Holy fuck.
Holy fuck!
Holy FUCK!
Hank wanted to yell something to that effect when he came so hard he was temporarily blinded, but all he could manage to do was to clamp his teeth down on the juncture of Connor's neck and shoulder and groan long, and loud around the mouthful of synthetic skin. Not only did Connor arch so hard into him he very nearly lifted him off the bed; the sudden vice-like grip around him, the heat of him climbing and the vibrating set Hank off so suddenly and so hard he'd swear he was on a hair-trigger.
It was equally unbearably fucking good and complete agony as he came deep with a few satisfying thrusts, buried (for probably the first time in his life) in Connor right to the base as he shot his load; a carnal pleasure fulfilling some primal need in him to lay claim to his partner or some shit like that - all he knew was, it felt really, really fucking good for a change to finally be in someone to the base of himself. And it didn't stop. The sensations didn't stop. He had to pull-out - he couldn't take anymore of that hot, hotter than average heat and the rolling, vibrating, squeezing- fucking hell. It was like Connor was trying to suck the life out of him.
He held his breath as he slowly withdrew, his upper-lip ticking as his oversensitised cock pulled past that still-vibrating heat, and sighed in both relief and disbelief when it was over.
Coming down from probably the strangest (and hottest, let's be real) orgasm Hank's ever had, he released his death grip on Connor's slick dark hair and sighed deeply into the space his face had taken refuge in, letting his body sink onto Connor's quaking frame in a boneless melt. The hard Android body underneath him took his weight easily, and briefly he felt grateful for the fact that he didn't need to worry about hurting him, or pressing so hard that he couldn't breathe, because Connor didn't really do either of those things.
He did have some other very fucking interesting functions though. Hank's eyelashes smushed against the sheets as he blinked once in disbelief, and then again as he contemplated what he had just experienced.
It seemed the closer and closer Connor got towards an orgasm, the more his body pulled Hank towards his, the inside of him constricting like a hot, wet vice. And then when he came; rolling, vibrating, actually vibrating around him, making sure that Hank came so hard he wasn't sure his balls would work properly ever again.
And if the sticky slick between them was any indication, presumably Connor could actually ejaculate too.
That Cyberlife… props for realism, he supposed.
"Holy fuck, Connor," he finally managed to pant out, sounding nasal with his nose squished against the mattress, "that was crazy. Fuckin-A, that was crazy,"
But Connor's useless squirming didn't stop, at least not completely. "Hank," was the small, breathless answer, "please. Turn it off. I can't take anymore. It's so much, Hank, it's so much -"
He sounded like he was crying, his voice quavering and raspy. It jolted Hank up from his position on the bed, "You okay?"
The Android looked gorgeously, utterly fucked. He was covered in Hank's sweat, in the clear slick of his own come, his hair was a frazzled mess, the synthetic flesh on his neck had melted away to turn a shocking blue where Hank had bitten him so hard that he could see the exposed chassis underneath. But no tears, at least.
His LED was blinking rapidly between red and yellow, though. Hank frowned.
Hank slurred, still half devastated from his orgasm, "Whaswrong?"
Connor trembled, his eyes still jammed shut and eeked out, "I can't Hank. I can't take anymore feeling. Please, turn the device off."
"Oh," and then it dawned on him, "Oh! Shit, yeah, sure. Sorry!"
Peeling himself off the shivering android under him and stepping off the bed, Hank's vision swam for the briefest moment while he stood upright, his exhaustion hitting him like a brick. His post-fuck cuddle could be postponed while he got to helping his partner come down from the high, but not having it immediately meant he was lumbering around like an elephant.
Hank stumbled out of the bedroom and into the living room, whacking his upper arm against the doorframe and swearing loudly on his way out. That orgasm really did take the life out of him. His legs wobbled as he made his way to the couch, searching blearily for the… thing that was making Connor crazy.
… The hell was it again?
The device was on the coffee table past a music magazine. Hank picked it up and shook his head out before looking at the screen with half-interest. Sumo, regarding his nakedness, looked disapprovingly at him from the kitchen and give an exasperated whoomff. Hank flapped his hand at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
A black screen with an innocent looking slider beamed back at him. Did he have to be near Connor for it to work? Was it like… wireless or something?
