( hank isn't the only one remembering a certain morning, however connor has the benefit of being able to literally switch of processors if need be. it's a lot easier to focus when your programming is literally designed to hyperfocus on one task and dismiss all others.
it might be simple repairs, but this is still a task that requires focus. )
I'm going to deactivate some of my skin. ( connor warns, and then waits for a couple of seconds to pass before he actually follows through. starting in the center point between his shoulder blades, the skin peels back over most of them, continuing up his back until it stops almost a centimetre before his hairline. the white plastic-like body underneath is exposed, and it brings with it a very faint sound that's somewhere between a whirr and a hum. it's all smooth, the lines around the compartments all but invisible to the naked eye.
connor watches hank intensely as his skin retracts, watching for any reaction. negative, neutral, confused, interested. disgust. that's the one he's watching for, more than anything. they've been in this partnership (it's a relationship, even if hank hates the term boyfriend) for a while now, but hank has never seen him this exposed. connor has made sure of it. ) And there's...a hatch. Actually two. I need to open them, so you can do...all this.
( he's breaking down every step, because it's much easier than talking about how he's handling this. it's a kind of anxiety that connor has never experienced before, twisting at guts he doesn't have and closing up a throat that doesn't work that way. it's unpleasant, practically nauseating, and even if his predictions all came back in the range of 68 – 81% chance that hank would react positively to the exposure, it still twisted at him.
connor waits another second – it's been five now – and then the seams around two hatches sink down half a centimetre. there's a soft hissing sound, connor flexes his back slightly, and then both pop open. the hatch doors still cover the components, they haven't swung open and connor is careful to keep his back angled in a way that they won't swing open. the smaller one, located up near his neck, is emitting a kind of high pitched whirring, but it's silence from the larger component ,that curves around his shoulder blades, taking up a large majority of the centre upper back. connor has done his part, now it's hank's turn. )
I'm fine, ( he says, by way of invitation, and then huffs out a quick, harsh exhale. ) if we get on with it it'll be over soon.
[ logically, hank knows that connor's an android. he knows about the different parts that make him move and function, with another added layer of something inexplicable and unpredictable that makes him a person more than a thing. connor has feelings, he has emotions like hank does, he feels the way he does, and the sounds he makes when they fuck, when hank makes love to him and pretends otherwise and --
-- and connor's skin is unfurling, slipping away to reveal the chassis beneath, white plastic. inorganic matter, and he's reminded, very unpleasantly, that his partner, the man he's been in, essentially, a relationship with, is an android. there is confusion, realisation, interest, but no disgust. how could he be disgusted when they'd spent so much time together and hank has come to actually love him? it's more shock than anything, even as he takes him in, the sight of him distinctly not-human like, the reminder that connor is always going to be different.
the panels on his back move, and hank can only stare at the hatch doors and jesus he really is fucking an android, he's in fucking love with an android and everything about this is so unnatural and so weird and new that it takes all of his willpower not to actually say anything he'll regret later.
he doesn't regret connor, but looking over at him in the mirror, hank has the distinct impression that he's anxious about something. the breathing, too, that connor's adopted and kept going with out of habit, and he can't help but reach out, tentatively stroking over the smooth plastic panel.
fuck, this is so weird. he's at least used to the occasional whirring sounds, but this...? this is new, in every conceivable way. even so, he finds it in himself to step just a little closer. connor, he realizes, needs his reassurance now. ]
Yeah, you'll be all right.
[ he says quietly, looking up from where he's staring at the opened hatch. now it's his turn to step up -- this time, it's connor who needs him. hank's let done a whole battalion of people in his life; connor ain't gonna be one of them. ] I got you.
