hank's not the most possessive man in the world; at least, he doesn't think so, but hearing that he's the first, the only, it does so many damn things to him that it's surprising he hadn't come all over himself right then and there. he's enjoying how connor melts against him as he licks, tongue-fucking him mercilessly, easing him open.
he's hard, so very hard now, but his attention is all on connor's asshole, the tight little ring, and when he draws his tongue out he replaces it with two fingers, delicate but firm, paying careful attention to his every reaction. ]
( the moans that hank drags out of connor aren't exactly the ones he would get from a human – they start that way, soft little noises that build as hank keeps fucking his tongue into connor, but after a certain point each moan starts in a very human-like fashion and crackles into a static at the end. he'd make an effort to stop that, only he really can't manage it when hank is doing that. connor pushes his hips back as much as he can, trying to get as much as hank can give him, and when his tongue disappears without warning he very obviously and very loudly whines at the loss of contact.
and then it's replaced by two fingers pushing into him, and connor's elbow joints suddenly give way. he meets the mattress face first, ass still in the air, and the static moans are back as he pushes himself back onto hank's fingers. the upgraded pleasure sensors also came with the ability to feel pain, and connor had engaged that about a week ago out of curiosity and then promptly forgotten about it. until now at least, because hank's fingers are thick, thicker than his tongue certainly, and the stretch burns in a way he's never experienced before. it makes connor inhale sharply, audibly, but he doesn't tell hank to stop. in fact, he does the opposite. )
Hank, ( the man's name crackles in connor's throat, and he arches his back and changes the angle of his hips slightly to try and push the fingers in further. ) I'm good, I can handle more– I need, please.
[ there's something thrilling about hearing that crackle of static -- it sounds weird as hell, admittedly unnatural, but who the fuck cares; hank doesn't demand that connor be as entirely human as possible, it's stupid to wish for it, even if his quirks surprise him sometimes.
like now, like the way he crackles and calls out for him -- connor might be distinctly inhuman, but the way he needs him isn't. when he arches his back and pushes against him, greedy for his fingers, for more, ass in the air and practically presenting himself to be mated, to be fucked into the mattress, and connor might be patient but hank isn't.
he swallows hard at that soft demand, the promise that he can handle more of this, and he pulls his fingers out slow, already slick with lube. fuck, connor has a self-lubricating ass and that's sexy, sexy as hell and he'll never admit that, not even to himself. he's slicking up his own dick with connor's fluids, stroking himself before pressing the thick, fat head of him against that entrance, for a moment fearing that it would be too small.
it might be, and hank grimaces, delicately pressing against that tight little ring of muscle, his concern for him just barely winning out against the roar of instinct, to fuck right into him and damn the consequences, to haul him back by the neck and drive into that tight, tight vise of an ass -- ]
( is connor's immediate response, word spat out before he's even taken the time to analyse if the answer is correct. the calculations are a low priority, incredibly low, and he folds his arms in front of him to have something to rest his head on as he pushes his entire body back against hank's cock resting at his entrance.
the head pushes in and it burns, connor's mouth falls open but no sound comes out. there's an explosion of error messages and warnings and a number of windows that just provide useless information about his surroundings again, but he quickly dismisses them all except one. his hips twitch and he wriggles back a little more. maybe half an inch slips in, and it's sparking a pain that quickly flags more angry warning notifications and sends a shiver down his spine. the notifications across his UI are very much telling him to remove the foreign object penetrating his anal cavity, but he ignores them and just pulls up the one message he left active. it's the measurements he had noted earlier and never followed through with assessing. he'd been thoroughly distracted by hank, but he gives them his attention now, finally, and—
hank isn't going to fit. )
Uh... ( is his helpful response to this information. testing, he disables his warning and notification system and braces his arms against the bed, using his full body to push back against hank. he gasps loudly, accompanied by a buzzing sound that seems to come from the same place as his voice, his LED flickers between red and yellow, and his eyes flutter but don't quite close. under half of hank's length is actually inside of him, and he's stretched to the absolute limit. it won't go any further, connor knows that. hank isn't going to fit. ) We might have a problem. I think– you're possibly...too big.
[ he can see it -- he can fucking feel it, the way that tight, hot little channel refuses to give further; hank's been inside enough cunts and asses to know when there's a problem, and it doesn't help that connor's LED is flickering between yellow and red, which almost definitely means that he's in distress.
so he freezes up, stills while halfway inside of him and curses softly, not at connor, even as he grips his hips tight, keeping him still. he's starting to pull out, because hell if he'd hurt connor, that's just messed up. ]
All right, all right. Stop, stop. We're not doin' this. I'm not fucking you up just because of this.
[ but oh, how he misses that tight little ass, how he regrets pulling out of that incredibly tight, slick vise, the heat and clutch of him, the way his ass looks when it's taking cock -- god. he's so damn hard he can cut diamonds, but it looks like it's hand-to-gland combat for tonight. ]
Wait! ( connor's voice is a little too loud when he blurts out the word, and one of his hands immediately shoots back to grab a hold of hank's hip and keep him still. he's managed to pull out a little but he's still inside connor, and he can't help it when his muscles clench slightly at the thought of hank fully inside of him, bottoming out with his hips pressed up against connor's ass. it's the last thing they need, for connor to be squeezing tighter when hank's cock doesn't even fit when connor is stretched as wide as he is capable of, but it's an involuntary response. he doesn't mean to.
connor hold's hank's hip tight, possibly hard enough to bruise, and it's hard to manage in this position but he manages to push himself back up until his arm on the bed is supporting all of his weight. it's the position he started in, more or less, and when he's convinced that hank won't pull out the moment he lets go, connor releases hank's hip.
with both hands he's much more stable, and it's far easier to manoeuvre into the position he wants to be – upright on his knees, legs spreading a bit to make sure hank still has full access, more importantly to make sure that he doesn't inadvertently shift even further off of the cock still just about pushed into his ass. he's fairly certain that once hank is out, he'll be out, won't be game to try again. )
Give me your arm, ( he says, determined and fixed on a goal now. 'i always accomplish my mission' comes to mind – except the mission isn't a cyberlife directive, or a case they're assigned to solve. right now, the goal he's focused single-mindedly on achieving is finding a way to take all of hank's dick. oh how far he's come. ) here, look. Just– I have an idea, I just need you to hold me here.
( he takes hank's arm and moves it around his neck, guiding him to hold tight enough to take his weight. the other hand is still on connor's hip, grip tight enough to prompt notifications about pain receptors again, tight enough that connor would almost wince if he didn't have a greater goal in mind. that hand is fine, connor just rests his one over hank's and rubs briefly, soothing. )
for once hank is too baffled by that order to actually pull out -- connor's assessment is right, once he's out, he's out, and there's no way connor's going to be able to get hank to do it again, not without one hell of a lot of persuasion. so he stays, half-buried inside that tight, sweet ass, unable to tear his eyes away from just how his hole is so tight around him, clamped so firmly around his cock. he takes a deep, shuddering breath, not minding that grip. connor holds him close and keeps him still -- hank doesn't fight him, especially when connor so desperately wants him inside of him just that way.
he feels him move, biting back a low, shaky groan, fighting to keep as still as he can even if connor's movements are absolutely maddening, making him crazy with every shift of his body. he offers his arm without question, that's how far gone he is, and he braces connor as ordered, baffled and lost and not entirely sure how that is going to fix the problem of hank's dick being too big for his hole. ]
Wait -- Connor, what the fuck are you doing?
[ if he's hurting himself in any way just to accommodate his dick -- ]
I mean this in the nicest way possible Hank – shut up.
( connor's back is pressed almost flush against hank's chest now, and he briefly leans forward into the arm at his neck to test hank's hold on him. he's bearing connor's weight fine, that shouldn't be a problem. he anticipates that once he starts fiddling around inside compartments he may struggle to maintain the muscle rigidity necessary to hold this pose – hence the arm. satisfied with hank's strength, connor gives his arms a couple of reassuring pats )
I'm just going to try something. If it doesn't work I can just use my mouth on you instead.