… What if he didn't turn it off?
The question stuck in the end of his stomach. What if he didnt turn it off? A totally selfish question, he thought, knowing Connor was in there on the verge of overloading, begging him nearly to the point of tears to make the feeling stop. Still…
What if he pushed the slider bar higher?
… No. Don't… touch it. He thought, frowning at the little black screen in his hand. With a smoother step, he brought it back into the bedroom in case the range didn't reach Connor from the living room.
His gaze from that tempting little slider was drawn to an even more tempting sight of what was waiting for him in his bed. Connor was still squirming on the sheets, presumably pressing as much of the back of himself as possible against the cotton, his hands grabbing and twisting the duvet, then letting go. Twisting, letting go.
And he was still hard as a fucking rock, each smooth, slow undulation of his hips bobbing his cock towards the ceiling. Hank's mouth watered. He edged his lower lip between his teeth for a moment.
Oh, to have that kind of stamina again.
Maybe there was something to this whole android thing. Doesn't get tired, doesn't complain - screw when you want - weren't those his words? But… Connor wasn't like that. This was his decision. This is what he asked for, this is what he said back to him.
And God-fucking-dammit, if he wanted to stop, Hank would stop. Even if looking at him was so erotic it was almost visually painful to watch.
"I… I think it is subsiding again. I think I am alright," Connor said as Hank approached the bed. The look that Connor gave him from beneath dark eyelashes while Hank loomed over him was warm and heady, his lips parted. Still, his hands twisted at the sheets. Hank bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from reaching out to touch a smooth, athletic abdomen, knowing it would probably result in Connor's continued torture.
Hank's eyes strayed to the device in his hands, and then up from long alabaster legs to that rolling cock still reaching up, up towards nothing. "You know," he started, a haze filling the edges of his vision, "we've only tried this at one setting… What do you say to - I dunno… turning this thing up a little?"
The darkly heated look that Connor gave him made him wish he didn't come so fucking quickly, even though it was totally worth it.
"... I don't know what it will do to me," did the android's voice pitch lower? What happened to the begging and crying just a few moments ago?
Hank rose a brow at him and rumbled back, "Well, do you wanna find out?"
Connor's hands twisted in the sheets and stayed for a moment, gazing up at him with that look. It was a rare look, hot and honest, inviting in a way that Hank wished he had the energy to reciprocate. Still, just because he probably couldn't get hard again so soon didn't mean he couldn't… indulge the android in a little more of the sensations he was feeling.
Hank held his breath while he waited for an answer. He could say no, after all.
"Yes," Connor seemed to consider his next words, but Hank was already moving towards him, "But… Hank, I was very close to crashing earlier when I orgasmed. Please keep the device close, in case you have to turn it off."
Hank kneeled on one leg in between Connor's thighs, "I'll be careful. Promise."
With his other foot on the floor, he reached to place the device down near Connor's head, careful not to touch his skin in case he started going nuts again. His finger hovered over the little icon at the end of the bar. Connor's LED was spinning idly between yellow and red.
"You ready?"
"I'm curious. I don't know if I'm ready,"
"Gonna need your consent, smartass," Hank sassed back.
"Hnnnhhh~," the android undulated underneath him, but not high enough to really touch their skin together, "Your respect for my autonomy is appreciated. Please, just… be careful with it."
"I will," Hank leaned down to brush his lips against Connor's in an action that made him still completely, his brown eyes glowing back at him, almost surprised.
Hank held his gaze when his finger pushed the icon without really caring where it landed, and in the microseconds that it took for his finger to push it from one side to the other, Connor's chest rose in a hard arch towards him, his eyes squeezed shut, his head flew back into the sheets and he let out a gasp that became a moan that became a yell.
The last time Connor raised his voice at him, it was to warn him about the crazed, gun-wielding deviant nearby. Hank decided he liked this scene much better than that one, especially as it made Connor just as desperate looking as his hands fully fisted in the duvet and pulled as a counterpoint, supposedly to what he was feeling.
It certainly looked much stronger than what he felt previously.
