Date: Mon, 17 Dec 2012 06:01:37 -0800 (PST) From: k d Subject: Reconnecting with Chris (Part Two) Hey guys! I didn't really anticipate continuing this story, but I found myself thinking about it the other day and decided to add another portion. If you like this, feel free to look up some of my other stories in the prolific authors section under "K D." You can also join my Yahoo Groups page, which you can find at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/dk_erotic_stories. Hope you guys enjoy this story as much as the first chapter and, as always, feel free to shoot me an email with any comments. I do my best to answer all of them! Thanks for reading! Reconnecting with Chris (Part Two) "Alright guys, we're not going to the playoffs, but that doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean this winning this game, our last game, isn't important. Let's break the streak, end this season fucking right, and get our winning streak started for next season! Ready?" All the guys in the huddle cheered their quarterback and Hank called the play quickly. It wasn't anything fancy, just a passing route that would give him three options in the end zone. Hank's rookie season hadn't gone particularly well, but nobody had expected it to. His team, the Redskins, was on a six game losing streak to end the season – but they had a chance here in the last game, the last play to close out the season right. It was fourth and goal and they were two yards away from the winning touchdown. Three straight runs had been stuffed and exhausted all three of their time outs, so the coach gave the ball to his quarterback for the last play of the game. Everyone lined up and Hank surveyed the defense, but it is about what he had expected – tight goal line defense. He called the snap, accepted the ball from center, and took his drop checking his reads. He could tell immediately that the defense had been expecting run, so that was good – but there still wasn't much time. The tight end was locked up short of the end zone, no good. Greenley, his favorite receiver, was doubled covered in the end zone. He considered trying to thread it into him, just as he saw the backup running back streaking across the end zone with a defender at least two feet behind him. He whipped the ball out, positioning it perfectly for the back to snatch it, just before he ran out of bounds. The officials signaled touchdown, the crowd erupted, and Hank cheered too, racing towards the end zone to embrace his new best friend. *** The celebration couldn't compare to the victory at the game, but Hank figured it was close. He and several of his buddies from the team were barhopping through some of DC's hotspots dancing, meeting girls, and getting absolutely hammered. It was barely even midnight, but Hank probably had fifteen phone numbers tucked into his pocket. Most were women that recognized him and were throwing themselves in his direction, but a few didn't seem to recognize him either. It was all good, either way worked. Of course, tucked in there with those numbers was one that wasn't like the rest. When his buddies had gone to the bar to get more drinks one brave young man approached Hank on the dance floor, smiling slightly. He congratulated him on the win and as they shook hands passed him his phone number. Hank had looked up at him, slightly surprised, and the young man just shrugged with his easy smile and said, "Figured the worst you could say was `no thanks.'" Hank was polite and smiled back at the guy, but told him that he wasn't interested. The other guy didn't seem the least bit surprised, shrugged, congratulated him again, and headed off to dance with his friends. It was shortly thereafter that his buddies returned with drinks, passing some sort of shot into his hand as he stared back at the man who had passed him his phone number. *** The young quarterback groaned in discomfort as he opened his eyes to find the room he was sleeping in to be altogether way too bright. His head was screaming in pain and his body was sore from the pounding he took yesterday on the field. Blinking repeatedly to try and get his bearings, he looked around the unfamiliar room and cursed quietly at himself. Running a hand through his dirty blonde hair, he swept the covers off of his naked body and set about trying to find his clothes that were piled up with another man's clothes on the floor. `Why does this keep fucking happening?' he thought to himself as he tugged his boxer briefs up his legs, finally covering himself up. "I was amazed you were still here when I woke up," a voice announced from the doorway. Hank looked up to find the man that he had vague memories of last night standing shirtless in the doorway, just wearing a pair of sexy black briefs. "Figured that I'd wake up to an empty bed, wondering if I had just dreamed about you." Despite his discomfort, he managed to smirk at that, "Well, I was pretty blitzed, I think. What time is it?" "Eleven. And is that the line you're going with? You were drunk?" Hank shrugged as he pulled his shorts on, "Don't know what to tell you man, I was drunk. I'm sure you noticed that." The other man laughed, "Yeah, I caught on. What I mean is: you're way too good for that to be one drunken mistake." "Thanks, I guess," he answered in a deadpan as he tugged a black tank top over his muscular chest. "I need to get