[ connor is soft and lovely and so very beautiful in just one of his shirts, especially so when he smiles and hank feels his heart skip a beat. it's gentle and tender, and while hank is grasping himself he's in no real hurry to take it to bonetown just yet. he enjoys these moments with connor, to be sure -- when he allows himself to. he enjoys it with him, because it reminds him that not everything has gone to shit, that connor and sumo can be the sole bright spots of his life and maybe that's okay.
sometimes, hank wants to spare him from the sucking black hole that's his life -- now is not one of those nights, and he's nuzzling at him, pinching his ass at that sassy remark. ]
What, I can't plan out a dirty porno of two guys fucking and seduce you into it spontaneously?
[ the sheer depraved, squishing, moaning, whining sounds of the two men are a lurid soundtrack to their moment, but hank doesn't care about that, either -- what matters is connor responding to him, curling up against him and moving his fingers over his scar. he remembers the stories he's told about them, but he's noticed that the android has a fondness for this one, and gods, him touching it does so many things to him. ]
Hey. Hey.
[ softly, he grasps his wrist, guiding it back to his scar. his dick's twitching, and as much as he loves having connor tease him just like that, he likes the attention to the ridged scar tissue, too. ]
Here.
[ it's taken a long while for hank to actually communicate to connor about what feels good, and he's taking baby steps, taking care to show him. ] You remember this one, right?
It's not spontaneous if you've planned it out, that's contradictory. ( connor points out with a little nudge of hank's hip with his own, and his tone is light and amused as he corrects the man, gentle and teasing and paired with a smile on his face that won't seem to leave. sometimes when connor smiles he is activating lines of code to move his facial musculature into a position that outwardly reflects a smiling face, but now the corners of his lips tug up unprompted. deviancy, he thinks. or maybe just hank.
the video doesn't do much for him yet, he casts another few glances as the sounds indicate the men have changed their activity, but the sounds are stirring something. a pop up helpfully informs him that his phallic turgescence is currently at 29% and steadily increasing. he grinds his crotch idly against hank's thigh, and the status bar jumps up to 41%. )
Of course I do.
( connor is literally incapable of forgetting anything, his processing unit built with state of the art technology and featuring a memory capability large enough to store every bit of data currently on earth. twice. so yeah, he remembers their conversations about his scars, but even without that connor would have committed every detail to memory all the same. he saves all of this information in one place, all of the information he has gathered on hank, and he reviews it all every time he assesses the likelihood of his feelings for hank being love.
connor runs his finger along the edge of the scar again, a nail gently dragging along the point where tight raised skin meets the smooth stretch of his stomach. it's slightly darker than the rest of the skin on hank's stomach, long healed but still angry looking. he leans forward, presses a sweet, soft kiss to hank's lips, and then he nudges the sheets down until hank's upper half is completely uncovered. once he's got hank's stomach – and by proxy, his scar – exposed, connor shuffles down until he's low enough in the bed that he can press a kiss right on hank's stomach. if he wants to grind his hips it'll have to be on a calf now, somewhat less appealing than his dick pressed against hank's thigh, but it's a worth sacrifice. )
You're remarkable, do you know that? ( he asks, and his voice is deadly serious. connor moves to run his tongue along the length of the scar and then replaces it with his fingers, pressing and rubbing and digging his nails in just enough that they can be felt. his mouth hovers, and when he breathes against the saliva-approximation fluid left by his tongue it'll feel cooler. connor smiles again, tipping his head back so that he can see hank, pressing a nail in as he starts to speak again. ) This could have killed you – it should have killed you, but you're still here. You've survived so much, Hank.
( it's a little too serious and earnest considering there's the wet slap of balls against an ass in the background, the loud moans of the two men and all of the other un-heartfelt noises that come with pounding a man hard in the ass. but connor doesn't seem to mind, he jut looks at hank with such fondness it's a wonder he doesn't crawl up and kiss him right there.
but he wants to bring things back to the mood hank was in the process of setting, before hank has a chance to respond, or dwell on connor's words too much. so he shifts the laptop next to their side instead, where he had previously been lying, and straddles hank's thighs. if he moves his hips down they'll be able to grind against each other quite nicely, but connor leaves the gap intentionally. he finds hank's eyes, presses a few fingers against different points along the scar, and his other hand seeks out a different scar. similarly deep but not as long, a drunken accident from hank's twenties. this one is raised too, but the flesh is a deep white, significantly paler than the rest of the skin around his clavicle. this one could have easily killed hank too, the proximity to his lung cavity is minute. it would have taken mere minutes for hank to develop a tension pneumothorax, and not much longer for the injury to induce respiratory arrest. without intervention, from the time of injury hank could have been dead in under twenty minutes. but hank was saved by mere millimetres, it was a miracle, and connor traces his finger carefully around the circular shape imprinted just under the collar bone.
You gonna get all sappy on me right now, you kinky deviant?
[ despite the words, hank is impossibly fond, softer than he usually is, his tone betraying the depth of feeling he's inexplicably developed for this beautiful, lovely young man. is he in love? hell if he knows -- he doesn't have a calculator for these things, doesn't parse through them like connor can. but he knows what he likes, and what he likes right now is that smile, soft and genuine and more charming than he's ever noticed, as if something's been flicked on and hank can't quite put his finger on it yet.
they're touching each other with the soundtrack of heavy, sweaty balls slapping against a firm, tight ass, and hank finds that he doesn't give a shit as long as connor's still exploring him, touching his scars, ruminating on the meaning of them. it's impressive what connor remembers, even if the memories have been half-buried, cast aside because up until connor, no one had seen these scars, much less admired them.
so he watches connor, admires him as he lazily pets him, running his fingers through his hair as he turns his attentions from one scar to another, and another. in contrast, hank's noticed that connor has none of his own, not even after the injuries he's suffered. which makes sense, he supposes -- androids can heal and be repaired, restored to their flawless, impeccable selves, and humans can't. they carry their scars with them, up until the day they die. so he simply brushes his thumb over connor's soft lips now, not caring that the porno is set aside for the moment.
no, there's something more important going on here, something more profound than sex or that bear railing his twink six ways from sunday, and he looks up at him, his hands coming to rest on his hips. he's closing the gap connor leaves, never looking away as he grinds up against him, one hand leaving his hip to cup the back of his neck, pulling connor down to him. he's sliding their dicks together, sealing his mouth over his in a long, slow kiss, exploring him languidly before choosing to finally answer. ]
Shoot.
