He peered at me and mumbled a 'Thanks' as I set the water on the floor to his side. I knelt behind him, silently getting him to obey my wishes to prop up and cradle his head on my knees, very carefully helping him to hydrate as well.

This was too reminiscent of our times together on this floor three years ago; typically the aftermath would be met with more curses and glares and reluctant cuddling with stiff arms and his morning wood that heaven forbid I pointed out for fear of being driven from his property at the end of a pitchfork!

He must have felt me chuckle to myself and with whatever energy he could muster from behind closed eyes, teasingly asked if I was laughing at him. "How dare you, Al."

"You really wanna know?" I ran my fingers through his hair and along his scalp and I could feel him relax under my touch. "Way back when I first started just bringing you inside and cleaning up and making sure you were okay and you'd always tell me to fuck off and even after we actually did start fucking during those weeks, you were still, I dunno, lost. But you never actually asked me to go. You know what I think?"

Grunt. "If you say what I think you're gonna say I'm gonna puke again. Just lemme lay here."

"Okay, Hank."

He was able to relax again from being sick and took down a couple more glasses of water over the following half-hour. I finally helped him back to the spot of wall where I had joined him just earlier this evening.

"Can I help you get to bed?"

Grunt.

"I'm taking that as a 'yes.' Come on. Up." I took his hand and tugged him from the floor where he wavered for a moment.

"Hank, you sure this is just food poisoning? Are you on any meds or - "

"Nah, just getting old, Al." He paused, making sure there was nothing left to throw up. "All right."

He allowed me to lead him by the hand to his bedroom where I reluctantly relinquished. He plopped himself down on the bed face-first, groaning into his duvet.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked.

"Ugh, yeah," he said, flipping himself to his back and repositioning to lean against the headboard to look at me properly. "I spent my entire damn birthday working and feeling like shit and this here's the best part."

My breath caught for a split-second considering the intention of those words. Was this snarky asshole Hank or new soft romantic Hank? His eyes and twitchy foot agreed with the latter. There was a pull in my lower gut that had to wait. Not now.

"Why do you say that?"

He replied with a gentle shrug but I knew. I strode over to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge near his shins.

"Ah fuck," he teased. "What're you smiling at?"

"I think you finally confessed that you like spending time with me. I also really want to kiss you but you should probably brush your teeth again."

He groaned and to my laughter, he rolled off and went to the bathroom to do so before returning to sit flush at my side. "Better," he sighed. "And by the way, that wasn't the first time I actually, ya know, said anything to you. You don't remember? Geez, I thought I was the one with the bad memory."

I sighed in embarrassment. Way to fuck that one up. "First time we fucked, you said you wanted me here."

"Yeah, and all the times you were a pain in my dick but I still held onto you. When you did that shit to yourself and I kept my mouth shut. Still wanted you here. Always did. Still do."

"Hank Anderson wants me. Huh. That has a nice ring to it. I want you, too." It was cruel of me to taunt him while he still suffered from a delicate constitution.

He sighed out his frustration and changed the topic by asking if I would stay the night. "Just to sleep, Al, making that clear, I'm about to pass the fuck out but uh..."

I acquiesced and gave up on the tease. "Okay. Do you want me here or out there?"

His raised eyebrows and contemplative slightly parted mouth invited salacious thoughts, but instead of invading his space, I pat his thigh and stood. "How about you just get to sleep and I'll surprise you."

I left to turn off all the lights in his house, made sure any trash from before was cleaned up, and padded back to his now-dark bedroom.

In the silence, I stripped from my pants, removed my bra, and stretched out next to him atop the bedding. He didn't stir. All his energy had been flushed in the toilet and he was already asleep. Carefully, I curled into him, and wIth another grunt, he loosened an arm and enveloped my back, both of us wondering how tomorrow would go and where we'd end up at the end of the evening.

That following night, the night of the gala, I was just about to finish my makeup when I got a text from Hank's phone that he was outside.

The previous night I had stayed only long enough to make sure he wouldn't get sick in his sleep and left a note on his fridge.

