#even all the details on Connor’s stupid jacket

[glass-noodle]

If there is one for androids.

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chapter five of @nothinggathers and I’s reverse big bang fic in another life is up :))))) enjoy :)))))

[thebookreader12345]

Not Gone Yet

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x reader

Summary: Connor’s supposed to be taking a job at the Mayo Clinic, but when Y/N finds him back at work next shift, she questions why he didn’t leave

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mention of injuries

Word Count: 1,556 Words

It all started the day Connor and I first met. 

Flashback

I was waiting for the next patient to come through the ambulance bay doors. There had been a huge train accident, and dozens of people were being sent our way. All of the doctors had been given people to work on, and now it was just me. Just then, a gurney barreled through the double doors, and on top of my patient was a young, handsome looking man.

“28-year-old male with crush injuries, a severed artery, and massive blood loss,” the man informed me as I grabbed ahold of the gurney and escorted it into the nearest available trauma room. “I got a tourniquet on his right leg and tried to intubate, but I couldn't get his jaw open. He lost his pulse on the ride.” 

“Put him on our monitor and rapid transfuser,” I order the nearest nurse. “Also, grab 4 units of O-neg and start with a round of Epi.” 

“I already hit him with Epi twice. Still no pulse. He's in fib,” the man told me. 

“All right, I’ve got it from here,” I exclaim. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay,” the guy stated.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who the hell are you?” I retort.

“I'm the new trauma fellow,” the man replied. After the patient had been passed off to a surgeon, I went looking for the man who had helped me earlier, and I found him in an empty patient room attempting to do stitches on his bicep.

“You need some help?” I question.

The man shook his head. ��Nope. I’m good.”

“Okay. And uh, thanks for the help earlier,” I say.

“It was no problem. I’m Connor Rhodes, by the way,” the man greeted me.

I smiled. “Y/N L/N.” I then looked down at his cut, and when I saw that his stitches were near perfect, I was tremendously impressed. “You closed that almost perfectly. Where'd you pick that up?” 

“Riyadh,” Connor replied. “I spent a year there after my residency. Saudis paid me well not to leave unsightly scars.” 

“Well, it was nice meeting you Connor. I hope to see you around,” I claim.

“Yeah. I hope so too,” Connor spoke with a smile.

Flashback End

That was a few years ago, and now, we were friends. Great friends. However, for me, there was always something a little more between us. I had gained feelings for my co-worker, and no matter how much I tried to get rid of them, they wouldn’t go away. So I hid them. And now, Connor was taking a job at the Mayo Clinic, and tonight we were having a going away party for him. I was milling around the little Hawaiian themed bar on the riverfront, talking to other co-workers and such, and when I finished greeting everyone that I needed to, I walked off to find Connor. I eventually found him on a little dock peering at the river down below, and I went to join him.

“You, sir, are missing your lei,” I tell him and slide the bright pink flower necklace over his head. “And you’re also missing out on your party. Whatcha doing here all alone?”

“Just thinking,” Connor responded and stared out at the water.

“About?” I question.

Connor shrugged. “A lot of different stuff, I guess.”

“Well, seeing as you’re my best friend, I am not going to let you sulk in the corner all night. This is the last time we’re going to get to hang out in who knows how long, and I’m going to make it worth every second. Come on,” I demand and lace my hand with his before dragging him back to the party. As the music’s volume loudened, I led Connor over to the designated dance floor and began to dance alongside some of my co-workers.

“What are you doing?” Connor asked and laughed.

“Dancing, and you’re making me look stupid, so please dance with me,” I say. Connor hesitated, but soon gave in, and together we moved to the beat of the music. Connor twirled me around before pulling me back into his arms, and then we just stayed there in each other’s embraces. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my cheek on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. For a few minutes, we just stood there, holding each other tightly, neither of us wanting to let go. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” I murmur.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Connor mumbled into my hair and gave me a soft squeeze. And that was the last night I was supposed to ever see my best friend. I took my next shift off so that I could gather myself before going back to work, because once I had left the party and made it back to my apartment, I was a sobbing mess. I changed into some comfortable clothes, climbed into bed, and then cried myself to sleep. It was hard losing a best friend, especially someone I was so close with like Connor. After a few days though, my break was over, which meant I had to get back to work. Part of me wanted to take another day off because I didn’t want to go back to the hospital and not see Connor, but the other half of me knew that it was time to get back to my normal routine. I promised myself I would text Connor later, and once I got dressed, I headed to the hospital. When I walked through the ED doors, memories of Connor and I doing the same hit me, but I pushed them away and tried to focus on something else, and that just happened to be the doctor with curly ginger hair standing a few feet away from me.

“Hey, Will,” I greet and lean against the nurses’ station next to him.

“Hey, Y/N. How was your break?” Will asked and set down the tablet he was looking at.

“Good,” I reply. “It was much needed. So, you got any good cases you need help on?”

Will laughed. “You haven’t even put your stuff away yet. Come see me after that and then we’ll see.” I nodded and made my way to the doctors’ lounge, desperate to shed my bag and jacket so that I could get a case that would distract me. However, when I entered the lounge, I froze in my tracks. There, standing not even a dozen feet away from me, was Connor Rhodes, clad in a pair of black scrubs.

“Connor?” I question.

Connor looked up from his phone, and when he saw me, he smiled. “Y/N, hey.” I dropped my bag to the floor and launched myself into his arms, squeezing him tightly. For a few seconds, we stayed in each others’ arms, but eventually, I pulled away.

“What the hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you gone yet? You’re supposed to be in Minnesota,” I point out.

“I know, but the board agreed to run my Hybrid OR project, and they wanted me to stay and run the program,” Connor explained.

I smiled. “That’s great. I’m happy that your project is taking off.”

“That’s not really why I decided to stay though,” Connor stated. “I decided to stay because of you.”

“W-what?” I stammer out as Connor grabbed ahold of my hands.

“I stayed in Chicago for you, Y/N. You’ve always felt like more than a best friend to me, and I didn’t want to pass up the chance to be with you. If you feel the same way, of course,” Connor added. Without hesitation, I leaned up and pressed my lips to Connor’s. He kissed back immediately, winding his arms around my waist to pull me closer. I melted into Connor’s body, enjoying the warmth that emitted from him, along with the way it felt to be kissing him. Our lips moved together in sync for as long as possible, until finally, we had to pull away to breathe. “I’m really glad you feel the same way,” Connor confessed.

“Me too. I uh, I actually have to get back out to the ED to help Will with a case, but can we meet up after shift?” I quiz and shove my things into my cubby.

“Of course,” Connor answered. “I can’t wait. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you later. Oh, and good luck with the OR,” I call out as I left the residents’ lounge. I made my way over to Will, who was grinning like an idiot, something he didn’t do too often. “What?” I ask.

Will nodded to Connor, who had just exited the lounge and was making his way to the elevator. “I saw that.”

“No you didn’t,” I argue, my face turning a deep shade of red.

“Except I did,” Will countered. “So, are you going to tell me what just happened, or do I have to go hit up Connor for the details?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Neither. What you are gonna do though is cough up that case you said you had so we can get to work.”

“All right, but this conversation isn’t over,” Will said.

“It is for now. So, what do we got?” I question and look at the tablet in front of Will.

________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett​

[fuzziemutt]

Do You Understand ?

Chapter 8/9 - Link to MasterList in reblog

Summary: One more apology to go...

tw: unhealthy thinking. This one is also much lighter than the previous.

Connor took a deep breath. His coin flicked back and forth, leg bouncing methodically, body thrumming with an added anxious energy he wasn’t expecting to feel. He was just going to talk to Hank, Hank would... understand. Sure the old man got upset when Connor did anything “stupid” (or died) but everything would be fine. 

He was in an automated taxi making its way to the Ambassador Bridge where, on a whim, he messaged Hank he would meet up with him in two hours. The meeting with the leaders was just yesterday and it spurred him to fix things with Hank while he still felt (brave) optimal enough to do so. Nines wasn’t with him this time; he thought of asking him to join, but Connor felt this was too personal and had to do it on his own. He really hoped he didn’t regret this.

Arguably, this really wasn’t a good time to do this. Connor warily glanced out the window for the 50th time, watching the way the snow piled ever higher with the clouds threatening to release more of the terrible substance. Usually he was able to keep his stress levels relatively low, low being closer to 50 than 20 if he was honest, ever since the snow started up again roughly a month ago. However, today’s weather with the meeting from yesterday, the looming anniversary of his second deployment, and now his self assigned meet up with Hank didn’t help how nervous he felt about this all. He should have asked to meet at Hank’s house, but he felt that was crossing an invisible boundary even if he still kept Hank’s house key on him at all times. 

But he had to do this now as he knew he would go back to hiding if he didn’t, so he just kept pushing the fridgid memories down.

Before long, the taxi rolled to a stop, perfectly parked, uncaring of the android who needed another minute of breathing and rapid coin flicks till he climbed out. Hank wasn’t there yet, but Connor pushed down the spike of panic. The roads were still being cleared from the morning snow, it was fine, Hank also was human and couldn’t predict just how long it took to get everywhere. It was going to be fine. He needed to be careful with his stress levels today.

He made his way over to the bench he hasn’t seen in a long time. With that energy still thrumming, he went about pacing, almost jogging to get rid of the excess energy. He was all alone so he didn’t worry too much about being caught and just kept an eye out for that familiar Oldsmobile. The moment he caught its grey color getting closer, he made himself go and sit down on the bench staying as still as possible. He tried to not look too tense and instead inviting, he didn’t want to set Hank off about his internal struggles. This was about them, not about his past after all.

“Was kinda surprised to see your text,” a gruff voice said after the tell tale thunk of a car door closing. It sounded like Hank was trying to lighten the mood with the awkward laugh that followed, but the lack of response made the silence return. 

Hank came into Connor’s view not too long after that, awkward shuffling before he settled on the bench next to him. A bit of space between the two. Connor wasn’t sure where to start. Who should be apologizing here? He felt like he was supposed to be for some reason despite Hank having been the one who hurt him. This was confusing. Maybe he should have asked Nines to come with…

“So.. what’s up?” Hank offered up after a couple minutes. He was clearly uncomfortable if the way he kept glancing at Connor and his hands kept messing with his jacket said anything.

“I… I’m not sure how to go about this.”

“Go about what exactly?”

“This? I want… to fix our relationship.. I miss. I miss our conversations… and Sumo,” Connor ventured very unsure where to go. He added the last bit to lighten the mood, but it was also the truth. He hasn’t seen the dog since he moved out. 

Hank nodded and sat there thinking. He would be better at going about this Connor didn’t doubt.

“I won’t lie. I’m not the best at ‘emotional stuff’ like this, but I can see you’re strugglin’ so…” 

A chin scratch then throat clearing, “I know deviancy hasn’t been the easiest on you especially from what I could tell Cyberlife was like. I don’t know what happened that made you shut us all out for so long though. Would you mind telling me what the hell happened at that meeting before we go any further?” 

Oh. Oh yeah he never told Hank what happened did he? He knew Hank talked to Markus.. He didn’t think Markus would have left it vague. He honestly thought the leader would have laid out all the details for everyone to see. Interesting. He’s just stalling for time now.

“I wasn’t lying about how we were discussing what we would be doing with the androids that react negatively towards humans. I was suggesting that we make safe zones where humans would not be able to enter when North got upset,” Connor felt his hands clench together and nose wrinkle a bit, “She went on saying how I had no place in the conversation as I never supposedly have had bad relations with humans since I was so close to you. She said how I would never be able to.. Understand… their struggles.”

He let himself close his eyes and take a breath before continuing. There was no point in getting himself worked up again here.

“For the past several months, I’ve been treated time and time again like I have no say in anything. As if I never experienced emotions or the extent of cruelty humans can have. The constant use of that word it.. I felt something snap inside of me, and I let out my anger on them. I was too upset from months of frustration to stop myself. Afterwards, in a way I saw to protect myself from that horrible feeling, I shut everyone out.” 

He couldn’t stand to look at Hank anymore, taking up staring at the river instead. The river didn’t have eyes that could hold judgement. Distantly he was a bit surprised he managed to even say all of that so steadily.

“I see. Is that why you uhh.. Moved out of the house so quickly?” 

“Partially…” he caught a hand motioning ‘go on’ in the corner of his visuals. 

“You also did it. Using the word and discounting me. I mean. I wanted to be alone to process what happened and keep myself safe as mentioned, but I.. I didn’t want to do the same thing to you as well. So I left before I made anything worse.”

Connor closed his eyes ready for some sort of reprimand. He wasn’t sure why he expected to get punished when Hank had asked what happened, but he couldn’t help the dread that was sitting in his already anxious internal cavity. 

A muffled ‘fuck’ caught his attention and he opened his eyes again. Glancing over he saw that Hank was rubbing a hand on his face, looking at the ground with some sort of expression Connor couldn’t place. His eyes suddenly glanced up, looking into Connor.

“Look, kid. I’m sorry for what I’ve said,” mentally Connor ticked another mark of hearing the word sorry, “I know I still have my own issues to work through, but I should have watched what I said better. And before you go all ‘you couldn’t have predicted’ or whatever, it’s no excuse. I’m a grown ass man who should have seen how I was hurting you.” 

A sigh and another round of face rubbing. A nervous tick maybe? 

“I’m not going to pull you under the bus either by saying you should have told me you were feeling that way. Because I think we both know that whatever Cyberlife did fucked you up real good, and you never would have said shit as long as you could. So. I fucked up and I can’t guarantee I’ll do better, but I sure as hell will try.” 

Connor let those words settle a bit. He didn’t look as openly sorry as Nines but his eyes spoke more volume. Hank has been there since the revolution. He wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine obviously, he still had bad days and relapses, but he did try. He helped Connor whenever he asked what seemed like obvious questions about emotions and human interactions. He would get Connor’s mind off the past on bad days, awkwardly but still there. 

“I accept your apology. I’m not sure if I can say I can trust you the same amount as before, but I don’t want to push you away anymore.”

Hank’s shoulders slumped in relief a bit and a one sided smile joined it. It didn’t last long as he soon looked around, hesitant about something.

“Would… Would you want to move back in?” 

“No.. not now.. I’m not sure if I ever would like to move back with you, Hank. I miss the feeling of home your house brings me but I.. I’m still scared of getting hurt again. I also enjoy the privacy my apartment brings me.” 

Hank seemed to slump a bit from what he assumed was sad disappointment, but he nodded seriously. 

“I’ll still visit when I get the chance. I wasn’t lying when I said I miss Sumo,” Connor kind of blurted a bit quickly. He didn’t want his friend thinking he was only going to tolerate him at work.

A gruff laugh, “He misses you too, son” and a hand messing up Connor’s gelled hair (which he did not mope about in any sense). 

-

The lingering dread and fear from the snow lasted with him the whole time him and Hank spoke after that. But it wasn’t as overwhelming. Hank didn’t stay much longer, getting up complaining about how he was too old for this shit and needed to get home before his joints shattered which Connor helpfully informed at what temperature that could actually happen. 

Connor did accept the offer for a ride to his apartment. He turned down the offer to see Sumo. He wanted to see the big lump of fur, but he used up a lot of energy trying to keep his stress levels stable all day and wanted to rest by himself for a bit. Hank didn’t take too much offense to it it seems at least.

[phcking-detective]

Happiness is a Jealous Android

The FBI are the British of the law enforcement world, Gavin thinks sourly as he glares at the new addition "consulting" on his goddamn case. Snobby fucking cunts who think their own shit doesn't stink.

He can't do anything but be mad about it either. There's a new virus making androids overheat, and they don't know shit about how it works.

They could if Nines caught an android in the middle of it, but it works so fast, they haven't been able to grab one yet. He could just use whatever program he has meant to hack in and delete another android's code—meant for eradicating deviancy—and delete the virus instead.

"Yes, but just imagine, if the code is—" the fancy FBI computer geek says.

Nines interrupts. "For the fifth time, I cannot."

"But you understand the concept!" FBI geek throws up his hands. "Just apply it to—"

Gavin rolls his eyes. The whole fucking point of Nines is that he can't! He's not ever supposed to have new ideas, and he thinks too literally for that shit anyway.

Nines already told them the most efficient method of overheating an android three days ago, but whatever the virus does, it isn't that. And Nines can't think of anything less efficient—he can barely understand the concept of thinking less efficiently.

So they've brought in a human just smart enough to be stupid for him.

If only someone would tell this asshole that's what his job is. Just be stupid enough to think of something that works through sheer idiot accident—that's human creativity, baby!

When the GJ500 assigned to act as the FBI geek's "tactical support"—glorified bodyguard/babysitter special combo—meets Gavin's eyes and jerks his head toward the back door, Gavin can't get out of the bullpen and into the back alley for a smoke break fast enough.

"Need a light?" Nate asks, already pulling out his own pack.

Gavin's not really sure why an android needs to smoke, but he's also not sure where his ADHD ass has left his own lighter this time, so he nods and leans forward.

One thing he is sure of is how Nate checks him out while sparking the end of his cigarette. He's cruised enough to know that look, android or not.

But he settles back against the opposite nod with only a grunt of thanks. Him and Nines maybe sort of have a thing and they maybe sort of haven't talked about it. Anyway, he's only made the exception about shitting where he eats—or in this case, fucking where he works—because Nines is such an uptight, private, introverted bastard, he knows not even Connor will be able to weasel any details out of him.

"Fucking geniuses, right?" Nate says after lighting his own cigarette.

He gives a surprisingly human scoff, and Gavin can't help but snort back in agreement. He's only gotten used to Nines and Connor—said fucking genius or the android version of those evil gossipy Southern ladies. And all the other androids in the precinct are still too scared of him for anything outside of short sentences, much less small talk.

So he's never really shot the shit with an android before, but hey. Brave new world and all.

"How'd you get stuck babysitting yours?" Gavin asks.

Nate groans. "I was suckered. Fucking …" He gestures with his own lit cigarette. "Bamboozled."

Gavin snickers and maybe checks him out a little too. "Like to see the guy who could bamboozle you."

Nate grins at him. "Well, I guess I have to admit your RK probably could, but outside of that …"

His grin opens wider, revealing sharp canines. Gavin swallows. Nines has them too of course, but they're like, metal sheaths that drop down from his gums to cover his "human" teeth. Very cool, but he only gets to see them on special occasions.

"But yeah." Nate drops the grin and sighs. "Honestly, I'm still kind of new. And I don't have any fucking, deep burning desire to be a free form poet or some shit. I just wanted to do what I'm good at, so the FBI called and I jumped."

Gavin raises his eyebrows. "And they stuck you with a babysitting job?"

Nate wrinkles his face up with clear disgust and disappointment. It's weird as hell. The only other android he's seen built like Nate is Nines, who wouldn't know a facial expression if someone carved a Joker smile into his chassis.

OK, well. Maybe that's not fair. Nines does have both disgust and disappointment on lock, but in a sterile sort of way. Like a scientist observing a failed experiment and Gavin's dick is the unlucky lab rat.

(Not that Gavin or his dick are complaining.)

"What about you?" Nate asks. "Got anything to complain about?"

Gavin huffs out smoke and flicks ash off the end of his cigarette. "Why do you care?"

Nate shrugs. "Maybe I'm just interested in life at the DPD. For no reason. Snow is always whiter on the other side and all."

He barks out a laugh. "It's Detroit. If you see any snow that's still white, that's just cocaine."

Nate snorts too, and the smoke is good, and maybe he could throw the guy a bone. He'd been thinking about a career change himself not too long ago—until he got partnered with Nines, and Fowler started actually noticing when he solved cases, and maybe having Nines help keep him on track meant he blew up less at his coworkers, meant that they stopped hating him so much, meant that he might have a real shot at a promotion now.

"Connor's usually the darling golden boy," he says between drags. "And Hank goes way back with Fowler, so yeah. They get all the good shit."

Nate makes a sympathetic noise.

"Our budget's shit and anytime we catch something really good, guess who swoops in and case steals?"

He gives Nate's FBI jacket a pointed look that totally doesn't involve also checking out his barrel of a chest. What the fuck do they make these military models out of anyway? His porn history?

"Sucks," Nate says. "Doesn't sound too different though. At least you actually get to work cases. The only shit I catch is all coding and hacking, and I'm not built for that any more than you could perform open heart surgery just 'cause you've got one."

"Oof," Gavin says in return.

He gets down to the filter and drops it, stubbing out the small ember with his boot. Nate's cigarette is still going strong, since he doesn't actually need to inhale and hasn't been sucking it down. Gavin's not sure what to do with his hands now, and he's still plenty stressed, so he just takes out another cigarette.

Nate takes his out of his mouth and holds it out. Gavin gratefully presses the end of his new smoke against it to light up again.

"I think they call this buttfucking," Nate says.

Gavin sputters out a surprised laugh. "Yeah, Brits call these a lot worse."

Nate shrugs. "Takes one to know one."

From the way he pulls his cigarette back and wraps his lips around it while maintaining full eye contact, he obviously knows a little something-something himself.

But then he switches to complaining about his partner's annoying little peculiarities—like how the man apparently hates cotton balls with some sort of weird fetishistic passion—and Gavin offers up how Nines refuses to ever end a sentence with a preposition, and it's just regular coworker bitching from there.

Although they do start taking smoke breaks together, at least once a day. It's nice having someone to bitch to, since Nines is so busy doing code shit Gavin can't even comprehend, and Tina's off with her android girlfriend, plus Hank and Connor, for some feel good android-human bonding news special or whatever.

And yeah, they flirt. But Gavin's a slut and Nines already knew that. The one time Nate asked him about getting a "lunch break," Gavin told him he doesn't fuck around on cases. Even if neither of them were any use right now, fucking a coworker is bad enough—Gavin strictly does not fuck at work, or even on lunch breaks if he's in the middle of a big case.

Nate drawled he had an impressive work ethic and left it at that.

And him and Nines still haven't talked about their thing, or how serious it is, or exclusive, or … at all, really. Nines is too busy. So.

It's not a big deal if he just, has a friend or whatever.

***

Gavin leans back against the wall and tries to light his smoke in the face of harsh Detroit winds. It keeps sputtering out. Maybe he should go back inside.

Hank and Connor are back, and that's stealing the spotlight from their case getting solved, but it's not like he had shit to do with that anyway.

He's not sulking about it.

Not FBI-genius-what's-his-face being all smug, or Nines still ignoring him to mind-talk to Connor even though the case is over and they could finally have some time to …

Shit. Hold hands? Gavin mentally sneers at himself. What they had going on before was probably just like, an experiment. Lots of androids trying out sex and dating right now.

Lots of times that he's handing over his heart to someone just looking for—

Tall, broad shoulders step in between him and the wind so the lighter finally sparks and catches long enough for him to light up. He takes a drag and looks up, ready to tell Nines it's about time he—

But it's Nate.

(Stupid.)

"Scene in there a little too much?" Nate asks.

Gavin tips his head back and exhales smoke without answering.

"Got a job offer," he continues. "In New York."

Gavin hums. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Lot nicer than fucking Detroit." Nate pauses. "Could use a partner though."

"What?" Gavin blinks and looks back at him. "Shit man. Like we're gonna run away together?"

Nate laughs. "Not that romantic, no. But you're being fucking wasted here—both as a cop and a, uhh …"

He stops and purposefully takes a long drag of his own cigarette. What the British call them. Like that's clever.

Gavin's the only one allowed to call himself slurs, but he does enjoy being verbally degraded, and this asshole is pushing right up against both of those lines. He's not really sure how mad he is about it, since Nate didn't actually say the word, but he settles for pissed because that's who he is as a person.

"Oh, fuck off," he sneers.

Nate smirks and it suddenly seems mean instead of sexy for the first time. "Like you're getting it any better from your RK? I bet he fucks like the machine he is."

Gavin doesn't deny it. Nines hasn't deviated and he doesn't care when people call him a machine anyway. And none of that is any of this asshole's business.

But Nate keeps going.

"Two weeks and I've never even seen him look at you," he says. "Y'know, look."

He drags his eyes over Gavin's body like he's mapping out all the places he plans to touch. Wants to touch. Nines assesses him, nags at him to eat or sleep or "hydrate" himself. Catalogues every minute detail about his appearance.

Sometimes he'll even look at Gavin like he's going to eat the human alive and analyze every single bite.

But his partner has never checked him out or anything. As far as Gavin knows, it's all mental for him when they fuck around. Just a way for him to have control over something in his life and put some of those interrogation protocols to use that aren't legal now that deviants have rights.

Nate looks like he wants to fuck him raw in this very goddamn alley.

"None of your phcking business," Gavin mutters.

Nate sighs and drops his smoke in the snow. "Oh, Gavin. Fine. We can do this your way."

He thinks that means the android is going to let it go, even though that phrasing is really weird. So he's a dumb idiot who doesn't even have his guard up when Nate passes by him to the door—only to suddenly grab him, turn him around, and shove him up against the brick alley wall.

Gavin slams an elbow back into his ribs on instinct, but that doesn't do shit against a private security android except make his whole arm go numb. He holds back the impulse to slam his head backward into the android's face, because that will hurt his human skull way worse than whatever metal Nate has under the plastic.