going, though." "What? No brunch?" he asked with a knowing smile before taking a sip of his coffee. The sarcastic question did bring a smile to Hank's face, finally, but he was in no mood to stick around and eat with his one night stand. Plus, the idea of food made his stomach roil from the overindulgence the night before. Holding a hand to his stomach he declined, "Nah... I think I'm going to get home. Thanks for, uh, last night, I guess." He nodded, still smiling, "Do I have the honor of knowing that you cheated on your girl with me?" Hank shook his head, "I don't have a girlfriend. They come and go." "And the guys?" "Look," he began, rubbing his temples to try and dull the pain, "I'm not gay. Things happen sometimes. Can't we just say we had a good time and leave it at that?" "Oh, no question about that," he answered, laughing again. He pushed himself off the door frame where he had been watching Hank dress and walked over to the bed. Setting down his coffee on the nightstand, the nearly naked man began to make his bed. Hank turned to leave, but just before he was out the bedroom door, the man spoke again, "Just remember. It's not a drunken mistake if it happens over and over again." Hank stopped for a second as he pondered his one night stand's words before heading out of the room and his apartment wordlessly. *** Hank knew there was a certain amount of truth to what the man had told him, but of course he didn't need some random gay dude to get him confused about his sexuality. If it was just `drunken mistakes' he knew that he'd probably be able to rationalize it. The problem wasn't the `drunken mistakes,' it was the experiences he'd had when he was stone cold sober. Chris McCoy had started it all when they were teenagers in high school. They were the same age, but didn't run in exactly the same circles, though they knew each other. Hank was an athlete, of course, and very popular. Chris was popular too, but not for the same reasons. His parents had money, so he ran with that crowd – plus he was smart, so all of the teachers loved him. He had seen Chris at this or that party or been in class with him. They were friendly, but just acquaintances. Most of the athletes had a nervous apprehension about Chris, because the one knock against his popularity is that everyone assumed he was gay. He was cute, smart, rich, and outgoing but never had a girlfriend, even though any one of those traits could probably have attracted someone. A stereotype sure, but in this case it was right. Hank's last period of the day his senior year was empty since it was spring and football season was over, but since he was going to play in college his coach had him on a regular regimen to stay in playing shape – so he used that last period to workout. It was always nice because the spring sports like baseball and track rarely used the space except when it was raining, so he had it to himself most of the time. It was one of those times when Chris found him in the locker room. They were both surprised, Hank thought he was alone and the whole reason Chris came in was because he thought it would be empty. To this day, he couldn't really pinpoint how it happened. By all rights, whether Chris was gay or not, nothing should have happened. But, when Hank stepped out of the shower room to find Chris rummaging through a buddy's locker for a book he had left, there was something about the way Chris stared at his body that turned Hank on immensely. The moment he saw that look, he knew the gay rumors the guys passed around were undoubtedly true. A nervous excitement coursed through his body as he met Chris' lustful gaze. It didn't last long. He let Chris' trembling hands caress his hard muscles and then his cock, giving the other boy a mouthful of his teen cum probably no more than a minute after he replaced his hand with his mouth. After that, they both bolted. For two weeks, Hank wouldn't even look at Chris whether it be in a shared class or passing in the hall. It wasn't until a party at Chris' house that he even found himself in a conversation with the gay teen. Hank had almost decided not to go, but his friends had pushed him into it. He didn't have a valid excuse and remembered very clearly that he couldn't say, "Oh, things have been weird since he blew me." It was a high school party and Chris' parents were out of town, so there were a ton of people and enough booze to keep a port full of sailors satisfied for a weekend furlough. Hank still managed to avoid Chris for most of the night until... well, until Chris found him. This experience was actually the reverse of Hank's later life experiences where he was mostly sober, but Chris was pretty well tanked. To Hank's horror, when Chris saw him he was not even remotely discreet. Hank blushed bright red in embarrassment and anger as the other teen touched his body, made various sexual comments, and tugged at his shirt to try and pull him away from his friends and to a dance. Thankfully, Hank's friends just laughed their asses off at the scene, interpreting Hank's embarrassment as coming from the fact that he was being hit on by a guy – not that he and Chris had fooled around two weeks ago. Ever the `nice guy,' Hank excused himself and pulled Chris away, telling his friends that he would find somebody to watch him since he was so fucked up. Once out of eyesight, Hank pulled him quickly into one of