Hank isn’t complaining. He is quiet. Still wondering what he’s gotten himself into when he again has to shut off that train of thought. Nope. Hand holding only in this head, now. And sharks, kind of. But mostly the warmth of Connor’s hand, the softness; the strangeness of feeling someone against Hank’s hand like this.
He thinks, too, about how Connor’s leaning on him now. And he tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything, again, but it feels... nice. Warm. Like something Hank has needed for years and years and yet hasn’t found again, after he lost Cole. Hasn’t let himself look for.
Comfort. From another person. It’s weird.
Hank turns ever so slightly toward Connor, lips brushing his hair before he turns back in a rush. He didn’t mean to do that — but what did he mean, then?
It’s Hank: the one making this excruciatingly weird. He sucks in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.]
no subject
[Why is Connor being so...! Cute! Affectionate!!
Hank isn’t complaining. He is quiet. Still wondering what he’s gotten himself into when he again has to shut off that train of thought. Nope. Hand holding only in this head, now. And sharks, kind of. But mostly the warmth of Connor’s hand, the softness; the strangeness of feeling someone against Hank’s hand like this.
He thinks, too, about how Connor’s leaning on him now. And he tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything, again, but it feels... nice. Warm. Like something Hank has needed for years and years and yet hasn’t found again, after he lost Cole. Hasn’t let himself look for.
Comfort. From another person. It’s weird.
Hank turns ever so slightly toward Connor, lips brushing his hair before he turns back in a rush. He didn’t mean to do that — but what did he mean, then?
It’s Hank: the one making this excruciatingly weird. He sucks in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.]