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The accuracy coefficient of any given preconstruction could be determined using a simple formula, of which one of the most pivotal variables is the amount and quality of contextual data about the construction obtained. Or, as Hank would say "in human speak", the more Connor knew about a given situation, the more likely he could correctly predict the outcome.
At a crime scene, Connor could observe the evidence still present and extrapolate about potential missing clues, detect falsehood or honesty in a witness testimony, make logical connections between disparate incidents, and a variety of other useful functions. Reconstruction was his specialty, but when it came to preconstruction, he still had a lot to learn.
Which is why, even given his considerable contextual data gathered on Hank, Connor wasn't expecting him to react as... unpredictably to his inquiry as he had. They'd been sitting at the kitchen table, Hank consuming take out with only slightly less fat and sodium than he would have if Connor weren't with him, and Connor thought it might be a good time to approach a topic that had been preconstructed over and over in Connor's mind palace for the better part of a month.
"Hank," He'd been given strict orders not to call him Lieutenant while off duty since they had developed their friendship. "Do you find me sexually appealing?" He'd waited specifically until Hank was between bites to ask so that the risk of choking would be lower and he would be able to answer in an expedient manner. Instead, Hank blinked slowly at him before shoving another floret of broccoli in his mouth and chewing slowly.
When he swallowed, he set down the container and put his hands on the table, like he needed the support.
If he were talking to a human he'd probably handle it differently, but in the months since the revolution, Hank had learned to take very specific approaches with Connor in order to avoid misunderstandings. "Why do you want to know that?" he asked evenly, trying not to let his exasperation or whatever other emotions he might be feeling leak into the words.
Connor saw right through it, but chose not to comment. "Because I was curious. As you know I've been developing a sense of taste and I realized that I don't know what yours are like." That was only partially true. Connor wanted to know because he'd decided that his taste was Hank , and he suspected that the sentiment might be returned, but wasn't sure how best to proceed. Hank hadn't shown more than casual sexual interest in anyone at all since Connor had first met him in Jimmy's Bar, so he didn't have enough data to draw conclusions from. Not yet.
Apparently he'd also miscalculated about the gravity of this topic, because Hank had completely forgotten about his food and was staring at Connor, open mouthed. After a moment he seemed to collect himself and frowned. "Well, you know what my ex wife looks like." He pointed out, and only Connor's machine reflexes allowed him to mask the wince that particular topic evoked in him. He'd decided that it was the android form of jealousy, after some consideration.
Connor pressed on. "That's one person, and it doesn’t answer my question. If I really wanted to I could probably do a facial recognition scan of some of your photo albums and spot others. But that's... not what I wanted to know." Connor looked away, giving into the temptation to grab his coin. He didn't flick it, not right now, but the smooth but studded curve of it was a comfort. And an excuse to look away. Connor himself had once remarked how interesting it was that deviants had the same urge to break eye contact as humans when they were avoiding a topic. Ironic that his own remark would likely expose him now.
Hank looked mollified, or perhaps just exasperated, at Connor's morose tone. "I- I like a lot of things, okay? I was never too picky even before my ex wife, and after that it wasn't much of a problem. If I have preferences like that, I haven't thought about it in a while." The results of the scan for veracity Connor did on that answer were inconclusive- it was probably a combination of the truth and fiction, or Hank himself didn't know the answer and that was as close as he would get. Either way, Connor nodded.
"I understand Lieutenant..." He said. Suddenly the sound of Sumo's claws on the back door made Hank jump, while the android simply stood to let him inside. The muddy conditions outside meant that the Saint Bernard tracked mud into the kitchen and towards the living room before the moisture was thoroughly spent and the mud remained only on Sumo himself. Connor made a mental note to mop it up later. Hank sighed.
"I like... men, too. If that's what you were getting at." Connor had thought that Hank would jump at the opportunity to change the topic, so he was a little surprised that he'd chosen to elaborate. The smile he beamed in return seemed equally startling to Hank.
