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"I fuckin’ hate funerals," Hank complained as he squeezed into the jacket of his dress uniform.
Connor knotted Hank’s tie for him before helping him button the jacket, looking into his tired, sad eyes that seemed to plead with Connor's for some kind of excuse, a way out of a situation he didn't want to face. Connor planted a soft kiss on Hank's cheek, his chin brushing against Hank's beard and firing up his touch sensors.
“We’ll get through this,” Connor said. “I’ll be right next to you.”
“I know, Connor. We shouldn't have to do this, though. Chris was too young to die.” Hank sucked in a breath and pulled Connor into his arms. Connor wrapped his arms around Hank’s large frame, tracing circles on his back. He knew the words Hank left unspoken, his regrets at letting Gavin and Nines go. His guilt at those regrets, that he’d been willing to let an android killer slip out the back door, but the moment Gavin became a cop killer, he was ripe to be taken in.
Connor knew it wasn’t like that, though. Hank was angry because Gavin had killed a mutual friend. It was the ultimate breach of trust, the severance of whatever kinship had once bound them together as police officers, even if they’d never been friends. Gavin had passed the point of no return. There could be no redemption for someone who'd turned on their own as he had. If Chris had lived, perhaps letting Gavin go would have been justifiable, but the murder of a friend wasn't something that could ever be washed away.
That and funerals reminded Hank of Cole. It hadn’t taken Connor’s social integration program or the nuances of human social etiquette he'd learned since deviating to know that.
Connor took Hank’s hand in his. “We should leave now if we’re going to make it on time.” He led Hank to the front door, thinking about the whiskey he’d purchased as a gift for Hank. He’d been hoping to give it to him on a happier occasion, but tonight Hank was going to get drunk with Connor’s blessing.
He’d do it anyway, so better Connor support him in his attempts to abandon sobriety than for them to argue about it at an already tense and difficult moment. One more alcoholic binge wasn't going to damage Hank's liver any more than he already had in the years between Cole's death and Connor's entrance into his life.
Connor wished there was a way he could forget the pain of losing a fellow officer that didn’t involve erasing his memories of Chris entirely. Grief was a new experience for him, and he was having a hard time coming to terms with the thought that he would never see Chris again. His empty desk at the station had left Connor with a disquieted sensation, and he felt so alone with this new pain. He couldn't ask Hank about death, not with the specter of Cole haunting him daily, so he had to carry it alone.
It was like walking in the zen garden with nobody home—an isolating, unpleasant experience, a silence so intense that it was deafening.
***
Heavy rain drowned Chris’s funeral. Connor stood next to Hank holding an umbrella over their heads as Chris was laid to rest. Connor had linked his arm with Hank’s, and for once nobody gave them odd looks. Those who didn’t know about their relationship could have passed them off as friends if it wasn’t for the fact that Connor rested his head on Hank's shoulder halfway through the service, leaning into him and closing his eyes for a moment in a way only lovers would. Connor wanted to kiss Hank, but he didn’t want his partner to feel uncomfortable, so he kept the umbrella steady, lifted his head, and tried not to watch Chris’s widow as she cried quiet, dignified tears for her husband.
Connor had tried his best. He knew there was nothing he could have done to reach Chris faster, and yet he kept thinking about how distracted he’d been that night. He’d calculated various odds, trying to make sense of how he’d missed the explosives. He’d reconstructed the scenario a dozen times, trying to analyze what he might have done wrong.
He knew it was useless. After all, the odds had been in favor of Chris’s survival, but the young father now lay in a coffin, his baby set to grow up without him. The world wasn’t fair for humans or androids. Life itself wasn’t right or just, the universe dividing parents and children on opposite sides of an uncrossable veil. He squeezed Hank's arm, wishing he could offer more comfort to his partner.
After the service, Connor sensed the tension in Hank's stance and knew he wanted to leave. Hank needed to be alone, to process his grief by drowning his sorrows. Connor knew he felt too much, and needed to shut it off for a while. He sent Hank back to the car and offered his condolences to Chris's widow before making a hasty retreat from the rain and the tears that threatened to fall with it.
***
Hank took off his jacket, pulled off his tie, unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt and slumped at the kitchen table as soon as they were home. Connor went directly to the cupboard where he’d hidden his gift and set the bottle of whiskey on the table before Hank could reach for his usual bottle of cheap liquor.
“Hey, Connor, where’d you get this?” Hank asked.
