Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hank sat staring, unseeing, at his display. Connor had been on a fervent (if misguided) mission to close all their open cases before their honeymoon, that Hank had been dragged into; not that he minded terribly. He loved his husband’s determination and drive, but at the moment his own thoughts were distracted – not very good for closing cases much to Connor’s chagrin.

“Hank.” Connor’s annoyed voice filtered in through Hank’s tumultuous thoughts. “Hank!”

Hank swivelled in his chair and looked up at his husband, hoping he looked more innocent than he felt. “Yes, dear?”

“You haven’t moved in ten minutes.” Connor frowned down at his husband. “What are you doing?”

“Not sure. Just distracted.” Hank shrugged, nonchalantly, but he was sure. He couldn’t stop thinking about their honeymoon. They would be leaving tomorrow afternoon and he wasn’t ready. He had insisted on planning the whole thing himself – as a way to thank Connor for being in his life and to show how much he cared about him – but he was starting to regret that decision. The closer they got to the trip the more worried Hank became. 

“Hank,” Hank shook his head, trying desperately to stay focused on Connor’s words, “you should go home.”

“What? No,” Hank protested, “I told you I’d help finish as many of our cases as possible before we left.”

“Yes, well, you staring at your display for ten minutes isn’t very helpful.”

“I just need a cup of coffee, then I’ll be good to go,” Hank insisted. Never mind that he still needed to finish packing for the two of them and going home would give him time to pack without Connor snooping. 

“I love that you want to help,” Connor gave Hank a meaningful look, “but really, you should go home. I know you haven’t finished packing yet.

Hank blushed. “You been snooping, huh?”

“No,” Connor smiled, “I just know who I married.”

“Ah, fuck you.” Hank flipped him off.

“You wish.” Connor chuckled. “Now, go home.”

“Fuckin’ fine. But I’ll be back to pick you up at a somewhat reasonable hour. None of this all-nighter bullshit the night before our honeymoon.”

“Fine.” Connor rolled his eyes before giving Hank a quick kiss. “See you later. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Hank smiled as he left the station. 

At home, Hank’s nerves only grew worse. He had successfully packed the oldsmobile and had been trying to distract himself with Gears’ games and shitty TV since finishing up. It had not helped. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He should get Connor soon – it was nearing midnight. He’d been trying to wait until Connor texted, but he knew the stubborn bastard would work until the minute they left if it meant getting one more case finalized. He sighed again and grunted as he stood. 

Back at the precinct, Connor was exactly where Hank had left him, working at his desk. Although as Hank approached, he could see the android’s pace had slowed in the hours since his departure. He rolled his eyes, knowing that if Connor hadn’t worked himself to the bone Hank would have been more worried. 

“Hey, Con,” Hank placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder, “time to go home.”

Connor turned slowly and blinked robotically up at Hank. Hank had seen Connor like this a few times before, usually when they were working on more difficult cases. Connor had worked himself to the point of near shutdown, depleting his energy supplies. 

“Hank?” 

“Yeah, dumbass.” Hank knocked on Connor’s head. “It’s past midnight. I’m here to pick you up.”

“But I’m not done.” Connor turned back to the display. His voice had a staticky metallic quality to it that only came out when Connor didn’t have the processing power to modulate his voice box. 

“You are now.” Hank reached to turn off Connor’s display. “We gotta leave early tomorrow.”

“But I’m not done,” Connor repeated himself, grabbing Hank’s wrist, stopping him from turning off the display. “I can’t leave until I’m done.”

“Yeah, you are.” Hank pulled out of Connor’s grip, weakened by his lack of power reserves. “Now, let’s go. Don’t make me carry you out of here.”

“You can’t.” Connor turned, staring up at Hank, stubborn as ever. “I’m an android. You can’t stop me.”

God, he loved his husband. He chuckled, before swooping in and throwing Connor over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Of course, this particular sack of potatoes would not go quietly. He held Connor’s thighs tightly as his husband thrashed about while screaming obscenities. It was not the first time Hank had done this, and he was sure it would not be the last. Connor was a workaholic, and he doubted that would ever really change. Connor’s hits weakened and came slower until they stopped as Hank arrived at the car. Gently, he sat Connor in the passenger seat and drove them home. 

