Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Semper Fidelis

"Connor..." You pet his cheek, "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

"You say that, but...Look what almost happened.  If I...If I let you...If I-"

"You didn't." His brows jumped as you took his hands in your own, "You didn't do anything wrong, and she's gone now."

"I...I hope." He frowned, "I don't know where she went..."

You lifted his face with a kiss, your nose brushing against his.  It was a tender, loving kiss – one that had both of you take sharp inhales and hold it there – letting each other's soul, or whatever he had, seep into each other.

And you did – you let yourself steep in his overwhelming presence in the rolling, boiling water over your heart.  You couldn't get enough of him, even through the steam.  You just let him consume you and do whatever he pleased because you trusted him.

"May I ask you a question?" His voice was barely over a whisper as he pulled away, leaving you grateful for even the shallowest of breaths because you thought you'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Anything..."

A small, delicate smile lifted the corner of his mouth; the bottom of his eyelids...and he gazed into you like there was nothing else on the planet.

"Do humans have sexual urges based on anything other than reproduction or recreational fulfilment?"

You snorted.  Coughed.  Tried to choke down the laugh.  Chris would've been proud.

"I'm just trying to understand." His brows creased, annoyed by your laughing.

You should've known he'd see through your cover-up.  Wondered how many others he'd pretended to go along with; from you or Chris.

You swallowed hard, playing with a loose thread on his shirt, "When two people...love, each other...and want to be closer...sex can do that, sometimes."

You felt the last wall break down and crumble into the sea and were terrified by the surge.  You couldn't get hurt again.  You wouldn't make it.  You couldn't let yourself be-

"But I thought you said it was too early for me to love you?"

"I say a lot of things I don't mean." You sniffed, the anxiety and tears pooling over your lashes and staining your cheeks, "I say them because I'm scared of getting hurt.  Because everyone who gets close to me ends up getting hurt.  Because I'm angry at the person I've become."

He held your chin, his brows arched over a frown.  He cupped your jaw, thumbs wiping away your tears as he kissed you between your brows.

"I will never intentionally hurt you, and I am prone to getting hurt on my own, according to Lieutenant Anderson." He smiled, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, "And I love the person you've become."

"You can't just say that to someone if you're not sure you mean it, Connor."

"I've spent the last eight hours reading hundreds of thousands of articles, forums, and psychological studies based on the concept of 'love.'  It is an intense feeling of deep affection." His lips shuddered as he looked over your face, "It is unconditional, and has no limits.  It is giving someone the power to destroy you, and trusting them not to.  It is an attraction that includes sexual desire, but also a bond between minds and...souls."

You were a sobbing mess, and he didn't care.  He just kept stabbing at your heart with words you never thought you'd hear someone say again.  This was so much more coming from someone who'd been blinded since he was born...there was something more pure.

"And I do not believe I have a soul, but...I do...feel, all of these things for you...and I don't think I'll ever be able to stop."

"I won't be around forever, Connor." You frowned, "I don't get to live forever."

It hurt him.  It was a hard truth he needed to face, but it hurt him.

"I know.  And I'll be there every step of the way...right up until...right up until the end.  I promise."  He pulled his jacket tighter over your shoulders, pulling the collar under your chin before caressing your face, "And...I seem to have developed a strange fascination for you wearing my clothing."

You sniffed hard, a smile and a laugh breaking through the sobbing.  It seemed to lighten his mood, too – like just seeing you happy was all that mattered.

"Does that mean you'll push me around in a wheelchair when I'm 80?"

"Of course." He grinned, "And it'll be the best damn wheelchair in Detroit."

You swung your arms around his neck, pulling him close; melting when he caught you in his lap.  He buried his face in your hair, hugging you so fucking tight-

"I love you," He whispered your name, kissing the side of your head, "Irrationally and unconditionally."

You built up the courage to say it.  Faced the weakest part of you and rebuilt it until it served as a platform for the words you wanted him to hear.

"I love you, too."

If anyone had told you this would be where the two of you would end up, you'd have found it humorous...because it seemed like just barely enough time had passed for those old, tragic wounds to heal.

So, you smiled.

And maybe, just maybe...you could learn to laugh again.

"...I think."