the twink in black tights - hank x connor

Dogs Break Tension, Apparently

SUMMARY: Hank sits in bed with the dog at the foot of it, wishing Connor was in bed with him, and by some fucking crazy odds, his wish is granted.

Hank was used to not having anyone in his bed by this point, other than his dog. Sumo had seemed to notice his loneliness when Mary left and had slept with him since. But he could hardly sleep knowing Connor was that close, not even in his room but still in his fucking house. It made Hank, to say the very least, extremely nervous. He had to ignore several thoughts, all stemming from the knowledge that Connor was right there. Hank could just walk out of his room into the living room... He killed the impulse. He was constantly shuffling in his bedsheets, unable to sleep.

He was trying to move yet again to get comfortable (it'd probably been about a couple of hours since he said goodnight to Connor,) when he heard light footsteps in the hallway. He shifted more quietly before going completely still. He heard a light knock on the door, and his eyes were completely transfixed on it. He could hardly see, with all lights off in his room, but he still kept his eyes on the crack in the door. He never closed his door in case Sumo wanted to eat, or do some other dog thing. He saw that someone, most likely Connor, was at the door. He got up, removing the covers from himself and ignoring the small noise of complaint from the dog, who was perfectly comfortable despite Hank's almost constant shifting. Hank, being as exhausted as he was, leaned over to turn on his bedside lamp and hesitantly made his way around his bed to open his door. As he opened it for his friend, the door creaked and revealed an equally as sleepy, and disheveled brunette. It seemed that he had gotten the same amount of sleep Hank did: none. It was 4:36 in the morning, said Hank's clock, meaning it'd been a couple of hours since Connor hurtled himself through the window.

"Connor, wha...?" Hank trailed off, trying not to eye-fuck Connor.

"Sorry, Hank. I don't know what I'm doing. I just couldn't sleep, and-"

"It's fine, Connor, don't apologize," Hank said exasperatedly, rubbing the back of his neck like the awkward son of a bitch he was.

"Uh..." Connor mumbled, looking down at his black socks. Those socks were obviously not Connor's size. They were far too big, and they almost went up to his knees. It was... cute. Like the rest of Connor.

"And?" Hank asked, waiting for Connor to finish his sentence.

"Hm?" Connor had clearly zoned out, only just now looking back up at Hank.

"You just couldn't sleep, and...?" Hank pressed on.

"Oh." Connor squeaked. Hank could hardly notice the slight reddening of Connor's face in the dim room. "I... I've wanted to ask for the past hour- uh..." Connor was obviously blushing, his hands twitching. He probably had to avoid the instinct to cover his red face.

"Spit it out, Con." Hank insisted, getting exasperated at the fact that Connor was probably getting embarrassed over something stupid.

"Do you mind me coming in and... um... laying down with you?" Connor managed to get out. Hank just stared at him, lips parted slightly.

"Are you asking to sleep with me?" Hank asked, raising a brow. Connor made an actual fucking squeaking noise before covering his mouth. Why was this fucker the physical embodiment of the word 'cute'?! That just... cannot be legal.

"I- um, I just meant..." Connor, evidently, could barely get the words out.

"I'm joking, Connor,"  Hank rolled his eyes. Connor blinked a couple of times and resumed staring at the floor, rubbing his hands together with a need to fidget. He couldn't seem to meet Hank's eyes, and even in the dim lighting, Hank could still see the color in his face.

"I know what you mean, Con," Hank said, reassuringly. "And, yeah it's alright if you want to. Come on, I'm positive Sumo wouldn't mind." Connor's face lit up hearing the dog's name. Hank also heard shuffling from the bed, and he assumed that the dog heard his own name as well.

Hank awkwardly let Connor in, leaving the door open behind the brunette, just a crack so Sumo could leave, if he wanted to go do whatever the fuck dogs do in the middle of the night. Hank walked across the carpet, trying not to look at Connor's legs. The carpet was much, much more interesting than Connor's beautifully sculpted legs, occasional freckles leading up to his pale thighs... Fuck, he was looking. He looked back at the carpet and walked around to lay on the left side of the bed. He gestured to the other side of the bed awkwardly. Connor blushed slightly and got into the bed, not moving closer. Hank wanted him to, but he knew Connor probably wouldn't get the idea unless he said it bluntly, and there was no fucking way he was doing that. They sat there for what was probably a minute but felt like hours.

The dog, who must have somehow sensed the tension, climbed up from his spot at the foot of the bed. He got between the two of them, squeezing through and licking Connor's face. Connor giggled, and Hank swore that was the most adorable thing. Even though he'd heard it before... God. He was fucking smitten with Connor. Hank laughed too because even Connor's laugh was contagious. Sumo went back to lay down back at the foot of the bed, and Connor was laying down now. Hank felt awkward still half sitting-up, adjusting himself so he didn't look like an idiot. Connor was a lot closer now, Hank noticed. He said nothing, though, silently relishing the closeness of Connor. This was honestly what he had wanted all night, so he definitely was not complaining.

He turned on his side and faced Connor, smiling. Connor was smiling at him too now, his soft smile almost too much for Hank to handle.

"Thanks," Connor said gently. Very vague of him to say. That could honestly be for a number of things, but Hank took it. He just nodded, a half-assed attempt at a 'you're welcome' because he was getting very tired now that he was finally comfortable. He brushed a hair away from Connor's eyes and withdrew his hand, shutting his eyes and falling asleep smiling.