SUMMARY: Hank is the first and only person to have given Connor friendly affection. After they share a hug at the Chicken Feed, Connor realizes he really enjoys affection from Hank, and Hank attempts to convince himself that the lingering touches are his imagination.
WORD COUNT: 3820
It started with a hug. A harmless, completely platonic hug. And though Connor knew there was nothing else behind it, something about the way Hank held him was... different. It sent sparks down his mechanical spine; the feeling reminded him of the one he had experienced when Hank pinned him to the wall. It was when Connor had arrived at the precinct for the first time, and Hank had given him a fond welcome by yelling in his face, breath smelling of the coffee he'd been drinking that morning.
At the time, Connor blamed the abnormal reaction on an error in his software due to Hank putting him in danger. He figured that it was safest not to question it too much, might he find something that would result in him being compromised; his software instability warnings had been quite worrying on their own. But it occurred any time Hank touched him, and it was getting to be quite a hindrance.
Connor also found it vastly inappropriate that when they were at the Eden Club, looking at a dead body, he had to disable his sexual functions when Hank put his hand on the nape of his neck as a friendly gesture. Hank hardly paid any mind to the repressed noises Connor occasionally made at his touch, and for that Connor was grateful.
At least, it had been like that until they had shared that embrace. Connor had let out a deep groan of relief as he found sanctuary in Hank's arms. Hank tensed at the sound, and Connor felt his face warm up despite the bite of the cold. When Connor buried his face in Hank's shoulder with a small upturn of his lips, Hank couldn't do much else other than forget about the strange occurance and sink into the embrace. All the tension and dread and worries they had collectively felt in the past few days melted away, and for once Connor did not feel a pit in his stomach when he saw a software instability warning. To him, it only meant he was alive.
It was that day Hank realized Connor had nowhere to go; he'd been staying overnight at the precinct up until the city had begun to evacuate. Hank insisted that he deserved better than some charging station at the police department and offered up his couch, which Connor accepted gladly. It almost unnerved him how fast he accepted Hank's proposal, giving it little thought. He was supposed to make all of his decisions based solely upon logic, but he found that it felt good to make decisions without thinking too hard about it.
All of that led him to where he was now. Which was on Hank's couch after shuddering when Hank raked his fingers through his hair. Hank had frozen up, seeming quite disturbed by Connor's reaction. Connor scrambled for an excuse.
"I have extremely sensitive sensors on my scalp. I apologize if my reaction disturbed you, Hank," Connor told him, and it wasn't a complete lie; he did have very sensitive sensors. It just wasn't the entire truth. Connor didn't fully understand the entire truth himself. All he knew is that any time Hank touched him, his body would react in a way that he couldn't quite control. At first, he thought it was an error with his sensitivity, but he realized after he received a short hug from Markus at New Jericho that it only occurred under Hank's touch. The sound of Hank's voice brought him back to reality.
"It's fine, Connor, just... loosen up a bit," Hank said, and Connor tilted his head, a puppy-like reaction he had adopted from god-knows-where.
"Loosen up? Like how?" Connor inquired, peering at him curiously. Hank chuckled at his question, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Connor moved his eyes from Hank's face to his hand, and he made an involuntary squeak when his mouth filled with analysis fluid. It was a reflex he had little control over, and it was comparable to how humans drool. Hank gave him a look as he swallowed thickly.
"I don't know, Con... There really isn't a way to relax, that's kinda the whole point," Hank explained, and Connor found that it wasn't very helpful. "Look, just..." Hank had grabbed him, and he suddenly dedicated all of his processing power to not give any sort of reaction when Hank brought him closer. Connor found his body losing it's tension when Hank nestled him into his side and ran his calloused fingers through his hair.
"Oh," Connor breathed, and it was dangerously close to a moan, his voice low and breathy.
"There you go, Connor," Hank praised, and Connor's processors made a foreign trilling sound, something so starkly inhuman that Connor tensed once more. Knowing Hank's history with androids, he found himself to be extremely self-conscious when it came to any parts of him that were... less than human. Hank seemed relatively unphased, although he did look at him with a curious expression.
"What was that ?" Hank asked. Connor shifted slightly, a very human action that he had adopted and now did when embarrassed or uncomfortable.
"I... don't know, Hank. I did not mean to do that, I apologize." Connor mumbled, shifting again. Hank laughed and wrapped his arm around Connor tighter in reassurance.
"Connor, it's fine, it was cute," Before he could stop it, the words were out of his mouth, and both of them tensed up. Connor looked up at him, puppy eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.
"Really...?" He whispered, and Hank swore he could see blue in his cheeks.
"Shit, I mean, yeah," Hank couldn't maintain eye contact, and Connor smiled to himself as he put his head against Hank's chest.