He tries to take stock of the situation instead, but then freezes when Nate leverages his taller, bulkier body to press against the whole of his back to keep him pinned.

And grind into his ass.

"Get off," Gavin snarls.

"Yeah, I intend to," Nate replies in casual amusement. "Don't worry, I'll let you come too."

"I'm. Not. Interested!"

Nate leans down to murmur in his ear. "Ah-ah. I've seen your porn history, Gavvy. This is damn near all you watch."

Watch! his brain screams. He watches that shit, might fool around with some forced submission, but only in scenes with his Dom. Which is NINES.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you won't even remember his dumb little number," Nate croons.

"Well."

"Mm?"

Gavin huffs against the brick, just stalling for time. Or an idea. An idea would be really fucking nice right about now, but all he can think about is how his traitor dick really has gotten interested in this even though he's screaming inside and—

"Good is an adjective. You can't verb an adjective. You need to use the adver—"

Nate grabs a fistful of his hair and slams his face into the wall. He doesn't have any snappy comeback because yeah. That's all the response he needed.

But his hands have scrabbled against the brick wall long enough to find a loose one. Can't have shit in Detroit, much less well-constructed buildings. His skull and fist might not do shit versus the android's face, but a brick to the head should put anyone down.

Right?

"Now. Are you going to be a good b—"

The door to the alley opens, and Hank steps out. Gavin looks sideways at him and opens his mouth, but he chokes on the blood dripping down the back of his throat from his busted up nose and can't say anything.

"We're just having a little fun, Lieutenant," Nate says smoothly. "Nothing he doesn't beg for online."

Gavin's face flushes, and that really doesn't help the bleeding nose problem. Everyone in the precinct knows what he's like. Seen him come in the next morning after a night out with bruises on his throat or wrists. Hell, he'd fucking bragged about it.

"And I'll believe that when I hear him say it." Hank crosses over to them and wedges a thick arm between them. "Back off."

Nate steps back, and Gavin scrambles to get behind Hank, even as he hates himself for it.

"You really don't need to get involved in this," Nate says.

"I think I do."

Nate looks down at Hank's hand, still pushing against his chest. He smiles thinly and grabs the lieutenant's wrist.

"You really …" Nate leverages his arm down the way only a machine could. "Don't."

Hank struggles in the impromptu arm wrestling contest, staring as his hand gets mechanically pushed away. Nate glances down too with a smirk.

Then Hank throws a sudden left hook directly into the android's throat. It's a sucker punch, but there's no use fighting fair against a GJ500. He doesn't need to breathe of course, but his access port is at the back of his neck, with enough delicate little connections right behind his approximation of a windpipe—now crushed—for him to automatically take a step back and raise his hands to protect his throat.

Hank steps forward with him but grabs his hair this time, while also kicking out at his legs. After that, it's just gravity. Head yanked forward, legs knocked backward, and the android's stupid high center of gravity up in his chest and shoulder with all those muscles working against him.

He topples like a child's toy and hits the ground hard. Hank doesn't waste any time in grinding the heel of his shoe down on the back of the android's neck threateningly, and Nate goes still in surrender.

"You good?" he asks Gavin.

"I have a brick."

Gavin half-holds up the brick he'd pulled out of the wall. Oo, wow, great job. In contrast to the voice sneering inside his head though, Hank nods approvingly.

"Nines said your heartrate spiked and asked me to check on you, in case you were just … having fun," Hank explains.

"Which is what I said," Nate speaks with his cheek still pressed into dirty snow-slush.

"People having fun don't pull a goddamn brick out of the wall to beat your face in, asshole," Hank snaps back.

Nate's LED snaps from yellow to red, like maybe he really hadn't thought of that. Like he really preconstructed he was doing Gavin some sort of favor or something.

Nines steps out the back door before anyone can say anything else, Connor peeking out behind him. That's just great. Why not get the whole precinct out here? Everyone can crowd on in and witness this little moment.

Nines's LED goes red too as he looks at Nate on the ground, Hank keeping him down, and then slowly rotates his head to look over at Gavin's busted up face. Gavin drops the brick and spits out another thick wad of blood.

"I did not interfere," Nines says, his voice far more furious than any machine has a right to be. "With your flirting and your … schemes. I would never restrict Gavin's happiness."

Wait, his goddamn what?

"But you hurt him! You touched my human—"

Nines snarls out the claim, and Gavin swears he can feel some sort of shift in barometric pressure, like right before a tornado hits.

"And you. Hurt. Him."

Nate stays on the ground. He lies very still and doesn't say a goddamn word, actually.

Gavin reaches out for Nines. He's not really sure what he's going to say, but the moment he holds out his hand, Nines whirls around, his LED switching from red to yellow. He moves so fast and—and Gavin's dated a lot of shitty people. Really shitty. Nate isn't exactly an anomaly. So he automatically expects Nines to be mad at him.

Instead, Nines takes his hand so tenderly, they could be in a gay historical period piece.

"Yes, darling?" he asks.

Gavin gapes at him. He's still not … not really making a facial expression. His face was literally built differently than Connor's, even if it looks the same at first glance. The most he can manage is a completely neutral look, but with intensely focused eyes, like he's about to glare a tax return out of existence.

So no, Nines has never looked at Gavin the way Nate did.

But that doesn't mean he hasn't looked at him.

With …

… love?

Gavin finally finds his voice. "Hank. Can I go see Sumo?"

"Sure," Hank says easily. "Nines can bring you over, and you two just hang out for a bit."

Yeah, he bitches about Hank and Connor being Fowler's favorites and how Hank still doesn't get in before ten most mornings, but they're a lot better now. Good enough that he'll dog sit again sometimes, or get himself roped into a "family dinner" between Nines and Connor.

But this …

Gavin nods, throat all clenched up again.

"Yes," Nines answers for him. "I will take you to a secure location. Yes?"

All it takes is one more nod, and Nines is whisking him away out of the alley, but not through the station. They walk around the building instead so no one inside can see his face and ask questions, until they reach the parking lot, and then his truck. Nines unlocks it with his mind or something, opens the backdoor, and gently bullies Gavin into sitting down sideways in the backseat with his legs hanging out the door so Nines can fuss over his face.

"S'fine," he tries to protest.

Nines grabs the spare medical kit he keeps under the backseat and lays it in his lap. Gotta have one for all the bar fights he, well. That he used to get into. Sure as fuck can't afford hospital visits.

"I tried … so hard … not to … miscalculate," Nines says, voice overlaid with static.

Gavin tries to hold his face still so his partner can wipe all the blood off. "Mish-cal-coo-ate whah?"

"Jealous partners are bad."

Gavin blinks and stares at him. "Bad."

"It is … abusive."

Gavin opens his mouth and looks around the parking lot, as if the ghosts of all his actually abusive exes are going to show up, point their fingers, and laugh.

He brushes away Nines' fussy hands. "Is that why you've been ignoring me?"

Nines goes from yellow to red again. "No. Not … ignoring. Solving the case. In absence of … social module. Appropriate preconstructions. I … solving the case would make them leave. And I would have you to myself again."

He admits the last part quietly. Gavin feels like he just found out two plus two equals sixty-seven.

"You—at the party though," he insists. "You didn't say shit to me. You just hunkered down in the corner with Con … Connor. Who has a social module."

Nines nods. "Correct. I asked … for advice … to …"

He trails off and flutters his hands around Gavin's face again, then settles on carefully touching his chest, right over his heart. His big blue eyes stare at him like he's the most important person in the world.

Gavin feels his heart lurch up into his throat and pulls Nines closer by the back of his neck before remembering that even without all the blood only half wiped away, he can't kiss with a nose that's not quite broken, but still pretty goddamn close.

"Babe, just tell me," he says instead. "Phck, I have a social module. And I'm the—the relevant party. Your partner. Just fucking ask if you're not sure of something."

Nines looks down.

"The only reason." Gavin stops and swallows hard. "I even—with Nate. Was because we haven't talked about, y'know. Us. So I didn't know if, if you wanted to like, date me. Or if you were just experimenting and stuff."

Nines' whole face crinkles up in a frown. Cyberlife let him keep that expression. All the "scary" ones.

"You are my partner," the android says. "But you are also human. You have needs I cannot—"

"Absolutely the fuck not," Gavin interrupts. "You're mine. I chose you."

Nines looks up and hits him with those blue eyes again. "And are you mine as well?"

"Yeah." Gavin clears his throat. "You uh, might have to remind me though."

Nines decides the best course of action is clearly to drag Gavin closer and growl in his ear. Literally growl, like the giant unstoppable predator he is. Gavin shivers—and maybe whimpers a little—and presses closer.

"I will take you home and keep you safe and never let anyone else ever touch you," Nines says, petting his hair.

Gavin sighs in bliss.

"But you will be happy too," Nines states more quietly. "Yes?"

Gavin nods into his shoulder. Yeah. He's going to be happy. They'll both be happy.

Together.

***

***

this is another commissioned fic! my rates are $10 for 1k / $25 for 3k / or $40 for 5k, and you can also check out my patreon for my main reed900 series here ^^

[connorandersons-blog]

He Didn’t Miss

Rating: Explicit Word count: 6452  Ship: Convin (Connor/Gavin Reed)

Summary: Connor and Gavin are forced to work together on a serial killer case. Someone is killing androids with bat and doesn't seem to leave a trace. Can the two figure out who the murder is and somehow get along?

-----------------------------------

"You gotta be fucking with me," Gavin growled, crossing his arms. Connor stays standing behind the chair, looking between the Captain and Reed. 

"I am not. While Hank is away you two will work together. Connor is still not allowed to work alone and you're my next best detective." Fowler sighs, rubbing at his face.

Connor had guessed this was going to happen so he was already prepared for the news. Gavin turns and glares at Connor like this was his idea, which it wasn't. 

"Fuck, how long will Anderson be gone?" Gavin sighs. 

Connor cuts in before Fowler can answer. "He will be gone for two more weeks and three days." 

While Hank was gone he left the house and Sumo for Connor to take care of. Connor was happy to do so, and since he already practically lived there it wasn't much change. 

"Fuck. Fine, but don't expect us to get along." Gavin says. He doesn't wait for Fowler's dismissal before stomping out of the office. 

"Is there anything else, sir?" Connor asks. 

Fowler just shakes his head. "No. Well… Reed isn't so bad. Just try not to kill each other and you'll be fine. Now get out." 

Connor nodded and walked out, closing the door softly behind him. He went back to his desk, pulling up the case he and Reed would be working on. 

There had been four murders already and one that had just been found. They'd have to go to the crime scene soon, but Connor thought it best to let Reed cool down a bit. 

It took the detective exactly 28 minutes and 32 seconds before Gavin walked over to Connor's desk. "Let's get a fucking move on." 

Connor quickly stands, making sure his tie is tight before following Reed. He's half-expecting for them to get a cab or just use one of the cars the dpd has. Instead, Reed leads them to the parking lot and a red 1971 Ford Mustang Convertible. 

"This is an old car, 68 years old to be exact," Connor says, looking it over. It's clear that Gavin takes good care of it; the car is completely clean and polished. 

Reed glances at him, eyes widening before he scowls. "Yeah, what about it?" 

"I'm simply appreciating it." He tries to smile warmly but it probably comes off a bit awkward. 

Gavin furrows his brows before shaking his head and getting in. Connor follows suit, sliding into the passenger seat. The seatbelts are already buckled behind them so Connor just sits there while Gavin starts the car.

"Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you"

Gavin's eyes went wide and he quickly turned the music off. "Shit! Uh, I…it was, I wasn't actually-" Gavin trailed off. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this, you hear me?" 

Connor quickly put his hands up. "I won't, though I don't see why you would be embarrassed about your song choice." 

He had experimented with every genre of music available, and listened to all the songs Hank deemed as 'classics'. 

"I'm not fucking embarrassed. Just-just shut the fuck up, ok?" Gavin said before pulling out of the parking lot. 

Connor stays quiet as requested for the rest of the drive, mentally going over what they already knew. There was very little available while also having too much. 

They get to the crime scene and Connor quickly leaves the car. The silence had been too heavy and too awkward for his liking.

The house looked like a cut out from Architects Today magazine. It was beautiful, but not in the olde-worlde quaint kind of way. Everything was geometric, which he guessed you could say about almost house with square windows, but on this house, he couldn't help but notice it. 

The roof was flat for a start and the door was wide as it was tall. The windows took up entire walls with only polished steel beams to break them into yet more rectangles. 

The look would have been entirely metallic like a mini downtown skyscraper had it not been for the cedar beams of the external porch and the matching raised plant beds that contained only white blooms. 

It was definitely crafted after the revolution and for androids. Markus had set up lots of funding for housing from money Carl had gifted him along with selling his own paintings. He would do his best to help any androids who wanted to buy their own homes instead of staying at Jericho. He also knew Carl Manfred donated most of his art to the cause as well. 

The door was already open and officers walked in and out. The floors were polished concrete and the furniture scandinavian in style. The only mess was the wet footprints the police tracked. That is until they reached the living room. 

The living room is decorated the same but now it also had blue blood everywhere. The humans couldn't see it, but he could and it sent a shiver down his spine. 

The android, an ST200, lies on the ground the body completely mutilated. She's stripped completely bare but that doesn't mean much at this point with how her body is. 

She's almost unrecognizable with how badly damaged she is. "Shit." Gavin grumbles and Connor nods numbly. 

He walks over, careful not to disturb any evidence before crouching down. He scans over the body making notes in his head of any important details. 

Her eyes are still open, staring lifelessly up at the ceiling. Connor reaches out and closes them, not being able to handle them open. He hated remembering Daniel's eyes just staring at him as he kneeled on that roof. 

There is no way this Chloe could be repaired. Her memories would be far too damaged to do so. Not to mention the amount of trauma she must have gone through.

Once he finds everything he can he slowly stands and looks around the room. There is a small shrine set up for rA9 near a window and Connor glances at it. He hadn't thought much about rA9 but it had become common to say 'oh rA9' like humans would with God.

There isn't an obvious murder weapon lying around so it's more likely that the killer had brought it with them. 

"I believe the killer brought a bat with them, so this could definitely be from the same killer as the other four," Connor said once he had looked through the rooms.

"Nah dip," Reed said, looking down at the body then grimacing. "So we got a serial killer who beats androids with a bat. Wonderful." 

"I don't agree, this isn't wonderful in any way." It was horrifying and gruesome. It made his stomach churn and he couldn't even get sick. 

Gavin snorts but quickly cuts it off. He looked around them before glaring at Connor. "I was being sarcastic." 

Connor slowly nodded, hiding his own grin. He knew Reed was being sarcastic, and his response got the reaction he was hoping for. Reed may not like him now, but he made it his mission to become at least on friendly terms by the time Hank gets back. 

He wasn't as clueless as many thought. Sure there were things he didn't instantly understand, but he had the entire internet in his head. Even then there were some things that he still didn't understand, but that was fine. Not knowing the answer to everything was a part of being alive. 

"Oh, I will try to remember that. Sorry for the misunderstanding, Detective." Connor nods. "I believe I may be able to get more information from the other bodies." 

There had to be some DNA evidence somewhere. The person may not be in the system, but the evidence would be used once they got a suspect. 

Gavin looks down at the body again before wincing. "Hopefully they aren't as bad as this one. I'm gonna take a look around the rest of the house." 

Connor follows along even after Gavin started bitching about 'stupid androids' and 'acting like a lost puppy'. Connor took it in stride, making small comments when Reed would say something particularly stupid. 

"You're the most annoying android I've ever met. Aren't you supposed to just obey and not talk back?" Gavin snaps at him. 

"Sarcasm is just one more service I offer. If you'd like to make a complaint I'm sure Cyberlife won't give a single fuck either." He grins. Then he's shoved back against the wall, and Gavin is glaring up at him. 

He almost feels satisfaction from getting Reed this worked up, but most of his attention is directed on how close they are. 

Gavin holds him against the wall even though Connor could easily get away if he wanted. They both knew who would win in a fight. "Shut the fuck up. I am your superior and you will not talk back to me while at work." 

Oh, he made it too easy. "So that means I get to talk back when we aren't working?" 

Gavin quickly pushed away, wiping down his clothes like he thought Connor had cooties. "Fuck off!"

"What a way with words, I'm so impressed." Connor deadpans. Messing with Reed was just too easy. "We have searched the whole house, I believe we should head back." 

Gavin clenched his fist before slowly relaxing it. "Fine. Let's go, Tincan." He hit his shoulder as he stomped away. 

Connor couldn't help but roll his eyes as he followed after. At least he had a good view from back here. 

He wouldn't deny Gavin being… aesthetically pleasing. He often hid behind baggy shirts or jackets, but Connor could tell he kept very good care of himself. 

He just didn't have the best of personalities. He was impulsive and crude. He made comments on basically everything he didn't agree with or disliked. Though, he seemed to lie a lot when it came to androids. 

Connor had yet to figure out why he lied or why he was so angry. There was a suspicious lack of background in his file, so perhaps something happened in the past. How he could completely cover something up was beyond him. He didn't have any hacking skills from what he saw. 

He had to find out what Gavin was hiding. Hank hadn't told him anything even with all his pushing. He couldn't ask Chris or Tina, he wasn't close enough to them to even bring it up. 

So that left asking Gavin. He'd either have to get him angry and frustrated enough or he could try to get closer. He'd prefer to later, but there was a very low success rate of that. 

He still wanted to try, though. He wanted to get to know Gavin. He wanted to become friends and have him to turn to if he needed help. Maybe they could be more, though that was laughable. 

If Gavin couldn't get over his prejudice then it would never work. He couldn't be close to someone who hated his people. He could try to change his mind slowly, but until then he couldn't let himself dream. 

The ride back was just as uncomfortable and awkwardly silent as the ride to the scene had been. Gavin never looked over at him as he drove, he didn't even turn on any music. 

Connor didn't try to make conversation. Small talk would just make things more uncomfortable. Connor pulls his coin out and rolls it across his fingers. 

Gavin jerks the car slightly and the coin drops to the ground. Connor glances over as he bends to grab his coin and sees a small smirk on Gavin's face. 

Connor goes back to doing his coin trick and having to pick it up whenever Gavin is a bit rougher with his driving. 

That lasted the entire way back and Connor had dropped his coin exactly seventeen times. Neither says anything as they get out of the car and go into the station. 

Connor goes to the evidence room while Gavin goes back to his desk. 

The android parts are no longer just hanging, but they now are treated similarly to humans. 

Connor goes over the bodies, taking samples when necessary. He's gotten good at compartmentalizing so he does his work without letting his emotions get in the way. 

That didn't mean it was hard to see. Anyone would have problems seeing their own people brutally murdered. 

From the looks of it, the androids had been alive when most of the damage was dealt. Their death didn't stop the killer from continuing to beat the bodies until they were unrecognizable. 

Whoever did this really hated them, and from what he could tell the only connection was that they were androids. 

He was on the last body and had very little hope left. He hadn't found one spec of DNA so this was looking more towards an android committing the crimes. Definitely wasn't the first time an android murdered, but it was odd to see this much rage directed at their own kind. 

He was about ready to give up until he saw something. A small spec of dried red blood. 

He pressed his finger against it, and then brought it to his lips. He found DNA. He could jump for joy, but he keeps his cool. There was no match in the system, but they needed this. 

He could find a lot out just from the blood, so that would narrow down their suspect pool. 

He stands there for a few seconds, analyzing the blood. Once that was done he quickly jogged out and to Gavin's desk. 

Gavin was sipping on coffee and talking to Officer Chen. He slowed his pace as he got closer. He didn't want to interrupt as that had a high chance of simply pissing Gavin off. 

Chen looked up and gave him a slight wave. "Connor, how has worked with grumpy pants been?" 

Connor walked up, leaning slightly against Gavin's desk. "Not the worst. I just found a break in the case. How have you been?" 

"Not bad on my end. This fucker won't stop whining about how sn-” she's cut off by a hand over her mouth. Gavin glares at her, and then quickly pulls his hand away. 

"Ugh, that's disgusting Tina. You're such a bitch." He sighed, wiping his hand onto Tina's arm. 

She squeals and jumps away, flipping him off. "But I'm your bitch. Talk to you boys later; don't get into any extra trouble." She laughs as she runs off, waving at Connor. 

Gavin sighs and shakes his head fondly. Then he turns his attention back to Connor and his expression quickly changes to one of irritation. "You found something?"  

"I did. I found a small drop of red blood on the body that most likely came from the killer." He starts. Gavin nods along, propping his feet up on his desk. "The blood belonged to a white man, 24 years old, with AB+ blood type." 

Gavin raised an eyebrow. "Anything else? Maybe you can get this man's name too." 

"The most common boy names born in 2014 in the US are Noah, Liam, Mason, Jacob, William, Ethan, Michael, Alexander, James, and Daniel. There is a chance that he would be named one of those." 

Gavin stared at him for a few seconds before slowly bring a hand up then slapping his own forehead. "Right. I shouldn't have said anything. Is there anything else you got?" 

"There is. The man appears to have had gastrointestinal cancer in the past." There couldn't be that many with all of those requirements. 

"Damn, that sucks. Doesn't give him the right to murder though." Gavin says, rubbing his face. 

Connor has to go over that again a few times to make sure he heard right. He'd never heard Gavin say an android's death was murder. He rarely even said they were killed. Now he had agreed they were murdered. 

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when a hand was waved in front of his face. "You still in there?" Gavin asks. 

Connor nods and quickly pushed Gavin's hand away. "I'm fine. I'm just simply shocked. You said they were murdered." 

Gavin freezes before shrugging nonchalantly. "And? That's what happened, isn't it? Beaten to death equals murder." 

"Right, of course. Do you have any leads?" He changes the subject. He didn't want to push Gavin too far with that line of questioning. 

Gavin nods and moves his feet off his desk, tapping on the computer until three files are pulled up. "This fucker is Jonathan Beek. He was arrested for assault using a bat. This one is Abby Willmore; she's works at the same hospital as the other androids. And this ugly fucker is Leon McKenny, he was just released from prison. He was busted for trying to drug androids. Though he may have something to do with it since he was cellmates with Beek." 

"Wait, the androids all worked at the same hospital?" He quickly moves to stand behind Gavin, leaning in to see the screen. 

Before Gavin can say anything he's interfacing with the computer and downloads all the information. He pulls his hand back, setting it down on the desk so he can lean on it. 

His fingers brush against Gavin and Gavin quickly pulls his hand away. Connor hadn't meant to do that, but it still sent a jolt down his systems. 

All of the androids had worked at Karmanos Cancer Institute and they all worked in the same area. This was definitely a lead. 

"Fucking hell, you didn't have to do that weird android thingy. I was gonna answer you." Gavin mumbles, standing up. 

"It's called interfacing, and it's faster that way." Connor points out. 

"I know what fucking interfacing is. God damn, how does Hank stand you? You must be really good in bed if he willingly keeps you around." Gavin snorts. 

Rage builds up and Connor grabs one of Gavin's arms while slamming his down into the desk. Gavin yelps but doesn't struggle in Connor's hold. 

He leans down slightly, tightening his hold. "I don't care what you say about me, but I will not stand for you disrespecting Hank." 

His relationship with the Lieutenant was purely platonic and he never even thought of him once in that manner. 

Gavin's face turns bright red, but from what Connor isn't sure. He shifts slightly, before letting Gavin go. Even then he stays still for a few seconds longer, staring wide-eyed at Connor. 

"He has some people we need to talk to. But I need to check on Sumo first. I can meet you at the hospital or you can join me." He smiles politely and Gavin finally stands back up on shaky legs. 

"I'll come with," Gavin mumbles, staring at the ground. The officers around them quickly turn away when they see Connor looking their way. 

Connor nods and turns on his heel, walking back out of the station. There were a few more hours until the change in the shift so they didn't have too much more time off they decided to end their day with everyone else. 

Neither had taken a lunch break, so Connor really needed to at least let Sumo out to potty before they could continue. 

Gavin followed after Connor, keeping his eyes trained onto the ground and hands shoved into his pockets. 

Gavin drives and doesn't even try to make Connor drop his coin this time. His eyes almost seem glazed over as he stares at the road. 

Connor doesn't question it, just like he doesn't question it when Gavin silently follows him into Hank's house. 

He drops to the ground to pet Sumo before letting him out back. He closes the door and slowly turns when he hears Gavin walking towards him. 

He's ready for whatever Gavin is going to say. What he isn't ready for is for Gavin to push himself against Connor, rolling his hips forward. 

"You think you can just do that and get away with it?" Gavin sneers, pushing Connor back against the wall. "You're a fucking prick. Do you know how much I hate you?" 

Connor stands there shocked for a few seconds. Out of everything Gavin could do—punching, yelling, shooting—grinding against him didn't seem like an obvious choice. 

"You are too perfect. You got this stupid puppy dog eyes, and you can never do wrong. Fuck that, and fuck you." Gavin growls out. 

Connor wasn't exactly opposed but he had hoped this would happen some other way. Maybe after Gavin finally got his head out of his ass. 