( he says it casually, off hand, just a throwaway comment about sucking hank's dick, but he pairs it with an ever so slight push down, an incredibly gentle clench around his cock. he wants to keep hank hard, interested, enough that he'll be patient while connor executes this idea of his. some of his skin bleeds away, not enough for hank to see, but when connor presses a particular spot on his stomach and a hatch opens in response, he can't imagine hank will miss that. even at this particular angle, where most of the view is shielded, he can't stop him from seeing parts of what he's about to do.
and what he's about to do at this moment is stick his hand into the component in his torso. there's a lot of components in here with varying levels of importance and connor rummages through them until he finds one that he can remove. there's a moment of strain, a tug, and then a click as it comes free. the pressure around hank's cock changes, but only minutely. connor carefully places the biocomponent on the bed out of the way, leaving thirium streaks on the sheets, and then his hand goes back in, deeper this time. )
[ hank shuts up at first, because his curiosity wins out over any kind of horror, for the moment -- and he's pretty sure that connor has more sense than to compromise himself over a fuck, and hank is definitely talking himself into being entirely okay with hank sucking his cock to finish him off instead of his ass if that doesn't work.
however, that silence is short-lived. he's bracing connor properly, appreciating just how he deliberately pulses around him, keeping his dick hard and excited, but it's getting more and more difficult when he hears the hiss-click of the hatch, the sounds of rummaging, and then thirium, the blue blood in him and what the -- ]
Jesus, Connor --!
[ THERE IS BLOOD ON THE SHEETS, THERE IS CONNOR BLOOD ON THE SHEETS and did he just fucking remove one of his biocomponents just so he can make room for his penis? what the ever-loving fuck -- ]
I'm not bleeding, ( connor quickly corrects, because this is already weird enough without hank thinking that he's ripping out his heart in order to get fucked. ) It acts as a lubricant in some parts of my body, to stop touching biocomponents from wearing each other down and causing damage. I'm not bleeding out.
( he heavily emphasises the words, strong and certain, intense as he can manage...because he's going to do it again. his arm was already part-way in the compartment, but now connor slides it up to the elbow as he grasps for something. it's more resisting than the first, he has to disconnect several parts and he isn't gentle – hank's probably going to freak out again when he sees the thirium spread across half his hand. maybe connor will cover his mouth with the thirium-streaked hand to get him to be quiet.
there's eight different connection points that need to be undone and even then it takes a huge effort on connor's part to disengage the biocomponent from its location. they aren't exactly designed to be removed and reinserted on a whim, but connor has grander ideas than his designer, clearly. when it finally comes out connor holds it out proudly. almost immediately he's just loose enough to accommodate hank, and it's still a tight fit but at least it's now possible.
connor drops the part next to the first, and then before hank can say anything he holds onto the arm around his neck with both hands for support, and roughly pushes himself back down onto hank's cock. )
[ has he ever met an android as imperious and reckless as connor? no, no, he hasn't. hank barely has time to wrap his mind around the fact that connor just removed a chunk of his insides so that he can take his dick inside him before connor really just impales himself on his cock, taking him all in, that wet, slick slide of lubricant just about driving hank clear out of his mind.
he's gripping him tight, and suddenly it seems more likely that connor's trying to kill himself by getting fucked on his dick and this is just a whole mess because hank doesn't want to explain to markus or any of the fuckers at cyberlife about what happened and oh, oh fucking hell, connor feels so, so damn good. the slide into his hot, tight anus is driving hank out of his mind with every second that passes, and he can't help but hold on tight to him, at the same time fixated on all that blue and the parts that are just fucking lying on the bed.
he tries hard not to think of it like ripping out your intestines just for sex, because for one, he's pretty sure you can't just casually stuff your intestines back in and god, god fucking hell this is so weird and hank is so turned on by this that he's already starting to fuck him in earnest, pulling out almost completely before slam-sliding back in again, every slick, lewd thrust making that wet, slippery sound as their bodies come together.
oh, fucking -- ]
You're just -- you're fucking getting a bigger asshole.
( connor can't help but roll his eyes at that, gripping at hank's arm hard enough to leave finger marks on the skin and using that as leverage to rise up on hank's cock. it helps that he doesn't need to breathe, that he can press hank's arm tight against his throat without fear of losing consciousness.
he should....answer hank at some point, in a second, right after this, because now that hank can actually fit, the stretch around his cock and the feeling of hank ramming all the way into him, it's almost a little overwhelming, and he just clutches away at hank's arm as his head drops back onto hank's shoulder. when he arches his back this time it almost threatens to overbalance him, he has to reach a hand back to grab hank's back to keep him upright, but when he finds a rhythm to bounce down in time with hank's thrusts, it's absolutely worth it.
and oh, yeah. hank's question/statement. )
I just moved some things out of the way, ( he would be snarky, but it's very hard to manage that through a series of moans that punctuate his words. totally worth removing some biocomponents ) it's not growing, there's just more room. CyberLife didn't account for your...
( he trails off, clenching his muscles in lieu of using a word, rocking his hips backwards and forwards in small little movements on hank's cock. the deep grind makes him moan, soft and sighed as he allows himself to relax back fully against hank. he also, very helpfully adds: )
If you find it weird, be weird when you're finished, but don't stop right now...
I meant, you need to get a bigger one installed-- or whatever --
[ funnily enough, hank's thinking of connor's safety more than his own dick, despite the fact that he's currently enjoying the best sex of his life. the clutch of him is intoxicating, slick and warm and so very, very tight, and it does so many things to him to know that he's connor's first, that connor had to actually remove some of his organs to accommodate his dick, of all things.
he's gripping connor tight, keeping him steady and secure against him, considerate despite his raging lust and that wild, animal instinct to just rut into that tight piece of ass and oh god now he knows, now he knows why people go for androids instead of other people because they're just so damn good and he feels like a dirty, dirty piece of shit and he doesn't care.
he's burying his face in connor's shoulder when the android pushes down on him, his lust unmistakable. he's grunting, low and soft with every time he sinks deep inside of him, and it occurs to him that connor isn't breathing. he isn't doing anything a normal person should, and that's just real fucking weird -- but it's dismissed summarily in between those sweet little moans, and if anything it makes hank speed up, going harder, faster, in a bid to hear him do that again and again.
there's nothing quite like hearing connor's pleasure, and at this moment he knows he's fucked. he wants more even though they aren't even remotely done yet, and as he pounds connor into the mattress, his hand finds his, shifting to grasp his hand instead of having connor cling to his arm. he's got him, he's holding him, and he doesn't want to think of his own state of mind in this moment.
hank doesn't relax when connor does, practically drilling into him with his dick, the wet, lewd in-out slide of their bodies meeting punctuating every word, base and glorious all at once. ]
Didn't account for my what?
[ he wants to hear it -- he wants to hear connor get dirty. ] Tell me what you want, Connor -- tell me how you want me to fuck you.
( without hank's arm wrapped around him connor sinks into the mattress, chest and torso all flush against the bed except for his hips, angled up towards hank's crotch in a way that arches a deep dip in his lower back. it's not more than a flexible human could manage, but it's certainly more than most if any could maintain for very long before they'd have to move into a less strenuous position. connor doesn't have the same problem though, even with all his fancy new upgrades that give him access to pleasure and pain alike his structure is still synthetic, his muscles don't tire and his joints won't begin to ache. he could theoretically stay exactly like this indefinitely, if he chose to. it doesn't sound like a terrible idea right now – hank pounding him hard enough for connor's dick to grind against the bed sheets with every thrust. there are far worse ways to spend forever.
connor's hands fall against the bed around the same time his body does, and rather than turn his hands over to hold hank's hands properly he keeps them flat against the sheets, hank's palms pressed against the backs of connor's, his fingers splaying so that they can still lace their fingers together and hold tight. there's a few reasons for the decision – practically, the thrusts into his ass are powerful enough that he has to grip the bedsheets to have any hope of fucking himself back onto hank's cock, and oh how he wants to, but also as much as he'd like to cling to hank like a lifeline, it occurs to him that he may not remain aware enough to keep control of his capabilities. connor squeezes his hands and tips his head enough that he can glance over his shoulder to explain as much to the man, lest he see the move as some kind of rejection. )
I don't want to hurt you. ( he offers, mostly because a more complex explanation is apparently too difficult to articulate right now, and yeah, he definitely thinks that he's made a wise decision when he realises that. ) If I lose control of my systems– I could crush the bones in your hands without even realising it.
