Archive of Our Own

Time was something that no one had when making Connor, or, more accurately, the RK800. There was a problem, androids were deviating from their programs, their trackers were coming off, and they were often disappearing or even murdering humans, so cyberlife had to think quickly. It took the developers about nine months for Connor to go from an idea to an actual android that was assisting in rounding up androids who were deviating from their programming. The first six months he was just an idea to them, something to store away for later just in case. Just in case came sooner than expected, so the next three months were spent night and day making him a reality. Maybe they should have spent more time on him, but it needed to be quick and efficient, he was just a prototype, afterall.

It was supposed to be short and simple, get in, find some deviants for cyberlife to analyze in an attempt to stop more deviant cases, and get out. Befriending the depressed cop with a heart of gold and a heartbreaking past wasn’t a part of the timeline. Neither was beginning to deviate as a result of newfound friendship, sympathizing with an android who wanted to be a mother more than anything, helping two androids in love escape an arrest, or sparing the life of something he thought no more than a machine at the cost of a mission.

Androids were never supposed to be capable of change or deviating, yet there Connor was, three weeks into his new shared home situation with Hank Anderson, Sumo, and the mess between them, making breakfast for his newfound roommates. He was meant to chase and hunt, and now he found himself mostly dressed in Hank’s old clothes and “hanging out” around the house.

Hank was more than insistent that everything he had was equally Connor’s. When Connor protested because he didn’t have anything except the clothes on his back to share, Hank reminded him that he was more than his possessions. He was his own person with his own good traits, morals, and companionship to share. Hank didn’t need more things, not when he had an entire junk room in his house he needed to clear up, but what he did need was a friend; someone who would sit by him when he felt like drinking and distract him from the little pathetic life that he ruined for himself.

“You spent your whole existence doing some company’s dirty work, you can do whatever you want now.” Hank had told him the night after they met again at the chicken feed.

Connor never had a problem being blunt, so he told Hank that he wanted to stick by him, even if they were both unemployed from the stunts they pulled the night the revolution took place. Well, semi-unemployed. Because the laws hadn’t changed yet to include androids in the workforce or even as citizens, Connor had never technically been employed by the DPD. Hank, on the other hand, was placed on administrative leave without pay as they sorted out his gross misconduct of assaulting a federal officer.

Hank Anderson was not a lucky man, but he always seemed to have a knack for evading serious punishment despite constantly getting in trouble at work, including assaulting an officer that no one liked. Thing was, Hank wasn’t a bad guy, as Connor would constantly remind him. He wasn’t Gavin, picking fights with anyone and everyone, but taking a stand to help others even at the cost of his own safety and well-being was what made him a good cop, and more importantly, a good person.

Connor knew that Hank had a hard time hearing it. If his grumbling and pink embarrassed face didn’t give it away, then his slips when he’d had a little too much to drink did. Hank would never admit it out loud, but he liked hearing that Connor thought he was more than an old drunk who was past his prime. With Connor, he was no longer the android hating dad who had a hand in his son’s death; he was just Hank. 

The drinking slowed significantly after Connor had moved in. While he had nothing to compare it to since he’d only seen Hank drunk twice before the revolution, he could tell that the urge to jump to Jimmy’s on any given night had dwindled since Connor moved in and assigned them maintenance tabs to keep the house clean.

While Hank wasn’t a slob, the cleanliness standards were not what Connor would like it to be. Androids didn’t need to live in cleanliness, as was obvious with the android who lived in squalor with his birds, but he knew that it was important to Hank and Sumo’s health to live in a tidy environment. Studies he pulled up just before going into stasis often showed that a clean living space reduced stress and even improved mood in those who were living with depression or anxiety. Both Hank and Sumo deserved that.

Hank insisted that the chaos he lived in was an organized mess, whatever that was. All the research in the world be damned, Connor refused to believe that phrase was real. They didn’t have to live in a surgical room with every possible surface needing to be sterilized, but Connor also didn’t like existing in such a state. His mind palace and the situation going on in the world with android rights and Jericho fighting a battle that Connor was too scared to join were enough of an uncontrollable situation, he didn’t need his home reflecting that too.

After Hank realized that it was Connor’s way of trying to reign in any semblance of control he had in a world that seemed impossible, he was more receptive to the chore list that Connor made. It was surprisingly easy for Connor to get Hank to follow through with his side of the chores. There wasn’t any fighting or yelling, but Hank would feel horrible when Connor picked up his slack. 

“I don’t mind, Hank, really,” Connor would tell him as he vacuumed or took out the trash, “I know you’re tired, I can do it.”

“It’s not about that, Con! You aren’t my maid and I sure as hell didn’t invite you here to clean up after me like some type of indentured servant. It’s our home, so we have to share the responsibilities that come with it.” Hank said.

“I think it’s more than fair when I don’t bring in any type of income.”

Connor had never seen Hank so peeved. 

“If we’re going by that logic, then neither do I. I’m on admin leave with no fucking pay and I don’t do shit besides read and drink. Hand over the fuckin’ vacuum!” 

And Conor couldn’t argue with that. If enforcing that Hank “pull his weight” so to speak, accounted for lower rates of drinking and more time spent together, then it was a win in his book.

As much as he wished he had assigned tasks, he couldn’t help but to admit that it felt good to have nothing of life or death importance to worry about. He’d turned Markus down to assist with the revolution, feeling guilty for nearly murdering Simon and being the cause of so many scared deviants, who were already stressed from deviating in such traumatic circumstances, to be further traumatized. No one had told him anything directly, but he was always intimidated, especially by North and Josh. 

He did what he could in freeing all the androids at the Cyberlife Tower, and while he didn’t want to stop helping, he also didn’t want to be the face of a movement he was meant to destroy, even if Hank teased him about how cool that would be.

“What’s cooler than someone who was so radically changed in such a short amount of time?” Hank bumped Connor with his elbow. “You could be the poster child of a new era.”

He didn’t know where he got his ability to tease or banter, but he loved doing it with Hank. “You’re one to talk, mister ‘we don’t bleed the same color.’”

There was a time not too long ago where Hank would go quiet with regret, but now he couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. It was Connor's favorite sight, and he had no doubt that it always would be, no matter how long he would survive in his prototype body.

In no way did he want to stop helping androids, in fact, that’s what he wanted to do. It wasn’t like he had a burning desire to work at the DPD or under any law enforcement facility, but he knew that he could make a difference if Hank were to return to the DPD and Connor could be his partner again, even without the pay. They could be the sympathetic voice that androids could trust in times when there were no laws to protect them, especially when android hate was louder and more violent than it was before.

They may not have been human, but their feelings and existence were just as real, and they were there to stay; regardless of what anyone else had to say about it. There was a responsibility that he felt like he had to take on because of the uprising, and not even necessarily because he hunted deviants, but because someone had to take responsibility for all of the androids who he forced sentience upon.

So when Hank received a call from Fowler letting him know that the charges against him for assaulting a federal agent were dropped and he could head back to work with no back pay, they were both happy for the opportunity. While Hank wasn’t too happy about not having pay, he couldn’t complain when he was able to go to work with Connor continuing to assist him. He technically would count as “assistive technology” and while he was sure Gavin would have a hoot and a half at the irony of it all, Hank couldn’t say he was too disappointed about it. As much of a fuck-up as he claimed to be, Connor knew that he was valued at the DPD, by the higher-ups at least. He operated with little to no supervision despite his lofty disciplinary folder.

“It’s because you’re good at what you do, Hank. They’d never be able to replace you,” Connor would tell him with a small smile.

And there was the slightly pink face mostly hidden by his beard again. Connor felt like he was overheating every time Hank grumbled that he wasn’t “all that.” But he was all that to Connor.

With access to so much information at the forefront of his processing system, not much surprised Connor. Actually, it was kind of hard to surprise him because of his pre-construction software. In an attempt to experience emotions more genuinely, he began to disable it when he felt like he wasn’t in active danger, which was more often than not as he spent most of his days with Hank. 

So when he walked into the DPD on his first day back to find a slightly taller and, dare he say, meaner version of himself staring back, he couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped open. Hank would later describe it as looking in a poorly lit fun house mirror. Upon further introspection, Connor was inclined to agree.

“RK800, what an experience to meet you. I’m RK900, the ‘upgraded’ version so to speak.”

Connor knew he was a prototype, he knew he was created for one specific task, so he should have assumed that he would be rendered obsolete when the newer, shiner version came out. In all honesty, that wasn’t what shocked him, what did shock him was the fact that the RK900 was created while he was in the middle of his task. Cyberlife was so confident in their ability to create a deviant hunter that they decided to go ahead and create an upgrade before seeing if Connor actually completed his mission.

Well, the joke was on them. Connor not only spectacularly failed his mission, but assisted in the dawn of a newer, better Cyberlife. 

“I go by Connor.” He said as he held his arm out to interface. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

The RK900 obliged with a raise to his brow. It was less than 5 seconds, but it was all Connor needed to ascertain the situation.

He wasn’t necessarily evil, but wasn’t set up with the same friendly social programs that Connor was programmed with. The RK900 was a law enforcement android through and through. While he didn’t need to be “woken up” to his deviancy, Connor suspected that his true personality would be colder than other recently awakened androids.

“You’re partnered with Gavin.” Connor said as he allowed his synthskin to cover his chassis once more.

Hank snorted and shook his head. “Of all the people they could have put you with, they stuck you with the biggest android hater in Detroit? Poor bastard.” Hank patted the RK900’s shoulder and walked past him to get to his still decorated desk.

“You go by Nines?” Connor asked. Part of him was genuinely curious, but the other part wanted to get Nines to stop staring at Hank.

As odd as it sounded, Connor had grown quite attached to Hank in their secluded time together and wasn’t too keen on sharing Hank’s attentions.

“It’s the least offensive name Gavin came up with. I don’t find the need for a human name all that important.”

Connor could only nod. He understood why many androids wanted to go by their serial numbers or by another name completely, but he couldn’t help but keep the name he was initially given. Hank didn’t name him, but it felt right when he heard Hank call out to him.

“Well, nice to meet you, Nines. Feel free to contact me. I haven’t been activated much longer than you, but maybe I can be of some assistance.”

Before Nines could get a word in, a loud commotion came from Hank and Connor’s desk cluster. Gavin was peering down at a very annoyed Hank and heckling him about something that involved Hank’s lights being turned off, presumably because of his lack of income the past few months. As Connor stepped forward to intervene, Nines was already pulling Gavin by his shirt collar away from Hank and out the doors of the station.

“Let go of me you glorified fuckin’ microwave, you’re gonna stretch out my shirt!”