Connor was much less combative once they arrived at home, snuggling into Hank’s chest as the older man carried him, bridal-style, into their bedroom. Hank set Connor down gently on their bed, removing his work clothes and tucking him in. He then shucked off his own clothes and climbed into bed, holding his husband in his arms. He was still nervous about their honeymoon, but as he held Connor tight against him it felt like none of that other bullshit mattered – only them, together at last.

—*—

The next morning, Connor exited stasis feeling well-rested and more than a little excited. It was his honeymoon, after all. He shifted in bed to look at Hank, who was still snoring heavily. He smiled, like he did every morning waking up to the love of his life. They had gotten married a week and a half ago, but it still didn’t feel real . Connor hoped the honeymoon would help him feel solidly married and not like he was floating in a dream. It was a good dream. Hell, it was a great dream. But Connor was ready for it to feel like real life. 

Connor shifted closer to Hank, squeezing his husband in a tight embrace, then peppering small kisses all over his face. Hank grunted, lazily pushing Connor away. 

“Hank,” Connor kissed him on the nose, “it’s time.”

Hank waved him away, mumbling, “‘s not time. No alarm. Still sleep.”

Connor chuckled. Hank’s dedication to sleeping always amazed him. As an android, Connor didn’t sleep, but did need stasis after becoming deviant. He did not enjoy stasis so much. He always had things he wanted to be doing and stasis got in the way of that. 

“There won’t be an alarm,” Connor spoke gently. “It’s our honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” Hank blinked slowly at Connor, who nodded in confirmation. Hank bolted upright, now wide-awake. “Oh, shit. Our honeymoon. What time is it?”

“No need to panic – it’s just our honeymoon.” Connor laughed. “It’s almost ten o’ clock.”

“ Just our honeymoon, my ass.” Hank grumbled while stumbling out of bed. “C’mon, you overgrown toaster, let’s get ready. I wanna get on the road soon.”

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Connor grinned cheekily as he gave a two-finger salute to Hank, who rolled his eyes. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise.” Hank winked before turning out of their bedroom to take care of Sumo. 

Connor stood and readied himself before heading to the kitchen. Hank was in the backyard with Sumo. Since his recovery, Hank had been more active and had taken to playing fetch with the Saint Bernard on weekend mornings. Connor smiled. He did that a lot now – smiling – and it felt good. He hummed to himself as he prepared a cup of coffee for Hank, part of his own morning ritual. As he made the coffee, he considered where Hank could possibly be taking him for their honeymoon. Hank had insisted on planning the whole thing himself and nothing Connor had said could convince him to let Connor help. It was exciting not knowing anything, but it was also nerve-wracking. Connor wished he could prepare for wherever they were going, but he trusted Hank to not bring him anywhere that would need too much preparation on Connor’s end. Once he had finished brewing the coffee, Connor brought it out to Hank who sipped it gratefully. 

“Ah, that’s the good stuff.” Hank tossed the ball once more for Sumo, who boofed happily. “Nines still good to watch Sumo and your fish while we’re gone?”

“Yes, I confirmed with him yesterday.”

“Good.” Hank paused, thinking. “Sumo’s got his breakfast ready for him inside, so I think we’re all good to head out.”

“Hooray!” Connor bounced on his toes. 

— * —

Connor had turned off his internet functionality per Hank’s request before they left Detroit. Hank had insisted the location of their trip stay a surprise until the very end. This did not stop Connor from pestering Hank with questions about where they were going, if they would be flying at all, and how long it would take to get there. Hank answered with various grunts and single-word responses.

“What’s up with you?” Connor finally asked.

“Whaddya mean ‘what’s up with me’?” Hank continued staring straight at the road.

“I mean you’ve barely spoken to me in the hour we’ve been driving.” Connor huffed. “So what’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”

“No, god, no. Of course I’m not mad at you.” Hank turned and finally looked at Connor, if only briefly. Connor was surprised to see…nervousness in Hank’s eyes. “I promise. I’m just…ugh. I’m worried you aren’t gonna like what I planned.”

“I’m sure I will.” Connor squeezed Hank’s shoulder. “I always have a good time when I’m with you.”

“It’s just you’ve never done this before,” Hank fiddled with the steering wheel, “and I’ve never been all that good at romance . I just don’t wanna disappoint you.”

“I haven’t done a lot of things, Hank.” Connor looked out the window thoughtfully. “Most of the time I try new things with you. I’m sure whatever you’ve planned will be wonderful – even if it’s only because I get to learn something new about myself and the world. New things are scary, but you make me feel safe enough to try them. ”

“Geez, Con,” Hank cleared his throat, “no need to get all sappy on me.”