Do you still have those socks?

Unlocking the gate, I didn't recognize any of the cars against the curb and was confused for a split second when I didn't see Hank, either.

"Hey," he said. He was pushing off of the side of the building to my right and stomped out half a cigarette on the sidewalk. Fuck, was he handsome in uniform. Solid black, those belts and gear. Hair combed through and tied back neatly. I think he even trimmed his beard a smidge.

"Holy fuck," he said as he gave me a once-over. "Al... Oh, uh sorry about that-," (a slight nod at the squished butt on the concrete) "- I'm just a real fucking sweaty wreck right now."

Knowing what that mouth was capable of, I was a little jealous of the cig. Nostalgia tugged at my gut as well. I didn't mind the smoke.

"That's okay, I have the A/C on. Will you just come back up for a minute? I'm sorry, I'm almost done. Are you feeling better?"

He followed a few paces back as we went up the stairwell. I was slow in this dress and tried my best not to let the hem touch the grimy floors. I could feel his eyes on my ass and glanced back once to see him snap his gaze away.

"Yeah, just had to give my stomach a rest and try not to scream at anyone in the station today. Think I sweat through a few shirts though, it's been damn hot."

I opened the door to my unit and led him inside. "Here, sit wherever, I'm sorry, it's a really small place."

I locked the door behind him and paused for a moment to give him a brief tour. Tiny kitchen, tv set with a loveseat sofa, twin bed against the wall overlooking the alleyway. "Pretty sure that's where you guys chased those androids, isn't it?"

I returned to the bathroom and my struggle with eyeliner and shaky hands.

"Hey uh, you know I never saw your previous place, you know back when we were uh -"

"Yeah, wasn't much more impressive than this, believe me. Didn't think you cared anyway."

Hank must have heard me curse under my breath because he came to lean just inside the doorway with crossed arms.

"You okay in here?"

I paused to hold the sink and laugh. "No, God, Hank, I am so fucking nervous about this. I've never been to anything like this and you're going to have all your colleagues and your superiors and all their wives and girlfriends and you're Captain and then Connor and his fuckin' rich accomplished girlfriend and I - I'm not - I don't even - "

I don't know what I was trying to say. I suddenly felt inferior.

Hank called me out on this. "Hey, the fuck are you blabbering about? If you don't wanna go, you can stay home. Fuck everyone else, you think you're not accomplished? I want you with me, Al, wanna show you off to these fuckers. You put your life on the line for two years, you probably even lost count how many lives you saved, and don't forget about your own. And ya know, you're one of the main reasons I kept waking up in the mornings. Mighta drowned in my own puke if you weren't there busting my nuts."

I laughed a little at his last sentence, but my eyes burned and I had to stifle the desire to cry at his words. "Hank...I - you're right... thank you. I think I'm worried about just...I don't know, talking to all of them, introducing myself. 'Oh hello, how do you know Captain Anderson?' 'Oh yes, I was his bartender when he was trying to kill himself and we fucked in the PD parking lot a few times, and by the way, I was in an institution - "

"Alex."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. Hank had just confessed something without even realizing it, without meaning to, and I had to go and make a mockery of his encouragement. 'I want you with me.' How could I deny that?

"Have you done that again recently?" he asked, eyes flicking to legs.

"No. No. I wanted to. When I was getting dressed, I... I had to take a few minutes and refocus, you know? But no, I promise."

"Okay. Hey, look when we get there if you need some time alone, it's all right."

I reached out to give his forearm a light squeeze in thanks. I resumed, finally finishing up with the eyeliner and mascara, readjusted any loose strands of hair, smoothed down my dress, and asked Hank if he approved.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry I was distracted."

"Yeah? Good. Glad I went with this one then. I need to find my shoes and we'll get out of here."

As he drove, my thoughts went in every direction. How much of a chore it was going to be to free him from that equipment, how long this event was going to be, and if I remembered to bring pain killers for my feet.

We didn't speak much in the car and I tried my best to quell my nervousness. I took a deep breath to calm myself -

"Hank, are you wearing cologne?"