"Yes, that is helpful. Thank you." The words themselves were like something he might have said much earlier in their relationship, but the playful teasing in his tone was something they'd developed more recently. Instead of returning to his own chair, Connor came to the table on Hank's side, setting down a hand on the flat surface and leaning on it.
Hank looked alarmed, distrustful, critical of the glean in the other man's eyes. At first someone who met him might think Connor was sweet, innocent, even gullible. It was little more than an act designed to disarm whomever he was speaking with, before he went in for the strike. The few times they'd fought Hank learned that the hard way. Emotionally distraught and computing at several billion billion operations per second, not only did he know how to cut, but he knew how to do it quickly .
Not that Hank didn't trust Connor- he did. But the mischievous streak the android had fostered since his deviancy was downright dangerous and Hank was concerned for both of their well beings if it went too far unchecked. Still, a little proximity wasn't actually that much cause for alarm. If Connor was going to kick his ass for some reason, he'd probably deserve it. He wasn't sure what else Connor could be doing. He firmly told the part of his brain offering helpful, illustrated suggestions to simmer down.
Connor leered . "Lieutenant... You never answered my question. I already deduced you might find some men appealing. What I'm asking is..." Connor used a hand to tilt Hank's face up towards him, and despite himself, Hank allowed it. When he was looking into those brown eyes, he couldn't remember exactly what the question was. Oh right. Connor was about to tell him.
"Will you kiss me, Hank?" It was like all the air went out of the room at once. The line replayed mentally while he tried to process it. Okay. That was exactly what Hank's subconscious might say. Was he asleep? He floundered for what felt like hours but was probably only a few seconds before heaving in a breath and answering.
"...Maybe." Connor looked stricken, perhaps because it wasn't the yes he'd been so sure he'd get, or perhaps because it wasn't one of the potential outcomes he'd predicted. Either way, Hank used the momentary confusion to push his chinese food aside and stand, placing them nearly nose to nose and very much in each other's personal bubbles. Connor had come fully aware of what comfortable and uncomfortable proximity felt like, but he'd learned a bit more about when it was okay to break those protocols, too. He knew, now, that he didn't want to step back to create space between them. Not when Hank's eyes looked like that, glinting and sharp, every bit the clever detective he was.
Hank was the first to break, glancing down so his hands went where he intended, lightly on Connor's waist and pressing him back. They stepped once, twice, three times as if they were dancing. The result was Connor pressed lightly back against the counter and Hank looming above, touching but not too close yet, and he still had the look of a man piecing together a puzzle, not a passion struck lover. Connor tamped down the unpleasant feeling that made well up in him.
"Hey, don't look like that. I haven’t said no yet. But I wanna know why. Why me, why now? What's going on in that head of yours?" He asked, raising a hand to caress Connor's chin, tilt it up from where he'd begun to turn away. Hank's grip, both on his waist and on his jaw, were feather light. Even if they weren't, Connor could break him like a twig if he chose. This was a statement, something Hank wanted for this conversation. Connor could handle that. In fact, he was handling it particularly well, if the sharp arousal at their positions and proximity was anything to go by.
Still, the answers Hank wanted were not so easily given. As much time and energy as he'd spent trying to figure out how to get what he wanted, Connor hadn't thought much on his decision since he'd made it all those weeks ago. Such was the luxury of being a machine- once a mission was set, all you had to do was figure out how to succeed.
"I..." Connor's eyes flicked from Hank to the left, and back, before he leaned back against the counter. "I'm not sure. I just realized one day that I really wanted you- and not as a friend, I have other friends. I care so much more about what you think of me, I care about what happens to you so much. And I started thinking about how nice it would feel if you touched me. I was correct." Connor's hand came down on top of Hank's on his own waist, pressing in, giving him permission and encouragement all at once.
Hank blinked, taking it all in. Yet again his partner managed to render him speechless without any effort at all. Reed only wished he had the power to shut Hank up as effectively, though he'd certainly take offense to the methods Connor was currently employing. Connor wanted him. Not just as a curiosity. Not just for a quick fuck to see what the fuss was about. Not as a science experiment, or a friendly shag. Right? That's what it sounded like. Hank reviewed the potential that he was dreaming.
