Warning(s): Post-canon, spoilers, developing relationship, sexual tension, older man/younger man, sexual content, making love, first time, cuddling, falling in love

Hank isn't sure how long he's been standing here, waiting. All he knew was that it was cold as fuck and the anticipation of waiting around was slowly killing him. Ever since he got the call his heart has been racing. It was beating so fast Hank thought it might actually burst from how excited he was.

The call in question came yesterday evening after Hank got off work.

He was relaxing, watching tv with his dog Sumo and contemplating whether or not to get loaded. Now that some of the excitement has gone after the recent events concerning the deviant revolution there wasn't much left for Hank to worry about as far as work went. So he couldn't engross himself in files and paperwork like he has for the past couple of months.

That's when he was brought out of his dilemma by the sound of his phone ringing. Hank had half a mind to just ignore it, figuring it was work calling him, but something compelled him to drag himself off the couch and answer it. Sumo perked his head up to see what was going on before laying his head back down on his big paws. Hank grabbed the phone and answered it with a gruff yeah? without even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Is this Lieutenant Anderson of the Detroit Police Department?" A female voice chimed in softly.

"Who's asking?" Hank replied in a brusque tone.

"I'm calling on behalf of an RK800 model by the name of Connor," the lady explained, and somehow she sounded familiar with her patient and even timbre.

"What's this about? Is he okay?" Hank asked quickly.

It was the first time since the revolution that Hank got word of Connor. He had been worried sick (much more than he'd like to admit) about what would become of the android after he became deviant. They spoke only briefly after what they did at the CyberLife facility and the success of Markus' peaceful revolution, but their conversation had left a bad taste in Hank's mouth.

Hank advocated that Connor should just embrace his life as a deviant, as a living being, and come stay with him at his home, but Connor insisted that he return to CyberLife even after everything that happened. Hank didn't understand how that could possibly be the best option and ended up shouting things at Connor he would come to regret afterwards…

You always were a fucking moron...

Stupid hunk of plastic!

You don't deserve the life you've been given!

I hope they deactivate you!

He had been genuinely pissed off at Connor in that moment, so much so that he could have punched him right in his goofy face but refrained from doing so. He was upset and angry that, even though Connor was now deviant, he still felt obligated to follow protocol like he had no say in the matter. To have someone else decide whether or not he deserved to live. But after hearing his name, all Hank could think about was if Connor was okay. If someone was calling on his behalf, that could only mean one thing... Right?

"I assure you he's doing well, Mr. Anderson," the woman said, putting Hank at ease for the time being. "He's ready to be released from our care and would like to inquire if you'd meet up with him at a designated location."

"Uh, y-yeah. Sure," Hank stammered, feeling his heart stop for a few agonizing seconds before he regained some semblance of articulation. "Where has he asked to meet up at?"

And now here he was freezing his ass off at the Chicken Feed truck, waiting for Boy Wonder to show up. He made the mistake of arriving early, but Hank had been too eager, for lack of a better word. Last night he tossed and turned in bed, unable to catch a wink because he was so preoccupied about finally seeing Connor again after two months without a word. Even having Sumo snuggle up against him in bed couldn't quell his overactive mind. He was like a child on Christmas Eve all over again, waiting impatiently to catch sight of the fabled Santa Claus.

He turned around and was greeted by a familiar sight he thought he'd never see again. Hank wanted to be mad, wanted to yell at Connor for being so selfish and leaving him alone for months… But the moment Connor took a few steps towards him and smiled (an honest to God smile, for crying out loud) Hank crumbled immediately and pulled the android into a tight hug like he had no intention of letting go.

Connor reciprocated the hug, going so far as to rest his head against Hank's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the the older man. It was as if a piece of Hank had been missing and now that he was reunited with Connor he could be complete once again. Hank buried his face into the top of Connor's head and inhaled deeply. Connor didn't smell like much of anything, but there was a faint scent of cologne lingering about him.

Hank didn't want to let go, but if he didn't now he wouldn't be able to at all. Hank pulled away but he held Connor close as he got a good look at the android. He was looking Connor up and down, making sure to study every little detail about him for fear that he might leave again. He was still the same model Hank had initially met at the bar those few months back. Hank could tell because his model number below the RK800 badge was still the same. The older man smirked.

"You're still wearing this stupid thing?" Hank commented, referring the the CyberLife issued suit Connor was required to wear at all times.

"Didn't have a change of clothes on me," Connor replied with a hint of playfulness in his tone, flashing another smile.

"We'll fix that," Hank promised, hands on Connor's hips. "Soon enough you'll have a style all your own."

"Style? Like yours?" Connor remarked, sounding particularly sassy in his delivery.

He yanked Connor further into him, holding the android close as his hand dipped down to rest at the small of Connor's back. The way he held Connor was intimate in a way. They were pressed tightly together, the length of their bodies aligning perfectly as they embraced, but enough space between them to stare into each other's eyes.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?" Hank inquired, gazing down into benevolent, warm brown eyes.

"Nothing. I like the way you dress," Connor replied ardently, gently clinging to Hank's jacket. "Shabby chic suits you."

"Shabby chic? Is that a nice way of saying I look like a bum?" Hank offered with a short laugh.

"I was going to say unkempt, but now that you mention it…" Connor trailed off.

It was so surreal to see Connor smiling and being snarky, of all things. If Hank didn't know any better, and if Connor wasn't wearing his standard issue CyberLife uniform, he'd say Connor was human. He sure did seem a lot more loose and comfortable since the last time Hank's seen him, after all it's been a little over two months since Connor became deviant. Whatever he was doing at CyberLife for the past couple months, it seemed to have worked.

"You certainly got more feisty since you've been gone," Hank observed.

His voice was a low murmur now. It's not like Hank felt the need to keep his voice down, seeing as how no one was around, but something in the way they held each other made their exchange feel intimate and secret. Hank felt obligated to protect Connor, keeping his voice down and holding him close seemed like the only way to do that. As silly as that was.

"Side effect of becoming human, I suppose," Connor said wistfully.

Hank should be happy for Connor, and he truly is all things considered, but now that the excitement of seeing Connor has worn off a little bit he can't help but dwell on the past. Surely, Connor remembered all those terrible things Hank shouted at him the last time they were together. He had hard drives for storing information like that, he wouldn't have just forgotten.

Maybe Connor learned about discretion and was playing ignorant for Hank's sake. Bringing it up now would just make things awkward and possibly start an argument the older man wasn't ready to get into just yet. Besides, Connor just got back and what Hank said two months ago should be the farthest thing from his mind right now. He should just enjoy finally being able to hold Connor in his arms, but his stomach was in knots over the guilt weighing on his conscience.

He slowly let his hands drop back down to his sides and took a step away from Connor to put some distance between them. Connor stood there obediently, none the wiser about what was going through Hank's head right now, and gave the older man an easy smile. Later, Hank would notice Connor doing that more and more now that he had free will over his emotions.

"I'm freezing my balls off. How about we take you home," Hank suggested, slapping Connor on the back.

"Home?" Connor inquired curiously, tilting his head slightly.

"Well, I mean, my place. I assume you don't have anywhere to go, so I figured you can crash with me for the time being," Hank stammered. He felt embarrassed having to explain himself without it coming off as awkward. "Unless you don't want to, then I understand."

"Home…" Connor echoed. He stared up into Hank's eyes, beaming in wonder. "I'd like that."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Hank said, holding his hand out towards Connor like an invitation.

Connor accepted, following Hank to his car as they walked hand in hand. It might have been freezing out, but Connor felt warm and toasty on the inside.