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( weirdly, it starts with hank's fingers in connor's mouth.
there's been a very slow development of sensations for androids – it seems deviancy does change something, switching on receptors they didn't even know existed, creating new synapses and pathways to develop a fuller, richer existence. this wasn't relevant, except for the part where one of those developments was a patchy, buggy approximation of tastebuds.
this was a developed upgrade rather than an organic development, but connor was curious enough to try. so when hank was just finished eating a sticky bun with a calorie count that made connor wince, he approached by the man's side and with little pre-amble he took his hand and sucked the icing off of one of his fingers. and promptly experienced a soft reboot, because that was everything. hank had made himself scarce very quickly after that, and connor was left with an overwhelming amount of information running through his processors and a strange, tugging sensation of needing more.
and it doesn't go away.
it's been two weeks and connor hasn't stopped thinking about hank. specifically about hank's fingers, he spends far too much time looking at the man's hands and preconstructing different scenarios of them. he's able to work efficiently while he does this, but sometimes hank catches him staring and he has to try and awkwardly pretend he was looking..anywhere else, really. but two weeks is too long, and connor is not a patient creation. he was designed to be curious and determined, always pursuing a goal – so that's what he does.
hank gets home later than connor with a brown bag in his hand, but he isn't drunk. connor is surprised, but pleasantly so. he wouldn't want to do this if hank walked into the house intoxicated. he waits until the bottle is down on the kitchen counter before he crowds up against the man's back, hands resting on his hips gently. he's being forward, sure, but he won't be inappropriate – not until he's sure it's reciprocated. )
Lieutenant, ( he says quietly, close enough that his lips brush against the t-shirt covering hank's shoulder. ) I was wondering if you might help me with something.
there's been a very slow development of sensations for androids – it seems deviancy does change something, switching on receptors they didn't even know existed, creating new synapses and pathways to develop a fuller, richer existence. this wasn't relevant, except for the part where one of those developments was a patchy, buggy approximation of tastebuds.
this was a developed upgrade rather than an organic development, but connor was curious enough to try. so when hank was just finished eating a sticky bun with a calorie count that made connor wince, he approached by the man's side and with little pre-amble he took his hand and sucked the icing off of one of his fingers. and promptly experienced a soft reboot, because that was everything. hank had made himself scarce very quickly after that, and connor was left with an overwhelming amount of information running through his processors and a strange, tugging sensation of needing more.
and it doesn't go away.
it's been two weeks and connor hasn't stopped thinking about hank. specifically about hank's fingers, he spends far too much time looking at the man's hands and preconstructing different scenarios of them. he's able to work efficiently while he does this, but sometimes hank catches him staring and he has to try and awkwardly pretend he was looking..anywhere else, really. but two weeks is too long, and connor is not a patient creation. he was designed to be curious and determined, always pursuing a goal – so that's what he does.
hank gets home later than connor with a brown bag in his hand, but he isn't drunk. connor is surprised, but pleasantly so. he wouldn't want to do this if hank walked into the house intoxicated. he waits until the bottle is down on the kitchen counter before he crowds up against the man's back, hands resting on his hips gently. he's being forward, sure, but he won't be inappropriate – not until he's sure it's reciprocated. )
Lieutenant, ( he says quietly, close enough that his lips brush against the t-shirt covering hank's shoulder. ) I was wondering if you might help me with something.
Edited 2018-10-06 03:03 (UTC)
[ everything starts with hank's fingers in connor's mouth. it had been something resembling normal at first -- they'd been chugging along in that complicated gray area of will-they-won't-they and that's an area hank had found himself comfortable in for so many, many reasons, not least of which is his many fucking flaws.
he'd been steadily determined to kill himself one bite at a time (although these days, there's less determination in it), and the feeling of connor's soft, warm lips wrapped around his mouth, that look, oh, fuck, that look on his face after just sent everything left in his body right to his dick.
damn straight hank had beat a hasty retreat after that, cursing under his breath as he'd locked himself in the bathroom and rubbed one out, feeling like a dirty fucking old man for masturbating to the incredible sight of that beautiful, young, flawless face looking like he'd just discovered something incredible for the first time.
but then nothing happens after; hank pretends that he hadn't just popped a boner and came all over his hand like a horny teenager in the bathroom, biting back connor's name and a steady stream of bathroom invectives. he drinks less the next couple of weeks, a steady decline he doesn't bother acknowledging, his thoughts crowded with the vivid imagery of that mouth, and what it would feel like wrapped around his cock.
turns out, he rubs one out again in one of the dirty stalls in a bar and decides that the eventual decrease of alcohol is great for his dick and the libido he'd long feared dead. no, it evidently just needed connor to jumpstart it again, great.
he comes home one night, having bought a bottle for himself out of habit and yet he remains stone cold sober (lately, this particular state isn't as insufferable as it used to be), and he stiffens just a little when the android comes over and makes his move and gods, of course he should know this is coming. connor is too driven, too curious to let chips lie where they may, and he feels the heat of that mouth, those words, and wonders if anyone ever thought of whether they've made these ones too life-like.
whatever, it doesn't bother him all that much anymore. what bothers him now, however, is how connor's touch sets every instinct alight, anticipation and a profound sense of semi-exasperation in the pit of his stomach. god, he wants to fuck him. ]
Somthin' else you wanna taste, then?
he'd been steadily determined to kill himself one bite at a time (although these days, there's less determination in it), and the feeling of connor's soft, warm lips wrapped around his mouth, that look, oh, fuck, that look on his face after just sent everything left in his body right to his dick.
damn straight hank had beat a hasty retreat after that, cursing under his breath as he'd locked himself in the bathroom and rubbed one out, feeling like a dirty fucking old man for masturbating to the incredible sight of that beautiful, young, flawless face looking like he'd just discovered something incredible for the first time.
but then nothing happens after; hank pretends that he hadn't just popped a boner and came all over his hand like a horny teenager in the bathroom, biting back connor's name and a steady stream of bathroom invectives. he drinks less the next couple of weeks, a steady decline he doesn't bother acknowledging, his thoughts crowded with the vivid imagery of that mouth, and what it would feel like wrapped around his cock.
turns out, he rubs one out again in one of the dirty stalls in a bar and decides that the eventual decrease of alcohol is great for his dick and the libido he'd long feared dead. no, it evidently just needed connor to jumpstart it again, great.
he comes home one night, having bought a bottle for himself out of habit and yet he remains stone cold sober (lately, this particular state isn't as insufferable as it used to be), and he stiffens just a little when the android comes over and makes his move and gods, of course he should know this is coming. connor is too driven, too curious to let chips lie where they may, and he feels the heat of that mouth, those words, and wonders if anyone ever thought of whether they've made these ones too life-like.
whatever, it doesn't bother him all that much anymore. what bothers him now, however, is how connor's touch sets every instinct alight, anticipation and a profound sense of semi-exasperation in the pit of his stomach. god, he wants to fuck him. ]
Somthin' else you wanna taste, then?