the home's bedrooms and angrily tried to talk some sense into him, hoping to make him see that he had to be more discreet. Chris, however, was too drunk and too horny to listen. Even as Hank complained to him, Chris became even more brazen than he was out in the open, touching the athlete's body and trying to pull him closer. Hank tried to put the brakes on Chris' advances, but as his anger began to subside it was replaced with that familiar feeling of nervous lust he had felt in the locker room. Trying to cool Chris down one more time, Hank tried to push him away slightly – which just ended up making him fall onto his back on the bed. Far from making Chris back off, though; it just convinced him that Hank wanted to fuck. As he lay there, he lifted his foot to rub the bigger teen's cock, which Hank suddenly realized was hard as a rock and bulging in his cargo shorts badly. Giving in to his lust again, he joined Chris in bed. This time was a much bigger deal to Hank, because it wasn't random experimentation like the first time. He fucked Chris that night and then again the next morning when they were both completely sober, though Chris was a little hung over. After that, the two teens became relatively good friends, though not terribly much in public. In sex, it was somewhat one sided. While Chris was more than eager to suck Hank's cock or let him fuck him, Hank tended to barely touch Chris beyond the occasional handjob. Hank maintained his girlfriends, not really feeling too much guilt at the time about his sexual dalliances with Chris. It was just one of those things that happen, he figured, and that he'd stop fooling around with him when he met a woman seriously. They did quit their sexual antics, but mostly out of practicality. Hank moved early in the summer to Austin to start training with the football team and Chris left to study at Baylor. As he was taking his trip down memory lane, the flight attendant came down the first class aisle and stopped by Hank, offering a quick, "We're going to be landing soon, Mr. Johnson. Could you put your tray table in the upright position, please?" He looked up, surprised to realize how deep in thought he'd been and nodded quickly, "Sure." As he lifted the tray table, he realized that his cock had grown partially hard as he remembered his sexual experiences with Chris. Sighing, he casually laid his newspaper on his lap. As he drifted back into his thoughts, he closed his eyes. For the next four years he didn't see Chris. It wasn't conscious on either of their parts Hank thought, just a growing apart that happens to a lot of high school friends. Hank stayed in Austin nearly year round to stay in football readiness, usually just coming back for holidays and special occasions – which didn't leave a lot of time for catching up with friends. But, of course, even without Chris, Hank's experiences didn't stop. There was his biology lab TA freshman year. His roommate's openly gay brother. One of the trainers during the Skins' training camp. Oh, and of course he couldn't get his most recent meeting with Chris a few months ago out of his head either. After those, though, it was the random hookups when he was drunk. Hank wasn't the type to ask, "What it all means," but the man the other morning had gotten him thinking one thing anyway. These weren't drunken mistakes or youthful indiscretions he could rationalize away in his head; it was becoming a pattern of behavior. He'd had numerous numbers of women give him their number, yet he'd gone home with the one good looking guy who'd hit on him. Hank sighed again, opening his eyes. It was going to be a long off season if he was dwelling on this shit. Regardless of what was going on in his head, though, he knew one person that he wanted to see. *** He'd been back in his home town for two days before he was able to break away from family well-wishers long enough to visit Chris' office downtown. Unlike the last time he'd visited a few months ago, it looked like a real office now. Hank stepped into the transformed space and just looked around before the receptionist asked, "Can I help you, sir?" She was smiling when he turned to look at her. She was pretty, but about ten years older than he and Chris – not really his type, whatever that was anymore. He returned her smile, slightly surprised that she didn't recognize him. Since he had been a star for UT he'd been a hero to the town, going pro just made it even more so. "Is Chris in?" The receptionist glanced down at her appointment book, "Um, he's with someone. Do you have an appointment?" "No, no. Nothing like that. Just a friend, I was going to say hello – maybe see if he wanted to grab lunch." She looked up, "Oh, sure. Well, just have a seat. He's with a client right now, he should be out in just a minute. I think he's going out to lunch with Eric, though." The familiarity she said the name with suggested that as a `friend,' Hank should probably know who that is. Truth was that save for a few texts after Hank had a good game or something like that, he and Chris didn't keep in close contact. They were Facebook friends, but that certainly wasn't the best way to know the details about someone. He just shook his head, "Eric?" "Yes..." she said, pausing slightly, her face now expressing worry – probably whether she should have said anything, "Chris' boyfriend. You said you were friends, I