Hank's furst urge was denial- self denial and Connor's own. Connor didn't know better (But he was more than capable of making his own decisions). Connor was too young (Absurd, he was allowed to fight criminals and Hank wouldn't object to him having a relationship with anyone else). Connor was confused (He was much more rarely confused than Hank, and his LED had remained blissfully blue with only flecks of yellow). After a long moment, Connor fidgeted, impatient.
"Hank?" He asked, batting his eyes, and that was the final straw in Hank's restraint. His hand shifted to guide Connor's face to the correct angle while he responded in mirror. It had been a while, but you didn't forget things like this. Connor's lips, when they touched, were as perfect as the rest of him- smooth and skinlike, warm, and even the facsimile of breath was perfect. Even better was that it was Connor- his partner, his best friend, and now, perhaps even more than that. Maybe.
It was a chaste kiss, Hank not willing to push too far too fast. He was too old for that, and Connor was inexperienced if nothing else. The quiet between them was only awkward for a beat before Hank pulled the android against him into a warm hug. "Okay. That's what I needed to know." He murmured, and Sumo made an interested noise from the living room. Hank chuckled as they parted and the dog was standing nearby. Apparently if they had time to stand around, they had time to feed him.
Hank set about retrieving the bowl and filling it while he spoke. "I care a lot about you too, Connor. I didn't think... well, I wasn't sure if you even had romantic feelings. Not all people do, and I know even less about androids than I do about people. But... I would like to try. But we'll need to talk more- a lot more- about this..." Hank trailed off as Connor took the bowl from between his fingers, kindly but firmly, and set it down for Sumo. Next he took Hank's hand and- again with that same insistent gentleness- led him to the bedroom. Once inside, he pressed Hank against the door in the darkness of the room.
"Yes Hank. We can talk. I promise. But please , for now, will you touch me?" Connor's tone fizzled a little towards the end of the sentence, and something about it spelled desperation and want to Hank, despite not quite being the same as a human whine. He shelved his maturity and good manners for another time- even if Connor hated him in the morning, he wasn't sure he could say no.
However, something told him that this was only the beginning. With a sigh, Hank wrapped up Connor and pulled him close, enjoying the weighty feel of him against his own body. He would feel subconscious but he knew that Connor wouldn't care. If he didn't care about all the other obnoxious, unhealthy, self-loathing things Hank did to himself, his stomach was unlikely to turn him off. He hoped, at least. They didn't part as they shuffled towards the bed, as Connor seemed unwilling to let go and Hank didn't have the heart to make him. Once they arrived, however, Hank nudged him until he sat heavily upon the mattress. It was made, for once, and a tiny voice in the back of his brain wondered if Connor had planned this. If he had, Hank would only congratulate him on his success.
"If you change your mind, tell me to stop, or tap me, or-" Connor just nodded and smiled before laying himself back on the bed, fingers coming to undo the buttons on his shirt and making Hank lose his train of thought. With each new inch of revealed skin, he felt a little more short of breath.
"I know, Hank. And you as well, okay?" Hank valiantly refrained from rolling his own eyes as he pulled his tee shirt over his head by the back of his collar. As if he hadn't been carefully not imagining this since he'd met Connor. Bare chested he felt vulnerable, but it was easy to forget with how much skin Connor was revealing below him. The android slipped the button down shirt all the way off his shoulders and then sat forward to get it off of his arms. This close, the tension from the kitchen returned in full force.
Hank's next kisses were less chaste, licking into Connor's mouth gently, leading him, seeing what he responded to. Using his hands, Hank nudged Connor to lay back on the bed and followed him down, turning so that the both of them were laying and caught up in one another. Hank eventually needed to breathe and pulled back, still unable to take his eyes off of Connor. If this was a dream Hank decided that he never wanted to wake up.
Connor looked /happy/. Not that he hadn't ever looked happy before, he certainly had, but this was different. The emotion was so human, so familiar, he felt a responding ache in his chest that make him want to smile back. With a start, he realized that he already was. "Is this okay?" Connor asked, hands playing across Hank's chest softly while they rested, enjoying the company and anticipating the immediate future.