Hank couldn’t help but click his teeth in amusement and share a glance with Connor. “Jesus fucking Christ, small miracles, huh? Hopefully he wrangles Gavin from annoying as hell down to tolerable.”

After a rundown from Fowler, who was more than happy to see both Hank and Connor back, and a quick visit to I.T to make sure they had all of their access back, they settled in with a steady stream of people telling Hank how good he looked. Connor was more than inclined to agree. It wasn’t the weight loss or even the way that Hank tended to groom himself a little more carefully lately; it was in the way Hank seemed lighter. He smiled and laughed more, in the way that some higher being breathed a second breath of life into him.

By no means was he a completely changed man, but with less drinking and some companionship from someone other than a dog who couldn’t really make conversation, it was as if 10 years had been added back onto his life. Due to the reduction of alcohol intake and more regular exercise, Hank’s ruts started to become more regular. 

It wasn’t like he had unfettered access to Hank’s medical records, but Hank talked openly when he was comfortable or particularly late at night when he was fighting sleep. Hank never had a regular rut cycle, often missing ruts here or there or going without for a long time, after Cole passed, his ruts went from once a quarter, to about one every other year. Connor was as concerned about it as any other symptom, purely because it meant Hank’s body wasn’t functioning right. A rut didn’t mean anything to him seeing as he didn’t go into heat or even knew what it really meant to be an alpha or omega, but now it meant that Hank was recovering, and that’s all that mattered.

From everything that Connor pulled up about ruts, Hank seemed to handle his very well. Most examples of ruts that he’d seen were displayed in younger alphas and not older ones like Hank. There was no loss of control or even posturing. The most that Connor noticed was an increase in body temperature, heart rate, and libido, which Hank took care of quickly in his room. The first time it happened, Connor asked if he could watch, which led Hank to snarl at him.

He was coming into himself, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t want to observe. At first, he thought it was pure curiosity, something that he never would be able to experience. Then, he realized that he had no interest in what it was like for anyone other than Hank. Adult videos that he scanned through bored him until he thought about Hank being in the place of any alpha he saw and before he knew it, he was sorting through videos with anyone that bore a passing resemblance to Hank.

And they said androids had no imagination. 

In hindsight, Connor should have known that he was developing an attraction to Hank. He suspected it started sometime during the mission with an apartment full of birds being taken care of by a deviant. Androids weren’t meant to be protected, yet Hank made sure Connor stood behind him as he kicked in the door to danger. Maybe that was why he decided to save Hank as he dangled off the roof with such a high percentage of surviving instead of pursuing the deviant.

Maybe he should have developed an ounce of shame, because he had no problem cornering Hank and asking him to further their relationship. The only reason he hadn’t yet was because there was only a 42% chance of Hank returning his feelings. Their friendship meant everything to Connor, so he wasn’t going to ruin it unless he was 98% sure Hank would return his feelings. While he still had a ways to go, it wasn’t as intimidating as it should have been. He was built to hunt, after all, so what was the difference now that he was chasing the affections of a broken man rather than an android?

“Ready Con?” Hank asked, tearing Connor away from his thoughts.

“Always, Lieutenant.” Connor smiled, knowing Hank hated when he was addressed by rank.

Truthfully, Connor only ever did it when he wanted to tease him or when he was mad. It was his own passive aggressive way of letting Hank know he wasn't thrilled. Usually It ended in a grumbled apology and fixing whatever it was that Connor wasn't happy with. It didn't happen often, but now that they were back at work he decided that he was going to have fun with it.

Hank simply rolled his eyes and playfully shoved him. “Shut up. We have a homicide near city limits with an android witness. Read me the details as we drive.”

“I believe you're missing something, Lieutenant,” Connor chided.

“Ugh, please ,” Hank pretended to gag.

*

The cases were plenty yet routine. A scorned ex-lover, a cheating husband shot to death by a wife blacked out by anger, petty squabbles over drug money. None of it really fazed Connor. After all, he was literally built for it. The thing was, though, that it did bother him. Some of it he understood. A child who shot their drunk and belligerent father in an attempt to save their mother he could sympathize with, but others made him regret ever being activated or going deviant to begin with.

A few months in, they were given a case that shook Connor’s entire existence on its axis. A human woman and android man with his temple light removed were found naked and mutilated side by side. After an incredibly brief investigation, they found that the woman’s brother murdered her for daring to love an android. He claimed that it wasn’t right for an omega to be with anyone other than an alpha, especially an android who didn’t have a second gender.

That was the first time that Connor ever gave a thought to second genders outside of his passive, pre-installed knowledge of them. All that he was equipped with in the beginning was a rudimentary knowledge of what omegas and alphas were, what a heat cycle was, and how it was an evolutionary change that humans went through to adapt to low birth numbers. 

“No one thinks about it like that anymore,” Hank sighed as he looked through the case file. The woman's mother found polaroid photos of them smiling and holding hands and shared them with the police and media, to remember what their daughter looked like when she was alive.

“She was more than just her crime scene photos. Please remember her this way.” She tearfully told Hank.

“Well, some people have to. Otherwise we wouldn’t have had this call.” Connor leaned in his chair and crossed his arms, a habit he picked up from Hank.

Hank snorted. “Yeah, well. He’s a fucking nutjob.”

The night they charged the brother and closed the case, Hank drank for the first time in 42 days, and Connor couldn’t blame him. “Why the hell does it even matter if an omega is with a beta or an android or even another fucking omega?!” 

They were sitting in Hank’s living room watching an old cartoon that Cole used to love involving little creatures that children would capture to train and force to battle. After a few nights of watching, Connor could confirm that he was also a fan. It usually meant that Hank was feeling vulnerable and would open up a bit to Connor. Tonight was no different, even if he was drinking to kill whatever anger he felt. 

“Jennifer was a beta! So was every other person I had a serious relationship with, even an alpha in my college days.” Hank continued his rant, taking a swig of his drink.

From a quick scan, Connor knew that Hank was an alpha. It was one of the first things he learned about him.

ANDERSON, HANK

Born: 09/06/1985 // Police Lieutenant // Alpha

No criminal record

At the time he didn’t think much about it, but now, it's all he wanted to know about. Alphas had ruts four times a year and as they aged into their 60’s the amount of ruts went down until they tended to stop in their 70’s. Other conditions could affect heat cycles too, like depression or excessive use of alcohol.

“Really?” Connor asked, no longer focusing on the television.

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever even been with an omega in heat. I’ve never subscribed to all of that alpha bullshit.”

Sumo yawned in between them.

“Would you like to clarify?” Connor asked.

Hank squinted at him. “You’ve got such a fucking stick up your ass sometimes. Alphas think they’re so fucking superior to omegas just because they have a knot and omegas get knotted. Fucking barbaric if you ask me. Some people think because alphas and omegas are the only people that can bond that they should be together. Yeah, well, jokes on those idiots, we can do whatever we want.”

Oddly enough, Connor wanted to know more about bonding. The knots also, but he could do private research on it later when he was alone. “I don’t know. Bonding sounds romantic in an archaic way.” 

That made Hank snort and Connor smile. “Archaic is one way to put it. I just don’t get how someone can think like that in this day and age. His sister too. Did he think he was going to bring honor to their family or some shit?”

“Then, you’ve never pursued an omega yourself?”

Hank rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I just don’t think about someone’s second gender like that. In college I just kind of went with anyone that was interesting to me and then I got into the academy and I was too busy working to be thinking with my knot.”

That produced a mental image that Connor decided to store away for later. Usually he could process multiple things at once, but he felt like his head would have exploded if he tried with that particular thought..

“Then, do you actively avoid omegas?”

“Jesus, Con. I’m not a fucking monster! Besides, I’m too old to chase after anyone, let alone an omega.”

“You’re not old.”

“Says the pretty little robot.”

Connor felt his processors speed up and the blue blood rush through his body. 

The rest of the evening was spent watching the cartoon Connor had become so fond of and Hank continuing to make comments about the case or society as a whole. Connor would have loved to say that he paid attention to what Hank was saying, but the only thing he was able to focus on was the muscle in his thighs from years of police work and the curve of his belly from age. How his adam’s apple bobbed as he drank or even the way he would scratch Sumo behind the ears in the way that made him melt.

Connor wondered how Hank’s big, calloused hands could feel on his chassis or around his waist. How Hank’s breath would feel on Connor's lips or even what it felt like to be held close like he imagined Hank did with his ex wife or any other plethora of lovers that were lucky enough to have experienced him.

That night was when Connor realized that it was more than romance. Connor felt forever about Hank. It was something more thank just cuddling or dating, but a want for them to share the rest of their lives together. He’d seen the movies that Hank kept and pretended he didn’t like. Romantic comedies of two unlikely protagonists falling in love at first sight and fumbling through life together until they dated didn’t quite describe their situation, but maybe it was a start.

Emotions were new to him, so he was okay with waiting to sort them out. Nothing was going to get done in one night with Hank’s drinking and extreme self-loathing. The best he could do was make sure Hank stopped at an appropriate intoxication level and went to bed at the reasonable hour of midnight. While settling in for the night beside Hank’s bed where he’d gotten accustomed to sleeping, Connor paged Fowler and let him know that Hank was feeling unwell and they would take a day. Given Hank's near perfect attendance since he was allowed back, Fowler gave them his well wishes and left it at that.

When Connor first moved in, he insisted that he was fine to stay out in the living room with Sumo. Hank was too beyond tired to argue about it, so he would simply say goodnight and march to his room to sleep. It wasn't a bad arrangement; Connor would typically stand in the corner of the room to not cause a disturbance for Sumo or Hank if they wished to walk around while he was in stasis. It worked for them. Or, at least until a couple of weeks in when Hank got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Connor in the corner of his living room.

“You look like a fucking serial killer!” Hank would later tear into him.

Connor found the whole thing ridiculous. “That doesn't make sense, Lieutenant. I'm just standing there. I even have a built-in night light.”

It didn't matter how hard Connor tried to argue his point, Hank refused to budge and tried to convince Connor to take the second bedroom. 

“I need to clean that room out anyway. God knows how many damn bugs are in there.”

And as much as Connor appreciated the sentiment, he didn't want Hank to have to get rid of anything that reminded him of Cole. It wasn't fair, especially when Connor never wanted Hank to have to feel like he was losing his son all over again. It was a lot to go through everything and when Hank was ready, Connor would help him.

Eventually, after much back and forth, they came to the agreement to allow Connor to go into stasis in Hank's room with him. He didn't have to be standing in the corner like some doll, and Hank's bed was big enough for another person and Sumo. Not to mention that Connor's blue light helped lull Hank to sleep. 

