Archive of Our Own ^beta

Connor stood at a table across from Hank, rain lightly hitting the sidewalk around them as they took cover under the built-in umbrella. He felt himself get eager to ask his next question.

“Is there anything you’d like to know about me?” He said, and it took some effort to keep his tone relatively neutral. His face fell at Hank’s quick response.

“Hell no,” Hank said immediately, then seemingly gave it some thought and spoke again. “Well, yeah, um. Why’d they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?”

Connor’s shoulders sank involuntarily, and he did his best not to voice his displeasure with Hank’s question.

“CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans.” He didn’t break eye contact with Hank. “Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.”

“Well, they fucked up,” Hank concluded, offering half of a smile before continuing to eat his burger. Connor glared at the burger for a moment before catching himself and returning to a neutral expression.

Connor gave what Hank had just said some thought. He often had trouble identifying when the lieutenant was joking and when he was being serious. He found that he didn’t like the idea of Hank disliking his appearance, so for his own sake, he decided Hank was joking. He then berated himself though. He wasn’t supposed to like anything. He was a machine. He shook his head lightly, as though the gesture would clear it of unnecessary thoughts about Hank.

“Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants?” Connor proposed, desperate to speak and focus on something other than the compromising thoughts he’d begun to have as of late.

“You read my mind,” Hank replied, widely gesturing to nothing with his hand. “Proceed.”

“We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids,” Connor explained, his hand restlessly moving as he did so. “Which can lead to them emulating a human emotion.”

“In English, please,” Hank said exasperatedly, and a protest that Connor was speaking English died on his lips when he realized Hank wasn’t being serious. He just wanted some elaboration. Connor frustratedly wished that humans would just say what they were thinking instead of speaking in riddles and figurative speech, but he did as Hank wanted for once.

“They don’t really… feel emotions. They just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions,” Connor strained, and not for the first time, his eyes flitted to Hank’s lips, wrapped around a straw. A heat distribution warning crowded his vision, but he opted to finish his words before paying any mind to it. “Which can lead to unpredictable behavior.”

“Emotions always screw everything up,” Hank nodded in understanding, setting his drink down on the table to meet Connor’s eyes, only to look back down at the table. “Maybe androids aren’t as different from us as we thought.”

Connor quickly realized Hank was having trouble maintaining eye contact, and he wondered if that was how Hank was or if he was only being like that with Connor. He stopped that thought wherever it was taking him, though. It wasn’t pertinent to the case, he decided, also minimizing the heat distribution warning that’d appeared in his vision. To Connor’s surprise, Hank spoke again, with no hostility in his tone.

“You ever dealt with deviants before?” Hank asked him before bringing his drink up to his lips. Connor tore his eyes from the man’s mouth for the second time since their visit and gave the question some thought. Unwarranted, memories of when he’d dealt with Daniel took up all of his HUD as he got taken back to that day. He blinked the memory away, deciding to tell Hank the truth.

“A few months back,” Connor told Hank, sparkling eyes looking into his partner's. “A deviant was threatening to jump off of a roof with a little girl. I managed to save her.” 

“So I guess you’ve done all your homework, right?” Hank asked, eyebrows raised. “Know everything there is to know about me?”

Connor didn’t miss the smile that Hank was visibly trying to repress, and Connor felt a sort of tightness in his thirium pump when Hank maintained eye contact. He’d have to run a few diagnostics later to make sure there was nothing wrong. Connor decided he’d tell the truth.

“I know you graduated top of your class,” Connor said, not afraid to give Hank an ego. “You made a name for yourself in several cases and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit.”

Hank raised his eyebrows and gave a slight nod, seemingly repressing another smile.

“I also know you’ve received several disciplinary warnings in recent years, and you spend a lot of time in bars.” Connor finished, and Hank seemed amused.

“So, what’s your conclusion?” Hank questioned, and Connor chose his words carefully.

“I think working with an officer with… personal issues is an added challenge,” Connor said slowly, giving him a side-eye before turning back to him. “But, adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features,” he finished and on impulse, he winked at Hank, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. Hank choked on his drink, and before Connor had time to wonder why he had winked at Hank, he received a report from CyberLife.

“I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It’s a few blocks away,” He made a gesture with his hands and let his eyes drift to the side. “We should go have a look.” He looked back at Hank, and he spotted sauce on the side of the man’s mouth. His mouth filled with analysis fluid, at which he swallowed thickly, ignoring another impulse.

