Business Meeting

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/46033267.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Relationship: Hank Anderson/Connor, Connor/Elijah Kamski, Connor/Markus (Detroit:
Become Human), Connor/Luther (Detroit: Become Human),
Connor/Jeffrey Fowler
Character: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson, Elijah Kamski,
Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Luther (Detroit: Become Human),
Jeffrey Fowler
Additional Tags: Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Creampie, Gangbang, Orgy,
Squirting, Collars, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Vaginal Fingering,
Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Sex, Wet & Messy, t4t, Trans Male
Character, Teasing, I'm a trans guy writing hot smut about trans guys.
please don't get weird about it, Crime Boss Hank Anderson, Alternate
Universe - Mob, Free Use, Nipple Play, Exhibitionism, Non-Op or Pre-
Op Trans Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-03-26 Words: 5,015 Chapters: 1/1

Business Meeting
by gildedfrost

Summary

Hank Anderson hosts a meeting with some of Detroit's most prominent individuals,
including activists, CEOs, and senators. One of his employees, Connor—who's all dolled up
in lacy lingerie—takes care of their needs while they chat.

Notes

It's implied in the fic, but just in case, I want to clarify that everything is consensual and
boundaries are pre-negotiated.

Please note the tags. Connor is non-op or pre-op and enjoys his body. I know it's a sensitive
topic, but this fic reflects some of my own personal feelings about my body before top
surgery. I like to explore a lot of different trans perspectives and experiences in my fics, and
this is only one of them.

See the end of the work for more notes

Connor sits in the lap of Senator Alexander Nilsen, slowly riding his cock with his head buried in
the senator’s neck. The other man breathes heavily and sweats beneath his warm, tailored suit,
pristine until five minutes ago when he loosened his tie and pulled out his cock. Nilsen tries not to
moan and pay attention to the meeting, but he’s no longer taking notes, his hands wrapped around
Connor’s waist instead.

Connor makes no such attempts at professionalism. He grunts and groans as his own pleasure
builds, and he delights in the squelching sounds of Nilsen’s cock in his slick hole. Everyone in the
room is dressed for their jobs: The rest of them in suits or dresses, with Connor in expensive,
custom-made lingerie. He wears thigh-high black boots, a thong that barely hides a thing, an
unlined lace bra that shows off his ample breasts, and a collar with his name embroidered on it.

On paper, he’s paid as Hank’s personal assistant. Hank offered him a job after watching his cam
show and finding out he was local. Getting pulled into this life was beyond anything he ever
expected—both the pay and the whole organized crime thing—but the standard work’s not bad, the
sex and attention are a dream, and he’s found a purpose in working for Hank, something he didn’t
feel he had when he was struggling to make ends meet. Sometimes he wonders if he’s any different
from the people who dedicate themselves to their corporate jobs, but not a lot of those people get to
fuck their boss or walk home with diamonds.

As far as legality goes, nobody’s going to rat them out for what they do behind closed doors. Not
unless they’re willing to risk blackmail or violence. They all know there’s cameras recording
everything in this room.

He sighs and grinds down harder. Nilsen’s straight, married, and Catholic, yet was one of the first
in this room to take an interest in Connor’s services. Connor wonders if he’s closeted or just horny
and repressed. Either way, he hasn’t asked; no one here digs into personal lives unless they plan to
do something with that information. At least Nilsen’s no longer as awkward as he used to be,
stammering and blushing beet red, though he hasn’t yet worked up the courage to do everything he
wants. Connor’s seen his hands start moving up to his breasts more than once, only to shift back
down to Connor’s hips, though he knows well by now that Connor likes to be touched there.

So long as the men here respect that he is a man himself, he wants them to touch him everywhere.

