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There was already a certain level of intimacy between Hank and Connor before they started dating, Connor had been living with him for months. They talked all the time, Connor borrowed his clothes, they cooked meals together even though Connor didn't eat. He even shared a few personal details at the expense of Hank, who choked on his coffee. It’s never been hard for Hank to read Connor, and as an android Connor never seems to fear speaking his mind, blunt and clinical about what he wants.
But sometimes when they're in bed together Connor will go quiet, cheeks turning blue before he tucks his face into Hank’s neck. Just like now, they're wrapped around each other, Connor’s fingers gently toying with the hem of Hank’s shirt, head resting on his shoulder. Connor slips his hand underneath the shirt, tapping his fingers on Hank's stomach. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves Hank kisses the top of Connor's head, he can't help the insecurity that rushes through his body.
Connor’s face gets that gorgeous blue tint, hiding it away against Hank's skin. Hank hums, stroking his thumb over the back of Connor’s neck, “What is it, baby?”
“You're so handsome,” Connor mumbles, nuzzling Hank's neck, “so strong, so big .” The movement of Connor’s lips on his skin makes him shiver.
“You're too nice to me, honey,” Hank drags his fingers through Connor’s hair, making him sigh softly, “I’m nothing special.”
Connor pouts, sliding his hand up to play with Hank’s chest hair. “You're so perfect though,” his fingers scrape over Hank's chest slowly, his other hand starting to lift to his shirt, “let me show you?” Their eyes meet and Hank can't say no, his boyfriend likes to use those sweet puppy dog eyes against him. He doesn't take his shirt off often, and he knows if he says the word Connor will drop it. But he nods, letting Connor move so he can take it off, tossing it to the side. He straddles Hank's thighs, admiring the view for just a moment.
He places his hand on Hank’s chest again, sliding it down over the curve of his stomach. His hand slows, tracing patterns in his skin with delicate fingers. Hank’s skin flushes when he realizes Connor's tracing his stretch marks and the few scars he has from years of police work. There's an overwhelming need to cover himself, one of his hands settling on his stomach above Connor's hand, he feels exposed. “Baby you don't,” he sighs, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to look at Connor’s sweet face, “I know they're ugly, you don't gotta touch them.”
He can feel the confused look on Connor's face, he takes Hank's hand and squeezes it, “If you want me to stop I will, but they're far from ugly to me.” He almost wishes Connor would just hate them, be fine with leaving Hank's shirt on like his partners in the past, but Connor's so much more than anyone he's been with before.
Connor cups Hank's cheek, stroking the scratchy hair of his beard with his thumb, “Do you want me to stop?” Hank shakes his head, pulling Connor down for a gentle kiss.
Connor covers his face in kisses, kissing along Hank’s jawline, enjoying the scratch of Hank’s beard against his lips. He kisses down his neck, leaving marks that will stick out on his skin tomorrow. One of Connor's hands slides up his body to grope his chest, gently playing with his nipple, making Hank groan. He can feel Connor smile against his chest, kissing and biting his skin as he works his way down to Hank’s other nipple. He wraps his mouth around the sensitive flesh, flicking his tongue against it.
Hank moans softly, grabbing Connor’s hair, “Didn't realize you liked my tits.” He's a little embarrassed, people don't usually do this to him.
Connor blushes, pulling away, “You never let me touch them.” His mouth reattaches to Hank’s nipple, other hand still teasing him. Connor sucks a little harder, rutting against Hank’s leg with the angle he's laying at. It makes Hank twitch in his pants, a wet spot forming in his boxers, he hadn't realized how turned on he is. By the time Connor’s done his entire chest feels over sensitive, spit drips down the side Connor had his mouth on.
Connor kisses down Hank's stomach, pulling a broken sound from Hank when he presses his tongue against one of his scars. It's the one that just healed last month, he still has dreams about Connor taking care of him after he got stabbed, so loving, more than he deserved. He keeps moving, pressing his lips to every inch of Hank’s happy trail.
When he reaches the band of Hank’s sweatpants he looks up at him, “Can I eat you out?”
Hank nods, that's one of the only things he lets Connor do often, the feeling of it is too overwhelming for him to be insecure. Connor pulls his pants and boxers down together, pulling them off his legs and throwing them. Connor taps his thigh, “Scoot down so I can get on my knees.”
Hank nods again, moving down so his ass is near the foot of the bed. Connor drops to his knees, spreading his thighs gently. Hank’s pussy clenches, he's already soaked. Connor presses his mouth to it for just a moment, leaving a sloppy kiss on the lips as his nose bumps Hank’s dick. Hank sighs, laying his head back, just enjoying the sensations.
Connor’s fingers drag down his thigh, the tummy worship is new, but Connor's never been afraid to admire Hank’s thighs. He sucks a mark into the skin. He likes to grab Hank's thighs, sometimes slap them a little, Hank had complained about them being too bulky and ugly once, Connor hasn't stopped loving them since then. He gives the same treatment to Hank’s other thigh, leaving marks he’ll have for the rest of the week, he's grateful Detroit is too cold for shorts.
Finally giving his pussy some attention Connor hums, pressing two fingers in right away, “So beautiful.” Hank gasps, hips lifting to push against Connor's fingers.
Connor wraps his lips around Hank’s dick, swirling his tongue around it. Hank grabs Connor’s hair, tugging on it roughly, making his lover moan against his pussy. Connor fucks him hard and fast with his fingers, the wet noises filling the room are obscene. Connor curls his fingers inside him, repeatedly brushing his g-spot.
Hank is embarrassingly close, legs shaking so much he can barely keep them open. Connor knows him well enough by now, he doesn't need to read Hank’s vitals to know he's about to cum. He speeds up, using his free hand to encourage Hank to close his legs around his head. He does it, abusing the fact that Connor doesn't need to breathe. Connor’s fingers slide in and out twice more before he's cumming, clenching around Connor’s fingers rhythmically.
Connor helps him ride out his orgasm, pressing kisses to his thighs as he eases his fingers from Hank’s sensitive hole. He sucks his fingers clean, getting back on the bed to kiss his boyfriend, Hank loves tasting himself on Connor’s tongue.
Hank rearranges himself on the bed, getting comfortable and pulling Connor against him, “I love you.”
Connor kisses him again, “I love you too.”
“Do you want me to…” Hank trails off, seeing a wet patch on the front of Connor's sweats.
He raises an eyebrow and Connor turns blue, “I really enjoy giving you pleasure.”
Hank smiles, kissing Connor’s forehead, “You’re fucking perfect.”