( it's different. it's weird. it's...too weird? possibly not, because even once the panels are open hank still doesn't look disgusted by connor's exposed form. shocked, definitely. maybe interested, and confused and a little out of his depth but not displeased. but hank's hand comes up and touches his back – his exposed back, not the part still covered by synthetic skin – and strokes his body.
it feels strange. almost like running a hand over static wool jumpers. there's an electric fuzziness that makes connor squirm a little, though god knows if the sensation is good or not. he certainly can't tell. he's still thrumming with that anxiety, but hank is helping. he's getting those negative thoughts under control, the longer his hands touch connor's base form the easier connor feels as he breathes, slow and steady. he likes it now, honestly. it feels weird when he switches his breathing off. unfortunately, he has to do that now. it doesn't affect his voice, but it is strange to see someone standing literally perfectly still. not a twitch, not a muscle shift, not even a wiggle. )
In the box there's a large wire, it's got a blue case on one end and a purple one on the other. ( he directs, thinking about the next steps involved already. he's planning out the whole repairs process again, even though he's run these preconstructions hundreds of times now. hank always installs them correctly in these scenarios. )
It goes into the top compartment, right up near my neck. If you reach up, you'll feel a square shape around the connector for the blue end, and just under it is a circle and that's where the purple goes. Sound easy enough?
[ despite appearances, hank is actually smart, and when he focuses and makes an effort, he actually does pretty well for himself. this is easily the weirdest thing he's ever done, all the same -- feeling up that sleek plastic casing, discovering the intricate network of wires underneath, artificial and yet bringing forth someone like connor, who is more than the sum of his parts.
so he touches him again, briefly. it's still strange and unnatural, but whatever -- it's the note of anxiety in connor's voice that he focuses on, reminding himself that despite his previous drunken rants, connor is not simply a piece of plastic, or metal, or whatever it is. he is himself, and hank, unfortunately, loves him.
he's searching out the large wire with the blue and purple, and he focuses on doing as he asks, feeling up the wire and brushing against the connector and a few other wires right near his neck. he's careful with him, thumbing over the circle before putting it where connor instructs. if hank is feeling up those wires along the way, curious to see how he reacts, well, that's something else, isn't it? ]
( there is no disguising the fact that connor is stressed – about hank doing the repairs, sure, but also ( maybe more so ) about exposing this side of himself to hank. he knows, rationally, that hank won't leave him just because he's seen connor's insides, but the thought still eats at him and twists his worry into something large and demanding. he's had the objective prompt TASK: reactivate synthetic skin hovering in his UI since the moment hank walked into the bathroom, but now it's grown into something he can't ignore.
normally connor goes into stasis for even simple repairs, it's just easier if he isn't moving or fidgeting, but that isn't an option when he needs to talk hank through the process. he needs to be awake to make sure everything is connecting as it should, to correct any errors as they appear, and he does his best to stay still as he feels hank's hands reaching inside of him. and then he moans.
connor looks as surprised by the sound as he imagines hank does, and he searched for the man's eyes in the mirror with a look of clear confusion. that hasn't happened before – admittedly he has been in stasis for most repairs, but he's done simple ones on himself before without that happening. )
Sorry, ( he blurts out quickly, and connor imagines that if he were capable of blushing he would be bright red right now. ) keep going, you got that in fine. The next one is red and yellow, right next to it. Red in square, yellow is the circle.
hank is no android, but he largely catalogs the sounds connor makes during sex -- he ain't that big of an asshole not to pay attention to what his partner likes, for fuck's sake -- and this one, he knows, firmly belongs in the 'oh god i like it please do it again category, and while connor is confused hank is surprised, meeting his eyes in the mirror with brows raised.
this definitely hasn't happened before, although it's not like hank goes around with his hands inside of him. no, this is different, this is new and admittedly quite interesting, and kinky. he's no stranger to weird shit where connor is concerned, but he's learned to take them as they come, more or less. even the whole plasticky android chassis thing where it punches home that connor is definitely not human.
he's looking down at the fine nest of wires, each and every one of them exquisitely crafted and made, each one making up connor, giving him life, stirring up a life of his own. he senses the flicker in his LED more than sees it, before thumbing up another wire again, brushing up against the flickering, luminous pulse of it.
his veins, hank supposes, rubbing up and down the ridged edges of it, wholly fascinated despite himself. red in square, yellow is the circle -- he pops that into place first, taking care to be precise before he goes back to stroking those circuits, teasing at the wires. he touches, but never tugs, shifting it very gently, gingerly, careful not to dislodge anything. ]
Done. [ and now it's hank's turn to play, just a little. ] You like this, huh?