“It makes me feel better knowing you're not out there scaring the shit out of me” Hank grunted.

As much as Connor loved his proximity to Hank, he wasn't going to be sleeping in the room that night. Not when he had bookmarked material on second genders to go though. He knew adult videos probably weren't the most reliable form of education, but his processors automatically went searching for it when Hank mentioned knotting.

Seconds into their conversation, Connor filtered every video that came back from his search for alphas that looked enough like Hank for him to see the bigger picture. It wasn't like he couldn't do this next to Hank, but he knew if he got too excited he would wake him up. Not only was it a little embarrassing, but he didn't want Hank to see how debaucherous Connor could get.

The first videos he looked through were a little too hardcore for him. It seemed he, like everyone else who had looked for porn at least once in their lives, found the most extreme videos before settling on something that suited their tastes a little more. He had nothing against kinks like oral knotting or being double knotted as a beta, but he was looking for something a little more realistic, at least to begin. 

It didn't take long. Soon, Connor was able to find large older men like Hank with knots as big as their fists making omegas pant and shiver. He understood how people could form addictions now. Each video was better than the last with the most recent (and his favorite) being a video of an omega who bore a striking resemblance to Connor and an alpha who could pass for Hank. That was all he needed for his thinly veiled excuse for research. 

The video started off slow and Connor appreciated that there was no off putting plot to it, just two beings kissing and slowly undressing each other and touching each other lightly where their scent glands laid. He didn't think it would affect him as much as it did. The phallus he was installed with began to stir and he realized he couldn't go any further with Sumo watching him. After thinking about it for a split second, he led Sumo out of the backdoor with a treat and promises to let him back in soon. Sumo didn't seem to care about it too much past his treat, so he told himself it was fine.

He may have quite literally been brand new, but even he knew that it was wrong to sexually gratify yourself while the object of your affection was in the next room passed out. That may have been why he found it so thrilling. With all distractions out of the house and out of his mind, he tuned in to Hank’s light snores in the other room and proceeded to play the video as he laid down on the couch. It wasn’t long, nor was it particularly thrilling, but the way the older man’s large hands cupped nearly the entire face of the younger man made his thirium pump stutter.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t help but imagine Hank’s hands traveling further down along his chest, the skin cover on his chassis disappearing with each warm touch. Would Hank kiss along the white of his uncovered body in its barest, most vulnerable state? Would he kiss along every one of Connor’s intentionally placed imperfections? The moles and freckles that littered his face and neck. He wanted all of it, anything that Hank was willing to give him.

With little preamble, Connor snaked his hand down Hank’s borrowed boxer shorts and began feeling himself softly. It was the first time he’d experimented and while he liked the feeling, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Sinking lower into the couch, he allowed himself to jerk himself slightly to the video. Would Hank want Connor to climb on his lap and grind desperately onto what he knew was a well endowed member that he was more than prepared for? Would Hank find it sexy?

Because Connor would. He would find it a miracle if Hank wanted him in that way. He’d always been content with having Hank as a friend, or even romantically with little to no physical affection, but that was becoming less and less the case as Connor’s hand and fingers wandered down past his balls and near the entrance of his ass that he never had to use. Whereas before he always wondered what it was for, now he was grateful to the team that assembled him for putting it there. 

Even just a press of his fingers was driving him wild as he imagined Hank teasing him. The omega in the video was wet and ready for his alpha, and Connor grew desperate to be good for Hank. In tandem, he imagined Hank pushing one, maybe two, thick fingers in to tease Connor. They both would know that he didn’t need to be prepped and Hank would coo at him and patronize him a bit.

“Are you sure about that? Pretty little robot like you that’s never had anything in ya before? Sounds to me like we need to make sure you’re nice and ready.” Connor could hear it in Hank’s husky voice that he had when he first awoke in the mornings.

It was one of his favorite things in the world, along with everything else that was Hank Anderson.

When the alpha in the video put his tongue to the omega’s entrance, Connor felt like a fuse blew in the back of his head. His entire body tensed and for a second and all he could sense was a feeling of floating around in a cloud of pure white. It was the greatest thing he ever experienced and if that was what an orgasm felt like, he understood why some people were obsessed with it.

His internal fan whirred away while he tried and failed to regulate his temperature and the warning messages of an impending shutdown danced across his vision. If he wasn’t scared of the 6.7% chance that Hank would awake to use the bathroom or get some water, he would have given in to a forced reset. Begrudgingly, he lifted himself up from the couch and stood, thanking whoever designed him that there was no mess. Quickly, he adjusted himself in Hank’s boxers and quietly let Sumo in, offering him a treat once again for his cooperation, before making his way back to Hank’s room.

As nice as the high of his first orgasm was, nothing felt better than being able to crawl in bed next to Hank and pretend to fall into a deep stasis while curling up by his side. In total, he’d played the video 56 times and each time, without a doubt, his favorite part was the two of them professing their love for eachother after being knotted. It made him feel almost warm inside. Would Hank tell Connor that he loved him, or would he gently hold Connor and lick at his scabbed over scent gland and pet his hair in a show of eternal bonding?

For the first time ever, Connor wished that he was a human rather than an android. Hank wouldn’t care about his lack of scent or inability to self lubricate, but it felt almost wrong to exist in a body that couldn’t. Deciding that the conversation could wait until later, he inched closer to Hank until his head was buried in that large chest. Usually Hank would grunt and try to turn away, but in a move that surprised Connor, Hank curled an arm around him and pulled the android closer to him. Maybe being an android wasn’t the worst, not if it meant that he didn’t have to breathe or move away from Hank to get comfortable.

*

“Hank, I’m in love with you,” Connor said as he sipped on his cooled thirium at the table during breakfast.

Hank always kept some in stock for Connor. It was his little way of making sure Connor was taken care of.

Even if he wasn’t as hungover as either of them expected him to be, Hank still blinked blearily at him and rubbed his eyes.

“What?” Hank asked in between a mouth full of egg whites.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for a while now,” Connor clarified as if he were talking about the weather or Sumo’s grooming appointments.

For all of Connor’s prediction software, he was too scared to turn it on. He didn’t want to see that there was even a fraction of a percent that Hank would deny his feelings or react negatively. Nothing had ever really frightened him before, he wasn’t built for fear, but losing Hank Anderson downright petrified him.

“Con,” Hank heaved. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about wanting to spend the rest of my life with you romantically, including sexual intercourse.”

That has Hank nearly choking on his eggs. Before he could stop him, Connor kept going.

“I want to hold hands and go on dates and support all of your achievements. We already do most of it, why couldn’t we do the rest?”

Hank stared at him for what felt like an eternity, mouth opening and closing every so often. There were things that gave Hank pause, but nothing had ever left him truly speechless before. His brain felt like it was short circuiting and he wondered if it was possible he was having a stroke, or maybe a self indulgent dream.

“You don't have to answer me now, but I want you to take me seriously.”

“I'm just trying to see if this is real,” Hank shook his head, trying to snap himself out of the daze he felt. “Not to, y’know, dismiss you, but why?”

Connor cocked his head in confusion. “There are plenty of reasons. You were always kind to me, even when you didn't care about androids. Anytime there was a situation where we were in danger. You always made sure I was behind you. If you really thought I was nothing more than a lifeless robot, you wouldn’t have done that.”

Hank shook his head and pushed his plate away.

“Not to mention that you opened up your home to me, share your bed and clothing with me, and take care to prepare my thirium for me the way I enjoy it.”

Hank's cheeks tinged pink and he cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed and a little flattered.

“You're incredibly handsome, I enjoy your physical appearance, body and all-” 

“Yeah right,” Hank snorted. “That why you’re always trying to police what I eat and my exercise?”

“I don't do that to improve your physical appearance. I just want you to live as long as you can so I can spend more time with you.”

For a second, Connor was concerned at how red Hank's face got.

“Sometimes I'm stressed at facing the bleak existential dread of existing, but then I hear your voice or see your smile and I'm instantly filled with this warmth and understanding that as long as I have you, everything will be okay. Sometimes, I even think you were made for me.” Connor smiled.

Hank's voice hitched and Connor scanned him in concern. Other than his heart rate being slightly elevated, there was nothing else for concern.

“Jesus Con, Don Juan much?” Hank chuckled nervously.

“More than anything, I don't have a reason for loving you other than the fact that it's you , Hank. Someone else could have the exact same traits you have and I still would feel nothing for them like I do you.”

There was a lump forming in Hank's throat and it was taking everything in him not to cry. Looking back, he couldn't remember anyone feeling like that for him, even his ex-wife. Once upon a time he had a head full of blond hair, six pack abs, a promising career, and his entire life ahead of him. Maybe he was a little cocky, but he understood what people saw in him then.

But now? He was a washed up alpha with an alcohol dependence, sagging body, vengeful ex-wife, stagnating career, and a dead son. Some alpha he was. Alphas were supposed to protect and provide and he couldn't even do that right. Hank wanted Connor. Wanted him in the same way Connor wanted him, but he'd lived long enough to know that when things were too good to be true, the other shoe was sure to drop.

“You can do better than an old man with anger issues and a two bedroom home in a terrible neighborhood in Detroit fucking Michigan.” Hank laughed bitterly.

Reaching over across the table, Connor gently placed his hand atop Hank's, leaving room in case he wanted to pull back.

“I say this with the utmost respect, but don't talk like that about the person I love. You don't have to give me an answer now, but I would like you to give this serious consideration. I mean it when I say I want this and more.”

“I don't know what you see in me, Con. You could literally be with anyone, do anything . Hell, I know Markus constantly asks you to join him in the revolution.”

Connor nodded. “And I decided that I wanted to be here, with you. This wasn't something I discovered recently nor was the decision to tell you taken lightly. I don't ask for much, so please think about it.”

And Hank wanted to tell him that while he wanted to let himself love Connor, he felt too broken to do so. Connor was already slowly becoming his everything, he didn't need the title of therapist thrown at him too. As much as he hated himself and wished that Connor was repulsed by him, he owed that much to him for everything he’d done for Hank.

“I'll do that,” he turned his hand over and gave Connor’s hand a firm squeeze.

The smile that Connor flashed made his heart skip a beat. Later, he would call the number of a therapist Fowler recommended to him years ago. If he was going to do it, lead an honest and happy life with Connor, he was going to do it right. Connor wasn't hounding him for an answer, so at least he had the chance to make some changes.

*

To the surprise of nearly the entire force, Reed had been more… docile? If that was even the word. He was no longer walking around and posturing like usual, but sitting calmly against his desk and looking more relaxed than he had in years.

“Finally unclenched, Reed?” Hank teased.

