the twink in black tights - hank x connor

Hey Hank, That's Really Vague

SUMMARY: Hank talks to Connor on Wednesday morning. He asks Connor how he feels about his job, and says something he begins to regret when Connor asks him the same.

Hank chatted with Connor on Wednesday morning as usual, although there was something heavy in the air when he walked into the cafe. He greeted Connor, the usual slow, soft music playing. Hank found that he really enjoyed the vibe of the place, not too loud and strangely comforting in comparison to his work.

"Good morning, Connor. The usual, of course." Hank said it almost jokingly, smiling at the way Connor immediately came over to him. Like a personal fucking waiter. It was cute.

"Alright, Hank." Connor smiled back as Hank passed the male a twenty. Connor's expression quickly changed. He looked very puzzled, looking from the twenty-dollar bill to Hank, one brow raised in question.

"Keep the change, dork," Hank assured as Connor looked at him with confusion. Connor blushed and nodded, going to the register and pocketing the change before going to the back to make Hank his coffee. Hank had a feeling of satisfaction. He felt like at least for a second he was helping Connor as much has Connor was helping him, unbeknownst to said brunette.

Hank had been drinking significantly less at home, often not really needing to. He had hidden away the pictures he had of Cole and his ex-wife while he was drunk and did not remember where he hid them. He never looked though, knowing it was for the better that he didn't find them again.

While he waited, Hank looked around the small coffee shop. A Jerry was conversing with a customer at the front who had dirty blond hair and a scarred face. A blond waiter, who Connor had introduced a week back or so as 'Simon', was speaking to another male at the table with tanned skin and seemingly heterochromia; his right eye was green, but his left was blue. The way Simon smiled at the other man reminded Hank of Connor's smile, in some way. Hank saw another Jerry giving coffees to a female with long, braided red hair who was sitting next to a paler female with seemingly silky blond hair in a ponytail. He turned when he heard footsteps and was greeted by the sight of Connor holding his coffee with a smile.

"Thanks, Con," Hank mumbled before picking up the coffee and taking a sip. Connor just put his head on his hand as he watched Hank with a small smile before speaking.

"Of course. And... thank you for the tip," Connor thanked him, looking away for a moment before looking back at Hank, right into his eyes. Hank's heart throbbed for a moment as he met Connor's gaze. There was something burning there, something so intense that just looking back into those brown eyes made his chest constrict with tightness he hadn't been prepared for. He looked away with a slight heat in his face, his fingers kneading into the ceramic mug's handle.

"You deserve it," He choked out, words suddenly becoming difficult. He slowed his breathing. What the fuck even was that? Did he almost hyperventilate just because they looked at each other in the eyes? If that was the case, Hank really was a goner.

Connor smiled wider at this and watched as Hank took another quick swig of his coffee and set the mug down. Hank then spoke, desperate to ignore what just happened.

"Why did you start working here?" He asked. He realized he kind of sounded like a dick, as though he didn't approve of Connor's job, so he added: "I mean, for money? Or do you just enjoy it?"

"Oh. I, uh, I actually really like it here. Just the aura of this place is really nice to me..." Connor trails off, looking around the small shop before looking at Hank again. "And I really like seeing you every morning." He added, a small blush dusting his cheeks. "So I would say I just enjoy it, although it's nice being able to pay for my apartment."

Hank nodded. "My job is alright. It's not nearly as bad as it used to be with you cheering me up every mornin'." He confessed. He figured it be safe enough to say; there probably wasn't too much Connor could do with the information that he cheered Hank up because Hank had a feeling that he knew that already.

"Why did it used to be bad?" Connor inquired, looking thoughtful. Hank hadn't expected that question and he panicked slightly. He didn't want to scare Connor off with all the shit he really deals with inside his head. He scrambled his mind for an answer, not being able to come up with a lie fast enough.

"Well, I've got, uh, baggage." He had sighed, looking down into his coffee. He knew it was vague, and not the answer Connor wanted; he could see a sliver of frustration in Connor's face when he dared to look up, but his expression softened as though the frustration was never there in the first place. He felt Connor's hand on his jaw and nearly fell back in his seat to the floor. Connor's hands were extremely soft, and Hank dared to lean into his touch ever-so-lightly, unsure if Connor would even notice. He lifted Hank's head up and looked him in the eyes, the same intensity. Hank recognized that look but didn't have a name, though he wished for the life of him that he could remember, because it made his brain go to mush and his breathing labor as though he'd just run a marathon.

"Like what?" Connor asked gently, eyes on Hank, gauging his expression for any sort of answer. He then caught himself and looked away, blushing out of what was probably embarrassment. "I mean, you don't have to-"

Hank shook his head, making Connor's hand fall to the table.

"Maybe one day I'll grow the balls to tell you." He uttered. He looked back at Connor, hating the look of disappointment and confusion on his face.

"Trust me, dork, it's not you. Don't let this ruin your morning." Hank reassured, messing up Connor's hair. He blushed a bit as he felt Connor lean into his touch. He removed his hand and took the last swig of his coffee before setting the mug down and getting ready to leave.

"Hank?" Connor asked just as Hank was about to say goodbye.

"Yeah?" He stopped in his tracks, looking at Connor. Connor's face was contorted with uncertainty, and he bit his lip. Hank's eyes were drawn to the movement, and he felt his breath hitch when Connor's tongue darted out to wet his lips. He prayed to every and any god that the sound he made in his throat wasn't audible.

"...Never mind. Goodbye, Hank, have a nice day and I'll see you later." Connor exhaled, seeming quite conflicted, but Hank didn't feel there was anything he could do about it. So he just waved goodbye to Connor with an apologetic smile and set out for his car, trying not to think too hard about what it could have been that Connor wanted to say to him.