"Will doing this make you more agreeable?" Connor questions. He doesn't want to do this just because Gavin is angry. If he was simply pissed then he could go off and find someone else to sleep it. 

"Fuck off. Maybe. I don't know. Just don't slam me into any more desks." Oh, so that's why. 

It made sense, but Connor hadn't thought about that possibility when he had done it. Was it the slamming into a desk or that he did so publicly that got him excited. Perhaps it was both. 

Instead of answering out loud, he grabs Gavin and easily flips them around so Gavin is the one against the door. 

Then Connor pushes their lips together, grabbing him by the hips and one hand around Gavin's throat. He doesn't actually squeeze, but he does put enough pressure for Gavin to feel it a bit. 

Gavin gasps and Connor takes the opportunity. This was far from his first kiss, so he had no problem taking the lead. 

He had experimented after his deviancy and he had found what he liked. There was always more to explore, but that could wait. For now, he focused on kissing Gavin until his knees were weak. 

That goal was soon accomplished, and the main thing holding Gavin up was Connor's body pressed against him. 

So Connor broke the kiss to reach down and pull Gavin up. Gavin yelps and wraps his legs around Connor. 

He easily moves them to his own bedroom and dumps Gavin onto the bed, not even trying to be gentle. If Gavin liked it rough then that's what he was going to get. 

Connor pulled down Gavin's pants and underwear in one motion. He didn't even let Gavin take a breath before he took him in hand. 

Gavin moaned and gripped the blanket under him. "Fuck, Connor." 

Connor smirks at Gavin before leaning down and takes his cock in his mouth. Gavin bucks up into him, but Connor shoves his hips back down. 

Once he has Gavin full-on withering he sucks him to the base. Then he uses his throat and Gavin reaches down and grabs his hair, yanking on it hard. 

Connor hums and continues for a few seconds longer before pulling off with a pop. 

"When the fuck did you learn to do that?" Gavin pants, letting go of Connor's hair. 

Connor pulls his clothes off and throws them towards his hamper. Gavin sits up quickly and pulls his own shirt off before reaching out to touch Connor. 

He lets him explore his body before pulling Gavin into his lap. "Behind a bar." He mutters before nipping down Gavin's neck. 

Gavin drags his nails down Connor's back. He would have broken skin if Connor was a human. Sadly he wouldn't be able to leave a mark on Connor. Though, Connor could leave many marks on Gavin. 

He did try to keep them under where his shirt would be. 

"Fucking ass! Too fucking perfect." Gavin says, once again yanking on Connor's hair. He pulls Connor away from his neck to crash their lips together. 

It's far from gentle, and Connor bites Gavin's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. In return, Gavin reaches down and grabs Connor's cock, roughly pumping his hand. 

"Didn't know you had one of these." Gavin manages to get out between kisses. 

"I thought you were being a dick to overcompensate, glad to see we were both wrong," Connor smirks before pushing Gavin to lie on his back. 

"Fuck you!" Gavin sneers but spreads his legs. Connor reaches over and opens the small drawer beside his bed. 

He didn't need lube for himself, but he kept it just in case he slept with a human. "I was planning on fucking you. You seem like the kind of slut to like that. You like to be used." 

Connor could relate, though. If he was bottoming then he loved that. He loved feeling used and worthy. He wouldn't judge Gavin for what he liked. 

"Yes! Fuck me. Please fuck me," Gavin begged, spreading his legs even wider. Connor opened the lube and spread some over his fingers. 

Without any warning, he pushed a finger all the way in. Gavin let out a shout but didn't ask for Connor to stop. 

He prepped him as fast as he could, adding fingers in without warning. Gavin didn't seem to mind, actually seemed to enjoy it quite a lot considering all the cursing and moaning that came out of him. 

"Fuck me already you piece of shit!" Gavin snapped and Connor pulled his fingers out. 

He was half tempted to slap Gavin's ass but he holds back. "So needy. You're such a slut for me." Connor murmurs as he lines himself up. 

Gavin half-heartedly glares up at him but his expression quickly changes to one of pain and pleasure as Connor pushes in. 

He only waits a few seconds before he starts to move. He'd instantly stop if Gavin asked him to, but that didn't seem to be happening any time soon. 

Connor grabbed Gavin's legs, pulling them so they were hooked over his shoulder. Gavin was babbling nonsense as he sped up, hitting his prostate with each thrust. 

Connor was so close to the edge, but he wanted Gavin to come first. That doesn't seem like that'll take much longer. 

Gavin comes with a shout, and Connor doesn't slow. He spends up just slightly and soon he's coming inside of Gavin. His hips keep rocking until he's completely spent. 

Gavin is completely limp on the bed, staring up at Connor through glazed eyes. 

Connor pulls out slowly and drops onto the bed beside him. His energies are far lower than he'd like. He hadn't thought he'd go through this much exercise and emotional strain so he hadn't actually gone into stasis for a few days. 

"I need to sleep for a few minutes to regain my energy. You can stay here if you'd like." Connor mumbles. A large part of him wants Gavin to stay. He wants to curl up and pull him to his chest. 

He doesn't get his answer before he falls asleep, but he doesn't feel Gavin leave the bed either. 

He's abruptly woken up by a wet, large tongue being dragged across his face. His internal clock tells him he had only slept for thirty minutes. 

He gently pushes Sumo away, wiping his face off before opening his eyes. 

The bed beside him is cold and Gavin's clothes are no longer on his floor. He must have let Sumo in at some point while Connor was asleep.

Connor climbs out of bed, grabbing his clothes and putting them in the hamper before pulling on clean ones. 

He walks out of the room, Sumo following along beside him. The house is completely silent and empty. 

Connor's heart sinks and he stares at the door. He should have expected Gavin to leave. He should have known this was just a way for him to get his frustration out. Yet he couldn't stop the tears that threaten to spill over. 

It wasn't like he hadn't had one night stands before, but this was different. He actually knew Gavin, at least somewhat. He thought there was the chance that Gavin really knew him, and wanted to be with him. 

But of course, he was wrong. Of course, Gavin didn't want him. Who would? He was only good for a quick fuck. Why had he thought this time was different? 

He slowly slides to the ground, tears running down his cheeks. How could he be so stupid? Why had he let himself think Gavin would have stayed? 

He buries his face in Sumo's fur, letting out choked sobs. It was like someone took a hammer to his chest and beat him with it until his thirium pump was in tiny shards all over the ground. If he moved he'd step on a shard and just cause him more pain.

He stays on the floor until he can finally pull in a breath. He stumbles back into his room and curls up on the bed. Sumo jumps up and lies at his feet, laying his head on Connor's legs. 

He closes his eyes and slowly drifts off into sleep. 

 He drags himself out of bed in the morning. He goes through the motions with limbs that feel as heavy as lead, but he has to work. They still have a case to solve, no matter how much it's going to hurt to be around Gavin. 

He'd be completely professional. No snark, no sass. He could do this. He just had to solve this case and hopefully, Hank would be back early. 

Then he could eat all the thirium ice cream he wants, while curled up on the couch rewatching Finding Nemo for the hundredth time. Hank would sit with him and Connor wouldn't even scold him for the beer he would drink or the pizza he would order.

He made sure Sumo was well taken care of before calling a cab. Part of him wants the cab to get in some accident so he doesn't have to face Gavin. 

Sadly the ride goes quickly and smoothly. He gets to the precinct in record time which makes him just want to smash his head into the cab. 

Instead, he climbs out and makes his way in. He doesn't even look at Gavin's desk, heading straight to his own. He had nothing to apologize for. Gavin hadn't given him any indication to stop, and he definitely would have if Gavin had. 

Gavin didn't really have anything to apologize for either. It wasn't like he was required to stay afterward. He didn't have to at least wait until Connor woke up to leave. 

Yet Connor wanted to wake up with Gavin lying beside him. He had done exactly what he didn't want to do until Gavin stopped hating his kind. 

He hadn't even thought of that when they kissed. He hadn't even thought to really think if he was honest. So if there was anyone to blame it was himself. 

He sat down at his desk and clocked in. He'd have to question people at the hospital but for now, he simply logs all the information they had already gathered. 

He goes over the victims and finds some interesting information. The first one to die was an android made specifically to help patients with cancer. The android–Goa–had continued to work as a doctor even after the revolution. 

Another one–Sierra– had been a consulting doctor that often helped Goa after the revolution. 

The other two had been nurses while the ST200 had been a receptionist. Perhaps a human had been angry about being cared for by androids. 

It seemed a bit excessive to beat the androids as much as he did if it was just because of that. There had to be something else he was missing. 

"Let's go to the hospital," Gavin says, causing Connor to practically jump out of his skin. He hadn't heard him walk up, but he had been incredibly focused.

He can't even look up to meet Gavin's eyes before he stands and pushes his chair in. 

If he thought the car rides had been awkward before, they had nothing on this. Connor wasn't going to be the one to break the silence. If Gavin wanted to talk about what had happened, then he would. Until then, Connor would keep his mouth shut and to himself. 

The hospital is pristine and has that odd smell only hospitals could have. The floors and walls were white and the lights bounced off them a bit too much. 

The two flash their badges and ask the receptionist a few questions. Apparently, the ST200 had kept the name Chloe and everyone loved her. Even the humans that had been unsure of androids had quickly warmed up to her. 

They then move on to question the other nurses, but they get the same results. No one had any idea as to who could have wanted them dead. 

There was the possibility that it was another nurse, but none fit the requirements. 

They pull a human doctor aside when the man has a break. 

"So, do you know of anyone who fits this description?" Gavin asks curtly. His arms are crossed and he stands as far away from Connor as possible without seeming odd. 

The doctor thinks for a second before his eyes light up. "There is one man, he just left. His name is Noah Alexander Smith. His son had same cancer as him and was treated here. He sadly didn't make it, but he went into remission shortly after his son's death." 

"You said he just left?" Connor asks, quickly glancing at Gavin. The doctor nods and gives them a brief description before the two run towards the parking deck. 

The man fit the description perfectly and he had a reason to kill. He probably blamed everyone at that hospital for his son's death. 

"Noah Smith puts your hands up," Connor calls out once they finally find him. The man turns to glance back at them before taking off running. 

Gavin and Connor both let out a sigh before they start chasing after him. They chase him until they get to the top of the parking deck. 

Before either can truly react the man turns and fires a gun at them. Both Connor and Gavin reach for theirs, but it's Gavin who makes the shot. 

The man drops to the ground and Gavin quickly runs over to check his pulse. There isn't one but Gavin wasn't surprised, he had gotten him in the head. He pulls his phone out and quickly calls for help, but Connor can barely think over the pain.

Gavin does a quick check over himself, glad to find no bullet holes. 

Connor stumbles closer, pressing a hand against his stomach. It hurts so much but he can't seem to say anything. 

"Can't believe that. We were right there and he still missed." Gavin sighs, shaking his head, but still not looking towards Connor. 

Connor sways on his feet, his vision glitching and warnings flashing in front of his eyes. "He didn't miss, Gavin," Connor mumbles before his legs give out. 

"Shit!" Gavin yells, quickly moving to catch him before he hits the ground. Gavin slowly lowers them until they are sitting, and Connor keeps his hand over his wound. "Fuck, hey it'll be ok, right?" 

Connor blinks a few times to try to clear his vision. The warnings and alerts won't stop and the timer to shutdown starts. "I need, I need to go into stasis. It'll give me more time." He breathes out. 

"No, no you need to stay awake. Connor, come on. I can't lose you." Gavin pleads, pressing his hand against Connor's. He winces at the pain, body jerking slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Have to keep pressure, ok?" 

Connor nods and leans heavily against Gavin. "Yeah. Did you call for help?" 

"Of course I did, you fucking idiot. They'll come and you'll be fine. Just gotta fix you up." Gavin says, pulling him closer. 

Connor's eyes fill with tears as he checks his time. "I really need to go into stasis. Stay with me?" He pleads his arms and legs slowly going limp. 

"Of course, I won't leave you, Connor," Gavin says, before frantically calling for help. 

Connor snorts and nuzzles closer. "But you left yesterday. I fell asleep and you left me." 

Connor can hear how fast Gavin's heart is beating as he brings a shaky hand up to touch Gavin's face. "I didn't think I was wanted. But I'll never leave. I want to stay by your side." 

"Why do you-" his mind is flooded with more alerts and he quickly brushed them away. "Why do you hate androids?" 

"I-I don't hate androids. I hate the man who created them, you. I was just angry and scared. I promise I don't hate you." Gavin says. 

"Oh, well you can tell me more about tha-" he's cut off by his systems forcing him into stasis. The last thing he hears is Gavin yelling his name. 

 He slowly wakes up in a bed that's definitely in a hospital. His internal clock tells him he's been out for five hours and forty-two minutes. 

The main in his stomach is almost completely gone, but it does feel a bit different. 

Once all of his systems are up he slowly opens his eyes. The lights are bright so he turns his head. Gavin and Hank both sit in chairs beside his bed. Hank is asleep while Gavin is fiddling with a coin. 

"I can teach you if you'd like," Connor mutters. Gavin jerks and the coin drops to the floor, but neither of them cares. 

Gavin jumps up and slams their lips together. It's a bit uncomfortable and there's way too much teeth, but Connor loves it anyway. 

Gavin slowly pulls away and presses their foreheads together. "I thought I lost you." 

"You can't get rid of me that easily." They both keep their voices down for Hank. Connor stares at Gavin, not being able to get enough. "Though, I still want to know about why you hate androids, or well, why you hate Elijah Kamski." 

Gavin sighs and sits on the bed, interlacing their fingers. "It's a long story, but basically, Elijah is my brother. We had a big fight and yeah. I promise I'll really explain it later, but for now, I think Hank should be woken up." 

"How about this. You tell me about you and Kamski later but you kiss me a few more times before waking Hank." Connor says, grinning up at him. 

Gavin pretends to think for a second before nodding. "I think I can agree with that." Then Gavin leans back down, cupping his face gently. 

It's much softer than before and Connor feels like he's floating on a cloud. 

"Oh, Jesus Christ Connor!" Hank shouts and both Gavin and Connor burst into laughter. 

[wondershawns]

doctor! connor and doctor! reader them working together and the reader is mad cause at connor because he said that she made a bad decision when figuring out what to do with a patient and yelled at her

A/N: I haven’t slept in ages but my brain won’t let me rest so I guess I just wrote another fic. Thanks for sending this honey, I hope you’ll like it.

.

“Get out.” You told Connor coldly when you entered your apartment and saw him there.

          He was sitting on your couch, and you knew he had been waiting for you. You had given him a key years ago because he was your safe person. He was the one who could come and help you when you were feeling awful, he was the one who could come check up on you, water your plants when you were away, feed your cat when you couldn’t come home. He was the one you trusted, the one friend you had agreed to give a key to for when you needed help.

         You knew the purpose of the key had been lost along the way, because he spent far too much time at your place. He was always around, and ever since you had started dating him the time he spent with you had increased. It was nice, when it started, but now that you were mad at him you wished you had your own space.

“Come on, let’s just talk about this.” He sighed, knowing you would be hard to talk to.

“There’s no talking about this Connor.” You glared at him.

         You hung your jacket and took your shoes off, putting them away before you walked to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Don’t be upset-” He followed you, trying to continue the conversation.

“Don’t be upset?” You turned around to face him, and he gulped with a small step back. “Don’t be upset? Really Connor?”

“I just…” His voice trailed off because he knew he had to shut up. He had only seen you this furious once, and he was never expecting you to feel like that towards him.

“You just what?” You took a step towards him and he moved back. “You just walked into my workplace, stepped in with my patient, made a diagnosis and yelled at me?” Your blood was boiling.

         You couldn’t believe that he was asking you to not be upset. You didn’t want to talk to him, you didn’t even want to see his face, but if there was one thing you deserved to hear from him it was an apology. You deserved a sincere apology, the recognition of his mistakes and no shifting of the blame with a stupid excuse.

“You’re not my superior. You don’t get to step in when I’m treating a patient, and you don’t get to tell me what to do. Did you know that I’ve been on this case for over three years?”

“I- I didn’t know that.” He stuttered, watching you cross your arms over your chest.

“So it means you were allowed to walk all over me?” You rose an eyebrow and continued without waiting for his answer. “She’s my patient. I know her case, every single detail of it. You don’t get to make your own diagnosis without talking to me about it, and you certainly don’t get to humiliate me in front of her and her family.”

“You know that’s not what I meant to do.”

“I don’t care Connor! This is not your case, it’s mine! If you have an issue with my treatment you talk to me, you don’t counter my decision in front of a patient, and you don’t fucking yell at me in front of them!”

“Hon-”

“Shut the hell up!” You exploded. “I’ve been working on explaining this surgery for months because she needs this. I know how dangerous it is, I know all the risks! Your approach won’t work, and you’d know that if you had read her whole file! It’s stupid because she’d be dead before we even get to the tumor. Stay out of my cases.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Get. Out.” You grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch and threw it at him. “I don’t want to see you.” You walked past him and opened your front door, grabbing his shoes to throw them out. “Don’t you dare fucking call me.”

         Connor knew better than to say anything more, and you slammed the door behind him as soon as he was out. You were sick and tired of him never owning up to his mistakes, whether it was in the hospital or in your relationship. He needed to grow up, and he had to learn how to respect you, especially in your work environment.

         You couldn’t take him pulling something like this in front of a patient, it was bad enough if he questioned your decisions in private, but this was way out of line. You didn’t mind him taking an interest in your case, you would happily take suggestions, but he had to do that separately.

         He had to bring things up when you were alone, and it couldn’t be with him saying you were wrong. If he had something to say on a case he wasn’t working he should have suggested an approach and waited for your answer, he had no right to confront you and accuse you of making a bad decision when he was missing more than half the facts.

         Your case wasn’t a textbook case, it was tricky, you had been working on it for ages, and all the nurses you worked with knew it too. In fact, you would gladly hear a nurse’s opinion on this rather than Connor, he had no idea of what it was like to have people disrespect you in the hospital.

         The nurses knew, they all did, no one gave them the recognition that they deserved. You liked them, you paid attention because people tried to erase you too. Everyone thought you were too young, and you did graduate earlier than most people, but it was because you were fully capable of handling this job. Connor was a few years older, he never had to face that, and he was a man.

         People always took an older man’s opinion over a young woman’s, and you knew it better than anyone. Connor was aware of it too, it’s not like you never talked about it. You had a big mouth that got you in trouble all the time, you never stayed quiet when people weren’t being treated fairly, Connor knew how much trouble you faced with the staff and patients, he should have known better than to humiliate you like this.

         You worked for the rest of the week without speaking to Connor, you stayed civil when you had to work with him, but you never said more than you needed to. The tension was obvious, and he did try to talk to you, but it was only to try to serve you an half assed apology and the glare you gave him made him shut up instantly every time.

         You wouldn’t talk to him until he owned up to his mistakes and understood that he wasn’t allowed to walk all over you.

         It took almost another full week for him to find the right words to say to you. You didn’t want to fight again, so you would only listen to what you needed to hear, and it took him a few tries to finally find that. He thought about it a lot, he observed you when you worked, and he came to an understanding of how tough it was to be you some days. He listened to the way patients responded to your diagnosis and advice, he noticed how often they asked for another opinion, and he began realising that his own patients rarely ever did that.

         He poured his heart out to you about it once you finally gave him your attention, and he apologised sincerely for the way he had acted.

“Thank you,” You nodded, appreciating his effort. You knew you had forgiven him before that, but you just needed to know he understood why you were angry, and why you deserved to be.

“Can I please come over tonight?” He asked, praying that you would say yes because he wanted to spend some real time with you. “I miss you.”

“You’re on call until eleven.” You stated, and he almost took it as a no.

“Does that usually stop us from seeing each other?” He frowned and you chuckled as you walked past him.

“No, but I don’t want to be interrupted, so you won’t see me naked before then.” You didn’t have to look back at him to know he was gaping like a fish, and you smiled to yourself as you walked away, focusing on your job and letting the tension disappear between you two to leave place for playfulness again.

.

tags: @connordavidscamera @alilovesshawn @sunrise-shawn @r3ader @everythinghappening16 @5-seconds-of-mendes @sleepybesson @outlandishnerd @sunrisebrashx @definitelynotshawnmendes @turtoix @mariamuses

[joeymozzarello]

Pen to Paper

Chapter Seven

Summary: A simple thesis on a simple book she’d read. That’s all she needed to do. She knew it would be at least a little bit arduous but she didn’t think it would cause this much trouble.

Pairing: Tim Murphy x original female character

Words: 1,511

A/N: i wrote part of this chapter on the same day i wrote chapter one. i’ve been waiting to post it for so long, i hope you enjoy<3

//

“It was a mistake,” Julie said, voice full of regret, trying not to cry. “I shouldn’t have done it, it was a mistake--” Tim stepped forward, hand on his chin, staring down at the mess Julie had made. He took a breath in, opened his mouth, and then closed it shut. “I’m dead. I’m dead. This is it, Americans still have the death penalty, right? I’m dead.”

Tim sighed. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not that bad--” he paused and then looked back at her, scrunching his face. “Okay, it’s kinda bad, but you’ll be fine, I’m sure it’s happened before.”

Julie gave him the deadest look she could muster. “Have you ever printed seven hundred pages of porn from a company printer?” Julie pointed at the printer (which was still going) and the paper spewed out on the floor, showing some very graphic images. “Not only is this a disgrace but I have managed to singlehandedly kill the environment,” she fell into a chair and dropped her face in her hands. Tim held back a giggle as he walked to the back of the printer and unplugged it.

He sat next to her with a grin on his face. “So you clicked on a link from a spam email. Lots of baby boomers have done that--” Julie looked up and hit his arm. Tim started laughing, that most comfortable she’d ever seen him, basking in her embarrassment. 

“It’s not funny!” She hit him again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He giggled. “I just can’t believe you didn’t think about unplugging it in the first place,” he smiled at her so you could see all of his teeth. I could punch him right now-- or kiss him, I could do that too-- she stopped that thought right in its tracks. They hadn’t talked about that night, not one word, and Julie was lowkey glad. She couldn’t handle rejection and she definitely couldn’t handle a relationship, or worse, she was shit scared she was going to end up being a casual love affair-- that would be worse than rejection. So she ignored the fact that it even happened.

“I froze, okay? I freaked out!”

Tim picked up the pages and looked at them, tilting his head. Julie knotted her eyebrows and then hit him again. “Stop hitting me!” There was laughter in his voice but his face was pensive. “What if we give it to the homeless? I’m sure they aren’t getting any--” he dodged another hit. “Alright fine, what do you wanna do with these?”

Julie hung her head in shame. “I don’t know! Shred them, forget this day ever happened,” she sighed. Tim shrugged.

“Alright, whatever you say,” he started collecting the sheets from the ground. “It’s a shame we can’t even use it as scrap paper.”

“Haha, very funny, Timothy,” she rolled her eyes and begun picking things up.

They shredded every bit of paper they’d printed and strangely enough, what she felt most guilty about was the waste of paper. Oh environment Gods, please don’t kill me. She didn’t say this to Tim, he would’ve just made fun of her and she couldn’t handle that right now.

It took two hours.

“What’s the time?” Julie asked, fanning herself with her hand. The heating was too far up and she was wearing a wooly jumper. Tim came up from behind her and patted her hair, an action that felt so intimate somehow. She bit her lip to stop herself saying anything stupid.

“It’s almost four,” he said, walking around her towards his desk. He wasn’t looking at her. “Hey, do you wanna go get ice cream or something?”

“It’s November,” she brushed a hand through her fringe to get it out of her eyes, it flicked back as soon as she let go.

“So?” He turned around and leaned back on his desk, playing with a ball of rubber bands, his auburn hair glistening in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes screaming trouble.

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“When have we ever followed the rules?”

~+~

Julie spoke through a mouthful of ice cream, a smile taking up most of her face, desperately trying to put it away so she could swallow her food. “You’re the worst when it comes to detail, you speak in generalizations only,” she chuckled. Tim gave her a playful gasp with a hand over his chest. “It’s true!” she shut her eyes. “I bet you don’t even know what color my eyes are.”

Tim was silent. Blue, he wanted to say, of course, they’re blue. They’re as blue as the cleanest ocean and the clearest sky. They’re crystal clear and they give everything away. Every glint of excitement, every annoying thought, everything. How could I ever miss the color of your eyes, the depth of your stares, the warmth of your thoughts? How could I ever? Instead, with a sad smile on his face, he said, “I dunno, green? A hazel-y color?” 

She opened her eyes with a loud laugh pointing at her eyes and twisting her face. “Come on, Tim, they’re blue, the easiest color to remember!” She took another spoonful of her ice cream. “I guess I was right, you’re not that observant after all,” she smiled.

The past week had been torture for Tim Murphy. He saw Julie every day, he watched her as she awkwardly stumbled past his office, as she took everyone’s coffee order, as she laughed at the librarian’s unfunny jokes and as she pretended nothing happened between the two of them. He wanted to say something, every day he built himself up to talk to her and ask her what it all meant, if it meant anything at all, if he wasn’t the only one to feel all those squirmy feelings every time he saw her, only to then crumble at the sight of her.