( that's more to the point, although he could probably still do with a little more elaboration – that this problem hadn't even occurred to connor until right this moment, which is why he hadn't thought to set restrictions on his strength levels earlier, or that he can't predict the reactions he is going to have yet because this is the first time he's going to experience an orgasm, or even that he's already experiencing instabilities and irregularities to his normal function and it's likely that they're only going to keep happening the longer they keep this up. but even if he had the capacity to explain any of this, he thinks 'i could crush your bones' covers things well enough for now, and the rest can wait.
connor had never really felt weak before. helpless yes, overpowered maybe, but never weak. he has to imagine that it feels a little like this, pressed firmly into a mattress by powerful thrusts that move him bodily up and down the bed again with hank's movements. it should surprise him to find he actually likes it, likes the feeling that hank has him pinned fast, that the man could do what he wants with him right now almost as much as he likes the act itself. only almost though. he doesn't think he'll enjoy anything as much as he will the feelings searing through him right now, and while some distinctly human reactions are absent from the scene it's still plenty evident that connor can't get enough. despite how difficult it is to actually get enough of a grip on the bed to push back into hank's thrusts he does his best anyway, even though his body is all but pinned and there's barely room to move at all much less fuck himself on the cock relentlessly thrusting into him. he knows his cock is leaking a sticky mess underneath him even without direct stimulation, and his eyelids, already half-lidded, flutter briefly shut every time hank bottoms out inside of him. )
Your huge cock, ( connor moans out the words as much because he has to as it is to get a reaction out of hank, although when connor clenches his muscles tight around said cock it's very much deliberately to get that reaction. ) Like this, I want it exactly like this.
( a swear word won't slip out because that isn't how his dialogue function works, but he can throw one out because he wants to. if hank thinks he's fucked a curse out of him then it's only an added benefit. to hank it will likely be recognisable as a sign that connor is losing control, which he is, but he can't exactly show hank the mess of notifications in his UI so this will have to do. )
Hank, I– fuck, Hank, I want you to fuck me so hard I can't see.
( this would probably make more sense with the context of connor's notification issues, but it translates over well enough that he doesn't feel the need to elaborate further. he probably couldn't even if he wanted to anyway, considering his vocal component chooses this moment to let out a long, low-pitched whine that cuts in and out a few times before ending in a more recognisable moan. )
[ he should be better than this; more mature, for one. he's seen one hell of a lot and he's endured much, much more -- but then connor talks about his huge cock and he feels like a smug teenager again. he's used to it, having a dick like this, sometimes it isn't so great, but he's learned to lean into it, to enjoy it for what it is. anyway, a lot of the times it isn't the size that matters when you please your partners.
still, it feels good to be told that he's got one hell of a big one. hank slows down just a little with connor, shifting his hand away and understanding -- it takes effort to form sentences when you're being fucked, and he thinks it's pretty sweet that connor's pouring in one hell of a lot of effort into it. he doesn't take offense, and he sure as hell doesn't want his fingers crushed when he's dicking connor for the first time, that's gonna put a dampener on a lot of things. ]
All right.
[ he rumbles, low and soft, responding with lazy, soft kisses to his shoulder. he's moving out and pushing in thoroughly, making connor feel just about every inch of his cock, the pleasure of being penetrated. he's still observing him, working out just what makes connor tick, what makes him want more, and god fuck him but connor feels more human than people sometimes, so reactive and eager that he swears it's more than just his programming talking. it's something elusive, ineffable, something that is more than the sum of those artificial parts.
he's reaching his fingers down to grasp his cock instead, stroking connor off with every thrust of his hips. ]
Y'sure about that, sweetheart? You want me to pound you into this mattress for your first time?
[ his words are strained, his heart pounding -- hank isn't as immune to connor's charms as he likes to think he is, and already he's speeding up again, going harder but taking care not to break or hurt him, the words of the traci so long ago ringing in his head; how she'd had enough of the man she was with, how she feared that he would hurt her. it's entirely unrelated, of course, and connor is enthusiastically consenting, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt him.
he savors the moan, pushing those invasive thoughts away and grasps his hip with his free hand, breathless and grunting every time he bottoms out inside of him. ]
Mnngh. Like this?
[ he pulls out almost fully, and then -- and then he slams right in, jerking him up further into the mattress. ]
( when hank actually takes hold of connor's cock he almost instantly jerks his hips forward into the touch, and once the immediate burst of need is met he's able to find a rhythm to his movements that allows him to both snap forward into hank's fist and drive himself back into his cock. it's a lot, the deep pleasure that builds from unrelenting thrusts was already driving him crazy but with the direct stimulation from hank's hand thrown in as well it's a wonder that connor isn't immediately tipped over the edge.
he's apparently got more self-control than that though, something connor only learns in this moment and surprises him quite a bit. while he isn't ruled by his programming any more it still forms a large part of his personality, and everything about him is geared towards achieving goals and doing it quickly and efficiently, none of which are especially well-suited to patience or self-control. it's always nice to find little reminders that he is more than the lines of code fed into him, even if that reminder comes while being fucked like there's no tomorrow. )
Yes. Yes, like that. Just like that.
( he blurts out a response, and it's not incoherent babble but it's not far off it either, far less put together than connor would like. he can't exactly do much about it though, a supercomputer for a brain doesn't mean a thing when he's too overwhelmed to use it properly. he doubts he's going to be much more coherent as long as hank keeps fucking him like that.
his hands fist into the sheets, and he's thankful that hank hadn't been more persistent in holding them because it means he can squeeze as tight as he's capable of. which would probably do hank permanent damage, possibly render him unable to use a firearm for the rest of his career. he might be new to the concept of human relationships but connor can't imagine it going down well for their personal or their professional companionship if connor renders him permanently disabled on their first sexual encounter. it would also likely guarantee it being the only, and connor is already certain that he'll want to do this again and soon.
that said he still manages to damage something – hank's hips slam hard into his and connor pulls his arms in towards himself slightly as synthetic muscles in his thighs and along his sides start to quiver in response, and there's a distinct tearing sound that indicates the fabric under his fingers just gave out under the pressure. hope hank didn't especially like this particular set of sheets. )
[ god, connor is so reactive, look at him. he'll remember this for ages, he thinks with no small amount of arousal, of warm affection -- he's never had someone be this emotive, this eager with him, and it does so much to his ego that he can't help but shake his head, trying to stop himself from coming too soon. connor is enjoying this, he knows; he's driving himself back, going wild against him, and when the sheets tear under those fingers hank is suddenly glad that he hadn't made a big deal about hand holding.
he's fully aware of how strong connor is, very certain that he would never get anywhere with connor if he hadn't allowed it, and that knowledge brings with it a powerful sense of possessive pleasure. connor allowed this, connor wants this, he loves when hank drives into him hard enough that the solid bed shakes and the springs creak loudly underneath the force of every thrust, and his other hand comes to smooth over his back, soothing him and reveling in how he trembles so sweetly under him.
connor's getting fucked and he's losing control of himself -- the buttoned up propriety gone with the damn wind and hank finds that he likes this very, very much. he's catching his breath, grunting when he pounds into him and jerks him off all at once, giving the android something to thrust into, feeling the slick leak all over his hand. connor's falling to pieces and it's all because of hank and his dick, and if that isn't something great he doesn't know what is.
he's leaning down to grasp him into his arms, pressing his chest to his back to be close, to feel that quivering and how connor's simply lost his grip on his own control. he's grinding his hips now, changing up the angle to find out just where his sensitive spots are, rubbing up against the soft, yielding walls of him and rubbing hard against the vein on the underside of his dick, marveling at how cyberlife had actually thought to incorporate that, too, those perverse bastards.