[ ok, so he really does want to know what connor likes -- he wants to know just about everything connor likes, what he doesn't, what he wants more of, what he needs. he's come so damn far with him, he knows he can't turn back now. ]
( connor rolls his eyes at hank for effect, but he's smiling too damn much to be taken seriously at all. there's just a mood about them – it's happy, and connor feels happy, and hank looks happy too, and there's just something so delightful and enjoyable about mutual happiness bubbling out of them at the same time.
it makes it easy to forget the groans in the background for the moment, and he slides his hands up to hank's chest instead. it's a good thing too, because he needs something to stabilise him when hank abruptly tugs him down for a kiss that sends sparks travelling all the way down to his toes. he rocks his hips into hank's and the kiss swallows connor's moan.
his hands grip at hank's chest, fingers digging in lightly for purchase, and he rocks his hips a little harder. when hank finally decides he's more curious than needing to kiss, connor presses a quick closed-lips kiss on hank's mouth. he doesn't move away from hank really, still half-lying across him with his hands on hank's chest as his balance. his hips are still rocking into hank's, admittedly a little slower, but he's dedicating a lot of processors to be able to speak evenly throughout that. )
I like it when you pick me up to press me against the wall, or carry me to the bed. ( he starts, ducking his head and rubbing his cheek against hank's beard lightly. ) I like your hair, the way it feels against my skin. I like that touching your scars made your dick twitch.
( and now he's grinning, amused, and he comes back to kiss hank's mouth again. this time he takes the man's lower lip between his teeth, just nibbling gently. when he releases hank's lip, he reaches a hand up to grasp hank's jaw gently and turn his head towards the laptop screen. ) I like the thought of watching the porn that turns you on while you fuck me.
[ there is something incredibly sexy about connor grasping onto him to keep himself steady -- hank obviously has quite the height and bulk on him, and he's more than happy to be the other's steadying grip, large hands coming to rest on his waist to keep him anchored because god forbid he falls off. not that he will, but whatever.
the mood is infectious, warm and happy and there's a contentment here that hank hasn't felt in two lifetimes, a feeling that he privately fears will be taken from him too because that's what happens when he has something nice for himself, when he experiences profound happiness -- look what happened with his son. but connor isn't cole, connor isn't going to up and leave and slip away from him, and hank turns himself back to the moment, forcing himself to focus.
and perhaps even to begin to wonder if maybe connor is here to stay, after all. he's not immune to the way connor is looking at him, and experience has taught him that these things are too good to be true. connor is too good to be true.
he looks back at him now, as he tells him just what he likes about him, warming his heart in inexplicable ways when he nuzzles and it's all hank can do to nuzzle him close, delighting quietly in that filthy mouth. there's something about connor that he knows he loves, the spark in him that's kept hank impossibly hooked, and even as he kisses him back, hands copping a feel of that tight, glorious ass, he allows his face to be guided to the screen beside him, right where the bear's currently emptying his large, heavy balls into his whimpering twink.
god.
i like you, hanks wants to tell him. i like you, too damn much. ]
You're a regular fuckin' poet.
[ he tells him instead, but he can't help the tremor in his voice, the way his cock is pressed up solidly between both those cheeks, and hank's spreading his ass open, rubbing up against that tight little hole, teasing around the rim of it. his lips throb pleasantly, and he continues. ] So why don't you do it? Click on the next video -- watch that young man fucked into the pew while his bear of a priest nails him with his nine-inch dick after confession.
( it's not often that a dick sliding between asscheeks can be considered romantic, but maybe that itself isn't the romantic part. maybe it's just the atmosphere, just hank, just the result of the affection and connor's feelings – and likely hank's too. he knows that the man reciprocates his feelings, even if hank doesn't often express it verbally. he's much more a man of action, and there's all sorts of ways hank makes it known that he cares – small gestures like thirium in the fridge and affectionate kisses pressed to connor's cheek before they get out of the car for work, and bigger signals too – sharing his bed with connor, telling him about cole.
when he recalls that particular conversation, the percentage makes another jump. 83.9% certainty that connor is in love with hank – good odds, but still not enough to chance saying it. )
Is that what you're into then?
( connor smirks a little at hank before he stretches his arm out to the laptop, clicking the link in question and then bringing the video up to full screen. it only buffers a moment before it loads, the typical scene setting preamble expected of porn beginning to play out in front of them. connor takes the opportunity to look back at hank, fixing his expression into something small and sad and guilty – although there's an amused glint in his eyes that he can't mask. )
Forgive me Father Anderson, for I have sinned.
( he repositions so that he's sitting up again, straddling hank's hips and pressing his hands together in a gesture of prayer. his cock is positioned perfectly to grind against hank's hips lined up nicely, but once he's settled against him connor doesn't move again. he's still working the shameful, guilty look on his face, eyes lowered and head bowed, although his eyes flick up to peer at hank through his lashes occasionally. maybe introducing connor to porn wasn't the best idea for hank. )
It had been three months since my last confession.
