Connor|RK900xReader One Shots

Better in Practice

You've been crushing on RK900 ever since he became your partner. Until today, though, you never thought he might be interested in you as well.

2400 words

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"MOTHERFUCKER!"

Your voice sounds through the office, making everyone turn their heads.

You clear your throat, slightly embarrassed by your outburst.

"Sorry." You mumble and lower your gaze back to the gun on your desk you were cleaning. You were unfocused and pinched some skin of your hand between the barrel and the sight. You inhale sharply to not curse more and suck on the skin to stop the burning sensation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the reason for your scrambled thoughts approach: RK900.

"Detective, are you injured?" He inquires with his casual, modulated voice.

Reluctantly, you look up at him. His stupid bright eyes and his stupid pretty face and his stupid impeccable uniform-

"Yeah."

He holds his hand out: "Show me."

Oh no.

"Okay." You raise your arm, and he gently grabs your wrist. You flinch.

"Did I hurt you?" His eyes flick up.

If only that were the reason.

"It's fine." You give him a smile. His gaze lingers on your face a moment longer before he inspects the cut in your skin.

"I'll get you disinfectant and a bandage."

"It's really not that bad."

"I would not risk for it to get infected. How are you supposed to protect me in the field when you cannot hold a gun?"

He grins.

You mouth falls open: "Did you just make a joke?!"

RK900 gives you a wink and walks with long strides across the bullpen to get the supplies.

You watch him, incapable of forming a coherent thought.

Did he just flirt with you? No way that that was his intention. Not only did he manage to make a joke but then he followed it up with a goddamn cheeky grin and a wink. Which instantly flustered you. Which he surely is aware of.

You glance at the dismantled gun. Even though the magazine is empty, you're so nervous now that you're sure you'll manage to shoot yourself with it anyway.

"Here we go." RK900 says while he crouches next to you.

Very suddenly, he is very close. Close enough that you can smell him. It's a unique scent, that you would compare to leather and wax. And maybe a hint of cedar. You wonder what's his body, what his clothes, and what his perfume (is he wearing any?).

Now that he's not towering over you, you can make out more details of his face than usually. Your eyes wander over the light on the side of his head, to his perfectly styled hair, to his neck and its artificially bouncing artery, and then finally to his eyes.

They observe you curiously.

You blink and hold your hand out, not sure how long you stared at him.

RK900 offers you a small smile and then warns you: "This will sting."

You give him a nod and hold your breath while he sprays the cut with antiseptic.

"That bad?" He asks.