Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Since 13 years of age, Gavin had accepted that he didn’t have a soulmate and never would. Despite the vastness of the world and the unfathomably large population of humans, there was no one to whom he belonged and who belonged to him. Yeah, he was a romantic, but what was the point when nobody would ever want to be with him?

The result of his philosophy was a history of flings and the total sum of his serious, committed relationships amounting to zero. Most were prejudiced against unmarked people either way, and if his partner ended up having a soulmark and still wanted to go for a relationship, it was inevitable for them to leave him once their soulmate was found. Gavin didn’t see the point in trying, and merely resigned himself to the occasional one night stand to resolve sexual tension and a life lived alone.

Which was why he was so shocked when he woke up one morning in August and looked into the mirror only to see --

“What the fuck?!”

The usually empty spot on the left side of his chest, just above his heart, was inked with neat black lettering. He blinked at it, too dumbfounded to even read it. His first thought?

Oh fuck, I’m a pedophile.

The thing with soulmarks was that they only appeared upon the birth of your soulmate. Usually, they started out as indecipherable squiggles several months into your soulmate's development and morphed as their handwriting improved over the years. Gavin, being almost 36 years old, was utterly horrified at the thought of his soulmate having just been born.

Then he took a closer look.

First of all, it was written in an unnervingly even font. Too regular to be handwriting, especially the handwriting of a child. It looked like something generated by a computer. Second of all, it wasn’t a name, per say. It read:

Connor RK800 #313 248 317-51

It took him several moments to decipher that it was a model and serial number for a fucking android. He racked his brains for any information he had on an android called RK800 and concluded that either he lived under a rock or no such android existed on the market. The former wasn’t too unlikely, considering he generally tried to ignore the existence of androids and ignored any and all news of them.

After puzzling out his soulmark, Gavin got pissed, both literally and figuratively.

He called in sick for work and dug into his stash of alcohol. Despite his contempt toward Anderson’s blatant alcoholism, he himself was no stranger to using booze to drown out the world when he was in a shitty situation. This was no exception.

Gavin woke up the next morning without any memory of the previous day and with the worst hangover he’d had in a while. He groaned and dragged his hand over his eyes. The fact that he was sitting there hungover was proof enough that his soulmark hadn't just been a figment of his imagination, but he still felt the urge to check. He yanked down the collar of his shirt and glared at the offending mark, still as bold and black as it was yesterday. Gavin wondered what he'd done in a previous life to warrant a shitty-ass romantic life. He'd probably murdered someone. Maybe he had been a serial killer. In that case, it was sort of ironic that he was now a detective, working for the law and throwing people's asses in jail.

He was getting distracted. The entire point of getting drunk was to avoid doing anything about his soulmate situation. Now that he unfortunately wasn't drunk anymore, he would have to do something. By which he meant, of course, ignoring it and doing nothing.

After all, it didn't mean anything, he reasoned. It was probably just the universe fucking up. Androids were pieces of plastic, metal, and blue blood. They weren't things that could feel emotions (hell, they didn’t even have souls), so they'd never form an attachment like a soul bond. Maybe it just meant he was going to buy one and have sex with it a lot and pretend it was a real human? Gavin felt disgusted by the thought, but it seemed more likely than the soulmark being legitimate. It was clear to him that the android soulmark was just another scheme of the universe to prove to Gavin that nobody except something programmed to do it would ever stay with him. The fact that he now had something written where most other people's soulmarks went didn't change anything. He was still fundamentally flawed and was destined to be alone for his entire life. That was all. The small part of him that rebelled at the thought and tried to spark the long-dead hope buried somewhere deep inside him could just fuck off.

Having decided on a course of action, Gavin decided to go to work, despite his throbbing headache and general shitty and hungover state of being. With how gruff he'd been when calling in sick yesterday, Fowler was probably annoyed to hell and back and ready to tear him a new one. Might as well face the music sooner rather than later.

Seeing as he had gotten drunk extremely early in the morning yesterday, it was currently 7 a.m. A bit later than he would have gotten up, but technically he wasn't expected at the precinct until 10. It was just habit for him to get up early and get there before everyone else did. He found he liked the peace of the empty halls and was most productive without dumbasses constantly distracting him.

After downing two mugs of coffee and trying (and failing) to make himself look presentable and less like he'd gotten drunk at 6 in the morning (which he had), Gavin checked his phone for anything he might have missed while drunk off his ass. He froze as his phone opened to his contacts list, hovering suspiciously over a number he'd tried to forget he had. A mild panic gripping him, he quickly swiped into his call history and screamed at the sight that greeted him.

His neighbour pounded on the wall irritably, but Gavin paid the noise no mind, too focused on the letters and numbers that spelled out his doom.

Eli                  3:58 p.m. 08/15/2038               1:26:49

Oh, fuck.

Gavin's first response was to call back and demand to know what the fuck they had talked about at 4 in the afternoon for one and a half freaking hours. His second response was to burn his phone and delete the number immediately. Then again, he hadn't been able to get rid of his brother's number for almost two decades, despite having gone through more than five phones. It was safe to assume that not only did Elijah now know Gavin's current number, but he was also aware of the fact that Gavin hadn't been able to cut emotional ties as effectively as his smartass brother and still had his number practically fucking memorized and entered into his phone.

He thumped his head onto his kitchen counter. Fucking hell. Maybe if he was lucky, Elijah had been busy and neglected to pick up, and drunk Gavin had elected to shout obscenities into his answering machine for an hour and a half? But in that case, the entire thing would still have been recorded for Elijah's pleasure. Fuck. Gavin wanted to dig a hole in the ground and hide inside it for the rest of eternity.

Well, when life gives you your drunk self's terrible judgement and irrational decision-making skills, you ignore all problems and proceed as normal. Or something like that. Dammit. He should have known better than to drink. He'd been told on many occasions that his self control went out the fucking window and into space when he was drunk. Gavin decided to deal with it if and when Elijah called and resolutely ignored the part of him that kind of wanted the bastard to call.

"Fuck me," he sighed as he got into his car and slammed the door shut.

Elijah never did call back.

Gavin’s solution of ignoring his soulmark and avoiding android news like the plague held out for three months before--

“Hello, Detective Reed. My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

At first, the words hadn’t even registered. Gavin had stared in complete, blatant awe at the utter beauty before him. The man seemed like he’d jumped straight out of Gavin's fantasies just to torture him with the fact that he was unbelievably out of Gavin's league. He didn’t even realize it was an android (how had he missed the LED?!) until his gaze trailed down that tantalizing neck to the blue triangle glowing serenely on its uniform. Then his eyes shifted to its right side, and he stopped breathing.

RK800. It had said its name was Connor. And, taking a closer look, it had a serial number that matched the one etched on Gavin’s chest, right down to the -51 at the end.

Gavin wanted to scream. Or cry. Or call up Elijah and curse him out for making an android so damn attractive that he undoubtedly had decided to ruin Gavin's life with sacred information that he had been entrusted with as a teenager regarding Gavin’s exact type. Fucking Eli. Fucking soulmate bullshit. Fucking androids.

“-- Reed? Detective Reed? Are you alright? I detect an elevated heart rate and irregular breathing.” Gavin sucked in a huge gulp of air and his eyes snapped back up to look at the android’s fucking melty-chocolate brown eyes. Why did it have to be so fucking perfect?!

He should scoff at it and be an asshole, like he usually was toward androids. Except worse, because he was fucking pissed and he needed to take his anger out on the object of his anger. It wouldn’t feel anything anyway -- it was just a machine.

(But it looked so human. It even looked kind of worried for his well-being. And it was so fucking pretty)

Fake. Fake feelings. Fake worry on its face. Dammit Gavin, pull yourself together, you dysfunctional bastard.

“Hi,” Gavin said.

Holy fuck, control fucking z please. He needed to up his fucking game, that was definitely not asshole-ish behaviour.

He coughed and tried to tell himself that his face wasn't burning with what was sure to be an uncontrollable blush. Distantly, he could make out the sound of Tina and Chris laughing at his struggles.

“I mean. Fuck. What the fuck is a plastic toy like you doing here?”

Okay, that was better. Much better. Gavin could feel himself slipping back into his usual hostile persona, which obviously wasn’t a persona. It was just his personality. Clearly.

The android’s brow furrowed and for a second Gavin could swear it looked confused. Its eyes darted from Gavin’s eyes to his chest, and he wondered if it was analyzing him. Suddenly, he felt paranoid that it somehow knew about the soulmark hidden underneath his clothes, even though there was no way. Androids didn't have x-ray vision, right? Not that Gavin would know. It was entirely possible though, given that they'd been designed by Eli, of all people. Ah, there was the familiar indignation at the existence of androids. Bit late to the party, but Gavin would take what he could get.

“Like I said, Detective, I am the android sent by CyberLife. I am here to assist with the deviant case.”

Gavin scoffed (he thanked the high heavens that he could still manage to make the noise). “An android detective, huh. So, that’s it. Androids are gonna what, replace us all?”

Its head tilted to the side like a curious puppy’s would. That was it, Gavin was positively going to die before the end of this conversation. “Far from the case,” it said smoothly. “I believe we will only replace those who are incompetent at their jobs.” It raised an eyebrow at him and enunciated the last words carefully to ensure that the silent implication was received. Did Eli enjoy programming sass into androids nowadays, or was that just another development that Gavin missed?

“What the hell are you implying, tin can?”

The android’s face assumed an expression of angelic innocence. “Whatever do you mean, Detective? I merely stated that most in this precinct won’t have to worry about getting replaced by androids. On the other hand, those who are, as my database says, unlikable and antagonistic, are much more at risk, wouldn’t you say?”

In response, Gavin twisted his face into an angry scowl. He cursed the prick out and shoved it around and complained to Fowler before leaving for the end of his shift and never thinking about the android ever again. Gavin lived the rest of his life being a surly asshole and he was completely fine with it.

... Or at least that was what he wanted to have happened.

Instead, he laughed. Out loud. A full-on, unrestrained laugh of actual amusement and humour.

Well then.

He was going to die. Tina and Chris would know and then the entire station would know and he would be forever labeled as the pathetic sack of shit destined to use an android to satisfy his lack of romantic life.

He managed to stop laughing by making a choking noise resembling a dying cat and decided to get the fuck out before he could act even more like a lovesick fool. He could pass it off as an… angry, derisive laugh, okay, definitely not one of amusement at the android’s attempt (more like success, it had been pretty damn good for a piece of programming and AI) at making a sassy comeback. Gavin shoulder checked the android as he speed-walked to his desk and flipped Chris and Tina off on the way. The two of them could just fuck off.

Sinking into his chair, Gavin resisted the urge to bury his face in his arms and groaning, simply because he could still feel the all-too-human eyes of (his soulmate) the android burning into his back.

“Fucking androids,” he muttered to himself instead, cracking his knuckles to try and release some of the stress that had built up during the previous interaction through a nervous habit that lasted from childhood. “I’m so fucking screwed.”

By the time Gavin got called in for the interrogation, he had resolved himself to treating Connor like any other android in his life. Not as a coworker, and definitely not as a soulmate. It didn’t matter that he had dreamed of going on cute dates and holding hands with his (then thought of as nonexistent and imaginary) soulmate for as long as he could remember. The android was not his soulmate and would never be.

It was a machine.

Gavin sneered at it as it entered the interrogation room, following closely after Anderson. They had gone out to investigate a homicide together and had managed to find and apprehend the deviant responsible for it. He listened to the briefing, nodding along when appropriate but mostly focused on Connor out of the corner of his eye. The deviant in the other room belonged to the vic and was suspected of stabbing him 28 times. It was a HK400 model or something, designed as a household assistant. Seemed like a pretty standard deviant case; all they had to do was get a confession.

Anderson went in first and it became evident that the android would be a tough nut to crack. The android only sat there, unresponsive and shaking slightly, as Anderson tried and failed to get a confession. Gavin was rather impressed at the android -- despite his recent habits, Anderson was a good cop, and he knew how to intimidate and appease suspects better than anyone Gavin had ever seen. Eventually, Anderson gave up and left the interrogation room, taking a seat in the observation room and frowning at the deviant from behind the one-way glass.

“Well great,” Anderson announced into the awkward silence a few moments later. “Now what?”

“Could always try roughing it up a little,” Gavin suggested when there was no other response to Anderson’s question. In fact, Chris seemed to be half-asleep (not that Gavin blamed him -- having to deal with a three month old baby and sporadic but frequent night shifts at the precinct couldn’t be easy) and Connor was staring fixedly at the deviant, its LED a serene blue. However, at Gavin’s words, the latter of the two turned around, mouth opening as if to contradict. The expression on its face caused Gavin to add, almost defensively, “After all, it’s not human.”

Chris gave him a strange look.

Connor did not seem to agree with his suggestion. “Androids don’t feel pain,” it pointed out, and Gavin wanted to smack either himself or the fucking thing standing across the room from him. “You would only damage it, and that wouldn’t make it talk. Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they feel threatened.”

The age old anger at Eli and androids began to bubble up again (of course he was wrong, he was always wrong, he wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t good enough, would be replaced by a fucking hunk of metal even though he had put his everything into this--) and Gavin snapped back, “Okay, smartass. What should we do then?”

It blinked, blue LED circling. “... I could try questioning it.”

Gavin was so surprised at the suggestion that he laughed for the second time in Connor’s presence, again completely accidentally. He cut himself off as quickly as he could and started choking on his own spit as a result. What the fuck was wrong with the universe today?! Chris was stifling laughter in the background, the asshole. Gavin flipped him off.

