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Hank was having a bad day and it only just begun. Hank was laying on his stomach in bed and felt an aching awareness that he did not feel complete, that there is an empty weight between his legs. He contemplated calling out from work today, but he figured Connor would show up and drag him to a case anyways. Hank heaves himself out of bed and avoids making eye contact with any mirrors in his house. Hank dressed in his favorite outfit, the one that makes him feel incredible masculine but even that does not fill the void between his legs.
Connor noted that Hank was little later than usual. He watched as Hank sat in his chair and looked uncomfortable and in pain. Connor’s led flashes red to yellow as he quickly scans Hank, trying to see if there was something physically or internally wrong with his partner. Connor notes Hanks levels are higher than usual: probably anxiety Connor’s program conclude. Connor knew better than to ask Hank. It was always better to wait until hank started to talk about it or wait until they were in private.
It was a living situation Connor and Hank were in. Connor had his apartment in the heart of Detroit, while Hank was in a smaller neighborhood. After the revolution Connor had initially moved in with Hank but wanted to explore the freedom of his own space and it also benefited their relationship to have their own personal space and made the time they spent together a little extra special. Though Connor still stayed at Hank’s “randomly” or when one of them decided they did not want to be alone.
Throughout the day Connor made more scans to check on Hank, noticing how Hank constantly would squeeze his legs together then spread them so his thighs did not touch. Hank was grumpier than usual but also more quiet and was constantly fidgeting. The end of the day could not come fast enough.
When Connor got in the car, Hank made no comment. The drive was silent, not even the radio was blaring and it made it feel like they would never reach Hank’s place. Pulling into the driveway Hank got out quickly and simply left the front door ajar for Connor. Connor closed the door behind him and headed towards the kitchen to start dinner for Hank, who had disappeared to his room. Connor was delighted to see Hank started to have a semi-stocked fridge complete with meats and veggies.
Connor decided on beef and broccoli with noodles, hoping it was a good mix of healthy but also some comfort appeal. Connor carefully served a plat and set it on the table before going to retrieve Hank. Connor found Hank starting at himself in the mirror without a shirt on. Connor saw two very faint identical scars on both sides of his chest, defiantly not visible to the human eye.
“Hank?” Connor called softly.
“Jesus Connor, don’t you know how to knock,” Hank snapped and moved to cover his chest quickly looking defensive.
“I made dinner, it ready in the kitchen”
“Oh… thanks Con, I’ll be out in a second.”
Connor turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him before making his way back to the kitchen. It took Hank exactly 3 minutes 42.05 seconds before he came to dinner.
“It smells good Connor. Thank you”
They fell into silence the only noise was Hank’s chewing and Sumo’s soft snores.
“Are you alright Hank? You have seemed to be in distress all day” Connor deciding to break the silence before looking at Hank with pleading eyes.
High sighed and put his fork down in exchange to put his head in his hands.
“Its been a hard day Con…” Hank trailed off
When Connor realized Hank was not going to continue he decided to probe a bit, “ is it about Cole?” A simply question and something that happened often. Hank’s off days are not a frequent or as bad but he is still allowed to have them.
“No Connor, it’s something else.”
“Does it have to do with all the fidgeting you did today? And the scars on your chest?”
Hank’s eye snapped up to meet Connor’s and his brows furrowed, “you can see them, are they that noticeable?”
Anxiety, fear filled Hank’s voice and form, Connor noted.
“No, not to the human eye,” Connor quickly reassured, reaching out to Hank to hold his hand.
“It just... you know about me right? Hank asked and frowning when he saw Connor look confused and shake his head no.
“I wasn’t born a guy… I got top surgery a while ago or I guess it’s been a few decades now, but I never got bottom surgery and I’m too old and scared to consider it now,” Hank said staring into space not focused on the present moment. “Today is just one of the days were I regret not doing it. I don’t feel complete. A part of me is missing. Like if your biocomponent stops working or is taken out. There is a constant alert or reminder you are missing something and need to be fixed. By the time Hank was done he looked drained and ready to cry.
“Why don’t we have to the couch and watch some television to get you mind off things, unless if you want to talk about it more?” Hank shakes his head but moves with Connor to the living room. When both are seated, Connor shifts to collect Hank into his arms and to cradle him to his chest. Connor and Hank simply lay in silence until Connor felt his shirt getting wet, being stained by Hank’s tears.
“It’s just not fair Connor.” Hank manages to get out through the tears and quiet sobs. Connor simply held Hank tighter and began to stroke his hair and hum Hank’s favorite Jazz song. Connor could not help but feel bad for not being able to put Hank at ease, calm him down, or even relate. Connor is simply about to change a plate to have his penis or be flat. The only thing Connor can hope is that his presence right now is enough.
Hank settles down and shifts slightly before letting out a soft snore. Connor could not help the small smile and he readjust his hold on Hank before entering static.