( 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. ]
( it occurs to connor that he still needs to replace his missing biocomponents, but they're somewhere on the bed and connor honestly doesn't want to break the mood just to shove some unessential parts back into his abdomen. instead he just nuzzles back into hank, presses his hips back tight against hank's, and grins around the fingers in his mouth.
he pulls them out with a subtle little 'pop', then moves his hand back to curl around hank's hip and keep him pressed completely against connor's back. eventually hank's dick is going to soften enough that it won't stay in his ass, but for now he can still feel him and connor's grin only widens as he squeezes the muscles around him. )
Yeah, ( he sounds amused, just a little. mostly he's just really interested in hank's response, and he wonders which part of it did it more for hank. so naturally, he slips his fingers into his mouth again, waiting for the response as he sucks on them idly before pulling them back out again and running the fingers over the back of hank's hand lightly. ) it's you. How could I not?
[ fuck. connor's getting all sweet and affectionate and hank is pretty sure his weary old heart isn't going to be able to take it. he squeezes around his dick, and hank gasps, oversensitive and overstimulated. also, connor definitely needs to be putting his biocomponents back inside of him, and slowly, surely, he's sliding out of that warm, welcoming sheath. as much as hank would like falling asleep deep inside his connor, he knows that's not quite a possibility right now. besides, this gives him the angle to really watch the ridiculously sexy way connor's licking his fingers, sucking on them and making hank's mouth dry even if he'd just ejaculated inside of him.
he groans, low and long-suffering but nonetheless quite appreciative. ]
You're going to kill me.
[ he tells him, because connor really is going to fucking kill him, and he is going to remember that for ages. he's fascinated by it, his hand curling to lace with connor's, wanting more of his touch, his tender affection. connor wants to taste him because it's him, and fuck, does the android even realise how good that sounds? ]
You know this means you can never actually put anything else from crime scenes in your mouth again, right?
( connor makes a soft sound of protest, somewhere between a hum and whine, as hank finally slides out of him entirely. he can definitely feel sticky fluid seeping out of him now, and it's a strange sensation. not unpleasant, there's definitely an aspect of it that connor decides he definitely wants in any future encounters they have, if hank is amenable.
but now that hank is no longer inside of him connor is free to move a little, enough that he very quickly gathers up the components discarded carelessly on the bed. he keeps his back to hank as he quickly opens up a compartment and slots them back into place, but once the synthetic skin has replaced he lets go of hank's hand long enough to roll over.
he's facing hank now, and it's so much better like this. he can reach up and touch hank's face, see him smile, and connor leans in and kisses him, slow and deep, until he's sure that hank needs to surface for air. )
Hank, I hope you're not suggesting I compromise my work so that I can kiss you. My mouth is incredibly clean, it self-sterilises after every sample.
I'm saying you can use the CSI labs for that. My dick goes inside you, babe! I don't care that you do that self-sterilising shit, just thinking about all the gross things you taste makes my dick soft.
[ hank could probably be more cranky than he currently sounds, but he's too busy being distracted by all that come dribbling out of connor's tight, tight little hole that's almost too small to take him. god, it's really fucking sexy, and he can feel his pulse race, just a little at the sight of it. he's tucking connor into his arms when he cuddles close and kisses him, leaning into his hand before taking a deep breath, almost panting.
god, androids don't need to breathe and that's ridiculously convenient, because he hates the moments that take him away from connor. so he dips down again to claim his lips, drawing him into another deep, deep kiss. when he pulls away a second time, hank is remarkably clear-eyed, even though his voice is pitched low and husky. ]
I don't have beer before we have sex, you don't stick gross shit into your mouth. Deal?
( connor doesn't pout, because he's an adult of his species and behaves as such, but the spirit of it is there. he's not so much in disagreement that it stops him from continuing to press kisses to hank's face. he moves to run his nose through the beard along hank's jaw, one of his hands moving to rake his fingers through lightly right after.
he keeps his nose more or less in the same spot, worming his arms down and around to hold hank close, it involves a tiny bit of jostling hank around to get to the point where he can wrap both arms around him, but once they're where connor wants them to be he hums in contentment and presses another kiss to his jaw softly. )
You can have one beer before sex and I will brush my teeth first. How's that sound?