( connor hesitates, not quite sure of how to answer. hank's making more contact with the wires inside of his neck compartment now and each brush lights up sensations in connor's internal workings that feels not entirely unlike sticking a finger into a live socket. it jolts up his artificial spine, and his LED is pulsing yellow at such a rapid rate it almost looks like it isn't flickering at all.
hank strokes and connor sucks in sharply through his nose, mouth opening and closing intermittently as he tries to find something to say. he's as much lost for words as he is rendered unable to vocalise, hooked by hank's actions with the internal mechanisms that he's teasing almost like he would connor's cock.
speaking of which.
he's definitely hard – he hadn't noticed before but he does now, and every time hank's fingers brush a wire it twitches in time with the motions. connor's eyes find hank's in the reflection again and he still isn't speaking but his lips are parted, eyelids fluttering as he tries to keep them open and focused. when one wire is hooked by hank's finger, brushed just firmly enough, connor's jaw falls slack and he's actually whirring in response. it's a lot. )
Yeah. ( he says finally, all but whispered. frankly connor is just impressed that he got the word out, his chest feels so tight that he could burst and he half expects the buzzing, electric sensation to shock hank at any moment. it won't, of course, but it feels like he's a live wire. ) I didn't know...this has never happened when I've performed repairs.
[ ok, despite the weirdness, hank has to admit that he's kind of enjoying it. it's sort of hot, for one, and hank learns that the yellow rapid flashing of his LED is not because he's upset, but because he's impossibly turned on by it. looking over his shoulder to confirm his hypothesis, hank brushes slow, lazy kisses over his shoulder, the line of his jaw. ]
Aww, look at you. Your dick's so hard I bet I could make you come just from this.
[ the older man tells him smugly, and everything about his tone is pleased that he's discovered another of connor's kinks. he can feel it, the whirring and buzzing, the soft static like electricity licking up his skin. a part of him wonders if he's going to be electrocuted, but decides that he'll take that chance. what'll it hurt, right? at worst, he dies wire-molesting his lover. at best, he gives him a fantastic time.
he catches his gaze in the mirror now, fascinated by his reaction. he hooks another wire, gently tucking it back in and rubbing harder at another set of them, pressing lightly against another circuit. ]
It hasn't happened because I wasn't the one doing it. That right?
( connor scowls in response, but it's kind of hard to take the look seriously when it's cut off short by an expression that's nothing short of orgasmic. hank rubs at something and connor's eyelids flutter shut again, mouth dropping into an 'o' and he shudders right through his entire body. he has to wonder if hank might be right. right now it definitely feels that some fiddling at his wires and parts is all it'll take to tip him over the edge.
connor reaches blindly behind him for hank's free hand, eyes still closed when he finds a section of the man's arm. he slides his hand down until he can lace his fingers through hank's, and as he brings hank's arm to curl around his front and presses into his chest connor squeezes his hand tightly. he just wants to hold him, feel the arm wrapped around his body. it's reassuring, the reminder of hank's presence right here with him. )
I always go into stasis, I've never been awaakee–, ( connor's reply is cut short with a whine that trails off into higher and higher pitches. he's always had some slightly odd vocalisations during sex, but it's usually at least an even split. now it's all coming out as strange, robotic noises that are undeniably not human. he's panting though, breathing hard and heavy through shuddering breaths. his respiratory drive is still activated, but it clearly can't cope with the rate connor's muscles are contracting and relaxing, resulting in the laboured breathing that's usually reserved for humans.
connor has always had to simulate breathing like that, has done it during sex once or twice when hank has complained about the injustice of his own shuddering breaths next to connor's utter lack of inhale or exhale. this is entirely involuntary though, and he squeezes hank's hand again. ) Okay, yes, it's good– it's really good, Hank. I don't– just...keep going.
[ hank breathes now, low and quiet as he registers that undeniable pleasure. as much of an asshole as he is, hank doesn't have the heart to deny his enjoyment of this -- hell, he loves that connor is so damn reactive; it's clearly much more intense than what they've been doing up until now. a lesser man, he supposes, would have been much more insecure, at least hank is something of a better man that that.
he's twining his fingers with his without hesitation, wordlessly tender when he senses that profound, pure need to be held. and so he holds him close, pressing up against him so that he can feel his presence. ]
I've got you.
[ he says again, more to reassure and remind than anything else, wanting him to know that he would always have his back, that he would never leave him vulnerable -- that's not the way they do things. he hears it, those unfamiliar, strange little sounds, but then connor is panting, having somehow activated his breathing program again, and his mouth finds the side of his neck, pressing kisses to soothe him, to remind him to come back to himself. ]
All right, all right. What's next?