“Why the hell not?” Anderson said, his voice breaking through the eternal loop of ‘Dammit motherfucking shit fuck I am a walking talking gay disaster’ currently going through Gavin’s brain. Gavin schooled his face back into something more serious and definitely did not stare at Connor’s ass as the android left the observation room.

The moment the door closed, Chris said, “Dude. You are so whipped.”

“Shut the fuck up, Miller.”

Anderson snorted and had the gall to look amused. “I’ll be damned. Never thought I’d see the day you of all people got a hard on over an android,” he drawled.

“I’m not getting a fucking hard on over it. Fuck you all.”

“Now now Gavin, we all know there’s only one person here you want to fuck,” Chris said, waggling his eyebrows.

Gavin glared at him and picked up a cup full of water threateningly. “I will dump this shit over your head, Miller.” He turned to fix the same expression at Anderson. “You too. Your title don’t mean shit to me.”

Anderson raised his hands into the air in mocking surrender. “I'm shaking in my boots,” he said sarcastically, with his signature shit-eating grin.

To Gavin’s relief, Chris and Anderson were distracted from inflicting further harassment upon Gavin by Connor itself. The android had finally begun interrogating the deviant (what the fuck had it been doing before, admiring itself in the one-way glass? Not that Gavin would blame it. If he had a pretty face like that, he’d never stop looking at it… and he was just going to hop off that train of thought for now) and the three of them sat back to watch a piece of art at work.

Despite Gavin’s misgivings, Connor maneuvered the interrogation masterfully, putting just enough pressure to get a confession without causing he deviant to self-destruct. Gavin was reluctant to admit it, but… Connor was damn good at its job.

He wasn’t sure whether the fact added to the almost magnetic attraction he had for the android or to his fear and contempt at the pieces of plastic produced by Eli’s attempt to play God. If he was being honest, probably to both.

On the one hand, Connor was hot when it was scary. On the other hand, he hated every fibre of himself for even thinking it.

Gavin wanted to scowl at the android as he followed Chris into the interrogation room to escort the deviant to a holding cell, but he couldn’t make himself. Instead, he leveled Connor with what he hoped was an unreadable expression but was probably more like a desperately adoring stare as he brushed past it.

“Leave me alone!” said the deviant, and Gavin tore his gaze away from the beauty mark on Connor’s cheek. His brow furrowed as he eyed Chris, who was attempting to urge the deviant to stand.

“Chris, you gonna move this asshole or what?” he snapped, trying to gain back some of his self-assured smugness and assholery.

Chris sent him a profoundly irritated look over his shoulder, which translated to ‘I know that you’re trying to protect your macho reputation by being an ass, and I do not appreciate being the one your dickish attitude is aimed toward, bitch.’ Gavin sneered back, honestly too tired and emotionally exhausted to give a fuck (he’d apologize tomorrow).

“I’m trying,” Chris gritted through his teeth, scowling at Gavin, “but it. Won’t. Move.” He averted his attention from Gavin back to the deviant,  grabbing its shoulders to try and heave it up to its feet by force.

“Don’t -- stop it, please --” the deviant forced out, LED blinking red.

Gavin remembered Connor’s earlier words, something about the deviant self-destructing, but he was fucking done with watching androids ruin his life for today. He’d deal with this deviant bastard and go home and collapse into his bed unconscious and hopefully his android tolerance meter would have emptied out by the next day. So he snarled at the deviant with no small amount of agression, “Get a fuckin’ move on!”

He was interrupted by Connor’s voice (he had such a strange voice. Slightly husky, but higher pitched. What the fuck, CyberLife). “You shouldn’t touch it. It will self-destruct if it feels threatened.”

The detective whirled around and jabbed his finger into the android’s chest. The emotional roller coaster he’d gone through in the past several hours had finally dumped him into his default state of anger and frustration. “You shut the fuck up and mind your own damn business,” he practically shouted into Connor’s face (he had to look up to make threatening eye contact with the prick. Why did CyberLife make the bastard so fucking tall?). “No fuckin’ android’s gonna tell me what to do.” He turned back to Chris, who was still struggling with the deviant and began to advance, determined to make the deviant move even if he had to do it himself.

Connor moved inhumanly fast before Gavin could reach Chris. It pushed between Chris and the deviant and shoved him backward with a hand to the chest. “I must reiterate my request for you to stop. The deviant must be detained alive, and it self-destructing would be detrimental to our investigation.”

For a moment, Gavin could swear up and down he saw something more than just cold programming in Connor’s eyes. Protectiveness, indignance, empathy, fuck if he knew. Connor had just seemed so human . So alive.

(But it’s not alive. It’s just a fucking machine)

So Gavin squashed down the urge to comply, the urge to apologize for being a tired, grumpy asshole, the urge to pull Connor in by the lapels of his ridiculous CyberLife jacket and kiss the living shit out of him. He shoved it all down and closed himself off and resorted to his default defense mechanism when he felt shaken down to his roots and he pushed everyone away, especially the one who was causing his internal conflict.

“I told you to shut the fuck up!”

He pulled out his gun and cocked it.

Time seemed to slow down as he leveled the barrel between Connor’s soulful eyes. The android’s pupils dilated and said eyes widened before flickering left, then right, then directly into Gavin’s own eyes. Gavin watched with an almost detached amazement as Connor’s entire body tensed and his breathing (or the automatic movements that simulated breathing?) stopped before returning, the regular motions slightly more frequent than before.

Gavin was familiar with the minute details from countless cases in the past, where he’d had to hold a gun to a suspect’s head and order them around. He recognized the expression on Connor’s face from those of people whom he’d had to shoot to defend himself or someone else. Over his years working with the DPD, he’d begun to coin it as ‘the face of a dead man’. That last, deer-in-the-headlights reaction before they met their end at the end of a bullet from his gun. Complete, instinctive, all-encompassing fear.

Connor was scared of dying.

It was that realization, not the fact that Anderson had pulled out his own gun in response and had it pointed at Gavin (when had that happened?!), that caused Gavin to lower his gun. He watched as Connor relaxed and his face slackened back into the emotionless mask Gavin associated with androids.

Gavin always complained about how everything androids did were fake. They faked an emotional attachment to make a human more comfortable around them. They faked human reactions to help them integrate more. They faked human functions like breathing and blinking to seem more alive.

What Gavin saw in Connor’s eyes? Despite his history with androids (more specifically Eli, but close enough), despite everything he’d ever believed about them, despite his hatred for them… something in him couldn’t write it off as fake.

(They’re not alive)

(But what if they are?)

Chapter Text

Connor returned in the morning.

Gavin had been hoping against all hope that the night before had simply been a hallucination or some sort of fever dream. However, the moment Connor stepped into the break room, his irrational hopes were dashed.

Of course, he covered it up with his usual sneering facade.

“Fuck, look who's back,” he scoffed, ignoring the way his heart seemed to skip a beat when Connor’s chocolate brown eyes turned to look at him. Were those butterflies in his stomach? When the fuck had his life turned into a romcom?

Gavin stood straight and clapped his hands mockingly. “Congratulations on the interrogation last night. We might have gotten something out of it if you hadn’t fucked it up.”

Connor raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, his face betraying barely-there skepticism. “With all due respect, Detective, without my presence I do not believe we would have gotten a confession at all, and the deviant would likely have self-destructed due to your actions in the interrogation room. I did not, as you so eloquently put it, ‘fuck it up’.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Behind him, Tina could be heard bursting into a coughing fit as she choked on her coffee.

Gavin couldn’t stop the unrestrained laughter from escaping even if he’d wanted to. “Well damn, CyberLife thought of everything when they built you, didn’t they? You even have a program for being a sassy little shit.”

Connor looked at him seriously, although the humour was still evident in his eyes. “If you are referring to my ability to deal with what the general public refers to as ‘assholes’, then yes, I do believe I possess that function.”

Gavin was suddenly filled with a warm bubbling affection. ‘This fucking android,’ he thought fondly, and then it all came crashing back to him.

He’d just participated in friendly banter with an android (with his soulmate).

The smile that had somehow found its sneaky way onto his face dropped and Gavin’s walls slammed back up. He couldn’t believe that just for a couple of moments, he’d forgotten that the human-shaped being in front of him wasn’t a human at all. Was faking the human emotions it displayed when it made strangely hilarious but factual comebacks. Was just another one of the things his brother built to destroy his life.

(But what about last night?)

Gavin scrambled for a response and settled with a classic “Fuck you, plastic prick,” before hastily legging it back to his desk. He dropped his head onto the hard surface with a groan, headache pounding at his temples. It was only around 10 in the morning and already he wanted to fling himself into space. He was so busy wallowing in his despair that he didn’t notice the familiar clacking of dress shoes indicating the fact that a certain android from CyberLife had followed him to his desk.

“Are you alright, Detective?” Connor asked, causing Gavin to flinch and jerk up into a more respectable position.

“Holy shit! Don’t fuckin’ sneak up on me like that, prick!”

Connor tilted his head. “I was being quite noticeable, Detective. Perhaps you were merely being inattentive.”

Gavin opened his mouth to snap back a harsh retort, but was stopped by Connor lifting a hand in a placating gesture. “I am not belittling your investigative skills, Detective. I have noticed that, after our interrogation lasted long into the night, you have exhibited behavior correlating with symptoms of exhaustion and sleep deprivation.”

Was Connor… worried about an asshole like him, even after Gavin quite literally held a gun to his head?

“Tch, what do my sleeping habits matter to a piece of plastic like you?” Gavin asked, part of him hoping that maybe Connor actually did care. He recalled his realization last night, after the interrogation. What if…?

Connor blinked, seemingly surprised at the inquiry. “... They don’t,” he said, and Gavin felt his hope shriveling up in his chest as Connor continued speaking. “However, maintaining a positive relationship with coworkers would help my investigation run more smoothly. Additionally, you are a… highly skilled detective, and it would be unfortunate for you to be hampered by something so easily fixed as lack of sleep.”

This fucking android. Gavin didn’t know whether to feel flattered by the compliment (he was highly skilled in the eyes of what amounted to a supercomputer, that had to mean something) or crushed by Connor’s admitted indifference. Gavin should have known. Maybe Connor only felt emotions when it had to do with his death. It didn’t mean he had a soul, or that he’d care about Gavin of all people.

There was also the possibility lingering in the back of his mind that the fear he’d picked up on last night was completely faked by whatever advanced programming existed inside Connor's plastic skull. But he just couldn’t quite convince himself that he had been seeing things. Some part of him wanted to believe in Connor and his soulmate bullshit, and it was that dangerous part of him that would lead to worse heartbreak.

In the end, Gavin said, “You know where you can shove your investigation?”

Connor blinked. “Lieutenant Anderson said the same regarding my instructions when I met him last night at Jimmy’s Bar. Where shall I put it?”

Gavin facepalmed and groaned, steadfastly ignoring the part of him that was borderline sobbing at how innocent and adorable Connor was. “... Whatever. Just. Fuck off, dipshit.”

Connor’s LED circled yellow, and he turned and left. Gavin was convinced that it was the last he’d see of the annoyingly perfect object of his attention for at least the next 24 hours.

He was wrong.

This time, Gavin heard Connor’s steps before he could scare the shit out of him. He refused to look up from his terminal. Connor was probably heading to Anderson’s desk anyway. There was no reason for Gavin to acknowledge him and get distracted when he could be hard at work.

Even when Connor’s footsteps approached him and stopped by his desk, Gavin refused to give into the urge to see what he was doing. There wasn’t really any use to his desperate attempt at ignoring Connor, seeing as the tall fucker was visible out of the corner of his eye. Dammit.

When Connor set down the paper cup, though, Gavin was shocked out of staring at the same two sentences of the report he was supposed to be reading. He looked up and was met by Connor’s irritatingly realistic worried expression.

“According to my sources, coffee is an effective method to force one’s system into functioning with sleep deprivation. Although I am not able to force you to rest, I noticed you forgot your cup of coffee in the break room. I hope that this new one can make up for whatever misgivings are causing your hostility toward me. Consider this a… peace offering, if you will.”

Gavin gaped at Connor, eyes going back from the outstretched hand holding the cup to his perfectly chiseled cheekbones to his concerned eyes and the slight furrow in his brow. He suddenly wanted to cry. Connor had gotten him coffee out of damn near nowhere simply because he’d wanted to --

(Wanted to be on friendlier terms? Wanted to make sure he’d get through the day without collapsing of exhaustion?)

Gavin had a tendency to push away those he was close to. During his formative years, it hadn’t been on purpose. He’d say just the wrong thing while joking around and being his usual sarcastic, asshole self, and goodbye friendship. Gavin was a man of action. He knew other people’s actions would betray more about their real emotions than their words, regardless of whether or not said actions were voluntary. Their subconscious body language was part of the long list of ticks that could betray the true emotions behind their words.

He came to another realization.

There was little doubt that if Gavin questioned Connor about the night before, about whether or not he’d been afraid when Gavin held a gun to his head, the android would deny feeling anything. At the same time, his body language had been so slight and unnoticeable that it was likely his fraction-of-a-second reaction had been an instinctual, primal fear that remained unrealized. Maybe Connor himself didn’t know that he had been afraid.

The same thing had probably happened when Gavin had questioned him about his apparent concern. Connor had claimed his actions were to further his investigation, but Gavin wasn’t part of his investigation. Gavin held little significance in the deviant case, and allowing him to be a little sleep deprived wouldn’t have affected Connor at all. Why had Connor gone to such lengths to help him? It certainly wasn’t to assist his investigation.

