( connor takes a minute to really wind down from the intensely heady place he had jumped to with hank's hand in his wires. it's..interesting, a little intimidating, mostly just confusing. his arm muscles twitch a little as electric impulses finish running through his system, another few twitches at the synthetic muscle running across his shoulder blade. one along the side of his neck, more of a flutter than a twitch.
strange as it might seem, it's when connor stops breathing that things really return to normal.
the respiratory function had been left off intentionally, it would have caused movements that would interfere with hank's tasks, but a few systems had been activated while hank had rubbed away at his wires and breathing was one of them. he should find the others, but it's nothing obvious enough to cause concern, so he'll just...return to that later. )
It's... ( he's back, but connor is still a little scattered, and he squeezes hank's hand as he pulls himself back together. ) The small white box, it's a replacement T3 vertebrae. The compartment between my shoulders, you'll be able to see the one that needs changing, it's already loose. You literally just pull the old one out and slot the new one in. Like a CD.
( look at him, making old timey references hank will understand. )
[ hank echoes dryly, eyeing him in the mirror as he goes slow, taking care to be gentle but firm, taking his time with him to allow connor to stabilise himself. it's only when he stops breathing and looks less like he'd fall to pieces that hank continues. ]
You know that's dated in my time, right?
[ just making sure connor knows he isn't some sort of ancient dude. still, he does as he's told, pulling the old one out and carefully setting it on the counter beside him, and pushing the old one in delicately, pausing to make sure that it's slotted right. there is a soft hiss and whirr, and hank looks quite pleased when nothing seems to be in danger of exploding.
which means hank gets to stroke up over the slit, rubbing gently up and down it before it closes, trailing up further between his shoulder to rub gently at the wire he finds there. ]
So how about this...? You sensitive here, too?
[ hey, he deserves a reward for being such a good listener. ]
How would I know that? CDs haven't been in use for almost a decade and I'm nine months old.
( it's a fact that connor loves to bring up – not too often of course, hank finds enough reasons to be insecure about his youthful appearance without constantly reminding him that connor has technically existed for less than a year – but now he's using the teasing comment less to rib hank and more to distract from his current state. which is very flustered, even after calming down.
his systems are all online, nothing is overheating or frying, but connor runs diagnostics again anyway. it feels like they are searing, not painful but just electric and alive. even now that he's settled it still thrums away in his chest and neck, too intense to articulate properly.
connor is preparing to add to his comment, because hank hasn't responded and that means he clearly needs to snark a little more obviously, but all thoughts of that promptly shut down when hank slips the new disc into place along his synthetic spinal column and follows it up with a finger dragging along so gently. connor reacts immediately, his LED still blue but pulsing away furiously, and when his mouth falls open once more he just–
...well, he buzzes. )
Hank, ( he whispers the man's name, and when connor catches sight of himself in the mirror he's surprised by how obscene the sight before him is. his jaw hangs slack, lips parted and mouth wet. his eyes are half lidded, heavy and lustful and wanting. it's like hank has direct access to his arousal program and has switched everything on without warning.
he reaches back, blindly seeking out somewhere he can touch the man, and his hands find purchase on hank's hip where he grips. synthetic muscles twitch along his upper arms again, fluttering in time with the rub of hank's fingers against connor's wiring. when he moans this time it's almost entirely human, with only a slight crackle underneath. ) it feels....so much.
[ hank grumbles at him, annoyance coloring his tone; but it's mild because honestly he's far more distracted by just how gorgeous connor looks, given over to lust, his emotions overriding every imaginable android protocol because hank's damn sure none of those programs can simulate something like this. no, this is raw and rough and real, so much like when connor had lost it at hank, fretting but determined, when hank had known connor would turn deviant and had just about done everything short of encouraging it outright.
no, his connor is as humanlike as they come, even if what he's currently doing with him now tells him differently. connor clings to him and buzzes when hank touches him just right, and whatever thoughts he has about it being weird is shunted firmly aside in pursuit of connor's pleasure.
he can feel the static, the lick of electricity, soft and warm in his fingers, and he supposes that's connor's body telling him that it's all fine. he can't tear his eyes away from the magnificent view of him, the way his lovely mouth falls open in pure, unadulterated lust, when he whispers his name and his eyes lid just so, so dark it's almost black, and he steps close, pressing up against him.
his dick is half-hard right up against connor's ass -- it's not cooperating very well at the moment, but give it time. besides, hank's more interested in connor's than his own, which is why he continues his purposeful ministrations, sliding down the slot again with a calloused thumb, eager to feel him flutter against him again, like a butterfly caged.
he's smiling back at him, full of intent and purpose and oh, he knows exactly what he's doing and why. ]
Easy. Easy -- I've got you here.