Grunt. "Maybe. Why? Is it too strong? I fuckin' told Connor I didn't wanna -"

"No no no," I laughed, "I like it. It's subtle, but it's nice."

He flashed his eyes over with a small upturn of his lips. "Thanks."

The gala took place at The Westin Book Cadillac which was thankfully only a short drive from either of our homes. Originally opening in the 1920s, it was the tallest hotel of its time, absolutely gorgeous having undergone several renovations, but untouched since the android revolution.

Hank reluctantly gave his car over to the valet and shoved the slip in his pocket. Only a small crowd of other officers had arrived already; I had to presume they were all going to be speakers, including Hank. He excused himself upon entry to go mingle with his superiors. I beelined for the refreshments and grabbed a light beer and bottle of water. I saw Connor enter and watched him find Hank in the growing crowd with Lana trailing.

I took a deep breath and figured it was time to be the dutiful plus one this evening. When I approached, Hank pulled me in with a hand around my shoulder and introduced me by just my first name to this group of other officers and their wives.

"You wanna know what she was up to last year? Android border crossings. Entire damn southern coast of Lake Erie."

"Which, at the time, was all very illegal so I'm not sure I should be getting into that, Captain," I said.

I realized I was still double-fisting my drinks and awkwardly set both down behind me on a table so I could shake hands, resuming with the beer and then the water as they asked further questions about my experiences.

"Oh, it was certainly scary at the time. And I fully admit, it was - it was strange to me, the deviancy. They scared me. But the more time I spent with them, hearing their stories, helping them, the more I learned. I'm glad they have their freedoms now. I know that has come with an entirely new array of problems, certainly homelessness and employment are still huge problems here and from what I've experienced recently, I think they've gotten even worse."

I regaled them with a quick summary of the full story I had told Hank at Riverside upon our reunion, my confidence quickly returning at the sight of their awe-struck mouths.

We were called to find our assigned seating where I was also introduced to Hank's old boss, Jeffrey Fowler, a name which I had heard Hank curse innumerable times before. The men were amicable now and it seemed that this was the first time Fowler had seen Hank since taking over the position.

The evening was pleasant enough, filled to the brim with statistical presentations and speeches and applause and all the ranks congratulating each other on the past two-plus years. Well deserved, surely, as this city saw the first android revolution and came to work very closely with Markus in the aftermath. Hank and Connor's vital contributions to the current state of this city were not lost on the crowd and both received ovations towards the end of the session. Hank even stole the mic back at one point to personally thank Connor in front of the entire Detroit police force for opening his eyes to android deviancy, for saving his life on more than one occasion ('Twelve, to be exact.' 'Okay, don't have to rub it in, Connor,') and for just being a fucking good friend. ('Whoops, okay, sorry, forgot this was being recorded .') Connor beamed with such pride across from me, it was impossible to believe those weren't real tears welling in his eyes.

Between speeches and presentations came dinner and dessert, followed by a migration to the ballroom.

Hank gave me his arm for accompaniment and we fell in with the others. As tired as I was, my mood had picked up immensely over the course of the night. I was so proud of this man.

He offered me another drink on the way out. I had to refuse.

"One more and I'll be pulling you into the bathroom over there," I whispered up into his ear.

He tried to hide his smile and rising blush by running a hand down his face. "Yeah, that uh - that should probably wait 'til we get home."

We reunited with Connor and Lana in the other room but Hank pulled away momentarily to chat with others. I took the opportunity to excuse myself and use the ladies'.

I needed the quiet and I desperately needed a breather. I wasn't used to these kinds of social engagements; this was a whole different level of excitement and interaction than what I had to deal with when running up and down I-90 from '38 to '39. I was so uncomfortable and growing increasingly tired and was at the point I would have loved to be able to teleport home.

'Wait 'til we get home,' Hank had just said. If he's insinuating what I think he was finally insinuating, then thank. Fucking. God.