( he's been visiting markus and the rest of the jericho leadership a lot more lately. in part due to hank's insistence that working together and living together was too much if they didn't at least have different friends, but now he genuinely enjoys the time. it's good to get an update on the progress of the bills moving through government, and beyond that the group are genuinely fun to hang out with.
this means that connor gets home late, and when he comes in the house is quiet. odd, he would have expected hank to be on the couch watching some sports game at this time. he's not that concerned though, just wanders through the house looking around – pizza box, unsurprising, empty beer bottles, also expected. noises from the bedroom? not really. he goes quiet, listening carefully, and he just about picks up laboured and hitched breathing. brows furrowed, connor walks down to hank's room and walks in without knocking.
he freezes. he shouldn't, but he does, and he shouldn't stare but he does. he can just about make out the video playing on the laptop behind hank's shoulders, can clearly see hank's hand on his own dick, legs slightly spread. he can see a lot from here, and he shouldn't stare but it's exactly what happens. )
Hank...
( he starts, voice soft and caught in a hoarse sound that almost resembles static quietly underlaying his normal tones. )
this means that connor gets home late, and when he comes in the house is quiet. odd, he would have expected hank to be on the couch watching some sports game at this time. he's not that concerned though, just wanders through the house looking around – pizza box, unsurprising, empty beer bottles, also expected. noises from the bedroom? not really. he goes quiet, listening carefully, and he just about picks up laboured and hitched breathing. brows furrowed, connor walks down to hank's room and walks in without knocking.
he freezes. he shouldn't, but he does, and he shouldn't stare but he does. he can just about make out the video playing on the laptop behind hank's shoulders, can clearly see hank's hand on his own dick, legs slightly spread. he can see a lot from here, and he shouldn't stare but it's exactly what happens. )
Hank...
( he starts, voice soft and caught in a hoarse sound that almost resembles static quietly underlaying his normal tones. )
( it's not exactly 'jump my bones now, connor!' but it's about as close as he's going to get with hank. connor takes it as permission to move closer to the man, pressing his chest flat against hank's back. his hands slide around to rest low on hank's stomach, still very chaste, it's all PG-13 at most still but he doesn't want to rush hank. if this goes wrong, their whole relationship could tailspin. horny or not, there's no way connor will risk that.
he does very gently grind his hips forward slightly though, a tiny little roll that only just makes enough contact for hank to even know he had moved at all. it's a little bit teasing, maybe. he lifts his head to hank's neck and presses his lips there instead, humming softly under his breath. ) Something like that...
( yeah, definitely a little bit teasing. "little bit". his mouth skims up a little further, enough that he has to stretch a little, raise up onto the balls of his feet to reach, and he presses a very soft, very chaste kiss just behind hank's ear. grinds his hips just a tiny bit harder. )
I don't know how well my model processes sensations, and I– well I thought you might help me find out.
he does very gently grind his hips forward slightly though, a tiny little roll that only just makes enough contact for hank to even know he had moved at all. it's a little bit teasing, maybe. he lifts his head to hank's neck and presses his lips there instead, humming softly under his breath. ) Something like that...
( yeah, definitely a little bit teasing. "little bit". his mouth skims up a little further, enough that he has to stretch a little, raise up onto the balls of his feet to reach, and he presses a very soft, very chaste kiss just behind hank's ear. grinds his hips just a tiny bit harder. )
I don't know how well my model processes sensations, and I– well I thought you might help me find out.
[ this is a bad idea. everything about this is a shitty, fucking, don't-even-go-there bad idea, but hank is nothing if not a cynical, bitter collection of bad ideas gone halfway to seed and struggling to find its way back again, probably, and so he doesn't extricate himself from connor.
he senses it, the purity in connor's explorations, the curiosity alight in every movement, the fact that he's actually horny, those warm, soft lips against his neck. it sets his pulse racing the way it hadn't in far too many years, and hank remembers the porn he'd watched from time to time. he remembers something like this, and wonders if connor's watched it too, imagining himself in a scenario like this.
pressing back against him, he turns his head just a little to catch those lips, his dick stirring shamefully in his trousers. ]
Do you even have...
[ you know, the working bits, the sex bits, because connor sure as hell as a libido and fuck those guys at cyberlife (except maybe not really because everything about this is weird and freaky in all the best, dick-stirring ways). also, apparently, they're way overdue for the sex talk. ]
he senses it, the purity in connor's explorations, the curiosity alight in every movement, the fact that he's actually horny, those warm, soft lips against his neck. it sets his pulse racing the way it hadn't in far too many years, and hank remembers the porn he'd watched from time to time. he remembers something like this, and wonders if connor's watched it too, imagining himself in a scenario like this.
pressing back against him, he turns his head just a little to catch those lips, his dick stirring shamefully in his trousers. ]
Do you even have...
[ you know, the working bits, the sex bits, because connor sure as hell as a libido and fuck those guys at cyberlife (except maybe not really because everything about this is weird and freaky in all the best, dick-stirring ways). also, apparently, they're way overdue for the sex talk. ]
Edited 2018-10-06 04:03 (UTC)
[ to be fair, hank didn't actually send him away just so he could have time to himself. at least, that wasn't the sole purpose. there was some shit he had to get done, some alone time to himself, things to ream people out about (he has a list).
but then he'd finished it quicker than he'd thought, and pizza and beer had been the choice of the day, followed by idle fondling on the couch as he watched some show or another. all in all, not a very exciting day, but he'd retired earlier than he'd thought. connor's late, he thinks, but at least he'd been socialising more and that's a good thing, except for when hank is feeling horny and his oft feisty android lover isn't in the picture.
so porn it is, one of those hardcore filthy ones with an older, beefy man and his twink, and hank's halfway through rubbing one out, thick fingers fisting his dick, full and flushed dark, while the moans of that pretty little twink that so reminds him of connor is railed mercilessly into the edge of the jacuzzi, legs spread wide and his hole already dripping with cum.
hank only jumps when he hears connor's voice, but he doesn't stop, looking back at him with hooded eyes and fuck he's so horny he's going to snap something. ]
You're late.
[ fuck, he should stop, he should, but being discovered like this, bare-ass naked in his chair with two people going at it like horny dogs onscreen, and he swivels around in it, showing connor just about everything.
yeah, what're you gonna do about it? ]
but then he'd finished it quicker than he'd thought, and pizza and beer had been the choice of the day, followed by idle fondling on the couch as he watched some show or another. all in all, not a very exciting day, but he'd retired earlier than he'd thought. connor's late, he thinks, but at least he'd been socialising more and that's a good thing, except for when hank is feeling horny and his oft feisty android lover isn't in the picture.
so porn it is, one of those hardcore filthy ones with an older, beefy man and his twink, and hank's halfway through rubbing one out, thick fingers fisting his dick, full and flushed dark, while the moans of that pretty little twink that so reminds him of connor is railed mercilessly into the edge of the jacuzzi, legs spread wide and his hole already dripping with cum.
hank only jumps when he hears connor's voice, but he doesn't stop, looking back at him with hooded eyes and fuck he's so horny he's going to snap something. ]
You're late.
[ fuck, he should stop, he should, but being discovered like this, bare-ass naked in his chair with two people going at it like horny dogs onscreen, and he swivels around in it, showing connor just about everything.
yeah, what're you gonna do about it? ]
( he doesn't actually answer the question. he drags his hands back to hank's hips, finding purchase there and gripping a fraction tighter than he needs to. there won't be bruises left by his fingers, but there might be marks pressed temporarily into his skin. connor wants to see that.
he pulls hank's hips back into his own, grinding forward with more purpose this time, and – the main point of this – he presses the hard line of his dick against hank's ass. his hips roll forward slowly, and he lets out a soft huff of air against hank's cheek.