just assumed you knew Eric too... I'm sorry, Chris is usually so forthright, I hope I haven't said anything..." He interrupted her with a quick smile, though he felt a pang of unexpected jealousy jolt through his body, "its okay. I live out of town, that's part of why I was coming in to catch up." She sighed, reassured that she hadn't outed Chris to someone who didn't know. Just before they settled into uncomfortable silence, the door to Chris' office opened and his familiar face appeared alongside a middle-aged man. Chris was wearing a light blue fitted dress shirt and khakis, the kind of dress that passed for business dress in a small town. Hank felt another sense of unease, this time less about the jealousy, but because building off of the last time he'd seen him, he felt himself looking at Chris with a fair amount of attraction. Still talking to the other man, Hank could tell Chris saw him out of the corner of his eye because surprise filtered across his face before he began to smile. As the other man left, he approached Hank and pulled him into a quick hug, "Hank! I didn't know you were coming back to town so soon." "Neither did I," he answered, returning Chris' infectious smile, "but, here I am. I was going to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but she said you already had plans." He looked a little surprised, "Oh. Well..." he looked at his watch quickly, "His period doesn't go on lunch for another forty five minutes or so." He turned to his receptionist, "Do I have any other appointments before then?" She shook her head, "Not until the afternoon. In fact, I was going to meet my husband for lunch now, if that's okay." Chris nodded with a slight smile, "Sure. Enjoy your lunch." She started to pack up and Chris pulled Hank into his office, which was spacious and well decorated. He managed to hide the age of the building he was in very well. They both sat down and even with a boyfriend, Chris still couldn't resist looking him over, which made Hank chuckle slightly. Hearing his laugh, the smaller man smiled, "Sorry, I've always been too obvious with you. It's just nice to see you off the television." "You always watch the games?" "Yep. Even got that Sunday Ticket thing on the dish so I could catch your games. Can you believe it? I'm watching football every week... and not just for the guys." Hank smirked, "Just one guy, right?" That made Chris blush slightly, but he laughed, "Well... More or less. I doubt I'd have started watching at all if you weren't playing, but I'm starting to get into it. Eric likes football, so that's something for us to do together." "And does he know why you're a Redskins fan?" Chris shifted a little in his chair, "Are you asking if I told him about us? Hank..." He lowered his voice a little, despite the fact that they were alone, locking eyes with him, "You know I wouldn't do that to you." It was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, this time with a smile as he continued to look at Hank, "He does think I have a crush on you, though. Asked me once if I pined after you in high school." "What'd you say?" he asked, returning his friend's smile. His face changed a little, his smile shifting into a mischievous smirk, "Yes. He thinks you're good looking too, so he asked if I fantasized about you." Something was changing in the air between them, Hank could tell. His heart started to beat a little faster as he felt the familiar sexual tension start to rise between them as Chris spoke. Leaning back in his chair, trying to appear casual, he asked, "What'd you say to that?" "I told him yes. And then he wanted to know about it. I told him that I always dreamed about coming in to the locker room one afternoon when everybody was gone and finding you there. Have you come out of the shower, all of your muscles shining from the water with nothing but a towel wrapped around your waist." He leaned forward intently, the smirk still playing at the edges of his mouth, "I told him that I hoped we'd lock eyes and you'd see the lust in mine – just praying that you'd be horny enough to do something with it. In my dream, you'd stare back at me for a moment, making up your mind before sauntering over to me." Hank could feel himself getting hard in his jeans as Chris retold the story of their first encounter, "You remember every detail, don't you?" He nodded, "Mmhmm." He shifted in his seat, quite obviously adjusting his own cock in his khakis, "He does too. He just thinks it's a fantasy. You want to hear the rest?" Hank stood up and stepped closer to Chris, making the accountant look up at him, "Not really. I'd rather give you another fantasy to tell him about..." He reached down to pull Chris up from the chair. "Hank..." he started as he faced Hank, uncertainty in his voice. At the sound of his uncertainty, Hank leaned in and did something that he hadn't ever initiated before with Chris. He pressed his lips against Chris' and gently worked his tongue out and into his mouth. For his part, Chris only resisted for the barest of moments before he began to kiss his old friend back. Once his resistance faded, the passion that Hank remembered returned. He kissed Hank fiercely, pressing his tongue past the bigger man's and into his mouth, while his hands quickly untucked the polo shirt from the waistband of Hank's jeans. He broke the kiss for only a moment to tug Hank's polo