( when he says it, it lines up almost perfectly with the young man in the video expressing exactly the same phrase, looking just about as lusty and shameful in equal measure as connor does right now. )
[ for a few blessed moments, hank can only stare at him, slack-jawed by just how seamlessly connor slides into the persona of a lusty, shameful young man on his knees and practically riding his dick, which is right about to stab up against that fine ass any minute now, the way he's going about it.
connor looks appropriately shame-faced, and the way his mouth forms 'father anderson' sends his mind spiralling to many, many places, each and every one more lurid than the last. god, connor armed with the knowledge of a thousand pornos is going to be a menace, especially to his cock, but it's as if his body is vengefully trying to make up for almost ten years of a dry spell, because he's so fucking horny he forgets himself for a moment.
connor, his contrite little sheep, part of his flock, and the sane part of hank's mind checks out of this double-blasphemy forever when he decides to lean into the whole damn thing. he reaches up and grasps his chin, sitting up against the pillows and trying his damndest to affect a pastoral air. which kind of works and is kind of really, really hot. hell, he can really get into this, and his gaze flickers briefly to the porno video playing, the way connor so perfectly emulates the twink so sweetly confession his sins.
god, connor is his very own twink.
he swallows hard, hand coming to stroke over his spine, suddenly so fucking hungry for more, ravenous for this play. his cock twitches, admiring the sweetly innocent beauty of him, how he's even prettier than the one on-screen, and he murmurs. ]
I shall hear your sins, my son.
[ holy shit, this is so fucked up and so hot all at once. ]
( connor had predicted perfectly equal likelihoods of hank laughing hysterically, hank telling him to knock it off, and hank just going for it and had been unbearably curious to find out which way it would go. and it turns out hank is going for it, which is surprising and intriguing mostly because it isn't the one connor would have picked if guessing, but more surprising is that connor finds quite quickly that he's into it. that wasn't his aim when he'd gone down this road, but he sure as hell isn't going to put the brakes on. it's hardly a surprise that they're both as depraved as each other.
when hank sits up, connor settles down a little further into his lap, and the little movement causes his cock to rub against hank's stomach. connor inhales sharply, reacting mostly out of surprise at the unexpected contact. he's tempted to push in closer, but that doesn't exactly fit the guilt-ridden sinner act so much as it does just the last part. instead he keeps himself very still, a remarkable display of self-restraint he thinks, and he meets hank's eyes without any indication of how badly he wants to just push forward and grind his cock against hank's stomach until he comes all over him.
there's probably a little bit of an indication. )
I've been lustful, ( he starts, because it seems appropriate given that it's a pornographic film playing next to them and not a biopic. he can't imagine that the source of arousal is in the accuracy to scripture. ) for someone I shouldn't have these thoughts about.
( it's not verbatim the film script, but a largely similar conversation plays from the laptop speakers. even if connor doesn't watch porn, he came across enough discussion on it to know that it's not exactly known for shock twists or deep dialogue. it's easy enough to predict the general direction that this needs to go. )
[ hank, for another, has very little idea on how shit like this works -- he isn't there for the dialogue, for one, and for another, he's definitely not any sort of christian or believer. he does have a vague idea, however, trying to emulate an approximation of the priest and glancing over at the screen.
he finds that the porno in question isn't as intoxicating or compelling as connor is, especially when he slides down a little more onto his lap, his dick rubbing up against his stomach and he can just see it in those gorgeous, soft brown eyes that connor wants to hump his stomach until he comes, or something. ]
Yeah? And who would that be?
[ hank feels really stupid, playing along like this, but then connor is working up to something, he just knows it, and curiosity wins out over mortification and the desire to guffaw and ruin this play. no, he can't spoil it, not when connor looks so earnest and real, faking the innocence (not all that much faking, for all the depraved things they do, connor really is still sort of innocent), and he's reaching up to run his fingers through connor's hair, mussing it up just a touch. ]
You can tell me your sin. I won't tell a soul.
[ he's pretty sure he's a shitty priest because that's probably not how confession works, but whatever. ]
( that's definitely not how confession works, but if connor thinks as much he doesn't say. the whole thing is definitely funny, but connor has the advantage over hank in that he can literally freeze his expression in place, more or less. he's pretty confident that he won't be the one to break first – and that thought leads to a moment of inspiration.
connor is going to make sure that hank breaks the scene first.
he's never been above playing dirty for the sake of achieving his desired outcome. even before breaking through his programming, connor has always used all of the resources at his disposal in the pursuit of a successful outcome – he'd picked up a gun despite strict laws prohibiting android firearm possession, he'd drilled a vulnerable deviant into a full confession. he'd leapt in the line of bullets and interfaced with a deviant about to commit suicide in the name of finding their location.
now it's a little different, there are moral lines involved and he wouldn't choose to go through with many of those options now – but when there aren't vulnerable, compromised individuals suffering as a result of his choices? absolutely he'll play as dirty as he can get.
his head tips into hank's touch for a brief moment, exhaling a soft sigh as fingers run through his hair, and then he rights himself quickly. averts his eyes guiltily. shifts up onto his knees until they press firmly either side of hank's thighs and there's actually empty space between their crotches. his hands are still pressed together in prayer but now he laces his fingers to clasp his hands together tight, and connor bows his head low until his chin almost touches his chest. he looks ridden with shame, a hard look to manage while naked from the waist down with a hard cock bobbing dangerously close to hank's stomach without any contact, but connor still manages. )
Father Anderson, if I say it I don't think I'll be Forgiven.
( he speaks to his clasped hands, interest in the video – who have apparently skipped confession and gone straight to dick sucking – completely lost in favour of his new target. one way or another, hank's going to break his role first. connor is determined. )
It.....was a man of God. How will you have me repent for my sins?
( and he raises his enough that he can look up at hank, head still bowed and hands still clasped and still upright on his knees. the lack of contact has left his cock straining, twitching slightly as he dwells too long on his anticipation for the moment where hank finally touches him. his dick hasn't seemed to have gotten the shameful guilty memo, but that's fine. )
[ listen, he's not a godly man and he definitely has no idea how confession happens safe for the brief smatterings of it and general deduction. but even hank knows that he's probably butchering it, although he really doesn't have any idea how because the couple onscreen have gotten on with the dicksucking and hank is still marveling at connor, who's so valiantly keeping up with it.
unaware of the wiles his android lover possesses, and the lengths he's going to to win this little game, hank looks up at him, half-torn between laughing out loud (because this is dumb and ridiculous) and continuing because connor's eyes are so soft and the guilt and shame in them does so many terrible, terrible things to him, chief of which goes right to his dick, which is already twitching against his ass.
connor seems to be real into it, too, from the way he can see his dick bobbing, barely even brushing against his stomach. so hank is kind, and reaches out to lightly circle his hand around his cock, deciding to pay it some attention -- and to fuck with connor along the way.
hey, they both can be assholes, right? hank just doesn't yet realise that's what connor is doing. also, he likes the ring of 'father anderson' even though he knows very well that this will probably set him aside as a depraved fucker who should never be in the proximity of any church lest he be struck by lightning. no, he can't take his eyes away from his beautiful young lover, so supple and nubile and so. damn. gorgeous. ]
I'll decide once you show me the magnitude of them.