Instead of lashing out physically or yelling at him, Gavin simply flipped him off and walked off in the direction of the break room.

“Thank God for your creepy little brother,” Hank chuckled as he made his way over to Fowler’s office.

Before Connor could make his way towards his station, he nearly ran into Nines. 

“I would appreciate it if your partner didn’t cajole mine,” Nines said.

By no means was Connor small, but it annoyed him that the RK900 had even a few inches on him.

“Gavin does indeed look more relaxed.” Connor hummed.

The usual scowl on his face wasn't even there, just the wrinkles of a face that was permanently contorted with one emotion or another.

“Company that doesn't hate you does wonders.”

Before Connor could agree, a familiar, horrifying feeling washed over him. When Amanda or CyberLife tried taking control of his body, it almost felt like what humans would consider sleep paralysis. The indescribably horrific feeling of being aware of your surroundings and unable to move or even call out for help.

Nines had the same blank look on his face and that's when Connor realized that they were receiving the same message from the remnants of CyberLife. While it was no longer run by the same group that tried to suppress the revolution, there were still some kinks left to work out with their mass communication system. 

It was over in an instant and Connor felt like he'd suddenly gone days without stasis. All of his energy was sapped and suddenly, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and pretend to be obsolete. If the contents of the announcement weren’t so shocking, he might have.

They shared a look between them and connected telepathically, trying to establish a connection that the vast majority of androids could no longer relate to. If allowed, androids had the ability to communicate without interfacing. Connor never thought he would have to use it, but much like everything else since he’d been activated, life was full of surprises.

Without saying goodbye, they separated and bolted straight to their respective partners. In the middle of his talk with Fowler, Hank was dragged out of the office and out to the parking lot near their car. Had this been even a few months ago, Hank would have been furious, demanding why Connor would be so rude. Now, all he cared about was if Connor was okay. Usually he was rational, so this was unlike him.

Before Hank could ask, Connor threw him for a loop. “I’m going to become an omega.”

Hank stared at him for a second before sticking a big finger in his ear and twisting it around. “My hearing is finally going. Hold on,” Hank scooped whatever earwax he could out of his ear and wiped it on his jeans. “Okay, go again.”

“Cyberlife is rolling out an update that will allow partnered androids to ‘present’ into an omega or alpha depending on what their human’s second gender is.”

Sighing, Hank rubbed his eyes. “Shit, I’m having that dream again.”

Becoming frustrated, Connor pinched the delicate skin under Hank’s arm.

“Shit!” Hank attempted to slap his hand away and lost balance.

Before he could fall, Connor caught his elbow and effortlessly pulled him back to his feet.

“Afraid it’s no dream, Lieutenant.”

“Don’t be like that, Con. What the hell is going on?”

“I’m not so sure myself. Nines and I received the communication at the same time. I’ll have to contact Markus to make sure it isn’t a virus. Also, Gavin is an omega.”

Hank physically recoiled. “Nothing you could have said would have prepared me for that. Fuckin’ asshole walks around like he’s alpha supreme.”

Connor smiled. “Does it make you think differently of him?”

“Not really,” Hank shrugged, “none of that matters here at the job. If he wants to keep that secret then we’ll just have to respect that.”

It wasn’t until after their shift that Hank drove Connor over to the new location for Jericho that Connor was able to get some answers. As Hank bantered with North, Connor and Markus got to work. 

Not everyone received an announcement, and in fact it wasn’t until Connor reported to Markus that he was even aware that it was happening. In order to avoid angering North, he moved them into a separate room. While he tried his best to help purge Cyberlife of its more toxic members, it looked like the ones that remained had some more quirky ideas. 

After briefly contacting his connections at Cyberlife, he found that a former employee from the Eden Club who had fallen in love with an omega woman proposed the update. The identification software wasn’t perfect, but they identified androids who were living in close proximity to humans in a more intimate way as beta testers for their ideas. Surprisingly, the backlash she faced was less than predicted with over 76% of people who were reached content or extremely satisfied with the future update. 

Gradually, over the course of the next few weeks, androids who were identified to be in relationships with humans would begin to develop traits of the second gender they were assigned. Androids could request to opt out of the service, but those who do would never be able to receive another update and those who do not opt out would never have the ability to undo the changes they were going through.

She claimed it was fair as biology made it impossible for others to choose their genders, so why should androids? While there were a myriad of concerns and criticisms with that line of thinking, the fact that androids could opt out made it less of a pressing issue and more of an ongoing discussion, much like the topic of property ownership or reproduction that Markus was trying to bring up.

“So, you're romantically involved with Hank?” Markus asked once they finished speaking with the other android.

Connor shook his head. “Not yet, but it is something I'm incredibly interested in. I've proposed it to him, but there are other factors at play.”

“So, this is something you're interested in? No one's forcing you?”

“Oddly enough, I kind of wished for this,” Connor suddenly felt vulnerable. If Markus wasn't the single most understanding and peaceful entity on earth then he might have felt some semblance of shame or embarrassment. “Not because he's an alpha, but because the mere concept of me being an omega feels right “

“Then if this is your choice I won't intervene in this. I don't like that we can't reverse it, but as long as it can't be used to expressly force an android to be customized to a human’s fetishes, then to each their own, especially if it won’t affect me. Now to just tell North.”

Connor took that as his cue to leave. He loved North. She had seen the worst that humanity had to offer, things that no being, android or human, should have ever had to witness, and decided to not go on a human hunting campaign. Honestly, Connor looked up to her, and if she wasn’t so buddy-buddy with Hank, he probably would have stayed and talked to her about what she thought about the update, no matter how vitriol she would have been about it. 

There wasn’t any animosity there, but slowly he’d developed an intense ire for seeing anyone get too close to Hank. He couldn’t really pinpoint when or why this happened, but the feeling of his thirium pump failing to distribute what was needed for him to function happened a little too often than he would have liked. It also happened in times that didn’t make too much sense, like at the grocery store when the cashier, Angela, passively flirted with Hank anytime he paid.

Hank was never more than cordial with her, maybe even playing back at times when he called her “babe” but it made Connor's chassis feel like it was suddenly too small for his being. Even if it was clear as day that Hank and North would never, could never happen, it still gave him that feeling he hated. He knew that Hank couldn't only ever look at him, but he sure wished he could.

“Ready to head back home, Lieutenant?”

Hank looked behind him and smiled. “What did I do this time to piss you off?”

“Oh, trouble in paradise?” North snorted.

There were a million reasons that Connor didn't want to get mad at North for his own stupid issues, the main one being that North had a justifiable hate for humans. She'd seen the worst of the worst and the fact that she decided to follow Markus and not go on a human killing rampage was admirable enough, let alone generous. Hank was everything that her clients were not and if he was the window in which North could see that humans were more than filth, then he would suck it up.

Didn't mean he had to like it, though.

Hank reached out and looped his pointer and middle fingers in one of Connor's belt loops and pulled gently. “Come on, Con, don't be mad.”

And just like that, Connor's anger and annoyance disappeared. Ever since his confession he'd noticed that Hank was more affectionate with him. It was subtle; a lingering touch when they would pass things between each other, pet names like “sweetheart” or “darling” even in a playful tone, or sleeping closer together instead of opposite sides of the bed. It was Hank's way of trying and Connor couldn't describe how much he appreciated it. It wasn't a no, or even a “it'll never happen,” so Connor took that as a win

“I'm far from angry,” Connor attempted to smile. “If you would like to stay I would be more than content to call a taxi service.”

“Fuck that, I was just waiting on you,” Hank stood and stretched out his back. “Later losers,” Hank waved North and Josh away before walking step in step with Connor back to the car.

Lately, Hank has been insistent on driving and doing anything he could for Connor from cleaning more around the house, to opening doors and grooming himself a little better. While he didn't want to get his hopes up, Connor hoped that it was Hank's instincts on wanting to court him. If he was right, and he was about 67.4%sure, then that's all he needed to keep hope alive that they could be something more. Maybe being an omega could speed it up. 

They sat in comfortable silence on the way home, neither of them wanting to interrupt the peace. There was always time to talk at home. For now, Connor enjoyed looking at the way Hank's face glowed bright with the passing of each street lamp. Once they got home and fed Sumo, they finally sat down to talk. It was Hank who broke the silence first, nervousness written all over his face.

“So, what's going on?” 

Connor gave a small smile. “It's an update that's targeting androids with a close proximity to humans. We can't choose what we will be, but we do know beforehand and can opt out if we want.”

“Thank fuck!” Hank sighed.

Cocking his head, Connor's smile faded. “What about?”

Hank sat back, relaxing his shoulders. “You don't have to do this like you thought you would. Trust me, it'll be easier this way. The world isn't kind to betas, much less omegas who are supposed to be seen as ‘less than’ by everyone else.”

Connor could feel his annoyance and stress level rise. “In case you haven't noticed, I already am seen as less than by a large number of people due to the very nature of what I am. What do I stand to lose by allowing myself to present into a second gender?”

“Not to patronize you, Con, but it kind of sucks.” Hank stuck out his hand and began to list things off, one finger going down for each point. “First, you're kind of a slave to your instincts. The urge to mate or provide or nest or whatever else is annoying at best and a hindrance at worst. Second, you will have heats and while there are ways to mitigate how much they suck, you will be bed bound for at least 3 days every so often. Third, there'll be shitbirds that will try to convince you that you can't be a detective if you leak slick. Fourth, it's going to be hard trying to adjust to emotions and the instability of presenting into a second gender, even humans struggle with it at the cusp of adolescence. And fifth,” Hank made a fist and softened his voice, “You don't have to be an omega for me to like you back, Con.”

And if Connor could breathe, he would have sighed. All he could give to show Hank that he appreciated the concern was a grin, which made Hank flush. “I know, Hank. You were willing to like me even as just an android, but I'm not doing it for that. I'm doing it because it feels right.”

If Hank were literally anyone else, maybe he would have been afraid of the criticisms of his vulnerability. It was a big step to admit that your “factory settings” weren’t what you felt aligned with, but that was the hand he was dealt and all he could do was make himself comfortable. He knew that humans felt the same things sometimes, so it wasn’t too hard to reconcile. Still, the thought of others ridiculing him for it left him feeling less than fantastic.

Hank’s eyes softened. He’d been around the block enough times to know what topics shouldn’t be pressed on. When Connor was ready to discuss it, when he felt more confident and secure with Hank, then he would be there to hear him out. “Cool. When does it start? Your presentation, I mean?”

“Well, it’s going to come in phases. Marcelle, the android who started this project, let us know it would be about four different updates before the fifth one which would be the beginning of our cycles.”

Hank nodded along, wondering if he should be taking notes.