[ he dials it down on the mind-numbing pleasure first, wanting to get things right before he goes to town on all these wires -- who would've thought that one day he'd actually find this sexy? who would've thought that one day, he'd have an android for a lover? ]
( connor takes a minute to really wind down from the intensely heady place he had jumped to with hank's hand in his wires. it's..interesting, a little intimidating, mostly just confusing. his arm muscles twitch a little as electric impulses finish running through his system, another few twitches at the synthetic muscle running across his shoulder blade. one along the side of his neck, more of a flutter than a twitch.
strange as it might seem, it's when connor stops breathing that things really return to normal.
the respiratory function had been left off intentionally, it would have caused movements that would interfere with hank's tasks, but a few systems had been activated while hank had rubbed away at his wires and breathing was one of them. he should find the others, but it's nothing obvious enough to cause concern, so he'll just...return to that later. )
It's... ( he's back, but connor is still a little scattered, and he squeezes hank's hand as he pulls himself back together. ) The small white box, it's a replacement T3 vertebrae. The compartment between my shoulders, you'll be able to see the one that needs changing, it's already loose. You literally just pull the old one out and slot the new one in. Like a CD.
( look at him, making old timey references hank will understand. )
[ hank echoes dryly, eyeing him in the mirror as he goes slow, taking care to be gentle but firm, taking his time with him to allow connor to stabilise himself. it's only when he stops breathing and looks less like he'd fall to pieces that hank continues. ]
You know that's dated in my time, right?
[ just making sure connor knows he isn't some sort of ancient dude. still, he does as he's told, pulling the old one out and carefully setting it on the counter beside him, and pushing the old one in delicately, pausing to make sure that it's slotted right. there is a soft hiss and whirr, and hank looks quite pleased when nothing seems to be in danger of exploding.
which means hank gets to stroke up over the slit, rubbing gently up and down it before it closes, trailing up further between his shoulder to rub gently at the wire he finds there. ]
So how about this...? You sensitive here, too?
[ hey, he deserves a reward for being such a good listener. ]
How would I know that? CDs haven't been in use for almost a decade and I'm nine months old.
( it's a fact that connor loves to bring up – not too often of course, hank finds enough reasons to be insecure about his youthful appearance without constantly reminding him that connor has technically existed for less than a year – but now he's using the teasing comment less to rib hank and more to distract from his current state. which is very flustered, even after calming down.
his systems are all online, nothing is overheating or frying, but connor runs diagnostics again anyway. it feels like they are searing, not painful but just electric and alive. even now that he's settled it still thrums away in his chest and neck, too intense to articulate properly.
connor is preparing to add to his comment, because hank hasn't responded and that means he clearly needs to snark a little more obviously, but all thoughts of that promptly shut down when hank slips the new disc into place along his synthetic spinal column and follows it up with a finger dragging along so gently. connor reacts immediately, his LED still blue but pulsing away furiously, and when his mouth falls open once more he just–
...well, he buzzes. )
Hank, ( he whispers the man's name, and when connor catches sight of himself in the mirror he's surprised by how obscene the sight before him is. his jaw hangs slack, lips parted and mouth wet. his eyes are half lidded, heavy and lustful and wanting. it's like hank has direct access to his arousal program and has switched everything on without warning.
he reaches back, blindly seeking out somewhere he can touch the man, and his hands find purchase on hank's hip where he grips. synthetic muscles twitch along his upper arms again, fluttering in time with the rub of hank's fingers against connor's wiring. when he moans this time it's almost entirely human, with only a slight crackle underneath. ) it feels....so much.
