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Come In Closer

Summary:

After Connor and Hank share their first kiss, the pair take a walk the next day and figure out how to proceed further.

Notes:

While familiarity with the first part of the series (One Too Many) helps, this can be read as a standalone story.

Work Text:

“Come In Closer”

Part 2 of Connor’s First

“Hank?” The man in the bed grunted, settling deeper underneath the covers. Connor leaned closer, entering analytical mode, the world becoming mere lines of data waiting to be traveled. Within the space of a second, he knew Hank’s heart rate was too active for an unconscious state, which meant he was awake and ignoring Connor on purpose.

“Hank?” No response.

Looking down at his side, where Sumo sat on the floor obediently, Connor motioned with his head towards the bed. “Attack,” he said quietly. Sumo leaped onto the bed, flopping onto Hank’s face, happily wagging his tail while Hank groaned loudly, struggling to breathe past several pounds of furred muscle.

When he finally wrestled Sumo onto the other side of the bed, Hank sat up, holding a hand to his forehead, features creased in pain. He stared at Connor for a long moment, and then his eyes narrowed in irritation.

“It’s not fair using my own dog against me.”

“He’s a lot more obedient than a certain someone.” Connor was about to offer a pain reliever for Hank’s obvious hangover when he held out a hand towards Connor, who glanced at it in confusion. “Yes?”

“Just grab it, why don’t you?” Slowly, Connor put his left hand on Hank’s. Taking a firm grip, Hank yanked him onto the bed. Underneath the darkness of the covers, Hank pulled him close, his chin coming to rest against the back of Connor’s shoulder.

Hank snaked an arm under Connor’s neck and over his waist, his breath lacing the back of Connor’s ear. “That’s better,” he muttered. “It’s too goddamn early.”

“It’s only 9 AM,” replied Connor patiently, failing to see why the current time was a problem. The earlier one got up, the more tasks they could get done. Perhaps efficiency, outside of work affairs, simply didn’t exist in Hank’s mind.

“On a Saturday when there’s no work to get up for.” There was a brief pause. “…Connor, can you sleep?”

“I can enter a state of rest, yes. It doesn’t serve the same function as human sleep, though.” Connor had never been tired in his life and preferred to stay active most of the time.  

“Close enough,” Hank said, yawning loudly at the end of his words. “Do that for me, will you? For at least another hour.” 

“If you wish.” The steady rhythm of Hank’s heart pulsed through Connor’s back. It gradually slowed after a few minutes. Despite having been dragged into the bed unexpectedly, Connor found the experience rather pleasant. A small part of him was relieved Hank hadn’t entirely dismissed the events of last evening as a drunken mistake, reaching out for Connor with no hesitation.

Heavy weight bounced against the end of the bed, Sumo joining them in their catnap. The dog scooted further up the bed until his head rested next to Connor’s foot.

Smiling lightly, Connor shut his eyes and, true to his word, began putting the various systems that comprised his being on standby. The coiled tension in his limbs eased, and Connor’s head sank deeper into the pillow, everything going dark within a matter of seconds.

 

“What do you think, Sumo? Dead or alive?” Hank’s voice was tinny, seeming to come from far away. Connor reactivated himself, blinking up at Hank calmly. He was leaning on an elbow next to him, looking down on Connor. One moment of recalibration, and he was fully operational once again.

“Hello, Hank.”  

Hank shook his head. “That’s just not right. Dead to the world one second, then perky and chipper the next. Morning people are positively inhuman.”  

Recognizing the comment as teasing by Hank’s relaxed body language, Connor smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He sat up, moving to the side of the bed and getting to his feet, stopping beside it as he glanced back. “Hank?”

“Mmm?” Hank made no move to get out of the bed yet, Connor suspecting he would’ve still been asleep had Connor not attempted to wake him earlier.

Connor hesitated for a few seconds before he decided to make the suggestion. The worse Hank could do was say no. It was a 50-50 chance. “If you’re up for it, I thought we could go for a walk later on. Get Sumo some exercise.”

“…A walk?” Hank looked at Connor incredulously as if he had suggested there were sharks living in the Great Lakes.

“Yes, Hank, a walk. It’s where you go outside, put one foot in front of the other, and move around for fun.” In case he’d forgotten the meaning of the word.

Hank raised an eyebrow and then started to move off the bed. “You know, Connor, you keep throwing around all that sarcasm, I might start to regret letting you stay here,” he grumbled, trooping into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Connor leaned over Sumo, who was laid out on the covers, his head resting on his paws. He scratched behind one of Sumo’s ears, silently thanking him for his help earlier.