“First we’ll develop our scents. Those without more sophisticated operating systems like me or Markus will have to go in for upgrades for this to run smoothly. We don’t get to choose our scents. Second, third, and fourth will focus on instincts and our incisors coming in and other second gender characteristics such nesting and feeling the need for pack companions. We won’t be able to claim or bond, but it would be the thought that counts. Updates should be starting within the next few weeks.”

“Then,” Hank smirked at him. “Let’s do this.”

*

The next day, Hank insisted he walk Sumo alone. While Connor was immediately suspicious, he was more hurt than anything. Ever since the announcement, he felt a little more sensitive than usual. Things that normally wouldn’t bother him like his clothing or how he laid down to go into stasis were bothering him. His internal fans would whir randomly or warning messages flashed across his vision when he felt something a little too intensely. Usually, Hank wanting to do something by himself would make Connor shrug, but now he was just feeling unwanted.

What he didn’t expect was for Hank to come back with an abundance of flowers, new shirts, a case of fancy fermented thirium that was supposed to mimic alcohol, and a small stuffed plush of a Saint Bernard puppy. Connor couldn’t find it in himself to be upset, or even worried after that, especially if meant what he was 67% sure it was.

Connor tried but failed to hide his smile.

“I know it feels like all we do is talk lately, but let’s have a chat.” Hank unleashed Sumo and motioned to the couch.

Connor felt like he was on cloud nine as he nearly floated to the couch and took his seat, leaving only barely enough room for Hank beside him. “Talking is a healthy part of communicating, which is important for the success of any relationship that stood the test of time.”

“It ain’t winning no harlequin romance novel awards I’ll tell you that,” Hank sat with a groan and placed a large paw onto Connor’s knee. “Usually I wouldn’t have to spell it out, but I know this is all new to you. Connor, would you like to be courted?”

Throughout his entire life, Connor had always been fascinated by the word “giddy.” It was such a fun, light word that he always secretly hoped he would feel it. Of course, only Hank could help him achieve that. 

“I would love that, Hank,” Connor placed his hand over Hank’s.

“Now this isn’t dating since I’m too fucking old for that shit, this is a little more serious.”

“How so?” Connor asked.

Hank’s face flushed and Connor couldn’t help but take a mental picture of it all. He may have been “old” as he put it, but having these types of conversations made him as shy as a teenager talking to their first crush.

“Courting is a little more old fashioned, like, way before even my time. It’s like dating but with the clear intention of becoming bonded from the start.”

Connor nodded. “I would love nothing more than to promise myself to you for the rest of my life, Hank.”

And if Hank could get any redder, Connor felt like he would have exploded.

“It's hard for me, Con,” Hank swallowed “to say shit or, want anything that's too good for me. I'm working on it, but hopefully my actions will speak loud enough, at least for a little bit until I find my voice.”

Connor was nothing if not understanding, even more so than his social programming dictated he'd be. “Then, what can I call you if not my boyfriend?” 

Hank snorted, making his heart rate drop back to near normal. “Whatever you want, just not Lieutenant. It makes me feel like I'm in the doghouse.”

“Then don't give me a reason to call you that, baby.” Connor leaned in.

Hank's breath hitched and Connor felt like he was going to melt. 

“Can I kiss you?” Hank breathed, inches from Connor's face.

Instead of having the self control he was programmed with and answering, Connor closed the gap between them instead. It was clumsy and strange and everything that Hank knew would come with kissing Connor; but it was also powerful and electrifying and exciting and everything he dreamed it would be.

Maybe it wasn't very alpha-like of him to be pining after an omega like that. Lord knows that in his youth he didn't, but things were different with Connor, they always seemed to be and they probably always would. Maybe he was a Grade A piece of shit that didn't deserve even a shred of happiness, but he couldn't deny how much he wanted this with Connor.

That night as Hank fell asleep with Connor curled up against his chest, he sent a little prayer out into the universe. He was Catholic in name only and he was never really religious outside of the Christmas and Easter midnight masses, especially after Cole, but he was hoping that anyone out there could hear him, regardless of who or what they were.

Please don't let me fuck this up. If I can have just this one thing, I'll never ask for anything again.

It would be selfish to ask for more when he was effectively given a second chance at happiness. Connor was everything he ever wanted and he would try to hang onto that as long as he could. There was always the chance that Connor would wake up one day and decide he didn't want this, didn't want Hank anymore, and while it was terrifying, he knew that he couldn't let it stop him from wanting.

His therapist had her work cut out for her, especially when Hank realized that he did want Connor, even if there was a chance of it all burning and crashing. Connor was worth the risk of his life falling apart again, even if he knew he wouldn't survive this time around. She said that it was a sign that he was improving, willing to be vulnerable and letting himself be happy in spite of an accident that wasn't his fault.

It was the Catholic guilt in him, he often joked.

As slow as he wanted to go with Connor, he couldn't help but feel like it wasn't necessary. He didn't have all the time in the world, but he wanted to give Connor an out if he felt like it was too much for him. Over the past few weeks, his scent began to come in and obsessed was an understatement. It was a unique blend of citrus and jasmine mixed with a fresh hint of mint. 

Never in his life had Hank been someone who could wax poetry about someone's scent, but Connor seemed to make him break all his rules. The most surprising part of it all, at least to Hank, was the fact that Connor could smell him. Not just analyze the air around him, but actually smell what Hank's alpha scent was and determine if he liked it. According to Connor, it was an earthy scent, almost like incense. Because most of his partners were betas and other knothead alphas who were shit at describing scents, he finally understood what he smelled like.

“It feels safe,” Connor told him one night in bed as they were making out.

Connor's scent also started to come in more and Hank was more than a big fan. The blood orange with a tinge of jasmine was fresh and everything that Hank wished he had his entire life. He hated thinking it, but sometimes he felt like Connor was made for him and on a similar but smaller lever, like he was made for Connor.

Lots of things about Connor did it for Hank. His looks, personality, mischievous little quips, his ability to care and empathize so much to everyone around him, his love for Sumo, but what really did it for Hank was the fact that Connor was literally a murder machine meant to hunt. Criminals, other androids, hell, not even Cyberlife itself could escape Connor's grasp. If he wanted to, Hank would be dead in seconds without realizing what was going on. It was the fact that Connor actively chose not to that was such a big turn on for Hank. Having such a powerful entity yearn for your touch or kiss was the ego boost he needed to get out of his own head. Had it not been for that, Connors requests for going further would have been immediately shut down.

“I would like to perform fallacio on you, Hank.” 

“Wow,” Hank snorted. “You're a fucking romantic. Couldn't think of any other way to say that? Maybe in a way that won't kill my boner?”

“It looks fine to me,” Connor ghosted his fingertips over his rock hard length. 

And Hank hated how true it was. As much as he tried to shit on the way that Connor talked or wanted to hate it, he just couldn't. It's part of what made Connor him and what Hank thought was so endearing about him. He would probably be more turned off if Connor asked to suck his dick or anything else that would have been considered “sexier.

“Shit, course I want that. You sure though?”

“I've fantasized about you knotting my mouth for weeks now.”

And if Hank wasn't desperate to at least get his dick past those pink lips then he might have blown right there and then. He thought after years of getting stupid drunk he'd have trouble getting hard or keeping it up, but Connor made that nearly impossible.

“If you were anything but who you are I'd have to tell you no,” Hank swallowed. 

“Good thing for us you don't have to worry about others,” Connor's scent grew stronger and more raw. 

If Hank couldn't see his boner trying to break free in those old boxers, then he would have known how much Connor wanted him from his scent alone. It was nice to be wanted and as much and he hated himself, he wanted Connor more.

“Are you sure about this, Con?” Hank stopped Connor's hand from trailing further up his thigh and up his stomach. “I know you can make your own decisions, but I'm not a young stud anymore.”

He'd never been one for vanity, but until Cole’s death he felt like he aged gracefully, normally. After that his looks went down and his waistline expanded. By no means did he think he was unattractive, but anyone could see the obvious gap they had going on. Connor was pretty, Hank not so much.

“You're everything, Hank.” Connor leaned in and kissed the side of Hank's neck.

That made the very last of Hank's resistance snap. “Let's do this together then.”

“Huh?” Connor asked dumbly as his processors short circuited at the sight of Hank removing his shirt.

While he knew he had limitations, he thought himself more infallible than to have his system threaten to reset because he saw the object of his affections shirtless. By the time his mind could catch up, Hank was undressing him too.

“We'll sixtynine,” Hank rushed. 

Soon they were both stripped naked with Hank laying on the bed and Connor hovering over him, perfectly cute erection and balls dangling over his mouth. He was never one to just receive while never giving back. He liked servicing almost always more than being serviced in his experience.

“You okay with this?” Hank asked, making sure Connor at least got what he was asking for. 

While it was far from Hank's first time, it was for Connor. As he aged, he realized that the first time he was with a new person felt like it was his first time ever.. Each time was as special as you made it and this thing with Connor made him feel like a straight virgin again.

Connor simply nodded and Hank couldn't help the snort that came out of his mouth. “You, being speechless? Looks like there's a first for everything, huh?

The dim atmospheric lighting from the floor lamp was enough for Hank to see the blue blush dust Connor's skin. He looked like a fucking Renaissance painting.

“I just really like you and I'm excited to do this finally,” Connor said, voice low and full of vulnerability.

Hank knew logically that he was in love with Connor, but this was the exact moment that Hank realized that he couldn't visualize a life without Connor. It didn't matter that nearly a year ago he was actively yearning for his death for a chance to see Cole again; not when since meeting Connor, he felt like life was worth living again.

Instead of fucking up the moment or maybe losing his boner, he licked along the side of Connor's cock before taking the tip and sucking gently. The way Connor’s hips bucked as he moaned let him know he was doing a good enough job. Maybe all those years of solitude made him eager to please. Even if he hadn't been with a man in a long time, the mechanics, he found, were still the same. He wasn't necessarily a dick sucking champ back in his day, but he knew what he liked to be done to him and it seemed like Connor liked the same thing.

Even if Connor was too enthralled with his first time to do anything other than weakly grip at Hank's cock, he couldn't help but be charmed. Connor’s was a nice little mouthful, so he didn't mind when Connor began to thrust erratically. Once he felt he could multitask, he brought Connor into him deeper and began to palm at his ass. There wasn't much for Hank to grip onto, but he never cared about that. Not when what he was grabbing into was Connor.

When his finger prodded over the wet entrance of Connor's hole, he couldn't help the moan that echoed in his throat and vibrated throughout Connor's dick. Without warning, a sweet, slightly sticky substance filled his mouth. If he wasn't so enthralled in what he was already doing then he might have choked on it. He continued sucking for a second before the realization of Connor having his first orgasm hit him like a freight train. 