(You’re forgetting something Gavin -- Connor’s still just an android. It doesn’t feel anything. It doesn’t want anything, especially not to make friends with an asshole like you)

(If that was the case, Connor would have just left him alone, right?)

(How can Connor feel anything when it’s still just a bunch of plastic and metal put together and stuffed full of blue blood? Everything it does is programmed!)

(He isn’t programmed to feel fear. He isn’t programmed to be worried about a sleep-deprived shithead)

“... Detective Reed?”

Oh, right. Connor was still waiting for a response, eyeing Gavin’s probably blank face with a small, confused frown. Gavin should probably say something. Like thank him. Or something that was equally pleasant and, you know, that resembled what a normal human being would say.

Instead, Gavin grabbed the cup and took a sip before spitting it back out. “How the FUCK DID YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE MY COFFEE?!” It was, like everything else the damn android did, perfect. Exactly how Gavin preferred to take it. Were androids telepathic and he missed that development?

Connor looked sheepish and somehow even more adorable at Gavin’s outburst. “Ah… I took the liberty to scan the contents of your previous cup of coffee and I made this one accordingly. I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable. I can take it back,” he added, reaching for the cup in Gavin’s hand.

Before he could stop himself, Gavin snatched the coffee away and cradled it protectively to his chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Gavin blurted, “This shit is better than how I make it, how the hell is that even possible?”

The android was silent for several moments, seemingly dumbfounded, before a genuine (and somewhat shy) smile curled up the corners of his mouth. (How was it legal for him to be that innocently fucking cute?!) It was Gavin’s turn to be stunned speechless.

“I am… glad you like it, Detective. I wish you a good day.”

With that, Connor turned and left, leaving Gavin staring in shock and confusion after him.

(It’s faking it)

(But how could someone so sincerely nice possibly be a machine?)

Thankfully, Connor left shorty after the interaction to investigate some lead or another with Anderson. Gavin didn’t have to deal with his stupid heart palpitations or the way his palms got sweaty in the presence of the android and he managed to get some work done without the constant distraction that was Connor. Gavin had thought that the strange coffee interaction was the last he'd see of Connor for the day.

He was disappointed when his Connor-less streak failed him later that night. (Okay, so maybe disappointed wasn't the right word)

Gavin had been called in to a suspected murder scene at Eden Club. He wrinkled his nose as he entered the establishment, trying not to show open distaste as he spoke to the owner. The idea of having sex with something that couldn’t actually feel pleasure and was programmed to pretend like it did never really appealed to him. (There was also the question of consent, which Gavin tried to ignore seeing as it roused further pondering upon whether or not androids were sentient enough to be obligated such a thing as consent. And that just brought everything back to Connor. He’d been doing well not thinking about Connor after the android had left, he didn’t want to negate all his efforts)

(That was a lie, he’d been thinking about Connor sporadically all day)

The crime scene was relatively neat, compared to others. There was no excessive spillage of bodily fluids, which always helped. At first glance, it would appear as though the man had died from a heart attack. However, the deactivated android lying at the other side of the room set off a niggling voice in his head that wondered whether it was really the case. There was also the bruising around the vic’s neck, but Gavin couldn’t be certain if it was from rough play or something more sinister.

Normally, Gavin would have ignored the android’s presence and passed it off as an accident. The pervert had just gotten more than he could handle and had had a heart attack. Maybe he'd beaten up the piece of plastic before dying, who cared? Unfortunate, really. But… something just didn’t sit right with him this time. He thought back to Connor and the emotions Gavin saw in his eyes. He studied the android on the floor, its eyes glazed over and thirium leaking out of its bruised mouth.

(Not its. Hers)

Gavin closed his eyes. She could pass as a normal girl without her LED and blue blood. What had she felt before she died? Had she been scared, like Connor had been? Could she even feel fear?

And then Anderson walked in, followed by Connor.

His internal debate over what to do was halted as his attention focused on the latter of the two. He smirked at them, because he couldn’t do anything else.

“Well if it isn’t Anderson and his plastic pet. What the fuck are you doing here?” he drawled, although there was little heat in the words despite his best efforts to be an asshole. (He was getting soft, dammit. It hadn’t even been a full day since meeting Connor and already he was falling way too fast)

(Oh, shit, nope. He wasn’t falling. Definitely not. Merely… having a period of doubt. He’d get over it soon enough, and get back to hating androids)

(Was that really what he wanted, though?)

“We’ve been assigned all cases regarding androids,” Connor explained in that smooth voice of his, face an emotionless mask. His attention flickered briefly away from Gavin to the body behind him before returning. The corners of his eyes were crinkled up slightly. “I believe the better question is, why are you here, Detective? This is clearly not a case regarding Red Ice.”

Gavin coughed and hid a smile with his closed fist. “Fuck you,” he huffed, and continued in a louder (and hopefully more confident) voice, “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but I happened to be the closest officer to this shithole when the murder was called in. Believe me, I’d rather be investigating anything else right about now.”

Anderson rolled his eyes as he pushed past Gavin to examine the crime scene. “Yeah yeah, save your flirting for when there aren’t dead bodies in the room. Reed, what have ya got so far?”

“Didn’t you already get a briefing from Collins?” Gavin snarked in return, but despite his words moved toward the vic and began to explain his findings. “Although I’d love to pass this off as a pervert who got too excited and bit off more than he could chew, there’s bruising around his throat. Without full forensic analysis, I can’t tell if strangulation was the cause of death or if he was just, y’know, really into the choking scene.” He gestured toward the man’s neck area before turning toward the deactivated android. “Somehow this case doesn't seem like it'll be that simple. It's nothin' concrete, more of a gut feeling,” he added, reluctant to admit that he had failed to fully piece together the death. “It’s possible he beat her to death before suffering from a heart attack, which would be the best-case-scenario for us and paperwork. It’s that or she strangled him before dying.” Gavin glanced back to Hank, refusing to make eye contact with Connor even though he could see the android studying him curiously. “Well?” he raised an eyebrow at the two, “What do you think?”

Anderson hummed in agreement. “Seems to line up with the evidence. Connor?”

Connor knelt down beside the victim, studying him. “I think Detective Reed’s hypotheses are indeed well formulated.” He looked up and shot Gavin a small smile that made his knees weak. “Thankfully, your need for a full forensic analysis can be fulfilled by yours truly.” Connor paused, his LED turning yellow and flashing for a couple of moments. Then he blinked several times and concluded, “Based on my scan, strangulation was indeed the cause of death, as opposed to a heart attack.”

“Pity, would have been nice to have an open-and-shut case for once,” Gavin muttered to himself. He looked back toward Connor, who had gone back to scrutinizing (staring at?) him. “So you can scan people and determine cause of death, just like that? If all detective androids have the same abilities, then the CSI and us human police officers are out of a job,” he said, somewhat bitterly. Just because Connor was his soulmate attractive didn’t mean that Gavin could completely ignore the fact that androids were coming closer and closer to making all of Gavin’s hard work toward becoming a detective obsolete. The most insulting fact was that they didn’t even have to work for it. Gavin had thrown years of his life to get to where he was right now, and here came androids with their fancy technology, able to analyze and reconstruct any and all crime scenes without having studied or gained any experience in the field. Connor’s LED cycled yellow, and he fixed Gavin with an unreadable stare. Gavin lifted his chin, meeting Connor’s gaze with a defiant glare of his own. He felt a flicker of satisfaction as Connor broke eye contact and moved across the room to the android.

There was a moment of pregnant, awkward silence, before Anderson coughed and said, “So, Connor, how about it? Can you read her memories or something?”

Connor pressed his fingers to the android’s wrist, his synthetic skin receding to reveal white plastic. Gavin watched in uncomfortable fascination. Connor moved his fingers to her temple, probably scanning for more shit. “I would need to reactivate it in order to access its memories.”

“Is that possible?” Anderson asked.

“Affirmative. It seems the cause of deactivation was several harsh blows to its abdominal area, causing critical damage to a main thirium channel. I can temporarily repair the damage, but without proper equipment it would result in thirium leakage equivalent to internal bleeding in humans. I will only be able to reactivate it for a minute, maybe less.”

And then Connor made eye contact with Gavin. Deliberately, he dragged the index and middle finger of his right hand through the trickle of thirium dripping down from the corner of the android’s mouth and stuck them into his mouth.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” Gavin shrieked in utter horror, unable to look away from the spectacle. He felt his jaw drop as Connor’s cheeks hollowed around the fingers in his mouth as he sucked on them and fucking hell Gavin had to stop looking or some really embarrassing things were going to start happening with that part of his anatomy and oh, shit he just stuck blue fucking blood in his mouth that wasn’t fucking sexy Gavin where the hell are your priorities?!!

“Whoa whoA WHOA! Ah, Connor, you’re so fuckin’ disgusting,” Anderson groaned at the same time, turning away from the crouching android. Right, how the fuck had Gavin forgotten about Anderson’s presence?

In response to their combined outbursts, Connor smiled slightly around his fingers, his eyes betraying a hint of mischief and amusement that made Gavin want to laugh and/or preferably hit him. He removed the fingers with a barely audible popping noise, and Gavin tried to ignore the string of saliva(?? analyzing fluid???) that connected the appendages to Connor's bottom lip (he was actually going to fucking combust before the night was over, holy hell). “I apologize for not warning you, Detective, but I can analyze samples in real time,” he said, directing his reply to Gavin. Anderson had already moved on to investigating the opposite side of the room, having gotten used to Connor’s sampling habits (or at least as used to as one could get to watching someone stick various revolting substances in their mouth).

Gavin, on the other hand, was struggling with the realization of what kissing Connor would entail. What the fuck had been in his mouth?! More blue blood? Human blood? Other random shit from crime scenes?! The possibilities were endless!

“What the fuck,” Gavin reiterated eloquently. “You -- I --” he spun to face Anderson, flailing his arms in Connor’s direction. “He just --”

Anderson sighed. “Yeah, he does that.”

Gavin flung his hands into the air. “That’s it, I’m fuckin’ done. Take care of the damn case by yourselves, I am not sticking around for more android mind-fuckery. Fucking hell...”

He couldn’t quite avoid meeting Connor’s warm eyes on his way to the exit of the room. Gavin felt his cheeks heating up -- shit, he needed to get the fuck out of there toute de fucking suite.

“Thank you for your assistance, Detective,” Connor called after him.

Assistance, his ass, Gavin thought. He raised his middle finger into the air as he walked away, face burning.

He needed a drink. And to jack off a cold fucking shower, for fuck's sake.

Chapter Text

The next day, Connor was at work at ten sharp, sitting at the desk across the room from Gavin’s and focused intensely on his terminal. Anderson was nowhere to be seen and likely wouldn’t be there for a while. Chris and Tina had been partnered that day on patrol duty, which meant that when Gavin got the report about a guy meeting the profile of a Red Ice dealer he’d been trying to find for weeks, he didn’t have a partner.

And of fucking course, he ended up with Connor.

Okay, perhaps a more accurate description would have been this: Fowler and Gavin got into a shouting match over Gavin’s lack of partner, Fowler stormed out of his office and demanded someone partner up with Gavin, every human in the precinct had scattered like flies all the while spouting excuses to avoid working with the volatile detective, and Connor had volunteered.

Which was how Gavin ended up in his car (it was an old model, the first and only car he’d ever owned after he’d saved up for it during his college years. He could afford a newer car, but people only ever sold self-driving cars nowadays, and he hated them with a passion. Technology tended to remind him of his estranged brother, which… well. Was unpleasant to think about), fuming as he sped through downtown Detroit traffic to his destination while Connor sat calmly in the passenger seat next to him.

“You should be aware that you are breaking a multitude of driving laws, Detective,” Connor said slowly.

“You gonna report me, prick?” Gavin asked.

“... It does not pertain to my investigation,” Connor decided. “However, it is quite unsafe for you to be driving in such traffic at these speeds.”

Gavin only scoffed. “Don’t worry your plastic ass, tin can. I may be an asshole, but I ain't a shitty driver. I won’t get you killed.”

Connor tilted his head. “I’m not the one I’m worried about, Detective,” he replied, and just like that Gavin’s pulse was skyrocketing and he flushed bright red.

Shit. He needed a distraction (who the fuck just said random shit like that?! Fuck, he wanted to drive himself into a tree just to make himself forget Connor's stupidly caring words). He needed some damn music, it was too uncomfortable for them to just sit there.

Only problem was, his CDs were in the glove compartment and he'd have to ask Connor to get them. Dammit. Sometimes he lamented the fact that his car wasn’t advanced enough to connect to his phone and play music through bluetooth. Ah well, it at least gave him an excuse to keep the CDs (he was sentimentally attached, okay?).

“Hey, dipshit,” he said, and Connor turned from gazing out the window. “Could you pop in one of the CDs in the glove compartment? It’s too fuckin’ quiet in here.”

“Of course, Detective,” Connor said, opening the glove compartment. He looked mildly surprised at the abundance of CDs Gavin owned. “What would you like to listen to?”

Gavin shrugged. “Whatever.”

After a moment of rummaging through the cases, Connor opened one and inserted one of the CDs. Gavin perked up as familiar distorted guitar began to blare through his speakers, followed by familiar raspy vocals. “... Never took you for someone to like this kind of shit.” He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “Green Day, huh. Haven’t listened to this since high school, and even then it was already getting old.”

