Work Text:
Contrary to popular belief, Gavin does regret airing his anti-android sentiments to the whole precinct. For one, it got him put on desk duty for three weeks, and also made him look like a moron for a lot of reasons. Connor’s deviancy was one of them. He’s the only android in the station who made conversation before the revolution, and it made him quite popular with other detectives, especially once he picked up some social cues. History and popularity are on his side.
As Gavin thinks about it, he looks over to see the aforementioned android standing by the coffee machine, demonstrating his newly-found latte art software for a group of policewomen. He wishes he was a little more angry about all the showboating, but it’s sort of endearing. He was surprised when Connor did it for him a couple of days ago when he went to the breakroom, and actually gave him the finished product. It was… impeccable, as to be expected from a goddamn supercomputer. Gavin hid the mug in the corner of his desk and sipped only when he was sure nobody was watching. (That wasn’t good enough. Hank still saw it somehow and nearly keeled over laughing. He’s afraid he’ll never hear the end of it.)
Something that struck Gavin especially was Connor’s obvious sense of pride in his abilities. He’s now started just uploading random talents to pass the time and show his coworkers. It’s cute, in some kind of weird way, how transparent he is about it. The ring on his temple flickering blue helps, but there are other things; he shifts his weight from foot to foot, hands clasped over his lap as he waits for a reaction. If he were human, Gavin is sure Connor would have a nail-biting problem. He just looks antsy all the time, even with that fucking silicone expression.
Gavin knows he’s not the brightest bulb in the janitors closet, but anybody who looked long enough could tell that Connor takes humans’ opinions to heart. The problem is that Gavin has been looking for a little too long.
The other problem is that he didn’t give Connor the reaction he was looking for with the whole latte thing. He was stunned that Connor would even want to share with him after everything that happened, but apparently couldn’t make the connection that, perhaps, just maybe, he should try to get along if the android was willing to forgive and forget (well, he’d probably remember it forever, actually. Gavin’s stupidity is probably being blasted for all eternity on a hologram somewhere in CyberLife headquarters.) So what did he decide to do? Grab the coffee out of his hands with a glare and storm back to his desk, knowing damn well that Connor was making disheartened puppy eyes at his back.
Shit.
In any case, he still has to face Connor every day for the next week. Maybe longer if Connor says something to Fowler about it. Gavin can imagine him mentioning it unthinkingly if the captain asked. He wouldn’t report it out of spite, just obliviousness. God, he’s really a piece of work. A machine that can retain memories forever, but chooses not to hold a grudge. It’s fucking crazy. If he had less pride, he’d ask Connor about it, make peace.
Maybe Gavin could make something out of this boring ass day.
Connor has a new desk with his name on it, something he’s also very proud of. He didn’t say anything about it, but everyone who walked past congratulated him. Latte art is apparently easier for him to brag about than becoming an honorary detective. Intriguing. The desk is parallel to Gavin’s so that both of them can see into the other’s stall. That makes him uncomfortable, thinking Connor could know more about him than he shows. He could know everything.
Not that he has anything to hide.
Gavin rests his chin on his fist and watches for a while. Connor is typing with perfect posture and raised eyebrows. His little light is flashing yellow, and his mouth moves along with whatever he’s searching. It’s getting harder to see how he’s different from anyone else in this godforsaken department, with all these new quirks. Since becoming deviant, he’s gotten quite clumsy. Gavin thinks it may have something to do with the lack of direction he has. He’s been a little soldier boy for his whole existence, and now there’s no one to tell him what to do at all. It’s kind of cute, but also somewhat sad. Maybe he doesn’t have anything to occupy his mind with when he isn’t obsessed with completing his mission.
Connor is (probably) unaware of his snooping. Oblivious to how Gavin is looking at him, suddenly with a level of respect and maybe even-
“Nah, I’m not going there. Not today,” Gavin mutters to himself. His brain isn’t allowed to drive him into that tree.
Connor turns to him suddenly, having heard his voice. Freaky sound quality devices. The LED goes red for just a second and then a solid blue, almost so fast that Gavin wonders if it was just sleep deprivation finally coming to kick his ass. “Do you need something, Detective Reed?”