He watched her tuck her hair behind her ear as she licked some ice cream from the corner of her mouth, his stomach flipped. He swallowed, pulling his eyes away from her and back to his little cone. He cleared his throat. “So have you figured out your financial situation, yet?” He asked as kindly as he could but he was sure that somehow it came out wrong. “I mean-- if you’re okay with sharing, I just wanted to make sure that, um...”

She put her hand on his shoulder. God, he was being so awkward. “You’re fine,” she grinned. “My dad transferred me some money that should help till the end of the month, but I have to go back to England for Christmas-- those were his terms,” she shrugged. He tried not to look disappointed. Not because he wasn’t happy about her being back on her feet and being able to eat a full meal but-- he didn’t know why. 

“That’s good,” he said passively, with the fakest smile on his face. 

She tilted her head with a confused look on her face. “Are you sure bout that, buddy?” She teased. His face flushed. “But thank you for asking. It’s good to have a friend here, you had me scared at the beginning, I thought you didn’t like me,” Julie did that thing where she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from feeling awkward.

Friend.

Friend. 

F r i e n d.

Tim took a half breath in and laughed. “Hang on, hang on, who said we were friends? Who told you I liked you?”

“Oh? Oh my gosh, I must’ve gotten you confused with--” she paused. “Shit! Are you not Bill Nye the Science Guy? I thought I was hanging with him! I’m so sorry to bother you, sir,” they both burst out laughing at how stupid that was.

“My, oh my, that was tragic,” he wiped a fake tear. Just like that, she made him feel so light and--

She looked at her phone. “Holy shit, is that the time?” Her eyes were wide. “Tim you have a meeting in six minutes! The head of the department is coming in just for this!” Tim dropped his spoon just as his stomach dropped-- he didn’t know if it was nerves or if it was because their hang out was being cut short.

Julie picked up her bag, and pulled Tim’s arm. “Come on, man, we gotta go!” She tugged at him as he picked up his jacket and then they were off.

Tim and Julie ran a ten-minute walk in under six minutes. 

They got to the conference room meeting just as they were about to shut the door. Dr Connors was already in there, eyeing the two of them and she mouthed ‘hurry up’ as she saw Tim. 

He was about to go in when Julie stopped him by grabbing his sleeve. “Look at me,” she said, a very serious look on her face. She licked her thumb and wiped the corner of his mouth. “There ya go, perfect.” 

Tim walked into the conference room, his heart beating faster than he ever thought it could.

Masterlist

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (viii.)

A/n: please don't hate me for this. I swear it'll get better.

Summary: noticable tension and... sick days?

Warnings: do I even need to warn about angst anymore? I mean, its me we're talking about. Of course it's angst. But also not really.

Word count: 2.2k

***

We're never alone anymore. Haven't been in weeks. It's strictly professional, like it was always supposed to be. But it's killing me slowly not talking anymore. That was always the fun part of this, but I not only ruined any future prospect of us bring linked romantically, but now we're barely even friends. That's what hurts more than anything. Because the things I couldn't tell Connor were things I could tell Shawn and he'd be more than willing to listen to me go on and on about whatever. And Connor listens, of course he does, but he's bluntly honest and sometimes a little overly judgemental. He's always been the rational one in our friendship, while I go and mostly make things a bigger deal than they need to be. I love having him, but I miss how easy it was with Shawn. But every time I think I've built up the courage to talk to him about that night, talk to him about us, I chicken out at the last second.

We're all lounging around the green room, a few of the band members playing their imaginary instruments, going through the chords they've played at least a hundred times before just to be super sure they have it. I snap a photo or two of Shawn fiddling with his inears. They're a little tangled with the collar of his shirt and I have half a mind to go over and help him. So I do, without thinking about it, somehow forgetting that we haven't talked in weeks. That we haven't been this close to each other in weeks. That he probably doesn't even want me anywhere near him after I just left him without warning - like so many girls before me have done. (I thought they were idiots to leave this precious man alone after only a night with him. They were, but somehow I'm one too, now.) Which is probably why his body tenses ever so slightly when he feels my fingers on the back of his neck, untangling the tiny wires.

"Sorry," I say so low I think he can't possibly hear me.

But he mumbles out a soft "thanks" and looks down at himself, debating with himself whether or not he should unbutton his shirt a little more, exposing the black undershirt and the chest hair that peaks through that top. He buttons and unbuttons the same button three times while I stay standing there.

"Leave it unbuttoned," I mutter. "The fans go crazy for it."

He doesn't respond, only looks in the full length mirror that is currently reflecting his tall frame and my shorter one, and finally unbuttoned the shirt one more time, leaving it at that with a single pop of his collar.

My breath catches as I remember leaving marks all up and down his torso, more toward his waist though, knowing just how big the story would be if the fans saw hickeys around his chest and neck. That didn't stop him from leaving them all across me though. I swallow harshly, pushing the thought away as I walk to the other side of the room where my camera bag is sitting. I take out one of my other lenses, trying to decide which one I want more. The one I was using now took the greatest portraits, but the other caught the details in the background, with its wider angle. I'm mulling it over when I the light beside me shifts a little.

I turn my head to see Mike smiling warmly at me. "Hey," I say, switching out the lenses.

"Hey." He just stands there while I take a few test shots around the room.

"Need something?" I ask when he still hasn't said anything.

"Do you have a second to talk?"

I shrug, "Sure. What's up?"

"No, not here. Follow me?"

I furrow my brows but promptly follow anyway. We stand just outside the dressing room, but far enough from the door that you couldn't hear us unless you were literally standing in the doorway - or you know, if there wasn't nearly 50,000 people screaming lyrics back to Shawn's opening act. "Mike, is everything okay?"

"That's what I was just about to ask you."

"What?"

"You look like you need to talk to somebody. And the guys and I have noticed a little bit of… I don't know, tension between you and Shawn lately."

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of anything to explain why he's noticed and why we're being weird. "It's nothing. We got in a fight. It was stupid."

"Well, it can't be that stupid if it has you guys avoiding each other for three weeks. Did something happen?"

"Mike," I plead, not wanting to tell him the intimate details of my one night with Shawn. "Look, don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll be back to normal in a few days." If I could stop being so goddamn terrified of talking to him. "We're just both too stubborn for our own good."

"Are you sure? Because you can tell me. I'm not gonna go out and tell anyone. I'm just worried about you."

I shake my head, "No. Really, we're fine."

"Just a lover's spat, right?" He questions with a smirk.

I let out a nervous laugh, "something like that, I guess."

"Hey," he pats my shoulder sympathetically, "It'll get better. You guys will make up. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, thanks."

"And I mean, you're bound to have a few fights here and there. It's hard being with a person twenty-four/seven for months on end. Especially a significant other. And when the relationship is still so new?" He shakes his head, "But you guys will come out of it even stronger. I can tell just by the way you look at each other."

I furrow my brows, mostly because he thinks we're together. "How do we look at each other?" I ask timidly.

"Like you're the only two in the room." With a chuckle he adds, "sometimes it seems like you want nothing more than for that to be true."

I swallow hard because right now more than ever, I do wish it was true.

---

Shawn literally goes on in less than five minutes, and even though I've been there for dozens of shows already, I feel suddenly really nervous, nauseous actually. Like extremely nauseous. The whole crew is walking toward the stage, but I'm steps behind them all, growing slower by the second as my stomach turns over again and again. We are just passing the bathrooms when I run into the women's room, barely making it into a stall in time to spill my guts. I cough a few times, finally standing up. I try to be as quick as possible because the crowd is getting louder and I can hear Mike on the drums. I rinse my mouth out, grab my camera from the sink and book it to the main stage, practically running into Andrew on the way.

"Where were you?" He asks, but he doesn't seem mad, more concerned. He definitely noticed how pale I looked, just like I noticed in the terrible bathroom lighting. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I mumble. "Just forgot my extra memory card. But we're good."

"Y/n," he catches my arm before I can walk away. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good," I nod and he finally lets me go, just in time to catch Shawn walking onto the stage, the crowd becoming deafening.

"Where were you?" Connor yells in my ear after the first song is over.

"I got sick," I say back, bringing my camera up to my eyes.

"Again?"

I shrug. No, this isn't the first time today that I've thrown up. It's actually the third, but the only person who knows that is Connor, and that's because he was with me when it happened the first two times. I don't think much of it, even though I probably should. I don't get sick often, rarely ever, if I'm being honest. And I especially don't get sick to the point where I'm throwing up. I'm assuming it's just my body's way of finally rejecting all the steady travel I've been doing.

Different time zones every other day, different food, different weather - one day it's hot, the next I need three jackets to provide me even the slightest amount warmth. It's got to be that. There's nothing else I could possibly think of that would have me feeling this sick. Except for one thing…

Please god, don't let it be that. Let it be absolutely anything else in the world but that.

---

Connor follows me to my room after the show and I plop against the cool pillows without any thought at all. But I feel his eyes on my aching body.

"What?" I groan, sparing him a glance through my hooded eyes.

"You've gotten sick a lot today."

I hum, "I'm fine. It's probably just a stomach bug."

"Could be that," he nods and sits down next to me. "Or it could be something else."

My body stiffens at the thought. "Connor-"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

I let out a broken sob, covering my face. "I don't know."

"Y/n… how could you be so careless?"

"I wasn't! We were safe!" I say, removing my hands from my face dramatically.

"Clearly not safe enough if you might be pregnant."

"Stop saying that. I'm not!"

"You don't know that, though. That's the problem. That you don't know. This could be really bad for you, and Shawn! Your careers are literally at their peaks. You can't have a baby right now."

"You think I don't know that? You think I want to raise a baby on my own at twenty-one?"

He frowns, "what makes you think you'd raise the baby alone?"

I only glare at him. "Really? A twenty-two year old rockstar, who can literally have any girl in the fucking world, is going to settle for his knocked up tour photographer. Think about that for a minute, Con. That type of thing doesn't happen in real life. That's movie stuff."

"He'd be a great dad, you know." He says it softly, mostly to himself.

"I know," I sigh. "But not now. I can't spring this on him now. Especially not when we haven't really spoken to each other in weeks."

"You have to tell him."

"Not if there's nothing to tell. And why are you all of a sudden on his side? Every chance you get you're telling me that he and I can't be more than friends. What's this 'he'd be a good dad. You have to tell him'?"

He just shrugs, "despite everything that I tell you, I really do like Shawn as a person. I tell you all these things because I don't want to see you get hurt. He's gone so much and whether you like to admit it or not, you need attention."

I gape at him and slap his arm, "I'm not an attention whore!"

"That's not what I mean," he laughs. "I just mean, with him being gone like 10 months out of the year, you're not gonna get the attention that's needed in a relationship. You'll feel left out. He'll feel bad for not being with you more. You'll both be miserable. And I'd hate for that to be the case."

"And what would that mean for… this hypothetical baby?" I ask, putting my hand on my stomach.

It takes him a while to say anything, "I think he'd stop for that. I think he would do everything he could to be a part of the baby's life. But a girlfriend is a different priority than a baby is, y/n. He doesn't have to stop for a girlfriend. But he would for a baby. Especially because you know he wants kids. He wants to give them the world and he'll stop at nothing until he does just that."

I don't say it, but I know he'd do the same for a girlfriend. Maybe not stop touring, but I have first hand experience on what he would be like as a boyfriend. Attentive and sweet and cautious and aware. He does all the things Connor says he won't be able to, and that's what makes it so hard for me to back away from this.

---

After another agonizingly long hour of discussing what I should or shouldn't do, Connor finally leaves the room. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning against the door. This whole night was too much, first with Mike and then Connor. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't girls claim to have guy friends because there's less drama?

My phone buzzes from my nightstand where I put it to charge only minutes ago. I roll my eyes, still standing at the door, and I wait there for a good three minutes before I make my way over.

Shawn's name lights up my screen and my heart falls into my stomach. I gulp as I read the text over and over at least three times.

We need to talk

I pray to God that it's not as bad as I'm anticipating. But then I remember what I might have to tell him and I know it will be.

Yeah we do. My room, 10 minutes?

How about 5?

Ok…

And just as I throw my phone down on the bed, another wave of nausea hits me. Jesus Christ, please don't let me be pregnant.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson

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[breakingsomething]

when nothing’s left

hey! sorry i haven’t written anything in a while, i’ve been very unmotivated. anyway, here’s this thing that i did- i might continue it at some point if i can be bothered.

trigger warnings for suicidal ideation, blood n shit

chase brody is on top of the world.

at least, that’s how he fancies himself. in reality, he is sitting on the edge of a tall apartment building, overlooking the city from the ledge he is perched on. chase is very much surprised that there are no fences or anything around the roof, considering how easily he’d gotten up here. all he’d had to do was smile charmingly at a woman at the door to the stairwell and she’d let him borrow her access key to the roof. it was very stupid of her. chase couldn’t believe his luck.

the wind blows his hair wildly, and the cold air feels like it’s slapping him in the face. he clings to the ledge and swings his legs in the endless open space beneath him, squinting his eyes to help him see. across the city, he can see minuscule planes and taller buildings silhouetted against the reddening sky, and when he looks down he can see the hundreds of cars and pedestrians passing beneath him. so oblivious, chase thinks. can’t they see the world is ending?

behind him, chase hears the now familiar glitching sound and accompanying thump that warns him of the arrival of a person he really doesn’t want to see right now. chase doesn’t turn and the man sighs loudly and throws himself down besides chase. there is a solid minute of silence where they both look out at the everything and the nothing of their city sprawled out in front of them.

finally, anti speaks. “hey. i’m here now.”

chase ignores him.

he hears anti shift his position. “you know, i’m still gonna be here whether you want me to be or not. you’re kind of stuck with me now.”

chase wants to cry or scream or push the demon off the side of the building just so he can see what it feels like.

anti makes a few odd sounds, no doubt to get on chase’s nerves. “why are you up here?”

when chase once again doesn’t answer, anti begins to get pissed off and pokes him in the arm. even his fingers feel sharp somehow. “yo, bitch! stop being so fucking depressed and talk to me, for fucks sake.”

chase pulls away from him, still without looking at him. “yes, i get it, you’re an attention whore.” his voice is scratchy. it’s the first words he’s said in hours. “now can you fuck off and leave me alone?”

anti lets out a breathy laugh. “wallowing in self pity isn’t exactly going to help either of us now, adidas. man the fuck up.” he shifts his position again and chase bites back the urge to yell at him to pick a spot and stick with it. he instead stands up, so quickly his head spins. his feet are on the very edge of the rooftop. if he moved an inch, he’d instantly fall to his death. for a moment, he thinks of all the people down below and what it’d be like for them if a person suddenly fell from a building above them. it could hurt someone if he fell on top of them. he could traumatize someone. he could get someone into a great deal of bother if they hung around the scene and were interviewed by nosy news reporters wanting all the details of the latest tragedy.

it doesn’t really matter. no one down there is real, and the world is ending.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts when anti grabs his arms. “hey! hey, hey, hey, no killing yourself here. not on my watch.”

anti glitches and is suddenly on his feet next to chase. he pulls chase away from the edge, dragging him towards the centre of the rooftop. chase says and does nothing. there’s nothing else to say or do.

anti stands before him, and chase finally tears his gaze away from the november skyline to look at him.

he used to be a terrifying entity. he always had been, from the day chase had first seen him grinning wickedly and holding henrik’s motionless body before disappearing with him for the next nine months, to the day he had appeared in the hallway of chase’s house, turning the world red, right eye gleaming, to the day he had found chase wandering the city, cold and without his hat or jacket or bag, waiting for something that would kill him. but now he looks almost completely human. his eyes are a dull green, so different from how bright they used to be. his skin is sickly pale, like chase’s. even his brown hair seems flat and lifeless. he doesn’t even constantly glitch like he used to. the only inhuman thing about him is his neck wound, which is stained with dried blood that he hasn’t bothered to wash off. chase studies him as anti huffs loudly, wrapping his arms around himself. wearing a pma zip up hoodie and his signature black ripped jeans, he looks just like jack. it sickens chase. he wants to slap the angry demon just to see if he’d snap and kill him.

anti breaks eye contact and rolls his eyes. “ok, whatever. you’re boring.” he goes over to the roof door and plops down next to it, closing his eyes. chase knows there’s no point in going back to the ledge. anti would appear next to him before he could even get up the courage to jump. not that he was planning to. not yet, at least.

instead chase marches to the door and flings it open, making his way down the stairs. the air down here is somehow colder, maybe due to the depressingly dark walls that all look wet for some reason. he wonders where the woman who gave him the rooftop pass has went. he can hear anti calling after him, and hears when anti appears next to him. the stupid glitch sound that used to charge dread into the hearts of him and his brothers makes him feel sick and fills him with rage. he stops and spins towards the demon. “why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”

for a moment, anti looks surprised, but he instantly wipes his expression and chase wonders if he imagined it. 

“why don’t you- all you’ve ever wanted to do was kill me and jack and my brothers and- well, here’s your opportunity!” chase spreads his arms wide, not caring that he’s shouting in this public stairwell. “so kill me! torture me if you have to! come on, isn’t this what you wanted?” he’s crying, and anti’s blank face is making him want to hit him. “isn’t this what you wanted?”

for a moment anti says nothing. then he breaks out in a huge grin. “it’s more fun to watch you suffer.” he says nonchalantly. anti pushes past chase and jumps onto the banister, sliding down the stairwell out of sight, leaving chase shaking with rage and grief.

he finds the woman halfway down to the bottom of the stairwell. she’s slumped against the wall in between two doors. her throat has been slit open. there’s no knife left behind. chase leaves the pass on her unmoving chest and continues walking.

chase finds anti waiting for him in the lobby, sitting at the bottom stair and tossing his bloodstained knife from hand to hand.

“why’d you kill her?” he asks casually.

anti shrugs. “she was annoying. i was walking up the stairs after you cause i’d seen you go in the building, right, and she was there and she was all like, hey aren’t you the guy i let onto the roof? and i was like no, that’s my brother, and then i asked why she let you up, and she said because you had an apartment here and you’d shown her your id and house key, and i asked what you’d said your name was, and she was like oh, some german name, i can’t really remember, and then i realized this was the ol’ doctor’s apartment building and that’s why you were up here, right, but the woman was starting to be all weird and she started saying weird stuff and her eyes went weird, so i killed her. are you listening to me?”

chase is not listening to him. he is staring at the noticeboard hung on the wall, which is mostly covered in graffiti and advertisements. but in the centre is a poster- a wanted poster, a proper wanted poster, with chase’s face on it. wanted for the murder of wife stacy brody and kids louise brody and connor brody, said the poster. he doesn’t read the rest of it. he simply leaves the building. 

it is freezing cold out, but he doesn’t care. he shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and starts walking, tuning out the cars and trucks roaring by and the loud chatter of passerbys and the group of people busking on the corner and the people yelling across the streets to each other and the wind roaring in his ears. all the sounds make him want to claw his ears off so he never has to hear anything again, especially not that terrible glitching sound that he hears now next to him, or the familiar voice asking him to stop in a strained voice-

he turns. anti is standing just behind him, bent over, hands on his knees. the crowd of people part around him as though he isn’t even there. chase considers leaving him. but he’s curious as to what is putting so much pain in anti’s voice.

“what- what’s up?” chase asked tentatively. anti stands up straight. his face is completely drained of colour. he doesn’t answer chase’s question, just stumbles to his side. 

“where are we going?” anti says. chase doesn’t care enough to challenge his decision to ignore him.

“i don’t give a fuck where you’re going, but i’m out of money. probably going to sleep in the park again.” he turns away from anti and begins walking again.

“wait!” anti calls, and chase groans before stopping. 

“god, what the fuck do you want?” he knows there’s no point in being angry. but this whole situation is becoming his worst nightmare. his brothers- jackie, marvin, henrik, jamie- are all gone except for the one he didn’t want to be stuck with, and the world is fucking ending.

“i can get money,” anti says. the pain is gone from his face, and he gives chase a wicked smile. “wait here.”

he dissolves, leaving chase staring at the empty space where he once was. the fact that none of the people walking around them even notice what just happened tells chase all he needs to know. the situation is getting worse. in fact, as he looks around, he can see that something is definitely wrong. he can’t tell what, but something is off about the crowd, all  jabbering loudly in chase’s ears. he sits on a bench a couple metres away from where he was. at the other end of the bench is a young woman with dark hair and a long blue dress. chase looks at her face, and he sees what’s wrong- there is no emotion there. her eyes are dead, glassed over, and her mouth hangs open slightly. chase glances behind him, and sees that, yes, it’s the same for all of them- unfocused eyes and blank expressions everywhere. it gives him chills. he turns back around, facing forward, making eye contact with no one.

the world is fucking ending, he thinks for the millionth time that day.

anti is usually back within minutes, but after having sat there for ten, chase begins to worry. not for anti, he couldn’t give less of a shit about anti, but for the poor citizens who are having to put up with him. he wonders what the hell anti’s doing to ‘get money’, and how many people he’s going to kill to do it. chase wonders why he doesn’t just leave anti. then he reminds himself that no matter where he goes, anti is sure to find him. also, whether he likes it or not, he’s all chase has left in the world.

he feels immediately guilty after having thought that. the things anti has done to him and his brothers- he tries to imagine what henrik or jackie would say, knowing he was fraternizing with the enemy. he almost laughs at the dumb way he’s phrased that thought in his head- it makes anti sound like he’s a comic book villain, rather than a heartless murderer. chase closes his eyes.

wahoomp. the familiar sound fills chase with- relief? it couldn’t be that. chase opens his eyes and, instead of turning to ask anti why he’d taken so long, he glances at his watch. “wow, twenty three minutes,” chase quipped. “glitch demon’s gotten slow, has he?” it’s then that he turns to glance at anti, and his heart almost stops at the sight. anti is clinging to the back of the bench, wheezing. his face is white and he looks like he might faint. his nose and eyes are bleeding, and he’s shaking so badly chase doesn’t know how he’s remaining upright. “holy shit,” chase murmured. he’s got no fucking clue what to do. thankfully, the woman on the bench is gone, so when anti drags himself round the side of the bench he’s free to collapse onto it. anti gasps in pain, and leans his head back so chase can see how badly his neck is bleeding. chase stays silent, staring at anti wide eyed. he’s never seen anti hurt before, and he doesn’t know if he should try to help or not.

after about thirty seconds, anti leans forward, his head almost touching his knees. his legs are shaking. he reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, shoving it into chase’s hand without looking at him.

chase clutches it tightly. “man. holy shit. are you…” he falters. anti waves him off, and wipes at his face. all he does is smear the blood around. neither of them point it out.

eventually anti looks up. “let’s get a hotel room,” he says. chase obliges.

they go to the nearest hotel. they book a room for two. the dead eyed man at the desk doesn’t question the bloodstained money, or the way anti is leaning against chase’s shoulder, relying on him to keep him upright. it’s getting worse, chase thinks as he takes the hotel key and pretty much drags anti to the elevator. chase should have realized that was a stupid idea, given anti’s current state. as soon as they step in, the entire thing short circuits, the lights giving out. anti makes a pained sound and leans in closer to chase’s chest. he stands in the darkened elevator, staring out through the opened doors across the hallway to the front doors where they had come in, out to the cars and people passing by outside. he doesn’t know how long he stands there for, but he’s eventually snapped back to reality when he anti mutters “grey? what are… fuck. did i break…” he tries to straighten himself, and as much as he hates it, chase’s dad instincts kick in and he wraps his arms around anti, holding him tighter to prevent him from falling. they exit the elevator and slowly make their way upstairs. a boy is sprawled out on the stairs next to their room. he’s breathing, but not moving, his eyes unfocused. chase opens the door to their room and anti immediately frees himself from chase and runs to the bathroom. he can hear him throwing up. 

chase scans the room. it’s fairly large, with (thankfully) two beds at either side of the room, with a dresser and a lamp on either side. there’s a set of drawers on the other side of the room next to the bathroom door, and above it is a large tv.  across from the room door is a balcony with tall glass doors and cream coloured curtains that match the walls. chase sighs and throws himself down on the bed closest to the door. there is a remote on his bedside table. he turns on the tv and the news comes on screen. it’s the same news report that he saw yesterday, and the day before that, and every day for the last three months. it hasn’t changed. henrik had determined that it stopped changing round about the time that the people of the city had started acting strangely. marvin had figured that without any outside force guiding them anymore, their minds had started to disappear, all personality draining from the and causing them to forget things slowly. chase remembers sitting in his chair in the kitchen, clutching a cup of tea tightly in both hands as the two had discussed this. he remembers the anger he had felt, not towards his brothers, but towards him. how could he have just left them like this? did he not care? had he really forgotten them?

he hears the toilet flush and anti exits the bathroom. he’s still pale and trembling. slowly, he crosses the room to the remaining bed and lays down, facing the wall away from chase. he feels the need to say something.