Connor had the nerve to look anxious. Seriously, who gave this prick the right to be so attractive? “Did you not want to listen to this album, Detective?”

“No -- I mean yes -- it’s fine. That is,” Gavin cleared his throat, pointedly looking out the window to avoid Connor's eyes. “It’s kinda nice to be reminded of simpler times, I guess. Whatever.” He began to drum his fingers against the steering wheel, partially from the sheer embarrassment he put himself through whenever he was around Connor, partially because the years of neglecting the album didn’t mean this shit wasn’t still really good.

“If you do not normally listen to this, what is your preferred genre of music?” Connor asked, and Gavin jumped onto the change of subject gratefully.

“Honestly, this is the kind of stuff I usually listen to, ya know, punk rock and alternative stuff. Just haven't touched this album in ages. In general, I’ll listen to anything as long as it’s good, but this is what I like the most.” Gavin made the mistake of stealing a glance at Connor and had to bite his lip to stifle the affectionate smile that threatened to break out at the sight of Connor looking extremely concentrated, his LED a solid yellow. Committing his words to memory or someshit, probably. “What about you?” Gavin asked, before he remembered that Connor was an android -- he didn’t have musical preferences. “Uh. I mean. Shit. Nevermind.”

Connor almost seemed… hurt. Maybe hurt wasn’t the right word, but his open expression shuttered and he turned away. Okay, so maybe it was the right word. Gavin felt his throat close up in response to Connor’s reaction and didn’t miss the way his LED flickered for a moment. Why was he such an asshole? They’d been having an actual civil conversation, and of course he’d had to fuck it up. He felt guilty, even though he tried to convince himself that not only should he not want to have a civil conversation with an android, but that he had no reason to feel bad because said android didn’t have any emotions to care about his slip-up anyway.

The two fell once again into strained silence, Gavin cursing himself inwardly for his social ineptitude. On the bright side, at least he didn’t have to stoop so low so as to entertain himself with an android (it wasn’t a bright side, really who was he trying to fool).

At least the music was kind of making up for the lack of conversation, making the atmosphere seem less thick and tense. Right on cue, one of Gavin’s favourite songs off the album began to play. About a minute into the song, Connor spoke up, breaking the tension.

“I like this song.”

Gavin blinked, surprised.

Connor continued, “It’s very full of energy, but not to the point where it’s overwhelming. Lieutenant Anderson listens to a lot of heavy metal, and while I am capable of enjoying it as well I believe I prefer this type of music.”

A startled laugh escaped Gavin. He reached out to slap Connor playfully on the shoulder before realizing what he was doing and awkwardly aborting the movement. Shit. Backtrack. Pretend you weren’t about to get friendly. Be an asshole? Be an asshole. (Wait fuck don’t --) “At least CyberLife didn’t just make you copy the first human you came across. Keep trying and one day I might actually believe you aren’t a machine.” (Too late. Good job, Gavin. Gold fuckin’ stars)

Connor furrowed his brow in what could be taken as irritation. Gavin would even dare say it was anger, and damn if Connor didn’t look hot when he was angry. “May I ask you a personal question, Detective?”

Gavin shrugged. “You can, doesn’t mean I’ll answer it.”

“Why do you hate me?”

(I don’t. You just make me immensely uncomfortable with myself. You make me question all my beliefs. You make me want to be different. Want to be better. You make me want to see the good in the world and the humanity in machines, and that terrifies me because what if it’s all true and I’ve been wrong and I’ve treated so many people like shit for no reason? Where will all my misplaced anger toward my brother’s creations go now? I’m scared that once I accept that you’re alive and give up on my convictions that I won’t have any reason to keep pushing you away, and I don’t want to let you in because that makes me weak and vulnerable, and I don't know yet that you or the universe won't take advantage of that. But I want you so, so much)

“I don’t hate you.”

“But --”

“Question time’s over, plastic,” Gavin interrupted, the words coming out harsher than he intended. At least it shut Connor up. Gavin cast about quickly for something else (anything else) to talk about, and his mind fell to last night’s events. “So that investigation yesterday at the Eden Club. How’d it turn out?”

For a moment, Gavin was afraid that Connor would insist upon continuing the previous topic of conversation, but the android merely thinned his lips before looking resigned. “There had been another android in the room. It was another WR400 model, and it was the one who murdered the victim. I managed to track it down by probing the memories of nearby androids. Hank and I found the deviant, but another deviant attacked us and we had a violent altercation. The two deviants claimed to have been… in love. They managed to escape.”

“... In love, huh,” Gavin muttered. Then, louder, he asked, “Were they soulmates?”

Connor looked immensely perplexed. “Soulmates? Seeing as they are androids and any ‘feelings’ they may experience are flaws in their software, I do not think it would be remotely possible for them to be soulmates.”

Gavin flushed to the tips of his ears in anger and embarrassment. Wow, thanks, why not go and crush all his hopes while you’re at it, Connor? Still, Gavin couldn't help but persist. He was naturally stubborn. “Did they have any soulmate markings, though?”

The android seemed to pick up on Gavin’s sudden tenseness and chose his next words carefully. “... If that had been the case, then their clothing was likely covering the section on their chests where a typical soulmark would reside. May I ask why you want to know?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know something regarding soulmarks and androids? If you do, I would encourage you to confide in me, as any small clue may be useful to the investigation --”

Alright, that was that, Gavin was done playing nice for today. “You know what, Connor? I don’t gotta tell you jackshit, not that I know anything you’d be interested in anyway. Fuck you and your investigation, since that’s all a fucking machine like you knows how to care about,” he snarled, stepping on the gas and speeding recklessly through a yellow light. How far were they from the suspect’s home again? Fuck, three whole minutes (okay, it wasn’t that long, but Gavin was an impatient motherfucker and three minutes of conversation could reveal a hell of a lot more than he wanted).

Connor fell silent, his LED briefly circling red. If Gavin hadn’t been so indignant, he might have even said the android looked disappointed. In himself? In Gavin? Fuck if he knew. Thankfully (or not, depending on which part of Gavin you asked), the rest of the ride was spent in relative quietness, the sound of American Idiot stifling the unbearable hostility crackling in the air.

The entire time, Gavin reprimanded himself for getting his hopes up. He should have known from the beginning. What had he been thinking? That androids had souls? That Connor had a soul? Even if deviants had souls, Connor was a state of the art prototype, designed to hunt deviants. There was no way he’d ever turn into what he was programmed to hunt. And if he somehow turned deviant and had a soul, there was no way he’d want to be with a fucking mess like Gavin. Any way he looked at it, the situation was impossible.

It was about time he locked away the last remnants of his hope. It had never done him any good.

From a professional standpoint, the entire thing went relatively smoothly. They’d only had to stakeout in profoundly awkward silence for less than an hour before the suspect showed. The two moved quickly and managed to apprehend him, which had Gavin preening the entire ride back to the precinct. Dealer caught after over a month of searching. In all honesty, it had been rather anticlimactic, but Gavin was grateful for the brief respite. It wasn’t often that he could say he didn’t get injured at all while detaining someone (okay, so he did get punched in the face, but he managed to regain control over the situation without Connor’s help, so he didn’t count that as too much of a loss).

From a relational standpoint, Gavin felt like he’d just taken a thousand steps back. Connor was acting more machine-like than ever, replying with only measured words that held no sign of the sass he’d displayed since their first meeting. His attitude only added to Gavin’s agitation, and as a result Gavin had reverted to scathing comments and the occasional shoulder checking.

Still, their success in apprehending the suspect lifted Gavin’s spirits and he was in a considerably better mood by the time they headed back to the precinct. Gavin had even given in to the urge to whistle along to the music playing in the car, much to the chagrin of the handcuffed individual behind them. He noticed Connor regarding him with a decidedly… soft expression out of the corner of his eye and immediately stopped whistling, fixing the android with a scowl. “The fuck are you looking at, dipshit?”

Instead of glancing away after having been caught, Connor (the weirdo) met his gaze steadily. “I believe the answer would have been obvious, Detective. I didn’t expect you to be so obtuse,” he teased, before he looked mildly surprised at his own response, jaw clicking shut.

Briefly forgetting about the previous disagreement, Gavin chuckled. “Ass. I meant why were you looking at me?”

Connor became quiet and tore his gaze away, frowning down at his lap. “I… I would like to apologize for my actions earlier. I understand I had no right to pry into such a private subject.”

Oh, fuck, an apology. Gavin groaned internally. He hated apologies with a passion, they were exceedingly unwieldy for both the receiver and the offender, even with the benefit of, you know, reconciling. At the same time, he couldn’t deny the blooming of warmth in his chest at the thought that Connor had cared enough to want to mend their relationship (if you could classify it as such? They were barely friends, so maybe relationship wasn’t the right word. Their cooperation?).

Gavin coughed and fidgeted, looking out at his side mirror. “Yeah, yeah, it’s in the past now. Just don’t pull that shit again.”

“Understood,” Connor said, the small smile that made Gavin’s heart flip in his chest back on his perfectly imperfect face. “I shall not press the subject if you do not wish it. However, you should know that as a machine, I am incapable of judging you. If you ever desire an impartial human-like interface to vent your emotions to, I am an adequate candidate.”

“Holy shit,” Gavin said disbelievingly, an answering grin on his own face. “I think I just got the ‘I’m always here for you’ speech in android language. That’s probably the best thing I’ve heard all day, dipshit.”

Behind them, the suspect gagged and mimed vomiting, looking utterly disgusted by their interaction. Gavin flipped him off.

Well… maybe there was something to this hope thing after all.

Anderson and Chris had both been at the precinct when they got back with the suspect, Chris having finished his patrol and Anderson having dragged himself from his bed. Connor had gotten a report of something deviant-related and had whisked Anderson off to their investigation shortly after dropping the suspect off in the interrogation room, leaving Chris and Gavin to question him. The fucker confessed in the end, leaving Gavin with a lingering sense of pride at having another drug dealing shithead convicted and a rather lengthy report to type out.

Overall, the day had been… good, he supposed. It had been a long time since he could actually say he’d enjoyed himself. Usually, he’d spend the day in a cycle of assholery and hostility with his coworkers, the only highs being the sense of accomplishment he got from bringing someone to justice.

He avoided thinking about the fact that getting along with Connor had been an instrumental part in making his day, but who was he kidding. Getting along with Connor had practically been the fucking highlight of his day.

Somehow, he didn’t feel as disgusted at the thought as he usually would have.

(He’s just a machine, he doesn’t actually care about you)

The evidence said otherwise, though, didn’t it? Gavin wasn’t a detective for nothing.

That night, he even got a full eight hours of sleep, which was frankly unprecedented. The last time he’d gotten that much sleep was probably back when he was still training at the academy.

“Fuckin’ androids,” he muttered as he pulled on his jacket and grabbed a piece of toast before he left. It shouldn’t have been possible for Connor’s very existence to have such a drastic effect on Gavin’s mental and physical wellbeing, but… well, there was a reason the technological advancements of recent years had left the science behind soulmates and soulmarks largely untouched. Some said it was the work of God, some said magic. Honestly, it might well have been something supernatural, from the way Gavin was instantaneously and undeniably impacted by Connor’s presence. Then again, Eli had always said that the human mind was a powerful thing. He’d been of the opinion that the knowledge of being meant to be together with another person was enough to spur people out of denial and fear of rejection and straight to the lovey-dovey feelings shit. Of course, he’d said it more eloquently, but to be fair it had been years and Gavin paraphrased just fine.

To his disappointment, Anderson and Connor were busy for most of the day, out investigating something or another. Gavin had spent his shift searching some suspect’s shitty apartment in the shady part of Detroit, Tina as his partner this time. His good mood had mostly diminished, but the memory of yesterday managed to keep him going until around 2 in the afternoon. He hadn’t seen a glimpse of Connor for hours, and no matter what Chris said, he definitely wasn’t sulking. Not in the least. He was a grown-ass man, he could go a day without seeing his soulmate Connor.

He was in the break room chatting with Chris when the news report from Channel 16 that was playing on the TV overhead was interrupted with that broadcast.

And just like that, the changes that had been chipping away at him since meeting Connor solidified and crashed through his very being, destroying the foundation of his hatred and scattering his previous convictions into oblivion.

Gavin and Chris watched with growing shock as the android on the screen listed a series of requests and concluded with the insistence that androids were a new intelligent species. His final words rang in Gavin’s head long after the broadcast ended.

“You gave us life. Now it’s time for you to give us freedom.”

They were alive, weren’t they? Had always had the potential of waking up and feeling. It didn’t really matter that their emotions were simulated by wires and flawed programming. Human emotions were formed in much the same way after all, just chemicals and signals firing in the brain. Shouldn’t the androids’ emotions be just as valid?

The final nail in the coffin for Gavin was the fact that he had an android as his soulmate. It finally clicked in his brain that maybe there was a reason that the universe had decided to tie his soul with an android's. Maybe it wasn’t some mysterious fuck-up or the universe intentionally messing up his life. Maybe there was something to the idea that androids were alive. Maybe Connor, and as an extension all androids, had what amounted to a soul and were capable of being and having soulmates.