"Thank you," Connor said quietly, and it wasn't just for the compliment, but for everything. He hoped that Hank understood.
"It's nothin', Connor." Hank brushed him off, hands making it to his hair once more. Connor sighed deeply, leaning into Hank's hand, and Hank found himself yet again comparing Connor to a puppy.
"You really like it that much?" Hank asked, sounding strangely breathless. Connor pushed into his hand, and if that wasn't enough of an answer, he made a deep humming sound. Hank hadn't noticed until just then just how close Connor was, resting against his chest as his head met Hank's rough hands- when did the second one get there?- in his hair. The android had practically crawled into his lap. Hank did notice though, that Connor seemed to be getting a lot out of this. Hank's left hand went from his hair to the nape of his neck, and Connor gasped quietly. Hank watched him intently.
"What's there?" Hank asked, his voice low. Connor made eye contact and his eyes were darker than Hank remembered them being.
"There's... ahem... A port under my synthetic skin." Connor said, maintaining eye contact. "It's very sensitive." Hank raised his eyebrows and dragged his fingers lightly across the nape of Connor's neck experimentally. Connor shivered, his fingers clenching into the decorative pillow on the couch. Hank dared to make eye contact with Connor again, and the burning intensity of Connor's gaze was something he hadn't prepared for. Before he could think about it too long, Connor ungracefully clambered onto his lap, long limbs wrapping around Hank's large frame until he straddled the police lieutenant.
"Connor..." Hank said quietly as a warning. Connor used his lithe hands to lift Hank's face to his. The android only just then realized what it was he'd been wanting this whole time; the reason his body would react on its own from a simple touch.
"Please, Hank," Connor whispered, puppy eyes darkened and staring into Hank's, and Hank realized just then he was fucked from the start.
"You don't want this," Hank said, not able to meet Connor's gaze. Connor knew he meant it to be self-deprecating, and the words made his chest tighten in a way he didn't think was possible.
"Do you not trust me to make my own decisions, Hank?" Connor strained, and the longer Hank avoided his eyes, the more he worried that maybe Hank didn't want this; maybe he had been miscalculating after all. Connor desperately gauged Hank for a reaction, but Hank kept his expression doubtful.
"Shit, Connor, I do, it's just... I've got baggage if anyone does, and I'm... shit, I'm old," Hank said, seemingly as an attempt to change Connor's mind, but his protests were fruitless. After all, something that never changed in Connor is that he always accomplished his mission.
"Hank?" Connor's voice rang out quietly, and Hank met his gaze. The intensity of it yet again overwhelmed him, but he didn't look away. "I don't fucking care."
And that was Hank's breaking point. Hank's chapped lips met Connor's and Connor swore he saw white as he shut his eyes and tangled his hands in Hank's hair, feeling his thirium pump stutter as his sensors gathered information and cluttered his HUD. Hank wrapped his arms around Connor's waist, and Connor loved the size of his hands on his hips. As much as Hank appreciated his enthusiasm though, he gripped Connor tighter for a moment, a non-verbal way to tell him to slow down. Connor, for once, got the idea and let Hank take the lead, learning the way his lips moved and mirroring. Connor was one fucking fast learner.
However, Connor remembered too late that he had little to no control over his sexual functions and had no time to turn them off before his half-hard cock pressed against Hank's stomach. Hank pulled back, and Connor searched his face for disgust but was relieved to find none.
"Bedroom?" Hank asked, awkwardly glancing at the dog who lay on the floor by the fireplace. Connor agreed with a stiff nod and climbed out of Hank's lap so the both of them could stand up. Hank took Connor's hand and led him to the bedroom, at which Connor made another trilling sound. Hank squeezed his hand tighter and they both made it to the bed. "I know I already asked but, are you sure, Connor?" Hank asked, and if Connor wasn't in a similar state, he would have found it amusing with the way his cock strained against his threadbare sweatpants.
"Yes, Hank, now take your fucking clothes off, won't you?" Connor said with a hint of desperation as he pulled his own clothing off, Detroit Police Department hoodie discarded on the floor. Hank scoffed and followed suit.
"Who the fuck taught you how to talk like that?" He asked, but Connor knew it was a rhetorical question and Hank had barely gotten his sweatpants off before Connor dragged him into the bed with him.
"Fuckin' android strength," Hank grumbled, but it was hardly a complaint when he took in the sight of said android, now only in Hank's boxers. Hank was too dizzy with arousal to question when the fuck he took those. Connor used said android strength to crash their lips together, and Hank groaned when Connor's knee met his groin, repressing the urge to rut against him like a horny teenager.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Connor breathed, and it made Hank's cock twitch with interest in his boxers.
"Oh yeah? Used your fuckin pre-construction for this?" Hank said, and though he wasn't exactly refreshed on his dirty talk, it seemed to do the trick for Connor, who made the same trilling sound. Hank could swear he heard fucking fans going in the android's chest.