Gavin rolls across the aisle into Connor’s space and watches his reaction with interest. He doesn’t seem bothered. Good. “I might. What work are you doing today?”
“I’m downloading vehicle and phone book databases in the Detroit area. So I can identify if a car is stolen or not, or if a license plate number is unknown.” He’s sounding less sure of himself these days. “Does that answer your question?”
“Sure. Does that mean you’re free right now?”
Connor frowns and gestures to his hand, now a pearly white metal, resting flat on a touchpad. “I have to stay connected here to transfer the information without a hitch.”
Gavin waves him off, although the whole hand thing is unnerving. “Jesus. You’re fucking freaky. Anyway, yeah, that’s fine, I just wanted to ask you a question. No need to go anywhere.” Connor initially seems enthusiastic to help answer anything, but a look of suspicion crosses his features as he studies Gavin further.
“Go ahead, Detective.”
He takes a pause. “Do you want people to like you?”
Connor blinks, as if he’s being asked a trick question. “Well, yes, of course. If someone trusts me, my work is easier, and I can get more information-”
“No, moron, I mean outside of the job. Just random people.” Gavin can practically feel him calculating an answer, which sort of pisses him off. With his current few thoughts on androids and empathy, the statement Connor gives is surprising.
“Well, I-” he starts timidly, flexing one hand since he can’t twiddle his thumbs with the other one plugged in. “Humans in general?” Gavin nods. Connor averts his eyes. “I don’t know if ‘want’ is the right word. I don’t think about it very often. It’s hard to describe, but there’s a warm feeling that comes with thinking I‘m valued. I guess that I ‘want’ to belong somewhere, since- it is something I’m programmed to do. Just-” He stops himself and doesn’t continue his line of thought. “Please excuse my poor explanation. This isn’t something I’m accustomed to talking about.”
His stilted answer is compelling and yet somehow simultaneously makes Gavin nauseous. “Uh, it’s alright. I get the gist of it.” Connor is truly puzzling. He still radiates pompous asshole energy, but seems more lost and uncertain on a deeper level now that he’s deviated. Gavin wants to hate him just for being here, so he does, but it is getting harder. At the very least, he doesn’t want to admit defeat to an android .
He slides back over to his desk and gets back to work, seeing Connor in the corner of his eye, staring blankly at the screen, obviously very distracted from the task at hand (literally). Maybe now he has something to think about.
-
A few days later, Connor spills coffee on himself (the fucking ditz) and heads into the men’s bathroom to change. He wasn’t built to do housework, after all. Gavin walks out of the stall just as he’s straightening the tie of a different identical suit, his other one bundled up for cleaning. They both stand in front of the mirrors.
For a moment, neither of them say anything, but of course Gavin has to open his stupid fucking mouth before he leaves. “Man, I can’t believe you kept that little light thing in. You know it makes it harder to like you, right?” He looks over when Connor says nothing and discovers his hand hiding the LED, his cheeks going blue with thirium. What a stupid thing to be insecure about, he could just remove it if he wanted to. His lips are pursed. “You could just take it out, and look a lot less like a piece of plastic. Here-”
He walks toward Connor with his hand situated to touch the ring of light, which is the wrong thing to do, as he realizes a little later. Connor backs up silently as he advances, so his shoulders are against the wall. Gavin freezes mid-step when he sees the android’s face. He looks like he’s about to cry, fingers pressed again his LED, red light peeking through the cracks. He still doesn’t say anything.
It’s apparently time for Gavin to step the fuck back. Suddenly he’s a lot less funny than he thinks he is. “Uh, I wasn’t going to…” He isn’t sure what Connor thought he was going to do, if anything. He’s still unresponsive against the wall, and Gavin isn’t sure if he’s going to self-destruct over an edgy comment or if there’s something else. “I mean, hey, don’t- what are you doing?”
Connor hugs himself with his free arm. Can androids even cry? “I don’t want to take it out,” he says, voice cracking. It’s obvious Gavin will find the answer if he doesn’t do something quick.