“Good dog.” Sumo raised his head and wagged his tail, tongue rolling out of his mouth. “Let’s get you fed, shall we?”      

   

While Hank took a shower to get ready for the day, Connor began to address the contents of the bags he’d had delivered to the house. He pushed the various takeout containers that no doubt contained leftover junk food to the back of the fridge, then put away the groceries in short order. Proper nutrition dictated a steady diet of healthy food groups such as vegetables, legumes, and so forth, which was exactly what Connor had ordered.

The refrigerator full, Connor turned to his next task: cooking. It wasn’t a function he possessed in his core programming, but further study on the subject proved it was merely a matter of following precise instructions. Not too long ago, that had been Connor’s entire world.

Grateful for the change in his circumstances, he picked one of the recipes he’d downloaded and got to work. A sense of relaxation came over Connor as he began to chop up the various ingredients for a turkey and egg casserole. Step after step until it was a complete dish that just had to be baked. He placed it into the oven and went to the sink to wash his hands.

 “What is all this?”

Connor looked over his shoulder, Hank standing outside of the kitchen, eyes locked on the stack of empty brown paper bags folded upon the table. “Exactly what it looks like. You have a very unbalanced diet. I would like to rectify that if I may.”

Hank heaved a heavy breath. “Okay, it’s official. I do regret letting you stay here.”

“Why?” Connor asked. “Until an accord is made about android equality and I can resume my previous duty in an official capacity, heavily modified, of course, I will be more than happy to improve the quality of your life.”

“That, Connor, is the problem,” Hank replied as he sat down at the table. “I like being unhealthy. I’m good at it.”

“Talented or not, such bad habits will catch up to you sooner or later.”

“That was the plan,” Hank said, scratching at his chin. The skin underneath looked smooth, indicating he’d shaved in the bathroom.

Connor frowned as he turned back to the table. “I noticed you referred to such a tactic in the past tense. Have you given it up?”

Hank’s somber gaze silently met Connor’s for a long moment before he spoke. “For now.”  

While it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, Connor appreciated Hank’s effort regardless. Considering his past, Connor knew trying to improve himself would be difficult. But Hank had proved he could change. Otherwise, Connor wouldn’t be here.

Before too long, the scent of the baking casserole filled the kitchen, Hank keeping an eye on the oven as he drank a cup of coffee. “Have you ever cooked before?”

Connor shook his head. “I’ve never needed to before now. It’s fun, though.” He pulled the dish out when it was done, the edges a perfect golden brown. 

“I’m a guinea pig, huh? Okay, lay on it on me then,” Hank said with a long-suffering sigh, looking skeptical upon being presented with a slice of the turkey and egg casserole. Nevertheless, he gamely tried it.

Hank chewed in silence before saying, “I suppose this isn’t terrible.” He stuck another forkful of the casserole into his mouth. Soon he’d finished it, handing the empty plate over to Connor. “How’d you get the groceries anyway? I didn’t hear the doorbell.”

Connor leaned against the edge of the counter after placing the plate in the sink. “I had them delivered earlier this morning.”

“With what funds?”

“Before I was sent to work with you on the deviant case, CyberLife afforded me what you might call an allowance. To cover any expenses I would encounter. When I turned my back on them, I retained access to the funds but restricted any further access to anyone but me.”

Hank started laughing, looking at Connor with an appraising look. “Man, when you go deviant, you really go deviant. How much did you take the bastards for?” He fell silent for a bit when Connor told him the exact amount. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious, Hank.” Humor wasn’t an avenue he’d investigated yet. Connor already had trouble correctly interpreting societal cues without adding jokes to the mix.

Hank shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah, never heard you crack a joke once. …Well, shit, that changes things.”

Connor looked at Hank with interest. “How so?”

“For one, I don’t have to worry about buying you anything. Second, you could stand to spread some of the generosity around. Maybe I could get some top-shelf liquor for once.”

“Hank,” Connor said calmly. “If you could drink in moderation, I would have little problem with the idea.”

Raising a hand as if physically dismissing the idea, Hank sighed loudly, looking slightly annoyed. “Can’t blame a man for dreaming.”

“I suppose not.”


Hank stirred as they were turning onto the bridge, slowly sitting up in the passenger seat. He looked out the window, raising a hand as a spear of sunlight fell across his face. Recognition dawned on him, and he turned to Connor. “This is MacArthur Bridge.”

Connor nodded. “Yes, it is. It seemed a shame to visit a small park when we could go to one that affords us the most promising venue.” Sumo barked from the back seat as if agreeing with the line of reasoning.