Hank grinned, rolling to cage in Connor with his body. As he suspected, Connor seemed to like the contact, arching up to feel more of him where there was space. "Yeah, I'd say this is okay." He nearly bit his lip on telling Connor he could back out again, but it felt wrong for the moment. Connor looked dazed, a little unfocused, and flushed. Was that a programmed reaction? A question for later, perhaps.
From there it was easy to roll his hips against where Connor was laying, their cocks sliding together and getting friction against their clothes. Almost before Hank could suggest it, Connor was pushing at the waist of Hank's jeans, trying to get them off. Hank was still chuckling and sliding them down his legs when suddenly the world spun and he was staring at Connor, but now with the ceiling behind him instead of the bedding. The breathless feeling he had was pleasant and he felt his own cheeks flush redder in response. It was a subtle but very sexy reminder that Connor only looked like he was weaker than Hank.
"My turn." Connor's mischievous smirk was back, but now all Hank wanted was for him to continue. Connor sat back and braced on his knees, pushing down his pants all at once. He wore nothing beneath, and Hank's cock throbbed at the sight. Like the rest of him, he was 'anatomically correct' and obviously functional, since the soft curve of his cock was pointed towards his stomach as he let the clothing slide down his legs and kick off his feet, one by one. And he was completely perfect.
"Why don't you come here and let me use my mouth on you, huh?" Hank asked, and Connor froze where he was in midair, leaning back down over Hank. It was almost creepy, since most people couldn't bear to hold that position with their abs for very long, but it was just another thing that reminded him this was Connor and not some random shag. The led that spun between blue and yellow, the perfect skin with carefully marked imperfections, the beautiful gloss of his brown eyes. All of it was just Connor .
" Yes. " Connor replied, that same fizzy voice from earlier clouding the clarity of the sound. Hank grinned as he shuffled forward, until the tip of his cock was on Hank's parted lips. The human was reclined and his partner braced on the wall behind him, legs spread wide and hips dipping down. The position wasn't usually one that was easy to keep, but again, there were advantages to being an android. Opening his mouth, Hank swallowed down the first half of Connor's cock slowly, giving him a little time to adjust.
After a moment Connor pulled back and Hank could hear the faint whirr- Connor's cooling fans. He sometimes activated them after a long time chasing a perp, but Hank had never been so proud to hear the noise of a fan in his entire life. His voice was still blessedly clear, but if he had his way, it wouldn't be for long. "I'll tap you if I need to pull back, go ahead Connor..." He encouraged, wrapping his own hands around to cup Connor's gorgeous ass. That seemed to be all that Connor needed in order to get started. He slid back into Hank's mouth and set up a slow but sure rhythm that made Hank want to touch himself.
He began sliding a little deeper into the warm clutch of Hank's mouth bit by bit, and Hank was silently grateful that the folks at Cyberlife were realistic rather than gratuitous with the size of his dick. He could take Connor all the way in until only the last bit remained before the tickle of discomfort set in. Just enough to titillate, not enough to choke. There was probably a damned committee that decided things like that. Hank left the idea where it fell.
Connor was quickly losing his composure up above, flickering between watching where his own penis was disappearing into Hank's mouth and up at the ceiling, unable to keep his spine straight while also preventing himself from bucking in. Hank's fingers were not idle as they roamed his ass, first just cupping gently but then kneading, teasing the crack before sliding back to more known territory. It was driving Connor crazy.
"Ha...Hank! Ehhhh..." He was making indistinct noises as his vocal processor warbled in and out, and beneath his fingers Hank could feel the faintest tremble, almost more like a vibration than something a human would do. it drove him to push forward, lips sealed around the base of Connor's cock while he did what he could with suction and his tongue. The noises got louder, the buzzing got more intense, and above him Connor curled downward, one hand falling to an elbow as he lost his purchase.
"Please, I'm about to-" Connor pulled back and came as he did, the shock of cool air on his artificial nerves the final straw. The delicate white stripes he painted were almost pretty in the night gloom as the world stilled around them.