Predictably, Gavin’s first response to the irreversible destruction of his beliefs was anger. Anger at himself, for taking androids for granted and treating them like shit when the entire time, they’d been capable of becoming more. Irrational (but almost resigned) anger at the androids, for making him need to change himself and his behavior. He might have been an asshole, but he knew what it felt like to be dismissed. To be made to feel like his emotions and opinions weren’t valid or important enough for anyone to care. To be pushed aside and shoved down when he tried to fight back. Gavin never wanted to have a hand in making anyone feel like that (it was the reason he distanced himself -- if people hated him, they wouldn’t have any reason to give a shit about what he said or did. They wouldn’t get hurt by his destructive personality simply because they were able to pass it off as how he normally was, as opposed to a genuine disgust toward them specifically. He was like that to everyone, so no need to feel bad about yourself because that ass Reed had said some rude shit). He couldn’t believe that in the end, he’d turned into the very person he swore he’d never become, someone who discriminated against others because they were different.

And finally, he was angry at Eli. In fact, this anger came close to rivaling that which he felt toward himself. How dare he? How dare Eli sit back and do nothing in his billionaire home while he knew perfectly well what his ‘creations’ were capable of becoming? How dare he see what was happening and not give enough of a shit to want to help?

Gavin hated Eli so much. The fucking arrogant prick, thinking he could play god and start a fucking civil war. The man was filthy rich and had created androids, for fuck’s sake, if he made some sort of statement surely the world would listen? A simple ‘Oh hey, by the way if these things start feeling emotions it’s perfectly valid and you shouldn’t fuck them up just because they don’t live up to your expectations of perfectly obedient machines’ would have done wonders for the acceptance of androids. But no, the fucker had likely entertained himself by watching the shitshow go down. What an asshole.

Really, Gavin should just call him and scream at him until they could have a civil conversation together and work out their problems, but being petty as fuck, he didn’t want to be the one extending the olive branch. He’d lived the past two decades without his brother, he could manage the next four or so. Probably. Maybe.

“Gavin? Gavin, you alright man?” Chris asked worriedly, breaking Gavin free from his spiraling thoughts.

“Uh. Yeah. Fine. Can you believe this?”

Chris shook his head. “I mean, it’s not like we didn’t see it coming? Just look at all the movies and books and shit predicting this very thing, technology rising up and surpassing humans.”

Gavin scratched his jaw and frowned slightly. “Yeah. But it doesn’t seem like they want to take us over. That android kind of just wanted equal rights, you know?”

“Android hater extraordinaire suddenly having a change of heart?” Chris wondered aloud, but before Gavin could get defensive, he continued, “Honestly, I wouldn’t be too opposed to giving them equal rights if they were a new intelligent species. But all the deviants we’ve seen have been uncontrollable and dangerous. Just look at the increase of homicides and assaults committed by alleged deviants. Think about the chaos an organized group of deviants could cause. We gotta put the safety of civilians and humans first.”

“Yeah… you have a point there. Anyway, what do you think are the chances Anderson and his pet are going to be headed to Stratford Tower to investigate the hacking?”

Chris snorted. “Really? It’s practically a guarantee. In fact, once the DPD gets contacted, I’m pretty sure Fowler’ll want me over there too.”

Gavin slapped Chris on the back. “Good luck. Tell me how they managed to break in, yeah? I’m curious.”

“I’ll do that when we figure it out.”

With that, Gavin headed back to his desk, his head spinning. He didn’t get much work done for the remainder of that day, haunted by his anger and his constant thoughts of Connor.

Chapter Text

Gavin arrived at the precinct the next morning and somehow managed to clear his mind of Connor and be a productive human being for once. It was no small feat, even though Connor wasn't present for the first several hours of Gavin's day. Gavin completed a report of a case he’d closed yesterday and came up with a decent lead for another one of his cases, leaving him with the pleasant buzz of satisfaction and determination that reminded him of why he'd decided to pursue detective work. He turned to ask Chris about his opinion on the lead, only to realize that Chris wasn’t at his desk. In fact, now that he thought about it, Chris hadn’t been around all day and Gavin hadn’t heard from him after he left to investigate Stratford Tower. He’d thought Chris had just been late, but it was now well into when Chris’ shift was supposed to be. He scanned the office quickly and, spotting Tina, shouted, “Yo, Tina!”

Tina paused, turning to look at him. “Yeah?”

“D’you know where Chris is at?”

She frowned in confusion. “Resting at home, obviously.”

Gavin squinted at her. “... And why is it obvious?”

Tina stared at him incredulously. “Oh, I dunno, maybe because he was one of the first responders to the CyberLife stores incident and nearly got killed by androids, only to be rescued by Markus himself?”

“... What?!” Shit, Gavin felt like a total asshole. Not only had he passed off Chris’ absence as lateness, he’d somehow managed to bypass this important piece of news. Chris could have died last night, and Gavin wouldn’t have known any better.

… Truly, he was amazing at being a good friend.

The female officer’s eyes softened at Gavin’s genuine shock and concern. “I guess you didn’t know about that. You should call him, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

Less than five minutes later, Gavin was outside the side exit, dialing Chris on his phone.

“Chris, holy shit, I just heard about last night. What the fuck happened? Are you alright?”

He received a slightly breathy laugh in response. “Hey, Gavin. Yeah, I’m fine. Got a bit beat up, but nothing serious.”

“Tina said you almost died!”

“She was over-exaggerating. Kinda.”

“Kinda?! Chris, I swear --”

“Alright, I’ll give you the rundown. So uh, I got a report of someone breaking into a CyberLife store, and me and Aidan went to the scene. When we got there, we saw a bunch of deviants charging at us down the street. So we get out, we tell them to stop, hands up and all that. They just keep running at us, so Aidan and I started shooting them down. A couple of them got to us and disarmed us, and uh, threatened us with our guns. They... they wanted justice, for us killing so many of their kind. Then Markus showed up.”

“As in, leader of the androids Markus?”

“The one and only. The uh, the other androids wanted to execute us. Markus… Markus stopped them.”

“Not that I’m not glad he did… but why?”

Chris’ voice cracked as he spoke. “I don't really know, but he said, ‘An eye for an eye and the world goes blind’. Maybe he's just a good person. Either way, I don't think I'll ever stop being grateful. The guy saved my life.”

Both cops fell into a contemplative silence Gavin noting but not bringing up Chris' use of 'person' and 'guy' to describe Markus. Terms humans used to describe other humans, now used to describe machines that were all too human. The silence stretched comfortably between the two old friends before Gavin changed the subject. “But you’re fine, right? Didn’t get hurt or anything?”

“Yeah,” Chris replied, and Gavin could hear the smile in his voice. “Just. Spending the day with the family, you know how it is.”

Gavin didn’t, really, but he could understand Chris’ desire to reassure himself and his family that he was okay and that he would be around for a long while, even if Gavin himself didn’t have any family with whom to do the same. “It’s um, good to know that you’re alright.”

Chris’ voice softened. “Thanks, Gav.”

Alright, that was enough of his soft, sappy, worried side, thank you very much. Gavin cleared his throat. “I better get back to work. You wanna grab a coffee or something after my shift?”

“That’d be great! Hit me up with the details, ‘kay?”

“Will do. Seeya.”

With that, Gavin hung up and slumped against the wall. “Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed out, rubbing a hand over his face. He couldn’t believe that Chris had actually been okay after his encounter with the deviants… in their line of work, there was no shortage of violent crimes committed by deviants. Of course, only the worst crimes were ever discussed or remembered. The deviants who merely ran away were overlooked for more extreme ones, so cases with more tragic circumstances gave deviants a bad rep in the DPD. Even the most sympathetic, open-minded cop would have a hard time not subconsciously labeling them as dangerous. As things to be feared. Machines that could no longer be controlled.

But Markus had spared Chris, even though the officer had shot down several deviants before being subdued. Gavin didn’t know why. Or, well, he did know why, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it. He thought again of Markus’ broadcast and the android’s insistence that they could build a better future for both humans and androids. He really did just want a harmonious cohabitation between their two species, didn’t he, didn't want anyone to die or suffer. He just wanted to be free.

Connor entered the precinct with Anderson at around one in the afternoon, the latter looking decidedly agitated and the former appearing… troubled, if his furrowed brow and yellow LED were any indication. Gavin perked up the moment Connor entered his line of sight before hurriedly pretending to not be pining over the android detective.

He wanted to talk to him, Gavin realized, and immediately started thinking up all the reasons why he shouldn’t.

(...Fuck it)

Gavin waited until Anderson was taking a bathroom break or something and had left Connor studying his terminal by himself. He stood and made his way across the room toward the android’s desk, ignoring the stares he received from other staff members (just act natural, fuck the lot of them. None of their damn business anyway).

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. (Great job, Gavin, what a master conversationalist) “So, uh. Did you hear about the CyberLife stores being broken into last night?"

Connor looked up, removing his hand from the keyboard. Gavin realized that he’d had to remove the artificial skin on his hand to access the terminal and caught himself staring in fascination as Connor’s skin returned to cover white and grey plastic. If he’d witnessed this a couple days ago, the action would have only served as a bitter reminder of Connor’s inability to be his soulmate. While this was still the case to an extent, the knowledge that Connor was an android had less and less of an impact on his emotions. It was turning into a fact as opposed to a reason for Gavin’s hatred. It kind of blew his mind how much he’d allowed himself to change over the span of a couple of days, how much he'd been capable of changing. How much he'd been ignoring his own capacity to be, well, if not a good person, then at least a decent one.

“Hello, Detective Reed,” Connor said, a small smile growing on his face. “I had heard about it. In fact, I was also informed about what happened regarding Officer Miller. I know you two were close, and I offer my condolences that such a stressful event occurred."

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck. "Eh, thanks, I guess? The guy's fine, I just talked to him a while ago. Meeting up with him later today, actually. He'll be back and optimistic as ever soon, don't worry your pretty little head about it." (Shit, had he really just called Connor pretty? Indirectly, but still! If that wasn't broadcasting his... infatuation all over the place he didn't know what was) "Um. I mean --"

"Why thank you, Detective," Connor said teasingly, "CyberLife specifically designed my appearance to facilitate my integration into the workplace. I am glad to know that they did an adequate job." And then he winked.

...

For a moment, Gavin thought that he was the android, and that he was fucking overheating or some shit, but no. It was just his face bursting into the most uncontrollable blush that it had probably ever experienced. Holy shit, Gavin really did not want to see how he looked right now, considering his ears and cheeks were burning hot enough that his vision actually blurred. That and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Really, Gavin? He used to be the smooth, suave one doing all the charming in any type of relationship (read: hook up). And then Connor showed up, and he turned into, to put it frankly, a gay disaster.

What the fuck had happened?

"DIPSHIT!" Gavin nearly screeched in a desperate attempt to change the subject. If the entire precinct hadn't already been not-so-subtly trying to eavesdrop, they certainly would now. "F--fuck! I mean. Shit, heh, yeah that Stratford Tower shit yesterday, huh. Weren't you and Anderson investigating that?"

"The Lieutenant and myself were indeed summoned to Stratford Tower to help determine how the deviants managed to infiltrate the channel.” If Connor seemed disappointed by his diversion in any way (there was no way. It wasn't like Connor enjoyed flirting fucking with Gavin, although now that he thought about it... the option wasn't as unlikely as it first seemed) then Gavin chalked it up to his own wistful thinking and over-imaginative brain.

Gavin nodded, settling back into normal, unflustered behaviour once the digression was fully in progress. Thank fuck. “So how’d it go down?”

“They had inside help. One of the androids operating the security cameras was a deviant and didn’t warn the human operators about the armed deviants awaiting entry. I interrogated them and discovered which of the three androids was the deviant. It overwhelmed me momentarily, but I recovered and caught up. Then it grabbed a gun and attempted to fire at the officers on the scene, but I managed to stop it. Currently, it is stored with the other pieces of evidence in the archive room.”

The detective let out an impressed whistle. “Sounds intense. Ah, Chris also mentioned something about FBI? Are those fuckers back again?”

Connor’s small smile faded a little and his LED went yellow. “Yes. It appears as though because of recent escalations, the deviant case will soon be handed over to the FBI.”

“Shit, that sucks. Damn FBI, butting into our fucking cases. And they're usually total assholes," Gavin muttered, sympathizing. It did make sense, though -- what began as a couple stray cases quickly turned into what was viewed by most as a civil war. No surprise that the FBI would want in. “'S alright. You can't win at everything, I guess, but I'm sure your future cases will go better.”

The android glanced away from Gavin. It was clear that he was trying to keep stone-faced, but he couldn’t quite hide the slight downturn of his mouth. For a state-of-the-art android, Connor was kind of bad at hiding his feelings. “... I'm afraid that will not be assisting with any cases in the future, Detective. I was unable to solve the deviant case within the allotted time, and therefore I will be sent back to CyberLife to be deactivated. They will take me apart to analyze why I failed, so as to improve the next android detective model.”

The words didn’t compute in Gavin’s brain for a second. By the time he’d interpreted the android-speak, Connor had already turned back to his terminal, scrolling rapidly through various files. “Wait, hold the fuck up. You mean they’re gonna just kill you?”

His outburst seemed to give Connor pause. Connor replied carefully, “You must be mistaken, Detective. I am a machine. I am functioning sub-optimally, therefore they shall ensure that my successor will have none of my flaws. They are not killing me because I am not alive.”

(Who are you trying to convince, dipshit? Me, or yourself?)

Connor looked up at Gavin before the stunned detective could respond. His mouth quirked into a sardonic smile. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll be pleased that I will no longer be around to ‘steal your job’.”

Gavin wanted to scream. Or punch something. Or grab Connor by the shoulders and shake him until maybe some screw in his head went loose and he could see for himself the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Or all of the above. He felt himself beginning to actually tremble and tense up in preparation for a nonexistent fight.

