the twink in black tights - hank x connor

Lieutenant

SUMMARY: Connor learns that Hank is a police lieutenant, Hank learns that Connor teaches a yoga class. Connor wants Hank in the class, and Hank can't help but give in to his puppy eyes.

About another week of Hank unknowingly falling in love with Connor later, the topic of jobs came up.

"Oh, uh, it's nothing special but I'm a Lieutenant at the DPD." Hank had said to Connor, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to appear like some cocky asshole, although it definitely wasn't easy to earn his place at his job.

"Oh! Would you prefer me to call you by your rank, Lieutenant?" Connor had asked in return. Hank almost choked on his coffee once again. There was nothing suggestive about the question at all, but the way 'Lieutenant' rolled off of Connor's tongue sounded awfully sultry. Hank had to shove away quite a few dangerous thoughts before speaking.

"Wh- Absolutely not." Hank had stammered, his face burning. Connor had fucking giggled. A heavenly sound, really. Then he spoke.

"Well, apart from me working here, I'm also an instructor for a small yoga class." He had said, and then his features brightened. Oh, no. "You should join the class!" He chimed, a hopeful glint in his beautiful, chocolate-colored eyes. "I could even give you private lessons." He added as an afterthought, winking on the last couple of words in his sentence. Yeah, Hank was a fucking goner.

When Connor noticed Hank's obvious hesitance, he spoke again. "If I let you join and give you lessons for free, then will you join?" He pleaded, giving Hank the sweetest fucking puppy eyes he'd ever seen. Well, fuck , how was he supposed to say no to that?!

"Alright, fine. I'll probably be behind, I'm not uh, in the best shape." At this point, Hank was just desperate to change Connor's mind. Yoga was... not his thing.

"Private lessons," Connor reminded him, grinning. Hank rolled his eyes fondly. At this point, he was postponing what was inevitable. He knew he was sold as soon as Connor gave him those pleading eyes, not caring whether he received free lessons or not.

"Alright, alright. I just need to know where. And when." He gave in, taking another swig of his coffee and suppressing a smile. Connor opened his mouth to speak but was cut off from a voice from the kitchen.

"Connor!" Hank heard one of the Jerrys' call out from behind the two.

"Dang it!" Connor muttered. Hank watched as the mole-speckled male took out a notepad and a pen. He clicked the pen and quickly scrawled something on the paper. Hank watched his brow furrow as he wrote and he took the few seconds to admire Connor's features.

Connor had freckles dusting his face, from his forehead to his chin. Freckles also covered his nose, and Hank ignored the impulse to kiss the tip of his nose. Hank's gaze lowered and he watched as respectfully as he could manage when Connor took his lip between his teeth. Connor tore out the paper and gave it to Hank, who blinked a couple of times before remembering what was going on. Connor gave an apologetic smile and waved. Hank waved bye in return, watching Connor run to the kitchen, keeping his eyes from traveling south for the sake of any and everything, before looking at the paper.

'313-800-0051 ♡', it read. Holy shit, Hank just got Connor's number without even needing to ask. For how fast it was written, the hand-writing was surprisingly neat. He put the paper in his pocket and finished his coffee and walked out to his car with a smile on his face that he couldn't seem to resist.