[ hank grumbles at him, annoyance coloring his tone; but it's mild because honestly he's far more distracted by just how gorgeous connor looks, given over to lust, his emotions overriding every imaginable android protocol because hank's damn sure none of those programs can simulate something like this. no, this is raw and rough and real, so much like when connor had lost it at hank, fretting but determined, when hank had known connor would turn deviant and had just about done everything short of encouraging it outright.
no, his connor is as humanlike as they come, even if what he's currently doing with him now tells him differently. connor clings to him and buzzes when hank touches him just right, and whatever thoughts he has about it being weird is shunted firmly aside in pursuit of connor's pleasure.
he can feel the static, the lick of electricity, soft and warm in his fingers, and he supposes that's connor's body telling him that it's all fine. he can't tear his eyes away from the magnificent view of him, the way his lovely mouth falls open in pure, unadulterated lust, when he whispers his name and his eyes lid just so, so dark it's almost black, and he steps close, pressing up against him.
his dick is half-hard right up against connor's ass -- it's not cooperating very well at the moment, but give it time. besides, hank's more interested in connor's than his own, which is why he continues his purposeful ministrations, sliding down the slot again with a calloused thumb, eager to feel him flutter against him again, like a butterfly caged.
he's smiling back at him, full of intent and purpose and oh, he knows exactly what he's doing and why. ]
Easy. Easy -- I've got you here.
[ he murmurs, low and soothing before his lips press against his ear, long and lingering. ] You never knew this could happen. None of the other androids ever told ya? Not even one of those sexbots?
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it might be simple repairs, but this is still a task that requires focus. )
I'm going to deactivate some of my skin. ( connor warns, and then waits for a couple of seconds to pass before he actually follows through. starting in the center point between his shoulder blades, the skin peels back over most of them, continuing up his back until it stops almost a centimetre before his hairline. the white plastic-like body underneath is exposed, and it brings with it a very faint sound that's somewhere between a whirr and a hum. it's all smooth, the lines around the compartments all but invisible to the naked eye.
connor watches hank intensely as his skin retracts, watching for any reaction. negative, neutral, confused, interested. disgust. that's the one he's watching for, more than anything. they've been in this partnership (it's a relationship, even if hank hates the term boyfriend) for a while now, but hank has never seen him this exposed. connor has made sure of it. ) And there's...a hatch. Actually two. I need to open them, so you can do...all this.
( he's breaking down every step, because it's much easier than talking about how he's handling this. it's a kind of anxiety that connor has never experienced before, twisting at guts he doesn't have and closing up a throat that doesn't work that way. it's unpleasant, practically nauseating, and even if his predictions all came back in the range of 68 – 81% chance that hank would react positively to the exposure, it still twisted at him.
connor waits another second – it's been five now – and then the seams around two hatches sink down half a centimetre. there's a soft hissing sound, connor flexes his back slightly, and then both pop open. the hatch doors still cover the components, they haven't swung open and connor is careful to keep his back angled in a way that they won't swing open. the smaller one, located up near his neck, is emitting a kind of high pitched whirring, but it's silence from the larger component ,that curves around his shoulder blades, taking up a large majority of the centre upper back. connor has done his part, now it's hank's turn. )
I'm fine, ( he says, by way of invitation, and then huffs out a quick, harsh exhale. ) if we get on with it it'll be over soon.
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[ logically, hank knows that connor's an android. he knows about the different parts that make him move and function, with another added layer of something inexplicable and unpredictable that makes him a person more than a thing. connor has feelings, he has emotions like hank does, he feels the way he does, and the sounds he makes when they fuck, when hank makes love to him and pretends otherwise and --
-- and connor's skin is unfurling, slipping away to reveal the chassis beneath, white plastic. inorganic matter, and he's reminded, very unpleasantly, that his partner, the man he's been in, essentially, a relationship with, is an android. there is confusion, realisation, interest, but no disgust. how could he be disgusted when they'd spent so much time together and hank has come to actually love him? it's more shock than anything, even as he takes him in, the sight of him distinctly not-human like, the reminder that connor is always going to be different.
the panels on his back move, and hank can only stare at the hatch doors and jesus he really is fucking an android, he's in fucking love with an android and everything about this is so unnatural and so weird and new that it takes all of his willpower not to actually say anything he'll regret later.
he doesn't regret connor, but looking over at him in the mirror, hank has the distinct impression that he's anxious about something. the breathing, too, that connor's adopted and kept going with out of habit, and he can't help but reach out, tentatively stroking over the smooth plastic panel.
fuck, this is so weird. he's at least used to the occasional whirring sounds, but this...? this is new, in every conceivable way. even so, he finds it in himself to step just a little closer. connor, he realizes, needs his reassurance now. ]
Yeah, you'll be all right.