“You don’t have to, you don’t need to do that.” Gavin keeps an awkward distance with his hands up in front of him like he’s dealing with a hostage situation. He can’t believe this is what finally upset Connor, and even further, can’t begin to believe how little he’s enjoying this. He’s a master at drawing reactions, part of why Connor made him so mad with his indifference. This isn’t the reaction he wanted, obviously. “It’s, uh, cool anyway. It isn’t bad or anything. You look- you blend in just fine, it’s not really…”
“I thought-” Connor makes several weird noises and blinks, shoulders raised. It takes Gavin a moment to realize he’s trying to cry, which has to be the saddest thing he’s seen in years. This might be the first time Connor’s felt ashamed, and he’s unbelievably guilty to be a part of it.
Also he’s officially such a huge asshole that he made an actual robot cry. He’s not even sure who’s the most embarrassed about this. “Uh, shit,” he mutters ineloquently. What else is there to say? Gavin is careful in tiptoeing past Connor to the door and getting the fuck out. “Oh my god.” He’s pretty sure he’s lost his dignity, about to lose his job, and also going to be banned from every android-owned establishment in the tri-state area. He gets back to work at his desk, not meeting eyes with anyone on the way there, and it seems like only a few seconds pass before Connor is back at his own desk like nothing ever happened.
Embarrassment doesn’t even really cover it for Gavin. It’s really secondhand embarrassment, like his brain is watching his body make bad decisions and wincing at it. Why does he even care so much? A week ago he probably would have been laughing about this to another officer, but now he’s just- he doesn’t know how to feel.
Connor leaves with Hank early as usual while Gavin is in the bathroom, and when he comes back to his stall, there’s a sticky note attached to his computer. It’s a long-winded apology from Connor, obvious from his perfect handwriting. He crumples it up and throws it in the trash, blowing a hard breath out through his mouth. What the fuck. Shouldn’t he be the one writing a letter of apology? Connor is probably just trying to keep the work environment pleasant, but he really shouldn’t be sorry for it, and knowing him, the feelings expressed in the note are probably genuine.
Goddamnit.
-
The next day, Gavin walks in after getting lunch and greets a forensic specialist android who joined the force a month or so back. Of course, Connor couldn’t alone be onsite for every investigation, and while being a prototype made him quite an asset, other androids saw his success and wanted to work in the CSI department too.
He knows this one to be a model meant for childcare named Hannah. He’s never talked to her before, but there’s no better time to start than now.
“Hey, Hannah,” he says as he comes across her reading a magazine on his way to the back of the station.
She’s startled by the acknowledgment, LED flashing red, then yellow. Jesus, is he really that bad? “Hello, Detective Reed.”
Gavin stops a few feet in front of her and leans against the wall, unsure of how to proceed. “Do you… ever talk with Connor?”
Hannah looks him over suspiciously, the same way Connor did. Gavin is truly a tool. “Yes, we’re actually good friends.” Connor? RK800? With friends? It really is a wonder. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you understand deviants’ feelings and stuff, right? I think I messed up with him, and I don’t want to, you know- make him upset. Again. Listen, I don’t ask for help very often, okay?” Gavin looks around to make sure nobody’s listening.
She smiles kindly, and he’s somewhat soothed, at least until she actually speaks. “First of all, deviants are all different, and I wouldn’t know any more about an unfamiliar deviant android than you would. So you’re wrong there.” Shit. “However, it’s admirable that you would try to reconcile with him. I suggest you stop skipping your sensitivity trainings, both for the purpose of having a better relationship with Connor, and so that Captain Fowler stops adding days to your banishment from investigations.”
Gavin pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Very serious, in fact,” Hannah says, terribly smug. Fucking know-it-alls. “But I’ll tell you one other thing. Hostility won’t help you with Connor.”
He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from telling her to shove it. He was the one to approach her for help in the first place, after all. “Right, right. Okay, thanks.”
“You’re always welcome, Detective Reed,” she calls after him as he walks away, takeout box under his arm and tail between his legs.
