SACCHARINE SWEET ❁ d:bh x male reader oneshots

Spar [Hank Anderson]

|| Hank Anderson x Trans Male Reader

↳ The first request for Hank, I hope it's acceptable.

Summary || Invited to spar, Hank finds that he likes the sergeant more than he expected.

CWs: Top scars, ground fighting

SERGEANT L/N WAS a strong-willed man. Often, his hard-headedness leads to issues in the workplace. He never backed down from a challenge, no matter how stupid. Most people knew this about him.

Most people knew Hank Anderson for his choice of words. Hank made it known that he did not want to be buddies with anyone. He was standoffish and crude to those who approached. Thus, many avoided him.

Y/N had heard the rumors, but he didn't think Hank was as bad as everyone said he was. His rational thoughts told him that no one was completely closed off. That meant even the lieutenant.

The well-intentioned man found his way to Hank's desk. Hank looked up with a scowl, "The fuck you want."

Y/N's smile brightened at the words, "You've got quite the mouth, huh, lieutenant?" Hank's unwavering scowl remained. It didn't off put Y/N in the slightest; Hank's distaste only made him more confident.

"Get the fuck out of here." Hank's tone was one of loathing. Y/N's toothy grin fixed upon his face. Hank's demeanor wasn't going to change Y/N's mind about becoming friendly with the lieutenant.

"No thanks, I'll stick around a little longer." Y/N's teasing voice rang in Hank's ears. He could tell there was no scaring off the sergeant. No matter how hard Hank tried, within the thirty minutes, Y/N stuck around. He could not shake him off.

It had been a year since that incident, and Y/N's plan had worked. He had wormed his way into being Hank's friend. Some saw it as a waste of time, while others thought it was admirable. The lieutenant's and sergeant's friendship would be closer than expected.

"Hey, Hank, care to spar today? Hope those old man joints won't affect your performance." Y/N wasn't much younger than the lieutenant. He just liked teasing him for being 53.

"You're 49, Y/N. You'll be 50 and an old man like me too, shithead." Hank rolled his eyes, standing up from his terminal. Y/N chuckled, the wrinkles near his mouth creasing, showing his age, "but sure. I'll spar."

The two walked and chatted together in the sparring area. Both were already in grey t-shirts, ready to spar. Y/N let out a sigh, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Ground fighting?" Hank suggested. Y/N quickly nodded, lunging toward Hank and tackling him to the ground. The goal was to put the other person in a position where they could handcuff them.

Hank groaned from the surprise attack but wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist, attempting to pull him around. Y/N had already thought that through. He kept Hank pinned to the ground, where Hank couldn't flip him. The only issue now was to get the handcuffs on his wrists.

Hank was smart. He slid his legs under Y/N, thrusting him off of Hank. Y/N flew back before returning to his grasp. Hank's tactics didn't deter Y/N in the slightest. It only fueled his wanting to win.

In the end, Y/N won. Hank wasn't shocked at all, as he knew the outcome. Y/N had a more muscular build than Hank; it was inevitable how it would turn out.

"Good match," sweat glistened off of Y/N's face. The same went for Hank, "Yeah, good job."

They decided to head to the showers. After all, they were both drenched in sweat. They didn't want to stink up the office.

The showers were unnotable. There wasn't anything special about them. Y/N grabbed his usual clothing from his locker and set them on the bench.

Y/N pulled off his shirt, folding it neatly and putting it in his bag to bring home and wash. He did the same for the rest of his things. The showers were separated, so you didn't have to stare awkwardly at your co-workers.

The water started off freezing hold, causing Y/N to hiss and quickly back away. Y/N waited for the water to heat up before returning to his wash. The shower wasn't long, as Y/N didn't take his time. He just rinsed off the sweat and left.

He pulled up his briefs quickly before Hank came out. He stopped, very obviously staring at Y/N. Y/N rested against the lockers, a nervous look adorning his face.

"Sick scars, man." Hank laughed anxiously. His eyes looked elsewhere, embarrassed at how long he was staring.

"Thanks, the doctor made them himself." Y/N relaxed a bit. Rationally he knew Hank would be alright with it. However, there was always the fear that he would tell everyone in the office.

"Oh. OH." Hank clearly did not understand where the scars came from at first. His face flushed as he laughed at himself. Y/N started to cackle, too, at the ridiculousness of it all.

When Hank looked up, his face was still beet red. Y/N's snickering tailored off, and the locker room was quiet again. Hank's redness didn't fade as Y/N thought it would.

"Why so red, Hank?" Y/N teased. Y/N was trans, and it mortified Hank that he never knew. At least, that was the logical reason Y/N came up with in his head.

He didn't expect Hank to start pouring out the feelings he had been hiding for Y/N all this time. That was the least probable cause in Y/N's head. But at the same time, he was relieved.

"Hank, settle down. I like you too, okay?" Hank had crumpled to the ground. Y/N crouched down as he spoke and placed his hand on Hank's shoulder. Hank looked up, his eyes full of shock and fear. What happened next? Where would it lead?

"Are you being serious, or are you just fucking with me?" A defeated expression was laden on his face. Y/N lips curled up into a grin, "I promise I'm serious, fuckface."

Hank tackled Y/N into a hug, causing the air to press out of Y/N's lungs. A strained cough left Y/N. Hank quickly retracted his hug.

"Oh fuck! Sorry, sorry." Hank laughed, a genuine smile on his face. Y/N was still lying on the ground, trying to catch his breath, "It's fine, I'm fine, I promise."

|| Word Count: 1,055