It’s the hair, Hank decides. It’s full and red and a little too perfect. Like android hair. Hair you can bury your fingers into to hold onto soft curls and that comes with a perfectly trimmed equally red beard.
The hair and the laugh. A loud bellow, full of warmth coming right from Colin’s belly and wrinkles his brown eyes. Then he slaps Connor right between the shoulder blades with a large hand and lets it linger there and the ugly green rage monster, that’s living in the back of Hank’s head, comes alive with a violent roar.
Maybe it’s not the hair or the laugh or the bright teeth he wants to punch in. It’s not even the way he enters the damn conference room, they’re holding the task force meetings at, like he owns the place. Or how the uniform fits him perfectly with his broad shoulders and tall muscular statue.
The only reason Hank downs his hot coffee and burns his mouth in the process is Connor.
Every morning he’s the first one Colin comes to greet. He’s agonizingly nice and respectful towards Hank, but with Connor he’s all broad smiles and dumb jokes, standing a little too close, sitting next to him at the conference table, only to lean over into his personal space to whisper some witty comment that makes Connor’s lips twitch slightly and all Hank wants to do, is throw Colin through the next glass door.
It’s a simple question that finally sends him over the edge.
“Lieutenant, can I ask you a personal question?”
The obvious answer is no but Hank just grunts as an answer as he watches Connor leave the room.
“You and Connor are partners, right?”
Hank rolls his eyes, but nods nevertheless.
“And he’s staying with you?”
“Care to get to the point?”
Colin clears his throat and straddles his own legs, obviously nervous.
“Is Connor… is he… interested in people… or seeing anyone?”
Hank grinds his teeth.
“Why don’t you ask him that?”
“I don’t want to come on too strong and I thought maybe you could help me out.” Colin shoves his shoulder in a buddy-like way.
Don’t punch him.
Hank puts down his coffee mug and scratches his beard.
“You know what?” Hank stands up and gives him the best smile he his able to fake. “Pretty sure he’s in the evidence room. Get him a coffee from the shop across the street, he likes the smell.” This is a blatant lie. Connor doesn’t really care for coffee smell at all. “And you can ask him yourself.” He pets the lads shoulder as if he needs encouragement.
Colin beams one of his toothy smiles and Hank almost feels bad, as he watches him head out, ready to buy a useless overpriced coffee.
As predicted Hank finds Connor alone in the evidence room reserved for the task force, adding their latest evidence to a virtual model of already revealed connections and information. He leans back as Hank puts his arms around him and entangles his fingers over his abdomen.
“You seem tense today.” Connor covers Hank’s hands with his very warm own ones.
“Do I?” Hank’s lips brush Connor’s ear and Hank can feel a chuckle vibrate through his body.
“This is inappropriate.” With Hank’s arms still around him, Connor slowly turns around to face him. Hank smiles at the well-known sensation of fingers running through his beard - he’d never get Connor’s fascination with his facial hair.
“Fuck appropriate.” He cups Connor’s ass with both of his hands and pulls him closer. “I’m too old for that.” He kisses Connor without waiting for an answer, who laughs a little into the kiss, but immediately reciprocates anyway and grabs his shoulders.
The sound of a cup of coffee meeting the ground and spilling its content over the floor makes them part almost violently. Colin is staring at them, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.
“He’s seeing someone.” Hank declares a little too loud and immensely satisfied, a possessive hand on the small of Connor’s back. He smiles non-apologetic. “Sorry.”
Forcing his mouth shut Colin turns on his wheel and leaves without another word.
“You knew he was coming.” Connor doesn’t even try to make it sound like a question.
“Yes.”
“You’re an ass.”