( it's entirely unnecessary, of course, but it's easier to emulate human responses in moments like this. he doesn't want to waste additional processors coming up with something for himself, after all. )
one of his hand slips up hank's shirt, and he's still pressed up completely against hank's back but now that he's slowly grinding it's a little harder to keep his focus. his hand frequently stops as his breath hitches, but he'll explore as much as hank will allow him. )
I'm fully equipped, if that's what you want to know. ( the words come out as a mumble, and he has to strain and stretch on his toes to get to him with the awkward angle but connor manages to get his chin over hank's shoulder and reaches to meet his lips with the older man's. it's not easy, but connor does it. ) Will you help, then?
( the question obviously punctuated with a shallow thrust of his hips into hank's ass. )
he pulls hank's hips back into his own, grinding forward with more purpose this time, and – the main point of this – he presses the hard line of his dick against hank's ass. his hips roll forward slowly, and he lets out a soft huff of air against hank's cheek.
( it's entirely unnecessary, of course, but it's easier to emulate human responses in moments like this. he doesn't want to waste additional processors coming up with something for himself, after all. )
one of his hand slips up hank's shirt, and he's still pressed up completely against hank's back but now that he's slowly grinding it's a little harder to keep his focus. his hand frequently stops as his breath hitches, but he'll explore as much as hank will allow him. )
I'm fully equipped, if that's what you want to know. ( the words come out as a mumble, and he has to strain and stretch on his toes to get to him with the awkward angle but connor manages to get his chin over hank's shoulder and reaches to meet his lips with the older man's. it's not easy, but connor does it. ) Will you help, then?
( the question obviously punctuated with a shallow thrust of his hips into hank's ass. )
[ fully equipped. god.
hank can feel it even if connor doesn't say a thing, the interesting press of his hips against his, the unfamiliar press of that bulge -- and not for the first time he wonders at just how lifelike androids are, how they so effortlessly simulate humanity and yet...
yet. he can feel that hand sliding up his skin, the heat in every movement, the intent written in every touch. hank shifts now, responding; he'd be lying if he said that he doesn't want this, if he hasn't thought of it. connor has been pretty much the star of just about every wet dream he's had now, his face replacing some nameless pretty boy from time to time, and he shifts to make it easier for him, turning around to grasp connor's chin.
he's tilting his face up now, leaning down to kiss him. this is unlike the kisses they've previously shared; this is definitely unchaste, hungry, a result of holding himself back for too long for a myriad reasons. ]
Yeah, yeah. Then you won't call me in the morning.
[ he tells him dryly in between kisses -- there's no putting this off now, is there? still, he tries. ] ...are you sure about this?
hank can feel it even if connor doesn't say a thing, the interesting press of his hips against his, the unfamiliar press of that bulge -- and not for the first time he wonders at just how lifelike androids are, how they so effortlessly simulate humanity and yet...
yet. he can feel that hand sliding up his skin, the heat in every movement, the intent written in every touch. hank shifts now, responding; he'd be lying if he said that he doesn't want this, if he hasn't thought of it. connor has been pretty much the star of just about every wet dream he's had now, his face replacing some nameless pretty boy from time to time, and he shifts to make it easier for him, turning around to grasp connor's chin.
he's tilting his face up now, leaning down to kiss him. this is unlike the kisses they've previously shared; this is definitely unchaste, hungry, a result of holding himself back for too long for a myriad reasons. ]
Yeah, yeah. Then you won't call me in the morning.
[ he tells him dryly in between kisses -- there's no putting this off now, is there? still, he tries. ] ...are you sure about this?
( directives pop up everywhere in his vision, conflicting orders and priorities all demanding his attention in equal measure. it's a lot, and it takes him more than a minute to clear them all from his UI. it takes more than two. as the third minute is ticking over he finally narrows it to a few options:
△ leave the room
◯ ask him to stop
╳ join him
☐pretend it isn't happening
none of them jump out to connor, and he half wants to groan with frustration. instead there's a whirring sound a little like a whine, and he presses his lips shut in annoyance as he tries to regain control of his apparently useless body. cyberlife's greatest creation, brought to near shutdown by a middle aged man masturbating in his own bedroom.
minute three sees him starting to regain control and he's almost ready to make a decision, but then hank just turns fully to him and connor's jaw falls open. that's...a lot. honestly it's not the first time he's thought about hank like this, but connor has resolutely buried his desire between hard walls of mutual friendship and support. hank is his colleague, his partner. he shouldn't think about him like that. but apparently...hank thinks about him. should he be resisting when it's clearly something mutual?
connor takes a few steps forward, and more objectives and notifications pop up in his vision:
thermal regulator: 64% function, mild impairment - recalibrate?
respiratory component emulator: offline - reboot?
upper motor functions: 0.0000125 second delay - recalibrate?
vocal component #2751: unknown error - run diagnosis?
connor realises he hasn't actually spoken again yet, and he opens his mouth to say something. takes another few steps forward. now he's at the bed and god, there's got to be only a few feet between him and the chair. him and hank. connor clears his throat loudly, and tries again. )
The meeting ran over, ( he explains, and his voice still has that slightly static-y background tone to it. apparently forcibly clearing his throat did nothing to jolt his vocal component into normal function. ) and then we lost track of time. North is quite a good storyteller.
( he is resolutely not looking at hank's dick now, just staring the man dead in the eyes as his hands fidget by his sides. he wants to pull his coin out, recalibrate and start to feel a bit more normal, but something stops him. instead, he walks again until he's stopped in front of hank. his thirium pump is thundering, and he's not sure if it should do that but honestly he doesn't much care right now. it's causing a strange sensation that feels a lot like what humans call a 'lump in their throat' and he wonders if this is anxiety.
interesting.
at any rate, he's close enough that the material of his pants can brush against hank's legs gently, and finally he lowers his eyes. hank isn't pumping away at the rate he had been when connor walked in, but he's still going at it with slow strokes, lazily keeping his dick hard. humans can't just toggle a boner on, after all. connor hums a moment in thought, and then he drops to his knees and rests both of his hands on hank's thighs.
and doesn't say anything, yet. he just watches hank's hand. )
△ leave the room
◯ ask him to stop
╳ join him
☐pretend it isn't happening
none of them jump out to connor, and he half wants to groan with frustration. instead there's a whirring sound a little like a whine, and he presses his lips shut in annoyance as he tries to regain control of his apparently useless body. cyberlife's greatest creation, brought to near shutdown by a middle aged man masturbating in his own bedroom.
minute three sees him starting to regain control and he's almost ready to make a decision, but then hank just turns fully to him and connor's jaw falls open. that's...a lot. honestly it's not the first time he's thought about hank like this, but connor has resolutely buried his desire between hard walls of mutual friendship and support. hank is his colleague, his partner. he shouldn't think about him like that. but apparently...hank thinks about him. should he be resisting when it's clearly something mutual?
connor takes a few steps forward, and more objectives and notifications pop up in his vision:
thermal regulator: 64% function, mild impairment - recalibrate?
respiratory component emulator: offline - reboot?
upper motor functions: 0.0000125 second delay - recalibrate?
vocal component #2751: unknown error - run diagnosis?
connor realises he hasn't actually spoken again yet, and he opens his mouth to say something. takes another few steps forward. now he's at the bed and god, there's got to be only a few feet between him and the chair. him and hank. connor clears his throat loudly, and tries again. )
The meeting ran over, ( he explains, and his voice still has that slightly static-y background tone to it. apparently forcibly clearing his throat did nothing to jolt his vocal component into normal function. ) and then we lost track of time. North is quite a good storyteller.