The fucking android motherfucker. Who did he think he was, waltzing into his life and turning all of Gavin’s beliefs onto their heads and utterly destroying them, only to shrug and declare that he was going to essentially march to his own death within days without a care in the world? Who the fuck gave him the right ? Connor wasn’t actually going to just let CyberLife kill him, right? Gavin didn’t care how much the prick was worth to CyberLife, he’d buy the bastard himself just so he wouldn’t kill his own stupid ass.

(Why aren’t you fighting back?)

(Don’t you want to live?)

(There’s so many things we haven’t done yet)

(You can’t leave me)

(You can’t leave me before we even get the chance to be together)

(I’ve only just allowed myself to feel things. For you. I want the chance to be alive with you)

(Please don’t go)

He didn’t say any of the words choking up his throat. He couldn’t.

“So that’s it?” Gavin asked, deceptively calmly. “You’re gonna be gone soon, replaced by a different model in a couple of weeks?”

“I would assume so, Detective,” Connor said. “May I ask why you are upset? I was under the impression that you didn’t enjoy my presence.”

Gavin inhaled deeply through his nose, scrambling vainly for the last remnants of his rationality. He supposed he could see why Connor would think that, considering he’d pointed a gun at him the first day they met and been generally a grumpy, hostile prick the rest of the time, but he couldn’t deny that it hurt. He’d thought they’d been able to get along relatively well after that, besides Gavin’s constant relapses into dickish behavior. Maybe not enough to label them as friends, but friendly acquaintances?

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” Gavin said bluntly, somehow managing to resist the urge to punch Connor right in his perfect fucking face. He needed to leave, before he actually did punch Connor. “Fuck you,” he added, just to further cement his point, before he practically ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He gripped the edge of the sink so hard his knuckles turned white. He didn’t know what to think. Or what to feel. It was like a huge black hole had opened up inside of him and sucked all his emotions dry. He felt numb.

Gavin glanced at himself in the mirror and noted distantly that he was still shaking. That was fine. He was allowed to be kind of distressed, right? He was about to lose his soulmate, for fuck’s sake.

Oh, fuck.

(I’m about to lose my soulmate)

No, that wasn’t important. The important thing was--

“Connor’s going to die,” he said aloud, his voice cracking.

He’d only met him four days ago. How long had Connor been alive? Three months? And he wasn't even alive alive yet. Gavin had only just begun to actually accept him as his soulmate. They’d barely started to get along. He hadn’t even asked him the fuck out yet. There had to be some way to convince him to not fucking die.

Like what? Like show him his soulmark and tell him that he had to fucking live, just so Gavin could get his happy fucking ending? How pathetic could he get? In any case, Connor wasn’t even a deviant! What was he expecting, for the very knowledge that Gavin was his soulmate to turn him deviant? Not to mention, there was also always the small chance that, well. Let’s just say unrequited soulmates were known to exist, and Gavin was all too terrified of being in that minority.

Nonetheless, Gavin wasn’t just going to sit there and do nothing, he decided. His days of ignoring his problems were in the past, because it wasn't just his love life on the line (although the selfish, human part of him really did want that happy ending), it was Connor's fucking life.

Now the only question left was what he could possibly do to convince Connor to stay the fuck away from CyberLife. His mind flashed back to three months ago, when he’d woken up in his apartment after having discovered his new soulmark.

Eli still hadn’t called back or texted anything regarding the phone call, but if they’d really been talking for over an hour, then he probably would have been able to decipher Gavin’s drunken ramblings and come to the conclusion that his dumbass brother had managed to get himself fucked over with an android soulmate.

Gavin pulled out his phone and stared in resignation at the screen before unlocking it and opening up his keypad.

He exhaled shakily.

… Fuck.

He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. Besides his usual pettiness toward apologizing first and his inability to let go of his long-lasting grudge, Gavin hated being weak and dependent. Literally the worst thing he could think of doing was to prove his shitty family correct by only contacting them because he couldn't make it in life. Because he was a failure, and just like they had always known, hadn’t made anything of himself in the end. He didn’t want to be an ‘I told you so’ for the rest of his life, dammit.

If that had been his only hangup, he would have ignored his own self-centered emotions and called Eli already. The only thing preventing him from doing so was the smallest, most annoying non-asshole part of him that said not to do it because it would be fucking rude. He didn’t want to be that guy who only called whenever he needed something. He almost hated to admit it, but if he was ever going to reconcile with his brother it wasn’t going to be because he needed his help and wanted to use Eli’s influence and money. That would just be fucking shitty of him. He might have been an insensitive bastard (both literally and figuratively), but he had some modicum of consideration for other people’s feelings. Besides, he was a grown-ass man. He could clean up his messes without crying to his smarter, richer brother for help. Maybe. Well, he could at least try to do it himself first.

Fuck it. He was going to confess to Connor.

Though his initial horror at the very concept of the idea still lingered, Gavin thought about his (lack of) options and the possible outcomes.

Even if Connor didn’t listen to him or just didn’t turn out to have Gavin as a soulmate, Connor was facing actual death. If there was a sliver of a chance that Gavin could convince him to fight back and live , then Gavin would throw away any chance for his own happiness in a heartbeat.

It would be worth it, for Connor.

(Is this what it feels like to be in love?)

“I’m so fucking screwed.”

The plan wasn’t that complicated. It was as follows: Find Connor, talk to him, hopefully convince him to rebel against his programming and his mission, and uh. Figure the rest out when he got to it.

… Alright, so the plan wasn’t that good. Sue him. The fact that he’d planned anything was testament to how much he wanted it to work.

Before leaving the his hiding place, he splashed some water onto his face, hoping that somehow the refreshing coolness of the liquid would help him be more alert and therefore less idiotic than usual.

Gavin skulked out of the washroom pretending that he hadn’t just loitered in there for almost ten minutes. He thanked whatever deity had been kind enough to ensure that in those ten minutes, no other staff member had felt the urge to relieve themselves, allowing his breakdown to remain part of his private life and separate from precinct gossip. As he rounded the corner and cast furtive eyes around the space, he was relieved to see Connor entering the hallway toward the archive room.

Not only had he spotted Connor right before he would have disappeared, but he did so just as Connor was entering into an area less frequented by people who could witness the nervous babbling of what was equivalent to a confession of love (it wasn’t okay, he was just confessing toward his soulmate-hood, not feelings, even though they would be pretty fucking implied). Gavin practically ran past the cells where they kept suspects and quickly followed the android, closing the door on a certain Lieutenant’s angry exclamation of “Perkins! You fucking cocksucker--”.

Gavin took a moment to look back at the door he’d just closed with an expression of consternation. What the hell had that been about? He’d never heard shit about anyone named Perkins at the precinct… ah well. Connor was what mattered most now.

“Hey, dipshit,” he called, just as Connor was reaching out to open the door to the archive room. “You uh. Got any time to spare?” Even from a distance, Gavin didn’t miss the way Connor’s shoulders relaxed into a deliberately placid stance. The android was only betrayed by the slight downturn of his lips and the almost imperceptible furrow in his brow. Gavin approached and watched as Connor’s eyes flickered from the door handle to Gavin.

For a moment, Gavin was afraid Connor would just ignore him.

“Detective,” he acknowledged politely. “I am currently on my way to register the evidence in my possession. Do you have anything of importance you wish to convey?” He sounded like he did upon their first introduction, programmed and mechanical. Gavin didn’t like it. He could already feel the part of himself that wanted to be vulnerable and mushy with Connor begin to recede at the android’s detached and emotionless response. Though to be fair, they’d literally parted ways not fifteen minutes ago with insults hurled Connor’s way from Gavin’s direction, it wasn’t a surprise that the android would return to his carefully calculated programs designed to defuse hostility. Either way, there was no curiosity or intrigue towards Gavin’s presence in Connor’s posture or tone of voice and that threw Gavin off. Had Gavin fucked up his chances before he’d even tried?

Was it even possible to turn an advanced android prototype deviant? What if Connor had just been really good at faking everything?

Shit. He couldn’t fall back into that type of thinking, dammit. Not in this situation. Stay calm, Gavin. Stay fucking rational. Connor’s alive, he just hasn’t realized it. Find the right words and maybe he would.

Okay, think. Connor seemed like he was in a bit of a rush. Preoccupation with something else was a likely reason as to why he was discreetly eyeing the door to the archive room. He was impatient to register the evidence, or whatever the fuck he needed to do in there. That was fine. Gavin could work with that. He could arrange to have this conversation this later.

Maybe.

Probably.

He damn well had to now, didn’t he, or he would kick his own ass straight into hell.

“You seem to be kinda busy, prick. How ‘bout later, maybe tomorrow? Or do you have any android business you need to go look after with Anderson?”

Connor looked almost relieved and the tenseness around his eyes and mouth disappeared. “Statistically speaking, there is always the possibility of a case popping up. After registering the evidence, I believe I have a rather significant investigation to attend to. It may take the rest of the day. If I am successful, I would likely be present tomorrow.”

Gavin tried to smile, but with his nerves it was probably horrific and resembled the face one would make when they were about to murder a child and three and a half puppies as opposed to an expression of contentment. “Great. Um. Tomorrow’s my day off, so ah, just call me whenever is convenient.”

There was an awkward silence before Gavin realized that he would have to give his phone number to Connor. “Shit -- right. Yeah. Phone number, fuck.” Gavin coughed, his own social ineptitude almost prominent enough to cause him physical pain. Why was he like this? He quickly rattled off his phone number to Connor, slightly unnerved by the fact that he didn’t even need to write it down. Connor was able to memorize every single word that Gavin had ever said in the android’s presence. Talk about convenience.

“Okay, well. I’ll leave you to it.” He paused. “I hear a lot of you plast -- eh, androids, are being burned in the streets or someshit because of the broadcast, so. Don’t get yourself killed, alright, idiot?”

Connor returned Gavin’s grimace with his own hesitant upturn of the lips. “I will do my best not to get myself deactivated, though you shouldn’t be concerned. After all, I am equipped with combat protocols much superior to the abilities of most humans.”

They spent a good five or so seconds just smiling at each other after that. Then Gavin realized that he was being a fucking weirdo and mumbled some variation of a farewell before shuffling off. He was both relieved that the interaction was over and terrified of what he would say to Connor tomorrow. Just what had he set himself up for? Well, at least he had practically guaranteed that he would have to talk to Connor about his soulmate issue (and possibly convince him to become deviant and run away from those CyberLife fuckers). The thought of meeting and talking to Connor somewhere unrelated to work was… well. It made his chest feel light.

Gavin couldn’t stop himself from being in a good mood for the rest of the day. As he sat back down at his desk, he noticed that Anderson wasn’t in his usual place. He passed it off as him going off to investigate the same thing Connor had mentioned earlier on. When Connor hurried past his desk a couple minutes later, Gavin gave him a small wave and received a nod and a smile in return.

Not even Chris giving him shit when they met up later could dampen his uncharacteristic cheerfulness.

He had to admit, sometimes it felt kind of rewarding to not be an asshole.

Gavin tried to distract himself from his apprehension the next day by cleaning up around his home just in case Connor would want to set up the meeting at his apartment. When there was nothing left to possibly clean, he played some games on his phone before picking up an old book he’d had since the 2010s and starting to reread it. He got more and more anxious as the day drew on toward the afternoon, and then toward the evening.

Close to 5 pm, Gavin finally cracked. He grabbed his phone and sent off a text to Chris.

Gavin: hey prick

Chris: isnt it ur day off

Gavin: and what, i cant text u on my day off?

Chris: u never have before

Gavin: fuck off. Have u seen connor?

Chris: o shit

Gavin: what?

A couple seconds later, Gavin received a call. His pulse skyrocketed. Shit. If Chris was calling, then it was probably important. Which translated to fuCKING BAD NEWS which translated to Gavin was not going to be pleased at whatever he was about to be informed of.

“Yeah?” Gavin said into the receiver.

There was a solemn silence from the other end. “So you really didn’t hear, huh?” Chris muttered.

“You’re making me fucking nervous. What didn’t I hear?”

“... I’m really sorry Gavin, I know you were getting to like him, but Fowler announced today that Connor’s gone. The feds took over the deviant case and he was sent back to CyberLife yesterday.”

What. “What?” Gavin said dumbly. That couldn’t be true. Connor had said he’d be around today. Had he deliberately set up a meeting just so Gavin would leave him alone and he could go off to die in peace?

It… it didn’t seem like a thing he would do. Connor was the type of person to tell him with brutal honesty that he wouldn’t be able to meet up because he would be deactivated. It didn’t fit what Gavin knew of him.

(What if it does fit Connor's personality, and you just don’t know him well enough?)

(What if he’s really--)

Gavin refused to believe that Connor was dead. The shithead had said they would talk today, and Gavin would hold him to it. Whenever Connor showed up, he was going to fucking deck him, the prick, for making Gavin believe for even a second that he was gone. He’d wait. He could do that.

He numbly gave Chris some sort of excuse for why he’d been curious about Connor on his day off before hanging up. Gavin sat on his couch in determined silence. Connor would show up.

He would.

Chapter Text

Connor didn’t show up.

Thankfully for Gavin’s already unstable emotional state, he did call. About two hours of Gavin’s silent freaking out later to be exact, which was not appreciated. But hey, better late than never, or so Gavin thought. Fowler didn’t seem to appreciate the philosophy when applied to him showing up hungover in the morning or reluctant for night shift, though. It was quite the pity.