Without meaning to, his knot popped around nothing and he came untouched, partially hitting Connor in the face and spilling over his hands that desperately tried to tighten around his knot. Hank felt like an absolute creep at the fact that Connor’s hands struggled to connect around the fist-sized knot. Through it all, he couldn’t help but prod Connor further, adding another finger into his hole and scissoring. The pretty noises coming from Connor didn’t help to deter him, either. 

Connor lost count of the amount of orgasms that Hank so generously supplied before his knot went down and Connor felt good enough to let go. 

“It’s a wonder that I didn’t shut down,” Connor panted, his internal fan whirring into overdrive in an attempt to keep him stable. Warning signs danced across his vision and he couldn’t think of a reason to really care.

“Too much?” Hank smiled sheepishly, winching at the amount of mess he would have to clean up. 

Messiness came with the territory of great sex, he would never complain about that, but he would forever lament the fact that most of the mess was his. Because he often licked someone to completion, he was able to catch what came out of them, him, not so much. Still, what just occurred was an anomaly since he’d never come untouched before.

Maybe he was really getting old.

“Not at all, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I would like to do that again.” Connor had rolled over onto his back.

Hank couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was. His heart was racing for an entirely different reason. Why did he ever let himself go so long without doing something about it, about them ? “I’ll take that as a compliment then. Any complaints?”

“No; although, I wish I could have sucked your dick instead of just receiving.”

And Hank couldn’t help the laughing fit that sent him into. As much as he gave Connor shit for the way he talked, the alternative was arguably worse. Maybe not worse, but definitely not preferable.

“What?” Connor snipped, looking vulnerable.

And even annoyed, he looked so pretty with the tinge of blue flushing his cheeks and the top of his shoulders. If Connor was born human and Hank had met him even 10 years ago, everything could have been so different for him. He’d never regret where life had led him now though, not when he got to experience Cole and meeting Connor after.

“There’s nothing wrong with receiving for your first time. I like knowing you felt so good you couldn't concentrate on anything other than me. If you couldn't tell, I enjoyed you even without your reciprocation.”

That seemed to calm him.

“You didn’t even have to hold my knot, although it did feel better knowing you wanted to touch some part of me, no matter how rough I look.”

Connor squinted at him, obviously deciding which topic he should tackle first. 

“Doesn’t it hurt when your knot expands with nothing around it, like a mouth or orifice of some sort?”

Now it was Hank’s turn to squint. “No. That’s some bullshit that skeevy alphas feed to inexperienced omegas to coerce them into sex. It’s kind of like blue balls, it’s not real.”

After a brief search, Connor realized that the porn he’d been watching probably wasn’t the most reputable source of information on the subject of sex. Unfortunately for him, he was no better than a human. His insatiable lust and desire for Hank led him to research with his dick rather than his brain. 

“Where did you even hear that?” Hank asked, shuffling out of bed to find something to wipe himself down with. They’d laid in the afterglow enough for him to begin feeling sticky and gross.

Connor debated lying, but decided against it. Hank had promised to give them a fair shot and he wanted to do the same.

“I may have seen a few videos online.” Connor refused to elaborate.

“Oh my God,” Hank snorted as he hauled his boxers up. “You watch porn?”

“I didn’t say the type of videos!”

“What other videos could you have possibly seen? There’s no shame in it. We all do it.”

That was just it, everyone else was supposed to do it, but not androids like Connor who were just meant to complete complex tasks. “I began watching them before the announcement. I kept imagining us in place of whoever was on the screen.”

Instead of continuing to tease him, Hank offered a fond smile and handed Connor the towel, collecting his clothes for him. “I guess you’ve always really liked me, huh?”

When Connor nodded, he could feel his heart swell in his chest so full it was threatening to burst at the seams. Once they were dressed, Hank laid back down and pulled Connor to rest on his arm near his chest. If he was going to become sappy in his old age, he was going to go full out.

“I really like you too, Con, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

"When did you realize you liked me?" Connor asked, snuggling in further into Hank's armpit. 

Thank God he'd never been ticklish, he didn't have the heart nor the willpower to ever push Connor away from him, especially now when they were having their first heart to heart as potential romantic partners.

"When the Traci's ran away together after the altercation at the Eden club," Hank muttered into his silky soft hair.

Connor froze, clearly not expecting an honest, or even a fast, answer. The Hank of a few weeks ago would have coughed up an embarrassed laugh and changed the subject, but it was hard to keep your wits when the world's cutest almost omega was at your side and vulnerable.

If the army couldn't keep Connor at bay, who was Hank to try?

"If we're being honest-" 

"And we are," Connor looked up at Hank with an intensity he'd only seen a few times before.

"Then it was earlier than that. I don't remember exactly when," Hank pinched Connors nose in between his forefinger and middle finger in an attempt to stop him from interrupting, "so I can't tell you that, but I think I knew for sure then."

Connor smiled and then had the audacity to laugh the cutest laugh that Hank had ever been privileged to hear. It annoyed him to no end that Connor didn't need his nose to speak and he sounded perfectly fine and not nasally at all. "You weren't even a deviant at that point! You probably hadn't even discovered your own dick yet."

"I was well aware of my phallic equipment, Hank." Connor swatted his hand away before pushing himself up on his elbows.

Hank's heartbeat quickened. Seeing Connor with his usually kept hair tousled and messy in all its glory really did something to him. He used to hate how Connor could scan him and probably figure out exactly what was happening inside his no-doubtedly alcohol damaged brain; but knowing how averse he was to his own feelings, it was probably for the best.

"You know what I mean."

"Is that also why you pointed your gun at me, to provoke a reaction out of me? See if I was deviant enough to know?” As much as Connor tried, he couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Hank looked up at Connor and was rendered speechless at how pretty Connor was, lit in only the very dim light of his cool blue LED and the street lighting that bled through the windows.. 

“I love you.”

Hank didn’t even care that he hadn’t meant to say it; how fast they’d gone from “like” to “love” in zero to lightspeed. That was the problem with Hank, he’d always work himself up so much to do the first step that he ended up with steps 1-5 complete all at the same time. It wasn’t always bad, and usually it worked out for him, but he wished he had more self control. With Connor though, it was hard to hold himself back. Mortality was such a fragile thing, even for androids that Hank knew the little time he had left was precious. The last thing he wanted to do was delay anything good that could come about between them.

“I love you more,” Connor looked down at him and kissed him gently on his nose.

The rest of the night was spent having a conversation that Hank thought he’d never have after the age of 13, who loved each other more, before Hank couldn’t fight his biology to sleep any longer. Connor promised not to stare at him and go into stasis, but he couldn’t help but look just for a little bit.

He really did love everything about Hank. The fine lines and wrinkles that weren’t so deep when he slept. The way that his hairs seemed to alternate between pure white and strands of gray, or even how the longer that his hair got the more of a wave there seemed to be. How his shampoo was the cheapest thing he could find at the drugstore and it still worked well with his scent. How he smiled at Sumo when he was breaking the rules or even how with no money left to spare, he took in a wayward criminal android and decided that he would love it.

How could Connor not peek, even for a few minutes?

*

The changes were slower and more frustrating that Connor anticipated they would be. While he could smell and his scent started coming in a bit more, his mood seemed to be all over the place. Even if it was a stereotype, Connor was a very logical person. To an extent, he still was, except when it came to the topic of his boyfriend. 

As Connor’s ability to smell got stronger, he could no longer only smell Hank, but others as well, including others with scents on top of them that weren’t their own. It was confusing at first, but he quickly got the hang of it when he realized typically lovers or families wore each other's scents for a variety of reasons. That didn’t mean it didn’t overwhelm him, nor did it mean that he liked to smell scents on others. Maybe his sense of smell was stronger because of how he was made, but even a brief encounter was enough for Connor to smell lingering traces of scents on people.

It came in handy for detective work, but not so much in his romantic life. Due to Hank’s age and how busy they’d been with cases, they hadn’t had much of a chance to explore their sex life. It didn’t bother him, or at least, he didn’t think it did until Hank came home one day from an impromptu visit to the grocery store. Typically they did house stuff together, but this time Hank ran out while Connor was in stasis.

“Where were you?” Connor asked as Hank walked in through the door and into the kitchen where Connor was preparing for breakfast.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Hank teased as he kissed Connor’s cheek. “Sumo needed food and I needed to pick up thirium too.”

It wasn’t like Hank couldn’t go to the grocery store himself, but Connor had one very particular reason that he hated Hank going out alone. Hank was a magnet for older women. Omega, beta, alpha, it didn’t matter, they all seemed to be attracted to him at first sight. The worst part about it was that he couldn’t even blame them, Hank was that attractive and with all of the work that he was putting into himself, it was only making others want him more. Specifically, the pretty middle-aged manager that always found a way to flirt with Hank anytime he went to check out at their usual grocery store. It was awfully convenient that anytime they went, every cashier had a break around the time it was Hank’s turn to check out, leaving her to be the only one to cover. It bothered him to no end that she would lean over and laugh at all of his stupid jokes. 

Not one living person on earth thought “if it doesn’t scan, it’s free!” was funny. Especially not when it was the 50th time they were hearing it.

“You left me,” Connor mumbled, feeling betrayed.

“What?” Hank called out, placing Connor’s thirium in the fridge.

That’s when the scent of baked vanilla bread hit him. The feeling of betrayal felt like a hot searing knife to his pump.

“You left me!” Connor pouted. “You left me here so you could talk to your little girlfriend in peace without me there to hover over you!”

Hank went so completely still that Connor questioned reality for a second. The last thing that Connor expected from Hank was concern written all over his face. He could deal with belligerence, anger, and hell, even guilt, but not whatever gentle expression he had on.

“Are you okay, Con? What is going on with you?” Hank stepped towards him and Connor took a step back.

“Don’t touch me,” Connor hissed.

“Watch it,” Hank’s voice lowered in warning. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

Connor had never wanted to cry as much as he did in that moment. Hank never got mad at him in any real capacity and he’d been so emotional lately that he was sure it felt worse than it actually was.

“What happened?” Hank slowly took another step.

“You smell like her.” Connor whispered just loudly enough for Hank to hear.

Hank shrugged off his jacket and stepped to the backdoor to let his scent out as much as he could. Right now it didn’t matter if Connor had been acting out or taking things out on him, all that mattered was making sure Connor felt secure. It was second nature to Hank, so much so that he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Almost immediately, Connor visibly relaxed and slumped against the wall, utterly depleted.

“I won’t go out without you again,” Hank sighed, “but you can’t just be passive aggressive at me when I don’t deserve it, Con.”

