handerscn.
Seeing Connor open up like this - exposing himself to Hank’s blue hues, allowing his synthetic skin to retract and show what lay beneath - it hit a spot deep inside the old cop’s chest, causing a sudden wave of warmth to spread through the whole of his chest, with his smile turning even more soft and gentle than before. He tilted his head, brows furrowing in deep affection as he allowed the whole of his palm to press against the smooth side of the younger’s face, thumb trailing along a carefully sculpted cheekbone to paint soothing circles into the plastic.
The lieutenant was well-aware of the fact that this gesture - the act of deactivating the skin, laying bare the truth lingering beneath - meant a lot, more than any other gesture could at this very moment. Connor was offering himself, the most vulnerable state of his own form, trusting Hank with every fiber of his existence.
The younger was still struggling with his own origin, yet decided to open up completely to the other - simple words wouldn’t be able to express the same amount of love as this single action did, making the lieutant’s heart become all warm, fuzzy and big, filled with so much raw fondness and emotion that the organ felt close to breaking free from behind his sternum.
“—No need to force yourself to do anythin’ you don’t want to - or can’t do - just yet, honey. You can always take your sweet time with me - I’ll still be there for you, day an’ night, for as long as you’ll want me to be by your side.”
Awfully sappy, but damn, it was the truth that spoke from a set of beard framed lips - and Hank even had to swallow hard to stop a tight lump from forming within his throat. … Wasn’t working too well, though.
“We are partners, remember? —In each an’ every single way.”
once hank doesn’t pull away, once he doesn’t ask connor what was wrong, if there was something happening to cause him to take off his skin -- connor looks back up at him, and the affection that he found in the mans gaze was enough to cause the rest of his defenses to fall. the hand that had been keeping hanks in place on the side of connors face softens its hold, slowly sliding down his arm.
it felt like those sort of things, communicating with hank about what he was thinking, what he was feeling -- it would become easier over time, as he figures out what it actually was that was going on within his mind. and, in a way, it was already becoming easier. connor wouldn’t have been able to show this to hank a few weeks ago, allow himself to be this vulnerable, show hank a side of himself that he always felt like he had to keep hidden.
❛ i know... ❜ head tilts so he can gently kiss hanks palm, eyes remaining on the others. ❛ thank you, hank. ❜ for the gift, for the security that he offered connor -- for everything, but he didn’t know how to put that in simple terms, so he just smiles, reaches out and mirrors the action of cupping the others face in his hand.
❛ i, um.. i got you something too, but it’s just --- it’s a book, unwrapped, i didn’t think you’d get me anything, so i hadn’t wanted to make it a big deal. ❜ that doesn’t make him want to leave this spot any less, though. he still gets up, tells hank to stay there -- and heads over to their bedroom, retrieving the gift before sitting back down in front of him. in his hands, he held an older copy of le comte de monte-cristo, something he did a quick read of himself and saw most reviews were rather positive, too. he knew hank liked books, wasn’t sure if he has read this yet but had stopped himself from asking in fear he’d ruin the surprise.