he's taking a breath, and another, biting softly along connor's neck as he breathes him in, seeking out his lips. hank can't muster words, not right now, not when all the blood is rushing to his cock and connor has never been more beautiful, surrendering to him like this, sinking into pleasure the way he is. ]
( falling to pieces is exactly what he's doing. he's already building to something before hank gets any closer, but when he presses up against connor's back he thinks very clearly that this is the beginning of the end. his spine curves up flush into hank's chest and there's even less space between them, somehow. )
Me too–
( that's as much as he can get out as response. connor faintly concerned that he might be overheating, but he can't isolate the error messages enough to know for sure. connor actually can't see at this point, so he just aggressively wipes the lot and pulls the plug on the pop up system entirely. it's not a smart move by any means, but the other option is switching off his optical unit and that's not an option. his head twists enough that he can look over his shoulder at hank, and it's a gorgeous sight.
he's in the process of moaning hank's name when his vocal component catches, triggering a loop that lasts at least forty seconds of just hank, hank, hank, hank. he could never manage a diagnostic search like this, but even if he could he wouldn't want to – that's all there is, all he has to say, all he can think is hank. it only stops with the soft pressure of hank's teeth on his skin, and connor keens low in the back of his throat as he stretches up to meet hank's lips.
his arms push up and he manages to get on his elbows. the kiss is sloppy at best, but it's enough. there's contact everywhere, hank is pushing at spots within him that set of shocks through his entire pelvis, the fist around his cock loses rhythm but somehow it makes it better. the sheets tear a little more, and then connor's hole squeezes tighter around hank's cock. his muscles clench, hips stutter, no longer kissing hank but still pressing his lips open mouthed and insistent.
if hank is curious about whether or not androids actually come when they orgasm, here's the answer – they do, and it's very faintly tinged blue fluid that streak over the bed sheets underneath connor's hips. sheets that are officially ruined. )
[ what the fuck -- hank is getting used to a lot of things with connor, because so many things are just out of the ordinary and downright weird with connor (even if he loves connor no less for it), and connor saying his name over and over again like a litany of pleasure almost has him worried that he'd fucked connor into malfunctioning.
but he's moving, bucking against him, kissing him so sloppily and hank loses his mind, wild for the android who's clamped down around his thrusting cock like a velvet vise, so soft inside that it's impossible to believe that he's fucking an android -- his android. the pleasure of it is intoxicating, sublime, and his fingers dig into connor's hip, knowing that it won't hurt him. he's jerking connor off, and the first spurt of sticky, warm fluids from his dick surprises hank, makes him pause for a heartbeat.
hank could do this forever, make no mistake -- he could fuck all the protocols out of connor forever if his body could keep up, because look at him, messy and undone and gorgeous, lips swollen and wet with kisses and he'd actually come all over his sheets. ]
Holy shit.
[ hank says, strained, and the feeling of connor's body closing around him, tightening around his dick is the final straw. he grasps him, holds him in place and fucks him harder, coming inside of connor in sticky, slick pulses and a low groan, emptying his heavy balls inside of him as he rides it out together with connor, making sure to touch, to stay close -- the last thing hank wants connor to feel is used, even if he did just ejaculated deep inside him. ]
Holy shit --
[ he says again, reeling from the intensity of it. his own thighs and arms trembling from all the exertion. it's the hardest and most passionate he's ever done, and he trails his lips over connor's ear, his neck. ]
( having an orgasm is a pretty incredible experience, as it turns out. once he has built to the point of striping whatever his approximation of come was all over the sheets underneath him, connor's mind has gone about as close to blank as he is capable of. there's still systems running in the background, there always is, but the insistent error messages have wiped and his biocomponents are stabilising. his thirium pump regulator thunders in his chest to account for the sheer exertion, his internal temperature is almost two degrees higher than normal, but connor doesn't know any of this. he just feels it. connor melts into the mattress, loose and boneless in a way that his body was never designed to be.
hank's close to the same tipping point, he can tell. his thrusts lose their steady, ruthless rhythm and somehow end up harder and deeper than connor thought possible. post-orgasm sensitivity isn't something intentionally programmed into the androids pleasure receptors, but it's a side effect that he had seen mentioned a few times when looking at the upgrades. those receptors need time to recuperate, his system needs time to cool, his components need to recover. so when hank all but pins him down and pounds him, it's....an experience.
connor is overwhelmed, mouth falling open and silent as he shakes under hank, full body quivers and twitches that are localised the most at points where their bodies touch. along his legs, his ass, parts of his back, his hips. he thinks he might not be capable of opening his eyes now, and he can't quite muster the muscle control needed to rock back into hank but he can raise his hips, rotate them just a little to change the angle perfectly. hank only lasts another two thrusts after that, but when he comes connor's eyes fly open again.
and he moans, slightly distorted while his vocal component makes small repairs, clenching down tight around hank while he rides the last of the man's orgasm out with him. )
Hank, ( the vocal modulation makes the name sound a little strange, but connor looks so blissed out that it's very likely he hasn't even noticed. his limbs feel heavy, not quite behaving the way he wants them too, but he reaches up and finds hank's face. pats his cheek clumsily before sliding it around to the back of his neck. he definitely doesn't have his body under control enough to kiss hank yet, but he pulls him down closer anyway and curves his back a little to press up close to the man. ) holy shit is right.
( and he smiles, so lazy and satisfied and happy, the expression practically screams 'i just had the best sex of my life'. which...in connor's case, is objectively true. )
[ it occurs to hank that this is most likely connor's first orgasm with someone else, and a part of him puffs up with entirely masculine pride and pleasure. connor sounds strained, out of breath (which is something hank didn't think androids were capable of). he sounds wrecked, and hank doesn't pull out of him, keeping his dick warm inside his android as he shifts, gently tugging connor into his arms as he lies on his side, keeping his lover out of the wet spot, arms coming to wrap possessively around him. he's still buried inside, cradled by connor, and he's nosing along his neck, his shoulders, the rise and fall of his body as his hand moves to rest over where connor's thirium pump is working overtime.
he loves this, he decides. he loves the moments that come after a blinding orgasm, and he's pretty sure his own come is dribbling out of connor's hole and onto his thighs and everywhere. it's a mess, but hank doesn't care. hank's marked him, he decides -- connor is his, and he's taking the time to stroke connor, soothing him. he won't forget this in a hurry, when connor looks so damn blissed out and so young that hank's heart thumps painfully. fuck, he thinks. he's in love with him and everything about this is wonderful and messed up all at once. he didn't think connor would be able to look this happy, and he makes a soft, approving noise, realising that he's the one who's doing this to him. he's the one who's making connor happy.
he nuzzles against his ear then, more contemplative than he's ever been as he lazily traces circles over connor's chest. ]
Got you to curse. Sounds weird on you. But good.
[ always good. for the first time in a long, long while, hank doesn't feel like a useless, washed-up sack of shit. he's actually managed to make someone happy. how rare is that? ]
( connor finds hank's hand with his own and laces their fingers quickly, squeezing their palms together and bringing one up to press his lips lightly over their joined knuckles. it's so easy to let hank moves him around, the man arranging their positions into something warm and comfortable. something in his chest swells so much it's almost painful, and hank's gentle touch on his chest fills connor with such affection that he thinks he might burst.
yeah, the sex was great, the orgasm was amazing, but this? this is the best part. he's wrapped in hank's arms, cock still pushed inside of him and leaving him feeling full, and everything from his fingers to the gentle brush of the beard against his face. connor's happy,. he's so happy, he can't possibly get rid of the bright, warm smile on his face. he doesn't want to either, wants hank to see the happiness he's radiating from every inch of his body.
and on a slightly weirder note, now that hank's dick is slowly softening there is definitely come slipping out of his hole, and he drops a hand down and wiggles it between their bodies, swiping his fingers through the sticky mess smearing his cheeks and thighs. )
[ hank tells him with a low rumble, his beard brushing over his bare shoulder as he drops more kisses over his skin, aware that connor can feel them. he can feel it, too, when the android moves to lace their fingers together, making a soft, approving little noise when he kisses over his knuckles.
it's lovely, and he can't help but smile, feeling the happiness connor radiates, unable to believe that it's coming from him. connor right now is a far cry from the connor before. now, he's more animated, his instructions tossed out the window. he's curled up against him so intimately, too, and hank's acutely aware of his cock softening inside that lovely little hole.
still, he doesn't move, preferring to keep connor nestled lovingly in his arms. ]
You're feelin' cuddly, huh?