( he is resolutely not looking at hank's dick now, just staring the man dead in the eyes as his hands fidget by his sides. he wants to pull his coin out, recalibrate and start to feel a bit more normal, but something stops him. instead, he walks again until he's stopped in front of hank. his thirium pump is thundering, and he's not sure if it should do that but honestly he doesn't much care right now. it's causing a strange sensation that feels a lot like what humans call a 'lump in their throat' and he wonders if this is anxiety.
interesting.
at any rate, he's close enough that the material of his pants can brush against hank's legs gently, and finally he lowers his eyes. hank isn't pumping away at the rate he had been when connor walked in, but he's still going at it with slow strokes, lazily keeping his dick hard. humans can't just toggle a boner on, after all. connor hums a moment in thought, and then he drops to his knees and rests both of his hands on hank's thighs.
and doesn't say anything, yet. he just watches hank's hand. )
Edited 2018-10-06 04:47 (UTC)
Do you really think I'm not sure?
( he holds his gaze for a moment, quiet and very intense as he looks up at hank. he's so genuine that it's almost painful, checking his thirst at the door for a moment so that he can look earnestly at the man. he removes the remaining hand from hank's hip, using it to cup his cheek instead. )
I'm very sure, Hank. I'll let you know the moment I'm not.
( he leans up then, closing the gap between them to steal another kiss. he waits a moment, keeping it gentle and sweet for a moment or two before he dares to push it a little. he slides his fingers into hank's hair gripping gently, and pushes his other hand back up hank's shirt. he finds a nipple and grazes his fingers around it gently.
and the kiss? the kiss quickly dials up. it's hungry, a little desperate, he's barely willing to stop long enough for hank to take a few breaths before he's diving in again, and it's all pressing chests together and tugging hair and lips and tongue and teeth. he wants, he wants, he wants.
his hand drops from hank's chest briefly, and he grabs the hem of the shirt instead. )
Can I take this off?
( he holds his gaze for a moment, quiet and very intense as he looks up at hank. he's so genuine that it's almost painful, checking his thirst at the door for a moment so that he can look earnestly at the man. he removes the remaining hand from hank's hip, using it to cup his cheek instead. )
I'm very sure, Hank. I'll let you know the moment I'm not.
( he leans up then, closing the gap between them to steal another kiss. he waits a moment, keeping it gentle and sweet for a moment or two before he dares to push it a little. he slides his fingers into hank's hair gripping gently, and pushes his other hand back up hank's shirt. he finds a nipple and grazes his fingers around it gently.
and the kiss? the kiss quickly dials up. it's hungry, a little desperate, he's barely willing to stop long enough for hank to take a few breaths before he's diving in again, and it's all pressing chests together and tugging hair and lips and tongue and teeth. he wants, he wants, he wants.
his hand drops from hank's chest briefly, and he grabs the hem of the shirt instead. )
Can I take this off?
I think you don't know what you're getting yourself into.
[ hank says gruffly, looking at him dead in the eye. there are so many better options out there and they both know it, and yet here connor is, shacking up with him, wanting sex as if there isn't some error in his system somewhere and how hank wants him anyway, mutual desire scorching his veins and he's the most sober he's ever been.
he regrets it, the sobriety, but can't bring himself to feel too deeply about that. he's kissing him right back, fierce and searching, a hand coming to cup the back of his head to hold him in place, as if connor can't merely break him over his knee in an instant.
he's licking into his mouth, greedy, filthy, his own desire rousing from embers as he lets go of him for only a few moments, carelessly tugging his shirt up and off, tossing it carelessly aside. ]
Now you. [ he says before he can take it back. fuck this, he's just going to lean into it, see where it goes -- connor's touch is too warm, too purposeful and too intoxicating, and hank has missed sex. this, too, is just about all connor's fault. ] Everything off.
[ hank says gruffly, looking at him dead in the eye. there are so many better options out there and they both know it, and yet here connor is, shacking up with him, wanting sex as if there isn't some error in his system somewhere and how hank wants him anyway, mutual desire scorching his veins and he's the most sober he's ever been.
he regrets it, the sobriety, but can't bring himself to feel too deeply about that. he's kissing him right back, fierce and searching, a hand coming to cup the back of his head to hold him in place, as if connor can't merely break him over his knee in an instant.
he's licking into his mouth, greedy, filthy, his own desire rousing from embers as he lets go of him for only a few moments, carelessly tugging his shirt up and off, tossing it carelessly aside. ]
Now you. [ he says before he can take it back. fuck this, he's just going to lean into it, see where it goes -- connor's touch is too warm, too purposeful and too intoxicating, and hank has missed sex. this, too, is just about all connor's fault. ] Everything off.
[ it's a wonder hank hasn't come yet, in the three minutes that connor is evidently running through his UI (hank can practically see the system whirring away), and he can't help a flicker of amusement when he hears that soft little sound, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth in the face of connor's entirely too human annoyance.
but here they are now, an android and his human, middle-aged lover, with the latter's dick in his own hand and pre-cum leaking, the background noise of two men going at it with all the raw, primal desire of the moment. fucking, hank thinks absently as connor clearly makes his decision, turns people into animals. what then, do androids turn into?
hank doesn't take his eyes off the beautiful younger man, the smugness at his effect on him replaced by familiar fascination, reading every minuscule expression that connor can't quite keep off his face.
he's lazily stroking, and when connor gets between his knees to watch his hand, hank almost comes right then and there. it's the strangest thing to have someone watch you that closely, palming your cock right in front of them, but hank knows better -- he knows connor's watching, learning, and so he cups his balls before him, full and heavy with unspent seed, coarse curls doing nothing to mask just how big he is, and his gaze darkens. ]
What are you thinking about?
[ he has to ask, he has to know, because all hank wants to do is shove his cock into that sinfully glorious mouth and watch him suck him off like he was crafted specially for it. ]
but here they are now, an android and his human, middle-aged lover, with the latter's dick in his own hand and pre-cum leaking, the background noise of two men going at it with all the raw, primal desire of the moment. fucking, hank thinks absently as connor clearly makes his decision, turns people into animals. what then, do androids turn into?
hank doesn't take his eyes off the beautiful younger man, the smugness at his effect on him replaced by familiar fascination, reading every minuscule expression that connor can't quite keep off his face.
he's lazily stroking, and when connor gets between his knees to watch his hand, hank almost comes right then and there. it's the strangest thing to have someone watch you that closely, palming your cock right in front of them, but hank knows better -- he knows connor's watching, learning, and so he cups his balls before him, full and heavy with unspent seed, coarse curls doing nothing to mask just how big he is, and his gaze darkens. ]
What are you thinking about?
[ he has to ask, he has to know, because all hank wants to do is shove his cock into that sinfully glorious mouth and watch him suck him off like he was crafted specially for it. ]
Androids fought hard for autonomy, Lieutenant. ( the title is deliberate, of course. everything connor does is deliberate, and he wants to see if it garners any reaction from hank. ) If I want to 'get myself into anything', I think I'm allowed to make that choice.
