I didn't say anything to him and we stayed like this, one of his hands loosely thumbing my forearm. I knew why he wanted to cry. It had been two months now since Sumo's passing and then this whirlwind of my return disturbed his grief and upset his new routine and peaceful mind he had been developing over the past two years with the help of the others. And tonight… this was the total opposite of how we used to be. We'd drink, fuck, and sleep, and it was never anything more than fucking . Not really. Some latent cuddling perhaps that didn't entirely bewilder him, but always marked with those hesitancies. Back then it was a distraction, a release from the world.

But the pace he set tonight, that literal slow concentrated, focused, attentive, loving pace -

Is that what was on his mind now?

Hank had softened up and turned into a romantic, I could see that just from being told the stories about trying the painting and dancing classes (okay, he didn't do anything during the latter but at least he went) and the symphony with his friend (that was a date, let's not kid ourselves .) He had cleaned up and straightened his hair and had new clothes (I really did love that shirt on him from our game night and I wanted him to put it back on just so I could take it off. ) He fuckin' sang in front of a crowd of his peers and subordinates and higher-ranking officers tonight, finalized by a kiss on stage, without giving even half a flying fuck. To announce to every single officer in the city that we were together...

And though he had yet again been the one to call the shots on the pace of whatever this was between us, he had also broken that time table.

I kissed his back which stirred him from whatever thoughts were causing the storm in his brain.

"Tell me."

He reached down to shut off the water and turned to face me, pulling me in for a deep embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Nothing to be sorry for, but your mind's elsewhere. I don't - I don't want you regretting this."

His face turned stern, stoic, thoughtful. "Fuck no, I don't...that's not it at all."

He stepped out to gather towels for us both, tossing one at me from the shelf. I did my best to dry my hair before wrapping up.

"You miss Sumo." When he didn't reply, I knew that's what was weighing on him. And how could it not? Emotions and grief were funny things, especially after intimacy. An unexpected pounding of mental bullshit, no pun intended.

"I miss him, too. There were some nights he'd join us in bed, long after you passed out, he'd lay up against me like he was trying to push us together."

"Yeah. Told ya he knew something when I didn't... Just keep thinking how happy he woulda been having you back. He was fine with the other two but there was really some next level of approval when you were around. Woulda been nice." He squeezed between his eyes again and leaned back on the sink.

"He was a good boy, Hank. He was very good," I said.

"Think I fucking cried for four days straight that week. Connor had to pry me away from him for burial after the first day. Cried into the liquor cabinet for the remainder. Then I caught myself every time my mind started wandering, wondering if you knew somehow and then…" he trailed off. "I swear if this happens every time we're together now, I'm gonna throw myself off a bridge."

I smiled weakly. "As long as I can come with. Hank, even if it does, it's okay. It's going to hurt for a long time. He was family. It's okay."

His eyes welled but he still cracked a smile at me.

"Hey, did you, uh - you didn't -" He tossed a nod back towards the bedroom.

"No, not quite. Are you offering again?"

"Maybe."

"Come on. " I pushed him out of the bathroom, discarding my towel in the doorway, and then stepped around him to take position again on his bed.

"Woah," I heard him mutter. "You, uh... okay then."

Fingers of both hands spread me as he nestled that tongue - fuck that goddamn tongue I missed his tongue - deep in my folds flicking and swirling in patterns, cognizant of exactly where to focus based on my spinal undulations. He held my legs open tight as I shuttered and cursed; I groped for his arms and at least one hand to hold as he was unrelenting. Given my lingering arousal from just before, the man had me coming in less than 60 seconds and I was so fucking wet, my expulsions wound through his beard upon ascent. I tugged him towards me by the back of his neck, not giving him time to wipe off. I wanted to taste him, taste me on him.

"That good, huh," he said.

"You sure you haven't been practicing?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you about our weekly orgies?"

"Hank!"

He held to me tight, head in my chest, and arms wrapped under my back.

"Can I tell you a secret? You remember that day when I paid my brother's bail? I'll never forget that look you gave us. I also remember thinking how handsome you were."

He unwound to push up and stretch out next to me. "'Were'? Thirty pounds lighter and clean-shaven, that what you want?"

"Oh, fuck no, don't you dare ever shave that off."

"Yeah? Why not."

"Because it won't feel as good."