[ also, the dick sucking is getting real distracting, especially when hank wants nothing more than to do that to connor and watch him fall apart. but no, connor looks like he's really into this and so hank is just going to have to play along and indulge. ]
A man of God? Oh, son. What sins have you committed against such a man?
[ god, that was cheesy and so horrible and lame, and he rubs his thumb against the sensitive little slit of his cock to make up for it -- or distract connor from that terrible line. both. definitely both. ]
( for all connor's determination that he's easily going to outlast hank, when hank's fingers wrap around his cock so gently it takes everything in him not to buck up into the touch, throw the whole silly game of his to the wind and just fuck hank's fist immediately.
he's strong. he's one of the most advanced pieces of technology in existence, he can withstand a little teasing touches. surely.
connor isn't strong enough to stop himself from letting out a muffled moan when hank thumbs at the tip of his cock though, and to make up for it he makes himself look even more guilty at his response. honestly the whole thing is cheesy and lame, but there's no denying that there's something very hot about shame.
( that's probably something they should both be looking at carefully at a later, less sexually charged time, but that's a problem for much later. )
connor's hips twitch but otherwise he stays still. adjusts his position just enough that the tip of hank's dick barely brushes low against the cleft of his ass, and that's torture for connor but it's enough to know that it's going to ruin hank, too. when he raises his eyes to the man there's still all that shame and guilt, but nothing could cover up the sheer lust in his eyes. )
Sinful thoughts. I shouldn't say them... ( connor is becoming less sure of his ability to outlast hank now, so he drops his voice to a breathy murmur and ramps the dial up to eleven. hank surely has to crack first, the man has never had much willpower to resist temptation and certainly not when sex was involved. connor just has to find a way to bait hank into breaking scene to fuck connor before connor loses patience and just drops himself onto the dick grazing his cheeks.
it's close enough to his asshole that he could probably do it now, honestly. the possible damage seems pretty worth it at the moment. ) During Mass I knelt at his feet and I couldn't stop myself imagining him pushing his cock into my mouth, spilling down my throat. And again as we cleaned the church, I could only picture him bending me over the altar and pressing his fingers into me until I begged for him to fill me.
( connor hums softly as he moves his hands to press flat against hank's chest, careful not to touch too much. he honestly doesn't have the willpower for much more contact, never mind hank. )
And again at confession...my only thought is being bound with my cincture and unable to touch him or myself while he thrusts me onto his cock, not allowed to come until I complete my penitence.
[ unfortunately, hank doesn't have the faintest idea that it's some sort of competition. he assumes that connor's getting really, really into this and he's more than happy to indulge despite the desire to laugh out loud because it's just so ridiculous. but connor's taking it so seriously, and how often does hank get the chance to indulge him instead of the other way around? so he gets into it, unwittingly presenting a tougher challenge to connor. he's stroking his dick, admiring the texture of it, teasing the foreskin and toying with it, rubbing over the slit because god he is still so enamored with how intricate this is, how human-like. connor's moaning, looking guilty and shame-faced and hank is practically broadcasting his arousal to that at this point.
which, of course, is definitely a thing they should be discussing at a later time because apparently shame is arousing for the both of them. connor plays this so well, and hank can't help but admire him, shivering at how sexy those words are. he might not have the faintest idea of how things worked in catholic churches, but all of it sounds depraved and forbidden enough for him to grind his dick up between those cheeks, nudging at them and rocking smoothly, letting his own arousal be felt. hank's imagination runs wild, and he finally decides to wholly lean into it, if only for the sake of connor's carefully constructed words.
he takes a shuddering breath, so turned on he almost hurts with it, and he swallows hard, reaching behind to push one finger, then two, inside of connor, because god he can't help himself and he really, really wants to be doing everything that he's detailing out in such lurid detail. ]
What a dirty, filthy boy you are.
[ he murmurs. ] So full of sin, you're brimming with it.
[ he continues, burying both fingers inside of him now, going in deep and slowly pulling out before repeating the motion, making sure connor is ready for him. it's a bit of a stretch, but at least it won't hurt as much when hank finally fucks him. he looks back into those eyes, darkened with lust and potent desire. fuck it, those words make him feel even more horny. ]
You do need penitence, if you're thinking those thoughts right now, still. Your sin cannot be easily wiped away, but it will if you're obedient to everything I say. Clasp your hands together in front of you.
( hank pushes his fingers into connor's ass, and in a moment of startling clarity he realises that there's no chance connor will be able to outlast hank. probably because he never informed the man that there was a competition which means the only one connor is really competing against is himself.
he's really set himself up for failure here – maybe that was the goal all along.
he's tempted to disable some motor functions just to stop himself grinding down onto hank's fingers, but connor had never been one to take the easy way out. instead he just clings to his last fraying threads of self control to hold himself still. he twitches every time hank pushes deep inside of him and brushes against the sensitive receptors there, but he doesn't drive himself down despite the immense need for more building inside him. )
Anything that will absolve me. ( he murmurs sweetly, hands coming up in front of them both and clasped together in a gesture of prayer. it's almost hard to believe that he's straddling hank's hips, two fingers deep inside his ass, he's projecting such innocence. it's a good thing that androids don't believe in a concept of heaven and hell, because this would surely earn him a ticket downstairs. )
Please Father Anderson, tell me what I need to do. I don't want to be sinful any more.