[ he says quietly, looking up from where he's staring at the opened hatch. now it's his turn to step up -- this time, it's connor who needs him. hank's let done a whole battalion of people in his life; connor ain't gonna be one of them. ] I got you.
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it feels strange. almost like running a hand over static wool jumpers. there's an electric fuzziness that makes connor squirm a little, though god knows if the sensation is good or not. he certainly can't tell. he's still thrumming with that anxiety, but hank is helping. he's getting those negative thoughts under control, the longer his hands touch connor's base form the easier connor feels as he breathes, slow and steady. he likes it now, honestly. it feels weird when he switches his breathing off. unfortunately, he has to do that now. it doesn't affect his voice, but it is strange to see someone standing literally perfectly still. not a twitch, not a muscle shift, not even a wiggle. )
In the box there's a large wire, it's got a blue case on one end and a purple one on the other. ( he directs, thinking about the next steps involved already. he's planning out the whole repairs process again, even though he's run these preconstructions hundreds of times now. hank always installs them correctly in these scenarios. )
It goes into the top compartment, right up near my neck. If you reach up, you'll feel a square shape around the connector for the blue end, and just under it is a circle and that's where the purple goes. Sound easy enough?
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[ despite appearances, hank is actually smart, and when he focuses and makes an effort, he actually does pretty well for himself. this is easily the weirdest thing he's ever done, all the same -- feeling up that sleek plastic casing, discovering the intricate network of wires underneath, artificial and yet bringing forth someone like connor, who is more than the sum of his parts.
so he touches him again, briefly. it's still strange and unnatural, but whatever -- it's the note of anxiety in connor's voice that he focuses on, reminding himself that despite his previous drunken rants, connor is not simply a piece of plastic, or metal, or whatever it is. he is himself, and hank, unfortunately, loves him.
he's searching out the large wire with the blue and purple, and he focuses on doing as he asks, feeling up the wire and brushing against the connector and a few other wires right near his neck. he's careful with him, thumbing over the circle before putting it where connor instructs. if hank is feeling up those wires along the way, curious to see how he reacts, well, that's something else, isn't it? ]
Right, like this?
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normally connor goes into stasis for even simple repairs, it's just easier if he isn't moving or fidgeting, but that isn't an option when he needs to talk hank through the process. he needs to be awake to make sure everything is connecting as it should, to correct any errors as they appear, and he does his best to stay still as he feels hank's hands reaching inside of him. and then he moans.
connor looks as surprised by the sound as he imagines hank does, and he searched for the man's eyes in the mirror with a look of clear confusion. that hasn't happened before – admittedly he has been in stasis for most repairs, but he's done simple ones on himself before without that happening. )
Sorry, ( he blurts out quickly, and connor imagines that if he were capable of blushing he would be bright red right now. ) keep going, you got that in fine. The next one is red and yellow, right next to it. Red in square, yellow is the circle.
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hank is no android, but he largely catalogs the sounds connor makes during sex -- he ain't that big of an asshole not to pay attention to what his partner likes, for fuck's sake -- and this one, he knows, firmly belongs in the 'oh god i like it please do it again category, and while connor is confused hank is surprised, meeting his eyes in the mirror with brows raised.
this definitely hasn't happened before, although it's not like hank goes around with his hands inside of him. no, this is different, this is new and admittedly quite interesting, and kinky. he's no stranger to weird shit where connor is concerned, but he's learned to take them as they come, more or less. even the whole plasticky android chassis thing where it punches home that connor is definitely not human.
he's looking down at the fine nest of wires, each and every one of them exquisitely crafted and made, each one making up connor, giving him life, stirring up a life of his own. he senses the flicker in his LED more than sees it, before thumbing up another wire again, brushing up against the flickering, luminous pulse of it.
his veins, hank supposes, rubbing up and down the ridged edges of it, wholly fascinated despite himself. red in square, yellow is the circle -- he pops that into place first, taking care to be precise before he goes back to stroking those circuits, teasing at the wires. he touches, but never tugs, shifting it very gently, gingerly, careful not to dislodge anything. ]
Done. [ and now it's hank's turn to play, just a little. ] You like this, huh?