Hank peered back towards Sumo, meeting his dark eyes warningly.  “You stay out of this.”

The automated entry booth came up, Connor only looking at it once, his LED flashing, then they passed through, driving until they reached the parking lot. As Connor stepped out of the car, he was struck by the splendor of Belle Isle. It was surrounded by water on all sides with a stunning view of Detroit’s skyline as well as a tantalizing glimpse of Canada across the way.

Vast open fields looked inviting, the walkways white. Hank looked up at the partly cloudy sky, frowning, the park’s beauty lost on him. “Terrible weather.”

Connor let Sumo out of the car, clipping a leash onto his collar. The big dog bounded forward, yanking Connor’s arm roughly before he dug his heels in, stopping Sumo’s progress. “I wouldn't say that. Yes, it’s overcast and 55 degrees, but there’s only a 10% chance of snow. However, you and Sumo are adequately protected from the elements, should they turn unfavorable.”

The look Hank shot him was half-full of concern. “What about you?”

Connor chuckled, inwardly pleased Hank was worried about him. “I have a self-regulating system that prevents me from getting too cold or hot. Unless we encounter sub-zero temperatures for an extended period of time, which is highly unlikely, I will be fine.”

“Yeah, well, indulge me and grab a jacket from the trunk anyway.”

“Very well, Hank.” He handed the leash over and slipped on the leather jacket he found in a dark corner of the trunk, turning to Hank, who nodded in approval. Walking toward the start of a path, Sumo took the lead, his head moving back and forth as he took in the new environment.

Even with half the ground covered in snow, Connor appreciated the simple beauty of the park. There weren’t too many other people around, likely due to the adverse weather. Though he would never mention it to Hank, despite the new laws in place to protect androids, many humans still kept a wide berth from him, uneasy around Connor. Not having to adopt a facade and silently tolerate it was a welcome relief.

He was only able to remain at the police department because Hank had an in with Captain Fowler, having kicked up enough of a fuss that no one wanted to piss off Hank further by saying no to having Connor as a partner. True equality for his kind was still being fought for in the hallways of the capital, a slow progressive march that would eventually yield results, but only after every detail had been pounded out.

Maybe at first, Hank had regarded Connor as a means to an end, a prettied-up machine going through the motions, but he’d looked beneath the surface, believing the best of Connor, seeing his inner potential. Even when he was still a slave to his internal programming. All the organic mechanical parts, his mind, and the capability to connect with the technology around him were just extras as far as Hank was concerned.   

Just as Connor’s views had softened towards deviants, so had Hank’s, and his silent support had been the deciding factor in finally going rogue. As a result, he appreciated every moment he had with his partner because he never treated Connor as anything less than human. Now he couldn’t imagine his life without Hank. It was a sobering thought and part of the reason why he wanted to improve Hank’s diet. 

“What the hell are you thinking about? Your LED is going crazy.” Connor smoothly slipped out of his reverie, flashing Hank a quick smile. They were passing a large fountain, intricate stone lion statues adorning each corner.

“I was reviewing the park’s history,” he said, doing exactly that, so he wasn’t lying. “It was officially turned into a state park in 2014, revitalized by the city to its former glory.”

“I vaguely remember that. Truth be told, I haven’t been here in years. Not since my parents took me as a kid.”

Connor furtively scanned Hank, expertly picturing him at a younger age. “You must have been very cute.”

Hank snorted as Sumo stopped to sniff at a tree. “I don’t know about that. I was a bit of a hellion, always kept my parents on their toes.”

Connor could have easily looked up details about the subject in an instant but chose not to. If Hank wanted him to know, he’d tell Connor straight out. That was one of his better qualities. Not mincing words and always telling it like it was. Whether you liked it or not.

As a comfortable silence fell between them, Connor let his mind wander, simply enjoying the scenery and company. Before Hank had come into his life, the world had been defined by the borders of his programming. Now it was infinite and full of promise. All thanks to the man by his side.

 

They’d done almost a full round of the park when Hank asked, “How old are you, Connor?”

“I was born in August of this year.”

Reluctance and worry crossed Hank’s features, his hand tightening on Sumo’s leash. “Not even a year old, huh?”

“The accumulated knowledge inside my memory banks far exceeds your own life experience, Hank, which would make me older than you despite my date of birth.” His developers had seen fit to make Connor adaptable to nearly any circumstance, their input during his development priceless knowledge he’d drawn on countless times.   

Hank pushed at Connor’s shoulder semi-roughly. “Little smart-ass. Fine, you’ve made your point. I suppose age is nothing but a number then.” Looking around, Hank pointed out a nearby bench that was clear of any snow. “Let’s take a short break.” 