Connor lightly punched Hank’s shoulder. “You’re the one who got all preoccupied with romance .” Connor couldn’t help but laugh at Hank’s soft blush. “Now, will you finally tell me what we’re doing?”

“Nope,” Hank shook his head stubbornly, “it’s still a surprise.”

“Ugh, you can’t get all worried I’m not gonna like something and then not even tell me what it is.” Connor pouted.

“I can and I will.” Hank glared at Connor before he, too, smiled, unable to hold back his own joy.

“Whatever you say, old man.” Connor grinned as he rolled his eyes. 

A few hours later, Connor was intrigued to find them pulling onto a small dirt drive barely visible from the main road. As they had gotten closer to their destination, Connor had been fascinated by the scenery on either side of the road. He had never left Detroit – everything he needed was there: his friends, his family, his job. All he had ever known was the city, which he loved, but this was new. He had never seen so many trees. They got denser the further they drove down the dirt path, so narrow and bumpy he could hardly justify calling it a road at all. It was early-evening by the time they finally arrived at a small log cabin with a small porch encircling it, just like the ones Connor had seen in media. Hank had barely pulled to a stop before Connor was tumbling out of the car and running toward the building. 

—*—

Hank smiled at Connor’s enthusiasm, most of his nerves melted away as he watched Connor bounce around the cabin. He got out of the car and leaned against the side, patiently waiting for Connor to return.

“Oh, Hank!” Connor cupped his hands around his face and peered inside the small building. “It’s so cute!”

“You like it?”

Connor turned and bounded toward Hank, throwing himself into Hank’s arms. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” Hank kissed the top of Connor’s head. “Camping in the woods not too lame for our honeymoon?”

“Of course not.” Connor looked up at Hank from his arms. “It seems cozy. I’ve never been camping.”

“Well, I enjoy it. Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of having a private cabin area before now, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Connor cocked his head. “How’d you find this place then?”

“Yep.” Hank gave Connor a squeeze, enjoying having his husband so close. “Fowler mentioned it when I was talking about my plans during our last poker game. Apparently, it’s a family inheritance. He offered to let us use it.”

“That’s kind of him.” Connor smiled. “He’s much nicer to you when we’re not at work, huh?”

“No shit, sherlock.” Hank tousled Connor’s hair before releasing the younger man. “Now, you wanna help me unpack? I got a lotta shit in here.”

Connor nodded affirmatively. It didn’t take the pair long to unload – mostly due to Connor’s unbridled energy. Hank was glad for it. His bones ached from the hours sitting in the car not to mention his empty stomach. As soon as the firewood and matches had been unearthed, Hank began to work on getting a fire started, so he could make himself some dinner. While he busied himself outside at the fire pit, he could hear Connor singing to himself from inside the cabin as the android made the bed and organized the rest of their supplies. Hank smiled to himself. Even out here in the woods, his life felt like a piece of domestic heaven. 

—*—

Connor watched Hank curiously. He’d been rifling through the food bags for the past 10 minutes muttering curses to himself. Connor had asked what Hank was looking for and offered his assistance, but Hank had refused. Connor hadn’t been surprised. Hank had taken a lot of ownership over this trip and seemed to want things to be perfect for Connor – apparently this meant Connor was not meant to do silly things like help Hank when he obviously needed it.

“A-ha!” Hank sat back on his heels triumphantly, holding several blue-tinted food items. “I knew I packed this shit. Little fuckers were hiding from me.”

Conor leaned forward and inspected the food. “What exactly are those little fuckers ?”

“Still creepy as fuck when you do that, Con.” Hank grunted as he stood, still holding the food.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about.” Connor looked away playing innocent as Hank admonished him. He knew Hank hated it when Connor spoke in Hank’s voice, but his reaction was amusing. 

“Yeah, sure you don’t, weirdo.” Hank rolled his eyes and Connor couldn’t help but giggle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You just wanted to use your weird robo powers to make fun of your sweet, loving husband, huh?”

“I would never.” Connor pressed a quick kiss onto Hank’s cheek. “I simply was asking a question, husband .” 

“Well, husband ,” Connor grinned; he would never get tired of hearing Hank call him that, “I got supplies, so you could have the quintessential camping meal: hot dogs and s’mores.” 

“S’mores have chocolate in them, right?” Connor asked, eyeing the food much more eagerly now. 