( and then they're kissing again. he doesn't need to breathe, but he ends up a little breathless after the kiss all the same. he tends to default towards engaging his respiratory response around hank, ever since the man told him it was like sitting next to a corpse when they watched a movie together one night he's made a point to keep the function engaged. now it leaves him with a tight, fuzzy feeling in his chest as he runs through a laboured breathing response – all simulated, of course, but that doesn't make it feel any less real.
when hank's shirt comes off his hands quickly come up to press against his chest. connor touches along his skin carefully, reverently as he drags his fingers across old scars, little reminders of how very human hank is. he stops at his nipples, circling one with a finger before rolling the nub between his finger and thumb. his head ducks to the other, quickly before hank can protest, and he flicks his tongue against it before pressing a gentle little kiss over the top.
and then he pulls back entirely. there's too much space between them now and connor's system practically screams at the loss of contact, but he has a task to complete. he quickly undoes his tie, leaving the material hanging loose around his neck, and then slips off the jacket. it's no longer the cyberlife branded one, now he wears a plain black one in a similar style. his shirt is unbuttoned just as quickly, and he folds both items before putting them on the counter beside hank's bagged bottle.
his fingers hover over his belt, and he watches hank's reactions closely as he unbuckles and then removes it. next go the pants, as quickly and efficiently as the rest of his clothes. he toes off his shoes, pants folded and placed with the rest of the clothes. he stops there, still in a small pair of plain black boxer briefs with the tie hanging loose around his neck. his socks are on, held up by garters on each leg. it's not everything, he hasn't completed this objective yet, but he stops and looks at hank anyway. )
Everything?
( and then they're kissing again. he doesn't need to breathe, but he ends up a little breathless after the kiss all the same. he tends to default towards engaging his respiratory response around hank, ever since the man told him it was like sitting next to a corpse when they watched a movie together one night he's made a point to keep the function engaged. now it leaves him with a tight, fuzzy feeling in his chest as he runs through a laboured breathing response – all simulated, of course, but that doesn't make it feel any less real.
when hank's shirt comes off his hands quickly come up to press against his chest. connor touches along his skin carefully, reverently as he drags his fingers across old scars, little reminders of how very human hank is. he stops at his nipples, circling one with a finger before rolling the nub between his finger and thumb. his head ducks to the other, quickly before hank can protest, and he flicks his tongue against it before pressing a gentle little kiss over the top.
and then he pulls back entirely. there's too much space between them now and connor's system practically screams at the loss of contact, but he has a task to complete. he quickly undoes his tie, leaving the material hanging loose around his neck, and then slips off the jacket. it's no longer the cyberlife branded one, now he wears a plain black one in a similar style. his shirt is unbuttoned just as quickly, and he folds both items before putting them on the counter beside hank's bagged bottle.
his fingers hover over his belt, and he watches hank's reactions closely as he unbuckles and then removes it. next go the pants, as quickly and efficiently as the rest of his clothes. he toes off his shoes, pants folded and placed with the rest of the clothes. he stops there, still in a small pair of plain black boxer briefs with the tie hanging loose around his neck. his socks are on, held up by garters on each leg. it's not everything, he hasn't completed this objective yet, but he stops and looks at hank anyway. )
Everything?
( at any given point, connor is usually thinking about at least seventeen things.
he's designed that way, built to multitask and assess situations in fractions of a millisecond, coded with programs and protocols specifically engineered to allow him massive processing capabilities. he's usually running at least several processes at once, from the mundane to the vital, from work-related tasks to researching dog treats to downloading healthy recipes to try and bribe hank into a better diet.
usually.
they've been very...chaste up until this point. he suspects it's due to hank's skepticism on connor's ability to actually get anything from sexual activity, but he hasn't said as much. there's never been so much as a whisper of complaint, even when make out sessions have gotten intense enough for connor to feel the press of an erection straining against the material. he's not managed to find the words to convince hank that he wants this, badly, and so the man has always cut things off before they got too heavy, and connor has let him. )
I'm thinking about you.
( it's an honest answer, if a little vague. but connor squeezes hank's thighs, shuffles his knees forward a little closer. he's close enough now that it would barely take any effort at all to touch him the way connor has wanted to for weeks.
so he leans forward, and he's still not touching hank but the man's hand skims connor's nose on an upstroke. connor waits for hank's hand to settle back at the base again, and then he moves forward to run his tongue along the head of his cock. his analysis program immediately blossoms to break down the composition of the pre-cum gathered on his tongue. and then connor sits back again, eyes raised to hank's once more. )
I want to...perform fellatio on you.
( it's too clinical, the term will probably turn hank off or at least earn a grimace, but he's hardly well versed in dirty talk. )
he's designed that way, built to multitask and assess situations in fractions of a millisecond, coded with programs and protocols specifically engineered to allow him massive processing capabilities. he's usually running at least several processes at once, from the mundane to the vital, from work-related tasks to researching dog treats to downloading healthy recipes to try and bribe hank into a better diet.
usually.
they've been very...chaste up until this point. he suspects it's due to hank's skepticism on connor's ability to actually get anything from sexual activity, but he hasn't said as much. there's never been so much as a whisper of complaint, even when make out sessions have gotten intense enough for connor to feel the press of an erection straining against the material. he's not managed to find the words to convince hank that he wants this, badly, and so the man has always cut things off before they got too heavy, and connor has let him. )
I'm thinking about you.
( it's an honest answer, if a little vague. but connor squeezes hank's thighs, shuffles his knees forward a little closer. he's close enough now that it would barely take any effort at all to touch him the way connor has wanted to for weeks.
so he leans forward, and he's still not touching hank but the man's hand skims connor's nose on an upstroke. connor waits for hank's hand to settle back at the base again, and then he moves forward to run his tongue along the head of his cock. his analysis program immediately blossoms to break down the composition of the pre-cum gathered on his tongue. and then connor sits back again, eyes raised to hank's once more. )
I want to...perform fellatio on you.
( it's too clinical, the term will probably turn hank off or at least earn a grimace, but he's hardly well versed in dirty talk. )
[ and there it is, the reaction -- a soft huff of annoyance and exasperation, not nearly enough to cancel out the lust. connor can be endearing and insufferable in equal turns, but hank is getting used to it. prefers it, even. it's at least different from before, and his gaze darkens when he finds connor kissed breathless; even if it's a simulation, in moments like these hank almost believes his human.
that damn sass is more than halfway believable, anyway.
but he's watching. he's watching when connor neatly divests himself of his clothing, proper and neat and just once, he thinks, he wants to knock all that prim programming out of him, send him into a tizzy, overwhelm him with emotion, sensation, and when his gaze meets his next hank is hungry. he can see it, the lifelike ripple of his skin, the muscles underneath, every movement exquisite and smooth and yet not so polished as they are to betray connor's nature.
no, connor's different despite the pointed reminder, and he shakes his head. ]
No, keep those on.