Nilsen thrusts upwards in short motions, a sure sign he’s getting close. Connor stops riding entirely
and just grinds down, his own swollen cock rubbing against the moistened fabric of the senator’s
slacks. He tilts his head towards the head of the table to see Hank looking right at him, heat in his
eyes despite the serious, focused expression on his face. Connor winks at him and moans loudly,
squeezing tightly around Nilsen. The discussion pauses for only a moment.

A few thrusts later, Nilsen comes. His hands tighten on Connor’s waist as his cock throbs. Connor
keeps moving, taking his own pleasure and absorbing all the little sounds and movements Nilsen
makes. He lingers until Nilsen is done, then elegantly slides from his lap. He adjusts his stride to
ensure that whatever cum comes out slides down his already coated thighs rather than dripping to
the floor.

Elijah Kamski snaps his fingers from the other side of the table. Connor glances at Hank, receives
a shrug, and flicks Kamski the bird. They’re both on good terms with the billionaire—he’d be a
thorn in their side otherwise—but initially, he’d made the mistake of misgendering Connor, then
after being corrected, berated Connor’s body as abnormal for a trans man. It took some months and
a genuine apology before Connor would let Kamski touch him.

Now, he makes the man wait, as a reminder and an example to others that they need to respect him.
It clearly frustrates Kamski, but it makes him possessive and rough by the time Connor gets to him.
Even more so if Connor left him dry in the prior meeting.

No one here gets as possessive as Hank, and Hank makes sure Connor knows he’s his.

Markus Manfred used to have the senator’s nerves, but he’s settled into these meetings as naturally
as he has public speaking. Despite his clear opposition to the illegal actions of Hank and other
shady business owners in this room, he knows these meetings are necessary if he wants to keep the
money rolling in for his social rights organization, and he’s shrewd enough to negotiate favorable
deals. He reaches out in invitation when Connor comes close.

At first, Connor had thought it odd that Markus’ partner Simon sat directly across from him at
these meetings, but now he knows it’s part of their game. Simon’s locked in chastity and it’s a
power play that gets both of them incredibly turned on. Connor’s made it a habit to give Simon a
lap dance before taking anyone’s cock, getting them both in the mood before the real show starts.
Someday he hopes to take Simon’s cock and show Simon what he’s missing, but that’s not his call
to make.

Connor acquiesces to the request and sits in Markus’ lap with his back to Markus’ chest. Markus
runs his hands along Connor’s sides until they reach his chest, then he cups Connor’s breasts.
“Okay?” Markus asks, whisper quiet. He always asks. Connor always says yes. He knows
Connor’s consent is implied, but he likes to confirm—and to tease Connor.

He won’t be teasing long with the hard-on he’s packing.

“Yes. Touch me,” Connor says, just quietly enough not to disturb the conversation. Markus
squeezes him through his bra, kneading his firm breasts languidly. Connor arches his back,
pressing his chest further into Markus’ skilled hands, and catches a flash of jealousy from both
Simon and Hank. He makes small, breathy sounds of pleasure and rubs his ass against Markus’
crotch. Cum and slick make a mess of Markus’ neat jeans.

Unlike the senator, Markus takes his time. He wants to feel every inch of Connor that his hands
can reach and make him squirm. His fingers massage Connor’s cock and dip inside his hole,
spreading slick further around his thighs, but it doesn’t give Connor much relief. It would be too
distracting for Connor to beg, so he does his best to tempt Markus by pressing down against his
bulge.

Markus chuckles quietly before finally unzipping his pants. His cock slips inside Connor smoothly.
Connor sighs, relieved to be filled. He angles his hips such that Markus can thrust up into him as is
his preference. Every stroke presses firmly against his front walls, making the ache inside Connor
build. He yearns to touch himself; he hasn’t come yet today, but in these meetings, he’s not
permitted to get himself off. It has to be someone else’s doing.

Markus’ fingers ghost past Connor’s cock. He whines and bucks forward, but Markus wraps an
arm around his waist and pulls him closer. The shift in angle causes his cock to hit Connor’s G-
spot head on.

