The Martian AU verse (After Mars)

Nightmares

This one began as they often did, with Connor shifting restlessly under the covers, sometimes mumbling, sometimes whimpering, and sometimes – too many times – crying.

The tears were silent, but they carved through Hank’s heart as easily as they carved tracks along Connor’s skin. When the nightmares came and he lifted Connor from the sheets and held him tight, Hank was holding himself together as well.

In the suspended moments before Connor woke to Hank’s low crooning and fingers combing through his hair, Hank leaned their weight back against the wall, grateful again that their two mattresses were no longer separated by the barriers of physical walls and NASA’s disapproval.

He wanted to, needed to be there for Connor whenever his memories dragged him back to that forsaken surface of Mars. By design, each crewmember was allotted their own quarters for the express purpose of bodily rest and mental rejuvenation.

They were months from home and sustained by a machine built and operated by fallible beings; a single distraction could spell immeasurable disaster. But Connor in pain was a more serious distraction for Hank than any pleasure he might bring.

So Hank had made room in his quarters, and Connor’s mattress had slid into place as firmly as he had slid into Hank’s heart.

Hank ran his free hand down Connor’s flank, relieved that he felt fewer of Connor’s ribs, that his body was slowly filling out into the healthy leanness

that had so captivated Hank before Mars. He was pleased, too, at the healing of the myriad wounds and sores that had littered Connor’s malnourished skin in the days after Mars. But Hank also knew that some wounds heal more quickly than others.

“Hank?” Connor blinked open bleary eyes and shivered, though in response to his nightmare or the caressing of his side, Hank couldn’t tell.

“I’m here, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. You’re not alone.” Hank punctuated each reassurance with a kiss to Connor’s forehead,

his temple, to his hair. “You wanna talk about it?” he murmured, because he knew what it was like to have nightmares alone, with nowhere to put the burden, with no one to help carry the weight. And sometimes Connor wanted to talk.

But this time Connor just swiped at his damp

cheeks and shook his head. “No, not really. But it was one of the bad ones.” His fingers wrapped around Hank’s forearm and held. “You were killed attempting my retrieval. I was left alone in the MAV, waiting to burn up in a decaying orbit and knowing that you died because of me.”

Hank was aware that for Connor, the worst of his nightmares involved a death other than his own. Again, Hank knew what that felt like, knew that the horror of loss was a far greater torment than the fear of one’s own death.

“I could have died, should have died, so many times down there,” Connor said, tilting his head up to search Hank’s eyes. “But I’d choose to be there still if it meant keeping you safe, Hank.”

Hank looked into the fathomless brown eyes he’d been falling into for as long as

he could remember. “You were worth the risk, love. Don’t ever forget that.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed the tip of Connor’s nose. “And think how badly I would have slept without you. I told you I get cold when you’re not here with me. These bones are getting old, remember?

You said so yourself once,” Hank teased with a grin, hoping to divert Connor from his melancholy thoughts.

Connor scoffed. “I did not such thing. I merely said that people of your…generation aren’t always up to date with the latest technologies.”

“You called me an old guy, Connor,” Hank reminded, gliding the hand that had been in Connor’s hair down his neck, over his chest, to his waist, along his hip, and across the top of his thigh. Connor shivered again, and this time Hank knew why.

Connor let go of Hank’s forearm and tucked his hand under Hank’s T-shirt with a smile. “Maybe I misspoke. You’re not old, you’re seasoned.” He grabbed a handful of Hank’s belly and squeezed. “And ripe. Just the way I like it.”

Hank sputtered and pinched Connor’s waist. “I’m not a tomato, you menace. Don’t squeeze the goods unless you plan on buying.”

“Does that mean you’re selling?” Connor asked, and with an agility and grace Hank could only envy, he swiftly maneuvered himself over Hank’s lap.

Placing a hand on each thigh straddling his hips, Hank tilted his head and nipped at Connor’s lower lip. “Maybe. What’ll you give me in exchange?”

Connor leaned back, suddenly a little serious. “How about just me? I’m a smartass who often can’t sleep through the night

and can’t stand more than five minutes alone. Is that a deal you’d be interested in?”

Hank knew Connor was fragile inside, maybe even a bit broken; he needed reassurance that their current happiness was not a transitory thing of dreams.

He slid his hands to Connor’s hips and tugged. “Oh, I’m interested, alright, as long as you are. So come here.”

The kiss they shared was soft and warm and a little naughty. When Connor began to squirm in his lap, Hank pulled back, needing to say something very important first.

“I love you, Connor. You understand what that means, don’t you? I loved you before Mars, and I’ll love you after. Your trauma doesn’t define you. Believe me, I know. We’ll get past this together. As long as you want me, I’m here.”

Connor’s answering smile was watery, and his eyes were wet, but he glowed with an inner light that knit the seams of Hank’s mending heart. “I want you, Hank. Before and after and from now on.”

Then Connor sighed and bit the corner of his lower lip. “But especially now.”

He dropped his eyes to Hank’s lap and rolled his hips down. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he looked up with a smirk. “Houston, we have a problem.”

Hank lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. “Better set that brilliant mind of yours to fixing it then, champ.

You *are* an engineer, after all.”

The beautiful man in his lap grinned predatorily, and Hank felt a flush bloom across his chest. With a peck to Hank’s lips and a quick “Love you,” Connor shifted backward, dipped low, and began to work the problem.