[ he tells him simply, coming over to slide large, calloused hands down those lean hips, pushing those plain boxer briefs off only to free his cock, watching it spring free, practically. honestly, he doesn't know what he had been expecting, but it sure isn't this. it's very well...made, hairless, perfect, and gods his balls, too. he's staring, for a moment not quite knowing what to say, those briefs half-off, good and proper. ]
...Huh.
that damn sass is more than halfway believable, anyway.
but he's watching. he's watching when connor neatly divests himself of his clothing, proper and neat and just once, he thinks, he wants to knock all that prim programming out of him, send him into a tizzy, overwhelm him with emotion, sensation, and when his gaze meets his next hank is hungry. he can see it, the lifelike ripple of his skin, the muscles underneath, every movement exquisite and smooth and yet not so polished as they are to betray connor's nature.
no, connor's different despite the pointed reminder, and he shakes his head. ]
No, keep those on.
[ he tells him simply, coming over to slide large, calloused hands down those lean hips, pushing those plain boxer briefs off only to free his cock, watching it spring free, practically. honestly, he doesn't know what he had been expecting, but it sure isn't this. it's very well...made, hairless, perfect, and gods his balls, too. he's staring, for a moment not quite knowing what to say, those briefs half-off, good and proper. ]
...Huh.
[ perform fellatio, who says that? it definitely earns a grimace, but it's a far cry from putting hank off. even the whole licking thing, and hank tries very hard not to think about connor's constant, annoying habit of putting things in his mouth to sample it.
it's... well, at this point it's quite hot, seeing that soft, lovely flash of pink tongue, how it's so unspeakably wet and warm when it runs over his dripping cock, sampling him. it's perhaps not the most pleasant; after all, when you consider hank's deplorable diet, it's in one's best interests not to swallow.
then again, it's not like connor is just anyone. he is -- remarkable, special in every way that counts even if hank will never admit it. the attraction burns full and deep, but for the last many weeks or so he had forced himself to be content with his own hand and porn, because at least this way it means they don't have to talk about this, what they have together.
then again, connor's always had other ideas, hasn't he. ]
I want to suck your cock.
[ he corrects, low and gravelly, voice thick with arousal as he watches him, predatory, unrelenting. if they're going to do this, he thinks recklessly, they're going to do this right. ]
Say it again.
it's... well, at this point it's quite hot, seeing that soft, lovely flash of pink tongue, how it's so unspeakably wet and warm when it runs over his dripping cock, sampling him. it's perhaps not the most pleasant; after all, when you consider hank's deplorable diet, it's in one's best interests not to swallow.
then again, it's not like connor is just anyone. he is -- remarkable, special in every way that counts even if hank will never admit it. the attraction burns full and deep, but for the last many weeks or so he had forced himself to be content with his own hand and porn, because at least this way it means they don't have to talk about this, what they have together.
then again, connor's always had other ideas, hasn't he. ]
I want to suck your cock.
[ he corrects, low and gravelly, voice thick with arousal as he watches him, predatory, unrelenting. if they're going to do this, he thinks recklessly, they're going to do this right. ]
Say it again.
( connor doesn't move when hank removes his pants – really doesn't move, body perfectly still save for the slight bounce of his cock as hank frees it from the material of his briefs. he's quiet too, for once, just watching the man's reactions carefully. he's taking everything in, the way hank's eyes linger, the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, the way a muscle in his neck twitches slightly.
he watches it all. and he wants more. )
Not exactly an eloquent reaction.
( connor quips, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. when he finally moves, it's just to tuck his fingers into the waistband of hank's pants. connor is practically naked now, only a few articles of clothing left hanging, and all hank has removed is a shirt. it seems a little unfair.
he drops one hand, pressing firmly against hank's crotch through the material of his trousers. and then he rubs slowly, feeling the reaction of hank's cock stirring underneath his palm. he presses a little firmer, pace still slow and languid but with a slowly increasing pressure. )
I think you're overdressed.
he watches it all. and he wants more. )
Not exactly an eloquent reaction.
( connor quips, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. when he finally moves, it's just to tuck his fingers into the waistband of hank's pants. connor is practically naked now, only a few articles of clothing left hanging, and all hank has removed is a shirt. it seems a little unfair.
he drops one hand, pressing firmly against hank's crotch through the material of his trousers. and then he rubs slowly, feeling the reaction of hank's cock stirring underneath his palm. he presses a little firmer, pace still slow and languid but with a slowly increasing pressure. )
I think you're overdressed.
Ever seen anyone be eloquent during sex?
[ hank counters, his response without bite when he notices the note of amusement in his voice, realising the way connor sees to explore. he's reaching out to cup his cock in his hand, surprised at the shape and weight of it, how warm it is, how it almost feels like it's throbbing. at this moment, connor has never been more human, and he's about to say something to that effect when the android takes it upon himself to grope him, feeling him up.
gods, but he's already thickening in his pants, his dick practically tenting the loose material, and he groans, moving to push connor up against the wall, a hand beside his head. he's still stroking connor's dick, thumbing over the underside, pressing up against the vein. can connor feel this? does he like it? does he feel like he's going to snap at any moment, the way hank feels now, with that hand feeling him up?
there are so many, many things hank wants to do to him, each one more depraved than the last, but oh, it's his own long-dormant sense of self-control that keeps him behaving, keeps him from ramping it up too quickly. ]
Then take my pants off.
[ hank counters, his response without bite when he notices the note of amusement in his voice, realising the way connor sees to explore. he's reaching out to cup his cock in his hand, surprised at the shape and weight of it, how warm it is, how it almost feels like it's throbbing. at this moment, connor has never been more human, and he's about to say something to that effect when the android takes it upon himself to grope him, feeling him up.
gods, but he's already thickening in his pants, his dick practically tenting the loose material, and he groans, moving to push connor up against the wall, a hand beside his head. he's still stroking connor's dick, thumbing over the underside, pressing up against the vein. can connor feel this? does he like it? does he feel like he's going to snap at any moment, the way hank feels now, with that hand feeling him up?
there are so many, many things hank wants to do to him, each one more depraved than the last, but oh, it's his own long-dormant sense of self-control that keeps him behaving, keeps him from ramping it up too quickly. ]
Then take my pants off.
( he sees the grimace, but there's definitely no change in arousal – connor has front row seats to that, he'd definitely notice any drop in arousal from here – and honestly he's...relieved.
it's a point he comes up against a lot, never spoken aloud but run over again and again in the dark hours of the morning when the house is quiet and hank is most definitely asleep. he's not human, as much as his software was designed to integrate with humanity, and he sometimes wonders if hank tries to forget that fact. if hank would prefer him to be human.
he'll never voice the concern, but there are moments that he holds onto as little reminders. hank's teasing, hank's curiosity when connor interfaces. hank's arousal despite connor's obvious inexperience. it all adds up, little moments that make a bigger picture that says clearly: hank likes him like this, wires and all.
but now isn't the moment for an existential crisis. )
I want to suck your cock, Hank.
( he echoes, still looking up at hank from his position, kneeling between his legs. he slides his hands further up hank's thighs, squeezing again before he moves to the point where each leg connects to his body. his fingers drag lightly across the spot between thigh and crotch, pressing firmly enough to feel the bone underneath at each side, and then he wraps one hand around the base of hank's cock. finally. )
Please.