As Hank edged himself down the bed, careful to try and avoid his writhing, squirming partner, he loomed over a set of undulating hips and ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip.
Now, Connor couldn't even look at him, not with his head mashed so fiercely into the sheets and his whole body pulled tight like a wire. Hank used his partner's lack of vision to slowly cup and press his hips to the bed, grinning at the particularly loud response he got. At the startled yell, the tightening of muscle and plate and the surge up into his hands.
"Hank… Hank," he panted, but didn't say anything else. Hank made a questioning, "Hn?", chuckling lowly when he didn't get an answer past the android's loud moaning and struggling against his palms pressing his hips into the bed.
A low, deliberate puff of air against the side of Connor's cock kicked his hips up into the strength of Hank holding him down, and Hank felt himself salivating at the sight of him.
Fuck yeah, this was so much stronger than the first instance he had the device at. Briefly he wished there was something similar for humans; mildly he was sure there was some sort of crazy narcotic out there that could replicate the feeling… but the side-effects probably weren't worth it.
Still… to feel on the level that Connor could… Hank was a little jealous.
Jealous at the desperate sob that came out of him when Hank pressed a kiss to the juncture of his hip and thigh, at how his toes curled and his hands twisted the sheets so tightly they creaked in his grip. Now, Hank always enjoyed a bit of foreplay when it was going - he'd never been one to turn down a few minutes of grinding or a half-assed handjob, but it was never enough to get him off.
It felt nice, it made the fucking that much more fun when it happened, but a part of him did wish - a little - that he could feel it at the deeply pleasurable level that Connor could.
Hank really couldn't help the dark laugh that rumbled out of him when the kiss he planted against the underside of Connor's cock tore out some sort of sobbing yell from the android, who's useless struggling only proved to increase the friction. Hank held his lips there, travelling slowly up, feather-light, flicking his eyes up to see if he was at least watching, but could only see the hard arch of Connor's chest and stomach.
He could feel the tension coiling quickly in the thighs straining against his forearms as he kissed his way up, the sobbing getting louder, and louder that briefly made him feel sorry for the neighbours or anyone happening to be outside and, well, Sumo. Did they think he was fucking him, or torturing him? Both? Neither? Didn't matter…
Didn't matter, when the jerking, thrusting, and crying was interrupted for one glorious moment as the cock against his mouth kicked and Connor yelled just one word as he came in a shuddering jerk, a jet of clear come spurting up and landing across his stomach and the duvet.
Not Hank's name. Not an affirmation, or a cry-out to a deity.
Nope. Connor arched against Hank with his head thrown back and yelled out the word, "Fuck!"-
-In a moment that took Hank by such surprise that he just admonished behind a disbelieving grin, "H-hey, language!"
As he watched Connor ride out the waves of his orgasm, Hank's ego took a massive boost. If he could make the android come (and swear) just by edging him with his mouth… device or no, it still felt pretty spectacular.
And if he could make Connor come so quickly after his last orgasm… how many more could he get out of him before the android begged him to stop?
Cursing his own useless cock as he reflexively thrust forward against the bed, he wished he could get hard just so he could fuck his partner again, but knew that probably wasn't going to be happening any time soon. Much as he wanted to see Connor's reaction to being fucked rather than just edged when he was a like a lightning-rod for pleasure, Hank knew he wouldn't be able to get hard again until he had a good night's sleep.
Just one of the perks of being over 50. Jesus, fuck his life.
Still, that didn't mean he couldn't keep going until Connor told him, and now armed with all of this new knowledge about his partner, Hank's grin started to expose teeth when he thought about how much more he could do to the android when it wasn't about his own pleasure.
Leaning his forearms against Connor's spasming thighs, Hank pushed himself up the bed and leaned down on his elbows either side of the gasping android; getting a good, strong grip around his still-hard cock.
Hank used the weight of his torso to contain the writhing as Connor slammed up against him.
"Feel good…?" He asked quietly.
Connor choked.
"It looks good." Hank stroked firmly, once, twice. "You make it look good."
He could actually feel the effects of his praise through the cock in his hand. Connor released his grip on the sheets to push fiercely against Hank's shoulders as he came with a startled; "Oh!"
