Hanna had met Worth a a bad time. For him, this had been a regular occurrence since he was about 10. For Worth it had been the first honestly bad time of his life. And dragging back from the edge, leaving them both scared in their own ways they'd been changed. Something to connect them with secrets that ran deeper then their very lives.

Hanna had met Lamont at a better time. After he'd walked back from that edge dragging or being dragged by Worth. He'd wished he'd met him first. He probably would have avoided most of the mess if he'd had half the resources Lamont had been able to supply him with after, had been available before.

But it was another hook of gratitude to Worth.

Lamont always cut special deals for Hanna. At first it was because this small strange man with blue eyes so stunning they almost glowed with a feverish look had apparently, although vaguely, saved his childhood friend. Then it was because of the new connections and practically entirely new business he was able to start thanks to the now vibrant red head. Afterward it was because he genuinely liked the quirky detective. He'd trade markers for gratitude, new books for nothing more then an exuberant hug and possibly a simple rune for luck or protection, expensive spell materials for not even a fourth their price and the opportunity to take him out to dinner to "negotiate" that price.

It was a surprise when Hanna had invited him out for nothing more then the company. And surprisingly so very Hanna when he'd just come out bluntly and asked if Lamont had liked him.

Lamont wasn't sure how to answer that.

So he'd turned red and started to laugh.

Which was made worse when Hanna started to pout.

But made better when Lamont took his hand and gave it a kiss.

"You're my little sweetness, Hanna."

Which made it Hanna's turn to go redder then his hair.

Lamont worked hard to provide for himself a lifestyle he'd always craved. Good car, good apartment, a good life.

He worked hard to help Hanna when he could as well. But if there was ever a person who would not accept handouts, it was that red head, every drop of Irish in him stubborn to the bone.

For every $20 he'd slip into Hanna's pocket, he'd find it back in his own wallet. Openly taking him out made it worse as Hanna began to learn just how much the books he had been receiving from Lamont cost, and insisted on paying him back every penny. Books Hanna no longer needed were returned to him and re-sold (at more then what Lamont received them at. He was good at his job.) Materials were appraised and Hanna swore to repay every penny.

"Just keep being you Hanna, that's enough." He'd told him with a gentle kiss on the head.

Hanna would pout, pretend to step on his foot and promise a real compensation.

Lamont would just smile.

Lamont was not smiling when Hanna thought to repay using his own body.

Hanna spent a fair amount of time with Lamont. Not a lot. They were both busy with their own lives and their "thing" was just that. Comfort, soft, a sweetness for them both to make days less bitter.

It was oddly not sexual at all. Certainly there was kissing and touching. And once or twice Hanna had stayed the night at his apartment where Lamont had learned of the scars across his chest which made him all the more precious in Lamont's eyes. But in 3 years of this strange, aching friendship they'd not had sex.

Lamont had his own outlets for his needs and didn't want Hanna to fulfill them.

Hanna was special to him in that way.

Hanna had just never had sex. Certainly he knew it, understood it, occasionally craved it but there was something fragile about what he had with Lamont that made him never push that boundary. And when he'd convinced himself he needed to, as some sort of repayment of favours done in the past. It had cracked that balance.

Lamont was still, cold when Hanna's kisses turned from gentle to firmer demanding sort. And when he'd pressed their bodies together, neither of them was hard.

"Why are you doing this Hanna?"

His question hurt as much as the almost disappointed look in his face did.

"Don't you… You give me… I thought…" Hanna couldn't even finish his broken and incorrect thoughts.

But Lamont could hear them all and walked out of the bedroom. Hanna watched his back, strong and tense as he leaned against the kitchen counter, before he'd slipped quiet out the door.

Hanna left Lamont at a bad time. Falling apart to a nostalgic friendship connected by chance meetings and occasional calls that ended in hangups or purely business talk.

Connected with emotions that would always run a little bittersweet.