( something pretty title later )

[greeted]

( maybe this is a common feature of human acquaintances when drunk. he's aware, of course, that alcohol increases the likelihood of a sexual encounter between individuals less likely to engage in the act sober. he's aware of the importance of friends looking out for each other's best interests. he's even aware that there's a long and varied list of silly things humans try in attempts to reduce the effects of alcohol (coffee, really?) but in all that knowledge and programming regarding humans and alcohol consumption, this had never been mentioned.

to backtrack quickly --

connor finds hank wasted and alone and possibly suicidal.
connor knows he has an obligation to preserve human life.
connor knows hank is a vital aspect of the rogue android investigation.
connor feels-

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

connor knows an improved relationship with hank will lead to a more successful partnership.
connor brings hank to the shower to deaden the effects of ethanol intoxication.
connor should get him a change of clothes.
connor hesitates-

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

hank reaches out.

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

he grabs connor's tie.

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

this isn't in his programming, he's not got a protocol tree to follow in the event of a coworker making any kind of intimate advance. connor can only stare at hank's hand gripped around his tie, LED flickering yellow as his eyes move between the hand and hank's own unreadable expression.

what exactly is the directive here? )

Lieutenant.

( they're both getting wet now, not that connor notices the water falling around them. he's far too busy dealing with some kind of artificial existential crisis to care about a suit he didn't even choose getting damp. he cares about furthering the progress of the case. he cares about navigating this scenario with the best possible outcome for his relationship with lieutenant anderson. he cares-

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

the LED flickers faster, angry flashes in his peripherals a visual confession to the struggle he's battling with to choose a path. there's nothing for this in the manual.

so that's what he does. his voice drops, quiet and gentle and...hesitant? you'd be forgiven for almost thinking androids might have emotions, witnessing this interaction. )

I don't know what to do.

( ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy
ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

ｓｏ ｆｔｗar ｅ ｉｎ ｓ ｔ ａ bi ｌ ｉ ｔy

help him. )

Comments

[greeted]

( hank might be in the middle of an existential crisis but connor is going through something...completely undefinable. there's a kind of high that comes with "making a decision" - as much as it can be considered a decision, anyway - and connor is just throwing himself into this action. it's only when hank pulls back that he remembers humans need to breathe and makes a note for a timer prompt to pop up when they kiss next time. he doesn't want hank to pass out, after all.

his head drops back at the contact to his throat. it's interesting - he doesn't know if he would describe the sensation as pleasurable, but it's something. it's something that makes him want more, maybe. definitely he doesn't want him to stop, and while one hand rather roughly shoves hank's shirt up the other drops down and slides along his hip. drags over his waistband. stops at the zipper. )

Can I?

( the question is low and throaty, as much to do with pre-programmed seduction mechanisms as it is his whirring mechanisms unable to dedicate enough processor usage to modulate his voice correctly. his hand grazes over hank's crotch, first gently and the with a little more purpose. his palm rests, flat but firm over the trousers against the line of hank's cock, but he doesn't move further. waiting for the response first. )