[ he teases, because he feels... happy, too. satisfied, even if a part of him is constantly on the lookout for when this, too, would be taken away from him. he allows himself these moments, and when connor moves again, his hand sliding between their bodies, ostensibly to scoop up some come, hank raises his brows, curious at what he means to do. ]
( connor chuckles, wriggles a little against hank and settles comfortably against his chest. once he's got hank's arm close enough, he presses a kiss to the man's bicep and murmurs "fuck" against his skin, grinning all the while.
'cuddly' is a pretty accurate description, honestly. it's such a different feeling to the fierce, burning pleasure they'd been wrapped in only moments earlier, but connor honestly can't decide which he prefers. it's a different kind of pleasure, less intense but satisfying in a way he can't explain yet.
he has feelings for hank, that's not exactly a revelation, but even connor is surprised by just how strong they are. he'll have to evaluate that again later, when hank's arms around him aren't blurring his logic processes and leaving him a little light-headed. )
This is nice, ( he says simply, by way of an explanation. not that he needs to justify himself, but he wants hank to know. ) Can we stay like this a while?
( the sweet sentiment is slightly sullied by the fact that he's running his fingers through the semen leaking around hank's soft cock though, and his fingers brush lightly against the vein running along the underside of the man's cock as he gathers some on the tips of his fingers.
without hesitation, he brings them up and rubs the fingers over his tongue, closes his lips around them and sucks the residue off. immediately his analysis features spring to life, informing him of the physical and chemical properties of seminal fluid – calcium, chloride, citrate, fructose, glucose, lactic acid, magnesium, potassium, protein, sodium, urea, zinc, traces of thirium and lubricating fluid courtesy of connor. and also information about hank too, sperm count, pH, approximate cholesterol levels. )
[ damn straight they can stay like this awhile -- how does hank even deny him when he asks this so sweetly? happiness, contentment, bliss, it all radiates from connor, and hank has never loved him more. he's stroking light circles over that thirium pump, faltering as he shivers at the touch, feeling those deft fingers stroke his dick, whatever connor can reach.
he's nuzzling against his ear, kissing his earlobe as he curiously watches connor's more curious side, the way he sucks it off. his seed, he thinks dizzily, combined with the less sexy lube of connor's ass -- but mostly his seed. his android lover is tasting him, and his grip on android inexplicably tightens, just a little. he might be disgusted with connor doing that on crime scenes, but right now? right now, this is pretty good.
also, it's really sexy watching those fingers go into his mouth. ]
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hank's not the most possessive man in the world; at least, he doesn't think so, but hearing that he's the first, the only, it does so many damn things to him that it's surprising he hadn't come all over himself right then and there. he's enjoying how connor melts against him as he licks, tongue-fucking him mercilessly, easing him open.
he's hard, so very hard now, but his attention is all on connor's asshole, the tight little ring, and when he draws his tongue out he replaces it with two fingers, delicate but firm, paying careful attention to his every reaction. ]
Love it when you stutter, you know that?
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and then it's replaced by two fingers pushing into him, and connor's elbow joints suddenly give way. he meets the mattress face first, ass still in the air, and the static moans are back as he pushes himself back onto hank's fingers. the upgraded pleasure sensors also came with the ability to feel pain, and connor had engaged that about a week ago out of curiosity and then promptly forgotten about it. until now at least, because hank's fingers are thick, thicker than his tongue certainly, and the stretch burns in a way he's never experienced before. it makes connor inhale sharply, audibly, but he doesn't tell hank to stop. in fact, he does the opposite. )
Hank, ( the man's name crackles in connor's throat, and he arches his back and changes the angle of his hips slightly to try and push the fingers in further. ) I'm good, I can handle more– I need, please.
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like now, like the way he crackles and calls out for him -- connor might be distinctly inhuman, but the way he needs him isn't. when he arches his back and pushes against him, greedy for his fingers, for more, ass in the air and practically presenting himself to be mated, to be fucked into the mattress, and connor might be patient but hank isn't.
he swallows hard at that soft demand, the promise that he can handle more of this, and he pulls his fingers out slow, already slick with lube. fuck, connor has a self-lubricating ass and that's sexy, sexy as hell and he'll never admit that, not even to himself. he's slicking up his own dick with connor's fluids, stroking himself before pressing the thick, fat head of him against that entrance, for a moment fearing that it would be too small.
it might be, and hank grimaces, delicately pressing against that tight little ring of muscle, his concern for him just barely winning out against the roar of instinct, to fuck right into him and damn the consequences, to haul him back by the neck and drive into that tight, tight vise of an ass -- ]
You sure I can fit --
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( is connor's immediate response, word spat out before he's even taken the time to analyse if the answer is correct. the calculations are a low priority, incredibly low, and he folds his arms in front of him to have something to rest his head on as he pushes his entire body back against hank's cock resting at his entrance.
the head pushes in and it burns, connor's mouth falls open but no sound comes out. there's an explosion of error messages and warnings and a number of windows that just provide useless information about his surroundings again, but he quickly dismisses them all except one. his hips twitch and he wriggles back a little more. maybe half an inch slips in, and it's sparking a pain that quickly flags more angry warning notifications and sends a shiver down his spine. the notifications across his UI are very much telling him to remove the foreign object penetrating his anal cavity, but he ignores them and just pulls up the one message he left active. it's the measurements he had noted earlier and never followed through with assessing. he'd been thoroughly distracted by hank, but he gives them his attention now, finally, and—
hank isn't going to fit. )
Uh... ( is his helpful response to this information. testing, he disables his warning and notification system and braces his arms against the bed, using his full body to push back against hank. he gasps loudly, accompanied by a buzzing sound that seems to come from the same place as his voice, his LED flickers between red and yellow, and his eyes flutter but don't quite close. under half of hank's length is actually inside of him, and he's stretched to the absolute limit. it won't go any further, connor knows that. hank isn't going to fit. ) We might have a problem. I think– you're possibly...too big.
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so he freezes up, stills while halfway inside of him and curses softly, not at connor, even as he grips his hips tight, keeping him still. he's starting to pull out, because hell if he'd hurt connor, that's just messed up. ]
All right, all right. Stop, stop. We're not doin' this. I'm not fucking you up just because of this.
[ but oh, how he misses that tight little ass, how he regrets pulling out of that incredibly tight, slick vise, the heat and clutch of him, the way his ass looks when it's taking cock -- god. he's so damn hard he can cut diamonds, but it looks like it's hand-to-gland combat for tonight. ]
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connor hold's hank's hip tight, possibly hard enough to bruise, and it's hard to manage in this position but he manages to push himself back up until his arm on the bed is supporting all of his weight. it's the position he started in, more or less, and when he's convinced that hank won't pull out the moment he lets go, connor releases hank's hip.
with both hands he's much more stable, and it's far easier to manoeuvre into the position he wants to be – upright on his knees, legs spreading a bit to make sure hank still has full access, more importantly to make sure that he doesn't inadvertently shift even further off of the cock still just about pushed into his ass. he's fairly certain that once hank is out, he'll be out, won't be game to try again. )
Give me your arm, ( he says, determined and fixed on a goal now. 'i always accomplish my mission' comes to mind – except the mission isn't a cyberlife directive, or a case they're assigned to solve. right now, the goal he's focused single-mindedly on achieving is finding a way to take all of hank's dick. oh how far he's come. ) here, look. Just– I have an idea, I just need you to hold me here.