Suddenly the squelching gets louder as Connor gets wetter, tension building inside of him. Thick
liquid heat drips from him like a faucet. Markus moves his hand back to rub Connor’s cock.
There’s hardly any friction from all the wetness, but it’s enough to push one kind of tension over
the edge, making Connor squirt.

A loud, high-pitched moan escapes Connor’s mouth. Markus clamps his hand over his mouth and
he can taste his own tangy slick. Connor gushes as Markus continues to pound him, soaking
Markus’ pants and no doubt making a mess of the chair and floor. Connor moves his hips
erratically, seeking the right kind of pressure that will bring him to orgasm, but Markus’
movements slow to a stop and he releases Connor’s mouth.

Firm hands reach down to hold his hips in place. Connor looks down at the mess of slick and cum,
then looks over his shoulder at Markus’ amused face. He belatedly realizes that Markus must have
come. “Oh,” Connor murmurs, face tinting pink.

Markus kisses his cheek. “Good boy,” he says in a way that makes the heat inside Connor nearly
unbearable.

Connor stands on shaky legs and adjusts his bra. He would offer Markus a towel, but Simon always
brings a bag with wipes and a change of clothes. He catches the senator staring at him and wiggles
his butt.

He makes his way around the room, past Hank at the head of the table. Hank has no qualms about
fucking anyone in front of others, whether it’s Connor or the other sex workers he hires at his clubs
and offices, but he keeps it in his pants while official meetings are ongoing. Something about
keeping a clear head. Hank’s a passionate man, after all. He could get carried away and lose track
of the meeting just like Nilsen does.

Especially when it’s Connor. He’s seen the way Hank looks at the other men and women he fucks.
There’s lust and passion, and Hank respects all of them as much as anyone else in his network, but
the intensity he has with Connor is on another level. The fact that Connor’s the only one he brings
home proves that he stands apart.

It’s not just a work relationship, a paycheck, or basic loyalty. There’s something else that Connor
can’t name. Something that ties them together beyond all of that.

Kamski snaps the strap of his thong, pulling him from his thoughts. Connor swats his hand, then
leans into his space and gropes Kamski’s cock through the fabric of his pants. A smug smile
makes its way onto Kamski’s face. It fades when Connor abruptly stops and steps back, walking
away without a word.

He passes by Simon and two women—Amanda Stern, a close associate of Kamski’s; and Kara,
Hank’s sometimes-rival and sometimes-friend—and puts a hand on Luther’s shoulder. Luther grins
and nods, pushing his chair back enough to give Connor space. Kara doesn’t hide her interest as
she watches Connor crawl under the table. Connor has a strict boundary in that he only plays with
men, but anyone else can look as much as they please, and Kara loves to look; the tent in her pants
would tell him even when he can’t see her face.

Luther unbuckles his pants and shifts them down a few inches to reveal his glistening cock and the
wet folds beneath it. Connor shuffles forward and buries his face between Luther’s legs, lapping at
his cock. It’s swollen and meaty, standing stiffly at attention, an impressive few inches long and as
thick around as two of Connor’s fingers. He licks the underside from the base to the head, slow and
teasing, then flicks his tongue against the tip and watches it bounce. It throbs and twitches in
response.

Keeping his hands on Luther’s thighs (and obediently not touching himself), Connor takes Luther’s
entire cock into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling his tongue around the sides and working his
lips at the base. Luther’s soft grunts and sighs make his own cock twitch. It’s incredibly satisfying
to take a man so easily like this, swallowing him whole and making him feel good.

When Luther starts to shift, Connor picks up the pace and sucks harder, bobbing his head and
working his tongue around Luther’s most sensitive points. He channels his own need into pleasing
Luther instead. Slick builds up around his mouth and on his chin. The mess he’s made of himself,
both his face and his lower half, makes him throb and clench around nothing. Cum and slick trickle
down the inside of his thigh.