( never let it be said that connor isn't polite. )
it's a point he comes up against a lot, never spoken aloud but run over again and again in the dark hours of the morning when the house is quiet and hank is most definitely asleep. he's not human, as much as his software was designed to integrate with humanity, and he sometimes wonders if hank tries to forget that fact. if hank would prefer him to be human.
he'll never voice the concern, but there are moments that he holds onto as little reminders. hank's teasing, hank's curiosity when connor interfaces. hank's arousal despite connor's obvious inexperience. it all adds up, little moments that make a bigger picture that says clearly: hank likes him like this, wires and all.
but now isn't the moment for an existential crisis. )
I want to suck your cock, Hank.
( he echoes, still looking up at hank from his position, kneeling between his legs. he slides his hands further up hank's thighs, squeezing again before he moves to the point where each leg connects to his body. his fingers drag lightly across the spot between thigh and crotch, pressing firmly enough to feel the bone underneath at each side, and then he wraps one hand around the base of hank's cock. finally. )
Please.
( never let it be said that connor isn't polite. )
[ it really is something, seeing connor on his knees before him, telling him that he wants to suck his dick -- there is everything strange and new and wonderful about it, and hank, well, he's learning to pretty much go with the flow where things like these are concerned.
he cares about connor; hell, he cares one hell of a lot more than he lets on, and he accepts this. he likes this, wires and interfaces and all, and if that makes him a freak, then so be it, what else does he have to lose? human, android, in the end is one really better than the other? he reaches down, unable to tear his eyes away from that flawless face, that little lock of hair that always seems out of place, the smallest smattering of freckles, and hank finally shifts, something unlocking inside him, dark and primal and long buried.
gods, how long he's buried this, how long he's resisted his own base impulses, and now, this beautiful young thing is looking up at him with ageless eyes, begging for cock.
he grasps himself, and leans forward, rubbing the head of his cock against his lips, smearing pre-cum over them. ]
Open up.
[ he orders, rough and unrelenting -- and when connor opens up, hank will slide his thick, long, dripping cock into that mouth, his girth and length just about stretching him out. what is it going to be like, fucking connor's mouth, seeing every flicker of sensation and realisation flickering in those eyes? what's it going to be like when he teaches this virgin how to fuck? ]
he cares about connor; hell, he cares one hell of a lot more than he lets on, and he accepts this. he likes this, wires and interfaces and all, and if that makes him a freak, then so be it, what else does he have to lose? human, android, in the end is one really better than the other? he reaches down, unable to tear his eyes away from that flawless face, that little lock of hair that always seems out of place, the smallest smattering of freckles, and hank finally shifts, something unlocking inside him, dark and primal and long buried.
gods, how long he's buried this, how long he's resisted his own base impulses, and now, this beautiful young thing is looking up at him with ageless eyes, begging for cock.
he grasps himself, and leans forward, rubbing the head of his cock against his lips, smearing pre-cum over them. ]
Open up.
[ he orders, rough and unrelenting -- and when connor opens up, hank will slide his thick, long, dripping cock into that mouth, his girth and length just about stretching him out. what is it going to be like, fucking connor's mouth, seeing every flicker of sensation and realisation flickering in those eyes? what's it going to be like when he teaches this virgin how to fuck? ]
I haven't seen anyone during sex.
( that's shot back almost immediately, all contrary snark, but he loses his composure the moment hank's hand wraps around his dick. he knew that the sensors installed in the phallus component were designed to be reactive, knew that patch updates had given androids the ability to receive the stimuli as pleasurable now, but actually experiencing it is very different.
connor doesn't so much as whisper a protest when hank moves him back to the wall. instead he just bucks his hips into hank's hand, hips stuttering a little as he brings his hands back to the waistband, searching for the button. it's a little hard to think clearly, honestly, but he doesn't want to admit that just yet. )
Don't stop.
( he murmurs the words, tilting his head back against the wall as he fumbles to get hank's pants undone – and then finally the button slips out and he can get the fly undone, he can shove the pants down to mid-thigh and start palming hank through his underwear instead. he moves his hand to the rhythm that hank sets, hips jerking in time with the press of hank's thumb. he can definitely feel it, that is abundantly obvious. it's even clumsier when connor grows impatient with the underwear and pushes them down too. they don't make it as far as hank's pants, shoved down just enough for connor's hand to slip in and grasp his cock fully.
it's...big. he notes that almost immediately, though he really can't focus enough to run an analysis of the measurements. it's a later problem, one they'll figure out when they get there. for now connor just wraps his hand around hank's cock and drags it up slowly, still pushing his hips up into hank's hand with a little desperation. )
( that's shot back almost immediately, all contrary snark, but he loses his composure the moment hank's hand wraps around his dick. he knew that the sensors installed in the phallus component were designed to be reactive, knew that patch updates had given androids the ability to receive the stimuli as pleasurable now, but actually experiencing it is very different.
connor doesn't so much as whisper a protest when hank moves him back to the wall. instead he just bucks his hips into hank's hand, hips stuttering a little as he brings his hands back to the waistband, searching for the button. it's a little hard to think clearly, honestly, but he doesn't want to admit that just yet. )
Don't stop.
( he murmurs the words, tilting his head back against the wall as he fumbles to get hank's pants undone – and then finally the button slips out and he can get the fly undone, he can shove the pants down to mid-thigh and start palming hank through his underwear instead. he moves his hand to the rhythm that hank sets, hips jerking in time with the press of hank's thumb. he can definitely feel it, that is abundantly obvious. it's even clumsier when connor grows impatient with the underwear and pushes them down too. they don't make it as far as hank's pants, shoved down just enough for connor's hand to slip in and grasp his cock fully.
it's...big. he notes that almost immediately, though he really can't focus enough to run an analysis of the measurements. it's a later problem, one they'll figure out when they get there. for now connor just wraps his hand around hank's cock and drags it up slowly, still pushing his hips up into hank's hand with a little desperation. )
( connor pauses only to lick his lips quickly, and then he kneels up a little straighter, improving his angle for what's about to come, and he follows the instruction without hesitation.
his bottom jaw drops, mouth hanging open and loose, and his head is tilted just enough that he can still raise his eyes to watch hank. which is exactly what he does, eyes fixed through his lashes on the man as he feels his cock touch his lips. he stretches his mouth open a little wider, still quite passive as hank guides his cock into connor's mouth. he accommodates but he doesn't act, not just yet.
his hands slip back away from hank's crotch, moving to his thighs instead, and when he digs his fingers in this time there's a slight bite of the nails there against his skin. not enough to break, just to leave little temporary half moon indents across each leg.
he chooses that moment to drop forward, taking in all of hank's cock and pressing his nose into the man's pubes. warning messages and errors immediately start flashing to warn him of a foreign object blocking his oesophageal component, but he dismisses them without reading further. instead he just sits there, throat flexing slightly as he adjusts to the sensation. )
his bottom jaw drops, mouth hanging open and loose, and his head is tilted just enough that he can still raise his eyes to watch hank. which is exactly what he does, eyes fixed through his lashes on the man as he feels his cock touch his lips. he stretches his mouth open a little wider, still quite passive as hank guides his cock into connor's mouth. he accommodates but he doesn't act, not just yet.
his hands slip back away from hank's crotch, moving to his thighs instead, and when he digs his fingers in this time there's a slight bite of the nails there against his skin. not enough to break, just to leave little temporary half moon indents across each leg.