I didn't think Hank could have flushed a deeper shade of red than he already had from his exertions and yet I could have sworn another blush rose to his cheeks.

However, in the following second, he cursed and it took me a moment to realize it was due to his cell ringing from atop his dresser.

"Do you need to -"

"Yeah," he said, rolling off the bed. "If it's this late, it's probably Connor with an emergency."

I pushed up to hold onto my legs and watch.

After a quick exchange of "Connor, what the fuck...is everyone okay? Okay, kid, okay, I'll be right there," Hank scrambled to find clothing.

"Musta missed his first call. Stay here, Al."

"O-okay…"

I watched him dress haphazardly and resigned against asking what had occurred, instead getting up to help him dig fresh briefs from his dresser.

Could be anything these days but that call, no...this was going to be bad. I had never seen him this concerned in relation to his job. But that was before. Now he actually gave more than two damns.

I received a messy kiss to the forehead and a muttered 'Fuck ' as he rushed from the bedroom.

Shit.

"Do you remember what I told you about Connor's girl?" Hank had me on the phone early the next morning from the station.

"Vaguely."

I knew that her grandfather had died and left an inheritance. I knew that when she was younger she had to help her brother deal Red Ice for a time so she could watch out for him. I knew that the only guy they hadn't gotten their hands on during Hank's time with the Task Force was an ex-fling who showed up not too long ago looking for his money. A debt that Lana's brother had owed before he was killed.

"Fucker and one of his goons robbed her bars last night while we were all at the gala. Shithead was still at one of 'em when Connor and she stopped by on the way back to her place. She uh, he shot her. Twice."

"Jesus fuck, Hank. Is she okay? Are they all right?"

I could tell Hank was holding back a quell of anger. His voice was tight, restrained, he was probably furious. He hesitated with his next words.

"Yeah, but…"

"Hank."

"Well uh, Connor, he was pretty beat up after I got there. Tried to figure out how to replace some of the lost thirium. Fuckin' kind of captain I am, can't even give him a damn blue blood transfusion." He sighed and gave a very weak nervous laugh through the phone. He cleared his throat and continued. "Had to call up Cyberlife. Dunno if they're just gonna replace parts or the whole body. He shut down. We had some close calls over the past few years but he was always careful. Dunno how this fucker got over on him. Didn't have time to tell me."

"Shit," I sighed. "I'm sorry, Hank. You must be worried sick about him."

"Yeah, it was...I never saw him like that before. It was fucked up, Al. Really fucked up."

His concern and frustration were palpable through the silence, I could just barely hear him breathing.

"Hank? Hey, I'm still at your house. Can I drop by and bring you anything?"

If there was anything I could do while he waited... I was afraid he would revert into a state of destructive grief.

He didn't answer immediately. I heard indistinguishable muttering in the background before he returned to the phone.

"Sure. Gonna be here a while. Thanks."

We hung up and I stretched, running my hands down my legs a little too firmly.

Don't. Don't.

I couldn't deny that my legs were still a little tired from last night and I smiled like a total inconsiderate jackass at the memories as I walked up 3rd with a large coffee and stereotypical box of variable donuts that morning.

Sad face. Come on, you're really good at being sad and fucked up.

And I was. I hadn't known Connor and Lana for very long but my heart broke for them both and especially for Hank. He didn't need any more tragedy in his life. Connor was his best friend, pseudo-adopted son, roommate, partner. And by extension, Lana was family, too, however conflicted Hank may have felt over the months. Connor loved her and he loved Connor. He was broken up and my heart was with him.

But still.

Fuckin' Hank Anderson and that damn mouth.

The receptionist had me wait while she buzzed Hank who greeted me in the lobby just a few minutes after.

Had he run? He was a little out of breath and looked like hell. Eyes worn and bloodshot. He must not have slept. He ran his hands through his untied hair and managed a weak smile in greeting.

"Hey. You doing okay?" I asked.

"Had worse days."

He nodded at the women at the front desk and bade I follow him through the security door and through the bullpen up to his office. A few heads turned at my arrival but no one lingered.

Busy day.

After the door shut behind me and I set the drink and food on what little empty patch of desk I could find and shrugged off my bag, Hank flipped the lock on the door which frosted over the glass enclosure.