Most of it got on Hank's hand, the warm slick easing the friction but he couldn't tell if that was good or bad, judging by the android's crying and yelling.
Briefly he wondered if it tasted of anything, or if it was toxic. Judging by Cyberlife, it probably was safe for human consumption and tasted like watermelon, just to be extra.
He kind of wanted to try it.
The neighbours were absolutely going to call the police soon if he didn't give it a rest (and then how the hell would he explain this to the DPD when they showed up at his door? Fowler would probably have a fucking stroke). Hank's ears were actually starting to ring at the volume of Connor's wailing. Keeping his grip around his length, Hank used his forearms to half-wrestle the android back against the bed, savouring the sight of him for just a moment, pulled tight like a cord and scrabbling at Hank's shoulders, his cock still pulsing and leaking in Hank's hand.
He'd never had a partner so sensitive and receptive before, so into the feeling of their own pleasure before. Occasionally he'd fantasise about it, but it was never more than a recurring daydream.
As he tongued the back of his bottom teeth, Hank pondered how he could reasonably do this for fucking hours. That he probably had been fucking the android for hours.
Hank never took himself for a sadist or as particularly dominant because of his passivity - but this was a different sort of pain Connor was feeling, since he didn't really feel pain at all.
All those lonely nights watching edging porn suddenly made sense.
He snaked his tongue out to press the broad flat against the wet bead of artificial come at the head of Connor's cock - Connor jerked up to throw a questioning glance down, but went straight back down against the bed again in a shaking undulation.
"Hank, fuck… no, please. Don't-"
But Hank wasn't listening. He just about managed to catch the android's squinted stare down at him as he took the head of him into his mouth, and then Hank could only see the underside of his chin as he threw his head back again.
"Nn-nnnnngh! Hank!"
Chuckling lowly as his mouth filled with fluid and the head pulsed against his tongue, Hank didn't give him a moment after his - now fourth orgasm du jour - and took more of him in until the head bumped against his throat.
Strangely enough, there was no taste to it, just a weird viscous texture that proved fairly easy to swallow with only mild disgust. It had been decades since he'd given a blowjob, but he guessed by Connor's sobbing and screaming and shaky thrusting that he wasn't doing a half-bad job. He laved his tongue against the cock in his mouth and sucked, swallowing back a laugh at the response.
He didn't think he'd ever be able to hear the android speak normally again. Normally so calm and level, now he was utterly unhinged; raw and uninhibited, yelling Hank's name and swearing and moaning so loud that there was no way the neighbours wouldn't know what he was doing now. He was he gonna look them in the eye in the morning before his commute?
Ah, fuck 'em.
"Hank! F-fuck, ah, Hank! No- Ah! Ah! Ah! Han-nnnghk! Nnnh- Ah! AH! AHNH!"
Hank kept Connor on that edge past his orgasm for what felt like forever, keeping that pressure with his mouth, swallowing another load and struggling to hold his thighs and hips to the bed with what strength he could find.
Until Connor let go of his shoulders and grabbed the duvet above his head and shrieked; "Stop! PLEASE!"
It only took a second for Hank to pull his mouth off him.
And on his way up, he relished the idea of seeing the shivering android completely undone by another orgasm, but the sight was more surprising than erotic, in hindsight.
Maybe it was a safety feature to indicate a fault or something, but whatever was going on, a wide spot in the centre of Connor's chest was flashing with a red light, under his artificial skin. His LED was now a solid red, not cycling like it was going to change. And when Hank reached forward, he could feel the sizzling heat before he even touched the spot on Connor's chest.
"Overheating!" Connor exclaimed, "Turn the device down!"
Hank quickly grabbed the little black screen which had escaped down the bed with all of Connor's moving around. With his thumb he switched it on, the blue LED icon twinkling back at him as he did as he was told, and turned it down to the barest amount without switching it off completely.
As the pumping in Connor's chest slowed and the flashing red light began to ebb, he said, slowly and deliberately, "Can't… turn it off… completely. That could... result… in… system reset."
"You okay?!"
Connor kept his eyes closed, but answered; "I need to... cool down."
Hank offered instead, "I could throw you into the bath."