I don't know if it was the kiss from the amphitheater or the parking lot that did it, or perhaps some secret conversations he was having with the other two, but Hank had been unraveling around me in some final and assured admittance that it was time.

Drunken, exhausted, and sometimes slightly high sex had been fantastic, but even these occasions recently where we snuck kisses out of sight of the others…it was different. He was welcoming this again, slowly and steadily, but it was good, unabashed, laced with desire to consume each other again but not be consumed, not to only go to each other as an escape. I was confident we wouldn't fall back into those habits. We didn't need to.

I couldn't find him at first when I reentered the large, very dark, and very loud ballroom. But then I heard him, just in time.

"Oh fuck. Oh, fuck no," I clamped my hands over my mouth when I saw Hank up on a small stage at the front of the room. He did not have the voice for this kind of song and he knew it.

"You are my fire

The one desire

Believe when I say

I want it that way "

I wound my way to the front of the room, trying to catch Hank's eye as I moved up but between butchering the majority of the song lyrics, downing another beer while screaming -

"Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a heartache

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a mistake"

- and the majority of the officers in his age range singing along at full volume, he was thoroughly distracted, completely amused with himself, and was soaking up the laughter and applause.

He finally noticed I was right in front of him and reached out a hand to indicate I needed to scramble onto the stage. I was assisted by two younger men and swiveled myself around and up without tearing my dress.

Hank held the mic out to the audience for the last screaming lyric, took my face in his empty hand, and pushed the wind out of me with a heavy smiling kiss.

He released, blue eyes flaring, and still holding me by the waist, we both quickly bowed before he helped me off the side stairs.

The next performer was already taking the stage to loud cheering. I cast back a quick glance to see who it was. Gavin? And Connor? Someone that looked like Connor. Our Connor had a blue shirt, not white...

"What the hell was that?" I laughed to Hank's back as I trailed him to the doors. We stepped out into the hall for Hank to find water, eventually finding a patch of wall with a high table to rest against for a few.

"Did I embarrass you?"

"Oh fuck no, that was great. 55-year-old man singing the Backstreet Boys, never thought I'd see it. They told me your voice wasn't horrible. But I don't remember ever hearing you sing, Hank. It was more like strangled grunting from what I remember."

"Hey, they were big when I was young, all right. That song's a classic."

"Oh trust me, I'm not complaining. Woulda fucked you right there on stage if I could've."

He sputtered up his water, granting me a coy flustered smile after he dried off his beard.

"Can't be talking like that here, Al."

"No? Why? Are your pants too tight? You got me all hot and bothered, Captain." Making sure no one else was within earshot, I added on a softer note, "You know, I didn't get with anyone else after you, I didn't want to. Not that there was time anyway but... I don't know. If it wasn't you telling me to fuck off every five minutes, it wouldn't have felt right," I said. A tease again, but it wasn't without truth.

He downed the rest of his water and chewed on a thought before he spoke. "Was that your turn-on?"

"One of many. Come on," I said with a hand to his forearm. "We should go back to the others before I list the rest."

I stayed at Hank's side for most of the remaining night. Connor and Lana came and went and we must have misplaced our drinks at least twice as we went from cocktail table to cocktail table so Hank could reunite with, and introduce me to, more officers he had worked with over the years.

I did have a brief and very telling conversation with Connor's girl in the middle of it all. The guys had disappeared into the crowd on the other side of the room which gave us a moment to exchange thoughts.

"Oh for the love of Christ please tell me you're gonna do it after this," Lana begged. She wasn't entirely sober. "Sorry, sorry, but you, God, you give him the same look I give Connor and it's so frustrating."

"What is?"

"Al, I really wanna be friends, so can I tell you something?" Without giving me a chance to reply, she continued, "I love Connor. And we'll probably go bang it out in the hotel here soon, but I can't get myself to say it."

"Are you afraid he still judges you?" I asked this without hesitation. It may have come across as more biting than intended because she reeled back an inch from the table.

"What do you - did Hank tell you everything about me? I...maybe that's it. Maybe. That was such a nightmare for a while, but maybe you're right."