Before I could get a word out or comment on his office space, he pulled me in for a quick fierce kiss and a tight hug. If this was any other day and any other circumstance, I'd reel him back to fuck on the desk. This office could be new territory. And I assumed that frosted glass also meant better sound-proofing…

I held to his back and we stood in silence for a while before he released and collapsed in his chair.

"Can't take this shit, Al. Just one fuckin' thing after another, I swear. Why can't I catch a break and go on vacation. Fuckin' Christ."

I took a seat opposite and propped up a leg on which to rest my elbow. "Then take one, Hank. Didn't you tell me Lana had some house up on the lake? Take her key and head up."

"Nah, no fuckin' time. Anyway once Connor is released from Cyberlife, I'm gonna tell him to take a leave of absence so he can take her up there. Case is too personal for him, he doesn't need to get overloaded once he's fixed up. Pretty open and shut. Look, I'm uh, I'm sorry I didn't let you know sooner what happened. Been worried sick about the two of them. Didn't need you seeing me like that again, Al."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Hank. You know I would have been here in a heartbeat. That's such an excuse. Just tell me you wanted to be alone. It won't hurt my feelings."

I had seen, heard, felt, and unfortunately even tasted every disgusting aspect of Hank's alcoholism the first time around. There wasn't any need for censorship.

"All right. I got drunk after I got back here and I should have texted you instead. Shoulda just...shoulda just gone back home but I was too nervous. Wanted to write this bastard up and get him off to County. Now I'm waiting to hear from Connor. Fuck , Alex, why's it always gotta be such shit timing with you and me? Why's this shit keep happening to people I know?"

I unfolded myself from the chair and circled around to sit on the edge of his desk in front of him, precariously perching my feet up on his armrests and wheeled him in closer. I leaned forward to tuck some of that wild hair back.

"I don't know, Hank. The universe has a really fucked up sense of humor. You know if this was three years ago, we'd already be naked on the floor. And while I am slightly disappointed, I'm also very oddly proud of you."

He snickered at that statement and ran his hands along my calves, eyes not at all subtly focused on my open legs in front of him before he switched his gaze back up to my face when he spoke: "Yeah, you're right. Shit, last night, Alex, you looked...really damn beautiful. Never told you. And after... fuck , I missed that. Goddamn, I missed that with you. "

"You're going to get me all flustered again, Captain, and we can't have that going on here, can we?" I strained forward for a kiss and dared to run a few fingers along the denim between his legs.

I almost lost my balance and laughed when he pushed back his chair. I regained my footing and stood to lean against his desk with crossed arms, biting back my lip to stifle further laugher.

Once more, Hank was gracing me with that look of aroused revulsion that softened to stifled amusement and a shaking head.

"You should get going. Otherwise, I'll have to write myself up for inappropriate behavior and I already got the past set of records expunged."

"Well before that, here, I brought you a change of clothes."

I propped my bag up on the chair and pulled out a couple clean balled up shirts for him to layer and set them atop the donut box.

"You don't have a comb here, do you."

"Fuck no. Well, might be in my locker. Why, what're you doing?"

"Trying to help you look at least a little professional." I stepped around to the back of his chair. "I like this look for you."

I proceeded to run my fingers through the best I could to straighten and tidy up those strands. I had grabbed the discarded hair tie from last night before I left this morning and wound it through.

I bent down to wrap my arms around him and whispered, "Maybe next time I'm here we can check out Interrogation again."

I nipped his ear and stepped back around as he rubbed his fingers over his lips, biting back whatever salacious thoughts I just planted in his head.

"I've got work today. It's the weekend, but they always need help. Let me know how Connor is when you hear something."

Again composed, he said, "Should be later today. Hopefully. Dunno what all that takes. Hey, thanks for coming over."

As Hank had suggested, once Connor was back in perfect working condition, he and Lana spent the remainder of the season up at her house on the lake, finally leaving Hank and I alone to well… be alone.

It's been five years since I initially met Hank, when his smudged fingerprints left fresh traces of death and horror on those filled glass tumblers. How many refills he imbibed in that first night escaped me, for we lost track with each subsequent pour. Night after night I served with no question, slowly watching his eyes darken and shadows burrow fresh trails along his skin. He had been so maddening and so infuriatingly resistant to my touch until the night he finally snapped and each following night for the remainder of that year we weren't without some type of imbibing satisfaction.