( except for all the shame and innocence written on his face, it sure looks like what he's actually saying is "please fuck me before i snap". )
[ there isn't any sort of failure to be found when it comes to getting intimate like this -- and perhaps the loss is all the sweeter for it when hank completely leans into the scene, thinking that it's what connor wants and is more than happy to give it to him. connor's never really asked for much, and he's stroking inside of him, rubbing against those soft walls and figuring out just where his sensitive spots are.
he knows they're there, it just takes some creative maneuvering to figure out what it is. he's curling his hand around connor's wrists, pressing soft kisses to his fingertips, never turning his gaze away from him. he's taking in that incandescent beauty, the way connor's sinfully hungry gaze lights on his despite the innocence, and fuck, but he's so turned on he could pretty much cut glass at this very moment. ]
Take my cock in your pretty little hands, and put your mouth to it. Worship it like it's the only thing that matters to you.
( the analytical features in his model means that connor has a greater than average amount of sensors in odd places like his tongue and fingers, and right now connor would gladly pray to this god-figure in thanks for that. hank, rubbing his fingers inside of him and searching any of the several random sensitive spots, pressing his lips to the tips of his fingers, it's leaving connor with a heady rush that makes clear thought near impossible.
so fuck it, he loses. connor gives up any pretence of 'trying to make hank 'crack first', he's in whole heartedly now because why not? they're having fun, and it's hot as hell, and really that's all that matters.
connor nods silently, dropping his hands to both circle hank's cock and he pumps them along his length slowly while he glances at hank's arm, the one curled around to press fingers into his ass, and then hank's cock. he wants to drop his mouth onto it immediately, but first he has to find a way of positioning himself that won't result in hank having to remove his fingers. )
Do I– ( his voice hitches in his throat, trying to muffle a moan as hank finds a spot that really works for connor. ) –your fingers, Father. Will you keep them in me while I show you my devotion to worship?
[ ah, yes, they need to find a way around this, don't they? as much as hank loves fucking his pretty, pretty android, there are logistics to consider, and hank already has an idea. he grins, free hand coming to give that tight, pert ass a little slap. ]
You love it in you, huh, you filthy boy?
[ and who is hank to take that away from him, really? so he gently nudges at him, encouraging a little movement. ] Turn around slowly, park your ass on my chest. You should be able to reach my dick better.
[ sixty-nineing, who would've thought hank would be enjoying this kind of sex at his age, with such a beautiful young man? he's rubbing against that spot again, hearing that muffled moan and deciding that he wants more from him. he knows connor is capable of a myriad lovely little sounds, and he intends to pry them out of him. ]
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sometimes, hank wants to spare him from the sucking black hole that's his life -- now is not one of those nights, and he's nuzzling at him, pinching his ass at that sassy remark. ]
What, I can't plan out a dirty porno of two guys fucking and seduce you into it spontaneously?
[ the sheer depraved, squishing, moaning, whining sounds of the two men are a lurid soundtrack to their moment, but hank doesn't care about that, either -- what matters is connor responding to him, curling up against him and moving his fingers over his scar. he remembers the stories he's told about them, but he's noticed that the android has a fondness for this one, and gods, him touching it does so many things to him. ]
Hey. Hey.
[ softly, he grasps his wrist, guiding it back to his scar. his dick's twitching, and as much as he loves having connor tease him just like that, he likes the attention to the ridged scar tissue, too. ]
Here.
[ it's taken a long while for hank to actually communicate to connor about what feels good, and he's taking baby steps, taking care to show him. ] You remember this one, right?
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the video doesn't do much for him yet, he casts another few glances as the sounds indicate the men have changed their activity, but the sounds are stirring something. a pop up helpfully informs him that his phallic turgescence is currently at 29% and steadily increasing. he grinds his crotch idly against hank's thigh, and the status bar jumps up to 41%. )
Of course I do.
( connor is literally incapable of forgetting anything, his processing unit built with state of the art technology and featuring a memory capability large enough to store every bit of data currently on earth. twice. so yeah, he remembers their conversations about his scars, but even without that connor would have committed every detail to memory all the same. he saves all of this information in one place, all of the information he has gathered on hank, and he reviews it all every time he assesses the likelihood of his feelings for hank being love.
connor runs his finger along the edge of the scar again, a nail gently dragging along the point where tight raised skin meets the smooth stretch of his stomach. it's slightly darker than the rest of the skin on hank's stomach, long healed but still angry looking. he leans forward, presses a sweet, soft kiss to hank's lips, and then he nudges the sheets down until hank's upper half is completely uncovered. once he's got hank's stomach – and by proxy, his scar – exposed, connor shuffles down until he's low enough in the bed that he can press a kiss right on hank's stomach. if he wants to grind his hips it'll have to be on a calf now, somewhat less appealing than his dick pressed against hank's thigh, but it's a worth sacrifice. )
You're remarkable, do you know that? ( he asks, and his voice is deadly serious. connor moves to run his tongue along the length of the scar and then replaces it with his fingers, pressing and rubbing and digging his nails in just enough that they can be felt. his mouth hovers, and when he breathes against the saliva-approximation fluid left by his tongue it'll feel cooler. connor smiles again, tipping his head back so that he can see hank, pressing a nail in as he starts to speak again. ) This could have killed you – it should have killed you, but you're still here. You've survived so much, Hank.
( it's a little too serious and earnest considering there's the wet slap of balls against an ass in the background, the loud moans of the two men and all of the other un-heartfelt noises that come with pounding a man hard in the ass. but connor doesn't seem to mind, he jut looks at hank with such fondness it's a wonder he doesn't crawl up and kiss him right there.
but he wants to bring things back to the mood hank was in the process of setting, before hank has a chance to respond, or dwell on connor's words too much. so he shifts the laptop next to their side instead, where he had previously been lying, and straddles hank's thighs. if he moves his hips down they'll be able to grind against each other quite nicely, but connor leaves the gap intentionally. he finds hank's eyes, presses a few fingers against different points along the scar, and his other hand seeks out a different scar. similarly deep but not as long, a drunken accident from hank's twenties. this one is raised too, but the flesh is a deep white, significantly paler than the rest of the skin around his clavicle. this one could have easily killed hank too, the proximity to his lung cavity is minute. it would have taken mere minutes for hank to develop a tension pneumothorax, and not much longer for the injury to induce respiratory arrest. without intervention, from the time of injury hank could have been dead in under twenty minutes. but hank was saved by mere millimetres, it was a miracle, and connor traces his finger carefully around the circular shape imprinted just under the collar bone.
the likelihood of love is now 82.1%. )
Do you want me to tell you what I like?
