As Hank stood in the kitchen, phone glued to his ear, he drummed his fingers on the countertop and waited for the line on the other end of the phone to pick up.

Meanwhile, he could hear Connor pressing himself against the wall in the hallway and groan at the sensation. Hank winced, and drummed his fingers a little faster.

The line answered, and there was a brief pause, before Kamski's irritating drawl sounded tinny through the miniscule speaker next to his ear; "... Lt. Anderson… what can I do for you?"

And Hank felt like exploding. He nearly did, as he bit the words into the phone, "I'll tell you what you can fuckin' do - fix what you did to my fuckin' android!"

The bathroom had been a whole goddamn experience for Connor, which was about an hour ago. Between the scratch of the towels, the cool chill of the tiles, and the feeling of the shower hitting his skin, he'd been pressing his naked torso against every available surface since, wandering around the house in nothing but those black boxer-briefs. It was for "research", he said. "Expanding his database", sure. Hank was more than happy to comply for the first while, but it didn't take away from the fact that Kamski had been tinkering with Connor on the sly, and he was not. Fucking. Here. For. It.

When Connor explained what Kamski did after the whistling thing out in the backyard, Hank nearly lost his damn mind while Connor begged him to relax. It was obvious that there was still some naivete to Connor, which he supposed he lacked in life experience, social programming be damned. He was lucky Kamski didn't take advantage of him because he sure as shit sounded like he was going to, and Hank was ready to read him the goddamn Riot Act.

Kamski's irritating chuckle sounded back at him, "Well, it is good to speak with you again too, Lieutenant. Is something wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's fuckin' wrong-"

Unfortunately, Connor took that moment to flop onto the couch, and there was a very obvious and very loud moan from behind him. Blood raced into Hank's cheeks.

There was a long pause as the moan behind him washed over Hank's body and very obviously through the other end of the phone, making the hair on his arms stand on end.

It wasn't that he wasn't… happy, that Connor finally got his wish and could feel in a way that humans could, probably, but there was something off about it. It was too fuckin' strong, for a start. Hank didn't think it should be such powerful sensation, and why the fuck there was even a slider-bar to control the strength of it at all anyway? What was the purpose of that - if not for fucking?

It was- weird. And he hated the idea that Kamski of all people was the one who made it that way. He knew he couldn't trust him.

"... Lieutenant?" Kamski asked, amused, "... Is everything alright?"

Hank gritted his teeth, "Yeah. Fine. We're all fuckin' fine. Now do you want to explain what you did to Connor, and why he's walking around like he's high as shit?"

There was a long, long pause. Hank threw his eye over his shoulder to see Connor lengthways on the couch, hugging the closest cushion he could reach and twisting the corners between his fingers.

"I see…" Kamski said, choked like he was trying to hide laughter, "Connor approached me yesterday with an issue in his programming, so I gave him an external device to test and rectify it. Is there…" and Hank saw red when he heard the briefest snort, "... is there a bug?"

"Are you serious?" Hank yelled, his face getting hot, "You better hope you have a fix for th-"

There was another loud moan behind him, and a whump as Connor flung the cushion to the floor as Sumo took his prone position as a welcome invitation, and climbed up on the couch, draping himself over Connor's torso for the type of cuddle he usually got when Hank fell asleep on the couch. And Connor's moan of; "Oh… Sumo~!" made his blood race.

He placed his hand over the receiver and turned to yell over his shoulder, "Hey, give it a break! Sumo! Get off - get off Connor right now!"

There was a whine and a huff as Sumo followed the command and sadly climbed off the couch.

He took a steady, calming breath before bringing the phone back to his ear. "... Anyway," he said, clearing his throat, "like I said. Fix. It."

Kamski's reply was easy, airy, "Of course, Lieutenant. Let me just pull up my notes, here."

Hank drummed his fingers on the counter as he waited, listening to Kamski hum occasionally through the receiver like he was looking for something, or at least making a show of looking for something. Could he see through Connor's eyes what happened the previous night? That was a pretty unwelcome thought. He hoped not, considering the crazy laws around people being recorded in their own homes by their androids, the recordings of which could only be accessed under extremely specific circumstances. Still, what if Kamski could…?

"Ah," Kamski finally said, "I can see what went wrong here."

Hank was suspicious, "Oh yeah?"