The android laughed, thankfully, and quietly said, "That will not… be necessary," and then continued with half-open eyes and a tired smile, "You have… worn me out."
Hank's stomach did a funny flip. That was, by far, the sexiest thing the android had said all night.
He thought they weren't supposed to get tired… holy shit.
Ego soaring, Hank pushed himself off the bed completely with the device in hand, and lay next to Connor on the crumpled duvet, waiting for his signal to turn it off completely.
The familiarity of the bed under him brought a drowsiness with it. As some time passed, Hank yawned and adjusted his position on his side, watching the glowing red fade completely from Connor's chest.
More time passed, there was only a barely perceptible hum emanating from what he presumed was his android partner beside him, the twittering of birds outside, and his own breath as it travelled in and out from his nose, the odd passing car. Fuck, he was tired, and his body was starting to get a little sore. He was sure his ass and back were going to be in serious cramp in the morning.
Connor's chest rose and fell, and even though Hank knew there was no reason for it, other than to make him seem more human… it was strangely comforting to watch the rhythm, in a way Hank couldn't quite place.
He guessed he… still didn't really didn't feel comfortable with the idea of fucking an android.
With Connor being the obvious exception.
"... Can you turn it off now?" Connor asked, clear and calm, his eyes opening to look at the ceiling.
Hank did as he was asked, and pushed the slider bar all the way to the left.
The change wasn't overly obvious. Connor had been purposefully pressing himself against the bedsheets to increase the areas of his skin being touched. Without the effects of the device he had no need to enjoy the texture on his skin, so he just sort of…
… Lay there…
Until he pressed both hands down on his lower stomach, his synthetic skin dissolving away from the area there to reveal the hard chassis underneath, a panel sliding up into his chest somewhere. Steam billowed out for a second. He reached inside the cavity and gripped something, twisted, there was a metallic pop. In his hand he pulled out a small, square chip which had turned a smouldering black. The green edges smoked in the light shining through the window.
Connor took a second to examine the ruined chip before lowering his hand and letting it drop to the floor with a sigh.
"I have burned through one of my CPUs," he explained, "or… I suppose, you have burned through one of my CPUs. A new one has been ordered and will be delivered by drone in 6 hours."
Hank couldn't really hold back his grin to know he'd overheated Cyberlife's most sophisticated model by making him come so many times that he nearly went on fire, "You said one. I guess that one isn't so important, then?"
"Correct," Connor laughed, angling his head around to face him, "I will be a little slower than usual until I fit the replacement."
"Huh. Same, I guess. But for a different reason."
Hank got a burning sensation when he closed his eyes. Yeah, the android was pretty fucked but hell, so was he. He hadn't had sex in years. His body was not exactly used to all the strain or repetitive movements. He glanced around Connor's head to his old-as-shit digital alarm clock on the side table, and saw that it was only 5:04pm. He could totally have one of those naps that accidently turned into a full sleep.
Connor's expression started falling the more Hank absentmindedly watched him.
It was a while before he said anything, but when he did, he sounded so heart-achingly disappointed; "... I won't be able to integrate the program into my system."
This wasn't the pillow-talk he was expecting, but considering the crest-fallen look on Connor's face, Hank wasn't sure what to think.
"... Why's that?"
"It is too strong," Connor began, raising his hand to look at it in the evening light, "I couldn't focus on anything but the sensations. It took over everything. I would not be able to continue working with the effect that it has on me."
There was a humming sound as the artificial skin on his hand melted away to the forearm, showing the smooth, hard metal and plastic of his fingers and hand. For a moment, Connor seemed utterly foreign to Hank; a creature from another world, something celestial and eternal.
And yet here he was, in Hank's bed.
An immortal being from another planet. The best power-bottom he'd ever had. Cool.
It almost didn't seem real, but the ache all over him certainly was. The twinge in his lower back was quick to remind him of it.
But it hit him then; this sort of melancholy wasn't like Connor. Was he really that beat up about it…?
Hank wasn't sure what to say. Hell, he was still mostly fucked from his orgasm earlier, his brain was like mush.