up and over his head, leaving him shirtless. Chris kissed him again, his hands exploring his muscled torso once again – albeit far less nervously than he had those years ago. Hank was more active than he normally was too, finding himself getting swept up in the moment and the confused feelings he'd been debating for weeks. He not only let Chris make out with him, but eagerly swept his tongue against his friend's and held him tightly, running his hands across Chris' back. Chris pulled away from the kiss and slid down, pressing his lips against Hank's neck – leaving harsh red marks on his flesh close to where his neck met his shoulder. One of his hands dipped down and deftly unbuttoned his jeans, giving him enough room to slide his hand under the waistband of Hank's jeans and boxer briefs. Hank groaned in excitement as Chris' fingers first tangled themselves in the thick hair at the base of his cock, before finally wrapping around his solid length and pulling at it. As Chris slid lower down his body, he swabbed his tongue across one of the quarterback's pink nipples until it stiffened under his oral assault. "Oh, Chris... I've missed this..." he admitted with a smile as he ran his fingers through Chris' wavy blonde hair. He gently encouraged Chris over to his other sensitive nipple, letting him lap at it for a moment – each lick sending a wave of ticklish pleasure through his body. Unlike their last time together, where Chris indulged himself in a relaxing oral worship of Hank's entire body, he moved with a greater sense of urgency this time. After taking Hank's direction to tease his nipple, he dropped lower, kissing along his firm abs quickly, and then dropping to his knees. Hank leaned back against one of the chairs they'd been sitting in for balance, once Chris had stripped his jeans and briefs down to his ankles – leaving him almost completely naked in the accountant's office. His sizeable cock bobbed heavily out from its nest of dark blonde pubes once Chris freed it from its confines and, after that, wasted no time in taking his length into his mouth. Hank hissed in pleasure as Chris' warm mouth enveloped his hard cock, throwing his head back. Going immediately to work once Hank was in his mouth, Chris assaulted his friend's cock with rapid lashes of his tongue as he sunk down to the base of his crotch. Even as big as Hank was, it was no time at all before Chris had swallowed his length and buried his nose into the athlete's thick pubes. He inhaled Hank's masculine scent while his cock was lodged deep in his throat, before pulling back for the journey back towards his more sensitive cockhead. Hank groaned deeply, his hand still tangled up in Chris' hair as his cock was worshipped and massaged by Chris' lips, tongue, and throat. While Chris sucked him, Hank gently began to push his ass off of the chair he was leaning against and drive his length deeper into Chris, softly fucking his mouth. Chris didn't seem to mind for his part, letting Hank use his mouth – still working his tongue against the shaft and sucking sharply whenever Hank would nearly withdraw his cock from his mouth, earning pleasured groans from Hank's lips. They continued like this for several more minutes with Hank working his cock in and out of Chris' mouth, moaning and commenting softly. Pressing his hands against Hank's thrusting hips, Chris stopped him momentarily and pulled off of his dripping cock to push it up flat against Hank's pubes and stomach. He gave it one long lick, causing Hank to shudder, before dropping down to the quarterback's hairy balls. As he lapped against them, he wrapped his fist around Hank's cock and began to jerk him off. He sucked Hank's balls into his mouth one at a time, gently rolling them around in his mouth. Squirming slightly, Hank groaned, "I need to fuck you, Chris..." "I thought you'd never ask," he answered with a chuckle. He didn't fully disengage from Hank, still jerking off his hard, slick cock as he stood to kiss him again. They kissed briefly, but softer and less passionately this time – but Hank still responded eagerly, pushing Chris towards the couch in the office while they kissed. Chris broke the kiss and started undoing his buttoned down shirt while Hank sank down onto the couch and lay down. The accountant smiled as he took in Hank's body, lying on his couch, and quickly stripped off his shirt and grabbed some lube from his desk drawer. "You stay prepared, don't you?" Hank chuckled before it trailed off into a low groan as Chris began to work some of the lube onto his cock. Chris worked both hands over Hank's rod, leaving it glistening under the lights of his office. Hank reached his hands forward and undid Chris' belt and slacks, not wasting any time in pulling them down along with his underwear. The smaller man's cock bobbed out in front of him and Hank realized that he had been leaking precum for quite awhile, seeing as how his cock was already wet with his own fluids. On his own volition this time, without Chris begging him to, he leaned forward and took Chris' cockhead into his mouth, using his tongue to clean it of the precum that had collected on it. Chris moaned deeply and instinctively pressed his hips forward, pushing more of his hard length into Hank's mouth. Hank was by no means an expert cocksucker, but he did his best to take Chris deeper as he pushed in. He washed his