There were still parts of his home - and car - we hadn't blessed. Each kiss and exhale formerly initiated from whiskey and smoke now graced my lips from a deeply-forgotten place of simple want. We fucked as roughly as before but now completely sober and completely grateful for each other, eyes locked with lingering smiles and softer whispers from under covers.

It must have been some point in November when I noticed another toothbrush on the bathroom sink.

"So you don't have to run out of here so fast."

An open empty dresser drawer greeted me on a following night.

"Dunno how much longer you wanna be doing that walk of shame outta here."

I might have accidentally smashed a couple picture frames while he was having his way with me against that bookcase.

He paused to sweep up the broken glass and push it aside for the time.

"Hank...I'm okay, I promise. I haven't done that all year."

"I know, just don't like thinking about it."

When he was off-shift, he'd pick me up from work without warning, take-out already prepared in the backseat, and drive me to a park bench along the river for dinner.

We only returned to Riverside once during this period to drink on the swing set which ended in awkwardly making out inside that damn plastic castle.

"Ah fuck, almost forgot."

I had to lift away from over him as he fumbled inside his jacket to reveal a thin metal rod.

I pushed off to one side and propped up, curious what this was as he ran his thumbs along the object.

"How the fuck do you... ah shit. Oh!"

It took me a second to realize what it was as Hank was initially holding it upside down.

The interior of the castle suddenly illuminated with a soft red glow and from the rod had spouted several holographic petals that formed a rose, green thorns ran along the 'stem', and after a few seconds, a small blue butterfly appeared and fluttered around the flower.

"Connor got one of these for his girl a while ago. I liked it, got one, too, thing's just been rattling around in the car all year. You know, figured if you ever... I dunno, here."

I took it from him and laid back down in the tight space with legs bent up, holding the object over my face with my head in the crux of his arm. He lazily swiped a few fingers along my skin as we watched the butterfly disappear and return from another angle.

"You like it?"

"Yeah...yeah, Hank, I love it. Thank you."

God damn this man better buckle his seatbelt because I was quickly finding myself biting back dangerous words.

I had to be sure.

We took a few days to clean out his garage so he could at least have enough room to squeeze the vehicle in to one side. The moment the door shut and the area plunged into darkness, we managed to find each other and I perched on the end of the hood, already fumbling with this belt.

"We're not gonna dent it, Hank, stop griping."

He told me after as we lay in the backseat that he was considering going to the animal shelter before the end of the year.

"D'you wanna come?"

"Don't you want to wait for Connor?"

"Mm? Nah. We talked the other day, forgot to tell you. Once he and Lana come back down he's gonna move in with her. Told me to just send pictures once I picked one."

"Yeah? Good for them."

"Yeah. Gonna be weird but I'm happy for him."

"Aww. Proud dad you are!"

He scoffed. "Whatever. But ya, if you wanna come with. And then uh, I dunno, you're already over so damn much and you don't own a lot…"

"You asking me to move in?"

Grunt. "I guess."

"You don't think it's a little soon?"

"Alex, I'm fuckin' 55 years old. I could have a goddamn heart attack at any second and I'll probably need Viagra within the next ten years if I'm not dead before then or throw out my back. So yeah, I'm fuckin' asking you to move in."

"I'll think about it."

We had a Thanksgiving dinner date back at the amphitheater, courtesy of the various food trucks, and then another at the Detroit Institute of Arts a few days before Christmas Eve. (The museum now featured an entire wing of recent android artists with a special traveling selection by Markus himself.)

Hank paused next to me at one corner of an exhibit. "I know Connor woulda liked this but I'm glad he's still away. Said he'll be back before New Year's. It's nice to uh...you know, just be with you. Out. Out in public. Like this." Hank was fumbling for words and gave up his stammering and walked off to another corner.

We paused after a half hour or so and I sat on a bench in the middle of an empty gallery. Exactly five years as of last month when I first met Hank. He'd been through so much, changed so much. He even stood a little straighter, eyes brighter. Give it some more time and his hair would be completely white. I hoped it would be a while. I liked this shade.

Hank caught me spacing out and staring at him.

"What're you lookin' at?"

"Just talking to myself."

"That's not a good sign, Al," he teased. "What're you saying?"

"I want to ask you something. But don't freak out, all right? Please."

He peered at me and crossed his arms. "I'll be sure to tighten my laces…"

"Hank, have you uh - have you ever thought of getting remarried? And I don't - hey, I don't mean to me, I just - in general, have you ever thought about it?"