There was a quiet sigh, and as he looked over to Connor still examining his plastic hand, Hank softened when he could see the streaky tracks of tears rolling down Connor's face.
"Oh jeeze," Hank said, reaching forward and scooping Connor into his arms, who let himself easily be dragged, curling into him, "don't go fuckin' crying on me now."
There was no sniffling, probably because he didn't produce things like snot, so the only way he could tell that it continued was by the constant dampness against his chest. Connor's arm wound gently around his waist, but there was a strange sort of stiffness to him. Not because he was made of plastic and metal, but because Hank guessed he just didn't need to feel comfortable.
"I want to feel this," Connor said sadly, his voice reedy, "it's so frustrating. I was so close to what I wanted… but…"
Ah. So those weren't post-fuck regret tears. He really was upset. Hank pulled him in a little tighter, rubbing his chin against the top of the android's hair, "Oh Connor, this isn't just about petting Sumo, is it?"
It wasn't just about fucking Hank, either. It might have been part of what Connor wanted, but maybe what he really wanted -
Was to be a little more human.
Okay, Hank had to cheer him the fuck up, and fast, because it was getting to him too. But he was at a total loss as to what the android actually enjoyed. He took on Hank's interests and wellbeing because that's what he was built for, but beyond that Hank really wasn't so sure.
Hank could always turn the device back on and have another go at him, but then he said his new processor wouldn't arrive for another few hours, so that was probably out of the question.
Although he did kind of want to stick his thumb in Connor's mouth again and see what would happe-!
OH!
With a sudden burst of inspiration, Hank grasped Connor's shoulder tightly and shook it a little, "Hey, stop crying for a second and put some pants on. I got an idea."
Connor looked up at him suspiciously, "I think I might need to take a shower first,"
"This will only take a second, c'mon," he sat up, searching the ground for his sweats and t-shirt and getting up to put them on, "just pants is fine. You can shower later."
Wiping the tears from his face and throwing on his jeans, Connor followed him dutifully out of the house to the back garden, Sumo trailing behind and wagging his tail like they were going for a walk. Hank noticed that the android didn't bother with a shirt - it was probably too ruined to use anyway.
He placed his hands on Connor's shoulders and squared them to the same height, "So, okay, you can't feel, yeah? But you still wanna learn how to whistle, right?"
He nodded twice. "I have been practicing."
"Yeah, and you suck at it," Hank deadpanned, "but there's more than one way to whistle. Why don't you try it this way, instead."
Hank explained the movements, turning away from him to face the back garden and making an A shape with his index and middle fingers on both hands, drawing his lips back to cover his teeth and using the tips of his middle and index fingers to push his tongue back, sealing the area around his fingers with his mouth and blowing through the hole between both index fingers for one long, loud note.
Connor seemed surprised by the volume of the noise.
"Give it a try."
He watched Connor copy the movements with perfect precision, even so far as turning to the back garden wall.
He stalled, like he was unsure, looking down at his fingers in his mouth like it was a waste of time.
And when he blew, there was a short, loud whistle that made Sumo stand up off his haunches to give a questioning boof.
Connor wrenched his hands out of his mouth in disbelief, "I… I did it?"
Hank punched the air, "Fuck yeah you did! You did it!"
With a surprised smile, Connor put his fingers back in his mouth and tried again, whistling a few short, sharp notes.
Hank grinned when he stopped, looking proud. Connor still looked at him with that sort of joyous disbelief.
"Hey, uh," Hank started, "you ever get into trouble and you need me, just whistle like that. I'll know it's you. I'll come get you."
It was a regrettably romantic statement, one that wasn't lost on the android at all as his expression softened. As an embarrassed blush raced up chest and into his neck, face and ears, Hank rubbed the back of his neck to try and will it away.
"Noted," was all he said, still with that soft look on his face. Oh shit, did this mean they were dating or what?
Doesn't matter.
But he did notice that their walk back into the house had a lot more subtle brushing of arms than was usually appropriate.
"Hey, so, where did you get that device anyway?" Hank asked, wondering if maybe there was some sort of fix for it. Maybe there was hope for Connor after all.
Now it was Connor's turn to rub the back of his neck, "I can tell you, but… I don't think you will like the answer,"