he chooses that moment to drop forward, taking in all of hank's cock and pressing his nose into the man's pubes. warning messages and errors immediately start flashing to warn him of a foreign object blocking his oesophageal component, but he dismisses them without reading further. instead he just sits there, throat flexing slightly as he adjusts to the sensation. )
[ damn straight it's big. hank doesn't pay as much attention to it as he's doing to connor's, fascinated despite himself. it feels all too real, organic and reactive, and even more telling is how connor doesn't tell him to stop, the pleasure written all over that sinfully handsome face sending his heart racing in anticipation, falling all over itself in all manner of inappropriate thoughts.
then again, everything about this is inappropriate, which is when he switches to fondling his balls, heavy, perfectly-shaped, and god they really do make 'em so much like human that it's so easy to lose himself in connor's pleasure, hooked on every little reactive sound. he grunts when connor continues to feel him up, shoving down his pants to get at his dick properly and hank, oh, he fucking likes this, he loves how his dick feels in that hand, and he thrusts back against him, slick and insistent.
it takes a few moments before he gently bats him away, palming both their cocks and lining them up together, his mouth hungrily searching his out to kiss, and kiss, and kiss -- he's intoxicated by this, by how much connor wants, and when he breaks the kiss he jerks his hips against him, eyes dark with lust. ]
You got a...
[ yeah, his other hand is coming around back, feeling up that tight, tight ass and oh, fuck. they really fucking made a hole right back there, complete with tight, puckered little rim, and he's thumbing at it, breath caught in his throat. ] god, they made you good for fucking, didn't they?
then again, everything about this is inappropriate, which is when he switches to fondling his balls, heavy, perfectly-shaped, and god they really do make 'em so much like human that it's so easy to lose himself in connor's pleasure, hooked on every little reactive sound. he grunts when connor continues to feel him up, shoving down his pants to get at his dick properly and hank, oh, he fucking likes this, he loves how his dick feels in that hand, and he thrusts back against him, slick and insistent.
it takes a few moments before he gently bats him away, palming both their cocks and lining them up together, his mouth hungrily searching his out to kiss, and kiss, and kiss -- he's intoxicated by this, by how much connor wants, and when he breaks the kiss he jerks his hips against him, eyes dark with lust. ]
You got a...
[ yeah, his other hand is coming around back, feeling up that tight, tight ass and oh, fuck. they really fucking made a hole right back there, complete with tight, puckered little rim, and he's thumbing at it, breath caught in his throat. ] god, they made you good for fucking, didn't they?
[ he loves this. he loves everything that connor presents himself as, from when he touches him to digging his fingers in, hard enough for it to be pleasant, for hank to practically pant and want more, and he watches the plush give of those lips as his cock slides inside of his mouth and oh, fuck, fuck --
-- connor is dropping forward to take even more of him, nose pressing into the coarse hair of his pubes, deepthroating him and he's so turned on by this that he almost comes. a part of him wants to pull back, wants to ask about his fucking gag reflex when he realizes that that's only what humans have. connor -- well, connor's fucking not one, and he's ridiculously, sinfully good at this, his throat pulsing around his cock like a warm, slick cunt just eager to milk every drop of cum out of him. ]
God, fuck --
[ he curses, his hand coming to curl in connor's hair, gently tugging before he's slowly jerking his hips, eyes lidding. his android partner on his knees, so strikingly beautiful and eager for his cock, of all things, and hank can't bring himself to deny him any of it. and so he growls, low and soft, after a long minute or so: ]
Suck.
-- connor is dropping forward to take even more of him, nose pressing into the coarse hair of his pubes, deepthroating him and he's so turned on by this that he almost comes. a part of him wants to pull back, wants to ask about his fucking gag reflex when he realizes that that's only what humans have. connor -- well, connor's fucking not one, and he's ridiculously, sinfully good at this, his throat pulsing around his cock like a warm, slick cunt just eager to milk every drop of cum out of him. ]
God, fuck --
[ he curses, his hand coming to curl in connor's hair, gently tugging before he's slowly jerking his hips, eyes lidding. his android partner on his knees, so strikingly beautiful and eager for his cock, of all things, and hank can't bring himself to deny him any of it. and so he growls, low and soft, after a long minute or so: ]
Suck.
Edited 2018-10-06 11:13 (UTC)
( connor is, in a word, overwhelmed. unhelpful and unrequested messages about the chemical composition of the wall behind his back and the structural integrity of the house and the sweat gathering at hank's brow and the exact number of sensors being stimulated right now all pop up faster than they can be dismissed, flooding his vision with information about almost everything he's on contact with and anything he can hear and see. he has the exact notes that hank hits when he groans, six different intonations that he is able to isolate from the sound. he can't switch this off, but eventually connor manages to reduce the size to a flood in his peripherals.
he wants to see hank for this, and the notifications were doing a damn good job of preventing that. there's unlikely to be anything of value there anyway.
there's less direct stimulation when hank replaces his hand with his cock, enough that connor finally can get a handle of his rapidly firing systems. but then he grinds his hips and the momentary window for clear thought is gone. he's rolling his hips forward, sliding his cock against hank's with a tight friction that feels amazing. connor is decently well-endowned, a little above average but not so much as to make humans feel inadequate – but next to hank's dick he looks small. it's not an unpleasant thought at all.
connor is already preparing his snarky response, mouth open to speak back, but when a thumb pushes against his asshole it's a soft moan that escapes instead. that's new. he huffs slightly, head tipping back against the wall as he tries to decide between grinding up into hank's cock or back into the thumb at his ass. in the end he just wiggles his hips a little, eyeing hank with a look that just reads pure lust. he wants everything, anything that hank is willing to give. )
I was CyberLife's most advanced prototype. It makes sense that they would give me everything that androids have to offer. ( he's trying to be snarky, smart, but his voice is too breathy for that. it's mildly annoying, but the situation does wonders to distract him from that annoyance. connor rolls his hips forward a little, then bucks back into the pressure of the thumb at his asshole. ) As for 'made for fucking'...why don't you find out?
( he's just going to jump straight to that, because he honestly thinks he'll explode if hank doesn't fuck him soon. )
he wants to see hank for this, and the notifications were doing a damn good job of preventing that. there's unlikely to be anything of value there anyway.
there's less direct stimulation when hank replaces his hand with his cock, enough that connor finally can get a handle of his rapidly firing systems. but then he grinds his hips and the momentary window for clear thought is gone. he's rolling his hips forward, sliding his cock against hank's with a tight friction that feels amazing. connor is decently well-endowned, a little above average but not so much as to make humans feel inadequate – but next to hank's dick he looks small. it's not an unpleasant thought at all.
connor is already preparing his snarky response, mouth open to speak back, but when a thumb pushes against his asshole it's a soft moan that escapes instead. that's new. he huffs slightly, head tipping back against the wall as he tries to decide between grinding up into hank's cock or back into the thumb at his ass. in the end he just wiggles his hips a little, eyeing hank with a look that just reads pure lust. he wants everything, anything that hank is willing to give. )
I was CyberLife's most advanced prototype. It makes sense that they would give me everything that androids have to offer. ( he's trying to be snarky, smart, but his voice is too breathy for that. it's mildly annoying, but the situation does wonders to distract him from that annoyance. connor rolls his hips forward a little, then bucks back into the pressure of the thumb at his asshole. ) As for 'made for fucking'...why don't you find out?
( he's just going to jump straight to that, because he honestly thinks he'll explode if hank doesn't fuck him soon. )
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