What I Need- a Hank Voight Chicago PD fanfiction

Stern

It smelled like stale beer and even staler dreams. Lana rolled a shoulder, trying to ease some of the tension that had built up during her 7 hour flight. New job, new town, but she would do the settling in later. Right now she had wanted the first dive bar she could find, and this fit the bill. She crossed to the bar, built into the back wall of an old laundromat. A couple change machines still stood in the corner, beside a payphone with a split wire and a missing phone. It was exactly the kind of place her mother taught her to never go. It was exactly the kind of place to take that edge off.

She ordered a beer, claimed a stool between two fellow drinkers more interested in their cups than the air around them. Not the type to strike up a conversation, and she sipped her drink in silence. She grimaced a little setting the bottle down. It wasn't bad, it wasn't good either.

"I'll take another."
The man on the stool beside her spoke, and Lana's head turned despite herself. It was a different kind of voice, rough in a way that sounded almost damaged and she found herself studying him.
He looked stern. Close cut hair and an even jaw. He was older, probably had fifteen years on her but he looked fit, built in a way that suggested whatever his job was, it saw some action. He wasn't handsome at first glance. The dim lighting strained the air and he looked too sharp in the shadows.
He glanced at her, that frank kind of look that so many people shied from. Sizing her up and questioning her stare all in one. He wasn't looking for company, and Lana's brow cocked as she took another swallow of her drink, gaze never leaving his. His lips moved, pursing a little like he was considering something, and Lana set her drink down with a smile.
Now that, that is exactly what she needed to take that edge off.

They made it back to her place. He had accepted her invitation with a shrug that said what the hell did he have to lose. He didn't even touch her until the door swung closed behind them, and then he walked her back against it, hand settling beside her head on the plain wood frame, gaze asking one simple question, did she really want to do this? She had invited him back to her appartment and he was holding off? She didn't know if he was just a gentleman or out of practice. Maybe both, but she tugged against him impatiently. This was already taking longer than she wanted.

It was all he needed. He pressed her hard and didn't stop until she was gasping. She got rough and he got rougher. That straining, bitter kind of desperation for distraction, exhaustion. She tasted it in him and she knew it well.

He stopped kissing her. Once they hit the bed it was simple need and he met every one. He didn't talk, and Lana held in every sound. It was a silent, intense battle that lasted until she had nothing left to give.

She lay panting, mind finally empty for the first time in days. He didn't even pretend to stay. Stood with sweat dripping down his back, tugged his shirt over head.
"There's water in the fridge." Lana offered, not bothering to dress as he finished pulling his shoes on.

"Thanks," he spoke over his shoulder, that same rough voice that had caught her interest and Lana smiled alittle.
He crossed to the kitchen on his way out the door. She heard the fridge open and close. She was surprised when he came back in.
He offered her a water bottle and she took it with a wry laugh. He was part gentleman after all. He stood with his hands in his pockets, as if debating what to say, before he shrugged a little.
"Have a good night."
Lana tipped the bottle to him in response before chugging it down. He left without another word.

She slept like she hadn't in ages

***

Voight didn't do this.

Didn't follow women out of a run down bar after nothing much more than a nod. He didn't bed them harder than he had any right to without ever knowing their name. But he was tired of caring. Her place was clean but empty. Boxes suggested she was either moving in or moving out. Her skin was soft and hot against his and he didn't have to guess what she wanted or be afraid to take what he needed.

Camille had never liked it rough. Said he worked too hard on the job, needed something soft when he came home.
Well he didn't have anything soft anymore. And he needed an out. To forget for one blasted second that he had lost almost everything he ever cared about.
He didn't have to think about the job. Justin. The body at the other end of that trigger that he saw every time he closed his eyes. He had thought liquor would drink those memories down.

He should have known better.

But for an hour he hadn't had to think of any of it.

He made it home and passed out on the couch. He kicked his shoes off but that was about it. His alarm was set for less than four hours. It was more sleep than he got most nights anymore.

***

Lana resisted the urge to smooth her shirt down again. First day on the job and she didn't want to clue anyone in that she was nervous. She was a professional. An asset. She could act like it.
They gave her a name badge at the desk, waved her up the stairs to the office she would work out of. People passed but didn't pay her much mind. She returned the favor.
She reached the top of the stairs and heads turned, a group of them looking at her with some mild surprise.

"Can I help you?" One straightened from where he was leaning on his desk, file in his hand snapping closed as he crossed to her. He was cute, in a put together kind of way, and Lana extended a hand.
"Lana Milani. I'm the new addition to your team."

He shook her hand but his gaze skitted to the others as he did so. "...what new addition?"
They look they passed around said they had no idea.

"She's running tech."

Lana's head snapped up at the voice, completely unmistakable.
The man she had pulled into her bed not twelve hours before now stood in the doorway of the office at the back, regarding her with a completely impassive eye, and Lana swallowed.

She hadn't been expecting this.