tongue over the hard flesh now filling his mouth and used his hands to keep Chris from pushing any deeper. He didn't want to delay fucking his friend too much longer, but he was finding more and more that he enjoyed having this effect on Chris. His eyes were staring down at Hank, watching him suck at his cock, his mouth slightly ajar as he released ragged breaths along with his quiet moans. One of his still lubed fingers teased his own pink nipples and unlike Hank, who was mostly smooth on his chest, he had a small patch of blonde hair between his pecs. He willingly withdrew himself from Hank's mouth, smiling down at the bigger man, "Getting too close... I want to cum while you fuck me." Chuckling, Hank pulled him down onto the couch with him. Chris quickly positioned himself on his side, just like Hank. The quarterback hefted one of Chris' legs up and used his other hand to guide his lubed cock against Chris' asshole. While Chris winced in brief pain, Hank let out a low groan as his cock was once again engulfed. The angle was not great, but he managed to lodge most of his cock deep inside of his old friend, he responded with a gasp as Hank finally pressed against his prostate. Without another word from either of them, Hank began to fuck him in earnest. These weren't long, slow strokes like they had done at Chris' home last time – but quick, fevered thrusts from the start. Both of them were horribly worked up and, unlike the previous time, hadn't already gotten off once each. Hank grunted in pleasure as his cock sawed back and forth in Chris' ass and against his prostate, his copious amounts of precum joining the lube to make him glide easily inside of his friend. For his part, Chris didn't waste any time in wrapping his hand around his own cock, jerking himself off quickly as Hank pounded his prostate, making him cry out in pleasure. He worked his ass muscles around Hank, milking the bigger man as they both raced to get off in the short amount of time they had together. Their close proximity on the couch and combined body heat worked them both up further as Hank began to sweat almost immediately from the exertion. "Fuck Chris..." he growled in pleasure and began to kiss the back of his neck as he continued to fuck him. They could both hear Chris' phone begin to vibrate against the table as someone called or texted him – undoubtedly his boyfriend Eric making sure they were still on for lunch. Both of them, however, ignored it without a second thought as they rutted against each other on the couch. Hank's quick strikes inside of him, along with the feelings coming from his cock, left Chris' mind swimming in a sea of pleasure as he gasped repeatedly, but rarely saying anything coherent. As his hand raced over his sensitive cockhead one more time, he realized that he wasn't going to be able to hold off his orgasm much longer. "Hank..." he hissed as the bigger man continued to drill him, "So fucking close..." "Good..." he managed to groan out, but he was in the same boat. He was pounding Chris even quicker now, his cock barely pulling out at all as he rocked quickly back and forth, "Gonna cum too, man..." he continued. He had been holding off his orgasm for a few moments, but with each thrust he knew he was rapidly approaching the point of no return where he'd cum whether he wanted to or not. With an animalistic grunt, he released his resistance and let the pleasure of his orgasm wash over him, beginning to shoot a warm torrent of his semen deep into Chris. His grunts and groans trailed off into whimpers as Chris worked his ass around his cock, practically milking the cum from him. As Hank's orgasm subsided, Chris' began. He cried out in pleasure as thick ropes of his cum sprang from the angry red tip of his cock, splattering against his chest and then the couch. Hank leaned in and again began to kiss Chris' neck as the smaller man lay their panting, trying to catch his breath from his orgasm. Chris chuckled as Hank's lips fluttered across his sweaty neck, "There's something different about you now." Sighing quietly, Hank just answered, "Yeah, I know. Don't know what's up with me." Chris slowly extricated himself from Hank's strong arms and got up off the couch to find his shirt. As he began to put the shirt back on, he smiled down at Hank, "Hey, I'm not complaining. Guess, I'm going to have to cancel my lunch, though..." "Right. Sorry about that. Hope this doesn't mess up things with you two," Hank said, lying just a bit. He just shrugged with a slight smile still on his face, "It is what it is. I knew what I was doing. I like Eric, I do. It's just... different with you." He looked away as he flushed a slight red, before adding, "I need to run home and take a shower before my afternoon appointments. Do you... uh... want to come by tonight for dinner?" Hank nodded and started to collect his own clothes, "Sure, man. I'd love to." They made arrangements for Hank to swing by around 7 and even though nothing was said, Hank knew he'd be spending the night. He realized, without question, that their evening together, like this time, or like the last time weren't a series of drunken mistakes – he just wasn't sure what to do think about it anymore. He could get his rocks off with anybody, but here he was back with Chris once again. Something about it all just felt more right when he was with him.' Thanks for reading!