Work Text:
Day one, stable.
Day two, stable.
Day three, stable.
Day four, stable.
Day twenty, Connor senses an anomaly in his software. He’s staring at you when he senses it. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear while you were working. He brushes it off, they were bound to happen and it fixes itself.
Day twenty-three. “Good morning, Connor.” He thinks you look beautiful, even with sleep still washed over your features. He’s aware that he shouldn’t think that of you, but he’ll analyze it later, fix it later.
He gives you a small smile back, one that he seems to reserve just for you. “Good morning, detective.”
That’s the extent of day twenty-three.
Day twenty-six. He’s watching you again, he’s extremely obvious. You’re extremely oblivious to it, though. He wants to walk over to you, ask you how you’re doing, if you need any assistance. He doesn’t worry over that, he’s sure he’d do just the same for Hank or anyone else in the station.
You look up when you hear the android approaching. He stands at the side of your desk, hands clasped behind his back. “How are you, detective?”
Day thirty-five. You’re looking at Connor with the biggest smile, a hand on his arm, right after pressing a kiss to his cheek. He has to do a quick self check to make sure everything is working because he cannot think. Words fail to form, he is sure all his processors are failing, so he checks again, stable.
Finally, he catches something from all of the clutter. “What was that for?” His face is filled with confusion and it makes a laugh fall from your lips.
Again, Connor feels as if every one of his biocompents are failing.
“To thank you.” You leave the confusion filled android alone.
Day fifty-one. Connor knows knows something has changed in him, but he fails to understand that it is emotions. He’s not going to shut down. He decides to ask Hank out of context for help.
“I’m having these problems with my software…” Hank was going to tell him to check it out with CyberLife before the android continues. “When I’m around a certain person, it feels as if all my processors stop working, I don’t quite understand it. I was hoping you could make some sense of it.”
Hank lets out the loudest laugh, drawing attention from others around him. “Kid, you’re in love.” Hank didn’t need the name of the person or any more details. He’s seen Connor around you, like a lovesick puppy. It makes Hank want to throw up.
Connor ponders the word, love. Is that what it is? Is it really that simple? Love, an intense feeling of deep affection. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Now, he just had to figure out what to do with the information.
Day sixty. He still feels as if everything is shutting down when he’s around you. He’s hoping that it’ll lessen over time. Yet, when you kiss him for the first time, he’s positive it won’t.
When your lips touch his, he fails to respond. His arms hang lamely at his sides, his eyes are wide open. You pull away because he doesn’t respond. He can tell you’re embarrassed. He cups your cheek in his hand without thinking, pressing his lips against yours with more force than you expected. He doesn’t know how to do this, but it turns gentle. His lips move against yours, savoring the new found feeling.
Day one hundred and two. He knew what he felt when he was around you. Love, love, love. He’s yet to say the word to you, yet to announce it out loud to anyone. You haven’t said it either. He was still completely unsure of how human relationships worked, which one of you were supposed to say it first?
He has the urge to say it to you after every good morning, every goodbye, every kiss and touch, but he doesn’t.
You’re kissing him goodbye, he feels the urge again to say the words he thinks about every day. When you pull away, your foreheads are resting against each other.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
The words blend in unison, you’re not sure who said it first.
Connor feels as if everything is failing again, every processor ceases to work properly. He does a check, stable.