Connor is already deep into his work when he arrives, flopping into his swivel chair and spinning in it for a moment. He spins more dramatically when Connor doesn’t acknowledge him. Gavin huffs. That’s when the android finally turns to look at him, expression momentarily anxious. “Detective Reed,” Connor starts, almost looking down on Gavin, though it’s probably since he’s slumped far down in his chair like a five year old. “I have to apologize again for my behavior yesterday evening. I let my- my emotions get the best of me. It won’t happen again.”
Gavin sits up and tries not to be hostile. “Don’t say that. I fucked up, you know, and that’s not your fault.” He pauses, picking up a stress ball to cope with the pain of admitting he was wrong. “So sorry about that, I guess. Your light is actually kind of badass. I’m just mad that you’re taller than me and trying to compensate for it.”
He looks at Connor carefully and is surprised to find that he’s laughing at Gavin’s stupid joke. He has a cute laugh. Ew. “You’re forgiven,” he says, which to Gavin’s horror, immediately lifts a weight from his chest. Hopefully it’s just relief from the knowledge that Hank won’t come kicking down his door any time soon and not something stupid.
-
Connor has started trying to please him again, and although it sort of freaks him out, he feels the need to respond positively. He knows Fowler is watching, and he doesn’t want to hurt Connor’s feelings. The least he can do is try and keep tensions low while he’s serving out his paper work jail sentence.
He’s being nice. That’s all it is.
Gavin probably spends more time watching him than not, since there honestly isn’t a whole lot else to do with the android investigation closed. Waiting for people to kill each other isn’t very reliable. Instead, he sits and stares at Connor making an origami box for his paper clips, or talking to Hannah, or stapling things. Gavin really has too much time on his hands.
He does eventually get back into investigations, but it isn’t the same. The most boring weeks of his life are over, and all he wants to do is look at a fucking robot who he was ready to shoot about a month ago. Connor doesn’t seem to notice him staring, but a few others do. Hank glares at him from the other side of a dead woman’s living room.
He steps over to Gavin while all the photographers do their thing first. “One question, what the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.
“What? I’m not doing shit. I’m just standing here.” Gavin shrugs, trying not be overly defensive. That’s always suspicious.
“Bullshit. Don’t play dumb, Reed. You keep looking at Connor like you’ve got a plan. What is the fucking plan?” He knows Hank doesn’t play games with his partner, but he can’t help him.
Gavin sighs and puts his hands up. “There is no plan. We’re buddies now, just ask him!”
Hank narrows his eyes for a moment and turns away. “You better not be fucking lying to me.” He walks away, toward the body, sneering. “Asshole. Over there smiling to yourself.” Gavin can barely hear his muttering, but he makes that one out. Is he really smiling? Now he sort of understands Hank’s concern. Holy shit, he must look like a creep. Maybe he was just amused by Connor rubbing his hands together for the fiftieth time tonight. He’s so impatient, it’s cute.
Still isn’t any reason to be smirking at a crime scene. Christ.
When everyone’s finished with documenting the scene, Connor sweeps in to test a blood sample and give his theory of what happened. Gavin hasn’t heard any of his deductions, usually leaving before he had the chance, so he’s curious to see what revolutionary report Connor will give.
He stands after identifying the victim and straightens his coat. “She was killed by someone she knew. Since there are no signs of forced entry, it’s most likely that she allowed her murderer inside the home. Cause of death is blunt force trauma. We should-”
One of the photographers, still gathering his equipment, interrupts. “You’re listening to its explanation?” He’s looking at both Hank and Gavin, and they look at each other for an answer, then at Connor. He has his head down a little, brows furrowed in- confusion? Hurt? Determination?
“You’re telling me how to do my job?” Gavin is obviously the loose cannon of the pair, so he lashes out first. “And yeah, he’s usually right. Can you tell us what happened? Hm?” The stupid bastard shakes his head. “Then stay in your fucking lane.”
Hank nods, which is something. “Connor, what were you saying?” Connor’s eyes follow the photographer as he mumbles something under his breath and leaves the house.