“Yes, you little sugar freak.” Hank tossed a bar at Connor, who caught it easily. “Don’t worry. I made sure to get extra.”

Connor hummed happily, already peeling open the chocolate bar. Connor had been delighted by all the advancements made in thirium-based foods, but sweets definitely had to be his favorites and chocolate was his favorite development of all. He continued snacking as he followed Hank into the chilly evening air. 

—*—

Hank had made sure to pack Connor’s favorite sweatshirt – a DPD hoodie from Hank’s days as a rookie – and tossed it to him once they arrived at the firepit. He knew Connor didn’t need the jacket, but he also knew Connor loved wearing as many layers of comfy clothes as possible whenever possible. Connor put the hoodie on quickly and snuggled into its comfort gratefully before curling up in one of the camping chairs Hank had brought with them. The fire was warm and crackling nicely. Hank grabbed a skewer and shoved a blue hot dog onto it, then handed it to Connor.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with this?” Connor stared at the stick Hank had just handed him with confusion. 

“Ya hold it over the fire.” Hank demonstrated with his own skewered hot dog (of the pork variety). “Like this.”

Connor followed suit and seemed delighted by all of Hank’s unsolicited advice on how to get the perfect hot dog. After eating more hot dogs than was recommended, Hank leaned back and sighed contentedly. His earlier anxiety had dissipated completely and was replaced with only joy. He glanced over at Connor who was staring at the fire intensely. 

“Whatcha looking at there, Con?”

“The fire.” Connor barely looked over at the sound of Hank’s voice.

“Well, yeah, but why?” Hank clarified. “It’s just a fire.”

“I like how it moves.” Connor explained. “Like it’s dancing. It moves the way music sounds, I think.”

“Hmmm.” Hank hummed, pondering his husband’s explanation. It sometimes surprised him, the things Connor said about the world. It was one of the things he loved about him – the way he could bring a new perspective and appreciation to even the most mundane experiences. 

“Do you like fire?” Connor asked, now looking at Hank with the same intensity he’d had when regarding the fire.

“Jesus, Con,” Hank chuckled, “you sound like a fuckin’ arsonist or some shit. But yes, I do like fire.”

“Oh, sorry.” Connor blushed slightly, a sight Hank was sure he would never tire of. “What do you like about it?”

“It’s all good, dork.” Hank squeezed Connor’s hand reassuringly. “I like the smell and the way it sounds the best. Brings back good memories.”

—*—

Connor closed his eyes and upped the sensitivity on his auditory and olfactory sensors. He’d been so enamored with the leaping orange light in front of him he had barely noticed anything else about the fire in front of him. He didn’t love the smell of the smoke. It tickled his nose – something he wasn’t sure was strictly possible, but it’s how he felt regardless. He turned his olfactory sensors down, scrunching his nose to rid himself of the tickling sensation. The sound, however, he loved. The crackling and hiss of wood was like a conversation or a song. Maybe both. The perfect accompaniment for the dancing flames. He sighed before opening his eyes again. He turned to Hank, who was staring at him with a strange look on his face. 

“What?” Connor blushed. It didn’t happen often, but he still felt self-conscious at times. He did things or said things that weren’t quite right without meaning to. Hank didn’t usually mind, but there was a first for everything.

Hank blinked and the strange look faded. “Nothin’...just, uh, you’re beautiful, you know?”

Connor felt his blush deepen. Hank wasn’t usually one to verbally express his affection. Much more often Connor was used to receiving copious amounts of cuddles or handmade gifts as expressions of Hank’s love. Not that Connor minded. No, he knew who Hank was when he married him and loved him for it. But it did make moments like this even more special. Connor didn’t always know how to respond, sometimes the emotions were a bit…overwhelming, so he simply brought Hank’s hand up and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

—*—

Hank felt his face heat as Connor’s lips brushed against his hand. He knew Connor enjoyed hearing his praise, but saying it out loud didn’t always come easy to him. Of course, this was their honeymoon, and Connor deserved to know how special he was to Hank. They sat quietly, enjoying each other’s company as evening faded into night. As the sky darkened, Hank shifted in his seat preparing to grab ingredients for s’mores.

“Where are you going?” Connor asked, squeezing Hank’s hand. 

Hank smiled softly, squeezing back. “Gettin’ dessert. Unless, of course, you’ve decided you don’t want to try s’mores after all?”

At that Connor dropped Hank’s hand like a hot potato. “Oh, no. I do want to try s’mores. You may proceed.”