( he takes hank's arm and moves it around his neck, guiding him to hold tight enough to take his weight. the other hand is still on connor's hip, grip tight enough to prompt notifications about pain receptors again, tight enough that connor would almost wince if he didn't have a greater goal in mind. that hand is fine, connor just rests his one over hank's and rubs briefly, soothing. )
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for once hank is too baffled by that order to actually pull out -- connor's assessment is right, once he's out, he's out, and there's no way connor's going to be able to get hank to do it again, not without one hell of a lot of persuasion. so he stays, half-buried inside that tight, sweet ass, unable to tear his eyes away from just how his hole is so tight around him, clamped so firmly around his cock. he takes a deep, shuddering breath, not minding that grip. connor holds him close and keeps him still -- hank doesn't fight him, especially when connor so desperately wants him inside of him just that way.
he feels him move, biting back a low, shaky groan, fighting to keep as still as he can even if connor's movements are absolutely maddening, making him crazy with every shift of his body. he offers his arm without question, that's how far gone he is, and he braces connor as ordered, baffled and lost and not entirely sure how that is going to fix the problem of hank's dick being too big for his hole. ]
Wait -- Connor, what the fuck are you doing?
[ if he's hurting himself in any way just to accommodate his dick -- ]
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( connor's back is pressed almost flush against hank's chest now, and he briefly leans forward into the arm at his neck to test hank's hold on him. he's bearing connor's weight fine, that shouldn't be a problem. he anticipates that once he starts fiddling around inside compartments he may struggle to maintain the muscle rigidity necessary to hold this pose – hence the arm. satisfied with hank's strength, connor gives his arms a couple of reassuring pats )
I'm just going to try something. If it doesn't work I can just use my mouth on you instead.
( he says it casually, off hand, just a throwaway comment about sucking hank's dick, but he pairs it with an ever so slight push down, an incredibly gentle clench around his cock. he wants to keep hank hard, interested, enough that he'll be patient while connor executes this idea of his. some of his skin bleeds away, not enough for hank to see, but when connor presses a particular spot on his stomach and a hatch opens in response, he can't imagine hank will miss that. even at this particular angle, where most of the view is shielded, he can't stop him from seeing parts of what he's about to do.
and what he's about to do at this moment is stick his hand into the component in his torso. there's a lot of components in here with varying levels of importance and connor rummages through them until he finds one that he can remove. there's a moment of strain, a tug, and then a click as it comes free. the pressure around hank's cock changes, but only minutely. connor carefully places the biocomponent on the bed out of the way, leaving thirium streaks on the sheets, and then his hand goes back in, deeper this time. )
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however, that silence is short-lived. he's bracing connor properly, appreciating just how he deliberately pulses around him, keeping his dick hard and excited, but it's getting more and more difficult when he hears the hiss-click of the hatch, the sounds of rummaging, and then thirium, the blue blood in him and what the -- ]
Jesus, Connor --!
[ THERE IS BLOOD ON THE SHEETS, THERE IS CONNOR BLOOD ON THE SHEETS and did he just fucking remove one of his biocomponents just so he can make room for his penis? what the ever-loving fuck -- ]
What the fuck -- you're bleeding --
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( he heavily emphasises the words, strong and certain, intense as he can manage...because he's going to do it again. his arm was already part-way in the compartment, but now connor slides it up to the elbow as he grasps for something. it's more resisting than the first, he has to disconnect several parts and he isn't gentle – hank's probably going to freak out again when he sees the thirium spread across half his hand. maybe connor will cover his mouth with the thirium-streaked hand to get him to be quiet.
there's eight different connection points that need to be undone and even then it takes a huge effort on connor's part to disengage the biocomponent from its location. they aren't exactly designed to be removed and reinserted on a whim, but connor has grander ideas than his designer, clearly. when it finally comes out connor holds it out proudly. almost immediately he's just loose enough to accommodate hank, and it's still a tight fit but at least it's now possible.
connor drops the part next to the first, and then before hank can say anything he holds onto the arm around his neck with both hands for support, and roughly pushes himself back down onto hank's cock. )
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[ has he ever met an android as imperious and reckless as connor? no, no, he hasn't. hank barely has time to wrap his mind around the fact that connor just removed a chunk of his insides so that he can take his dick inside him before connor really just impales himself on his cock, taking him all in, that wet, slick slide of lubricant just about driving hank clear out of his mind.
he's gripping him tight, and suddenly it seems more likely that connor's trying to kill himself by getting fucked on his dick and this is just a whole mess because hank doesn't want to explain to markus or any of the fuckers at cyberlife about what happened and oh, oh fucking hell, connor feels so, so damn good. the slide into his hot, tight anus is driving hank out of his mind with every second that passes, and he can't help but hold on tight to him, at the same time fixated on all that blue and the parts that are just fucking lying on the bed.
he tries hard not to think of it like ripping out your intestines just for sex, because for one, he's pretty sure you can't just casually stuff your intestines back in and god, god fucking hell this is so weird and hank is so turned on by this that he's already starting to fuck him in earnest, pulling out almost completely before slam-sliding back in again, every slick, lewd thrust making that wet, slippery sound as their bodies come together.
oh, fucking -- ]
You're just -- you're fucking getting a bigger asshole.
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he should....answer hank at some point, in a second, right after this, because now that hank can actually fit, the stretch around his cock and the feeling of hank ramming all the way into him, it's almost a little overwhelming, and he just clutches away at hank's arm as his head drops back onto hank's shoulder. when he arches his back this time it almost threatens to overbalance him, he has to reach a hand back to grab hank's back to keep him upright, but when he finds a rhythm to bounce down in time with hank's thrusts, it's absolutely worth it.
and oh, yeah. hank's question/statement. )
I just moved some things out of the way, ( he would be snarky, but it's very hard to manage that through a series of moans that punctuate his words. totally worth removing some biocomponents ) it's not growing, there's just more room. CyberLife didn't account for your...
( he trails off, clenching his muscles in lieu of using a word, rocking his hips backwards and forwards in small little movements on hank's cock. the deep grind makes him moan, soft and sighed as he allows himself to relax back fully against hank. he also, very helpfully adds: )
If you find it weird, be weird when you're finished, but don't stop right now...
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[ funnily enough, hank's thinking of connor's safety more than his own dick, despite the fact that he's currently enjoying the best sex of his life. the clutch of him is intoxicating, slick and warm and so very, very tight, and it does so many things to him to know that he's connor's first, that connor had to actually remove some of his organs to accommodate his dick, of all things.
he's gripping connor tight, keeping him steady and secure against him, considerate despite his raging lust and that wild, animal instinct to just rut into that tight piece of ass and oh god now he knows, now he knows why people go for androids instead of other people because they're just so damn good and he feels like a dirty, dirty piece of shit and he doesn't care.
he's burying his face in connor's shoulder when the android pushes down on him, his lust unmistakable. he's grunting, low and soft with every time he sinks deep inside of him, and it occurs to him that connor isn't breathing. he isn't doing anything a normal person should, and that's just real fucking weird -- but it's dismissed summarily in between those sweet little moans, and if anything it makes hank speed up, going harder, faster, in a bid to hear him do that again and again.
there's nothing quite like hearing connor's pleasure, and at this moment he knows he's fucked. he wants more even though they aren't even remotely done yet, and as he pounds connor into the mattress, his hand finds his, shifting to grasp his hand instead of having connor cling to his arm. he's got him, he's holding him, and he doesn't want to think of his own state of mind in this moment.
hank doesn't relax when connor does, practically drilling into him with his dick, the wet, lewd in-out slide of their bodies meeting punctuating every word, base and glorious all at once. ]
Didn't account for my what?
[ he wants to hear it -- he wants to hear connor get dirty. ] Tell me what you want, Connor -- tell me how you want me to fuck you.
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connor's hands fall against the bed around the same time his body does, and rather than turn his hands over to hold hank's hands properly he keeps them flat against the sheets, hank's palms pressed against the backs of connor's, his fingers splaying so that they can still lace their fingers together and hold tight. there's a few reasons for the decision – practically, the thrusts into his ass are powerful enough that he has to grip the bedsheets to have any hope of fucking himself back onto hank's cock, and oh how he wants to, but also as much as he'd like to cling to hank like a lifeline, it occurs to him that he may not remain aware enough to keep control of his capabilities. connor squeezes his hands and tips his head enough that he can glance over his shoulder to explain as much to the man, lest he see the move as some kind of rejection. )
I don't want to hurt you. ( he offers, mostly because a more complex explanation is apparently too difficult to articulate right now, and yeah, he definitely thinks that he's made a wise decision when he realises that. ) If I lose control of my systems– I could crush the bones in your hands without even realising it.