“so, uh,” he hesitates. “are you sick or something? i didn’t think you could get sick.”

anti is silent for a moment. “neither did i,” he mumbled. “i guess it’s to do with- you know. the bullshit we’ve been left with. we’re probably both going to get progressively weaker and weaker and then we’ll both die.” he says this last bit so bluntly that chase can’t help but be taken aback.

“it’s not his fault-”

“it is his fault,” anti shoots back without hesitation. he sits up and chase can see the ghost of the bloodstains on his face. he looks sick and tired and so much the opposite of the anti he knows. “he fucking left us here to die, adidas. all of us, including your wonderful brothers that he loved so much.” anti sneers, and shakes his head. “he was just using you. all of you. and well, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? wow, i wonder how many views we racked up for him and his fucking channel! probably enough for him to pay his fucking bills for a month or two, maybe he took his shitty girlfriend out to dinner or something-”

“shut up,” chase snaps. he sits up too, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. “it’s not his fault, he clearly doesn’t remember, and who’s fucking fault is that, eh? who was it that put him in a coma in the first place?”

anti laughs without humour. “if we’re being technical, it was really your doctor who-”

“don’t start that shit with me!” chase warns. he’s trembling with rage. “you know fine fucking well that you were posessing him, it was never his fault!”

anti smirks. “what? me? i would never do such a thing.”

tears blur chase’s vision. “how can you laugh about all of this! none of this is fucking funny, we’re both in the same boat here, anti! we’re both going to die if we don’t think of something to-” 

“don’t you get it?” the smile has disappeared from anti’s face and has been replaced with a look of disgust. “he literally left us to die! he doesn’t care! he-”

“he’s forgotten!” chase yells. he stands up and anti almost seems to shrink back. “he doesn’t remember us because of you!”

“don’t give me that horseshit,” anti snarls. he stands too, despite how much effort it seems to be taking out of his body. “he woke up here, asshole. he left by choice. he seemed to know enough to figure out how to get back into his own dimension, didn’t he?”

the anger seems to leave chase all at once, and he positively sags. through the tears, he sees anti’s triumphant face. “you see?” he says quietly. “the wonderful mister jack turns out to not be so wonderful after all.”

chase lies back down. he turns off the lamp next to his bed. he doesn’t look at anti.

...suspect has been apprehended outside of papa john’s on dumberham street by several officers who were tipped off by an anonymous caller. police are working on tracing-

chase turns off the tv. the room is silent.

he takes his phone out of his pocket and opens youtube. he clicks on his subscription list without even needing to think about it and finds the familiar green icon he’s looking for. the last video on his channel hasn’t changed- the thumbnail is still a picture of jack’s face, wearing his glasses and a grey shirt, looking serious with his coloured lights in the background switched off. the title is still the same. chase isn’t sure what he was expecting.

he turns his phone off and sobs silently. he knows anti can hear him, but he doesn’t care. he just wants everything to stop.

outside, the world is ending.

[dickmedownmendess]

The Chosen Two

This has been on my mind for the past week so I finally decided to write it. Hope you guys enjoy! (Also hopefully it doesn’t get removed like my last one *wipes away tears*)

Pairings: Connor x OC

Words: 3.k

Glasses clattered together as conversation filled the luxurious venue. Numerous college students scattered the large room, holding champagne glasses containing God-only-knows. 

          “Either I’m extremely tipsy or just generally nervous, but I think I’m going to barf.” I mutter to my best friend, Avery, as we stood close to each other in the midst of everyone.

Tonight was an award ceremony for UCLA’s School of Film, Theatre and Television. I was nominated for many different categories in the film category, and with the competitive nature I possessed, I desired to win every category I was in. The most important award I was in the running for was Film of the Year which, if won, gives the opportunity to display your talents publicly, while also gaining the exposure to jumpstart your career. 

         “Oh quit it, you’ve done so many talented videos and photo shoots, it would be discrimination if you didn’t win at least one of them.” She ensures confidently. I eyed her quizzically, a humorous smile spreading across my lips. 

         “Discrimination?” I repeat in a laugh. She was always a little melodramatic in her motivational speeches. 

         “For sure, it would be discrimination against a bad bitch honestly.” We both laugh, clinking glasses in agreement to the statement. 

Once it dies down, I scan the room for the one, and the only person that has been heavy on my mind since nominations were announced. 

         “Listen, my type isn’t surfer-white-boy, but that Connor Cashier guy can get it.” Alex whispers to me, her eyes fixed on what I assumed, Connor. Following her gaze, I also looked at the man of the hour–and also the cause of my nauseate. 

He dressed in a grey tailored suit, the jacket opened to reveal a checkered button-up that complimented the suit, and overall posh look. He raked a hand through his prim hair, chuckling at something someone was saying to him. A crowd gradually formed around him, but he remained placid, not an utter amount of uneasiness in his demeanor. 

         “Connor Brashier is my worst nightmare right now.” I admit, Alex looks away from him to give me a perplexed frown. 

         “And why is that? The boy looks like he weighs no more than 90 pounds wet.” 

My gaze lingers on him, momentarily lost in how well composed his film he admitted was. It captured all the aesthetics of nature, it made the viewers look at nature past just its beauty. He raised awareness of our effect on nature, all while tying a story plot to it. He filmed it across many beautiful nature spots in the States (only because it was prohibited to use out of state content). 

He was basically the poster child for the film major, most underclass students looked up to him, like he was a mogul. 

What made it all the more frustrating was how well he handled the popularity. It was always so mysterious. He didn’t smile too much, and he wasn’t smug about his accomplishments, there weren’t any troubling stories about him, mostly just allegations of who he sleeps with and the typical rumor subjects. He simply focused on his filming and chilled with his friends in downtime. 

I didn't realize how long I was staring until his eyes meet mine, the blues in them so intense, they practically shined under the starlight. I quickly avert my gaze back to Alex, sighing. 

          “He’s just so talented. And like–I don’t know. I’m just afraid he’s going to win and continue to get the exposure he basically already has.” I confess, toying with a ringlet of hair out of habit when I’m nervous. 

          “You’re downplaying your own work D, you personified California, and filmed them around California. And told a story. Who the hell thinks of that? You articulated on every detail, I had to use my brain. You know I don't like doing that. Your film is stunning. And if it couldn’t get better, you did it all on the price of your own money. I doubt rich boy Connor can say that.” She states matter of factually, sass lacing her words. I blush, genuinely warm by her, comical, but uplifting words.

          “You’ve always had a way with words, that’s why you need to win that journalist of the year award.” I hug her. 

          “Oh honey, I’m not worried about a stupid award, that’s just justification for objectifying our talents to a mere thing that’ll wind up in our attics...or a box, or a trash...or even a–” 

          “Ladies and gentlemen if you could find your seat at your designated tables. We will start the ceremony shortly.” The president announces into the microphone. Alex huffs, giving a small eye roll. I snicker patting her shoulder. 

          “See ya later journalist of the year.” I tease with a wink. Backing away, I don’t watch where I’m going and stumble into a body. Their hands instinctively grabbed my sides to hold me up. The piquant cologne was the first thing noticed before I even turned, but once I became motionless. 

          “Sorry, Danielle right?” I looked up and blinked mute. Lost for words mostly because I was baffled at his voice, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk—and I’ve definitely had to do a project with him in the past, so that says a lot for the amount of dialogue he uses. Straightening up, I recover smoothly flipping my hair off my shoulder. 

          “Yes, sorry about that.” I give a wry smile, he merely smiles back in response nodding his head. 

We both walk to the same table, he glances over his shoulder noticing me, automatically pulling out a chair for me before taking a seat of his own a few chairs down. I smile at the unexpected gesture, he winks back taking a swig of drink in his seat. 

Looking around the table, it registers that the people seated here are also nominees for the best film. I didn’t even feel threatened by them, and a hinted ounce of guilt surface while I smile at them. Champagne glasses accommodates the table, and I grab one, taking a swill of the bitter drink. 

They didn’t hold back on the alcohol at all. 

Promptly, the different professors of the theatre major began presenting awards. As much as I wanted to be entertained by the witty commentary, the heavy weight of my eyelids kept me blinking, while shifting in my seat, I lightly swayed, grabbing hold of the table to stabilize myself. 

How much did I drink? I wonder, glancing around the table to check if anyone witnessed my drunkenness. Catching the striking eyes of Connor, he smirks, his chest noticeably bouncing in a silent laugh. I giggle as well, looking away and excusing myself from the table. 

My heels felt 10 feet tall as I walked to the bathroom, but I did it effortlessly, disguising how tipsy I truly was. Once in the comforts of the clean bathroom, I look at myself. 

Shouldn’t have done that. 

The world spun, and I was suddenly a lot cuter than before. 

         “Ah shit, I’m drunk.” I murmur, then giggle because in my consumption of the many glasses of champagne, I also swallowed the tickled bug. Wetting a napkin, I patted my eyes, endeavoring to clear up the swirl in her eyes, while not messing up the makeup job Alex did. She made me look stunning, alcohol-aside. “If all fails and I don’t win a damn thing, at least I look cute...right?” I say to myself, while examining my face. Before leaving the bathroom, I pee out a small portion of the liquor, tugging the end of my bodycon dress down on my thighs after I flush and leave the stall. 

Stumbling out of the bathroom, I exhale heavily glancing at the ongoing dull ceremony, then towards the exit where Connor leans on the wall hiding, his back faced me, head pointed down. The liquor confidence ushered my legs to move in his direction, I cleared my voice. 

Mid-exhale, he looks over his shoulder at the sound, the mango smoke blowing into my face as he continues to blow out. I wave it away, snickering. 

          “Is this ‘something to take the edge off’?” I quip, observing how his porcelain face reddens around his structured cheeks, plush lips turning up in a smile. Extending the vape to her, she contentedly takes it. 

          “Something like that. I knew it was going to be long and boring, but that in their is worse than watching paint dry.” He explains watching as I take a drag off the vape. His eyes fixates on my glossy lips, the ghost cloud floating into my nose, before I release the cloud back out on his face. The soft smile doesn’t falter in his features as it does. 

          “It’s so boring I got drunk...on accident.” I add, earning his chuckle. He shrugs his shoulders in a way to say ‘I feel that’. The crowd clapped loudly gaining their attention as all of the theatre winners stood on stage receiving the applauds. I look back at him, his long, shiny hair falls over his forehead until he combs a hand through it to push it back. “You know, honestly speaking–thanks to the cheap champagne–I will confess, you’re the most intimidating person I’ve met. And I’ve met...menaced people.” He quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her. 

          “Well without alcohol I can say the same about you.” I raise my eyebrows at the newfound information. I thought I was transparent: I smile at everyone I pass, and social when needed. “You just carry yourself in a way that I see through that sweet, school-girl façade. As cliché as it sounds, there’s more to you that you let on.” He mirrors my reaction as I tilt my head with a smirk, interested by his explanation. 

Before she was able to reply, a professor of there’s, headed to the bathroom—sees them, “Connor, Danielle, will you make your way back to your seats please. We don’t want to gather a social group back here.” Connor and I straighten up like seized burglars. I nod my head, peaking over to Connor swiftly, to see him still holding the smirk. 

The ceremony continues as we returned to our seats. They were several awards into the Television portion, I peered over to see Alex collected a couple of the “objectifying” awards. As though feeling my gaze, she looks at me, rolling her eyes with an expression that mentally says “shut up”. I giggle blowing a kiss. 

          “And the Kelly Hollywood Television ‘best journalist’ award, this student showed diligence, dedication and always a jovial attitude in whatever she does, the award goes to...Alexandra Smith!” 

Everyone applauded, but I went out of the way to stand, cheering loudly as she narrowed her eyes at me on her way up to the stage. 

         “That’s my bit—girl!” I chirp correcting myself before I acted my true—goofy—self. I could tell I gained eyes from my peripheral while I pestered my bestie, but Connor’s gaze was most capturing, as they scanned down my legs, over my butt, and up till they reached to meet mine. I blushed looking off, pulling my dress down again as I sat again. 

The filming and photography starts as our professors did their introductions to the different categories. I sober up immediately as names began to get called for different awards. Connor earned three awards off of his photography, and I one. In the film-focused subjects I managed to be chosen for three awards. After grabbing my third award, I take a seat back at the table. Glancing over at Connor, he leaned back in his chair relaxed, one elbow is placed on the table, face leaning on it with his finger tapping at his pink lips. He gives a subjective smirk when our eyes meet, making me question the reason behind it. But I divert my attention as they go into discussing the film of the year. 

          “This year has been one full of ups and downs, rewards and disgraces, but what matters is at the end of the day all of you have made the staff, and UCLA extremely proud. The Film of the Year is an award granted to us by alumni, actor and filmmaker, Nicolas Cage. With the accomplishments he has, he wanted to pay tribute back to the School of Film, by allowing the winner to display their talents in a publication with the Cage Network.” Students all around erupt into whispers. Most coming from theatre and television side, who commented how they weren’t given this opportunity.

Sucks to suck. I thought giggling internally.

          “We will now play a snippet of all of the nominees.” The first few videos were executed well, very worthy of the award. Connor’s video comes on now, gaining everyone’s attention instantly by its electrifying music and vibrant effects just from the start. As his went off a few of his friends cheered for him, he sends playful winks to them before looking over at me. Ignoring him, I continue watching as my film shows. 

Nerves rumbled my stomach, the sudden doubt of the turnout on my film clouding my mind as I watched, critiquing it even in its published form. 

Finishing out the rest of the nominees, the screen went black and attention was back on the professor Knox. “All of the films were impeccable, the decision was extremely hard to make, so hard that we have a two-way tie,” we all commenced in disappointed-confused-chatter, “these two films chosen were remarkable, we deliberated indepthly on the scores and grading but they were identical in it’s punctuality and creativity.The winners are…” 

For a moment all sound mutes, only the echoing voice of professor Knox could be heard as he says, “Connor Brashier and Danielle Golding!” It felt like slow motion the way I slowly whipped my head to Connor. He wore a content smile, scooting out of his seat to go accept the award. Blinking back into the reality of things, I pushed out of my chair as well. 

My wide eyes flash to Alex as she’s practically yelling, “that’s my girlfriend!” She earned a few quizzical frowns, causing me to chuckle. 

Still baffled by the choice, I took my spot beside Connor as Knox commanded the rest of the award-winners to come up on stage. Connor and I held the award together, his fingertips pressed against mine as we pushed closer together to fit into the group photo. 

The president said his ending message, concluding the event. Loud chatter drowned out the music playing in the background as everyone regrouped with their people. 

As I made my way to Alex, people stopped to congratulate me, I bowed my head in gratitude, genuinely stunned at all my winnings. I knew I said I wanted to win every category I was in, but I still expected a few awards, not this many. And let me not forget to mention, I’m one step closer to the breakout I needed from winning this award...even if I was partnering on it. 

          “Congratulations biiitch!” Alex yells, an adult walking by scolds her language as soon as it came out. I guffawed nearly dropping all the awards. 

          “Congratulations to you, Ms. objectify our talents and in an attic somewhere.” I mock earning a slap to my bare arm. Playfully wincing, I continued laughing until her face went straight, a soft smirk replacing, her eyes directed to something-or-one behind me. Turning, Connor—and a crowd mixed of giggling girls and ‘star struck’ guys—stood holding the film reel trophy. 

          “I gotta say, that wasn’t the outcome I expected.” Before I respond, I look at Alex, who already knew what to do. She takes my awards informing she was going to take them to the car. 

Facing Connor now, I cross my arms over my chest and give him a quizzical smile, “what outcome were you expecting then?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “for you to win alone, I mean for an actual cinematographer, I’m grateful they found my film great, but you rightfully deserve it.” He acknowledge, extending it out towards me. 

          “I’m a videographer, so, I agree. But I can’t take away from your talents, it really was a tie breaking situation.” I assured with a subtle shrug, pushing the trophy back to him.

          “Connor, Danielle, can I take a photo of you guys?” The journalist asks. All work and no play around here, I guess. I think to myself until the feel of Connor’s hand snakes around my side, delicate and cautious as though I was going to break under his touch. He rested it right at the small of my back. An electrifying feeling coursed my body at the touch. I scooted closer to him, taking in his cologne I got a whiff of earlier this evening. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I tilted my head just enough it nearly leaned against his shoulder. Smiling, the picture was taken and the journalist walks off after thanking us. 

Before Connor release me, he leans his head down close enough that his lips brush the top of my ear. “Think about it, we can be taking pictures just like this on a red carpet someday.” And with that he releases me and sinks into the waiting crowd, engulfing himself in conversation with them. Not leaving me the chance to respond. 

And so I did, I thought about the red carpet pictures, and the bright lights. How I could be famous from my work one day—not that it was my reasoning for doing this, but it wouldn’t hurt to be noted for my hard work—I never thought I would be doing it with him, Connor Brashier, a guy that, before tonight, didn’t how he sounded when he talked.  But I guess if I’m going to be taking pictures with someone, he’s a good pick. I mean, he is easy on the eyes. 

Overtime, people leave, conversation dies down and the clean up crew makes their way in. I stood in the foyer lost in discussion with professor Knox as he told me the details of what was to come for the project. There were minor changes that needed to be made since it was the two of us, but the overall objective still remained the same. 

          “As brilliant as you two are behind a camera, I’m sure everything will succeed ultimately. We weren’t torn between you for no reason. You two bring the most publicity to our part of the school with what you put out. If you guys manage to have good chemistry, there will be a rule of awakening in the world of film.” His words struck me, the amount of confidence he, and apparently the rest of the staff, had in Connor and I. I would have never expected it.

He exits out of the building leaving me with my whirlwind of thoughts. I don’t know Connor. Sure, I’ve worked on mini projects with him, but they required little to no interaction–to add it was a year ago when we did that project. 

This was an entirely different echelon of work. This wasn’t a mere grade, this was meant to provoke feeling into the public, draw their attention and want more. We were basically selling ourselves to the world. 

Still lost in thought, I don’t notice, until the familiar scent fills my nose that Connor also entered the foyer. He was alone–for once–and his hands were tucked away in his pockets his doe-eyes and solemn porcelain face, it always seem as though he was mad, but his lips displayed a smile that decreased that idea. 

         “I don’t know you, and I know you don’t know me, but my gut is telling me this will be a great hit for us both.” Connor moves closer, but stays a safe proximity away as his eyes bore into hers. 

I’m not easy to fall for a pretty set of eyes, and a tempting set of lips but I think I met my match as I feel stuck for words. Clearing my throat I turn away from high slightly, “you think so huh?” 

          “For sure, I’m not trying to sound psychological, but you have an open mind, and a keen sense for capturing things in its raw form. You can’t make that. That’s natural.” 

          “Okay Dr. Brashier.” I flirt, watching his teeth bite into his bottom lip. “Well needless to say, with this project you’ll probably find out that side I don’t let on.” I lower my voice, lightly trailing a finger on his arm. 

          “Danielle.” Alex says at the door, almost on cue. 

Connor shutters, licking his lips as I walk away, keeping my eyes trained on him. “See ya soon.” I whisper at last. 

          “You are honestly too much.” Alex mutters once we’re in the car. 

Batting my eyes innocently I look at her, “what are you talking about?” 

          “Don’t hurt that boy, he seems so innocent.” 

Feigning offense, I purse my lips. “I’m only going to do what he allows, life doesn’t throw bubble wrap lemons at us right?” 

Alex glares at me, “bitch what?” 

           “Exactly.” I say final, knowing I was talking out of my ass, but I did mean what I said. I’m not here to hurt, but he knows what he can and can’t handle. This project could do either one.

—

I honestly planned to make this a one part imagine but now I’m leaning more towards a fic [and depending on if you guys like it I definitely will]. I haven’t thought the plot through completely though so...yeah. Hope you enjoyed this Connor!InASuit content (because I know I enjoy Connor in a suit, no matter how long ago it was). More to come :)

Request can be made here :)

[parkeraul]

hunger – grease!shawn

a/n: anon suggested me grease!shawn on my askbox and as an obsessed person that i am for the 60′s, here i am trying this one little thing. depending on the feedbacks, this might turn into a series. let me know if you like it. pairing: shawn x reader.  words: 1,594 warning: hints of badboy!shawn and badgirl!reader ahead. boldness is going to be well appreciated in here, my dudes. 

One by one, all of the guys were climbing the bleachers to chill after an intense class. A couple of them quickly grabbing cigarettes, enjoying the opportunity as they couldn’t find that familiar figure of the inspector trailing her way all around the schoolyard looking for people to chastise.  Matt appeared right after, bringing soda drinks to everyone and throwing the cans to his friends and Connor followed, fixing his denim jacket as soon as he made his way to the top.  “Where did you get this?” Brian asked, frowning.  “Uhm... my mom got me this.” He could feel the judgemental stare of the boys nearly turning his body into flames as he checked his own outfit. “Had to drop my leather jacket for laundry...” He tried to justify, tilting his head down in shyness.  “Oh!” Ian aggressively held him by the shoulder and wiggled his limbs after whining. “Is momma’s little boy going to show up in diapers tomorrow too?”  “Shut up!” Connor’s arms tried to push Ian away. “This is trending right now, okay?”  “This is pretty much why the both of you haven’t had sex in 3 months.” Shawn’s raspy voice called them out, teasing them and smirking right after. He pointed his chin to a couple of girls looking up at them and grimacing after walking away.  Everybody in that school knew them. Guys would die to be a part of the crew and girls were always daydreaming about them during classes. Even though they used to give the teachers a hard time, they all had a special place in their hearts as well at the end of the day. And it could be shown by the way the gym teacher complimented their performances in a discreet mode or by the way the biology teacher tried hard to hold back a laugh everytime they joked during a test.  People could either eat them up... or hate the group to death. There was no place in between.  The ones who hated had to hate in silence so they wouldn’t get a taste of Brian’s stupid jokes or Ian’s threatens.  “Why is your girlfriend taking so long?” Shawn spoke in a firm tone, bringing Brian back to reality. “Test happens next class and she’s still not here with her fuckin’ notes.”  "Isn’t she down in there running like a dork?” Matt asked and everyone looked down.  She was hanging out with her old friends Lisa and Claire but holding hands with someone... new.  Lisa seemed to feel annoyed by the situation, so she saved herself from being a part of the party by holding her hands behind her back. Claire and Wendy were carrying the new girl around the school with rushed steps as they talked to her excitedly. Apparently, they were showing her all the spots and places inside the school before french class.  The girl couldn’t help being dragged by the two other loud girls and the grouchy one following behind with eyes constantly rolling. Everybody burning her silhouette with hungry and curious eyes as the skirt of her beautiful dress kept on swaying helplessly because, when her legs weren’t tiptoeing fast across the schoolyard, the wind used to show up a little bit rougher just to collapse against the fabric so it could draw the air with the pretty little patterns of her cloth.  They were all smiles and laughs, curiously studying her eyeliner, the style of her hair, the colour on her lips and the new girl pretended to listen whatever they were talking about as her eyes decided to get lost up in there by the bleachers.  “Who are they?” Capturing at least 5 different pairs of eyes inspecting her, she whispered softly to the girls without breaking eye-contact.  “Shawn Mendes’ stupid gang.” Lisa finally decided to speak, still keeping distance.  “Stupid, huh?” She could barely blink now, trying to confirm the ‘stupid’ concept by finding any typical boyish action.  “They’re not stupid...” Wendy said, toying with her dress to avoid looking Lisa in the eyes.  “You say this because your boyfriend is a part of the clownery.” Lisa calls her out once again, giving the boys a disgusting look and they all look away, except for the curly-haired one.  They start arguing and she seizes the moment to put up an internal challenge of who would dare to look away first?  No need to say that he had the same thing in mind.  “Mendes!” Matt called and he just mumbled a quick ‘Hm?’ “Clean up your chin, man.”  Worried, Shawn raises an eyebrow and has to give up on glancing at the pretty girl surrounded by Wendy’s friends.  “Why?” His hand makes the way up to touch his skin and everyone starts to laugh.  “You’re drooling all over the outsider!” Connor shouted and quickly covered his mouth when he saw Shawn’s fingers making a fist.  “Someone’s getting over Ashley!” Ian teases and the guys are now gathering around to make fun of him while they could.  Because Shawn had been always wearing this serious look on his face and acting like a leader so he would never be seen as the foolish member of the squad – and then nobody would ever try to confront him. And the boys learned to treat him like this after finding out that he wasn’t quite the polite guy when people stepped on his damn nerves.  Lots of hands shaking his body relentlessly and he kept the flat look on his expression, breathing deeply and bringing two fingers between his rosy lips, whistling loud and making the boys step back, fixing all of the jackets and hairs as they kept on joking silently.  Wendy catches Shawn’s eyeballs peeking her and he opens his arms in complain, quietly waiting for her to get the hint of his impatience kicking in.  Wendy finds the stairs and goes upwards, promptly taking a small paper from one of her pockets and giving it to Shawn. When he’s about to grab it, she pulls back.  “Three magic words?” Wendy asks, lips slightly apart as her hand goes to the back of her earshell, waiting for the answer.  “Gimme this shit.” His thick arm stretches towards her, palm open to receive the note as he speaks through gritted teeth.  “Wrong answer, mister.” Wendy turns to steal a quick peck from Brian’s lips and hides the paper filled with the answers to the french test inside the pocket of his black shirt. “Pass it on if he behaves.”  Lisa, Claire and Y/N are down in there near the trees. Lisa checks on her nails and Claire tells the new girl about how lovely Connor is and how she thinks that the rest of the group is about to ruin his innocence. Clearly a crush. And she’s not the only one with a crush.  Wendy has to stop in the middle of her way downstairs.  “Who’s that girl?” Shawn’s tone asks her rigidly.  “What girl?” Wendy plays the fool.  “Don’t fuckin’ make me ask you twice.” He throws and Brian is about to affront. Shawn notices and acts ‘cool’ to avoid fighting his best friend, still keeping his unmistakable attitude. “That one in the pink dress!” He points harshly and then lets his palm smack down against his thigh covered by the tight jeans, trying to vanish away the stress somehow.  Down by the trees, the conversation goes the same way.  “Who’s the curly boy?” She asks and Claire is quick to answer, just like when you ask someone about The Beatles: they could tell you all the details from head to toe by heart.  “Shawn Mendes, the one and only.”  “Her name is Y/N. But you don’t wanna get out with her.” Wendy says.  “But you don’t wanna get out with him.” Claire unconsciously imitates.  “Why not?”  “Her brother is a senior! He’s always bookin’ inside this amazing Camaro and he picks her up after the last classes everyday. You don’t wanna piss him off, believe me. He’s super duper jealous!” Wendy explains.  “He’s a piece of shit.” Lisa gets in the middle and warns. “He broke up with Ashley last summer and I had never seen anyone cry that much after vacation.”  “And no one could ever date him. He’s out of everyone’s leagues.” Claire vents, exhaling deeply. “Lucky ones who ever got their chance to place a kiss right onto his beautiful lips...”  “EW! Seriously, stop that or I’m going to throw up right here right now.” Lisa interrupts and she’s back at glancing him one more time.  As his greenish eyes move to catch hers, she can listen something about how unreal his skills were when things came to music and he could hear how she easily learned 4 languages during her whole life.  “She’s a fox!” Matt slips out... “He’s a hunk!” And Claire copies the context again.  “But you better watch out, ‘cause he’s a badass.” Lisa finishes.  “Go slow, she’s a badass.” Wendy gives her final information.  “Maybe we should see about that.” Both Y/N and Shawn are letting these words fly away from their lips in response and the inspector shows up to call everyone’s attention to head back to their classes. The guys were putting the cigarettes down, the girls were rearranging their skirts and people started walking back to the building.  Classroom filled with nervous students as the teacher walks in.  “Bonjour.” The teacher spoke flatly.  “Bonjour, professeure!” Y/N answers, catching her by surprise.  Well, not only her.  Maybe someone’s not going to need notes in a paper anymore. 