From the corner of his eye, he watches Kara bring down a hand to rub herself through her clothing.
Moments later, Luther grasps Connor’s head with both his hands, laces his fingers through
Connor’s hair, and moves Connor’s head at a harder, rougher pace. Connor revels in being used for
someone else’s pleasure, and he allows Luther to fuck his mouth as he has many times before.

Luther holds Connor’s head firmly against himself when he comes, pulsating inside Connor’s
mouth. Connor keeps sucking and licking until Luther releases him and pushes him off.

Connor has half a mind to crawl back into Markus’ lap and beg the man to touch him. Most people
here don’t try to get Connor off since they, like Hank, enjoy watching him get all keyed up
without release, but Markus works wonders with his hands and is more than happy to wring one
orgasm after another from him—when he wants to, that is. Instead, Connor moves along to the
next man, whose cock is already out and hard for him, waiting for his mouth.

The indecency of being paid by a mob boss to suck off a police captain makes Connor shiver.
Captain Fowler’s got a chip on his shoulder like the rest of them, and his legal blind spot is made
larger thanks to his enduring friendship with Hank from their time together in the force. That was
before Hank broke off to pursue the family business. Fowler isn’t inclined to sleep with anyone
who isn’t his wife, but even he has his vices; an unseen individual giving him a blowjob under the
table is one of them, and Connor makes it all the better with just how skilled he is with his mouth.

Connor takes the head into his mouth and works the rest of the shaft in slowly. He takes part of it,
backs off halfway, then repeats, leisurely taking it all bit by bit. The pace that would be agonizing
to some, but Fowler enjoys the payoff. When Connor reaches the base, he keeps up the pattern,
pulling back half an inch then taking it down to the base again. Though his dick is of average
length, Connor has to fight off his gag reflex. He flexes his tongue and throat to massage Fowler’s
thick cock. Tears prick his eyes.

Fowler is always gentle with him. He only thrusts occasionally into Connor’s mouth, keeping the
action short and brief. It seems like an instinctive movement. Connor picks up the pace, pulling
back a couple of inches now before swallowing him to the base. Spit dribbles from his mouth.
Some days he wishes Fowler would fuck his mouth the way Luther does, make him take his cock
and feel the force of his primal need, but the captain is too considerate. At least this way he gets to
tease Fowler, slowing down when Fowler starts shifting and savoring the muffled sounds from
above the table.

By now, Connor knows everyone’s tells. He backs off when Fowler gets close and speeds things
up, sucking half his shaft and stroking the other half. Fowler drops his pen and grips the table
when he comes, unable to stifle a moan. Connor makes sure to suck him through his orgasm,
taking every last drop of his cum.

Instead of swallowing, Connor tilts his head forward and lets the cum drip down his chin and
chest. He already looks thoroughly debauched, but cum on his tits makes him feel a particular way.
He wants to look a mess in every way possible.

Back towards the head of the table, Kamski’s sporting a hard-on under the table, still clothed, and
Luther’s stroking Kara’s exposed cock under the table. Hank’s jeans do nothing to hide his own
erection, clearly outlined as it extends along his thigh. There’s a damp spot at the tip.

Connor crawls back out from under the table. He winks at those further down the table who he
already fucked before the senator. They pay him little attention, more focused on the discussion at
hand, though one of them has a very red face. It’s an important meeting, after all, and very difficult
to get this many high-ranking people in a room at a time, but Connor wouldn’t mind a second go
with some of them. There are some very nice dicks hiding in those pants.

He sashays away from the table and towards the refreshments, taking a long drink from a glass of
water. Chloe sits in a chair beside the drinks. As Kamski’s secretary and mistress, she’s always
offered a seat at the table, but instead chooses to sit out of the way, claiming that she’s here to
listen, not speak. Connor hasn’t quite figured her out yet, but he thinks she likes to watch, and
there’s a much better vantage point from back here. He’s not sure if their roles here are an
extension or a reversal of their dom/sub dynamic.