I shrugged. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. He seems like a really good guy and the few times I've hung around you two now...he definitely feels the same. Lana, I was around a lot of androids in pain for two years, I saw them go through every emotion known to man, so believe me, Connor is an android in love."

After about ten karaoke songs, the DJ took over; this exchange between stage and floor would book the remaining three hours.

With a squeeze to Hank's forearm, I nodded that I was going to get some air in the hallway, praying he'd take the hint. The ballroom was getting a bit rancid and most of the officers had already discarded their things at a secure coat-check just down the hall. About 20 seconds later, Hank wordlessly followed me out and down the long conference room hallway and around a corner to a much quieter - and empty - area.

As he turned the corner, I snatched his wrist and tugged. He immediately complied, grabbed my arms, pinned me to the wall, and mashed his open mouth to mine. Even with heels, this didn't give me much advantage and he had to strain down slightly. We tried to be quiet but I really didn't give a shit at the moment. I was desperate now. Our little session in the parking lot held me over, but it was time. I held to his belt and dared to run a few fingers over his groin, spreading to a full palm and squeezed. There you are. He grunted my name in a forced exhale, mouth traveling down my neck, hands on the wall to either side of me.

"Fuck you trying to do to me."

"Hoping I can convince you to leave early."

"I'll see what I can do." He kissed me again, nearly taking me with him as he tried to free himself in a step back.

He readjusted his shirt, allowing me to help smooth it back down, fixed his hair tie, and started off back down the hall. "Come on, I'll give you the valet slip. Get the car and I'll be out in a few."

We were silent in the car and I kept my hands to myself but the tension was so palpable now I hadn't even realized we were bumping up his driveway all of ten minutes later. I still didn't say anything as I followed him into the house where we discarded our shoes at the doorway and he dropped his gear on the sofa.

"Wait here," he said. He rounded the corner to his room and I took position leaning back against the room-divider.

Okay, so maybe I was trying to sneak a peek down the hallway.

He emerged a couple minutes later sans uniform jacket, wearing one of his old t-shirts I recognized that clashed with his slacks.

I laughed internally at this persistent 'Couldn't give a fuck' ideology. Although frankly, it was always a turn-on: the old shirts from college, worn-out stained hoodies, socks with holes in the toe, loud button-downs. Articles I wanted to strip off after that first night we ever spent quality time together. The same night Sumo gave me his approval. The night I kissed an incredibly reluctant - and then aroused - Hank for the first time.

He immediately got himself a drink, shot back half, placed it on the kitchen table, and met me with hungry eyes and a fierce kiss, punctuated by hitched breaths and slow gentle returns. Light fingertips graced my cheek and I paused for a moment.

"Don't do this unless you're ready. You know how I get," I whispered.

"A royal pain in my ass?" he asked, trailing his lips down my neck.

I giggled and tucked a couple fingers of each hand under his waistband. "Yes."

Would this be like times before, ending in a mess of sheets, cigarette smoke, and Hank's sweaty ass under my armpit on the floor? I wasn't opposed to romantic vanilla intimacy but after these past weeks of sideways glances and chaste lips, I was ready and more than curious to know Hank's intentions, in the biblical sense of the word. This hesitancy born of our reunion was one out of cautious optimism, hope, and nostalgia and I whispered his name in a plea.

I tugged at his belt, an indicator to return that mouth to mine. I wanted this divider to rattle. I inhaled the woody cologne he must have borrowed from his roommate, tasting whiskey and the smoke he had snuck when I wasn't looking and a faint lingering touch of butter on his lips from all those damn dinner rolls he had inhaled. His hands trailed to my waist, one curling around my lower back to pull me away from my support, fingers flexing with each breath.

He pulled back just enough to observe, eyes flitting over each possibility of where to kiss next.

"Come on," I said, making the decision for him with a push to his chest. I grabbed his wrist and spun him around to follow me down the hall. I had to lift the hem of this damn dress all night so I wouldn't trip and it was even harder now without the heels on.

I dropped his hand and paused just inside his bedroom. I pulled my hair to one side. "Help me," I said.