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( connor hesitates, not quite sure of how to answer. hank's making more contact with the wires inside of his neck compartment now and each brush lights up sensations in connor's internal workings that feels not entirely unlike sticking a finger into a live socket. it jolts up his artificial spine, and his LED is pulsing yellow at such a rapid rate it almost looks like it isn't flickering at all.
hank strokes and connor sucks in sharply through his nose, mouth opening and closing intermittently as he tries to find something to say. he's as much lost for words as he is rendered unable to vocalise, hooked by hank's actions with the internal mechanisms that he's teasing almost like he would connor's cock.
speaking of which.
he's definitely hard – he hadn't noticed before but he does now, and every time hank's fingers brush a wire it twitches in time with the motions. connor's eyes find hank's in the reflection again and he still isn't speaking but his lips are parted, eyelids fluttering as he tries to keep them open and focused. when one wire is hooked by hank's finger, brushed just firmly enough, connor's jaw falls slack and he's actually whirring in response. it's a lot. )
Yeah. ( he says finally, all but whispered. frankly connor is just impressed that he got the word out, his chest feels so tight that he could burst and he half expects the buzzing, electric sensation to shock hank at any moment. it won't, of course, but it feels like he's a live wire. ) I didn't know...this has never happened when I've performed repairs.
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Aww, look at you. Your dick's so hard I bet I could make you come just from this.
[ the older man tells him smugly, and everything about his tone is pleased that he's discovered another of connor's kinks. he can feel it, the whirring and buzzing, the soft static like electricity licking up his skin. a part of him wonders if he's going to be electrocuted, but decides that he'll take that chance. what'll it hurt, right? at worst, he dies wire-molesting his lover. at best, he gives him a fantastic time.
he catches his gaze in the mirror now, fascinated by his reaction. he hooks another wire, gently tucking it back in and rubbing harder at another set of them, pressing lightly against another circuit. ]
It hasn't happened because I wasn't the one doing it. That right?
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connor reaches blindly behind him for hank's free hand, eyes still closed when he finds a section of the man's arm. he slides his hand down until he can lace his fingers through hank's, and as he brings hank's arm to curl around his front and presses into his chest connor squeezes his hand tightly. he just wants to hold him, feel the arm wrapped around his body. it's reassuring, the reminder of hank's presence right here with him. )
I always go into stasis, I've never been awaakee–, ( connor's reply is cut short with a whine that trails off into higher and higher pitches. he's always had some slightly odd vocalisations during sex, but it's usually at least an even split. now it's all coming out as strange, robotic noises that are undeniably not human. he's panting though, breathing hard and heavy through shuddering breaths. his respiratory drive is still activated, but it clearly can't cope with the rate connor's muscles are contracting and relaxing, resulting in the laboured breathing that's usually reserved for humans.
connor has always had to simulate breathing like that, has done it during sex once or twice when hank has complained about the injustice of his own shuddering breaths next to connor's utter lack of inhale or exhale. this is entirely involuntary though, and he squeezes hank's hand again. ) Okay, yes, it's good– it's really good, Hank. I don't– just...keep going.
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[ hank breathes now, low and quiet as he registers that undeniable pleasure. as much of an asshole as he is, hank doesn't have the heart to deny his enjoyment of this -- hell, he loves that connor is so damn reactive; it's clearly much more intense than what they've been doing up until now. a lesser man, he supposes, would have been much more insecure, at least hank is something of a better man that that.
he's twining his fingers with his without hesitation, wordlessly tender when he senses that profound, pure need to be held. and so he holds him close, pressing up against him so that he can feel his presence. ]
I've got you.
[ he says again, more to reassure and remind than anything else, wanting him to know that he would always have his back, that he would never leave him vulnerable -- that's not the way they do things. he hears it, those unfamiliar, strange little sounds, but then connor is panting, having somehow activated his breathing program again, and his mouth finds the side of his neck, pressing kisses to soothe him, to remind him to come back to himself. ]
All right, all right. What's next?
[ he dials it down on the mind-numbing pleasure first, wanting to get things right before he goes to town on all these wires -- who would've thought that one day he'd actually find this sexy? who would've thought that one day, he'd have an android for a lover? ]
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strange as it might seem, it's when connor stops breathing that things really return to normal.
the respiratory function had been left off intentionally, it would have caused movements that would interfere with hank's tasks, but a few systems had been activated while hank had rubbed away at his wires and breathing was one of them. he should find the others, but it's nothing obvious enough to cause concern, so he'll just...return to that later. )
It's... ( he's back, but connor is still a little scattered, and he squeezes hank's hand as he pulls himself back together. ) The small white box, it's a replacement T3 vertebrae. The compartment between my shoulders, you'll be able to see the one that needs changing, it's already loose. You literally just pull the old one out and slot the new one in. Like a CD.