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[ despite the words, hank is impossibly fond, softer than he usually is, his tone betraying the depth of feeling he's inexplicably developed for this beautiful, lovely young man. is he in love? hell if he knows -- he doesn't have a calculator for these things, doesn't parse through them like connor can. but he knows what he likes, and what he likes right now is that smile, soft and genuine and more charming than he's ever noticed, as if something's been flicked on and hank can't quite put his finger on it yet.
they're touching each other with the soundtrack of heavy, sweaty balls slapping against a firm, tight ass, and hank finds that he doesn't give a shit as long as connor's still exploring him, touching his scars, ruminating on the meaning of them. it's impressive what connor remembers, even if the memories have been half-buried, cast aside because up until connor, no one had seen these scars, much less admired them.
so he watches connor, admires him as he lazily pets him, running his fingers through his hair as he turns his attentions from one scar to another, and another. in contrast, hank's noticed that connor has none of his own, not even after the injuries he's suffered. which makes sense, he supposes -- androids can heal and be repaired, restored to their flawless, impeccable selves, and humans can't. they carry their scars with them, up until the day they die. so he simply brushes his thumb over connor's soft lips now, not caring that the porno is set aside for the moment.
no, there's something more important going on here, something more profound than sex or that bear railing his twink six ways from sunday, and he looks up at him, his hands coming to rest on his hips. he's closing the gap connor leaves, never looking away as he grinds up against him, one hand leaving his hip to cup the back of his neck, pulling connor down to him. he's sliding their dicks together, sealing his mouth over his in a long, slow kiss, exploring him languidly before choosing to finally answer. ]
Shoot.
[ ok, so he really does want to know what connor likes -- he wants to know just about everything connor likes, what he doesn't, what he wants more of, what he needs. he's come so damn far with him, he knows he can't turn back now. ]
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( connor rolls his eyes at hank for effect, but he's smiling too damn much to be taken seriously at all. there's just a mood about them – it's happy, and connor feels happy, and hank looks happy too, and there's just something so delightful and enjoyable about mutual happiness bubbling out of them at the same time.
it makes it easy to forget the groans in the background for the moment, and he slides his hands up to hank's chest instead. it's a good thing too, because he needs something to stabilise him when hank abruptly tugs him down for a kiss that sends sparks travelling all the way down to his toes. he rocks his hips into hank's and the kiss swallows connor's moan.
his hands grip at hank's chest, fingers digging in lightly for purchase, and he rocks his hips a little harder. when hank finally decides he's more curious than needing to kiss, connor presses a quick closed-lips kiss on hank's mouth. he doesn't move away from hank really, still half-lying across him with his hands on hank's chest as his balance. his hips are still rocking into hank's, admittedly a little slower, but he's dedicating a lot of processors to be able to speak evenly throughout that. )
I like it when you pick me up to press me against the wall, or carry me to the bed. ( he starts, ducking his head and rubbing his cheek against hank's beard lightly. ) I like your hair, the way it feels against my skin. I like that touching your scars made your dick twitch.
( and now he's grinning, amused, and he comes back to kiss hank's mouth again. this time he takes the man's lower lip between his teeth, just nibbling gently. when he releases hank's lip, he reaches a hand up to grasp hank's jaw gently and turn his head towards the laptop screen. ) I like the thought of watching the porn that turns you on while you fuck me.
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the mood is infectious, warm and happy and there's a contentment here that hank hasn't felt in two lifetimes, a feeling that he privately fears will be taken from him too because that's what happens when he has something nice for himself, when he experiences profound happiness -- look what happened with his son. but connor isn't cole, connor isn't going to up and leave and slip away from him, and hank turns himself back to the moment, forcing himself to focus.
and perhaps even to begin to wonder if maybe connor is here to stay, after all. he's not immune to the way connor is looking at him, and experience has taught him that these things are too good to be true. connor is too good to be true.
he looks back at him now, as he tells him just what he likes about him, warming his heart in inexplicable ways when he nuzzles and it's all hank can do to nuzzle him close, delighting quietly in that filthy mouth. there's something about connor that he knows he loves, the spark in him that's kept hank impossibly hooked, and even as he kisses him back, hands copping a feel of that tight, glorious ass, he allows his face to be guided to the screen beside him, right where the bear's currently emptying his large, heavy balls into his whimpering twink.
god.
i like you, hanks wants to tell him. i like you, too damn much. ]
You're a regular fuckin' poet.
[ he tells him instead, but he can't help the tremor in his voice, the way his cock is pressed up solidly between both those cheeks, and hank's spreading his ass open, rubbing up against that tight little hole, teasing around the rim of it. his lips throb pleasantly, and he continues. ] So why don't you do it? Click on the next video -- watch that young man fucked into the pew while his bear of a priest nails him with his nine-inch dick after confession.
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when he recalls that particular conversation, the percentage makes another jump. 83.9% certainty that connor is in love with hank – good odds, but still not enough to chance saying it. )
Is that what you're into then?
( connor smirks a little at hank before he stretches his arm out to the laptop, clicking the link in question and then bringing the video up to full screen. it only buffers a moment before it loads, the typical scene setting preamble expected of porn beginning to play out in front of them. connor takes the opportunity to look back at hank, fixing his expression into something small and sad and guilty – although there's an amused glint in his eyes that he can't mask. )
Forgive me Father Anderson, for I have sinned.
( he repositions so that he's sitting up again, straddling hank's hips and pressing his hands together in a gesture of prayer. his cock is positioned perfectly to grind against hank's hips lined up nicely, but once he's settled against him connor doesn't move again. he's still working the shameful, guilty look on his face, eyes lowered and head bowed, although his eyes flick up to peer at hank through his lashes occasionally. maybe introducing connor to porn wasn't the best idea for hank. )
It had been three months since my last confession.