“I bought it for you as a gift. I was hoping to give it to you under happier circumstances, but I know you could use some relief tonight. My only regret is that I can’t drink it with you.”
“Guess you have to feel everythin’, huh? No forgetting for androids. That’s gotta be tough.” Hank petted Connor’s hair as he knelt at his feet. “Thanks for this. I thought I was gonna get a lecture about drinking too much tonight, but I have to take the edge off.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting to forget,” Connor said. “I have been reconstructing the scene, trying to run the odds and see what I could have done differently that might have saved Chris's life.”
“That’s what I do every day of my life. I see that truck skidding in my dreams, yet no matter how many times I imagine myself steering my car out of its path, I wake to find nothing changed.” Hank reached down and stroked Connor's hair. “You can’t change the past. You have to learn to live with it.” Hank opened the whiskey, pouring himself a glass. “Good stuff. Wasted on gettin’ shitfaced.” He downed the shot and poured another. He drank slower this time, sipping at it. “Doesn’t really seem fair to drink myself into oblivion when you can’t.”
“One of us needs to stay sober.” Connor smiled, resting his head in Hank’s lap. “Besides, I enjoy taking care of you, Lieutenant.”
Hank smiled, that wry grin that revealed his front teeth. Connor was so happy when he could draw smiles out of Hank just by loving him.
“You’re so special to me,” Hank said. “Thanks for bein’ there today.” He pulled Connor up onto his lap, and Connor wondered if they were going to break the chair with their combined weight. Hank rubbed Connor’s inner thigh through his dress pants. “You look good in dress uniform. Actually, you look good in anything. Or nothin’ at all.”
“Lieutenant, you’re drunk.”
“I just started drinkin', sheesh. Can’t you check my blood alcohol level with those sensors of yours?”
Connor could, and he did, and was surprised to find Hank was telling the truth.
“I think I’m done drinking for the night, anyway. Drowning your sorrows only works when you're drinkin' alone.” Hank finished his whiskey and pushed the glass away. Connor went back to kneeling on the floor, more than a little aroused. Hank might not be drunk, but the liquor had definitely loosened his inhibitions. Hank stood up and walked into the living room. Connor removed his jacket before following him and kneeling by the couch.
“Come sit next to me,” Hank said. Connor climbed up on the couch and lay next to Hank. It was nice just to be held like this, to cuddle after such a long and difficult day.
“You know what hurts the most?” Hank asked. “I took Chris under my wing and showed him the ropes, but Gavin was the one who became his friend. Dunno what he saw in that prick, but Chris trusted him, and Gavin killed him for it.”
“Gavin couldn’t have known Chris would be caught in the explosion,” Connor pointed out.
“Gavin set a trap for us, true, but he knew other DPD officers would be attending the scene. He just didn’t care. He was so caught up in gettin’ revenge that he murdered a man who trusted him to get to us. A man with a newborn child, for God’s sake. If I’d known he was capable of such a thing, I’d have put a bullet in his head when he tried to kill you during the Internal Affairs fiasco.”
Connor recalled the hostage negotiation that had ended in him being held at gunpoint by Gavin and Captain Allen. Hank had been the only thing stopping Connor from being used as target practice.
“That wasn’t the first time. Gavin tried to kill me during the deviant investigation, when you bought me time to enter the evidence room. If he’d killed me there, I might never have gone to Jericho and accepted my deviancy.”
“You’re just makin’ me hate him more,” Hank explained.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s all right.” Hank sighed. “I wonder if that’s why Nines went deviant. Being forced to kill for a lunatic.”
“Somehow, I doubt it,” Connor observed. “Even though Nines had deviated, he seemed to display a certain loyalty to Gavin back at the warehouse.”
“If they know what’s good for them, they’ll get the fuck outta this city. If I ever see them again—" Hank sighed. “I won’t hesitate to kill Nines because he’s an android, Connor. I need you to know that.”
“It’s all right, Lieutenant. I understand.” Connor closed his eyes, clasping his hand together with Hank’s. “I’m a police officer as well as an android. Gavin and Nines are murderers. Not to mention the explosives they packed into my body. They wouldn't have hesitated to kill me if you hadn't stepped in."
Hank kissed his hair and Connor knew they weren’t going to cuddle for long. Traces of whiskey were still on his tongue and Connor analyzed the sample. He noted with disapproval that it wasn’t the 1985 vintage he’d paid for, but Hank was proving far too much of a distraction for him to care. He could file a complaint with the online vendor later, once Hank had let him come and fallen asleep.
