And he loved the things he learned to do to Hanna as well.
Evenings alone with the redhead was more then he could ask for. He spent countless hours holding the punk close, placing the softest kisses against his skull, letting his fingers trace every area of his body he could find. And he couldn't get enough of the little noises Hanna made, willing against the cop's lap, his face shoved against his neck. If he wasn't careful he risked losing control when the punk nipped and licked at the sensative parts of his neck... not that losing control was a bad thing, but he wasn't the type to rush into things like Hanna. He made sure to lift the smaller man off the couch or chair they happened to be sitting in, letting him wrap his skinny legs around the detective's hips. They would spend a good few minutes simply kissing and touching, fingers gripping, mouth exploring areas of the neck and shoulders. Trying to earn noises and moans from the other.
Jayne loved to touch Hanna. He loved the feeling of the redhead's skin shift under his fingers, and the way it gave him goosebumps... and the cute little sounds he made when the cop's exploring hands found a ticklish spot. Yes, these things were worth loving, and Jayne knew this better then anyone. Having Hanna to call his own was something he coudn't put into words. The sounds and the feelings... those electric blue eyes lit up with affection and devlish ideas to try out once he got Jayne's pants off. It was his spunk, his eagerness that made the detective chuckle everytime, making sure to take things even slower, just to watch the younger man squrim and whimper under him once he got him down on the matress.
His whole body tingled with forbidden sensations at the way Hanna arched when he ran a cool hand down the punk's front, stopping just above the waist. His fingers once again finding its way around some hidden places he didn't remember being there before. But that was the fun in this... there was always something new to discover about the redhead he adored. He learned to play some painfully fun games with his fingers, afterall, the punk seemed to like being teased until he couldn't stand it anymore.
"Jayne, f-fuck... come ON... please..."
Jayne could almost feel bad at the way Hanna's pitch went even higher when the cop's hands slipped under his belt, but the expression on his face clearly said he was enjoying every second of the older man's teasing. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
It wouldn't take long for the heavy jeans the punk wore to be discarded to the floor. Exposing nothing but a long t-shirt and boxers with little sharks on them. But of course, this was what he always wore on weekends when he wasn't working. And Jayne found it adorable in all the wrong ways.
He didn't waste any time running a single finger up the leg of the boxers, tracing it down Hanna's hard member. This earned him a sharp gasp from the redhead, which was enough to make his body shiver once again, and Hanna saw, his face splitting in a grin. He would decide it his turn, brushing a finger of his own up Jayne's chest, removing his shirt in the blink of an eye.
They woud remove clothes, down to the very last sock... hands gripping, lips smashing together, breathy whispers of hot affection and bodies rubbing against each other softly. All the things you would expect to see between two lovers, and all the secret little things Hanna found out how to do, things he knew would make the detective above him arche and moan, low and hot. If he grabbed hold of his manhood, giving it a little tug before pulling away and letting his hand linger there until the cop begged and pleaded with his honey colored eyes and low whimpers for Hanna to just do it already. But now it was Hanna's turn, and he made sure to tease Jayne to the point where he was the one begging.
"Hanna, Hanna please... d-don't- Ahh!"
His hips bucking, his eyes closing. The redhead's eyes narrowed happily, his hand now a fist around Jayne's member, tugging and tracing and poking. His eyes drinking in the sight of the cop's teeth digging into his lips, and his throat moving as he swallowed hard from the moans he struggled to keep in.
Soon, it came to the point where Jayne couldn't stand another minute of not being as deep inside of the punk as he could get. Surprising even himself, he would lift Hanna by his legs, wrapping them around his shoulders and thrusting as far as he can go. He could hear Hanna's yelps of shock turning into sharp cries of pleasure, even through his own grunts and low moans. The pleasure, the feeling, the sensation of being inside the one he loved more then what was even safe... it was more then the detective could handle. But then he'd stop moving, he'd stop breathing, letting the world go to a sudden stop as he closed his eyes and let the feelings around him cover him like a blanket.
This was Hanna.
This was his Hanna.
Suddenly, Jayne bent low to place slow, soft kisses against the punk's face, which was on fire from panting and heat of the moment. He would grasp the younger man's face as gently as possible in his rough hands, running his tongue and lips along his jawline, making sure to nibble at the spots he knew he loved... savoring the way the redhead moaned and whimpered and cried out, his noises getting louder everytime Jayne's hips jerked and hit at just the right spot.
He lost himself in the moment of pleasure and noises, sweat, legs and arms tangled around each other... the sheets getting caught up in the mess of thrusting bodies and jerking hips.
Just the way Jayne loved it.
His lips bit down firmly, but not too hard. just the right amount to make Hanna moan and arche fully off the bed, his hips pressed forward, making the detective sink even deeper inside the too tight punk... and that was too much. With a series of loud grunts, he was coming, hard and sudden into the man under him. His world went white and then black, and then white again in a matter of seconds, which seemed to drag on forever. He faintly heard Hanna whimper his name in the mess his brain was, but it was enough to bring him down from his pleasure high, falling against the redhead, panting hard. His mind turned slightly, his body shuddering at the way Hanna stroked up and down his back, kneading and rubbing gently.
"Fuck... Hanna..."
The cop buried his face hard against Hanna's shoulder, pulling the cool sheets over their bodies, feeling the punk's mouth tease his ear.
"I love you, Jayne."
It was hardly a whisper, and Jayne had to strain himself to hear it... but it was there. Soft and true in the detective's ear. And he felt his heart bleed through his chest at the very words and the way they sounded coming straight from the one he loved.
Straight from Hanna.
This was indeed the way Jayne loved it. Every night, new whispers of affection, and new kisses to give to new areas of the body. But in the end, one things always remained the same... Jayne loved Hanna. He loved that little redheaded punk.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
But every night, both sweaty, tangled bodies were unaware of the broken heart that lingered outside their small window, her worn out deep blue eyes gazing through. Her black hair hanging in her face. Her own heart bleeding through. Hurt, anger, jealousy. Hopeless unreturned love driving her slowly and silently mad.
But the pair slept on, never knowing as she turned and cried softly, leaving behind her own broken heart each and every night.