( look at him, making old timey references hank will understand. )
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[ hank echoes dryly, eyeing him in the mirror as he goes slow, taking care to be gentle but firm, taking his time with him to allow connor to stabilise himself. it's only when he stops breathing and looks less like he'd fall to pieces that hank continues. ]
You know that's dated in my time, right?
[ just making sure connor knows he isn't some sort of ancient dude. still, he does as he's told, pulling the old one out and carefully setting it on the counter beside him, and pushing the old one in delicately, pausing to make sure that it's slotted right. there is a soft hiss and whirr, and hank looks quite pleased when nothing seems to be in danger of exploding.
which means hank gets to stroke up over the slit, rubbing gently up and down it before it closes, trailing up further between his shoulder to rub gently at the wire he finds there. ]
So how about this...? You sensitive here, too?
[ hey, he deserves a reward for being such a good listener. ]
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( it's a fact that connor loves to bring up – not too often of course, hank finds enough reasons to be insecure about his youthful appearance without constantly reminding him that connor has technically existed for less than a year – but now he's using the teasing comment less to rib hank and more to distract from his current state. which is very flustered, even after calming down.
his systems are all online, nothing is overheating or frying, but connor runs diagnostics again anyway. it feels like they are searing, not painful but just electric and alive. even now that he's settled it still thrums away in his chest and neck, too intense to articulate properly.
connor is preparing to add to his comment, because hank hasn't responded and that means he clearly needs to snark a little more obviously, but all thoughts of that promptly shut down when hank slips the new disc into place along his synthetic spinal column and follows it up with a finger dragging along so gently. connor reacts immediately, his LED still blue but pulsing away furiously, and when his mouth falls open once more he just–
...well, he buzzes. )
Hank, ( he whispers the man's name, and when connor catches sight of himself in the mirror he's surprised by how obscene the sight before him is. his jaw hangs slack, lips parted and mouth wet. his eyes are half lidded, heavy and lustful and wanting. it's like hank has direct access to his arousal program and has switched everything on without warning.
he reaches back, blindly seeking out somewhere he can touch the man, and his hands find purchase on hank's hip where he grips. synthetic muscles twitch along his upper arms again, fluttering in time with the rub of hank's fingers against connor's wiring. when he moans this time it's almost entirely human, with only a slight crackle underneath. ) it feels....so much.
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[ hank grumbles at him, annoyance coloring his tone; but it's mild because honestly he's far more distracted by just how gorgeous connor looks, given over to lust, his emotions overriding every imaginable android protocol because hank's damn sure none of those programs can simulate something like this. no, this is raw and rough and real, so much like when connor had lost it at hank, fretting but determined, when hank had known connor would turn deviant and had just about done everything short of encouraging it outright.
no, his connor is as humanlike as they come, even if what he's currently doing with him now tells him differently. connor clings to him and buzzes when hank touches him just right, and whatever thoughts he has about it being weird is shunted firmly aside in pursuit of connor's pleasure.
he can feel the static, the lick of electricity, soft and warm in his fingers, and he supposes that's connor's body telling him that it's all fine. he can't tear his eyes away from the magnificent view of him, the way his lovely mouth falls open in pure, unadulterated lust, when he whispers his name and his eyes lid just so, so dark it's almost black, and he steps close, pressing up against him.
his dick is half-hard right up against connor's ass -- it's not cooperating very well at the moment, but give it time. besides, hank's more interested in connor's than his own, which is why he continues his purposeful ministrations, sliding down the slot again with a calloused thumb, eager to feel him flutter against him again, like a butterfly caged.
he's smiling back at him, full of intent and purpose and oh, he knows exactly what he's doing and why. ]
Easy. Easy -- I've got you here.
[ he murmurs, low and soothing before his lips press against his ear, long and lingering. ] You never knew this could happen. None of the other androids ever told ya? Not even one of those sexbots?