As the following week rolled around, things between Hank and Connor started to get tense. Ever since Hank peeked in on Connor exploring himself, for lack of a better word, Hank has been actively avoiding the android. It had been a subconscious defense mechanism and Hank didn't even realize it at first.
It started with little things, like backing away slightly when Connor stepped into his personal space; a subtle shift of weight. Avoiding eye contact whenever they talked or nervously changing the subject when Connor brought up something remotely risqué or trivial. The worst of it was when they would watch something with a sex scene in it.
Connor was like a sponge when he watched tv and whenever there were two people on screen pretending to have sex with each other, Connor would tilt his head and ask Hank if that was what humans did with one another. Hank felt flustered every time he had to explain what was going on. He might have been more casual about it if it weren't for the fact that he thought about doing those things to Connor himself. Which was silly since Hank knew that could never be.
Still, the prospect of doing it with Connor dwelled on him. Hence why he was going out of his way to keep a certain distance between them. He had hoped that Connor wouldn't notice the growing space between them if he did it at a gradual pace, little by little, but he fucked up when the late night cuddling on the couch had stopped altogether.
Hank found himself sitting in the armchair off to the side to ensure that there wouldn't be any snuggling. The thing is, and this was the odd part, Connor clearly noticed a huge change like that but he never commented on it. He never questioned why Hank opted to sit alone and he never asked the older man to join him back on the couch. Hank had hoped that the space he was putting between them was finally doing its job, but it was doing the opposite.
It distanced Connor away from him, sure, but the tension still remained despite it all. Just because they were physically kept apart didn't mean that they were also emotionally detached from each other.
Every time Hank thought he was finally accepting the fact that this was for the best, Connor's gaze would drift over towards him and the look on his face would smash his heart into pieces. It's the kind of expression Sumo would often use when he was a puppy. The soft, imploring look of an animal seeking out affection or a treat. Connor had the same look about him. Except when he did it Hank found it even more hard to ignore.
It also didn't help whenever Connor insisted on walking around in nothing but underwear and Hank's old Detroit police academy shirt. And Connor was methodical in his approach. He would bend over in front of Hank or brush by him close enough to where his backside would rub against Hank's groin. Connor was so well at coming off as naive and innocent that Hank really wasn't sure if Connor knew what he was doing or not. Either way, no matter how much Hank tried to push himself away from Connor and avoid him, it became increasingly difficult to resist the android.
One day he got so fed up with Connor parading around in his underwear that he actually called him out on it.
"You know, I bought you clothes for a reason," Hank remarked.
He had been watching Connor tediously throughout the day and not once did Connor think to put on a shred of actual clothing.
"I'm not going anywhere," Connor replied like the smartass he is. "This is more comfortable anyway. Maybe you should take your clothes off."
"Believe it or not, this is comfortable for me," Hank denied as he lounged around in his street clothes.
"Whatever you say, Lieutenant," Connor taunted.
The only times Connor called him Lieutenant anymore was when he was upset or being snarky. And, oh, how Hank loathed the way it got under his skin when Connor was snarky. Connor could pretend like he didn't know better all he wanted, but Hank knew better. Even before Connor was deviant, the android had the capacity to be a tease.
That became more and more apparent as Connor continued to push his Hank's buttons.
Just yesterday, Connor took it upon himself to wash the dishes that had started to collect in the sink. Hank figured he could catch a shower in the meantime while Connor was busy, but by the time Hank got out, dressed himself, and walked back into the living room Connor had somehow managed to mess up cleaning dishes.
The sink was overflowing and Connor's shirt was soaking wet (he was actually wearing one of his own this time). He was covered in suds from the dish soap and looking incredulously over at Hank like he hadn't realized what was happening. Hank's eyes darted from the shirt clinging to Connor's body over towards the sink as he stood there for a long moment before he could react properly.
Hank raced over to shut the tap off before the water could spread even further across the floor and regarded Connor with a dubious gaze. Connor even looked just as surprised as him which kind of puzzled Hank. He took in the mess of water and bubbles on the floor at Connor's feet and slowly raked his eyes up the length of the android for good measure.
"What the hell happened?" Hank asked, holding out his arms.
"I don't know. I was cleaning the dishes and all of a sudden I just saw you looking at me," Connor explained as he took in the soapy carnage at his feet.
Connor tapped his feet against the floor, making a little pitter-patter sound as his toes splashed in the water. He peered down at himself and pulled at the wet cloth sticking to his chest. The way the water had drenched Connor's shirt had it clinging to him in such a way that it outlined his sinewy definition perfectly. Hank couldn't take his eyes off of it.
"I guess my software must have glitched," Connor pondered thoughtfully as Hank leered at him hungrily.
"Why don't you go change and I'll clean this up," Hank suggested as Connor just stood there looking remorseful.