"Yes!" Connor confessed breathlessly, and Hank hadn't expected him to actually have done it, but the idea of Connor imagining the two of them and- fuck- did the android jerk off? Hank didn't have much of an opportunity to think about it because Connor was kissing him again, his soft hands roaming anywhere they could, and he pulled at Hank's shirt insistently. Hank pushed him back lightly, hands on his shoulders.
"Do you really want to see that, Connor?" Hank mumbled, not looking at him in his eyes. Connor glared at him pointedly, and Hank flinched slightly when he met his harsh gaze.
"Hank, I have been waiting for this for as long as I can remember. Please, Hank," Connor whispered, gripping the hem of Hank's shirt tightly.
"I mean okay, but don't get your hopes up," Hank gave in with a sigh as Connor eagerly pulled Hank's shirt over his head. Connor exhaled quietly and looked at Hank with his eyes sparkling. As much as Hank didn't want to believe it- or maybe he did, and that scared him- he knew better than to think Connor was faking. It did wonders for his confidence when Connor spoke again.
"You're beautiful, Hank," Connor strained, meeting Hank's eyes. Hank felt his face heat up and he looked away, flustered.
"Beautiful, huh? That's a new one," Hank chuckled, playing it off.
"I mean it," Connor said it sternly, and Hank swallowed.
"Well uh... Shit, thank you, then," Hank said; he'd never been amazing at taking compliments, and especially not ones like that.
"You're welcome," Connor said somewhat robotically, and if not for the look in Connor's eyes, Hank wouldn't have even known he was a deviant. Connor felt hot to the touch, and Hank looked him up and down slowly.
"What do you need, Con?" Hank asked in a low growl. Connor's words were garbled with static when he attempted to speak, and he covered his mouth, blushing a charming shade of blue. His LED blinked yellow and he opened his mouth to talk again.
"Want you to..." Connor looked away from Hank, directing his eyes at the floor instead. "Fuck me and... touch me."
"Touch you where sweetheart?" Hank said, and he hardly noticed the term of endearment slip out. Connor seemed to enjoy it, or at least Hank assumed so from the whirring in his chest getting louder. Connor met Hank's eyes and grabbed both of his hands. One went to his erection, pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Connor led Hank's other hand to the nape of his neck. Hank remembered the port he'd found by accident earlier. Connor let go of Hank's hands, and Hank palmed Connor's cock whilst tracing a finger against where he remembered the port being.
"GAH!" Connor cried out, and his body jerked. Hank immediately tensed, worrying he'd done something wrong.
"Woah- hey, Connor, are you alright? Is it too much?"
"Mm..." Connor could hardly manage words for a moment, and Hank felt a surge of pride that he'd made a state-of-the-art prototype lose its ability to speak. "Really good, but..." Before Hank could question what it was Connor wanted, Connor gripped his cock through the fabric of his brief, and Hank made an embarrassing sound.
"You want me to fuck you?" Hank asked, bouncing back fast from his embarrassing moan.
"Please," Connor said breathlessly, pushing down Hank's boxers before Hank could even move his hands to do so. His hands were still where Connor had put them, and Hank went to kiss Connor, a quick peck as they managed to maneuver themselves out of their boxers. Hank looked Connor up and down hungrily and pressed a finger to Connor's hole. He was shocked to feel wetness at his fingertip. Connor could see his visible confusion and decided to clarify.
"I have a self-lubricating feature... It activated on its own," Connor informed him, and his tone definitely didn't quite match up with his words, but it was arousing none-the-less.
"Holy fucking shit, Connor," Hank said breathlessly. He pressed the digit into Connor, whose legs trembled in response. Hank wrapped his other hand around Connor's cock, which could only be described as pretty. It was completely hairless, but Hank could spot a freckle at the base, the rest of Connor's body, which had freckles scattered down his pale, long legs. It suited Connor. "So fuckin' pretty..."
"Mmn!" Connor moaned quietly and Hank felt Connor's dick twitch in his hand at the praise. Hank pressed a second finger into Connor as the android panted, though unnecessary for him to even breathe.
"Hank, this isn't needed," Connor said impatiently, but his body contradicted him. He was rocking into Hank's hand, although visibly trying not to.
"Oh, I know, Connor," Hank said darkly. "I just love watching you fall apart for me."
"Fucking please," Connor moaned when Hank added a third finger, watching in awe as Connor took him without a challenge. It was definitely some food for thought. Hank couldn't even keep teasing the poor android if he wanted to, and he took both of his hands off of Connor. Connor's hips jerked, seeking more friction, but he wasn't left untouched for long as Hank pushed into him.
"Fuuuuck," Hank said in a drawn-out growl as Connor took him in with no problem. Connor looked up at him through hooded eyes.