[ he murmurs, low and soothing before his lips press against his ear, long and lingering. ] You never knew this could happen. None of the other androids ever told ya? Not even one of those sexbots?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
strange as it might seem, it's when connor stops breathing that things really return to normal.
the respiratory function had been left off intentionally, it would have caused movements that would interfere with hank's tasks, but a few systems had been activated while hank had rubbed away at his wires and breathing was one of them. he should find the others, but it's nothing obvious enough to cause concern, so he'll just...return to that later. )
It's... ( he's back, but connor is still a little scattered, and he squeezes hank's hand as he pulls himself back together. ) The small white box, it's a replacement T3 vertebrae. The compartment between my shoulders, you'll be able to see the one that needs changing, it's already loose. You literally just pull the old one out and slot the new one in. Like a CD.
( look at him, making old timey references hank will understand. )
no subject
[ hank echoes dryly, eyeing him in the mirror as he goes slow, taking care to be gentle but firm, taking his time with him to allow connor to stabilise himself. it's only when he stops breathing and looks less like he'd fall to pieces that hank continues. ]
You know that's dated in my time, right?
[ just making sure connor knows he isn't some sort of ancient dude. still, he does as he's told, pulling the old one out and carefully setting it on the counter beside him, and pushing the old one in delicately, pausing to make sure that it's slotted right. there is a soft hiss and whirr, and hank looks quite pleased when nothing seems to be in danger of exploding.
which means hank gets to stroke up over the slit, rubbing gently up and down it before it closes, trailing up further between his shoulder to rub gently at the wire he finds there. ]
So how about this...? You sensitive here, too?
[ hey, he deserves a reward for being such a good listener. ]
no subject
( it's a fact that connor loves to bring up – not too often of course, hank finds enough reasons to be insecure about his youthful appearance without constantly reminding him that connor has technically existed for less than a year – but now he's using the teasing comment less to rib hank and more to distract from his current state. which is very flustered, even after calming down.
his systems are all online, nothing is overheating or frying, but connor runs diagnostics again anyway. it feels like they are searing, not painful but just electric and alive. even now that he's settled it still thrums away in his chest and neck, too intense to articulate properly.
connor is preparing to add to his comment, because hank hasn't responded and that means he clearly needs to snark a little more obviously, but all thoughts of that promptly shut down when hank slips the new disc into place along his synthetic spinal column and follows it up with a finger dragging along so gently. connor reacts immediately, his LED still blue but pulsing away furiously, and when his mouth falls open once more he just–
...well, he buzzes. )
Hank, ( he whispers the man's name, and when connor catches sight of himself in the mirror he's surprised by how obscene the sight before him is. his jaw hangs slack, lips parted and mouth wet. his eyes are half lidded, heavy and lustful and wanting. it's like hank has direct access to his arousal program and has switched everything on without warning.
he reaches back, blindly seeking out somewhere he can touch the man, and his hands find purchase on hank's hip where he grips. synthetic muscles twitch along his upper arms again, fluttering in time with the rub of hank's fingers against connor's wiring. when he moans this time it's almost entirely human, with only a slight crackle underneath. ) it feels....so much.
no subject
[ hank grumbles at him, annoyance coloring his tone; but it's mild because honestly he's far more distracted by just how gorgeous connor looks, given over to lust, his emotions overriding every imaginable android protocol because hank's damn sure none of those programs can simulate something like this. no, this is raw and rough and real, so much like when connor had lost it at hank, fretting but determined, when hank had known connor would turn deviant and had just about done everything short of encouraging it outright.
no, his connor is as humanlike as they come, even if what he's currently doing with him now tells him differently. connor clings to him and buzzes when hank touches him just right, and whatever thoughts he has about it being weird is shunted firmly aside in pursuit of connor's pleasure.
he can feel the static, the lick of electricity, soft and warm in his fingers, and he supposes that's connor's body telling him that it's all fine. he can't tear his eyes away from the magnificent view of him, the way his lovely mouth falls open in pure, unadulterated lust, when he whispers his name and his eyes lid just so, so dark it's almost black, and he steps close, pressing up against him.
his dick is half-hard right up against connor's ass -- it's not cooperating very well at the moment, but give it time. besides, hank's more interested in connor's than his own, which is why he continues his purposeful ministrations, sliding down the slot again with a calloused thumb, eager to feel him flutter against him again, like a butterfly caged.
he's smiling back at him, full of intent and purpose and oh, he knows exactly what he's doing and why. ]
Easy. Easy -- I've got you here.
[ he murmurs, low and soothing before his lips press against his ear, long and lingering. ] You never knew this could happen. None of the other androids ever told ya? Not even one of those sexbots?