"Fuck ."

He obeyed, fumbling at first to find the tiny-ass zipper.

"Why the fuck are women's dresses always so damn HARD. Got it! Nasty fucker."

Even with his success, he took his time and muttered another fuck when he realized I hadn't worn a bra all night, emphasized by a flat palm and fingertips running down my spine, triggering a wave of goosebumps over my exposed skin. My breath hitched with the motion, my arousal more annoying by the second as he slipped down the rest of the dress for me. With a tap against my calves, he bade me step out so he could hang it up on a closet doorknob.

"Hey, don't want it getting wrinkled, that shit's impossible -"

I shut him off by turning around and reached out with one hand to trail my fingers down his chest.

"Look at you," he whispered. He was focused on my thighs first.

"Yeah, look at me. Nothing to be angry about now, I'm all healed up, I promise."

"Hey," he shot his gaze back up to mine. "Wasn't ever angry, Al. Just wished you hadn't felt like you needed to."

"We both had our ways of coping, Hank."

"What is this? You didn't tell me about this," he said, turning grave. He held my hip and flitted a thumb over a scar just a couple inches above my panty-line.

I held my hand over his as he continued to rub the skin.

I hadn't really planned on conveying this story tonight but after seeing the bullet graze wound, of course he would ask.

"It was early last year. We were supposed to pick up two androids from a house in Bradford, PA. It was quite a detour from my usual route. The human family had gone away for the weekend, took two androids with them, left the other two. So we get there, but it turns out that that morning, the eldest son decided to stay back since he was sick with the flu. Last minute change to plans. And the guy I was traveling with, he wanted to turn back but I figured, you know, come on, we can hear this guy puking from the downstairs hallway, let's just grab them and go. The one android knew who we were and why we were there, but the child, you know I don't know much about the child models, I thought they were supposed to be fairly complacent, but this kid was a pain in the ass. She insisted on saying goodbye to her big brother. And it turned into a mess from that moment. I went up after her, and he musta heard us cause he comes out with a .45, hits my partner in the shoulder, hits me, and then kills the girl anyway. I stopped giving a shit at that point and tackled him right into the wall and then we just bolted out of there.

"Oh, don't give me that look. I thought of you that night, I thought of calling up the station and bragging about this. I was so brash by that point. Took another one to my shoulder."

I turned around to indicate another graze along my upper right shoulder blade. Hank had only a second to touch that one before I turned around again.

"They were worth it, though. I'm sure you understand."

"Why didn't you tell me this in the park?"

"Hm. Cause I knew we'd get to talking about it like this. Now do you mind if we get back to it?" Ignoring his concerned demeanor, I urged him back to resume our kiss from the living room. After a moment, his fingers finally curled against my skin, lingering at my waist despite all the territory before him.

I held to his sides lightly at first, inching up his shirt with each steady and exploratory kiss until he took the hint and detached momentarily to throw it aside.

I paused to splay my hands on that tattoo and graying chest fuzz, and then over that old scar and bullet wound, up his sides, over his pecs, just in awe that I had this man in front of me again, that I could admire him again. I broke my gaze back up, indicative he should resume the kiss.

Those damn pants.

Trying our best not to break contact while picking up intensity, we fumbled with his damn belt, whipping it off to the floor before I took the honors of the button and fly. Pants were off in another moment - those Christmas socks included which had me giggling at the sight - and I finally treated myself to a very full squeeze and a couple strokes through his underwear.

Hank groaned into the kiss and I cut off any more curses with a tug on his lower lip, pulling him back to collapse on this bed. He crawled over me as I pushed back towards the wall, never breaking eye contact.

Hands and lips ran gently up and down my sides and stomach, marking every inch of my skin as if this was the first time. He went as far down as my belly, taunting me by kissing my hip bones, before beginning his final ascent to my breasts. His mouth clamped on to one, tongue tracing circles, sucking, nibbling before alternating to the other and massaging the one he just abused with firm squeezes.