( when he says it, it lines up almost perfectly with the young man in the video expressing exactly the same phrase, looking just about as lusty and shameful in equal measure as connor does right now. )
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[ for a few blessed moments, hank can only stare at him, slack-jawed by just how seamlessly connor slides into the persona of a lusty, shameful young man on his knees and practically riding his dick, which is right about to stab up against that fine ass any minute now, the way he's going about it.
connor looks appropriately shame-faced, and the way his mouth forms 'father anderson' sends his mind spiralling to many, many places, each and every one more lurid than the last. god, connor armed with the knowledge of a thousand pornos is going to be a menace, especially to his cock, but it's as if his body is vengefully trying to make up for almost ten years of a dry spell, because he's so fucking horny he forgets himself for a moment.
connor, his contrite little sheep, part of his flock, and the sane part of hank's mind checks out of this double-blasphemy forever when he decides to lean into the whole damn thing. he reaches up and grasps his chin, sitting up against the pillows and trying his damndest to affect a pastoral air. which kind of works and is kind of really, really hot. hell, he can really get into this, and his gaze flickers briefly to the porno video playing, the way connor so perfectly emulates the twink so sweetly confession his sins.
god, connor is his very own twink.
he swallows hard, hand coming to stroke over his spine, suddenly so fucking hungry for more, ravenous for this play. his cock twitches, admiring the sweetly innocent beauty of him, how he's even prettier than the one on-screen, and he murmurs. ]
I shall hear your sins, my son.
[ holy shit, this is so fucked up and so hot all at once. ]
Confess, and maybe I'll be lenient on you.
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when hank sits up, connor settles down a little further into his lap, and the little movement causes his cock to rub against hank's stomach. connor inhales sharply, reacting mostly out of surprise at the unexpected contact. he's tempted to push in closer, but that doesn't exactly fit the guilt-ridden sinner act so much as it does just the last part. instead he keeps himself very still, a remarkable display of self-restraint he thinks, and he meets hank's eyes without any indication of how badly he wants to just push forward and grind his cock against hank's stomach until he comes all over him.
there's probably a little bit of an indication. )
I've been lustful, ( he starts, because it seems appropriate given that it's a pornographic film playing next to them and not a biopic. he can't imagine that the source of arousal is in the accuracy to scripture. ) for someone I shouldn't have these thoughts about.
( it's not verbatim the film script, but a largely similar conversation plays from the laptop speakers. even if connor doesn't watch porn, he came across enough discussion on it to know that it's not exactly known for shock twists or deep dialogue. it's easy enough to predict the general direction that this needs to go. )
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he finds that the porno in question isn't as intoxicating or compelling as connor is, especially when he slides down a little more onto his lap, his dick rubbing up against his stomach and he can just see it in those gorgeous, soft brown eyes that connor wants to hump his stomach until he comes, or something. ]
Yeah? And who would that be?
[ hank feels really stupid, playing along like this, but then connor is working up to something, he just knows it, and curiosity wins out over mortification and the desire to guffaw and ruin this play. no, he can't spoil it, not when connor looks so earnest and real, faking the innocence (not all that much faking, for all the depraved things they do, connor really is still sort of innocent), and he's reaching up to run his fingers through connor's hair, mussing it up just a touch. ]
You can tell me your sin. I won't tell a soul.
[ he's pretty sure he's a shitty priest because that's probably not how confession works, but whatever. ]
Even if you have been bad.
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connor is going to make sure that hank breaks the scene first.
he's never been above playing dirty for the sake of achieving his desired outcome. even before breaking through his programming, connor has always used all of the resources at his disposal in the pursuit of a successful outcome – he'd picked up a gun despite strict laws prohibiting android firearm possession, he'd drilled a vulnerable deviant into a full confession. he'd leapt in the line of bullets and interfaced with a deviant about to commit suicide in the name of finding their location.
now it's a little different, there are moral lines involved and he wouldn't choose to go through with many of those options now – but when there aren't vulnerable, compromised individuals suffering as a result of his choices? absolutely he'll play as dirty as he can get.
his head tips into hank's touch for a brief moment, exhaling a soft sigh as fingers run through his hair, and then he rights himself quickly. averts his eyes guiltily. shifts up onto his knees until they press firmly either side of hank's thighs and there's actually empty space between their crotches. his hands are still pressed together in prayer but now he laces his fingers to clasp his hands together tight, and connor bows his head low until his chin almost touches his chest. he looks ridden with shame, a hard look to manage while naked from the waist down with a hard cock bobbing dangerously close to hank's stomach without any contact, but connor still manages. )
Father Anderson, if I say it I don't think I'll be Forgiven.
( he speaks to his clasped hands, interest in the video – who have apparently skipped confession and gone straight to dick sucking – completely lost in favour of his new target. one way or another, hank's going to break his role first. connor is determined. )
It.....was a man of God. How will you have me repent for my sins?
( and he raises his enough that he can look up at hank, head still bowed and hands still clasped and still upright on his knees. the lack of contact has left his cock straining, twitching slightly as he dwells too long on his anticipation for the moment where hank finally touches him. his dick hasn't seemed to have gotten the shameful guilty memo, but that's fine. )
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unaware of the wiles his android lover possesses, and the lengths he's going to to win this little game, hank looks up at him, half-torn between laughing out loud (because this is dumb and ridiculous) and continuing because connor's eyes are so soft and the guilt and shame in them does so many terrible, terrible things to him, chief of which goes right to his dick, which is already twitching against his ass.
connor seems to be real into it, too, from the way he can see his dick bobbing, barely even brushing against his stomach. so hank is kind, and reaches out to lightly circle his hand around his cock, deciding to pay it some attention -- and to fuck with connor along the way.
hey, they both can be assholes, right? hank just doesn't yet realise that's what connor is doing. also, he likes the ring of 'father anderson' even though he knows very well that this will probably set him aside as a depraved fucker who should never be in the proximity of any church lest he be struck by lightning. no, he can't take his eyes away from his beautiful young lover, so supple and nubile and so. damn. gorgeous. ]
I'll decide once you show me the magnitude of them.