“Um, that we should get the body to forensics. There’s DNA under her nails that I can’t get to,” he says, a little less sure of himself. Gavin purses his lips and looks away, hoping a tiny part of his brain will convince him not to comfort Connor. Androids probably don’t value touch the way humans do anyway. “I’ll go ahead and call them.”
After the call is over, they leave as well, having nothing else to do for the time being. Some helpful evidence had been collected from the house, and the neighbors were notified, even got a suspect from some of the neighborhood gossip. Pretty productive for one night. Gavin, before he leaves, stops Connor in the front yard with a hand on his neck. “Hey,” he says, knowing Hank is giving him the stink eye since he’s waiting for Connor to get in the car. “Don’t sweat- I mean, don’t worry about that guy. He’s just a pissant. You… you belong here. You’re doing what you’re meant to do. So fuck him.”
Connor turns around, and why in the hell did CyberLife make his eyes so pretty? He’s smiling. “Thank you, Detective. It means a lot to me.” Gavin still has his hand on Connor’s neck, but now it’s on the side of his throat, which is awkward. He pulls away. “I don’t think I’ve heard ‘pissant’ before. I like that.”
Gavin feels rooted to the spot as Connor gives him a coy look. Why is he sweating? “Ha, yeah. Well, uh, see you back at the station.”
-
They work with the evidence all night, having to wait a while for the DNA tests to come back. Connor keeps him stocked on coffee, for which he is endlessly grateful, as Hank and Fowler occasionally stop to look on in confusion. It’s weird how well they work together, and it makes Gavin wish he’d have made better decisions sooner. He can be a fucking idiot sometimes. Well, most times.
At some point, an officer comes through with a guy who’s spending the night in jail, obviously drunk and ranting about androids. Gavin rolls his eyes. He probably damaged one and refused to pay the fine, from the looks of it. His eyes eventually catch Connor’s LED, which sends him into another round of babbling. Connor scoots his chair back, closer to Gavin, who takes the opportunity to hold his waist. It’s just a light touch, but very purposeful. Yes, his main purpose is to make Connor feel safe, but he’s better off not trying to deny that he has ulterior motives. Fuck. With no clue how his life came to this point, he accepts that he has the hots for an android.
He doesn’t get the chance to do anything with that information as Connor leans into him, looking perturbed. “You know, why don’t we take our stuff to the archive room? The samples should be getting back soon anyway, so we should put the evidence back.” Connor nods fervently.
“Of course, good idea.” He easily follows after Gavin to the little alcove where the evidence room is hidden, and they go down the stairs in silence to replace the bags of bloody clothing and a tablet of the victim’s voice mail recordings. Connor turns to him then, hands clasped in front of him, and Gavin wonders where he learned how to look so earnest and so high-strung at the same time. “Gavin, I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the companionship you’ve shown me these past few weeks. I know this is seemingly sentimental, but I feel like I needed to say it. I hope that’s not… weird.”
Gavin closes the chamber where the evidence is kept and shakes his head, stepping toward him. He puts a hand on Connor’s arm, swallowing heavily. “Nah, not at all,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering, but it feels right as he holds Connor’s chin with his other hand. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Connor reacts minimally to the touch, but he looks more than happy to have his (friendly) feelings reciprocated. “Really?” Gavin’s face is suddenly inches from his, and Connor finally starts to notice, his eyes darkening. Fuck. Fuck. Oh, he’s so fucking boned.
“Mhm.” He isn’t certain on where to begin with kissing an android, but he figures he can’t mess up that bad. Well, he’s usually wrong about that assumption. Still. Gavin’s a little shorter than Connor, but he can reach without tiptoeing, so he does, pressing his lips squarely against the android’s and waiting for something to happen. Connor stands there for a moment in which he’s sure he’s made a terrible mistake, but then Connor copies what he’s doing and puts his hands on Gavin’s shoulder blades. While it’s a huge fucking relief, it’s also painfully awkward. “Uh, Connor,” he says, pulling back just a bit. Connor’s cheeks are tinted blue, and his eyes are wide. “Open up a little, and I’ll, fuck, I’ll show you what to do.” He nods, always obedient, even now.