Upon taking a seat, Hank laid his arm on the back of the bench, watching a couple pass them by. He cleared his throat, looking off into the distance. Sumo sat on the ground before them, getting some much-needed rest. “We didn’t talk about it this morning, but…”

“Yes?” There was a tinge of red high up on Hank’s cheeks, his heart rate faintly elevated. 

“Last night, I didn't mean to push you.” The earnest tone in his voice made Connor smile, touched by Hank’s concern about his well-being.

“I didn’t mind. It was a very interesting, if rather intense, experience.” One that Connor wanted to explore more, if possible. Loss of control wasn’t something he experienced often, and there was no one he trusted more in the world than Hank.

Hank studied him closely. “Have you ever thought about that stuff before?”

“Yes,” Connor said. “But then, I’ve always been intrigued by all facets of the human condition.”

“So if I told you I wanted to go further, you wouldn’t be opposed to it?” Hank seemed a bit incredulous at Connor's blasé attitude on the subject, but it wasn't like he was ignorant of intimate goings-on. It just hadn’t been a function he’d bothered indulging, being so focused on achieving his primary directive from CyberLife.

“Of course not. I rely on your expertise for a great many things. Entrusting my body to you is only natural,” Connor said simply, noting Hank’s quick grin and slightly shaking shoulders as he laughed.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh. “Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be in this type of situation. I mean, you know my opinion about people opting for androids over other people. Yet somehow, when I wasn't looking, you went from friend and partner to something more. I feel like a bit of a hypocrite.”

Hank shrugged. “I suppose it doesn't matter now that androids are considered people too,” he said. “You’re Connor and nothing else.”

Startled to feel wetness grow in his eyes, his chest tight for some reason, Connor raised a hand as it overflowed down his cheek, touching its path. He stared at the clear drop of water on his fingertip. “I'm not sad, but…”

Hank pulled his arm down from the edge of the bench and tugged Connor to his side, roughly hugging him.  “It's fine. This is good too.” Connor nodded as he sniffed, his head resting against Hank’s shoulder. Sumo stood up and walked over, nudging Connor's hands as well, whining lowly. Between both of their comforting touches, it wasn’t long before he’d collected himself again.

                                        

When they resumed walking, Connor looked down at Hank’s hand as it swung back and forth next to him. He thought back to the feel of it on his cheek the previous night, how warm and soft it had been. Hank’s gaze swept back to him, and he looked curious as he took in Connor’s focused state.

“What?”

“Do you mind if I touch you for a moment?” Hank looked confused but nevertheless nodded. Connor stepped closer and slowly ran his hand down Hank’s arm, unfurling his fingers. As it neared Hank’s left hand, he pushed through the openings between the digits and enclosed Hank’s left hand in his right, squeezing slightly.

It was a simple tactile touch, low on the level of human intimacy, but Connor could feel a smile pull his lips as he reveled in the action. When he glanced up at Hank, Connor was surprised to see he was bright red. “Are you all right, Hank? You seem to be having an abnormal reaction.”

Hank lightly groaned as he looked skyward for a moment. “Are you done with your little experiment yet?”

Connor tilted his head, puzzled by Hank’s reluctance. “I’m quite enjoying it.” He looked down at their entwined hands, internal sensors flickering nosily. “There’s an odd fluttering in the pit of my stomach, though. Is that normal?”

The expression on Hank’s face was conflicted, seeming both happy and anxious at once. Connor carefully pulled him and Sumo to a stop, then turned to face Hank, their hands still intertwined. He leaned upwards, pressing his mouth to Hank’s, the pleasant shock he’d experienced last night returning in force, his whole body at rapt attention.

He’d just considered deepening the kiss when Hank touched his shoulder, pushing Connor back. He glanced about the park worriedly, relaxing after a few seconds. Hank rubbed the back of his neck, sighing.

“You’re killing me here, Connor. This innocent act has to stop.”  

“I’m not acting,” he said. Manipulation of other people and playing different roles as needed was a skill set ingrained in his programming, but Connor preferred not to employ it. He preferred honesty overall.

“I know,” Hank replied. “That’s the problem.” He squeezed Connor’s hand briefly before dropping it, kneeling beside Sumo and ruffling the top of the dog’s head.

While watching Hank bond with his pet was always nice to see, Connor wished Hank didn’t have to be so careful with him. “I don’t mean to cause trouble for you.”

Hank looked back at him, shaking his head. “You’re not. It’s me who’s the troublesome one.”

Connor smiled. “As always.”

“You got that right.”

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