[ also, the dick sucking is getting real distracting, especially when hank wants nothing more than to do that to connor and watch him fall apart. but no, connor looks like he's really into this and so hank is just going to have to play along and indulge. ]
A man of God? Oh, son. What sins have you committed against such a man?
[ god, that was cheesy and so horrible and lame, and he rubs his thumb against the sensitive little slit of his cock to make up for it -- or distract connor from that terrible line. both. definitely both. ]
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he's strong. he's one of the most advanced pieces of technology in existence, he can withstand a little teasing touches. surely.
connor isn't strong enough to stop himself from letting out a muffled moan when hank thumbs at the tip of his cock though, and to make up for it he makes himself look even more guilty at his response. honestly the whole thing is cheesy and lame, but there's no denying that there's something very hot about shame.
( that's probably something they should both be looking at carefully at a later, less sexually charged time, but that's a problem for much later. )
connor's hips twitch but otherwise he stays still. adjusts his position just enough that the tip of hank's dick barely brushes low against the cleft of his ass, and that's torture for connor but it's enough to know that it's going to ruin hank, too. when he raises his eyes to the man there's still all that shame and guilt, but nothing could cover up the sheer lust in his eyes. )
Sinful thoughts. I shouldn't say them... ( connor is becoming less sure of his ability to outlast hank now, so he drops his voice to a breathy murmur and ramps the dial up to eleven. hank surely has to crack first, the man has never had much willpower to resist temptation and certainly not when sex was involved. connor just has to find a way to bait hank into breaking scene to fuck connor before connor loses patience and just drops himself onto the dick grazing his cheeks.
it's close enough to his asshole that he could probably do it now, honestly. the possible damage seems pretty worth it at the moment. ) During Mass I knelt at his feet and I couldn't stop myself imagining him pushing his cock into my mouth, spilling down my throat. And again as we cleaned the church, I could only picture him bending me over the altar and pressing his fingers into me until I begged for him to fill me.
( connor hums softly as he moves his hands to press flat against hank's chest, careful not to touch too much. he honestly doesn't have the willpower for much more contact, never mind hank. )
And again at confession...my only thought is being bound with my cincture and unable to touch him or myself while he thrusts me onto his cock, not allowed to come until I complete my penitence.
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which, of course, is definitely a thing they should be discussing at a later time because apparently shame is arousing for the both of them. connor plays this so well, and hank can't help but admire him, shivering at how sexy those words are. he might not have the faintest idea of how things worked in catholic churches, but all of it sounds depraved and forbidden enough for him to grind his dick up between those cheeks, nudging at them and rocking smoothly, letting his own arousal be felt. hank's imagination runs wild, and he finally decides to wholly lean into it, if only for the sake of connor's carefully constructed words.
he takes a shuddering breath, so turned on he almost hurts with it, and he swallows hard, reaching behind to push one finger, then two, inside of connor, because god he can't help himself and he really, really wants to be doing everything that he's detailing out in such lurid detail. ]
What a dirty, filthy boy you are.
[ he murmurs. ] So full of sin, you're brimming with it.
[ he continues, burying both fingers inside of him now, going in deep and slowly pulling out before repeating the motion, making sure connor is ready for him. it's a bit of a stretch, but at least it won't hurt as much when hank finally fucks him. he looks back into those eyes, darkened with lust and potent desire. fuck it, those words make him feel even more horny. ]
You do need penitence, if you're thinking those thoughts right now, still. Your sin cannot be easily wiped away, but it will if you're obedient to everything I say. Clasp your hands together in front of you.
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he's really set himself up for failure here – maybe that was the goal all along.
he's tempted to disable some motor functions just to stop himself grinding down onto hank's fingers, but connor had never been one to take the easy way out. instead he just clings to his last fraying threads of self control to hold himself still. he twitches every time hank pushes deep inside of him and brushes against the sensitive receptors there, but he doesn't drive himself down despite the immense need for more building inside him. )
Anything that will absolve me. ( he murmurs sweetly, hands coming up in front of them both and clasped together in a gesture of prayer. it's almost hard to believe that he's straddling hank's hips, two fingers deep inside his ass, he's projecting such innocence. it's a good thing that androids don't believe in a concept of heaven and hell, because this would surely earn him a ticket downstairs. )
Please Father Anderson, tell me what I need to do. I don't want to be sinful any more.
( except for all the shame and innocence written on his face, it sure looks like what he's actually saying is "please fuck me before i snap". )
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he knows they're there, it just takes some creative maneuvering to figure out what it is. he's curling his hand around connor's wrists, pressing soft kisses to his fingertips, never turning his gaze away from him. he's taking in that incandescent beauty, the way connor's sinfully hungry gaze lights on his despite the innocence, and fuck, but he's so turned on he could pretty much cut glass at this very moment. ]
Take my cock in your pretty little hands, and put your mouth to it. Worship it like it's the only thing that matters to you.
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so fuck it, he loses. connor gives up any pretence of 'trying to make hank 'crack first', he's in whole heartedly now because why not? they're having fun, and it's hot as hell, and really that's all that matters.
connor nods silently, dropping his hands to both circle hank's cock and he pumps them along his length slowly while he glances at hank's arm, the one curled around to press fingers into his ass, and then hank's cock. he wants to drop his mouth onto it immediately, but first he has to find a way of positioning himself that won't result in hank having to remove his fingers. )
Do I– ( his voice hitches in his throat, trying to muffle a moan as hank finds a spot that really works for connor. ) –your fingers, Father. Will you keep them in me while I show you my devotion to worship?
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You love it in you, huh, you filthy boy?
[ and who is hank to take that away from him, really? so he gently nudges at him, encouraging a little movement. ] Turn around slowly, park your ass on my chest. You should be able to reach my dick better.
[ sixty-nineing, who would've thought hank would be enjoying this kind of sex at his age, with such a beautiful young man? he's rubbing against that spot again, hearing that muffled moan and deciding that he wants more from him. he knows connor is capable of a myriad lovely little sounds, and he intends to pry them out of him. ]