Hank was generous with his kisses, sucking on Connor’s throat above his collar. Just the briefest touch from Hank sent him wild any more, the perfect memories of so many precious moments a promise of incredible things to come.
“Let’s go to the bedroom.” Hank stood up and led the way, a little unsteady on his feet. “I just want to forget everything.”
“I’d be delighted to help with that,” Connor said, dropping to his knees on the bedroom floor.
“I just wanna feel something good.” Hank unzipped his fly, letting his semi-hard cock tumble out. “Remind me why I love your mouth so much, Connor.”
Connor was happy to obey. As he took Hank’s swiftly hardening cock into his mouth and throat, Hank’s moans were all he wanted to focus on. Hank held onto his head, gently face-fucking Connor. Connor enjoyed the slide of Hank’s dick as he fucked his mouth and throat, and he reached for Hank’s balls, carefully stroking and fondling them in their soft, heavy sac. Hank rewarded Connor with a throaty moan and sped up his thrusts into Connor’s mouth.
This was exactly what Connor had wanted. Hank using his mouth like this, a little rough yet tender at the same time, taking his pleasure from the mouth he owned yet in a safe and sane way, the man instead of the demons in control. Connor was so hard but he almost didn’t care, his sensors filled with Hank’s thick cock shoving its way down the back of his throat—
“Connor!” Hank yelled as he came down Connor’s throat. Connor applied a little suction, milking Hank’s orgasm out of him as his body twitched. Hank eased Connor off his dick and Connor sucked the head one last time, causing it to leave his mouth with a wet pop.
Hank pulled Connor to his feet and kissed him fiercely, unzipping his pants and pulling them off. He worked on his jacket and shirt until they lay in a pile on the floor. Connor’s erection pressed against Hank’s stomach, brushing up against his soft body hair.
“Give me your hand,” Hank commanded. Connor did as he was told. Hank guided Connor's hand down to his own cock and wrapped his fingers around it, guiding him as he stroked himself like he’d never done it before. Connor soon figured out why. Hank made him move slowly, teasing his own dick, loving himself in a way he’d never do for his own sake. Hank brushed a bead of pre-come away with his thumb and raised it to his mouth, touching it to his lip and drawing his hand away so that the thick fluid hung in the air between his mouth and his hand.
It was intimate and erotic in a way that made Connor’s circuits tingle. Hank was the perfect tease, reminding Connor every time they were together that Hank owned him, that he came when Hank commanded it, that he felt pleasure because Hank allowed it.
It was at these moments when Connor felt most alive.
“Peel back the skin over your hand,” Hank ordered. Connor complied and Hank guided his naked hand up and down on his cock. It did feel different without the texture of his skin, but the extra sensitivity in his hand was also good in a strange way. He was able to appreciate his cock more, the way his synthetic skin felt to the touch and moved over his erection.
Hank removed his own hand to let Connor take control and for a moment Connor barely registered he was gone. Hank watched him intently, blue eyes boring into Connor as he touched himself, his white plastic hand exploring his cock. He reached down and caressed his balls, wondering why he’d never taken the time to learn more about his likes and dislikes. He never pleasured himself because he was Hank’s, and Hank already gave him so much pleasure that he wanted for nothing.
But Hank had noticed he never took the time to love himself, and judging from the look on his face, he wanted to see more.
“Lay back,” Hank commanded. Connor lay down on the floor. Hank took Connor's other hand and slathered some lube on his fingers, guiding them to Connor’s hole. He probed Connor’s entrance with his own fingers before letting go of his wrist. Connor kept fingering himself while jerking slowly with his other hand. Hank’s hungry eyes watched every motion.
“Stop,” Hank ordered. Connor let go of his cock and withdrew his finger.
“I’m so close, Lieutenant."
“I know.” Hank smiled. “That’s the point. That’s what you’re going to do for me, Connor. Play with yourself. Edge yourself until I come back for you.”
“Yes, Hank.” Connor took his cock in hand, slowly stroking it to maintain his erection. Hank left the room, and Connor continued to caress himself. It was an interesting exploration, halted only by the need to come. He wouldn’t orgasm until Hank allowed it. He’d continue to play, no matter how difficult it was to tear his hand away when he was so close.