"It's not often anyone can take you like this, is it, Lieutenant ?" Connor asked with a sultry tone, though Hank knew it was a rhetorical question.
"Good boy," Hank praised, and as he expected, Connor preened, that same strange trilling sound coming from him as his LED pulsed a vibrant blue.
"Hank, please move, and..." The blue on Connor's face darkened. "Touch me."
Hank couldn't deny Connor any of that, with the way the android's darkened eyes were sparkling in desperation when they met Hank's. He began to move his hips, resisting the temptation to fuck him as fast as he wanted to. Connor watched where they were connected, and Hank had only then remembered his second request. He leaned down to kiss Connor, silencing the quiet moans that left the android. Connor eagerly kissed back, hands coming up to wrap around Hank's neck as Hank sped up his pace. Hank pulled back from the kiss and brought one hand to Connor's cock, which already was leaking pre-cum. He matched up the pace of his hand with that of his thrusts, and Connor let out a low moan. Hank put his other hand on the nape of Connor's neck and watched as Connor's synthskin peeled back where it touched.
"So fucking amazing, Connor," Hank told him, kissing the side of his mouth as his fingers traced the newly exposed port on his neck.
"Put your fingers... inside," Connor requested and Hank could hear his voice trembling. His artificial breath hitched as Hank's fingers traced the overly-sensitive port. Hank, curiously, put his fingers inside and felt wires under his fingertips. Connor let out a staticky moan and his body jerked violently.
"Shit, Connor," Hank whispered. "I don' wanna hurt you."
"You won't," Connor insisted. "I promise, Hank."
"Okay..." Hank said, and his fingers brushed past wires as he resumed his pace with both his hand and his thrusts. Connor's reaction cleared away any complaints Hank could have come up with, one hand over his mouth trying to suppress the sounds he was making and the other gripping Hank's bedsheets. His synthskin was peeling back in splotches all over his freckle-covered body. Connor kept tensing around Hank's length, and Hank knew he wasn't gonna last when Connor made eye contact with him. The android's pupils were blown wide and his LED was flashing blue, yellow, and red like a light show.
"Connor, fuck, I'm not gonna last like this," Hank warned him in a growl and watched Connor spasm as he brushed past wires with his fingers.
"Good," Connor breathed and captured him in a kiss, messy and heavy. Whatever pattern was established was absolutely lost when Connor tightened around him after he tweaked a wire, and Hank came with a shout of Connor's name. Connor followed him and came into his hand, his head collapsing on Hank's shoulder. Hank pulled out of Connor and watched as his body jerked and then went still. Concerningly still.
Hank pulled Connor, who was practically deadweight, off of his shoulder and was horrified to see his face had gone entirely slack. The only thing that gave Hank some semblance of comfort was the pulsing yellow of his LED that showed Hank that Connor was alive. Suddenly, his LED flashed back to blue and his eyes shot open, and Hank felt immediate relief.
"Are you... supposed to do that when you cum?" Hank asked, and he looked down at the liquid on his fingers.
"No, I don't think so..." Connor's LED pulsed yellow for a moment. "As I get used to it, it shouldn't happen as often." Hank raised his eyebrows.
"Used to it, huh?" Hank laughed. Connor shot him a warning look and Hank put his hands up in mock defense. It was then that he noticed the android's cum still on his fingers. Connor was staring at his hand, and he could tell by the look in Connor's eyes that he was scanning the liquid. Before Hank could even register what was happening, Connor took his wrist and put Hank's fingers into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits, licking them clean, all while holding Hank's gaze.
"Connor, you fucking-" Hank cut off and covered his flushed face with his free hand, eyeing Connor through a gap in his fingers as the android took his mouth off of Hank's fingers with a pop. The android licked his lips. It was quite a sight to behold, and if not for the refractory period of a fifty-three-year-old man, Hank would most likely be sporting an erection for the second time that night. Hank brought his other hand to Connor's face and, despite what he just witnessed, kissed Connor. It was nothing like the ones they'd hitherto shared. It was sweet and slow, and they both had equally dopey smiles on their faces when they pulled apart.
"Fuckin' androids..." Hank said, and he was sure Connor could detect the fondness in his voice. He got up to grab the tissues from his dresser and got the two of them cleaned up, and neither of them bothered to get back into clothes. Connor, who was lying comfortably on the bed, pulled Hank towards himself with a mischievous upturn of his lips, and Hank ungracefully fell into bed next to him. He relaxed as Connor's pretty hands made their way into his hair, combing through it gently and scratching at his scalp. Hank hummed his approval, leaning into Connor's hands shamelessly.
They stayed like that, Hank curled up, back to Connor's chest, until Hank fell asleep. Connor smiled and kissed the top of his head, pulling the covers over them and entering stasis.