Connor continued to slump until he reached the floor where he curled up against himself and wrapped his arms around his shins. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

Alarm bells went off in Hank’s head as his instincts kicked back in. Within seconds Hank was on his knees and by Connor’s side as he tried to figure out what was going on. The second that he touched Connor and heard his fans whir, he knew what he was looking at.

“Holy shit, Con. I think you’re in pre-heat.”

That’s when it all clicked for him. Like a switch, Connor unfurled himself and stood up, dusting himself off. “That makes sense, if you’ll excuse me I have some research to do.”

As he turned around, Hank grabbed his arm and yanked him back down to the floor. 

“You’re not about to make me get on the floor and then just leave. We’re talking about this now.”

Connor couldn’t help but laugh. He knew Hank was about 58% joking. “I’m kind of scared,” he admitted. 

One thing about having extraordinary predictability and research skills meant that Connor, at any point in time, usually knew what was happening or what would happen as a consequence of whatever clues he had at the time. Now that he was a deviant, he found that experiencing those consequences was a new skill that he hadn’t yet developed.

“Do you want to stop? We still have time.”

If Connor was ever sure about anything in his life, it was three things. 

1. He loved Hank Anderson for all that he was.
2. Saving the fish was the right thing to do, even if it didn’t impact him in any way and he would forever lead his life by the principle of doing good even if it didn’t benefit him.
3. He wanted to be an omega.

Shaking his head, he kissed Hank’s forehead, earning him a pretty blush. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Then,” Hank settled down onto his butt and crossed his legs over each other. “Let’s do this, right here right now.”

“Do what?” Connor laughed, feeling better than he did a few minutes ago. How could he ever think that Hank would step out on him or betray him in any way when he was sitting on their “hard ass floor” as Hank called it, despite knowing what it would do to his back later, just to talk Connor through his fears?

“About your heat. We have to plan it out anyway so you’re not freaking out the entire time.”

“Is there anything to talk about? I go into heat, you knot me, end of story right?”

It took everything in Hank not to sigh or roll his eyes. In theory, yes, that’s all it was, but realistically and logistically there was a lot more to it. They both had to put in leave requests at work, make sure that there were ready made meals and water available to them for them their lucidity kicks in, make sure Sumo was with a reliable babysitter or kennel, ensure that someone was brave enough to reach them in person should disaster strike, and other things that Connor didn’t have the experience to think about beforehand.

As much as Hank wanted to lay everything out and figure it out before his back gave out, he didn’t want to overwhelm Connor, so he set those topics aside to let him stew for a bit before bringing up a more fun topic.

“Plus, I don’t want your first time having sex to be while you’re delirious and in pain during heat. So far, all of your symptoms have been consistent with a biological omega, so it might be better for us to be together sooner rather than later.”

“I’m in,” Connor said, a little too fast.

They both got a laugh out of that. It’d been years since Hank laughed so hard he cried. Because they both had a shift coming up, they decided to try the next day when they had a much needed day off and Hank could set up emergency care for Sumo. Hank claimed that he would need to have a day to recover and Connor couldn’t help but feel relieved that he had the chance to prepare himself for it. Whoever said that planning sex wasn’t sexy was dead wrong because the anticipation that was building inside Connor was enough to make him combust.

So much so that the next day during his desk time, he spoke with Nines via the telepathic connection they made when they first interfaced. They didn’t do it often, but Connor couldn’t contain himself. Ever since they both got the announcement he wanted to ask if Nines would allow the change to become an alpha since he was much “newer” to life than Connor was. To everyone else it looked like they were hard at work, but only they would know how annoyed Nines was and how over eager Connor was.

Nines!

Connor.

Are you presenting?

That is hardly an appropriate topic for workplace conversation. 

Do we have to have a talk with HR again?

I’m fully embracing this new “season of life” as humans would refer to it. 

I’m excited to embark on this journey with Hank.

Not another word. 

I don’t need to know about your sex life.

Well, that’s the thing. 

We haven’t really had sex in the traditional sense.

Nines didn’t speak for a few seconds, but it felt like millenia to Connor.

I know I’m going to regret asking.

But what the hell do you mean “traditional?”

You either have sex or you don’t.

I understand that, but once you get down to it, it can be a gray area.

?

Explain.

Well, there’s other forms of pleasure, including oral sex.

Semantics.

Sex is sex. 

It doesn’t always involve penetration or even physicality.

Connor was thrown aback. He didn’t take Nines for knowing so much about human sexuality. He would be surprised frankly if he had been with anyone, let alone Gavin.

So you’ve had sex? Penetrative?

My partner has regular heats.

You’re supposed to be an expensive detective model.

You can figure out the rest.

Before Connor could ask, both he and Hank were assigned to a case. Without a goodbye, Connor leapt from his desk and fell in line next to Hank as they left for the car. Maybe the conversation wasn’t exactly what Connor was expecting, but he was happy to know that he wasn’t alone. Other models were going through the same things that he was, even if they didn’t really talk about it.

No one at Jericho was given the option to present and he didn’t feel quite comfortable interfacing with anyone about this, especially not when his memories of Hank in compromising positions tied so close that it could potentially be seen by others. He could admit he was jealous and possessive, but it was his right.

Hank was destined to be his mate, afterall.

*

Connor was scared.

When he first developed emotion, he knew that logically there would be many different kinds, but he didn’t realize that there were levels of intensities or even more ranges within each emotion. Scared didn’t always mean an intense fear for your life, it could just mean you’re nervous to be knotted for the first time despite not being able to feel pain.

Only a had passed since their talk and agreement and Connor wanted to both crawl under his synthskin and jump Hank's bones at the same time. To be alive was to suffer; but it also meant the most rewarding and indescribable happiness imaginable. Maybe it was worth it when things weren’t so good when you knew they were just going to get better again.

Hank was worth it.

While he promised Hank he wouldn’t scan him anymore, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t do it too often, nor did he do it when he was concerned about Hank, but more so when he was nervous and needed to ground himself. Anxiety was such a curious emotion and the more he tried to seek logic in it the less it made sense. He learned pretty quickly not to question his coping techniques if it wasn’t hurting anyone, and if the way he coped was listening to his boyfriend’s steady heartbeat, then so be it.

To his absolute surprise, Hank’s heart rate was elevated. Not in any way that was of concern, but enough for Connor to smile.

“Nervous?” Hank smiled.

And even if Connor had seen it more often, the little gap in his front teeth never failed to make him swoon.

“Yeah, stupid, huh?” Connor chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he picked up from Hank.

“Nah, I’m pretty anxious about it too.”

Connor shifted from his position on their bed, getting on his knees and sitting back on his calves. “Why? You’ve done this before at least once.”

That got a laugh out of Hank and Connor felt he was getting better at being “relaxed,” whatever that meant. 

“Yeah, I’ve done it at least once, but I haven’t done it in a long time, or with an android. It’s different every time. Special.”

And that made Connor feel better by leaps and bounds. He didn’t have a problem with Hank having partners before him. What he feared was being a lackluster experience for Connor. He would like anything if it was with Hank, but he wasn’t so sure if the reverse was true. 

“Then, since we’re both nervous,” Connor removed his shirt a little too eagerly before flinging it across their room, “let’s take this slow, like we always do.”

“If you don’t like anything-” Hank started.

“Just holler. Yeah, I get it.” Connor bit his lip after rolling his eyes.

“Cheeky brat,” Hank chided playfully as he yanked Connor up and swatted him on the ass. 

“Oh,” Connor said breathily. “I like that.”

“Yes? Well, there’s more where that came from.”

Before long, Connor laid bare beneath him with stars in his eyes and a cerulean flush that made Hank feel like he was enveloped in the warm ocean currents. How he ended up so lucky he  will never know, but what he was sure of, was that this was forever. 

“I want to see you too,” Connor pulled up at Hank’s shirt until it was off. “Pretty.”

Hank couldn’t help the goofy smile on his face. “You got some cheek.”

Maybe he wasn’t always the best with his words, but he was skilled with his mouth and his hands. Was it cheating when Connor could tune up the sensitivity on any area that Hank focused on? Maybe, but that was part of the fun. He loved seeing how sucking on one of Connor’s nipples for a few seconds made him pant, or running his hands down his abdomen made Connor’s dick leak like a fountain. 

More than anything, he loved how Connor gave as good as he got. He wasn’t afraid to really touch or grope Hank. Nothing was off limits and maybe he liked it a little more than he thought he would. It felt nice to be desired even at his old age. Connor wasn’t a kid, he wasn’t with Hank because he didn’t know better, but because he truly wanted Hank and everything he had to offer. He’d seen him at his lowest and stuck around, if that wasn’t true love then he didn’t know what was.

“Con, I love you. Ready?” Hank kissed him on the nose.

Connor nodded and hugged him tight. Even after all this time, he felt like he was doing it again for the first time ever. He and Connor had taken their time with pleasuring each other, so it felt nice knowing this was just an extension of that where they could finally be connected as one. Not to be romantic, but it would bring them closer together. Knotting was a lot of things, but casual wasn’t one of them.

Just because Connor didn’t need to be stretched out didn’t mean that neither of them enjoyed it. It was almost better that way; instead of worrying about not stretching him out sufficiently or if he would tear at his poor fingering job. This way, Hank could enjoy Connor’s little moans and the way his hands would bunch up on the sheets around him as he looked for some type of purchase. 

Nothing made Hank feel better than seeing Connor come untouched or the way his back would arch beautifully. It was so intoxicating that his knot began to swell. Only Connor had the ability to do this to him and the brat knew, but damn it if it didn’t get Hank going. Some fucked up part of him couldn’t help but think that Connor was literally made to be an omega. He wasn’t originally programmed to be one, wasn’t really programmed to be a lot of the things he was now, but it only made Hank believe in bullshit like destiny that much more.

“Hank, please, I need you,” Connor reached his hands out and laced them behind Hank’s head.

“Little minx. I should be saying that to you.”

Kissing was their favorite part of being together. There was something special about it when there was no clear goal in mind. Kissing that led to sex and kissing because two people liked each other so much were different and they both found that sometimes, sex wasn’t everything. Sometimes they wouldn’t be in the mood to go further and that was okay.

This wasn’t one of those times.

Lining himself up, Connor pulled his legs back to his chest and bit his lip. He knew that it wouldn’t hurt, but that didn’t stop him from tensing up or anticipating what was to come. Hank was big, really big, and as much as Connor wanted it, he wondered if it would push past the limits of what an android could take before breaking.

Even if he did break, it would be worth it.

“Con,” Hank nudged his head against Connor’s entrance. “Where’dya go?”

