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“Lieutenant! Look! Mistletoe!” Connor said excitedly, grabbing it off the shelf. He threw it into the cart along with the new artificial tree, some Christmas lights, and ornament boxes along with a star for the tree topper. Usually, Hank owned all of these things, but he threw them out a few years after Cole died because there was no need for them. Closet space, he said as he took the tree to the dump.
An eyebrow raised, Hank looked at the mistletoe and then back at Connor. “Connor, don’t you know what mistletoe means?”
“Of course I do, Lieutenant. According to a quick search, Mistletoe is a plant that grows on a range of trees including willow, apple and oak trees. The tradition of hanging-”
“No, no! Not.. whatever the internet is telling you. I mean, whenever two people get under it.” Hank felt a red blush creeping up his neck, purposely avoiding eye contact with Connor as he hurriedly put some eggnog in the shopping cart. Lord knows he was going to need it.
“I’m not sure I understand, Lieutenant.” Connor scanned the cart and went through it, trying to see if they needed anything else.
“I -- nevermind, Connor. We can get the mistletoe, it doesn’t matter.” Sighing, Hank pushed the cart to one of the lines to check-out after Connor decided they had enough. It was only some measly mistletoe, what could go wrong?
+ - - +
Hank watched Connor start putting up lights while he put up the tree. Watching Connor struggle to hang the lights up on the house was adorable if Hank was being honest. His mid-riff showing as his shirt pulled up a bit made Hank turn back to his task at hand.
It had been about 3 months since the revolution and Connor moving in with him. 3 more months of them getting used to each other and how things were now. 6 months of.. Whatever this was.
Hank knew he felt something more than friendship for Connor. He had come to terms with that. It was the stress of telling Connor.
Connor had freedom now. He was cute enough, maybe on the twink-ish side if he even swung that way. On the twink-ish side even if he didn’t swing that way. Connor could most likely have anyone he wanted. Why would he settle for some washed-up, sick, old man like Hank? On top of all that, he had baggage, too. Baggage which almost caused him to make Connor miss out on Christmas.
“Lieutenant!”
Hank was pulled out of his thoughts by hearing his title, turning to face Connor. Although looking winded (could androids get winded?), he had an accomplished smile on his face. It made Hank turn a little pink, seeing Connor all happy like that.
“It’s Hank, Connor. Yeah?”
“Where would you like me to hang the mistletoe?” Connor was holding the mistletoe by the little ribbon attached to it, waiting for Hank’s response.
“I don’t care. Maybe in the kitchen?” Hank turned back to put the ornament on the tree, listening to Connor’s footsteps as to what he presumed was hanging the mistletoe.
Sumo came bounding up to Hank, nudging his legs. Sumo laid there expectantly, waiting for belly rubs.
“Heh. I guess I can take a little break.” Hank rubbed Sumo’s belly and looked back up, only to be greeted with the sight of Connor struggling to hang the mistletoe up.
“Connor! Here, let me help.” Hank, leaving a confused and disappointed Sumo laying on the floor, walked over to Connor and grabbed the mistletoe. He swiftly, although maybe a little ungracefully, hung the mistletoe up on the ceiling right in the area between the kitchen and the living room.
“Thank you, Hank.” Connor grinned and Hank felt his heart stutter.
“Yeah, it was no problem --”
Cut off by a kiss to his cheek, Hank paused. Connor walked away and starting sifting through the rest of the bags, moving to put the eggnog into the refrigerator.
Fully red in the face, Hank was lost for words. He cleared his throat and regained some of his composure. “What was that for?”
Connor raised an eyebrow while looking at Hank. “We were under the mistletoe,” Hank swore he heard a tint of smugness in Connor’s voice when he said that. Not that Hank was one to complain.
“I -- yeah, I guess we were.” Hank sat on the couch and flicked on the TV with the remote, having Sumo land with a boof right at his feet.
Maybe Hank didn’t have to dance around his feelings for Connor after all.