Office Hours

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[Compared to the other two, Oswald is much more difficult to get time with. He only appears on school grounds on Tuesdays and Sundays.

Nonetheless if you're determined... he can be found. Most of that time is spent hovering around the Faculty Office. It's almost like the Entrance Exam made him anxious of just walking around freely or something...]

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[They have both been holding in a great deal of bitterness and frustration. It had to come out eventually. Somehow it seems natural that it would be most easily shared between these two men suffering the same unfortunate fate. And Oswald isn’t someone he has to be careful with. He’s just as eager to play along; enjoying what it feels like to have someone kiss him while he makes some quick headway on the buttons of Hank’s school uniform.]

You have—

[Mmm he doesn’t even mind the strong taste of alcohol now. Somehow it just feels fitting.]

—my undivided attention.

[donotlick]

[ Better get used to it, buddy. Hank isn't about to be outdone. He keeps that hand on the back of Hale's head, keeps kissing him hungrily, starved for the touch he knows he doesn't deserve. It feels so good, just getting to be close to someone like this, even if it's someone he should hate and revile. Bitterly, he knows Connor wouldn't kiss like this, he would be gentle and kind and patient and innocent.

Maybe it's better that they're like this, since Hank knows Connor will never give him that, and he could never ask. ]

Good.

[ But Hank keeps going, despite self-conscious and self-loathing thoughts clawing at him while Hale works to get his shirt open. Hank knows he's not as toned as he used to be -- the muscle he has is hidden now under layers of fat and years of drinking, (It's not fair for Hale to be this hot, for the record,) but Hank doesn't even care anymore. Who is he even going to impress? Oswald Hale, the fucker who brought them here in the first place? Fuck that. Hank slides his other hand down Hale's back to his hips, pressing hard against him and tugging his shirt out from his pants. No way he's gonna miss out on the chance to see this guy naked. Hope he's not self-conscious. ]

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Mmm.

[Neither of them are like the people they pine after. But then maybe that’s why they’re here. Oswald Hale is self-conscious of many things. His body is not one of them. It’s well-toned and fit— he takes care of it in that respect. But there are several heavy scars that will be uncovered that betray other ways that he hasn’t taken such good care of it. His suit didn’t do his body great justice.

And yet he has no judgment to give the man in front of him. What Hank wears is the effect of many unkind years— he can respect that. And it’s more than enough to his deprived senses that someone is giving him this attention. That someone understands.

But also somehow he just knows that a man like Hank won’t disappoint him where it really counts.

Or maybe they’re all just excuses for being aroused when he has no right to be; desperately kissing back and letting his hips be driven against Hank’s and enjoying it.]

[donotlick]

[ Hank's no stranger to scars. With 30 years in the police force, he's been shot and wounded enough times to look more like a canvas at this point. He doesn't say anything about the rough spots on Hale's skin, though he certainly presses against them just to see if he can make Hale wince. He isn't going for gentle or kind here. He's going for good and perhaps fast and you'd best believe that all those years of experience have given Hank a fairly strong sense of how to get a man going.

He shifts and pulls Hale up against him, strong hands holding the younger man in place while he grinds his hips up and his hands begin to roam against his belt. ]

Take 'em off.

[ Hank orders, his voice a deep, low register that's more a growl than words. Hank can't pretend this isn't doing it for him -- kissing some hot, younger man who he definitely shouldn't -- holding him close, with no room to escape. Yeah, it's not Connor, but it's more than Hank's had in years and the alcohol makes the string of regret seem far, far away. Feeling Hale kiss back, watching him get more and more into this... yeah, that's a pretty good consolation prize, as far as things go. ]

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[Desperation is always a trait he's disliked seeing in himself-- it's a sign of weakness, and he strives to be anything but that. So then why right now is this desperate pace the hottest thing he's felt in years? Neither of them are what the other wants, and somehow in that, he's lost any pretext of having to pretend to be anything he's not. As affection goes, he's starved and lonely, which translates right now to desperate and horny.

He barely has room to wiggle; not that it stops him from trying. And the sting of familiar wounds only lights a fire under him further as Hank learns where they are and what buttons of Hale's he can push.

But that doesn't mean he's not obedient when the orders come out.]

Yes sir.

[Saying that in a deep, velvety purr while his hands make quick, practiced work of his pants. If it's good enough, why should he regret it? This is more than worth the small price. Pride is barely worth anything in the position he's in now anyway.

It's not easy to get naked when their lower halves are practically glued together-- yet he manages.

Not without trying to get a feel of Hank's goods in the process though.]

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Atta boy.

[ Hank enjoys making it hard for him, loves feeling Hale squirm while he struggles to do as he's told. He can feel Hank up all he wants, Hank certainly won't complain. He keeps holding Hale down against him, kissing him and crowding him even as his breaths start coming louder and his cock stirs , growing flush at the friction. ]

You gonna finish stripping me?

[ That's not a question. That's a command. ]