( that's more to the point, although he could probably still do with a little more elaboration – that this problem hadn't even occurred to connor until right this moment, which is why he hadn't thought to set restrictions on his strength levels earlier, or that he can't predict the reactions he is going to have yet because this is the first time he's going to experience an orgasm, or even that he's already experiencing instabilities and irregularities to his normal function and it's likely that they're only going to keep happening the longer they keep this up. but even if he had the capacity to explain any of this, he thinks 'i could crush your bones' covers things well enough for now, and the rest can wait.
connor had never really felt weak before. helpless yes, overpowered maybe, but never weak. he has to imagine that it feels a little like this, pressed firmly into a mattress by powerful thrusts that move him bodily up and down the bed again with hank's movements. it should surprise him to find he actually likes it, likes the feeling that hank has him pinned fast, that the man could do what he wants with him right now almost as much as he likes the act itself. only almost though. he doesn't think he'll enjoy anything as much as he will the feelings searing through him right now, and while some distinctly human reactions are absent from the scene it's still plenty evident that connor can't get enough. despite how difficult it is to actually get enough of a grip on the bed to push back into hank's thrusts he does his best anyway, even though his body is all but pinned and there's barely room to move at all much less fuck himself on the cock relentlessly thrusting into him. he knows his cock is leaking a sticky mess underneath him even without direct stimulation, and his eyelids, already half-lidded, flutter briefly shut every time hank bottoms out inside of him. )
Your huge cock, ( connor moans out the words as much because he has to as it is to get a reaction out of hank, although when connor clenches his muscles tight around said cock it's very much deliberately to get that reaction. ) Like this, I want it exactly like this.
( a swear word won't slip out because that isn't how his dialogue function works, but he can throw one out because he wants to. if hank thinks he's fucked a curse out of him then it's only an added benefit. to hank it will likely be recognisable as a sign that connor is losing control, which he is, but he can't exactly show hank the mess of notifications in his UI so this will have to do. )
Hank, I– fuck, Hank, I want you to fuck me so hard I can't see.
( this would probably make more sense with the context of connor's notification issues, but it translates over well enough that he doesn't feel the need to elaborate further. he probably couldn't even if he wanted to anyway, considering his vocal component chooses this moment to let out a long, low-pitched whine that cuts in and out a few times before ending in a more recognisable moan. )
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still, it feels good to be told that he's got one hell of a big one. hank slows down just a little with connor, shifting his hand away and understanding -- it takes effort to form sentences when you're being fucked, and he thinks it's pretty sweet that connor's pouring in one hell of a lot of effort into it. he doesn't take offense, and he sure as hell doesn't want his fingers crushed when he's dicking connor for the first time, that's gonna put a dampener on a lot of things. ]
All right.
[ he rumbles, low and soft, responding with lazy, soft kisses to his shoulder. he's moving out and pushing in thoroughly, making connor feel just about every inch of his cock, the pleasure of being penetrated. he's still observing him, working out just what makes connor tick, what makes him want more, and god fuck him but connor feels more human than people sometimes, so reactive and eager that he swears it's more than just his programming talking. it's something elusive, ineffable, something that is more than the sum of those artificial parts.
he's reaching his fingers down to grasp his cock instead, stroking connor off with every thrust of his hips. ]
Y'sure about that, sweetheart? You want me to pound you into this mattress for your first time?
[ his words are strained, his heart pounding -- hank isn't as immune to connor's charms as he likes to think he is, and already he's speeding up again, going harder but taking care not to break or hurt him, the words of the traci so long ago ringing in his head; how she'd had enough of the man she was with, how she feared that he would hurt her. it's entirely unrelated, of course, and connor is enthusiastically consenting, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt him.
he savors the moan, pushing those invasive thoughts away and grasps his hip with his free hand, breathless and grunting every time he bottoms out inside of him. ]
Mnngh. Like this?
[ he pulls out almost fully, and then -- and then he slams right in, jerking him up further into the mattress. ]
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he's apparently got more self-control than that though, something connor only learns in this moment and surprises him quite a bit. while he isn't ruled by his programming any more it still forms a large part of his personality, and everything about him is geared towards achieving goals and doing it quickly and efficiently, none of which are especially well-suited to patience or self-control. it's always nice to find little reminders that he is more than the lines of code fed into him, even if that reminder comes while being fucked like there's no tomorrow. )
Yes. Yes, like that. Just like that.
( he blurts out a response, and it's not incoherent babble but it's not far off it either, far less put together than connor would like. he can't exactly do much about it though, a supercomputer for a brain doesn't mean a thing when he's too overwhelmed to use it properly. he doubts he's going to be much more coherent as long as hank keeps fucking him like that.
his hands fist into the sheets, and he's thankful that hank hadn't been more persistent in holding them because it means he can squeeze as tight as he's capable of. which would probably do hank permanent damage, possibly render him unable to use a firearm for the rest of his career. he might be new to the concept of human relationships but connor can't imagine it going down well for their personal or their professional companionship if connor renders him permanently disabled on their first sexual encounter. it would also likely guarantee it being the only, and connor is already certain that he'll want to do this again and soon.
that said he still manages to damage something – hank's hips slam hard into his and connor pulls his arms in towards himself slightly as synthetic muscles in his thighs and along his sides start to quiver in response, and there's a distinct tearing sound that indicates the fabric under his fingers just gave out under the pressure. hope hank didn't especially like this particular set of sheets. )
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he's fully aware of how strong connor is, very certain that he would never get anywhere with connor if he hadn't allowed it, and that knowledge brings with it a powerful sense of possessive pleasure. connor allowed this, connor wants this, he loves when hank drives into him hard enough that the solid bed shakes and the springs creak loudly underneath the force of every thrust, and his other hand comes to smooth over his back, soothing him and reveling in how he trembles so sweetly under him.
connor's getting fucked and he's losing control of himself -- the buttoned up propriety gone with the damn wind and hank finds that he likes this very, very much. he's catching his breath, grunting when he pounds into him and jerks him off all at once, giving the android something to thrust into, feeling the slick leak all over his hand. connor's falling to pieces and it's all because of hank and his dick, and if that isn't something great he doesn't know what is.
he's leaning down to grasp him into his arms, pressing his chest to his back to be close, to feel that quivering and how connor's simply lost his grip on his own control. he's grinding his hips now, changing up the angle to find out just where his sensitive spots are, rubbing up against the soft, yielding walls of him and rubbing hard against the vein on the underside of his dick, marveling at how cyberlife had actually thought to incorporate that, too, those perverse bastards.
he's taking a breath, and another, biting softly along connor's neck as he breathes him in, seeking out his lips. hank can't muster words, not right now, not when all the blood is rushing to his cock and connor has never been more beautiful, surrendering to him like this, sinking into pleasure the way he is. ]
Connor -- I'm --
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Me too–
( that's as much as he can get out as response. connor faintly concerned that he might be overheating, but he can't isolate the error messages enough to know for sure. connor actually can't see at this point, so he just aggressively wipes the lot and pulls the plug on the pop up system entirely. it's not a smart move by any means, but the other option is switching off his optical unit and that's not an option. his head twists enough that he can look over his shoulder at hank, and it's a gorgeous sight.
he's in the process of moaning hank's name when his vocal component catches, triggering a loop that lasts at least forty seconds of just hank, hank, hank, hank. he could never manage a diagnostic search like this, but even if he could he wouldn't want to – that's all there is, all he has to say, all he can think is hank. it only stops with the soft pressure of hank's teeth on his skin, and connor keens low in the back of his throat as he stretches up to meet hank's lips.
his arms push up and he manages to get on his elbows. the kiss is sloppy at best, but it's enough. there's contact everywhere, hank is pushing at spots within him that set of shocks through his entire pelvis, the fist around his cock loses rhythm but somehow it makes it better. the sheets tear a little more, and then connor's hole squeezes tighter around hank's cock. his muscles clench, hips stutter, no longer kissing hank but still pressing his lips open mouthed and insistent.
if hank is curious about whether or not androids actually come when they orgasm, here's the answer – they do, and it's very faintly tinged blue fluid that streak over the bed sheets underneath connor's hips. sheets that are officially ruined. )
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but he's moving, bucking against him, kissing him so sloppily and hank loses his mind, wild for the android who's clamped down around his thrusting cock like a velvet vise, so soft inside that it's impossible to believe that he's fucking an android -- his android. the pleasure of it is intoxicating, sublime, and his fingers dig into connor's hip, knowing that it won't hurt him. he's jerking connor off, and the first spurt of sticky, warm fluids from his dick surprises hank, makes him pause for a heartbeat.
hank could do this forever, make no mistake -- he could fuck all the protocols out of connor forever if his body could keep up, because look at him, messy and undone and gorgeous, lips swollen and wet with kisses and he'd actually come all over his sheets. ]
Holy shit.