Hank didn’t return for two hours. When he opened the door, Connor was lying on the floor with two fingers in his ass and his hard dick in his hand. Hank was hard as a rock inside his shorts, his cock twitching as he pulled Connor’s fingers out of his hole. He picked Connor up, placing him down on the bed with loving care before spreading his legs wide.
“I’ve been thinking about you touching yourself,” Hank said. “I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.” He grabbed the lube, slathering up his cock and Connor smiled, knowing he was going to get what he wanted. “An entire basketball game that I remember nothing about. I think that deserves a punishment, Connor.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “I’m sorry for distracting you.” His body was singing, every piece of him alive in anticipation of Hank’s punishment. Hank fingered his ass, stretching him wide before pressing the head of his cock to Connor’s hole.
Connor gasped, but he didn’t feel punished. He wanted Hank’s cock inside him. He felt complete when Hank was buried deep within him. If he was rough, that would only make it better.
Hank started to fuck him hard and fast, the bed squeaking with the force of his thrusts. “Touch yourself.”
“Lieutenant, I might not be able to prevent myself from coming," Connor explained.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to hold back this time. Come as much as you want.”
Connor started to stroke himself. A jolt ran through his bio-prostate as Hank pressed the button and suddenly Connor was coming all over himself, his body spasming with the force of his unexpected orgasm as he cried out in ecstasy.
“Can you stay erect for me?” Hank asked.
“Yes.” With the help of his programming, Connor could do almost anything, but he hardly needed to force it with Hank’s dick slamming into his prostate. Without a refractory period, technically he could keep going as long as he wanted.
“Keep playing with yourself.” Connor did as he was told, jerking his cock, his come acting as lubricant. He was less surprised this time when Hank pressed the button, but it was still good, especially combined with Hank's hard thrusts. Connor came again, his ass clenching on Hank’s thick dick as he fucked him hard and fast. Hank was close, but Connor forced his cock to rise again and continued stroking, wondering if he had any limits or if he could just keep coming for as long as Hank wanted him to.
Connor grit his teeth as Hank pounded his ass. As Hank came, he held the button down. Sensory overload hit Connor and he screamed as Hank came inside him, another orgasm washing over him. A dozen warnings popped up in his vision, alerting him to dangerous levels of sensory input.
Without any warning, Connor shut down.
***
“Connor!” Connor was aware of a sound at the edge of his audio processing range. He booted up, lines of code against a black screen filling his vision as he rebooted.
“I’m okay,” Connor said, as his OS booted him back into reality and he could form words again. “Hank.” He grabbed Hank's arms, needing reassurance that he was there and not being taken apart at some CyberLife facility.
“Oh, thank God.” Connor became aware of Hank cradling him in his arms, and Connor determined from the warm tears on his chest that Hank was crying. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that I fucked you to death?” Hank set him down on the bed and wiped his eyes on his t-shirt, seeming embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state.
“I suffered a system crash from too much sensory input,” Connor explained. “It was a little too good, Lieutenant.”
“You gotta stop scarin’ me like this, Connor. My heart can’t take it.” Hank rested his head on Connor’s chest and stayed like that for a good minute. Connor stroked his hair, smiling at Hank’s concern. It might have been a dark moment, but Connor felt loved.
“Now you know the feeling of having your partner almost die on you.” Connor grinned, and Hank looked up at him with piercing blue eyes. Connor was sure he’d pushed too far at a vulnerable moment but then Hank simply laughed, a lovely, warm rasp that filled the air, a chuckle so wonderful that Connor saved it to play back later.
“I guess you’re right. That makes us even.” Hank kissed Connor’s lips before laying down beside him. “I’m sorry for getting carried away. I suppose you do have limits after all. Nothing was damaged, right?”
“I seem to have recovered from the crash without any missing memories or corrupted data.” Connor explained. “I would like to make a request, if I may?”
“Anything,” Hank said.
“Hold me,” Connor requested. “Shutting down is somewhat unpleasant. I would like to be comforted.”
“You and me both,” Hank said. He wrapped his arm around Connor, holding him close. They lay in silence as Connor ran a system diagnostic to ensure all was well, and was relieved when it came back showing there was no damage to his file system or biocomponents.
Judging from his scans, it was a while before Hank calmed enough to finally fall asleep, and Connor lay and watched his partner sleep, Hank's gentle snores reassuring Connor that a permanent shutdown for either of them was a long way off in the distant future.