Gavin wonders briefly if androids even enjoy kissing, or if Connor could somehow interpret this as friendly. He doesn’t care too much. He just wants to get this out of his system. Connor makes a little noise of surprise when Gavin licks into his mouth, but doesn’t seem to mind, responding in turn as best as he can. He lets Gavin walk him back until they’re against the wall and even grabbing the fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Connor, despite being oblivious to the touches before, is very responsive, and unsurprisingly a quick learner.
He starts to mumble against Connor’s mouth, bumping their noses before he moves down to kiss his jaw. “God, you’re fucking-”
“Connor?”
Gavin jumps back without even registering who the new voice belongs to. It takes him a moment to snap out of it and see that Hannah is now standing with them in the archive room. Connor looks less concerned and more surprised. Obviously, neither of them had heard her coming down the stairs. In heels. She doesn’t seem amused, glaring actual daggers at Gavin before looking back to Connor. Yikes.
Both of their LEDs go yellow, while he looks on, confused. Gavin soon realizes they’re talking, and it definitely isn’t for him to hear. He’s just the tiniest bit outraged as well. He should have known the test results would be coming back soon, and that everyone had seen them coming down here. He just wasn’t as aware of his surroundings as he thought he was. Gavin probably deserves this for lusting after an android anyway.
Hannah turns to him with a less bitter expression and walks over to essentially size him up. “You two should come up soon, the captain wants to apprehend the suspect before they get too far. You have 5 minutes.”
Gavin almost sighs in relief. Yes, kissing Connor is certainly worth another month of desk duty, but that doesn’t mean he wants to get that. “Alright, Hannah,” he says carefully. She makes her way back up the stairs with one more glance in Connor’s direction, clicking with every step. “Uh, just out of curiosity, what did you say to her?” He tries not to sound too accusatory.
Connor is still looking at the staircase. “She just wanted to know if I was okay. So I told her everything was fine, that I enjoyed it. She was a little suspicious, but she just wants to protect me, I suppose.” Gavin nods. “Not to alarm you, but I am starting to have doubts,” Connor continues after a pause, wrapping one arm around himself and bringing the other up to clench his fist nervously.
“Yeah?” Gavin rubs the back of his own neck. Maybe he should have made his intentions more clear, or not done anything at all. He wants to reach out, but Connor is curled in on himself, so he wouldn’t want to intrude or something.
“I just don’t think I’m suitable for what you want.” Gavin’s head jerks to stare at him directly.
“What?”
Connor shakes his head, just a little. “I’m physically equipped, but I can’t imagine that I would bring you the same enjoyment that- that another human could. I don’t know anything about sex or romance. I’m not- I couldn’t give you what you want. Because I’m not-”
“Stop that. I don’t even know what half of that shit means. I haven’t spent weeks listening to you talk about Hank’s dog for you to fucking think you’re not ‘what I want’. Don’t overthink it, alright?” Connor stands there for a moment with his lips parted and brows up, unconvinced, like he wants to argue. Then the words seem to register, and he smiles a little. Gavin knows it’s his own hesitance to respect androids that probably gave Connor doubt, but he doesn’t want to be that anymore.
He smirks back, just a little, since he refuses to be more sappy than he has to be. “And anyway, I’m sure you’re a quick learner.” Nice. Diffuse emotions with an innuendo.
Connor laughs softly. “Well, I’m glad one of us has faith in me. But we should get upstairs now. I really want to make an arrest in the next 24 hours.” Gavin rolls his eyes, wondering why he’s even surprised at this point.
“Yeah, yeah. You go first.” He really doesn’t want to face Hannah without Connor in front of him, and can simultaneously get a good view of his ass. A perfect plan, really.
“What a gentleman,” Connor murmurs, letting his fingers graze Gavin’s wrist before he makes his way up the flight of stairs. “Are you coming, or are you trying to get locked down here?” Gavin swallows, in a bit of a daze.
He’s actually triple boned.
“Shut it, Connor.”