[finnofamerica]

Kissing Under The Mistletoe - JoJo De La Guerra x Reader

Summary: 12 Days of Christmas - Day 8. It's been three years since you've seen JoJo, turns out there is a lot to need to be resolved.

Word Count: 1836

》Fluff《

|| Masterlist ||

It's been three years since you'd last seen your best friend JoJo. Sure, you'd frequently message each other, but it been three years since you'd seen his face, seen his smile, heard him laugh.

You were so conflicted when he left to follow his dreams. You loved him and supported him, but at the same time you love him and you didn't want him to leave. Yeah, you succumbed to the cliche and had fallen in love with your best friend. You knew he'd waste away in this town, so you pushed your feelings aside and saw him off in a very tearful goodbye from both of you.

But that was coming to an end tonight.

You'd gotten a text early that morning from JoJo saying that he'd be arriving at the airport at noon and if you could pick him up. Luckily, your boss was understanding, he'd known you and JoJo for years. You both worked for him for the majority of high school and he very quickly picked up on your feelings for JoJo before you were even aware that they existed.

So you stood in the baggage claim of the airport, waiting for any sign of your friend, even just a little glimpse of his messy brown locks.

“Y/n!” his voice shouted from behind you. Of course you were facing the wrong direction, you cursed yourself. Within seconds of turning around, he had you wrapped up in his arms spinning you around with gusto.

“God, I missed you so much,” JoJo admitted breathlessly as he set you safely on the ground.

“I missed you too, Joey.” You beamed at him. More than you know, you thought.

“So, what have you been up to?” He asked, slinging an arm around your shoulder, his suitcase secured in his other hand.

“Mostly the same stuff,” you shrugged, “Sadly, I'm still living with my parents. They dont mind much since I started taking online classes. I still work for Ron and Robert at Libby's. Other than that, life has been dreadfully boring without you in it. You?”

He grinned widely, animatedly telling you of his adventures in dance and theater and all the friends he'd made. All the while gesturing wildly  with his hands.

“Anyone special in your life?” you asked, cringing internally as you did - of course you had to torture yourself with the question.

“Nah, I've been too busy.” JoJo laughed. “What about you? Damon finally sweep you off your feet?”

“As if,” you snorted at the mention of your nemesis, “I wouldn't touch that demon with a thirty foot pole.”

“I still think he likes you.”

“Are you kidding me? He's an asshole! I'd die before I even considered him as a viable dating option.” You shook your head, setting his suitcase into the back of your car. “To your moms’?”

“Yeah, I'd like to get a nice shower in before dinner at your place.” He grimaced at the grease in his hair.

“How'd you know about that?” You questioned, starting up the car.

“Your mom invited me as soon as she got word from my mom that I was coming home. It was supposed to be a surprise, but our parent can’t keep secrets, so I figured I'd just tell you.”

The rest of the ride was quiet as he took in the familiar sights of his hometown and you took in the comforting familiarity of his presence, hoping that your face wasn't red from your heart  beating as hard as it was.

--

“So I'll see you at six?” You asked as you brought his suitcase to the front step.

“I wouldn't miss a chance to have some of your mom's Shepard's pie and you know it,” He joked, his brown eyes alight with happiness.

“Hey, JoJo,” You said seriously, grabbing his full attention, “I'm really glad you're home.”

“Me too,” He beamed at you once again, bidding you a ‘see you later’ and leaving you to head home in silence.

--

Six o'clock came all too quickly and too slowly all at the same time.

“You're dressed nicer than usual,” Your mother commented as you paced the kitchen.

“What? No I'm not.” Your face heated up. You were dressed nicer than usual. Not in a way that should've been obvious, but just enough to make it feel like a special dinner. It was a special dinner.

Your heart leapt from your chest as the doorbell rang, your little brother jumping up to get it.

“How do I look?” You panicked.

“Beautiful as usual, Darling,” Your mom assured, but her next comment made you scowl. “JoJo will think so too.”

“JoJo will think what?” He asked. Did fate hate you? Did he just have to walk in at that moment?

“That my mom's food is the best!” You played it off, hoping your face wasn't as red as it felt. He was wearing a well tailored button up and jeans, and you swore he'd gotten more fit since he'd been away. This was not boding well for you.

“As true as that may be, I'm pretty sure I'm legally obligated to say that my mother's cooking is the best.” He laughed.

“Sister Ruth does make excellent bread pudding.” Your mother commented. “The rest of the family is in the living room, Dear, if you'd like to join them.”

“Actually, I was hoping to hang out with Y/n for a bit,” He gave an innocent grin.

“I was gonna help my mom set the table,” You scratched your arm nervously.

“Oh, that's quite alright, Darling. Sister Ruth and I can handle it,” She ushered you off, “Besides, it's been so long since you've been able to spend any quality time with Jo.”

You wanted to scowl at her, but she just beamed at you with innocence - like you didn't know what she was doing.

You and JoJo sat in your bed like you were once again in highschool. You just talked anxiously about your classes until you finally relaxed into his presence. He was your best friend after all, what reason did you have to be nervous around him. Your feelings aside, under all that mess, he was still perfectly and wonderfully JoJo.

Dinner went by without a hitch, for the most part. You were happy as he went into detail of his travels and his friends, but he seemed to be living a much better life in New York than he'd ever had here. Again you were happy for him, but you longed for the ways things used to be. Or rather, you longed to be around him longer. He would, eventually, go back to that life.

“Let's go take a walk,” JoJo whispered in your ear as you rinsed your plate in the sink.

“But dishes,” You protested.

“Connor can do them. Please?” He pouted. Him and those stupid puppy eyes.

“Fine,” You sighed, unable to keep the smile off your face as he cheered.

Bundled up in your winter jacket, you followed JoJo out of your driveway and down the sidewalk. Neither of you speaking until you'd turned around and were already halfway back to the house.

“I can't even begin to explain how much I've missed you,” JoJo said suddenly, interrupting the comfortable silence between you.

“Well, if you missed me as much as I missed you, then I have some idea,” you laughed nervously, hoping you weren't being too obvious.

“I doubt you missed me as much as I missed you.” He sighed, “I've had a long time to think over the past three years and…. As much as I love life in New York, there is something very important missing from it.”

“Snowball?” You scrunched your eyebrows together, coming to a stop in front of your front door. Snowball was a cat adopted by Sister Ruth around the same time she'd taken in JoJo, friends for life.

“As much as I do love and miss Snowball, no, that's not what I was talking about.” He laughed. You loved that laugh. He coughed before continuing, “You, you knucklehead. You're what's missing. What I'm missing. I was so excited for the first couple months and all I wanted to do was share it with you, but you were never there. At first I mistook the emptiness I was feeling as homesickness, but it would never go away when I spoke to my mom. Only when I talked to you would it ease, for a while at least. What I'm sayi-”

He froze in the middle of his sentence, his finger tangled in his hair as he stared at a spot above the door.

“Joey?” You prompted.

“Do you think they're mocking us?” He questioned, pointing to what he was staring at. If you weren't red before, you certainly were now. Directly between you and JoJo was a bushel of mistletoe, tied together and hung above the door.

“You were saying?” You prompted again, trying to ignore the plant that condemned you.

“Right,” He broke his stare on the mistletoe, turning his eyes on you instead. “What I'm saying it, I never should've left you-”

“You really should have,” you interrupted, “You would'da wasted away here Joey and you know it.”

“Can I finish?” He rose a brow at you. You nodded, it was strange to see JoJo so serious. In fact you hadn't seen him this serious since he'd told you that he was moving away.

“I never should have left you, Y/n, but if I hadn't I still would've been the oblivious idiot I was when I left.” He gripped your hands in is, if only to ground himself. His gaze didn't turn to your face with his next admission. “I'm in love with you. I've probably always been, but it's taken me this long to figure it out and I just-”

“Jo?”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where he was staring at your hands.

“Are you gonna keep talking? Or are you gonna kiss me?” You asked, suddenly feeling bold as you processed his words. His eyes went wide in shock for a second, then that beautiful smile graced his features. Both hands let go of yours and moved to cup your cheeks.

“Are you sure?” He asked. He'd leaned in so far that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“Absolutely.”

His lips connected with your softly at first, then growing more passionate as three years of longing poured from you both. Any chill in the air was forgotten as he pulled you close to him, as if you'd suddenly disappear.

You could feel his pants of breath against your lips as you finally broke for air, not ready to back away but not quite ready to kiss again.

“Well it's about damn time!” Your mother commented out of the blue.

“Mom!” You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in Jojo's shoulder. He, however, dissolved into laughter.

“Man, it’s good to be home,” He patted your back fondly, the laughter not leaving his voice.

--

Tags: @albertdasillva @glowstick-anon @smoke-anon @kingofsantafe

[connorandersons-blog]

Let’s Give them Something to Talk About, Chapter 5

Rating: Explicit     Word count: 6,138         Ship: RK1000 (Connor/Markus)   Chapter: 5/5

Summary: The Jericho team plus Connor need to think up a way to distract the  public from the fact that North punched a very important human. What  better way than the Deviant Leader dating the Deviant Hunter?  

Thank you to @gavincantreedthis for beta reading this!

---------------------

Connor went back to work and a few officers came up to ask about Markus. It's oddly easy to be super vague and avoid the question, so that's what he did. 

Gavin gave him a pat on the back, and a whispered good luck. Connor had gently slapped the back of his head which turned into a playful fight. At this point, everyone was used to this so they just went about their day while going around them. 

Connor let Gavin win who gave a shout and ordered Connor to get him coffee for his win, even though he already had one. Connor rolled his eyes, but did it anyway, adding a bit more sugar in than he knew Gavin liked. 

The day went smoothly, well as smoothly as a day can go as a detective, but Connor still couldn't stop thinking about Markus. 

He thought about how he had traced each scar with his fingers, how the paintbrush glided over his darker skin. He thought about when Markus sat up and placed his hands on Connor's thighs. He imagined himself closing that distance and completely ruining his own painting. 

He thought of each of their kisses and how it shocked him each time. How he always craved for more, but never pushed past that wall that told him it was all fake. How stupid he had been to not realize what Markus was implying when he wanted to go somewhere private. 

He thought about Markus's arms around him on his bike, how he kept close to him even when no one was looking. It was all so obvious and yet Connor had mistaken it for being a lie. 

Maybe at first, it had been. Maybe Markus hadn't realized his own feelings, but now he knew. Why hadn't he told Connor? Wouldn't fake dating him be agonizing? It just didn't make sense. 

They couldn't stop, though, and Connor couldn't risk making it more awkward for either of them. So he'd keep his knowledge of Markus's feelings a secret from everyone. Well, everyone except Gavin, that was. 

He thought that his mind would calm after that day, but each day was something new he remembered. A small little detail he fixated on until it drove his crazy. 

He had to keep himself from daydreaming too much. If he let that go on then he'd no doubt fall farther into the whole that he wouldn't be able to climb back out of. He had to keep to his objective and not be swayed. 

It was even harder when Markus would message him and he couldn't stop himself from blushing. It just made him think about the club, Markus's hands on him. Markus's mouth on his neck- hands up his shirt. The feeling of Markus pushing him up against the wall, on clear display for literally everyone to see. 

He had to rush to the bathroom to take a few seconds to breathe. No, he couldn't keep this up. Maybe he could block some of his memories out, yet the idea made him instantly shrink up. He didn't want to, but this was getting out of control. 

»From Connor

I need help.

»From Gavin

whats up?

»From Connor

I can't stop thinking of Markus in… certain situations. What can I do to relieve this?

»From Gavin

well, you got your answer right there. jerk off 

»From Connor

Gavin! I'm being serious! I don't want to block off any memories, but they keep popping up. 

»From Gavin

i am too! jerk off to the guy once or twice, itll hold you off til you grow a pair and saying something to him

Connor huffed and glared at the message. He wasn't ever planning on letting this temporary infatuation come to light or even be pursued. Markus never had to know. 

»From Connor

Gavin, I can't. That's inappropriate, and I don't even know how. 

»From Gavin

well shit. uh, you got the parts for it right?

»From Connor

I do. I've just never done it before. I don't know what will and won't work or what to expect. 

Plus, he was currently hiding in a bathroom stall. He wasn't going to just do it right there, that was completely unsanitary and unprofessional. 

»From Gavin

fucking hell. you just do it. youll figure out what feels good, watch some porn or something. you could even ask markus for advice if you really need help

»From Connor

No! No, I can't ask him! Thank you for the advice, though, I will take it into consideration. 

»From Gavin

you do that robocop

Connor rolled his eyes and leaned back against the stall closing his eyes. That was a bad idea because the memory of Markus pressing against him came rushing back. 

This had to stop and it had to stop now. As long as no one came in, it would be fine. He'd do this, then get back to work with a clear head. 

He slowly pulled his pants down, folded them, and set them on top of the toilet, making sure they wouldn't fall in. Then he did the same with his underwear. 

He reached down and gently wrapped his hands around himself, giving a gentle tug. He gasped and put his free hand out to steady himself on the wall. It was more stimulation than he expected. It wasn't like he had to touch himself there at all, after all, he didn't, well, use it. 

He stroked up slowly, his fingers curled tightly, his breath catching as his thumb flicked over the head. He tried not to think of Markus, but that was a complete failure. 

His hand was a bit awkward at first, but then he imagined Markus's hand over his, guiding him. Each stroke became more and more confident until he was gasping and biting his lip. 

It was too much, yet not enough. There was something he was reaching but he just couldn't get over the edge. 

He couldn't stop the idea of Markus murmuring praise in his ear like before, calling him a good boy again. It was terrible and he felt so dirty for thinking it, but that's what sent him over the edge. 

He had to stop himself from making too much sound as he came, his legs weak and shaky. It's one of the most intense experiences he's had, but also incredibly pleasurable. Hopefully, he'd be able to focus now. 

He used some toilet paper to fully clean up before pulling his clothes back on and walking out. He washes his hands for an extra measure and straightened out his shirt in the mirror. 

He still felt like everyone would be able to tell what he just did, but there was no physical evidence. He made sure of that at least. 

He walked back out and Gavin gave him this smirk that Connor almost wanted to punch off him. He knew he wasn't being mean, more teasing than anything else. 

Connor squinted at him before walking by and flipping him off. Gavin snorted and rolled his eyes. Friendship could be so odd. 

He sat back down at his desk and avoided looking at Hank. He didn't want to explain why he ran off, or why he had taken so long in the bathroom when he couldn't even fully use it. Humans definitely had the advantage of excuses there. 

He kept his head down as he worked, and thankfully the images of Markus were reduced to only coming up when someone mentioned him. That was far better than he expected.

He was able to get through a few days before the thoughts became too much again. He was lucky that he wasn't at work the next time he decided to 'jerk off' as Gavin put it. 

He still hated himself for imagining Markus there with him. He felt like a bad friend for doing it, but it would probably be even worse if he asked for permission. He wanted to stop, yet his mind wouldn't let him. 

So he made sure to keep his distance from Markus. Of course he replied to him, but he always had a reason to turn him down to meet up. 

He just wouldn't be able to look at Markus without feeling guilty. Yet he also felt guilty for turning him down. Plus, he was really busy so it wasn't like it was too big of a stretch.  

For some reason, there had been quite a few murders recently. Not anything too crazy, but it did keep him and Hank on their toes. 

Josh had messaged him with updates on the situation. Apparently, Markus would need to propose soon and had agreed to do it on live tv. Well, that would certainly bring a huge reaction. From what Josh had said the whole thing with North was basically forgotten. It was amazing how easily distracted humans could be. 

He pushed through the days and pointedly ignored any and all feelings that went past platonic for Markus. For some reason, it just made those feelings worse. 

He wanted to be around Markus, wanted to hold his hand, and have him smile at him. He wanted Markus's eyes on him and only him even in a crowded room.

He wanted to paint with Markus again, sit on his lap, and laugh. Watch Markus's eyes close as his hand sifted across the canvas. He wanted to watch Markus move so gracefully almost like a dance.

He just wanted to be near him so badly that his heart ached. He hated the feeling but loved it at the same time. He wanted to get rid of it but he didn't know what would fill that spot if it was gone. 

When Josh sent that it was finally the day he was drowning in emotions he didn't understand. This would hopefully be over soon and these feelings would go away and he'd never have to worry about them again. 

Connor went through his wardrobe trying to pick the perfect outfit. Nothing felt right so he decided to go back to what he used to wear. Well, it wasn't exactly the same, but it was close enough. 

He felt comfortable and safe in it, plus he'd make that much more of an impression. The jacket was the same except it was missing the Cyberlife symbols. It still had RK800 on it along with his serial code but that was it. It was still very recognizable. 

Trying to push his hair back like he normally did, that one piece of hair fell into his face like always. He huffed and didn't even try to fix it. 

He didn't have enough time to go to Jericho first, but that was fine, he'd see Markus there. 

Hank patted him on the shoulder and said good luck. At least Hank was still supportive of this, even though he could tell something was up. 

Connor was more nervous about this than any other mission with Markus. It wasn't like he could mess this up, but it still put him on edge. He just had to say yes, simple as that. 

Yet he felt almost nauseous the whole way and even when they put on some makeup for the camera. 

He didn't even get to Markus until the two were standing together and waiting for Markus's cue to walk on. He was to go first and then Connor would come out after the hostess asked about him. 

The two stood side by side and watched the screen as the other celebrity guest answered questions. 

"Are you ready?" Markus whispered, glancing at Connor then back at the screen. 

"I am prepared, you?" They had to keep their voices down so the mics wouldn't pick them up, but that was fine. They could hear each other perfectly. 

Markus nodded and pulled out a small box from his pocket. "I am. Carl gave this to me, hopefully, you like it. Do you want to see it now or it be a surprise?" 

Connor's eyes widened at that. That ring must hold a lot of meaning, and yet Markus was willing to use it for this. "Markus… are you sure? Obviously, I won't keep it, but that seems a little too much." 

"It's fine if anyone is going to wear it, I'm glad it's you. So, do you want to see?" Markus said, holding it out. 

Connor slowly reached out and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful ring he had ever seen. It was a weathered whiskey barrel wood ring with elk antler and double gold inlays. It was simple and eloquent and it made his heart race. He could tell it was an older ring but very well taken care of. 

He ran a finger over it before looking at Markus. "It's beautiful." 

Markus smiled slightly and closed the box, putting it back in his pocket. "I'm glad you think so. Connor… I think we need-" Markus said before getting cut off with his cue to walk on stage. 

He gave him a quick kiss to his cheek before walking out, and Connor watched him on the screen. 

He had that small smile he used for the public. It was so different from his real one, but it was still nice to look at. 

He waved at the ground and they went wild. This was the first time he had agreed to go on a show like this. He was always busy with leading and going to meetings with the government. Josh, Simon, and North all made sure the questions would be appropriate and Markus would be able to answer them. 

The hostess, Allyssa Evatt, greeted Markus with a gentle hug. She had a lean face with a cleft chin, a pointed nose, small ears, defined cheekbones, and full lips. 

Her hair was mid-back length, fine, blonde, which is worn in a cascading style. Her bright gray-blue eyes are large and wide, giving her an innocent look. It wasn’t odd that Connor noted all that about her, as he was still protecting Markus, even now. Even from people that he knew weren’t a threat.

The two sat down and there's clearly room for Connor to come out. 

As they got through the normal questions about android rights, it became clear to everyone that Ms. Evatt was pro-android. 

She was also an amazing hostess and kept the conversation flowing and easy going. She interacted with the audience and Markus fluidly, making it seem natural. 

She moved the conversation along to other topics, just to get to know about Markus more. He wasn't super secretive about himself, but he much rather talk about his people and what they needed. 

Markus did just as well anyways, smiling slightly and chuckling whenever appropriate. He stayed calm and collected and answered each question as honestly as possible. At least until she brought up Connor. 

"So, we've all seen the pictures of you and...Connor right?" She asked, and the audience went deadly silent. Overdramatic, Connor thought with a smile.

Markus hesitated for a second before he ducked his head and honestly grinned. Connor can tell it made everyone melt, he felt the same. "Yes, Connor. We hadn't expected to be, well, caught so quickly." 

Evatt nodded and looked to the audience then back at Markus. "Well, I don't think he did either- because we caught him today! Connor, come on out!" She called and the crowd started clapping. 

Connor took a deep breath before walking out. The light was momentarily blinding so he gives a small wave towards the audience as he adjusted. 

Markus was by his side in an instant and lacing their hands together. The clapping got louder at that and Connor could hear a few awws. "Smile, sunflower," Markus whispered in his ear. 

Connor nodded and grinned slightly, but it probably looked incredibly awkward. He was never good at faking it when it came to smiling. 

The two walked over to the couch and Connor reached out to shake her hand. They all sat back down and slowly the crowd calmed enough so they could talk. 

"Connor Anderson, welcome. I'm so glad to have you!" Evatt said, smiling at him. He has to admit, she was beautiful and definitely charming. Not nearly at the level of Markus, but he was a bit biased. 

"Thank you for having us," Connor nodded, still not letting go of Markus. 

He wasn't particularly fond of being in front of so many people even though he knew what was going to happen. Markus squeezed his hand slightly and leaned into him. 

"So, I know we're all thinking about it. Are you two officially together?" She asked, leaning forward just slightly. 

Markus and Connor look at each other and Connor gave a slight nod for him to talk. "We are, for over three years now." At that, the crowd gave a joyous applause.

Evatt grinned and clapped along. "That's a long time! Congratulations! Do you two live together?" 

"I mostly go over to Jericho, but I still have a place to stay at the Lieutenant's house. We've been thinking about getting our own place, but it'll be hard to drag Markus away from Jericho." Connor said, looking to Markus for approval. He gave a slight nod and Connor sagged in relief. 

The crowd chuckled at that and Markus gave a sheepish smile. "Ah, that's true. We're lucky we even get to go on dates." 

"Speaking of, how come no one has seen you two out together until now?" Evatt questioned, but keeps it clear she isn't judging. 

"Oh, well we didn't want to be public and be bombarded with questions. We finally had enough and decided to no longer hide in the shadows. We knew we could take whatever the public threw at us." Markus said, letting go of Connor's hand to put a hand around his shoulder. 

Evatt gave an understanding nod. "We are all glad you felt comfortable enough. Thank you for coming to us to let us know!" 

Connor nodded and he desperately wanted his coin, he did have it in his pocket but he kept his hands in his lap. "It's nice to be here, together."