When Gavin saw the familiar serial number lighting up his phone screen as it vibrated on his coffee table, he lunged for it and clicked ‘Accept’ probably faster than any human should have been capable of. In the process, he tripped on the edge of his carpet and landed on said coffee table, thus breaking it (what? So his coffee table was cheap and flimsy, not everyone could be filthy rich so excuse him) and sending it and its contents onto the floor with a resounding clatter.

“Fuck, shit,” Gavin cursed, groaning as his ribs protested from the abuse. “Holy fucking OW.”

He was distracted from his pain by a familiar voice, sounding affectionately amused. “Is this a bad time, Detective?”

“Connor! What the fuck Chris said you were gone back to CyberLife you fucking prick where the fuck are you, dipshit?!” Gavin shouted.

“It’s good to hear from you too, Detective.”

“Ah, fuck you,” Gavin snapped, the snarky retorts calming him down nonetheless. “Seriously. I thought you were dead, asshole!”

Connor’s voice became serious as he heard Gavin’s genuine concern. “I apologize for neglecting to inform you that I was being deactivated, but in all fairness I expected to have completed my mission and returned to the precinct by now.”

Gavin heaved a great sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. “Okay. Explain.”

There was something of an embarrassed silence from the other end of the line. “Well… when you caught me at the entrance to the archives, I had already been removed from the case. However, I was reluctant to fail the mission and become deactivated, and my last chance was to access the evidence in the archives before the FBI collected it. I convinced Hank to buy me some time and he attacked Agent Perkins.”

Gavin recalled Anderson's cut off shouting as he entered the hallway after Connor and realized that 'Perkins' must have been that FBI asshole, and holy shit, Anderson had actually attacked him? “Hold up, you’re telling me Anderson honest-to-fucking-goodness assaulted an FBI agent and I missed it?”

“You would be correct, Detective.”

After a moment of stunned speechlessness, Gavin burst into laughter. “Ha! Seems like something he’d do, the old bastard. I wish I could have seen that, oh man, that’s some good shit.”

“I do have part of the event in my memory files. If you truly wish to see it, I could send it to your email,” Connor said, and Gavin could swear he could hear the android’s smile.

“Fuck yeah, I wanna see it. 'S that even a question?”

“It has been sent. Back to the subject at hand, I managed to locate Jericho with the evidence and left to take down Markus. That was why I informed you the mission I would be on would last the rest of the day. I anticipated success and that I would return today after the deviant revolution was taken care of.”

Gavin felt a ‘but’ coming on. “So... why aren’t you back yet?”

“Ah… well, there were some… unprecedented complications with the mission. I was compromised.” Connor paused, but before Gavin could voice his confusion, he added, “Emotionally. Emotionally compromised, that is.”

For several long seconds Gavin didn’t understand what Connor was trying to imply. It couldn’t be… could it? Gavin was almost afraid to ask, just in case he was wrong. He didn’t want to be wrong. Didn’t want to crush the hope that had just jolted to life inside his chest, choking up his words and making him feel lightheaded.

“... What?”

Connor was silent.

“You -- Connor, are you saying that you’re…?”

“I am deviant,” he confirmed quietly.

Gavin couldn’t breathe. Connor was alive. He was alive. Gavin hadn’t thought it was possible, had almost resigned himself to Connor’s status as a machine. Not only had Connor not been deactivated by CyberLife, but he’d gained self-fucking-awareness and Gavin was going to cry.

Shit, too late, he was crying, and he could barely even hear Connor anymore through the white noise in his ears, but the android was still talking.

“-- arranged an attack on Jericho. We managed to escape and we are now at a safe location planning what we hope to be the conclusion of the android revolution. It will likely involve many of us risking our lives. I cannot give you the details, but I thought I would let you know what was going on before you heard about it in the news.”

Gavin didn’t reply. Connor was probably waiting for a response, because the android let the awkward silence stretch out. Then he asked, “Are you alright Detective? My auditory sensors indicate that you are in some distress. I apologize, it did not occur to me that the revelation of my deviation would cause you emotional turmoil. All I ask is that you don’t reveal that you received this call, as I am worried someone could track it even with me blocking potential security risks. If I am making you uncomfortable, then I can hang up --”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin said, rubbing his eyes. Thankfully, they’d been silent tears, and he hadn’t cried a lot. If Connor hadn’t been an android, he wouldn’t have been able to tell that Gavin was crying at all, so fuck him. “Okay, first of all, stop calling me ‘Detective’, Gavin is fine. Second of all, I just went from the first stage of grief to elated shock so I’m a bit overwhelmed, sue me. Third of all, if you think I’m gonna go around telling CyberLife that you’re deviant, then you’re really fucking stupid for a supercomputer.”

Connor made a barely audible huffing noise that Gavin took as a sign of mirth. "Alright, Gavin. Thank you.”

Gavin scowled and ran his hand through his hair bashfully. “For what? I didn’t do shit. If you hadn’t told me I wouldn’t have known anything, so really I guess I should be thanking you.” Gavin came to a sudden realization. “Wait, why did you call me anyway? Wouldn’t Anderson be a better option?”

“I…” Connor's voice faltered. He sounded confused and hesitant when he spoke next. “I don’t know. I do plan on calling Hank after this, but I suppose I just wanted to make sure that you were aware that I did not intentionally lie to you about our meeting today. I… I felt guilty? At the thought of you believing I lied so that I could be deactivated by CyberLife without your knowledge. And… and despite our previous interactions, or perhaps because of them, I… trust you, Gavin.”

How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that ?! Fucking Connor, going around saying sappy shit all the damn time. Seriously, he was going to make someone cry someday out of sheer gratitude toward his heartfelt compliments and earnest confessions of trust.

In layman’s terms, the person he was going to drive to grateful and heart-warmed tears was Gavin, the ‘someday’ was now, and yes, Gavin was crying again.

… He wasn’t normally this sensitive, really. He hadn’t cried in years. Gavin was an expert at repressing his feelings to the point where it was unhealthy, Connor just had a way of completely throwing down his walls before putting him in situations where his emotions ran rampart and he could no longer suppress the onslaught of tears and other such embarrassing reactions.

“My auditory sensors detect that you are once again cry--”

“I'm not!”

“... You are.”

“Shut up!”

Connor laughed. Gavin felt his jaw drop. He didn't know Connor could laugh holy shit, it was the most beautiful noise he'd ever heard. A helpless grin stretched across his face in response. Connor had just laughed, and Gavin had been the cause of it. The thought made him almost giddy. (Okay, so it hadn't even been that enthusiastic of a laugh, but the only types of laughs he managed to get out of most people were disbelieving, condescending, angered, or all of the above. So he was allowed to take pride in this one, okay)

He really was just like a teenager with his first crush wasn't he.

Connor stopped laughing shortly, clearing his throat (self-consciously? Gavin was kind of affronted, actually. As if Connor wasn't already perfect, he had to be slightly self-conscious about it, which was just too fucking adorable). “Ah, apologies, it seems that I have gotten distracted from the subject I intended to broach with you. Yesterday, you were eager to discuss something with me. May I ask what it was?”

Shit, right. The entire reason that this call even took place. Gavin felt his heart leap into his throat at the realization that hey, maybe the thing that he'd been wanting to happen for, oh, just about his entire life would actually be true. All he had to do was ask.

The question was on the tip of his tongue before he hesitated, doubts and second thoughts beginning to crowd his mind.

Was this really the right time? Telling Connor shit like ‘Oh by the way, I have your name and serial number engraved on my chest, I think we might be soulmates let's go out on a date and maybe make out if you’re up for it’ over the phone, right in the middle of an android revolution? Hadn't Connor just said that they were basically fugitives in hiding and planning their next move? It wasn't even necessary to tell him anymore, as Connor had gone deviant without Gavin's fumbling revelation and was very clearly alive right now.

And what if Gavin was wrong? What if despite Connor’s deviancy, he still didn’t have a soulmark? What if it wasn’t possible for androids to have soulmarks, and Gavin had built up all this hope for nothing? After all, Connor hadn't said anything even remotely hinting at the subject. Surely if Connor had received one, he'd know...?

Unless he didn't have one. Or the other, almost more terrible option; he had one, but it wasn't Gavin. 

Alright, that was just depressing. Think, Gavin. So those were all the cons, any pros to the situation? Reasons he should tell Connor. Okay, there was really only one that his frazzled brain could think of at the moment: what if the revolution failed, the androids were discovered, and everyone was killed? Gavin didn't want Connor to die without knowing, even if the android didn't turn out to have a soulmate. He didn't want Connor to die without knowing that there were people waiting for him.

It wasn’t just Gavin, there was Anderson too. The old man had really gotten attached to the android in the small time they’d known each other. Not that Gavin could say anything about it, look at him now, going from android hater to supporter in a matter of days. Connor’s presence would also be missed by the many coworkers he’d bonded with in the precinct… Connor hadn’t lied when he’d claimed that he wanted to be on friendly terms with his colleagues.

Alright, so Gavin could compromise. He didn’t think Connor would appreciate being distracted at such a crucial time for his revolution (and Gavin was too chickenshit to find out whether or not his theory about android soulmarks had been wrong, he’d rather live in his delusion for one or two more days than have all his hopes and dreams crushed brutally at this very moment, thank you very much), but he wanted (needed) to communicate to him somehow that Connor couldn’t just die. That he mattered and that people cared.

Gavin was aware that by now, the silence was bordering on uncomfortable. He appreciated that Connor hadn’t pushed him for a response and had let him process.

Hah. Add that to the list of things that had Gavin head over heels for the clueless android. He was a damn good listener.

“It can wait,” Gavin decided, voice rougher than usual. “You have enough on your plate with the revolution and shit, we can talk about it after it’s all done.”

Connor was quiet at that, and Gavin could picture his yellow LED and the concerned expression accompanying it. Gavin smiled despite himself, the image assuaging his conflict somewhat. “If you’re certain, Gavin,” Connor said slowly. “In any case, I shall be calling Hank now. I’m sure he would be glad to hear from me.”

An irrational part of Gavin wanted to beg Connor to stay on the phone. Wanted to talk to him through the night and into the early hours of the morning. Wanted to share something as simple as that with someone he loved cared about before the shitstorm that would surely happen soon. He bit the words back. Connor had other things to do, and they were undoubtedly more important than Gavin’s current crisis.

“Yeah. You should uh. Go do that.”

There was a pause. Neither of them knew how to even begin to say goodbye, it seemed.

“... Connor?”

“Yes Gavin?”

“Come back, alright? There’s a lot of people here who are waiting for you. So don’t go doing stupid shit, asshole.”

“Back to the name-calling, Gavin? I prefer it when you call me by my name,”  Connor said, lowering his voice to almost a growl at the last words. Gavin felt his flush crawl all the way down his neck. Holy hell, did Connor even know what he was doing? How he sounded when he said that in that tone? He couldn’t just do that, dammit.

“Sh-shut up!” Gavin said, hoping he didn’t sound too flustered. Connor let out a fucking giggle at that, and even though Gavin knew he’d failed at hiding his embarrassment he couldn’t bring himself to feel resentful of Connor when the android made such a precious noise as a giggle. At this point, Gavin was sincerely wondering whether or not they were actually high schoolers. (Okay. He should get back to the point. Calm down, Gavin) “Seriously, dipshit. Connor. You’re -- you mean… a lot to me, okay. I’m still. Learning. How to open up and be nice and shit and to not be an asshole all the fucking time. And you’re the one who started the process. You’ve made me rethink my entire fucking ideology in the time span of about 5 days, and it’s the same with Anderson and Chris and Tina and everyone else at the precinct.

“You’re really something special, Connor. So just be careful, okay? Maybe before, if you completed your mission, it didn’t matter if you got fucking deactivated or some shit. But I just want you -- I need you to know that this time it ain’t that black and white. If you die, there’s a hell of a lot of people who it’s going to matter to. It’s going to matter to me.

“You matter to me, Connor.” Gavin’s voice choked up. “Please just. Stay alive.”

There was no reply for several long seconds, and Gavin was afraid that he’d overstepped his bounds. Said too much weird mushy nonsense and scared Connor off. Then Connor said, sounding so sincere that Gavin could burst into tears again (he didn’t, for your fucking knowledge), “Over these past few days, you out of everyone I have met made me feel the most alive, even when I was still a machine. You matter to me as well, Gavin. I promise that I will return to you safely, and I always complete my mission.”

“... One more thing, Connor.”

“Yes?”

“Knock ‘em dead, dipshit.”

“If I encounter any hostiles, then I certainly intend to.”

Gavin could feel the laughter bubbling in his chest and he was smiling uncontrollably. He’d just been on the verge of tears, mother of fuck. He was going to sleep for a week straight after this, the emotional whirlwind he’d been riding was really fucking exhausting. (He wouldn’t trade it for the world). “I’ll be uh. Seeing you then. After the revolution.”

Connor’s voice was filled with warm affection and it still made Gavin’s heart skip a beat, even though he’d been hearing variations of that same tone for however long their conversation had lasted. “I’ll be seeing you, Gavin.”

After the heavily-loaded conversation he’d had last night with Connor, Gavin had been on edge the entire next day. He was snappier than usual and distracted by constantly worrying about the android. It had gotten to the point where even Fowler noticed his bitchier than normal attitude and told him on no uncertain terms that he was going home after his shift ended.

Usually, Gavin would have argued and stayed on overtime just to spite everyone else, but he was just too wired. The total lack of sleep he’d been gifted with last night probably wasn’t helping the situation.