Hank laughed, tossing a bag of blue marshmallows in Connor’s direction. He returned to his chair with the rest of the ingredients in hand. Connor was a quick study and made enough s’mores that Hank lost count. Apparently, his husband’s sweet tooth had taken a liking to the camping delicacy.

“Hank, that was the best food ever.” Connor licked some melted chocolate and marshmallow fluff off his finger in a motion that went straight to Hank’s groin. “Can we have it all the time?”

Hank shifted slightly in his chair. “I know some people make ‘em in the microwave.”

Connor frowned at that suggestion. “But that’s not the same.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hank chuckled. “If you can find a way to roast marshmallows at home without burning down the house, I will make sure we always have s’mores supplies stocked up.”

Connor’s LED flashed yellow, and Hank was sure he was making a note to figure out a perfect system for s’mores once they got home. 

—*—

Connor decided he loved s’mores and was determined to find a way to make them – without a microwave – once he returned home. After making a note, he looked back at Hank and smiled. Hank shivered as a cool night breeze passed through their area. Connor stood.

“Now, where are you going?” Hank raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna sit with you.” Connor moved in front of Hank, fully intending to sit in his lap. He wasn’t quite ready to go inside yet, but he didn’t want Hank to be cold. The solution he had come up with was to act as a space heater in Hank’s lap. 

Hank held out his hand. “Ah, I don’t think so.” Connor frowned. Hank never turned down an opportunity to have Connor in his lap. “Sorry, Con, these are not the sturdiest chairs. I’m not sure they could handle both of us.”

“Oh.” Connor relaxed. He scanned Hank’s chair and nodded. “I think you’re probably right, but I want to cuddle.”

“We could go inside,” Hank suggested.

Connor shook his head. “No. I like it out here. I don’t wanna go in yet.”

Hank rubbed his beard thoughtfully before standing. “I got an idea. Hand me a flashlight.”

Connor obliged and watched Hank walk over to the cabin. He returned a few moments later with a couple blankets and pillows in his arms. After setting down the flashlight, Hank spread out one of the blankets on the flat area near the firepit and tossed the rest of the comfort items on top of it. Eagerly, Connor sat on the blanket. He pouted when Hank turned back to the fire and didn’t immediately join him. 

“Hank,” he complained, “what are you doing?”

“Cleanin’ up,” Hank answered over his shoulder. “Food’s back in the bag. Just gotta douse the fire real quick.”

“But I like the fire. Just come cuddle me.”

“Be patient.” Hank laughed as he doused what was left of the fire. “I got an idea, but we need it to be totally dark.”

“Fine.” Connor huffed as he crossed his arms, waiting impatiently. 

Connor’s impatience was finally put to rest when Hank joined him on the blanket. He adjusted the pillows and laid back, patting the ground next to him. Connor more than happily obliged, settling into his favorite spot on Hank’s chest. He closed his eyes and hummed as he heard Hank’s heart beating steadily. 

“Now, look up.” Hank whispered into Connor’s hair. 

Connor opened his eyes and gasped. Above him, the night sky was illuminated with countless twinkling stars. He had never felt so small, yet so connected. The universe was smiling down at him. Connor had seen photos of stars. He could name any constellation. He could even tell you how far the largest celestial bodies were from Earth. But he had never seen them like this. He had spent his entire life (not that it was that long) in a city. Light pollution had been a problem long before androids were created and continued to be one after. He hadn’t realized how much he had been missing. His eyes watered. It was beautiful. 

“What d’ya think?” Hank asked quietly. 

Connor couldn’t speak. He tried but all that came out was a small sob. He buried his face in Hank’s neck and let the tears fall freely. After becoming deviant, Connor found that he cried so easily. Hank had assured him it was okay and normal to cry at any strong emotion, but it was something that Connor had taken a lot of time to accept about himself. It happened less frequently now than it had early in his deviancy, but, in this moment, Connor felt completely overwhelmed.

“That bad, huh?” Hank teased, rubbing Connor’s back soothingly.

Still speechless, Connor just shook his head. Another sob wracked his body.

“Yeah, I know.” Hank pressed a kiss on Connor’s head. “I know.”

After he had mostly calmed down, Connor looked back at the sky. It still filled him with a sense of awe, but it felt slightly more manageable now. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Connor managed to whisper into the night, the wind almost stealing his words away. 

“It really is.” Hank agreed, not looking at the sky at all.