A pair of arms wraps around him after he sets down his glass. “You have terrible manners,”
Kamski scolds, his breath hot against Connor’s neck. He practically envelops Connor with his
chest against Connor’s back. He humps Connor’s backside and brings his hands up to his chest,
pushing beneath his bra to squeeze his breasts directly.

If Connor could get harder or wetter, he would. Some days, he denies Kamski entirely, setting up a
boundary before Kamski can even touch him; other days, Connor’s the one who takes control,
taking Kamski to the edge and leaving him dry or pushing the boundaries of pleasure and pain.
Right now, he wants to be used and treated like a plaything.

Chloe watches attentively and sips champagne.

“What are you going to do about it?” Connor asks.

Kamski kneads his breasts and pinches his nipples. He unlatches Connor’s bra from the back,
tossing it aside and groping him again while sucking along Connor’s shoulder. It sends a thrill
through him knowing that the hickeys will rile Hank up.

The way Kamski feels him up is as if he can’t get enough of Connor. He touches Connor’s breasts,
belly, and thighs. He dips two fingers into Connor’s hole, palm brushing against Connor’s cock.
His hands always come back to Connor’s breasts while his bulge relentlessly presses between the
cheeks of Connor’s ass.

Professionally, Kamski’s a patient man. When it comes to sex, he very much isn’t. He pushes
Connor towards the ground while unzipping his pants, then pushes Connor’s thong aside and
sheathes himself completely. He mounts Connor like a desperate man, chest against Connor’s back
and arms wrapped around him, fucking him hard and fast against the floor.

Connor gasps and moans, struggling to keep quiet, though the wet sounds of the sloppy fuck are
obscenely loud on their own. His mind blanks from the pleasure, both from the intense sensations
and the way Kamski takes control over him. His hole flutters and cock twitches as he pushes
towards his own peak. Of course, he plateaus, held at an edge that he can’t crest without external
stimulation, and he scratches at the floor with blunt nails while writhing beneath Kamski.

Kamski slows down after a couple of minutes, pushing into him with hard, slow thrusts that push
the breath out of him. It feels so damn good, but it’s clear that Kamski is chasing his own pleasure,
neglecting to focus on the angles that Connor prefers. He squeezes Connor’s breasts so much that
Connor wonders if they’ll bruise. It doesn’t matter; it all makes Connor feel so hot he could
combust.

The pace picks back up and Kamski slams into Connor once more, fast and eager. Connor clamps
down as tightly as he can in pursuit of friction and it makes Kamski’s hips stutter. It isn’t long
before Kamski’s thrusts turn erratic as he loses control, then he pushes himself fully inside Connor
with a groan.

He loses track of time after that. One of the other CEOs requests his attention again, then he
bounces on a shy activist’s cock for the first time. The meeting ends sometime after that last fuck
while Connor’s in a daze, seated in the chair next to Chloe. Half the guests stand and shuffle their
way out the door.

“Connor,” Hank calls from the head of the table, snapping Connor out of it. He taps the table.

Connor stands immediately. He discards his thong, then walks over to Hank and sits on the edge of
the table, spreading his legs wide. His skin is tacky and slick, and he’s still so wet and filled that
he’s leaking.

“God, you’re filthy,” Hank says. He runs a hand down Connor’s front, pausing at the hickeys and
then the nipples, cupping his breasts briefly. He thumbs the collar with Connor’s name on it. “Turn
around.”

Connor slips off the table and turns around, bending over with his chest against the table. He keeps
his legs spread. Unlike before, when people tried to keep focused on the meeting but would glance
at him, all the focus is now on him and Hank.

Hank unzips his jeans and pushes his thick cock halfway into Connor’s hole. He nudges the sides
of Connor’s thighs, encouraging him to push them closer together, and Connor complies. It makes
the fit feel tighter. With Hank’s girth, it makes him feel completely filled.