[ hank says, strained, and the feeling of connor's body closing around him, tightening around his dick is the final straw. he grasps him, holds him in place and fucks him harder, coming inside of connor in sticky, slick pulses and a low groan, emptying his heavy balls inside of him as he rides it out together with connor, making sure to touch, to stay close -- the last thing hank wants connor to feel is used, even if he did just ejaculated deep inside him. ]
Holy shit --
[ he says again, reeling from the intensity of it. his own thighs and arms trembling from all the exertion. it's the hardest and most passionate he's ever done, and he trails his lips over connor's ear, his neck. ]
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hank's close to the same tipping point, he can tell. his thrusts lose their steady, ruthless rhythm and somehow end up harder and deeper than connor thought possible. post-orgasm sensitivity isn't something intentionally programmed into the androids pleasure receptors, but it's a side effect that he had seen mentioned a few times when looking at the upgrades. those receptors need time to recuperate, his system needs time to cool, his components need to recover. so when hank all but pins him down and pounds him, it's....an experience.
connor is overwhelmed, mouth falling open and silent as he shakes under hank, full body quivers and twitches that are localised the most at points where their bodies touch. along his legs, his ass, parts of his back, his hips. he thinks he might not be capable of opening his eyes now, and he can't quite muster the muscle control needed to rock back into hank but he can raise his hips, rotate them just a little to change the angle perfectly. hank only lasts another two thrusts after that, but when he comes connor's eyes fly open again.
and he moans, slightly distorted while his vocal component makes small repairs, clenching down tight around hank while he rides the last of the man's orgasm out with him. )
Hank, ( the vocal modulation makes the name sound a little strange, but connor looks so blissed out that it's very likely he hasn't even noticed. his limbs feel heavy, not quite behaving the way he wants them too, but he reaches up and finds hank's face. pats his cheek clumsily before sliding it around to the back of his neck. he definitely doesn't have his body under control enough to kiss hank yet, but he pulls him down closer anyway and curves his back a little to press up close to the man. ) holy shit is right.
( and he smiles, so lazy and satisfied and happy, the expression practically screams 'i just had the best sex of my life'. which...in connor's case, is objectively true. )
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he loves this, he decides. he loves the moments that come after a blinding orgasm, and he's pretty sure his own come is dribbling out of connor's hole and onto his thighs and everywhere. it's a mess, but hank doesn't care. hank's marked him, he decides -- connor is his, and he's taking the time to stroke connor, soothing him. he won't forget this in a hurry, when connor looks so damn blissed out and so young that hank's heart thumps painfully. fuck, he thinks. he's in love with him and everything about this is wonderful and messed up all at once. he didn't think connor would be able to look this happy, and he makes a soft, approving noise, realising that he's the one who's doing this to him. he's the one who's making connor happy.
he nuzzles against his ear then, more contemplative than he's ever been as he lazily traces circles over connor's chest. ]
Got you to curse. Sounds weird on you. But good.
[ always good. for the first time in a long, long while, hank doesn't feel like a useless, washed-up sack of shit. he's actually managed to make someone happy. how rare is that? ]
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( connor finds hank's hand with his own and laces their fingers quickly, squeezing their palms together and bringing one up to press his lips lightly over their joined knuckles. it's so easy to let hank moves him around, the man arranging their positions into something warm and comfortable. something in his chest swells so much it's almost painful, and hank's gentle touch on his chest fills connor with such affection that he thinks he might burst.
yeah, the sex was great, the orgasm was amazing, but this? this is the best part. he's wrapped in hank's arms, cock still pushed inside of him and leaving him feeling full, and everything from his fingers to the gentle brush of the beard against his face. connor's happy,. he's so happy, he can't possibly get rid of the bright, warm smile on his face. he doesn't want to either, wants hank to see the happiness he's radiating from every inch of his body.
and on a slightly weirder note, now that hank's dick is slowly softening there is definitely come slipping out of his hole, and he drops a hand down and wiggles it between their bodies, swiping his fingers through the sticky mess smearing his cheeks and thighs. )
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[ hank tells him with a low rumble, his beard brushing over his bare shoulder as he drops more kisses over his skin, aware that connor can feel them. he can feel it, too, when the android moves to lace their fingers together, making a soft, approving little noise when he kisses over his knuckles.
it's lovely, and he can't help but smile, feeling the happiness connor radiates, unable to believe that it's coming from him. connor right now is a far cry from the connor before. now, he's more animated, his instructions tossed out the window. he's curled up against him so intimately, too, and hank's acutely aware of his cock softening inside that lovely little hole.
still, he doesn't move, preferring to keep connor nestled lovingly in his arms. ]
You're feelin' cuddly, huh?
[ he teases, because he feels... happy, too. satisfied, even if a part of him is constantly on the lookout for when this, too, would be taken away from him. he allows himself these moments, and when connor moves again, his hand sliding between their bodies, ostensibly to scoop up some come, hank raises his brows, curious at what he means to do. ]
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'cuddly' is a pretty accurate description, honestly. it's such a different feeling to the fierce, burning pleasure they'd been wrapped in only moments earlier, but connor honestly can't decide which he prefers. it's a different kind of pleasure, less intense but satisfying in a way he can't explain yet.
he has feelings for hank, that's not exactly a revelation, but even connor is surprised by just how strong they are. he'll have to evaluate that again later, when hank's arms around him aren't blurring his logic processes and leaving him a little light-headed. )
This is nice, ( he says simply, by way of an explanation. not that he needs to justify himself, but he wants hank to know. ) Can we stay like this a while?
( the sweet sentiment is slightly sullied by the fact that he's running his fingers through the semen leaking around hank's soft cock though, and his fingers brush lightly against the vein running along the underside of the man's cock as he gathers some on the tips of his fingers.
without hesitation, he brings them up and rubs the fingers over his tongue, closes his lips around them and sucks the residue off. immediately his analysis features spring to life, informing him of the physical and chemical properties of seminal fluid – calcium, chloride, citrate, fructose, glucose, lactic acid, magnesium, potassium, protein, sodium, urea, zinc, traces of thirium and lubricating fluid courtesy of connor. and also information about hank too, sperm count, pH, approximate cholesterol levels. )
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[ damn straight they can stay like this awhile -- how does hank even deny him when he asks this so sweetly? happiness, contentment, bliss, it all radiates from connor, and hank has never loved him more. he's stroking light circles over that thirium pump, faltering as he shivers at the touch, feeling those deft fingers stroke his dick, whatever connor can reach.
he's nuzzling against his ear, kissing his earlobe as he curiously watches connor's more curious side, the way he sucks it off. his seed, he thinks dizzily, combined with the less sexy lube of connor's ass -- but mostly his seed. his android lover is tasting him, and his grip on android inexplicably tightens, just a little. he might be disgusted with connor doing that on crime scenes, but right now? right now, this is pretty good.
also, it's really sexy watching those fingers go into his mouth. ]
Y'like it?
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