I cautiously pulled out that hairtie and tossed it to the floor so I could thread my fingers through his hair, gently pressing the back of his head as permission to bite.

My breasts were thoroughly marked and reddened when he lifted up to capture my mouth and I was finally able to adjust my legs and pin him between my thighs. We picked up a rhythm so I could start that upward grind.

"Hank," I groaned into his mouth. "Fuck me. Please ." I released an arm from his back, reached down under that elastic, and squeezed. He nearly gagged on my tongue at the pull, grumbling my name as he drew a harsh breath, but still allowed me to continue. He was already dripping, his cock thick and so fucking warm in my palm. His own hand traveled down my front, my stomach, delving under the last article of clothing to finger me with two very talented digits. I struggled to release the kiss and clamped down to bite his shoulder. His breath was heavy in my ear until he released his hand, pushed mine aside as well, and inched back to slip down my underwear, studiously observing what he was revealing. He tossed those to the floor and I bent my knees back up in dire hope to feel that tongue. He gently pushed them down and aside with flat palms, his lips traced where his fingers had trailed from hip to inner thigh, then the scars... what a tease ... he detached completely to stand and tug off his briefs and I weakly smiled at the sight of his erection spring free. Fuck I missed that sight.

"Come here," I sighed. Kneeling, he settled between my legs and with a pleading nod from me as permission (Of course you have permission, you fucking fart ) nestled his dick exactly where it should be and pressed. I groaned at the initial push and I reached out for him, begging him to fall back into full-bodied contact. He captured my mouth once more as he pressed deeper, slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, running a full palm up my side to cup my face and brush a thumb over my lower lip. Nearly three years since we had this. We needed it. Now. He picked up pace as it was too painful to wait any longer and I tossed a hand back against the headboard to brace myself as he thrust, finally finding that brutal rhythm we had established the first time around. He held my gaze but we each couldn't maintain a tilted smile for more than a half-second as the air was laid thick with guttural outbursts and breathy moans and we pushed back at each other, picking up with each press.

"Hank. Please," I begged again. I was aching. "Hank," I whimpered. He perched on his forearms on either side of my head, squeezing his eyes shut, slack-jawed and panting. I reached down to grab his ass, digging my fingers in with each thrust.

"Alex," he sputtered, "I gotta - "

I nodded fervently and he hastened again, gasping into my ear, fingers curled painfully into my breast as he came. "Fuck. Geezus," he exhaled. I squeezed my legs tight but they had turned to jelly. He took my mouth in a mismatched kiss, managed one more lazy thrust before he slowly pulled out, eliciting another "Fuck " from us both.

He was gonna need a new bedspread.

He sloppily kissed my cheek between slowly lingering breaths and rolled to his side of the bed. I couldn't move. My legs were numb and I already knew I'd be feeling that for the next day. Thank God it was the weekend.

Hank covered his eyes with his right forearm. I managed to fumble for his other hand to hold between us. He squeezed once and I looked over to watch him uncover his closed eyes, sniff, and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Hank…" I rolled over and pushed up just enough so I could reach out and run my fingers down his jaw. "Hey…" He was holding back. I repeated myself.

"Fucking embarrassing," he grunted through another sniff.

"No, no. Hey." I pulled his hand from his nose and held it to his chest, shifting over to be able to look at him properly.

He feigned a smile and craned up for a kiss before collapsing back into the pillow. "How about a shower, huh. My ass is gonna be stuck to the sheets in a minute."

I laughed and pushed away, nearly buckling as I tried to stand.

"Jesus Christ," I laughed. He came around the bed and grabbed my hand to help me to the bathroom. I started the shower and used the toilet as he pissed into the streaming water. We got in together, the hot water and steam already lulling us into a deeper state of exhaustion. We took turns with the wash until Hank leaned against the tile and stood, allowing me to hold him from behind until he was ready to speak.

(A/N: Chapter title credit: Barry, Jeff, and Greenwich, Ellis. "Hanky Panky." 1963.
Hank's karaoke song: The Backstreet Boys. "I Want It That Way." Millennium. 1999.)