Connor slid down the wall and against Hank in a way that would be comical in any other context, until he plaid prone and still next to him. Hank caught his breath while one hand absently played in the mess Connor had created, and the sight was mesmerizing. He yanked his attention away to look at Connor, who was also watching the faint trails of cum off Hank's fingers with rapt attention. Fondness filled his chest at the way he managed to look at once debauched and innocent.
"How was that?" Hank asked softly, and Connor's attention snapped back to him like a rubber band, or perhaps like a chameleon having spotted a fly. The comparison made him smile despite his lingering arousal and satisfaction at having given Connor what he wanted.
Connor looked... something. Hank couldn't place the expression on his face, oddly blank but not unpleasantly so. He looked serene. "That was exactly what I was imagining, and better." He said finally. Hank exhales a breath he didn't remember holding at the positive response. The last thing he wanted to hear was that he'd been a disappointment.
Connor's attention trailed back down to the cum and then further to where Hank was still hard, a little flagging from their break but plenty interested. At the obvious attention he throbbed, then groaned and blushed, covering his face with his arm to hide it from the android's perfect gaze. Connor was undeterred, leaning up to purr in Hank's ear while his hot breath brushed over the man's sensitive neck.
"Can I touch you now, Hank? I want to make you come too..." He said, softly, and the groan Hank responded with must have been affirmative enough sounding, because he went along to wrap his long fingers around the thickness of Hank's cock. A white hot streak of arousal spiked in Hank and he gasped, twisting a little unintentionally as he tried to get more purchase. The former flagging was gone and he was very hard, almost painfully so.
"Fuck, Connor, that feels so fucking good." He blabbered, exposing his face once more when he grasped for the bedding beneath him. His other arm was wrapped around Connor's waist and clutched as well, keeping the smaller man close as the heat built. "Yes, yes, more like that..." Hank muttered, and Connor lapped it up eagerly, applying it to what he thought had felt good to himself. In no time Hank was nearing the edge, turning his face towards Connor to kiss him.
Connor pulled back right as Hank came, too eager to get a good look. Hank forgave him, as the oxygen he was able to pull in was very necessary and sent his head spinning while his hips twitched. He was a big man, and his spasms rocked the bed just a little, jostling Connor against him in a way that only heightened Hank's pleasure. A pleasant little reminder that his wildest dreams had actually come true.
They came down together then, Hank's stomach and chest covered in the evidence of their activities and both of them breathing heavily into the room. After he regained enough breath to speak, Hank turned to find Connor staring at him. he forgot what he was going to say and stared back, wondering what he was thinking. Before he could ask, Connor spoke.
"Thank you, Hank." He leaned in for another kiss, and Hank indulged him for a moment before nudging him off. As much as he wanted to linger, the cooling cum would be unpleasant soon, and he had sweat enough that a shower and change of sheets was in order. It would be the first night Connor slept here in the room with him. Or, so he assumed...
"Would you, erm... do you wanna sleep here? Like in the bed, with me? I know you don't really sleep but I would like it if you wanted to. Or not, if-" This time Connor was the one to shush him, grinning again. Whoever had taught him that was in serious trouble. Oh shit, it was probably Hank.
"I'd love to, thank you. Why don't you go get the shower running, I'll change the sheets and join you in a moment?" He asked, back to his usual efficient self. Hank couldn't help the exasperated huff at the boy's frankness, even now after what they had just done... and might do again, but maybe a little more slowly. Or in the morning. Yeah, the morning would be nice... Hank caught himself before he got carried away.
"Sounds good to me." He agreed easily, but paused at the door. He half turned and grinned into the darkness, where Connor hadn't bothered to turn on a light before getting to work. It wasn't like he needed it. "Oh, and Connor?" The android looked up quizzically, wondering what he'd forgotten. "The answer is yes, I think you're hot." Hank headed out, and Connor froze while his fan began to whir again.
With a smile he realized, no matter how much he learned about Hank, he'd never know what he was going to say or do next.