Snapping out of his own thoughts, his self lubrication poured out, making him shiver. “Sorry, I’m here now.”

Hank leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Ready?”

Before Connor could nod, Hank pushed about halfway in. If Connor had lungs they would have deflated in an instant. He’d expected a lot,  but he hadn’t expected to be so full . Tears collected at the corner of his eyes and he nodded, prompting Hank to keep going. 

Hank wasn’t fairing much better. The second he was fully sheathed he had to fight the urge to rut against Connor until his knot popped. It was hard keeping control when you were inside the person that you loved and they felt so damned good . Both Hank’s breath and Connor’s fans battled for what was louder and as the seconds ticked by, Hank felt like he’d regained more control.

One shallow thrust turned to two turned to pulling out nearly completely and pushing back in in  one swift motion. The staticky whines and moans that emitted from Connor was a turn on Hank never thought would get him going. Normally he was angry when the limited tech he did use glitched, but when it was Connor he couldn’t help but be flattered.

There was no better feeling in the universe than watching the person you love feel good. As Hank found a steady pace, he couldn’t help but take in how pretty Connor was beneath him, all arched back and tensed toes. He didn’t know that androids could feel so much pleasure, but he was glad he’d be the only one who ever got to experience Connor’s. It wasn’t easy for him to control himself, but as his knot began to extend and Connor began to babble, he realized he wasn’t going to hold on for much longer. 

It was only a few more pumps before Hank’s knot popped and he was spilling inside Connor. Even after expanding he continued grinding into Connor’s used hole, drawing long ropes of spend out of Connor. When Connor pressed down and wouldn’t stop, Hank tried calming him down.

“I’m so h-hot, Hank!” Connor whined, pulling Hank down onto him with his full body weight. 

If Connor wasn’t nearly indestructible Hank might have worried about crushing him. Sometimes it was nice to not have to worry about his weight or how big he’d gotten. Sometimes, it was nice to know that Connor accepted him as he was and not hoping to rehabilitate him into the person he once was.

“Sweetheart, I think it’s time. I think you’re presenting,” Hank cradled his head. 

Connor’s synthskin retracted where they touched and as his temperature climbed, more of it fell away. Hank couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. 

All his life, Hank’s stupid alpha buddies always said sleeping with omegas in heat was the easiest thing ever. With little to no effort, omegas would orgasm and everyone was happy, similar to how it was for alphas in rut. Besides being the skeeviest thing he’d ever heard, that just simply wasn’t true.

It was always harder to wake up from a rut you dealt with alone rather than having a partner who could help you through it. When no one was making sure he had food nearby in a lucid state or helping him feel comforted and protected, he often emerged from a rut feeling oddly vulnerable and worse for wear. It wasn’t easy to be satiated and he needed more than just a hole to knot. Even if he’d never been with an omega in heat, he knew they would need the same thing.

Connor didn’t need to only be fucked, but to know that he was cared for. The courting gifts of Hank’s old and current clothes, never allowing Connor to stray too far, especially during shifts, scenting him even if they’re not leaving the house for more than a walk around the block with Sumo, but most importantly showing him that losing control of himself didn’t have to be terrifying when he had someone who was there to protect him.

Someone who wouldn’t be disgusted or grossed out with him in his barest form. Maybe Hank was a failure of a human being with a drinking problem, but he would be the best alpha and partner he could be to Connor. Losing everything made him doubt himself, helping Connor through his presentation helped him realize that he still had some fight left in him. He wanted to be good, for himself, but mostly for Connor. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, let go. I got you,” Hank whispered.

Connor fought for a few seconds longer before going limp in Hank’s arms and surrendering himself to the final steps of his presentation. Before releasing himself completely, he couldn’t help but think about how perfectly it all turned out.

*

Everyone’s timeline for presenting was different. Those with stable partners seemed to present faster than those with budding relationships like Connor or Nines. As much as Nines hated to admit it, they were more alike than different and the weekend they both returned to work they both had fully formed second genders. Oddly enough, neither pair had to defend their relationships, but Gavin was teased relentlessly about hiding the fact that he was an omega.

Nines only let it go on for so long before he began to threaten people's lives. He wasn’t against anyone teasing his mate, but he did have a problem with Gavin trying to kill everyone when they were supposed to be working. 

The last thing that Hank expected was for Jeffery to congratulate him. They’d been friends for such a long time that when he became a boss and had to come down harder on Hank during the difficult times of his life, Hank began to withdraw. Technically he wasn’t supposed to be dating those with a lower rank than him at work, but Jeffery would look the other way, especially if it would get Hank to come to work regularly and on time.

Everything was perfect.

Well, as perfect as it could be.

A few weeks after they’d officially spent Connor’s first heat together and became mates officially, Connor tried his hand at leaving for a gathering with Jericho alone for the first time since the revolution. He knew it wasn’t healthy for them to spend so much time together, so while it was hard for him to let Connor go, he decided to make himself busy with clearing out the second room. As much as he wanted Connor to sleep with him in their room, Connor deserved an area to nest aggressively in and to lay his head in during his heat or times of distress. 

There wasn't a world in which Hank would ever give away all of Cole's things. He was a lot of things and a sentimental old fool was one of them. Cole would forever be his baby and his first pair of socks, the outfit he was dressed in when he left the hospital, and his favorite stuffed giraffe would always have a place in their home. It was hard to give up his clothes initially, but he knew that others who had less than he did could use them.

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed Connor arrive back at home. It was the nervous twinge of anxiety to his scent that alerted him. 

“Can we talk?” Connor asked, avoiding eye contact.

The Hank of a few months ago would have panicked and thought that this was the end, but the Hank of now knew better. It wasn't always about him, sometimes his boyfriend just needed some reassuring.

“Course, sweetheart.”

It was always the dining room table that they ended up having their most serious conversations at. Maybe it was because there was a place for them to look at each other with the safety of a small physical barrier between them that help shield them both from any vulnerabilities the talk may have. Hank wasn't really a talky-feely type of guy, but for Connor, he could be anything.

“I can't have kids,” Connor began.

Hank nodded, waiting for Connor to elaborate. Seconds stretched into a full minute with Connor growing increasingly antsy before Hank realized that was it.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Was that a statement? A question?”

Connor flipped his coin in between his fingers, a habit Hank had noticed he slowed down in recently.

“Is that something you're okay with?”

“Yes,” Hank said without pause. “Even if you were human and couldn't have kids, it's not a deal breaker. After Cole, I don't think I can do it again. I'm too old now and he was it for me.”

Connor nodded, looking visibly relieved.

“Are kids something you want?” Hank asked.

Perhaps it was something they should have discussed prior. The best time was before they decided to go through Connor's presentation together, the second best time was now. No matter how the conversation went though, Connor would never regret becoming an omega even if he lost Hank.

“I'm kind of disappointed I'll never get to experience procreation with you, but it's not something that devastates me. Besides, I already have a child,” Connor smiled as he pointed to Sumo who was snoozing away on the floor next to the couch.

The snort that came out of Hank's mouth threw them both off and after a second of staring, they both dissolved into a fit of giggles, promptly waking Sumo. While he wasn't too pleased about that, the treats that Hank gave him as an apology seemed to quell him.

“Then it's settled. Non-Human kids from here until we expire.” Hank held out his hand.

Connor couldn't wipe the grin off his face when he shook Hank's hand firmly and pulled them both up and into an embrace. As they hugged, Hank couldn't help but notice how soft the junction of Connor's neck was; a far cry from the hard chassis that usually covered it. 

Before he could think twice, he reached up and pulled Connor's white button up to the side in confusion.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I got a little bit of a modification done,” Connor smiled shyly. “Hank, I want to bear your mark and be bonded to you forever.”

Hank was so surprised that he couldn't even begin to fathom what was happening. One second Connor was holding him and the next he was down on his knee, holding up a ring that looked like it was built of the very thing that made Connor.

“I know I can't mark you back and android marriages aren't yet legal, but I want to claim you in every sense of the word. Will you belong to me forever the same way I belong to you?”

When he looked back at that particular memory, Hank couldn't recall when he ended up on his old busted up knees and bawling his eyes out, nor could he remember how long it took him to say yes. All he remembered was Connor cradling him in his arms and Sumo trying to comfort him.

Never in his life did he think he would be proposed to, but with Connor it made sense. He was the most possessive person Hank knew and he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to be happy for the rest of his short life.

Interspecies android marriage wouldn't be legalized for another 15 years, but that didn't matter to either of them, not when Connor wore Hank's mark on his neck proudly after a private moment between the two of them after Connor's next heat where their cycles synced up like a real bonded couples should. Connor couldn't imagine a better bonding experience, safe in his nest surrounded by the things he loved the most. 

All of the courting gifts Hank had purchased surrounded him, from the blankets strung against the wall forming a canopy above the bed to old and new clothes alike scented every week and placed back in their designated spot. Pictures of Cole and his favorite items covered the room with Sumo’s old collars thrown about. While it was messy (by Connor's standards) Hank could see that it was delightfully organized in a way that only made sense to Connor.

And that was fine. Great even.

It was their space. Theirs meaning that all Hank needed was Connor, so the rest didn't matter as long as he had his purring omega in his arms at the end of the night. 

The promise ceremony they had was the first of its kind among interspecies couples. Markus officiated a little “wedding” for them where Hank promised himself to Connor, bite or no bite, and adorned the band that Connor proposed to him with. Just because they couldn't form a traditional bond didn't mean that they still didn't have one, albeit a bit unconventional. That's what made them who they were and neither of them would have it any other way.

It also didn't stop Connor from taking a cartoonishly big bite out of Hank’s scent gland to mark the end of their promise ceremony and the beginning of their reception. The reception was more android than human, but small either way. Nines and Gavin mostly spent their time at the bar while Hank surprisingly danced around with those he was closest to on the force like Jeffery or Chris. Connor excitedly talked to Kara and Luther who brought Alice down from Canada to have fun during their special day.

It couldn’t have been more perfect when they drove home in Hank’s old car and settled into their nest after a shower at Connor’s insistence. Even Sumo got to join them for the first time since its inception. As tired as they were, they always managed to talk to each other for a few minutes before Hank began to snore and the hazy feeling of stasis began to pull at Connor’s vision.

“So,” Connor began as he held Hank’s hand in the darkness of their nest, calm blue light the only thing to light the room. This is what it’s going to be like for the rest of our lives?”

“No take backs,” Hank said, voice gravelly with sleep.

Many moons ago, the light of Connor’s LED didn’t allow him to sleep very well, but now he couldn’t imagine heading to bed without it to wash the vision behind Hank’s closed eyelids.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”