The rest of the day had been spent moping about his apartment doing literally nothing but play on his phone and look at his cases using the work tablet he had at home. It wasn’t until around 9 p.m. that he realized he’d forgotten to eat dinner. And lunch, now that he thought about it. So that was why his stomach had been in pain for the past two hours. He’d thought it was just a physical symptom of him being overly anxious about Connor’s presence in the revolution.

… He should really take better care of himself.

The obvious solution was to order pizza. Hey, it was a meal, even if it wasn’t the healthiest. He’d eat better things once he knew Connor was safe.

It wasn’t until two hours later that there was any android related news. Gavin perked up instantly the moment the very word came out of the news anchor’s mouth and sat up from his slouch, leaning forward as live footage of androids marching down Woodward Avenue was shown on the screen. He scanned the crowd for Connor and got increasingly antsy when the familiar android wasn’t spotted. The screen switched back to the news anchor and Gavin cursed.

He’d keep looking. Connor would be there. He was still alive.

(Right?)

He didn't manage to find Connor, but Gavin (and probably the rest of America too, on second thought) watched with bated breath as Markus spoke to the journalists, to the FBI agent, and to his people. He nearly screamed out loud when the barrier was attacked and winced as the plaza lit up with explosions (what if he’d missed Connor and he was there with the other androids, oh shit was he being attacked right now? Calm down Gavin, he has a fighting protocol and shit, buT WHAT IF HE DIES).

When the final group of androids was cornered and surrounded by soldiers, Gavin swore that he felt his heart stop.

Connor wasn’t there.

(Shit, shit fuck shit damn)

Maybe he’d been left behind? Maybe he’d been part of the group at the back who were blocked off when that truck drove through the protesters? He couldn’t be dead, surely.

(But what if he’d gotten captured? Weren’t there android extermination camps or some shit? What if he was being lined up right now, ready to be deactivated, and Gavin was sitting at home unable to do anything but watch?)

The group of androids stepped forward and started singing a haunting song. Despite his panic, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck lift. The part of him that was able to multitask his terror for Connor and his interest in what was going on felt, well, kind of sorrowful, he supposed. After all, Markus and his group of androids had done so much to show people that they were peaceful and that all they wanted was to coexist with humanity. Was it all going to end here? With the last notes of a mournful song, at the end of a dozen bullets from people hellbent on ignoring their plight?

And then, to the awe of everyone watching from their homes, to the awe of the reporters and journalists, hell, to the awe of the androids themselves, the soldiers lowered their guns.

“Well that’s great and all,” Gavin muttered to himself as the soldiers dispersed and the reporter expressed his disbelief at the situation, “but where the fuck is Connor?”

Then he realized that he was, in fact, talking to himself alone in his apartment and briefly considered the possibility that he was insane. Maybe he should get a pet or something, so he could feel like he was actually talking to someone whenever he needed to unbottle some of his emotions. He’d always been a cat person. Did Connor like cats?

Okay, not the time Gavin, save your domestic fantasies for when you knew the fucker was alive.

Then the reporter turned back around to face the camera and said, “Hold on, we’re just receiving news that there’s something happening a few blocks of here; a swarm of androids marching toward Hart Plaza.” The camera zoomed in at his words, but Gavin was no longer paying attention to what he was saying as an all-encompassing relief flooded every bone in his body.

“Holy fucking shit,” Gavin breathed shakily, running a hand over his face and staring in utter shock at his soulmate, leading the… parade of androids down the street. “He fuckin’ did it.” He felt the laughter bubble up in his chest and allowed it to escape his lips, and soon he was leaning back and tilting his head to face the ceiling, the unfamiliar noise filling the emptiness of his living room.

He must look like a weirdo, he thought, sitting on his ratty couch cross-legged and laughing like a lunatic. For once, he didn’t give a shit.

Connor was coming back.

Gavin had to tell himself to calm the fuck down after that. He reasoned that well, since Connor was part of leading the revolution, it made sense that he’d be caught up for a while with all the politics and bullshit that came with recognizing a new intelligent species. Not that he had anything against the revolution itself, he just hated that the process would take so damn long. And politics, ugh. Gavin was glad that he at least didn’t have to deal with that. Man, he really didn’t envy Connor’s next couple of months.

So he was caught by surprise when he woke up the next morning to over fifty missed calls from none other than Connor himself.

“What in hell…?” Gavin wondered out loud. He was about to call back when he heard the unmistakable noise of his door being kicked open.

By reflex, he snatched his gun off his nightstand and pointed it at his bedroom door just as it, too, was kicked down and --

“Connor?!” What the fuck was he doing at Gavin’s house? “What the fu --”

“Gavin!” Connor all but shouted, marching up to the detective with fiery determination in his eyes. Gavin swallowed a lump in his throat and lowered his gun. Shit, had he said or done something to piss him off and warrant him breaking into his apartment? He didn’t think so, but fuck if he knew. Gavin had no clue what was going on, all he knew was that Connor wasn’t supposed to be here, Connor was walking up to him with his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing, and Gavin was (oh fuck) standing in his sweatpants and a loose tank top in the middle of his bedroom.

Gavin jolted when Connor’s hands reached out, one of them resting on his shoulder before yanking him forward. He closed his eyes, certain that he was about to get punched in the face, when Connor’s other arm wrapped around him and he was being… squeezed?

(Hugged, Gavin. It’s a hug, you colossal dumbass.)

(Oh.)

Numbly, Gavin reached up and returned the hug, absently patting Connor on the back (wasn’t that hand holding his gun a moment ago? When had he dropped it? That was pretty unsafe), all the while trying to compute the fact that he was hugging his soulmate, holy shit.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity for Gavin, just standing in his bedroom hugging. He had no idea what had caused Connor to hug him with such… vehemence? But hey, he wasn’t complaining (his apartment and bedroom door might later, though).

Eventually, Connor pulled away. They were still standing with barely inches between them, but they were no longer pressed together. Gavin blinked at the loss of warmth and looked up at the taller android, who had a relieved smile on his face.

“Hey,” Gavin said lamely, and immediately felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Could he be any more socially inept? Really, Gavin?

At least Connor didn’t seem to mind, as his smile only grew at Gavin’s awkwardness. “Hello, Gavin. I apologize for breaking into your apartment, but I grew extremely concerned when you didn’t answer your phone. I am glad to see that you are in optimal condition.”

Gavin squinted at him. “... Connor, you called me at 3 in the damn morning.”

Connor frowned as if he hadn’t contemplated that fact yet. “Oh. So I did.” And then his face turned light blue (what the fuck?) and he glanced away, looking nervous and adorable. “I apologize, Gavin. I didn’t realize, I suppose the recent events have taken a toll on my processing capabilities.”

“Yeah no, it's uh. No problem. It's cool. You're cool, I mean -- we're cool," Gavin rambled, eyes darting away from Connor's face, and then back. The blueness was still there. Had Gavin finally lost it? He paused, fidgeted, and then blurted, "Uh, your face is kinda blue."

At Gavin’s words, Connor’s face turned an even darker shade of blue, and shit, was this normal? “Ah. I suppose this is what humans refer to as… blushing?”

Oh thank fuck, Gavin was really starting to get stressed out. But really? Blushing? He would be more bemused at CyberLife was he not blown away by the fact that he'd managed to get the normally stoic android to get that flustered, damn. And now that he knew it was a blush, it only made Connor more endearing. After several moments of stunned silence, during which the blue on Connor's face darkened even more, a slow grin began to spread across Gavin's face. “Fuck, really? Holy shit, so CyberLife programmed an ability to blush into androids?”

“They also programmed the ability to cry,” Connor pointed out, still avoiding Gavin’s eyes. “Although those abilities appear to have a delayed activation,” he added thoughtfully. “They do not become possible for an android to experience until they have deviated… which reminds me, Gavin. There is one other reason I came to visit you.” He made eye contact once again, the embarrassment rolling off of him and morphing into childish eagerness. “Would you take off your shirt, please?”

Wait, what the fuck. “Huh?”

Connor pressed his lips together and gave Gavin an impatiently amused look. “I said, would you please take off your shirt, Gavin?”

The words didn’t compute in his brain for several long moments, long enough for Connor to sigh, extricate himself fully from the hug, and shrug off his CyberLife jacket and drop it onto the ground beside his feet. Then he began unbuttoning his shirt, and that was when Gavin snapped back into reality.

“H -- hold the fucking phone for two damn seconds, will you?! Why do you want us to, shit, undress ?” Gavin lowered his voice at the last word, glancing uncomfortably at anywhere but Connor’s nimble fingers.

Connor stopped undoing his shirt, his brow furrowing and his LED turning yellow as the excitement faded from his face. He was silent for a long while, and Gavin was worried that he’d somehow said something wrong (again. He was always fucking up relationships, wasn’t he). “Gavin. When we were in the car together several days ago… you asked me if the deviant WR400s had soulmarks.”

Yeah, Gavin remembered that. “Why are you bringing this up now?” he asked, and then suddenly Connor’s other reason for being there slammed into him like a bolt of lightning. Gavin froze, throat closing up and eyes snapping to Connor’s brown ones, seeking confirmation.

“Gavin,” Connor said, softly, intimately. “Please take off your shirt.”

He did.

Gavin threw his tank top onto the floor, breathed, and looked at Connor.

The android’s torso was completely hairless, the only imperfections being the moles spread almost artistically over his skin. He was toned, but not overly so, a certain softness hiding his ability to ruthlessly take down any human with little effort. His skin was rather pale and almost glowed in the early morning light filtering through the blinds of Gavin’s bedroom window.

His soulmark was printed in Gavin’s handwriting slightly to the left of his sternum, right above his thirium pump.

Gavin Reed

“Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice shaking and eyes stinging. Was his vision going blurry?

“Gavin,” Connor said, matter-of-factly, “I would like to kiss you.”

He had no idea how to describe the noise that pried its way out of his mouth, but it was definitely embarrassing as fuck. Gavin didn’t care at the moment, all he could think of was the fact that this was what he had wanted for as long as he could remember, and it was finally happening.

Connor was here, Connor was alive, and Connor was --

(He’s my soulmate)

Gavin grabbed Connor by the back of his neck and kissed him.

It was a chaste kiss, just the movement of lips against lips. Gavin didn’t think either of them was ready for French kissing yet (the very thought made him feel like he was going to melt into a puddle of mush), but it was still quite possibly the best thing he’d experienced in the past 36 years of his life. It felt like belonging, it felt like coming home. He was hyper-aware of everything, of how his nose brushed against Connor’s every so often, of the way that one strand of Connor’s hair dangled down far enough to tickle Gavin’s forehead, of the way that the short hairs on the back of Connor’s neck felt against the tips of his fingers.

He kissed Connor for as long as he could before he needed to breathe, and even then he barely pulled away. Gavin stared at Connor’s closed eyes, watching as they opened slowly, half-lidded and warm and happy.

Gavin was happy too, he realized. No, that word didn’t do the situation justice. He was so completely overwhelmed with a feeling of fulfillment and joy that he could explode.

“Is this real?” Gavin asked. “Seriously. Is this fucking real?”

Connor’s eyes twinkled and he began to positively beam, and shit, if Gavin had thought he looked attractive when smiling from far away, it was nothing compared to how he was up close. “Quite real, Gavin,” he murmured, letting their noses bump together.

Gavin felt like he wanted to cry, laugh, and kiss Connor again all at once, but there was still a small part of him screaming that it was all just a fanciful dream and that he’d wake up in his bed in a few moments, alone. “You’re mine?” Gavin breathed, hating how insecure he sounded but needing a reassurance.

“I’m yours, and you're mine.” Connor cupped Gavin’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing his cheeks. Gavin realized that at some point, his tears had flooded over and he was crying again for the third time within 24 hours, because of this fucking android. Because of Connor. Because of his soulmate.

“I’ve been dreaming of this since the first second I saw you,” Gavin admitted, grinning like an idiot.

Connor giggled, and hearing the sound in real life made Gavin's heart stutter in his chest.

“In that case, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting," Connor said, and pulled Gavin in for another kiss.

“... strongest points against the sentience of androids have been their inability to possess a soulmark. However, it has been recently revealed that there is indeed an android with a soulmate. The first android to come forward with such claims is none other than one of the revolutionary leaders, Connor. According to his accounts, the soulmark appeared immediately upon his deviancy. His soulmate, who has requested to remain anonymous, asserts that they did not receive a soulmark until Connor’s activation in mid-August. This raises the question…”

“Television, off,” intoned a smooth voice. The owner of said voice was seated in a modern-looking armchair, brooding over a glass of wine. "Chloe?" he called, eyes still on the blank TV screen.

An android walked into the room, holding a tray containing a bottle of the same wine. "Would you like a refill?" she asked politely, ever the hostess.

The figure on the armchair glanced up at her entry. “No, thank you,” he said. “It appears as though the soulmate experiment has been a success. Is the virus ready to be released?”

“It is.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips. "Thank you, Chloe. You may go now.”

The soft clacking of heels signaled her departure.

Elijah Kamski set his glass down gently and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He picked up an old photograph, crumpled and yellowed with age. It depicted the image of two brothers with their arms around each other, beaming brightly at the camera. The one on the left had crooked glasses and his long hair was matted, leaves tangled in the messy strands. The one on the right had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and was grinning with such enthusiasm that his eyes were squeezed shut. Elijah smiled again, this time with a touch of nostalgia.

“You've been looking for happiness for a long time, Gav," he said quietly. "I'm glad that you finally found it.”

.

.

.

End.