Hank makes no attempt to stay quiet and neither does Connor. It’s all a show now and there’s
nothing to interrupt. He still isn’t permitted to touch himself, but the fact that he couldn’t even if he
wanted to, given his current position, makes him that much needier.

“Please,” Connor whimpers after a couple of minutes. Markus, Amanda, and Kara are openly
touching themselves. It makes his face burn to ask for anything in front of an audience.

“Please what?” Hank growls. He thrusts harder. Connor’s already wetter than before thanks to the
way Hank’s cock curves and the way he moves his hips; he knows how to hit Connor’s sweet
spots.

“Please let me come, Sir,” Connor begs. “Please touch my cock, Sir.”

“Do you want everything to be about you? That’s very selfish.”

“Please come inside me, Sir.”

Hank moans at that. He fucks faster, but only briefly, before pulling out his cock entirely. “You
want me to come inside you?”

“Please, Sir.”

“But everyone else already has.” Hank dips his fingers inside Connor’s hole. He pointedly avoids
touching Connor’s cock, but crooks his fingers with pinpoint precision, pressing firmly against
Connor’s G-spot and rubbing.

Connor shouts, squirting after only a few seconds. His legs tremble but he stays standing. The
boots he wears not only look good on him, but they’re sturdy, meant to keep him upright in cases
like these.
“Is that what you want me to have? Sloppy seconds?” Hank continues to press, making him
continue to gush hot slick and soaking Hank’s hand. “I deserve better than that.”

It’s too much. “Stop,” Connor says, and Hank immediately withdraws his hand. He sighs in relief
as the pressure stops, no longer feeling like he’s going to explode one way or another.

Hank rubs his hand tenderly across Connor’s lower back. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, I’m fine. We can continue,” Connor reassures him. “Just no more G-spot massages.”

“Okay,” Hank says. He kisses Connor’s back, then goes back to fingering him, pressing inside but
not against his front wall. “Is this fine?”

“Yes. Please,” Connor says, slipping back into the comfort of the scene. “Come inside me, Sir. I
have other holes, one that hasn’t yet been used.”

Hank takes his excessively slick hand and presses it against Connor’s ass. “Do you want me to
come inside this hole?”

“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

“Say it.”

Connor keeps his head up, knowing that if he lowers it, Hank will pull him back up until he faces
the audience. “Please come inside my ass, Sir.”

Hank presses the head of his slick cock against Connor’s ass. He pulls apart Connor’s cheeks and
pushes inside slowly. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans. Connor relaxes his muscles, though it’s
difficult when he’s so sensitive and can feel every little bit of Hank’s cock pressing into him.

It would be easier to relax if he could touch himself. Hank knows this. He wants Connor tense and
tight.

The lubrication coating Hank’s cock helps it slide in all the way. Connor gasps and spreads his legs
wider. He feels so incredibly stretched out and so completely filthy as cum drips from his hole.
“Please fuck me, Sir,” he manages to say.

Hank starts with a few slow thrusts as if testing the waters, then quickly speeds up to the pace he
was at before. Inside Connor’s ass, it’s a very demanding pace that empties his mind and leaves
him focused on the intensity of the sensations. There’s no room left for him to think as he zeroes in
on Hank’s cock ramming into him. Despite the lubrication, there’s much more friction,
highlighting every sensation.

Connor clenches intermittently, making the tightness nearly unbearable before he relaxes again, but
every squeeze makes Hank’s breath hitch. He never lasts long after watching Connor get used by
his associates, and neither of them try to drag it out. The longer sessions wait for the bedroom
when Hank’s in the mood for it and ready with pills. Right now, Hank takes what he wants,
seeking his own pleasure, and it drives Connor wild to be used like this.

Hank bends over him when he gets close. He pins Connor’s arms to the table and pumps into him
hard and fast, ramping up to an impossible speed, then grunts loudly when he comes and buries his
cock to the hilt. Connor moans in a daze, overwhelmed by sensation.