"Okay," Connor dismissed, walking off towards Hank's bedroom to put on some fresh clothes.
Hank laid a hand against his face and looked down at the mess created by Connor. He grabbed a couple towels and draped them across the floor to soak up all the water, all while he curses under his breath. He said things like fucking android and goddamnit as he swabbed up the remnants of soapy water with paper towels. By the time he cleaned up the mess and tossed the paper towels away, Connor had returned and was standing in the archway of the kitchen.
Hank turned around and was greeted by the sight of Connor in his underwear. No shirt, no pants… Just his underwear. It was the first time Hank's seen Connor bare from the front and he was surprised to see that he wasn't built the way he thought he'd be. The sex bots at the Eden Club were proportioned in an ideal physique that appealed to both men and women, but Connor wasn't like that.
He was sleeker, less defined as it were, and lithe. His legs were long and slim, agile; impish in a way Hank realized as he stared longer. The beauty marks and moles that adorned Connor's back were also scattered across his torso, giving him a more authentic depiction of a human. The only thing that was missing was body hair, which Connor was devoid of.
Connor took a step into the kitchen, towards Hank, and batted his lashes bashfully up at the older man.
"I'm sorry about the mess I made, Hank," Connor apologized, hanging his head down. "I don't know what came over me."
"It's fine, Connor. Mistakes happen. No need to beat yourself up over it," Hank told him, trying not to notice the way Connor's hips swayed as he approached closer. "Human error and all that…"
"Human..." Connor hummed, smirking a little, inching closer and closer. "What would happen if I was human, Hank?"
"What do you mean?" Hank inquired, feeling like an animal being backed up into a corner.
"If I were human, would this bother you?" Connor asked as he gestured to his body.
"It already does bother me," Hank clarified.
"Why? Am I ugly?" Connor almost sounded hurt by the implication and his eyes drooped slightly. "I know you think my face is goofy and my voice is weird, but-"
"No, of course not. You're not ugly," Hank interrupted, fearing he might have actually offended Connor. "What does this have to do with anything?"
"You're always telling me to put clothes on when I have no intention of going out. Why is that?" Connor rattled on, just a few feet away from Hank now.
"Because it's the courteous thing to do," Hank explained, getting flustered as Connor took another step forward.
Connor was probably a foot away now, close enough to reach out and touch Hank if he chose to, and gazed imploringly up at the older man. It's like he was testing Hank's resolve to see how far he could before Hank backed away from him. But Hank stood his ground even as Connor laid a hand on Hank's shoulder.
"Does it really bother you that much, Hank?" Connor asked, voice low and soft; proding.
"Yes," Hank answered honestly.
But not in the way you might think, he wanted to add.
"You don't see me walking around in my underwear," Hank pointed out, hoping that was the logic to end all arguments.
But Connor was tenacious.
"I wouldn't mind it if you did," Connor stated, completely unfazed by Hank's excuses. "You should try it once in awhile. Maybe you wouldn't be so uptight."
"I'm not uptight. I'm in my own home. I don't need to frolic around in my underwear to feel comfortable," Hank said, sounding tired and defeated as if he's gone through this a million times already. "So Connor, please... Put some damn clothes on."
Connor smirked, though it looked like it was on the verge of becoming a grimace. Connor relented and let his hand drop back down to his side, backing away from Hank. The space between them was strained, so tense that it could snap you in half.
"Alright, Lieutenant," Connor complied reluctantly. "I'm sorry."
After that, Hank noticed a drastic change in Connor's demeanor. He was more reserved for the next following days and the only time he wasn't wearing clothes is when he was turning in for bed. Hank thought this would be better for both of them and maybe it wouldn't tempt Hank as much, but it did the exact opposite. It put a strain on their relationship and, despite putting a good distance between them, it proved to be too much.
Connor was feeling further and further away. Each time Hank came home from work he saw the android aimlessly flipping through channels on the tv with his head propped up by his free hand as if he was disinterested in everything. They barely spoke and when they did it was mostly small talk and the usual questions. How are you doing? or what did you do today? were the go to questions Hank would ask to break the awkward tension.
Most of the time they'd spend the evening watching a movie in silence or Connor would offer to help Hank go over some case files. They'd sit down at the kitchen table and work on them for hours sometimes. They talked about facts and Connor would act like nothing was wrong, but Hank could tell the android was itching to say something. He'd even catch Connor looking across the table at him because he was doing the same thing.
Living with Connor went on like this for another week after their initial confrontation. There were many times when Hank wanted to apologize for his defensive behavior, but he was too much of a stubborn fool to swallow his pride and admit his faults. What made Hank feel even more terrible was the fact that it felt like he was oppressing Connor by telling him what he can and can't do; making arbitrary rules that ultimately benefited Hank.
And he hated himself for that.