"Why the hell are you asking me this, Al?"

"Nothing! Nevermind. Forget it."

"Lemme tell you something. My ex-wife and I, we were high-school sweethearts. Married the second I got out of the academy. Waited a long while until we decided to have Cole. And once...after the accident, fuck , she blamed me for everything. I know you picked up on that shit when I was at the bar. For life to just fuckin' deck you in the face like that, when that's the majority of your life and it just ends ...come on, you know I'm still not 100%. Never will be. Too old for it anyway. Where is this coming from?"

I pushed out a sigh and did my best to maintain eye contact, failing miserably with each hesitant sentence.

"After what happened with Connor and Lana and seeing them be so renewed together...I know she wanted to tell him she loved him that night of the gala. She pulled me aside. She was nervous. I would assume by now she has but I keep thinking if she hadn't, if something worse had happened to her or him, if Connor never heard that...that would have been pretty fucked up. And it reminds me of the night I found you again in the park and you said you thought I had died...and I…"

Tears were burning again and I was losing my voice. I hadn't realized I was scratching at a patch of skin on my legs through a rip in my jeans and immediately stopped when the smallest drop of blood welled up. I clasped my hands in my lap and rubbed my palms in circles. Hank hadn't moved but he was looking at me with a mix of confusion and concern while chewing the corner of his lip. Or was this paralyzing nervousness because he knew what was coming next.

"I should have told you... I should have told you I loved you that night before I left. I don't know, hindsight's 50/50, ya know. I came so close to being killed while helping those androids. Those bullet wounds were just the start. I can't tell you how many we dodged while running through the farms. How often I almost got a tire blown out. But I had to come back so I could tell you. It should have been a lot sooner. I was terrified that it would have made everything real and… I don't know. I don't know why I didn't. Maybe I didn't realize it until later."

Another couple had meandered into this section but swiftly moved on as they could tell this area was reserved.

I paused and wiped my hands down my face. Hank stepped forward, pulled out a crinkly tissue from his pocket - "It's clean, all right? Don't give me that look" - and pressed it to the blood on my leg.

I held his hand atop and muttered an apology.

"Don't gotta apologize, Al... Fuck... I shoulda told you, too. That night I did a little Russian Roulette in the kitchen, told you about that, right? Yea. After that... I was hoping you'd come back. Pain in my dick… But why the fuck are you asking me about marriage? Geez…"

I managed to chuckle through my nose without pushing out tears. My heart faltered at his words and the feel of his hand. I struggled to speak again. "I don't know. I know it's silly. I never thought about it as a kid. Never had the ideal dress or the cake or the venue. No perfect husband. Never once. Now I'm - I'm not entirely opposed. Could just be at the courthouse. No goddamn dress. No fucking heels. No tie. Maybe a couple flowers stolen from someone's yard. A Ring Pop. One witness."

"Hah. Connor would throw me off a fuckin' rooftop if I didn't pick him."

I looked to my side to see a smile fade away from Hank's lips, his eyes unfocused between our hands and tissue on my leg, the floor tiles, and the artwork before us.

"Is that your way of saying you love me, Hank?"

After a moment of silence, he lifted the tissue away and shoved it in a back pocket before leaning forward again to clasp his hands between his knees.

"Guess so," he said. We exchanged weak smiles before he let me lean down to steal a kiss.

"You fuckin' asking me to marry you?" he asked upon release.

I chuckled and shook my head, leaning back. "Not yet. I think I'd like to move in first. I can't take anyone else thinking I work at Eden."

"Shit. Does that happen a lot?"

"Enough."

"All right, but if you move in, you and I both know that Connor and his girl are gonna try to catch a peek. Kid won't even knock. Just gonna find him standing in the doorway one day."

"Didn't think you were so ashamed of your body, Hank. That might just be a risk we have to take."

"...ah, fuck. "

2042

"Hey, Hank."

Grunt.

"You on shift later?"

"Nah."

"Do you wanna go out?"

"I guess. What're you thinkin'?"

"Do you wanna get married?"

Grunt. "Sure."

"Good. We have an appointment at four."

(A/N: Title credit: Missio. "Do you still love me like you used to?" The Darker the Weather the Better the Man, 2019.
Thank you again to all who's followed this story.)