[ hank chuckles, not above teasing him. there is humor in his eyes, a warmth that he reveals to no one but connor, intimate and private and full of affection. he's feeling those little gestures of affection that connor so sweetly lavishes on him, and he can practically hear the pout even if connor's more dignified than that. he's nuzzling into his fingers, eyes lidding as he enjoys the sweetness of the moment, the fact that he could have this again.
happiness, within his grasp. connor folds into him like he's always belonged there, and he lavishes lazy kisses on the crown of his head, his forehead, sighing softly at connor's kisses in turn. ]
Mouthwash, too. Twice.
[ he can't believe he's compromising on this, it's ridiculous, but it's so connor that he doesn't mind it anyway. ] No jizz.
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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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he pulls them out with a subtle little 'pop', then moves his hand back to curl around hank's hip and keep him pressed completely against connor's back. eventually hank's dick is going to soften enough that it won't stay in his ass, but for now he can still feel him and connor's grin only widens as he squeezes the muscles around him. )
Yeah, ( he sounds amused, just a little. mostly he's just really interested in hank's response, and he wonders which part of it did it more for hank. so naturally, he slips his fingers into his mouth again, waiting for the response as he sucks on them idly before pulling them back out again and running the fingers over the back of hank's hand lightly. ) it's you. How could I not?
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he groans, low and long-suffering but nonetheless quite appreciative. ]
You're going to kill me.
[ he tells him, because connor really is going to fucking kill him, and he is going to remember that for ages. he's fascinated by it, his hand curling to lace with connor's, wanting more of his touch, his tender affection. connor wants to taste him because it's him, and fuck, does the android even realise how good that sounds? ]
You know this means you can never actually put anything else from crime scenes in your mouth again, right?
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but now that hank is no longer inside of him connor is free to move a little, enough that he very quickly gathers up the components discarded carelessly on the bed. he keeps his back to hank as he quickly opens up a compartment and slots them back into place, but once the synthetic skin has replaced he lets go of hank's hand long enough to roll over.
he's facing hank now, and it's so much better like this. he can reach up and touch hank's face, see him smile, and connor leans in and kisses him, slow and deep, until he's sure that hank needs to surface for air. )
Hank, I hope you're not suggesting I compromise my work so that I can kiss you. My mouth is incredibly clean, it self-sterilises after every sample.
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[ hank could probably be more cranky than he currently sounds, but he's too busy being distracted by all that come dribbling out of connor's tight, tight little hole that's almost too small to take him. god, it's really fucking sexy, and he can feel his pulse race, just a little at the sight of it. he's tucking connor into his arms when he cuddles close and kisses him, leaning into his hand before taking a deep breath, almost panting.
god, androids don't need to breathe and that's ridiculously convenient, because he hates the moments that take him away from connor. so he dips down again to claim his lips, drawing him into another deep, deep kiss. when he pulls away a second time, hank is remarkably clear-eyed, even though his voice is pitched low and husky. ]
I don't have beer before we have sex, you don't stick gross shit into your mouth. Deal?
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( connor doesn't pout, because he's an adult of his species and behaves as such, but the spirit of it is there. he's not so much in disagreement that it stops him from continuing to press kisses to hank's face. he moves to run his nose through the beard along hank's jaw, one of his hands moving to rake his fingers through lightly right after.
he keeps his nose more or less in the same spot, worming his arms down and around to hold hank close, it involves a tiny bit of jostling hank around to get to the point where he can wrap both arms around him, but once they're where connor wants them to be he hums in contentment and presses another kiss to his jaw softly. )
You can have one beer before sex and I will brush my teeth first. How's that sound?
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[ hank chuckles, not above teasing him. there is humor in his eyes, a warmth that he reveals to no one but connor, intimate and private and full of affection. he's feeling those little gestures of affection that connor so sweetly lavishes on him, and he can practically hear the pout even if connor's more dignified than that. he's nuzzling into his fingers, eyes lidding as he enjoys the sweetness of the moment, the fact that he could have this again.
happiness, within his grasp. connor folds into him like he's always belonged there, and he lavishes lazy kisses on the crown of his head, his forehead, sighing softly at connor's kisses in turn. ]
Mouthwash, too. Twice.
[ he can't believe he's compromising on this, it's ridiculous, but it's so connor that he doesn't mind it anyway. ] No jizz.