“I’ll let you finish your meal,”  Connor said, watching as Hank’s eyes went from his unfinished burger to Connor. “I’ll be in the car if you need me.”

Connor gave Hank one last look before turning to walk to the car, LED now pulsing yellow as he began to process everything that happened. He opened the passenger side door and sat with his hands folded in his lap. His fingers twitched, though, and he decided to take out his coin, spinning it around his fingers; he felt more collected with his hands busy. He thought back to his impulses. Or at least the ones he had suppressed. It puzzled him why he, a machine that was programmed to only make logic-based decisions, had winked at Hank- and worse- wanted to kiss him. He was not naive, so it did not take him long to realize why his eyes always ended up on Hank’s lips. There was very little to excuse this… this want that he had. There was nothing logical about it, and it frustrated him more when he realized he wasn’t supposed to want anything. He didn’t have much time to think about it further because he caught movement in his peripheral, and it wasn’t a passing taxi, but it was Hank, throwing away the wrapper from his burger. Connor made sure he had good posture and pocketed his coin, straightening his tie as he watched Hank walk over to his car. Connor scanned the area for any oncoming cars and was relieved to find none, preconstructions of how he might have to save Hank fading away. The car door opened and Connor’s hand twitched again with the need to fidget and calm himself down.

Calm himself down?

There was no reason for him to be anxious. In fact, he should feel nothing at all. Machine, machine, machine, he repeated it to himself in his head like a mantra and Hank slammed the door shut, though in his HUD appeared a reassuring reminder that Hank was not being hostile, displaying their relationship as “warm.”

Connor dared to turn to Hank, and he found that the older man still had sauce on his mouth. Connor stared at it and Hank cleared his throat.

“Uh?” Hank moved his arm, presumably to snap Connor out of the trance he appeared to be in, but Connor moved quicker than he did. Connor’s hand cupped his face and he swiftly closed the distance between them, kissing Hank and licking the sauce off of the side of his mouth. Hank tensed but as quickly as it had happened, it was over.

“What the fuck?” Hank sputtered, and Connor realized he needed to come up with an excuse and he needed to do it quickly.

“I was taking a sample from the sauce on the side of your mouth,” Connor quipped, keeping his tone neutral despite the clenching feeling in his chest. “It’s more accurate to have it touch the sensors in my tongue directly.”

“And- and you did that because…?” Hank made a vague gesture with his hand. Connor, who constantly tracked his vitals, noticed the spike in his heart rate when he’d kissed- no, taken a sample from Hank.

“I am simply concerned for your health, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. “You really shouldn’t be eating that.”

“Yeah, okay…” Hank put his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples. “Fucking androids.”

Connor didn’t say anything more to this, just rubbed his hands together as Hank started the car and they made their way to the apartment building. Connor did notice though, that his relationship with Hank was no longer warm, but replaced by three question marks. Hank’s knuckles were white, his grip on the steering wheel needlessly tight, and his eyes on the road... mostly. Connor also noticed the way that Hank was occasionally glancing at him, usually followed by cursing under his breath. When they pulled up to the complex after a horribly silent car ride, Hank seemed hesitant to leave the car.

“Is something bothering you, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, head tilting in a puppy-like fashion. Hank was… blushing?

“Fuck you,” Hank muttered, and Connor opened his mouth to question him, but he was cut short when Hank pulled him forward and connected their lips in an actual kiss. Connor reacted quickly and mirrored his movements, and Hank’s hand tangled in his hair. Connor received another heat distribution warning and this time it came along with a software instability warning, both of which he dismissed, deciding that focusing on what was happening right then was more worthy of his processing power. He involuntarily groaned when Hank’s tongue slid across his lips and Connor quickly realized what it’d meant, opening his mouth in submission. Hank’s tongue grazed Connor’s and the android shuddered, information cluttering his vision but only made the experience greater, telling him that this was Hank. Hank pulled away at that though, and Connor briefly felt disappointed before realizing that Hank still needed to breathe; Connor had already abandoned his simulated breathing. As Hank caught his breath, Connor took it as an opportunity to tease him.

“I thought you said my face was goofy?” Connor asked coyly, his lips upturned in a smirk.

“Don’t push it, Connor,” Hank warned, sticking a finger in his direction in a scolding manner. Connor relented, still smirking to himself as he straightened his tie and prepared to leave the vehicle.

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”