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The front door swung open, and swung shut. Finally the chaotic noise from the day was behind him, sealed in the snowy city behind him. Hank could feel the heavy, uncomfortable weariness settle in his joints. The day had been long, stressful, and left a pounding headache in his temples. Now he was finally home, albeit late, but... oh god, yes.
Just a few feet away, two of the greatest things to exist in the world rested across his couch. Sumo, curled in a tight ball, was pushed up against the sofa on the floor. He didn't even raise his head when the door clicked open. Above him, laying the couch, was Connor.
His sweet, precious, Connor.
Hank didn't want to stand there and gawk at him (again), so he tried quietly making his way to his side. Sumo finally woke up, just barely, to huff at his owner. He leaned down to scratch his ear.
Hank would never step down after boldly and confidently claiming Connor looked like an angel. Even when his hair was wild and he wore mismatched socks, even when he was glaring and yelling at him.
Before falling asleep by his lover's side, Hank reached out to grab the TV remote. He turned down the volume to a quiet whisper, then paused; Connor had the television set to a cooking channel. Maybe that's where he was getting his healthy dinner ideas... the thought brought a smile to Hank's tired face.
He sat down on the edge of the couch, right next to Connor's unmoving body. The moment Hank lightly caressed his freckle-covered cheek, the deviant roused from his sleep.
"Han...k?" Despite not needing to breathe or slowly wake up from an extended stasis-mode session, Connor silently yawned and rubbed at his eyes. One of his features was imitating common human mannerisms, and he was excellent at it.
"Right here, poodle." Hank sleepily smiled down at him. Connor propped himself up with one elbow and blinked at the older man for a moment.
He held his hand to Connor's back, lightly urging him upwards. The deviant moved without protest, a tiny smile appearing on his lips. He watched as Hank slid underneath him, and threw his arms around Connor's shoulders to pull him down.
"How was wor-" The deviant's words were cut short as he was dragged down into Hank's chest. He slowly sighed and nuzzled into his neck.
"'M tired," Hank mumbled. He kissed the top of Connor's head, through his thick brown hair.
"Alright, Hank."
The cozy home was draped into silence, aside from Sumo's frequent snores, the buzzing of the TV, and Hank's deep breathing. Their legs tangled together, and strong arms wrapped around Connor's waist.
The brunet reached behind him to grab hold of the quilt he had once been tangled up in. He tried slipping it up and over his shoulders, but had some struggles. Hank helped him by tugging the soft material over both of them, then returned his arms around the deviant comfortably laying on his stomach.
"...It was very considerate of your mother to gift you this quilt." Connor hummed. He rested his chin on Hank's chest and gazed at him, with stars practically lighting up his eyes.
"You like it more than I do," Hank huffed and turned his head to the side. Connor did the same, now able to hear his rhythmic heartbeat.
"Now... stop starin' at me, and go to sleep." Despite the annoyed tone he gave off, Hank was smiling the same smile that brought overheat warnings into Connor's HUD every single time.
"If it bothers you so much, then I will." Connor tucked one arm beneath Hank's neck, supporting him as comfortably as possible, while his other arm draped over his shoulder and hung off the side of the couch. The quilt above them kept their combined body heat and love for each other tucked safely between them.
"Goodnight Hank... I love you."
It took an extra second for Hank to reply, as he was already fading away.
"Love you too, poodle."