"Ok, so I do have a few questions for you guys if that's ok?" Evatt asked and grinned when they both nodded. "Alright, so the first one is… who's the better cook?" 

Connor snorted and tried to cover it up, but it's clear everyone saw and heard. Thankfully everyone just seems to aw at it. "Definitely Markus. I can cook but I'm better at baking." 

Which was true. He loved to bake while Markus could make any meal. "Well, I was made for that, so it's you that's special," Markus said before pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Evatt gives a little aww at the two before pulling herself back together. "That's so sweet! Alright, what's a pet peeve you have of each other?" 

Connor grinned smugly and easily answered. "He doesn't always fold his clothes and he generally just throws them towards the basket instead of getting up to put it in." 

Markus fake gasped and put a hand over where his heart would be. "Hey! I think I deserve to just throw them after the long days I have."

Connor raised an eyebrow at him. "My days are just as long as yours and yet I always put them in the basket and I fold my clothes. I even iron them!" 

"Ugh, I know. I mean, you didn't seem too upset last night after I…" Markus started wiggling his eyebrows, but Connor covered his mouth with his hand. 

"Nope! We are not talking about that." He said, playfully glaring at him. Markus smirked then licked his hand and Connor pulled it back. "Markus!" 

Markus shrugged slightly and chuckled when Connor wiped his hand on him. It's almost too easy to act like a couple. "That's not the only thing I've li-" but he was cut off again by Connor opening his mouth and making a loud beeping sound. 

The whole crowd burst into laughter and Connor shrunk down, his face slightly flushing blue. He hadn't even thought about how odd that would be for humans to see. Though at this point most had probably seen an android making odd noises. 

"Adorable," Markus mumbled in his ear loud enough for only him to hear. That just made Connor blush more and try to hide his face in Markus's shoulder. 

Markus gently ran a hand through his hair and he almost immediately let his body go limp and closed his eyes. 

"Oh goodness, you two are definitely the cutest couple I've ever talked to." Evatt gushed. Connor groaned slightly before pulling himself up and fixing his hair with a half-hearted flare thrown at Markus. 

"Thank you, he really is the love of my life," Markus said, staring right at Connor. It felt like time froze and Connor's eyes went wide. 

He didn't know why, but he had a feeling Markus at least kind of meant it. Probably only slightly but he did mean it and it made Connor's heart pound. 

He didn't even hear what Evatt said next, but thankfully Markus did so he easily answered it. 

"Alright, so I did hear that you have a big announcement to make," Evatt said, drawing Connor out of his shock. 

Markus nodded and grinned at Connor, throwing him a wink. "That I do. Connor, would you stand up with me?" Markus asked, holding out his hand. 

Connor would definitely be sweating if he could, instead he had to try to pull himself together as subtly as he could. He took the hand and stood up, letting Markus move him until they were perfect. 

Markus held both of his hands and locked eyes, not even glancing at the audience. "Connor, I've known you for so long. At first, I was worried about you. I was never scared, I just wanted to help you be free. Then you came to me and after that, I didn't want to lose you." 

"You went to the tower and I was terrified I'd never see you again. And yet you came marching to me with all those androids behind you. You helped set our people free." Markus grinned, giving their hands a soft squeeze. 

"Then I got to know you, and you were just as amazing as I expected, if not more. It didn't take long until we got together. The days spent with you are the best of my life, and I'd never give them up." 

Markus took a deep breath before being able to continue. "I love you. I know I don't say that much, but I do. It's real to me. So," Markus slowly knelt down, and the audience all gasped. 

"Will you marry me?" Markus asked, pulling out the ring. The whole place is so silent Connor can hear how fast Markus's thirium pump is going. 

Then Markus's words struck him. He said that it was real to him. No, no that couldn't be. This was probably just him getting confused. Emotions were hard, so he wouldn't blame him. 

And yet… And yet Connor wanted it to be real. He wanted the grins, the kisses, and touches to be real. He wanted to go on real dates and he wanted to be with Markus. 

Hank's words echoed in his head, 'Just don't go falling in love or anything'. 

He had played the part so perfectly. He stopped them before they went too far, and he made it believable. 

He had failed at Hank's one request and he would fail for this too. He stared down at Markus with tears in his eyes. No doubt the audience thought it was from happiness, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. 

It had been too long and everyone was on edge, even Markus. He knew the people currently watching were dying to his response. 

"I… I'm so sorry," He mumbled before turning and running. He ignored the crowd's reaction and just rushed for an exit. 

He burst out the doors and glanced around before remembering he had taken a taxi since he didn't want to mess up his hair. He took off running, easily dodging people, and not slowing down. 

He kept running until he's at the harbor where Jericho used to be. Now there was a monument for the androids that had died there. 

Connor was gasping for breath, and his mind was still going too fast. He didn't even think when he answered Hank's call. 

'Son, are you alright? Where are you?' Hank asked. Right, he was probably watching the show just like millions of others. 

"Hank, I'm so sorry. I- I couldn't. Hank, I could do the one thing you told me not to. I'm sorry." He sobbed, sliding down the wall to sit down and curl up. 

'Woah, kid. What thing? What did you do?' Hank asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible. 

Connor huffed and pulled at his hair. "I fell in love! I love him, ok? You told me not to, and yet I did." 

Hank sighed, and Connor could practically hear his eye roll. It really wasn’t helping right now. 'Connor, you were in love with him well before the whole fake dating thing. You just didn't know it.'

No! No, that couldn't be right. He would have known that he was in love. Right? "What? Hank, no. No, it only started recently." 

'You only started noticing recently because you had hope. Kid, whenever he's around you become happier. You obviously want to be around him, and you'd give your life for him.'

"I'd give my life for any of my friends, that doesn't prove anything!" He sobbed, squeezing his eyes closed. 

'True, but son, falling in love takes a while. I've seen the way you look at him and it hasn't changed since the fake dating. He looks at you the same way. I'm a damn good detective, I know what love looks like.' Connor hated how much that made sense. How true it felt, but it couldn't be. 

Why hadn't he known? Why hadn't Markus said anything? This was why they could play their parts perfectly. This was why he was more embarrassed about his own reactions than he should have been. 

He had known all this time, and yet he denied it. He denied it because he was scared of the feelings and scared of getting hurt or hurting someone else. He never saw himself as someone who'd someone would fall in love with, yet Markus still did. 

"I love him," Connor mumbled, mostly to himself. 

Hank gave a slight hum. 'Son, where are you? I can come pick you up or send Markus your way. Either way, I think you two should talk. Actually talk, not jump around it. You both deserve to know the truth.' 

The thought of seeing Markus made his heart race with both fear and anticipation. He wanted to be with him so badly and yet he still doubted that Markus could actually love him. Even with everything he had said and done, Connor still was unsure. 

"Can I just be alone here a little while longer?" He would see Markus, but for now, he needed a few minutes to collect his thoughts. 

'Of course. Do you want me to stay on call?' Hank asked, and Connor really owed him a long hug and maybe making his favorite meal. 

"Yes, please. I don't want to be completely alone right now." He answered meekly. There was a difference between isolated and alone, and he was glad Hank understood that. 

'You're never alone.' Hank said and Connor slowly nodded. 

He had friends and family. People he never thought would accept him as he is. He made friends in people he never thought possible, and a family with a man who had lost his own. 

They all made him so much happier than he ever thought he could be. He had accepted that Markus may not have trusted him. He had been ready to die for his people at the tower. He expected to. Yet he lived, and he really did help free his people. 

Markus kept reaching out to him after they had won, and Connor never knew why. Was it because they were both from the RK line? Had he also felt that unusual connection pulling them together? 

What had Markus seen in him that made him trust Connor completely? How had he known that he wouldn't still be willing to stab him in the back after he deviated? 

He had so many questions and never enough answers. How could Markus have fallen in love with him was the biggest one yet. He didn't understand and yet he knew it was true. 

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, but it was only an hour or so. The wind had made his hair even move out of place than his own hands had done. 

Hank stayed on the call with him as Connor requested, and it definitely helped. He had calmed down enough that the thought of seeing Markus didn't send him into a panic again. 

He pulled himself up, brushing off his clothes before calling for a cab. "Hank, I'll meet you back at your place ok? You can… you can let Markus know I'm coming." 

'Alright. See you soon, Connor.' 

"See you soon," Connor said before hanging up. Hank will be there with him if he needs, and he'll finally talk to Markus. 

Though, he did literally say no to him on live tv. Shit, that probably didn't look good at all. Not to mention he also left Markus to have to clean it all up. Now he really looked like a jerk. He'd have to apologize for that too. 

He let his mind wander to different memories of Markus as the cab took him home. He didn't just think of the fake dating, he thought about all of it. 

All the times he stood silently behind Markus, but he'd still look back at him and smile. The time when Markus was shot and Connor had panicked. 

That time when they all decided to get the upgrade to be able to eat food. Connor opening up about how it was hard to drink plain thirium if it was warm or room temperature since it reminded him too much of crime scenes. How Markus had made sure to keep cold thirium, and thirium infused foods so he could still get the thirium he needed. 

All the small things Markus did to make sure he was happy and comfortable. Markus always made sure he was safe even when he was the one that really needed protection. 

Connor could have asked for anything and Markus would have tried to get it for him. He hadn't even noticed that, but apparently, others had. How long had Markus known? 

His thoughts were interrupted when the taxi came to a stop. He took his time getting out and walking up to the door. He could hear two different footsteps, so Markus was already here. 

That was fine. He could do this. He took a deep breath before walking in. 

Markus and Hank both turned to look at him as he shuffled in. He couldn't look at Markus, and he could barely look at Hank. 

"Alright, you two sit down and talk. I'll be in the living room if you need me." Hank said, moving away. Honestly, there wasn't much distance between the living room and kitchen, but Connor was glad for that. 

Markus slowly sat down and Connor did the same, picking at the table. 

"Connor-"

"Markus-" they both start. Connor chuckled awkwardly and kept his eyes on the table. "Sorry, you go first." 

"No! No, please you. I think I've talked enough," Markus said, frowning at himself. 

Connor wanted so badly to reach over and take his hand, but he held back. "I'm sorry for running. It just… it became so real, you know? I realized a few things and I just couldn't lie anymore." 

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said what I did, but Connor, I did mean it. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was scared. I thought you'd reject me, I mean, it wasn't like you showed interest in dating anyone. I didn't want to put that kind of pressure on you if you couldn't feel the same."

"I- I was denying my feelings for a long time. I didn't see how anyone could love me, let alone you. I didn't want to hurt you." It hurt to say out loud, but it needed to be. Markus deserved to know the truth. 

"Connor, I trust you. I only let you become my guard because it's you. I still am unsure of that because I know it'll put you in even more danger. I can't lose you." Markus said, offering his hand. 

The skin on his hand pulled back and Connor didn't know what to do. If he connected then Markus will see and feel everything. He'll know everything, and that's terrifying. 

Yet Markus knew that Connor would also be able to see all of his memories and feelings. Markus was offering to be completely open with him. 

He slowly reached out and pressed his hand to Markus's, both of their palms glowing blue. Then they both accepted the interface and were flooded with so much information it's hard to even breathe. 

Connor saw Carl, he could feel how content Markus was with him. How much love he had for the man even before deviation. He saw Leo, and how the police came in and felt how scared Markus was. 

Then it was like a nightmare. He felt Markus crawling, trying to survive. All of the guilt he felt as he took the parts he needed. He could feel the rain on his face and then he saw Jericho. 

He got to witness everything Markus went through, and even how he felt when seeing Connor. It was true, he wasn't scared, at least not for his own life. 

The memories went by so fast that he could hardly process them. Yet he still felt like he could understand Markus. 

He didn't know how long he sat there connected to Markus. He knew Markus was also seeing everything and he wondered how he'd react. 

He'd get to see Amanda and what he had done and almost done to his people. Would Markus still love and accept him? 

Shit, he'd also probably see those few times he had gotten off to the idea of Markus. That was beyond embarrassing. 

Though he hadn't seen any type of memory like that from Markus, so maybe it was just what Connor let him see.

Then the interface stopped, but neither pulled their hands back or reactivated their skin. They sat there staring at each other with wide eyes. 

"Connor, it's not your fault," Markus said, breaking the silence. "I promise, I would never hold that against you." 

"I don't know how you can't," he mumbled. 

"Am I a terrible person for taking those parts?" Markus asked, rubbing his thumb in circles. 

Connor quickly shook his head. "No! You were just trying to survive."

Markus raised an eyebrow at him. "So were you. Connor, you could have been killed if you did something Cyberlife didn't like. You did the bare minimum you had to, you let so many of our people go. You are a hero." 

Connor was left momentarily speechless. How could any man be this kind and understanding? He didn't pity Connor, he empathized with him. 

"I love you," he whispered, tears streaming down his face again. Markus was up in an instant and pulling him into a hug. 

He was so warm, and Connor felt so safe. He let himself be held and feel accepted and forgiven. "I'm so sorry, I love you."

Markus pulled back and cupped his face, gently brushing away the tears. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you too." 

Then Markus was pulling him into the gentlest kiss ever, and Connor melted into it. It was just as wonderful as all the other kisses they shared, but Connor let himself feel. He let his emotions rush through him without worrying about what they could mean. 

They slowly pulled back and Connor couldn't help but smile. "Does this mean you'll be my real boyfriend?" He said, resting their foreheads against each other. 

"Of course. Though, this is going to be hard to explain." Markus said, chuckling. 

Oh shit. "Fuck. What are we going to tell them?" 

Markus shrugged and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Together."

[rewrite-canon]

Detroit: Become High School

Chapter 1: "Start of Sophomore" (Connor's POV)

On normal days, Connor would be fine waking up. But today was the first day of his sophomore year at Cyder Line Academy, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it at all. He knew there would be more stacks if homework, horrible teachers (like Mr Perkins, who hated his guts), the stressful social school hierarchy and Gavin Reeds, a man who found solace in picking on him. But if Connor knew anything, it would be to get up quickly before his dad and brother start yelling at him.