His legs are trembling too much to support himself by the time Hank withdraws. Connor finds
himself pulled into Hank’s lap. Bearded kisses press against his jaw and he tilts his head back to
show his neck. “You’ve been so good for all of us today,” Hank murmurs, making Connor sigh
contentedly. His lips brush past the collar. “Did you get to come?”

“No. I want to,” Connor says. His brain is too scrambled to remember the Please or Sir but Hank
doesn’t comment on it.

“Then I’ll have to make you come, baby,” Hank says. He takes something from his pocket (which
Connor can’t see, staring out across the room) and presses something solid to Connor’s cock before
flicking the switch.

The vibrations hit him hard. “Fuck!” Connor shouts, bucking upwards. Hank keeps his arm firmly
wrapped around Connor’s waist, holding him in place as he writhes. It feels so fucking good to
finally have his cock touched and the strong vibrations go right to his core.

Hank doesn’t tease. He moves the wand along either side of Connor’s cock with a moderate
amount of pressure, just the way Connor likes. It’s almost too much when it reaches his head, but
Hank eases off to focus on the sides and base. In only a minute, Connor’s a panting, sweating
mess, more lively than he has been all day.

Connor clenches his thighs tightly around the wand, forcing it firmly against himself, then comes
hard. The orgasm rips through him with a jolt and makes him quiver in Hank’s arms. It’s good, and
then it’s too much again, but the moment he shifts to get away, Hank clicks off the vibe.

“There you go, that’s it, you’re such a good boy,” Hank croons. He waves his hand towards the
table in a dismissive gesture and the room empties out.

Connor tucks his head against Hank’s neck. “I think the meeting went well,” he mumbles.

“How much did you catch?”

“Most of it. You shouldn’t make so many false promises to Nilsen.”

Hank chuckles. “You giving me business advice now?”

“You’re a man of your word. You’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah, well.” Hank shrugs. “If he can swing a second term, he’ll deserve it. North’s campaigning
against him. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

“She won’t be as easy to bribe.”

“She will be,” Hank promises. “She’s got a soft spot for Markus. But don’t worry about politics
right now, sweetheart. Turn your brain off for a few minutes.” He kisses Connor’s forehead and
runs a hand through Connor’s hair. “Don’t ruin the afterglow by talking about Nilsen.”

Connor grins. “But I like his cock.”

“Then talk about me instead.”

He glances down to find Hank’s cock is half-hard again, then sucks in a breath. Heat warms his
loins despite how wrung out he feels. “You took a pill.”

“I didn’t expect everyone to go that hard on you. We don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Connor says quickly. No matter his fatigue, he always wants to watch Hank come
apart and to feel Hank inside of him. With Hank being so gentle with him, he dares to ask: “Can
 we go slowly this time? I want to savor it.”

Hank clicks his tongue. “You’re getting bold,” he warns without any bite.

“Your legs will cramp before you come,” Connor points out.

“Not if you’re riding me.”

“Then I’ll ride you as slow as I can,” Connor says. “How about the garden? We haven’t fucked
outside in a while.”

Hank kisses his cheek. “Get dressed, but don’t clean yourself up. I like when you’re a mess.”

“Deal.” Connor steals a kiss from Hank’s lips, catching him by surprise and making Hank smile a
brief, genuine smile. He rolls out of Hank’s lap, expertly balancing upright and swaying as he
walks towards the corner where his bag is. His holes ache in a good way. He reaches back and dips
a finger into his ass, feeling cum slip out around his fingers, and grins when he hears Hank make a
muffled sound behind him.

He’s not sure that what they have needs a name. Not as long as they’re together like this.

End Notes

Thank you for reading!

You can find me on Twitter as @gildedfrost (18+), and I spend time in the New ERA DBH
Discord server as well!

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!