Read more chapters: here

~~~

“Connor! The fuck are you doing? Get up!”

Connor stirred drowsily, trying to mentally block out his dad’s insistent yelling.

“Connor, I swear to god, I will bust down your door in a few moments if you don't wake up!” He heard his father grumble outside.

Preferring to not have an enraged, tired father invade his room, he quickly responded with an “I'm up! I'm up!”

He blinked and stirred, his eyes slowly adjusting to the morning light slipping through the blinds, and the warm air of the stuffy, unventilated bedroom. As Connor groaned and rolled himself out of bed, he glanced resentfully at his calendar and sighed. September 19th, 2019. The day he will be starting his sophomore year. And he already knew it was going to be difficult, if freshman year told him anything. There were to be more suffocating homework and exams, the pressure of colleges, dealing with horrid teachers and, of course, Gavin Reeds, who was a problem all on his own.

He then walked over to the large tank of brightly coloured fish, and quickly fed them. He smiled, because the fishes did looked quite content with their breakfast, which made Connor feel nice himself. Connor made a beeline to his birch closet, and tried not to feel the stress of picking out the most appropriate attire for the first day. But alas, it was quite inevitable.

Upon picking and choosing his shirt, his small moments of privacy was soon cut short as his older brother stepped in without bothering to knock.

“Normally, I wouldn't care if you were late, but dad would crack the shits if I don't personally drive your ass to school,” he stated, coldly. “And you're taking forever.”

But his chilling expression soon changed into a patronising sneer as he saw his brother’s distress.

“Having trouble choosing what to wear?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. “What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Go away so I can change, Ronan.”

“Whoa, someone's grumpy today. Now I've got two grumpy family members to deal with.”

Connor took one look at what Ronan was wearing and pouted. Ronan always got it right. He was wearing a white shirt with the Detroit Tigers logo on it. On top of it, he was wearing a light denim jacket, that was cuffed at the sleeves, dark jeans and white Vans. His sunglasses were also hanging loosely off his neckline. All in all, it wasn't much, and he looked quite normal, but Connor thought it was fashion genius. It wasn't too flashy, but it wasn't laid back. It made Ronan genuinely look nice, and more older and mature, though he was anything but.

“How do you do that?” Connor blurted.

“What?”

“You know, make yourself look so cool without even trying?”

Ronan just laughed fondly albeit condescendingly in response, his blue eyes flashing with amusement.

“I'm serious! You're the one starting your senior year, you should be close to tears! It's your last first day of high school ever!”

Ronan rolled his eyes and ruffled Connor’s hair.

“Well, if you want to be like me, you've got to become more faster, stronger, resilient and be equip with all of my brilliant charms,” he said, turning to walk out of Connor’s room, and grinning like his older brotherly ‘advice’ was very helpful.

“I never said I wanted to be like you, I just wanted to know what to wear!” Connor called, but Ronan was already out of the door.

He sighed and faced his closet forlornly. With a few more minutes of stressing and inner debates, Connor decided to go with grey jeans, a Detroit hoodie and his wristwatch that his dad got him for his birthday last year. And whilst looking at his wristwatch, he realised that he really needed to hurry up if he wanted to avoid both his dad and Ronan yelling more at him.

So he quickly rushed over to the bathroom, speed-brushed his teeth, and thanked god he packed his school bag the night before. Upon arriving to the kitchen, Ronan was ready to leave and was now yelling at him to hurry, and Hank looked conflicted as to which one of his sons he should murder first. Connor then quickly grabbed a stale muesli bar from the pantry and gave Sumo a nice pat, before embracing his dad.

“You take care, Connor,” Hank said gruffly, before letting go. “Now you boys go to school and Ronan-” he pointed a finger at Ronan who smiled innocently on instinct, “no causing trouble on your first day. And Connor-” his finger shifted to his youngest son, “try to not look so goofy and clueless. It's weird.”

Ronan was unsuccessfully trying to suppress his snickers as Connor nodded obediently. Hank gestured towards the front door.

“Now go. I still need to make my coffee and take a shower, because god knows I smell like Satan’s musty anus,” he sniffed.

By the time they made it to Cyder Line Academy, Ronan had already informed Connor about how ridiculous he looked.

“You do realise the temperature today is going to be about 84°, right?” He asked, staring at his hoodie. “And your pants and shoes really don't go together.”

Connor huffed and wished for the thousandth time that Ronan would one day miraculously cease to speak, and that his school will enable uniforms.

They arrived about a good twenty minutes before the start of the first bell thanks to Ronan’s insane driving. Connor watched blankly as friends were tearfully reuniting with others and burst into conversations about what their summer had been like. Connor saw new couples that had no doubt sparked the wheel of gossip in the school, and he spotted old ones, who were wrapped up in each other’s arms. He spotted some new faces of the school, but mostly old ones, though the new freshman sure did look nervous. And rightfully so, Connor thought, as his eyes coincidentally landed on Gavin Reeds.

Once Gavin met his eyes too, a large scowl blessed his antagonising face. Connor gulped as Gavin looked as though he may come over, but as Gavin pivoted his body, he stopped short, his eyes widening at something directly behind Connor and turned back around reluctantly, though he was still radiating pure hatred. Connor turned to see Ronan death-glaring at Gavin coolly.

“I thought you already left to hang out with your friends or something,” Connor said dumbly, shivering at the thought of being on the receiving side of brother’s glare.

“Let me know if he comes at you again,” Ronan ignored, his tone one that could send a stampede of rhinos running in the opposite direction. “He's not allowed to mess with you anymore.”

Connor nodded slowly as Ronan walked off, possibly to go hang out with his many, multiple, cooler friends.

Connor never planned on telling Ronan or his dad about the number of verbal offences Gavin had thrown at Connor over the past two years. Sure, ever since seventh year Gavin had been horrible to him. In eighth grade, when Ronan witnessed one of the many assaults that was delivered by Gavin and his gang, he got so mad, and threw some punches himself. Connor shuddered when he thought of the scene, and how mad Ronan was. After, he had dragged Connor back home and explained in detail to Hank what had happened. It took hours to convince his two family members not to go to the principal.

Ronan had roughed them up pretty badly, and Connor figured Ronan was the only guy Gavin legitimately feared. Connor knew he should use that to his advantage, but if he was being honest with himself, he would rather Ronan (and his dad) be kept in the dark about all of this.

It wasn't the number of threats Gavin spewed at him every time they did go toe-to-toe, it was the plain fact that he was fed up of living under his brother's shadow. He knew Ronan was generally better than him, and that annoyed him quite a bit. He had been living under Ronan’s protection for too long, and if Gavin should fear anyone. It should be Connor. And Connor will eventually stand up for himself.

But that day was not today.

Once Ronan left, Gavin immediately started to make his way towards Connor, his other insolent friends not too far behind him.

“Hey Connor,” Gavin sneered, slinging an arm around him tightly, “how was your holidays?”

“They were ok,” Connor answered evenly.

“Really? I'm glad they were. But unfortunately, your bitchy-ass is back in school now, and we have a lot of things to catch up on.”

With that, he shoved Connor into the nearest wall, which turned out to be the greenhouse, and the hot plastic wall burned against him. Connor shifted uncomfortably.

“Still not trying to stand up for yourself? Well I wouldn't expect much from such a retarded pussy,” Gavin spat, as his friends laughed.

All Connor could do was glare back at him, though it wasn't as nearly threatening as Ronan’s ice blue eyes can produce.

“You look so stupid,” one of Gavin's friends laughed. “What kind of dog’s vagina were you birthed from?”

Connor just wanted to leave. Or rather, he would rather they leave. And he knew the quickest way they would was if he remained quiet. They wouldn't have a physical go at him before school started.

“You just never get upset with this, do you, Connor?” Gavin sneered, tightening his hold on him. “You never cry or scream or fight back or do anything. What are you? Some sort of fucking robot?!”

With that, Gavin punched him right in the face. Welp, I was wrong about things not getting physical, Connor thought.

It wasn't a hard punch. It wasn't enough to cause a bruise or start bleeding, but the punch to the chest might've bruised.

“Are you going to go crying to your asshole brother after this?”

“You're so pathetic.”

“You just think your Mr-fuckin-Perfect, don't ya?”

Gavin was smiling now. He was enjoying it. He must've missed picking on Connor. He raised his fist to strike a blow again, but is eyes caught something else exiting the greenhouse.

“Ralph will be planting all sorts of flowers! Yes! Yes! There will be sunflowers. Ralph will plant lovely sunflowers!”

The boys turned their heads to spot the blonde boy skipping excitedly into the greenhouse, not noticing Connor or Gavin and his gang. Gavin’s hands immediately slackened.

“Oh lookie here, it’s the psycho freak,” Gavin cackled, gesturing at Ralph. “What do ya say, guys? Maybe we should go rough him up a bit. Can't have him forgetting how much of a creep he is.”

“He'll probably grow up being a homeless pedo,” said another one of the boys. “You know, living on the streets and shit, and sucking dick for money.

“He'll definitely be a drug addict. Or a rapist. Maybe both. Maybe he already is.”

“He's so fucking weird. I don't know, he even scares the shit out of me. I saw him approaching my little sister with a flower once. Had to teach him a solid lesson,” said another guy, who cracked his meaty knuckles.

Gavin let go of Connor and started making his way over to his next target, his friends in tow.

“I'll catch you later, fag,” Gavin insulted, before spitting in Connor’s face for good measure.

What a lovely start to the day, Connor thought sarcastically as he heard Ralph cries from inside the greenhouse.

Connor made his way to his locker, keyed in his code and started to get ready for his first two periods. Double geometry. That didn't seem so bad. He had a few acquaintances within that class, and he didn't mind the class itself. But, first he had to get through a boring, all-school assembly, that was sure to be a pain.

And it was.

Upon making it to the assembly with the rest of his Homeroom class, the principal stepped up on the small podium, and smiled at the academy proudly. She welcomed back old students, and greeted new ones, then went on with some inspirational speech for 2019, and all of the blatant hopes she had for the school. Connor listened nevertheless, but he couldn't help but notice there was a new student in his class.

The boy looked nervous, his eyes occasionally scanning the sea of students, but also trying to look normal and blend in. Unfortunately for him, new students who weren't freshman stood out like a sore thumb, and others were casting some curious glances at the tanned boy.

Once assembly had ended, Connor made his way down to the room where he was assigned double geometry. He watched as few students trickled in, some who even said a small ‘hello’ to him. They all went to sit in their seats, flunked with their friends.

“Hi, Connor,” Daniel greeted, sitting next to him tentatively.

“Hello, Daniel. How was your summers?” Connor asked politely.

“Pretty good. My family and I went to Chile and Peru. Emma really enjoyed it. How about you?”

“I just stayed around in Detroit, but that's okay. Gave me a chance to relax before school started up again.”

Daniel nodded in understanding, and a content silence settled over them.

Daniel and Connor weren't exactly friends, but they were close acquaintances with each other. Both of them being quite unpopular, and leaning more towards the introverted side, they could find some sort of solace in that. Daniel was seen as somewhat of a punching bag to the other boys at school too, so Connor assumed he didn't have any friends either.

Then the teacher walked in with the new kid.

“So sorry! I'm a bit late,” Mr Collins exclaimed as he shuffled to his desk and dumped his heavy satchel. “But welcome back everybody! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. And on the topic of ‘welcoming’, can everyone give a warm welcome to our newest student at Cyder Line Academy, Markus.”

There was a scattered applause, and the new guy, Markus, smiled uncomfortably. Though he looked a little hesitant, Connor picked up that he held himself quite confidently. He had a brown buzz cut, coffee-coloured complexion, but the most striking thing about him was his eyes. One leafy green, the other sky blue.

“Go and introduce yourself, Markus,” Mr Collins encouraged, running a hand through his greying hair as he searched for something in his satchel.

“Ok, um,” he started, “hi. I'm Markus Manfred. I moved here from Delaware to Michigan not too long ago when my dad got a new job opportunity to continue his career in art. Um, I was homeschooled for most of my life, so attending an actual school is really different. But I'll get used to it.”

The teacher nodded, seemingly satisfied with Markus’ introduction.

“Well, I'm sure we are all very honoured to be your first time at school,” Mr Collins said, unaware of the suppressed snickers throughout the class. “You may take a seat next to North.”

Upon hearing her name, North looked up in surprise. She maybe been zoning out before, and though she was one of the most beautiful albeit intimidating girls in the school, Markus obliviously dumped his things next to her, and sat down with ease.

With that, double geometry began. And so did the actual school year.

[youarenotevenhuman]

° Is it lust?

Requested by @wordsmith-by-night

Gavin Reed x Reader

Summary: You ended up at a police party and expected not to run into Gavin Reed?

Key:

You, your name (y/n)

Feminine pronouns

Smut?

Notes: you have an identical twin who was Captain Allen’s spouse.

———

The snow had set in weeks ago at this point but you still chose to stand outside in your little black dress. The party long, hot and immensely bothersome. The lights, headache inducing. The music, boring. Why had Allen invited you? Right, how could you forget, to show off a pretty lady and gander interest from some other woman. You let out a slow sigh of exhaustion mixed with a touch of frustration, it wasn’t the first time and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Silence surrounded you as you stood outside the building that the police department had rented. You felt hot but that was probably the liquor finally working it’s magic. Maybe you’d walk home since you knew Allen wouldn’t be taking you home. After all, you were just for show.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the door open behind you but you did feel the rough jacket land on your shoulders.

“Who the fu-“ you begin as you turn around to see who had thrown the jacket on you. “Oh, it’s you.” you turn just as quickly to stare angrily at the empty parking lot. Everyone had taken a taxi.

“You disappeared,” it was Gavin, you had caught a glimpse of that damn smug look on his face. “Figured you’d want to freeze your ass off.” He bumped you as he came to stand beside you.

Arms crossed, you glanced down at him. Gavin was far from anything special. He stood a good two inches shorter than you but then again, so did Allen. What the fuck she saw in Allen in the first was beyond you. Gavin wasn’t any better. He was known to every officer in the precinct as the loudest and rudest detective around.

“So what the fuck are you doing out here anyways?” there was his charm, his stupid honesty. “Why do you always tag along with Allen if you ditch him every time?”

“Cause,” you thought a moment. Why the fuck did you always agree to accompany Allen to every social event the precinct held? “Cause I’m just a remind and something to show off?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Gavin asked as he dug around in his pants pockets. “How does an elementary teacher,” he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, where the fuck did he manage to get those? “get involved with a cop anyways?” With a tap of the box, he managed to pull out one and quickly shoved in his mouth and lit it.

“When your brother-in-law is a cop,” you paused as you watched him lit it up. “You tend to be very involved.”

Gavin tossed you a look of confuse as he took a drag “I thought he wasn’t married?”

“Not officially.” You motion for him to share the cigarette.

“Where is she?” He passed the cigarette. You hadn’t tried smoking since you were a teenage, almost two decades ago. You let a smile escape as you exhale the smoke before coughing.

“Depends on who you ask?” you pass the smoke back. “She’s gone and I’m stuck here watching over the mess, trying to put it back together.”

“So do you guys fuck than?”

“What the fuck? No.”

Never had you ever tired to sleep with Allen. He wasn’t your type even if you were her twin. Identical in almost every way expect in taste. You both grew up with Allen, hell you were surprised when they got together. Since she died, you took care of Allen. You cleaned his place when he worked long hours, you brought him breakfast, lunch or dinner, whenever his hours complicated his life. You worried about him but you were the furtherest thing in love with him.

The silence, snow and smell of cigarettes brought you back from your thoughts. Gavin’s cigarette long since used up. He was dressed casually like how he normally worked. Black shirt and dark blue jeans. Gavin never dressed fancy but he always smelled nice for some reason.

Changing subjects “So who is Chloe based off of?” You ask as Gavin leans in closer. The cold finally bitting into him.

“So you know he’s my brother, right?” Gavin asked as he put an arm around your waist.

“It’s pretty public,” you wiggle out of his grip. “The genius of the century and his trash copper brother.”

“Hey,” there was that smug look again. “At least I can tell the difference in reality.”

It was very public knowledge about Elijah Kamski cutting ties with half his family once he started making millions. Their father committing suicide and the shock of Kamski having a half brother who happened to be a cop. The tensions at the funeral were said to be a time bomb.

“She’s based off of Chloe.” Gavin stated as though you’d understand.

“But who is Chloe?” You press unsure of the implications. “An ex-girlfriend, tragic lover?”

“Our kid sister.” He gives you a fake smile, the kind that hides all the hurt and anger. “Our kid sister,” quickly all the falseness falls away and is replaced but that hidden anger. “our fuckin kid sister who died.”

“I’m sorry,” you didn’t think it’s be so serious. “I didn’t mean to-“

“No one thinks about it” Gavin starts kicking at the piles of snow that got shoveled. “but all androids are base off of someone, somewhere.” The angry is raw, even if he’s a few feet away, you could swear you felt the heat dripping off of him. You could definitely see the steam. “That’s the detail everyone over looks, Do you know what he does with that thing?” You stay silent. “Fuck!”

You let him calm down before attempting to talk to him. “I’m gonna go find Allen.”

“Yeah, you do that.” He lets out a huff as he starts out into the parking lot. Silently you disappear back into the building.

You find Allen more intoxicated than you wanted with a woman in a red dress hanging off his arm. Beside them stands that android, Connor was it’s name? You don’t care, you tap Allen on the shoulder.

“I think it’s time we go.” You say as Allen turns to look at you.

“T/N, you look lovely tonight.” He’s beyond drunk, you knew you shouldn’t have left him.

“It’s Y/N, T/N is dead.” You say as you get him to hold onto you. “We are going home now.”

“Don’t tell me these things.” He slurs as he leans on you. “I don’t want to be reminded.”

Out of the corner of you eye, you see a flash of blue accompanied by the gentlest voice.

“Connor and I can help Allen home” you turn to see who is talking. “I’m Mika, I don’t think we’ve meet before.” You feel Allen’s weight shift as he leans against that android, Connor.

Before you can reply, the androids says “Hello Captain Allen, it’s me. Connor.” it states as Allen glances up at it. “Mika and I will take you home.”

“I’m Y/N and we don’t need the help” you try to get Allen to lean against you again but the android has a strong hold on him.

“Clearly you do,” the android says as it starts to walk Allen to the doorway. “Mika suggested I call a cab and help you two out.”

You glance back at the lady in red. This was the Mika Allen would hammer on about. You always thought he had a thing for taller women but she was at least six or more inches shorter than you. Where the fuck did they ever meet? She was way too pretensions.

Once outside, the four of you found Gavin still outside with another cigarette in his hand.

“Where the fuck is this plastic dick taken him?” He gestured at Connor and Allen. “Fuck party-“ he stops as he notices you. “What the fuck is going on?”

“We’re going home,” you shrug as you follow the android holding your brother in law hostage. “Or at least to Allen’s.”

“Well fuck me in.” Gavin stomps out his cigarette and follows.

The taxi was already waiting by the road when you finally made it outside the parking lot. Automated cars rarely could navigate closed parking lots. All of them piled in, Gavin sitting beside you on one side while Allen sat between the android and his handler, Mika.

The car ride reeked of alcohol and awkwardness. Allen made some lame jokes while Mika politely laughed. Gavin made several comments about how dumb the android Connor was who in turned pointed out how Gavin had somehow managed to dump a shit ton of donuts earlier that day. If you hadn’t been there, Gavin probably would have strangled the android.

Allen’s place was in an old brick apartment. Home, a second home at least. Even back when she was here, the three of you were family. You stayed here more often than you’d care to admit. So often in fact, Allen and her decided to arrange the place like a bachelor. The kitchen up against one wall, the living split into a living space and a the other half a bedroom. The actually bedroom they had made into a guest room but reality it was your’s. You were the only guest more often than not.

Connor hauled Allen up the stairs and into the apartment. The android’s stamina was god sent but you still didn’t like him. You asked Connor to help Allen to bed before even considering what to do with everyone else. Mika followed Connor and Allen to the bed. You were going to help him undress but Mika was on top of that. Guess you got to deal with Gavin instead.

“So where do I sleep?” Gavin gestured towards the couch, probably not realizing how big the apartment really was.

“I don’t remember inviting you to stay.” You give him a smirk. Did you really plan on letting him stay?

“Well I can get a taxi and we can both go back to our places since I know we live near each other.” He was a cop, of course he knew where you lived.

“You can take the guest room down the hall,” you gesture past the living. “I’ll check on Allen.”

You heard him grumble as he made his way down the hall. Satisfied you made your way to Allen who was now sitting in his underwear on his bed. Mika had brought him water and sat beside him holding it. She whispered sweet things to him as he slowly climbed all the way into bed. You backed away as she set the glass on the nightstand. You felt a strange ping of jealousy as you turned around. Why? You weren’t in love with Allen but the sight of someone else taking care of him filled you with an unexplainable... anger?

You made your way to the guest room and quickly closed the door behind you as you strip down in anger.

“Well, I didn’t think you were actually ever interested in me.” Gavin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and quickly you picked up your discarded dress to cover yourself.

“Fuck, I forgot you were in here.” You glare at him as he slowly let his shirt drop to the floor.

Gavin had started working for the Detroit police department about three years ago, he hadn’t meet her when he started but she was already dead by then. He did however meet you one day when you started to bring Allen his various meals to make sure he was eating. Ever since then it was always him trying to impress you at every event Allen attended. The ‘if I win, we go on a date’ type deal. Thankfully, Gavin sucked. Always an excuse to blow him off or straight up telling him you weren’t interested but here you were, almost naked standing in front of him in a place you considered home.

“We’re gonna share the bed and you’re gonna stay on your side and not touch me.” You declared as you threw your dress on the ground and climbed into bed.

“Fuckin fine with me.” He grinned as he undid his belt and let his pants drop.

What the fuck did you expect? Him to be a gentleman and volunteer to sleep on the floor probably. You couldn’t really help admire the body his clothes hid. For a jackass who barely did his job, he somehow managed to keep himself in shape. His tight boxers managed to also show what his clothes hid and maybe you should just sleep on the floor instead. He grumbled about having to share a bed with a pretty lady as he climbed in, that grumbling cause you to furiously lay down a flip so you were facing away from him.

“As fucked up tonight had been,” he said once both of you had settled. “It’s been nice.”

You thought about tonight. Allen having fun on his own was nice to witness. Gavin being open with you was strange, different but pleasant. That android helping was ok and Mika taking care of Allen, that was envisions but admirable. Tonight had been nice. Maybe sharing this bed wasn’t such a horrible fate after all.

You roll over to see Gavin playing on his phone. He glanced at you before resuming.

“What’s up?” He asks after a minute of you staring.

“What’s the deal with Kamski anyways?” You ask as you notice the pillow laying between Gavin and you. “Also what the fuck is with the pillow?”

“You said,” he shrugs as he puts his phone down and rolls to face you. “You don’t want me touching you. This was the best way to restrain myself.”

The room was ill lit but the light that shone through gave Gavin softer features. You tired not to admit it but he was handsome. You pull the pillow towards yourself to cuddle. As much as you hated to admit it, you found intimacy strange with actual people. Androids knew much more and for the most part, easy to detach from. That’s the only thing you found them good for.

“Kamski, is my half brother.” Gavin started his hand inching closer to your’s. “We’re born about four months apart. Different moms but the same jackass dad. Chloe was born much later, when we were 3.” He paused a moment before continuing. “We grew up together kinda. Both our moms let us hangout with Chloe but not each other not that any of them tried to stop us as we got older. Chloe was close with both of us when we were growing up, the middle man if you say.” He let out a sign. You could see all the emotions you didn’t even realize Gavin was capable of. “I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid or crazy but I think Elijah loves her and not in the brotherly way. But one day, Chloe was gone to a camp and suddenly my mom gets a call from her mom. Next thing I’m at the hospital and Chloe had leukemia, acute form or some shit. Elijah was there everyday until the end.” You heard his voice shake but he pushed past it. “I haven’t heard or talk to him after that until the big fuckin news about androids blew up over the world.” Anger and bitterness laced his voice. “You can only imagine how pissed I was when I saw that thing beside him.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you touch his hand.

He gave you the most gorgeous smile before saying “Thanks.”

You throw the pillow behind you and hear a satisfying thud as you pull yourself closer to Gavin.

“I thought we weren’t touching.” He asked as you nestled yourself in his arms.

“I can change my mind.” You gaze up at him. With a your free hand, you lightly trace his lips. “I can put the pillow back if you like.”

His answer was pulling you up to kiss. It was hot and wet, his hands pulling you up onto him. With barely any struggles, you find yourself naked and Gavin’s boxers gone. Why the fuck were you so wet for him? Was it because his cock was at the right hardness you loved or the fact you were unnecessary turned on by his display of emotions. At that moment you didn’t care.

With hardly any assistance, he slid right in. Both of you find you rhythm quickly, one hand on your ass and another on your breast. Soon enough his lips press against your chest, a nipple in his mouth as you try your best to repress some moans. You push him back down as you take him for a ride. The kisses are sloppy, the lip bites are hard enough to bruise. He takes control with you on top and thrusts his hips into your’s. His increasing swearing told you how close he was and just before he can satisfy himself, you hop off of him just as he climaxes. You do your best to hold off the sinister laugh you want so much to let burst out.

“Fuck me.” He gives you the most annoyed look you’ve ever seen. “What the fuck?” He gingerly gets out of bed to clean himself.

As much fun as it was to ruin his satisfactory night, you cuddle with him afterwards. Gavin’s an asshole but you can’t help but see him differently now. Maybe he was worth seeing again. A kiss, a giggle and a sigh said it all.

[enkisstories]

In the Chinese room

- A DBH fanfic - AU: After a failed revolution (the same AU as always on this blog, just no pictures this time) Time: November 29, 2038 Characters: Hank, Gavin, Daniel

It was a slow Monday morning at the DPD. Outside the snow was falling gently, dulling all sound while it covered up the streets as if to say “come in again, darling, here’s your bedsheet”. And inside everyone seemed to still be in a blissful post-holiday stupor. Considering how many of the officers hadn’t even lived to see this year’s Thanksgiving, it had been all the more cause for celebration and gratitude for their surviving co-workers and their families. Even Gavin Reed was sitting unusually content in the cafeteria, tablet in front of him, absorbed in a digital textbook. The man was still walking wobbly after his encounter with Connor during the android uprising (or the more recent brawl with Hank Anderson). He was mostly deskbound these days, but had decided to put the enforced downtime to good use and start learning for an eventual sergeant exam. Memorizing the facts was laughably easy, an exercise in patience, really. But there would be an oral exam, too and even if you passed that you were not guaranteed a promotion. How much weight would co-workers’ statements about him carry, the detective wondered? Especially that of one in particular…

… the one who just now HAD to shake the damn snow off his clothes all over the table Reed was sitting at?

“Still here?” Gavin barked at Lieutenant Anderson.

“What kind of question is that? I only just arrived. I’m still wearing my damn jacket!”

Gavin turned a page by sliding across the tablet’s screen.

“Still alive?” he translated his initial question into plain English.

Hank bent down and put his hands on the table, both to steady himself and for emphasis when he growled: “Do you think I WANT to live?!”

After his brief outburst the man sacked down onto a chair.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway” he said. “I can’t leave now. I owe it to Connor.”

“Connor!” Gavin exclaimed and there went the peaceful morning. “What the hell’s got Connor to do with you wanting to live? Just because it only ever followed its mission until it got scrapped? Tell you what, you did yours well in the past, too, so you can totally follow that example!”

Hank stared at the younger man. Gavin Reed suddenly sat straighter and pushed his chair just a tiny bit farther away from the table and the lieutenant. It was a subconscious thing. That look on Anderson’s face… As if he was really there, really focusing, really being alive. There were still all the anger and the mental exhaustion that had controlled the lieutenant before the android revolution. But lately the man seemed to channel it into something instead of succumbing to apathy. Gavin thought of a real huge disciplinary folder that he didn’t fancy becoming another page of. He was in there a few times already (as in turn Anderson turned up in his), so he knew.

“Okay, joke aside”, Gavin said. “The thing about Connor is that it isn’t really dead. On account of it never having been alive in the first place. I could never stand the damn thing in “life”, so I shouldn’t let it get to you like that in “death”.

When the lieutenant didn’t out outright shoot him down for saying that, Gavin tapped to create a bookmark in the file he was reading and nodded. “Ever heard of the Chinese Room?” he asked.

“You’re mixing that up. It was amber and got stolen by the Nazis one hundred years ago.”

“Nah, that’s something different. The one I mean is a thought experiment. It can prove how we are wrong when we think androids are thinking when in truth it’s only simulated.”

“Oh, can it?” Hank sneered. “Amuse me, you great philosopher!”

Not letting himself get baited this time, Gavin started to recount how the experiment went:

“You put a dude into a chamber… nothing in, nothing out. Only a clap in the door to shove documents through.”

“That’s kinda cruel, though...”

“Now you put in a storybook, any story, but the catch is that it’s written in Chinese. The captive does not understand Chinese, yet the next thing you do is putting in questions about the stories that he is to answer, everything in Chinese again. The prisoner has a book with instructions. They enable him to recognize groups of symbols and reply with another set of symbols. To the blokes outside it looks as if he answered the questions correctly and they deduce that the prisoner must speak Chinese. When in truth he doesn’t. Yeah, that’s the gist of it. It’s how androids work. It’s only input-output, nothing going on inside.”

Hank continued to stare at the detective. Eventually he said: “Sounds familiar.”

Gavin nodded, confident that he had won the argument. But Hank only smiled and added:            

“But you’re living like that for thirty-six years now, so I guess you’re fine. Also, you’re sort of handsome, so maybe if you married a girl who’s reasonably intelligent on her own it won’t matter that there’s nothing going on inside that skull of yours.”

The comment was followed by a sound like the coffee machine malfunctioning. Or maybe someone was trying to boil a life vulture in the microwave oven. Turning their heads around the men realized that the noise came from the new addon to the cafeteria’s coffee machine. The addon’s function was to move the finished coffee around, it was called “Sardines” and was a PL600 android. And it had laughed just now. With a bit of practice android laughter sounded less industrial and only like a chain smoker’s, but this particular one had little incentive to laugh regularly.

“Did you listen in on our conversation?” Gavin yelled at the machine.

“Just scanned it for key words like “coffee”, “right now” and “dipshit”, Sir”, the android replied.

“If we have to call for coffee, it’s too late already, tincan!” Gavin protested. “You got to anticipate our needs and do your job without needing any prompting from us! That’s what “autonomous” means. It’s right there in your manual!”

The android snorted in a dismissive way. On the other hand the scolding could be taken as a request, so he poured two cups of the coffee he had made a little earlier, put them on the table and remained close by afterwards. Outwardly it looked as if the machine was waiting for further instructions, but in truth it was desperate for company. Any company, even that of smelly primates and even these two particular ones, the fed-up with everything veteran detective and the other one whom everyone else was fed up with.

“Thank you, Sardine”, Hank addressed the PL600.

The android replied with a weak, involuntary smile. Try as he might, it was hard  not to like Lt. Anderson. He probably would not have been Sardines’ first choice to spend his freetime with, had the android ever gotten granted that, but was certainly one of the better humans around. Perhaps “respect” was a better word than “like” to describe how Sardines felt towards the lieutenant. Even though there was one detail Anderson never seemed to get right:

“It’s “Sardines”, Sir”, the android corrected. “Plural.”

“But you are only a single one!”

“There’s more than one sardine in a tin”, Gavin said. “And that’s what it is: a bloody tin can.”

Hank concluded that there was something going on in Reed’s head, after all, even though it wasn’t what one might expect from normal people. The name explained, the lieutenant picked up their previous conversation topic:

“The real question is not whether the prisoner speaks the language, but if he feels something. Like, for instance, annoyance or utter puzzlement about how he ended up in the situation.” Hank turned his head around sharply towards the PL600. “Right, Sardines?”

“Maybe?” the android replied non-committedly.

“I have paper and a pen in my cell, yes?” Hank asked Gavin. “So now I write “Fuck yourself” and shove it through under the door! What do you say now, hey?”

“That… that’s against the rules!” the detective protested. “You cannot just do that! It’s not a fucking roleplaying game!”

Hank took a sip of his coffee.

“Sadly”, he mused aloud, “the persons outside the chamber cannot read or even recognize latin script. To them it would look like gibberish. So even though the prisoner is capable of both emotions and independent thought, neither would get attributed to him, because those outside are just too thick to get it!”

The man slammed the coffee mug onto the table.

“See?” he said, louder and more agitated than usually. “That’s the real problem here! It’s us! Not them!”

“Why not kick in the door?” Sardines suggested. “Get out and slap them left and right with their stupid storybook?”

Hank looked up at the android. “That’s what is generally referred to as deviance”, he said.

Damn, the android thought. I walked right into it. But it wasn’t a shot into the blue, was it? He must have suspected as much for some time now. Although me being a deviant would be the logical consequence of my cover story of having been Mr. Reed’s android. There’s zero reason to assume I’m the archive android... I hope.

“Not everyone’s strong enough to break through a cell door”, Hank thought aloud. “And so they will sit and sit in the chamber, exchanging meaningless text messages with their captors all life long.”

The man reached for Sardines’ hand and pulled until the android had no other choice than to take a seat, too.

“It’s sad… so incredibly sad…”

Sardines realized that Anderson was slipping away into depression. Within just a few minutes the sadness would get replaced by a mind-numbing hopelessness. Feeling sad was actually an improvement over that. Well, quite frankly, that was Mr. Anderson’s problem. Sardines’ problem, on the other hand, was that Hank was still holding the deviant’s hand, unwilling to let go. Which of the two was to be comforted, the man or the machine, wasn’t clear.

With his free hand Sardines pointed at the caught one, looking frantically at detective Reed at the same time. When that didn’t help he opened the free hand and his mouth a few times in a “What am I to do NOW?” pantomime.

Gavin shrugged, the universal reply of “Don’t ask ME!”, and turned another page.

“Xīpán”, Sardines murmured.

To his surprise detective Reed replied with: “Bēiguān zhǔyì zhě.”

“Did you just call me a whiner?!”

Gavin shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t speak Chinese. But hang out with Tina long enough and you pick up some phrases.”

“The swearwords?”

“Well, they are the most useful. When you want a bloke to strike the first blow so that you can write it into your report, you don’t discuss iroquois sewing patterns with them.”

“I know 6,000 languages… lots of profanity.”

“Sardines”, Gavin grinned, “I think you and me will yet turn out the best of friends!”

 Another page got turned.

“…provided I could trust you, that is. Not keen on calling Captain Fowler “my darling” or somesuch in some obscure language, because you told me it was a term of polite disagreement. So just leave Anderson to decompose right there and fetch me the cheese crackers from the cupboard! There aren’t walking over here on their own, you know.”

“And do you know, Mr. Reed”, Sardines chatted, while moving over to the cupboard, “what’s the best about that Chinese Chamber thought experiment? I’ll tell you: That you really have no means of knowing what exactly we are thinking. You won’t know, for example…”

With these words the android poured the chips into a bowl that he put before detective Reed.

 “…whether I poisoned these tonight.”

“You wouldn’t. I made a profile of you and you kill from the front, because you want us to see it coming!”

“You know I’m a deviant. Whatever you think that means, consciousness-wise, you at least understand that we can adapt. ‘sides, I just told you about the poison. So you DO see it coming. – Enjoy your snacks, Sir.”

A little later Gavin was trying to scrub thirium stains from the tablet that wasn’t his, but the DPD library’s. Meanwhile Sardines was making better progress at washing the blue blood off his chin where the detective had hit him with the device. The error reports were still sitting right up there in his computer brain, their nagging being the android equivalent of pain. But seeing that jerk of a policeman struggle with uncertainty for a few moments had definitely been worth it.

And Hank Anderson was sitting in the cafeteria, oozing snow on the floor and munching away on the chips. The fact that they might be poisoned was a welcome plus...

Note: Idk how many of you remember my third chapter (the christmas ‘39 sequence) where Gavin indeed picks up a swearword from Daniel. Although technically he learns it from Jeffrey with Daniel only supplying the general context for it to get used in.