Kamski hummed, "Appears I set the tactile receiver strength too high for Connor's particular model. The RK800 is a magnificent build; agile, powerful, intelligent, and with some of the most accurate sensors of any android out in the world."

Hank's mouth thinned. Jack-off to him in your own damn time, he thought, and stop wasting mine.

"Ergo, his receiver strength needs to be set at a much lower value," he continued, "at say, a two instead of two-hundred, which it is currently sitting at. Silly me, I must have… placed a decimal incorrectly."

Two-hundred?! Out of fucking two?

There was no way he didn't notice that! The guy was a damn sociopath!

Hank made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, and his threatening silence was enough for Kamski to continue with a solution, "... You said you wish for this to be fixed, and presumably Connor does as well, if he wants to be… coherent."

Oh fuck you, Kamski!

"I will rectify this now," he said calmly, "you should receive the replacement device by drone in a few hours."

"Yeah," Hank said, clenching his fist to try and will the rage down, "great. Real helpful."

"And… Lieutenant?"

"What?" He snapped.

"Feel free to keep the old device if you wish," and he could nearly hear the smirk in Kamski's voice, "just in case you or Connor wish to test it further."

Hank nearly flung his phone across the room, a wash of shame and serious, serious arousal overtaking him. He was equal parts disgusted and delighted - that Kamski was even talking about it, and that he could keep the device that made Connor come so many times he nearly went on fire.

So they could both kind of have what they wanted. Hurray.

"Well that's real kind of you, Mr. Kamski," he deadpanned down the phone, "guess I should expect that device soon, hopefully without any further bugs. Am I right?"

"Oh, absolutely," was the drawling reply, "and please pass on my apologies to Connor for the mistake. Is there anything else you need, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah. Touch my android again, and I'll break your fingers. Watch your windows, Kamski." And with that he pressed the end call button with such force that the touch-screen went static under his thumb. It wasn't fucking smart to make enemies with a high-ranking member of law-enforcement, especially not one on fairly good terms with the android population for his minor role in the uprising… but he supposed it probably wasn't good for him to make an enemy out of Elijah Kamski, either.

Still… the thought that he tried to take advantage of Connor like that… Hank felt like driving to the guy's house and kicking the crap out of him.

But then he'd probably have to fight his army of Chloes. Hank shivered.

Connor was still pressing every inch of himself against the couch that he possibly could, clutching the last cushion to his chest and gripping two corners, frowning as Hank approached from the kitchen.

"Was that you threatening Kamski?" He asked, strained, his eyes hooded when Hank reached down to pull the cushion away.

"Yeah," Hank sat down on the edge of the couch, looking down at him, "but I did manage to get him to send you a replacement device. Hopefully not one as crazy strong this time."

His stomach did a flip when he thought that the other one would still work. For… reasons. Maybe he should go and get it.

"I may have asked a friend in Jericho to help, as well. Or… more like she bullied me to take the help."

"Oh?" Hank grinned when he placed his palm feather light on Connor's bare stomach, and the android moaned and clutched Hank's arm, "Thought you said you didn't trust those guys?"

"Better than… mmm, better than Kamski, I guess. North gave out to me, when I told her."

"Hn. That the fiery one? With the brown hair, kissing Markus on TV?"

"Yes," and there was another, deeper moan as Hank smoothed his palm up his chest to graze off a nipple.

He still couldn't believe the night they had. Or… mid-afternoon he guessed. He was lucky they didn't break the couch. Hank was lucky he didn't break his damn back, but he was definitely feeling it. He ached all over, in the best possible way. Why he was teasing his partner though, he wasn't sure, because there was no way he could fuck him again. But he… liked the intimacy he guessed.

There was something to the way Connor reacted to his touch.

There was something to the fact that it was Connor.

And that it had been a long time for Hank.

"Did you…. nnh~, did you call me… 'your android'... to Kamski…?" The android asked, arching up slightly against his hand.

The realisation dawned on him, and he went to move his hand away, "Yeah I… I guess I did. Huh."

Connor pulled his hand back, and pressed it against his cheek. His eyes were warm and sooty when he looked up at Hank through his eyelashes. "Did you mean it?"

Hank sighed, "Hey look, you're your own person, Connor. I didn't mean it like that."

But his eyes were warm and unwavering with Hank's hand on his face. Yeah, Connor didn't belong to anyone - autonomy, remember? But in the afternoon sun, with Connor looking up at him like that, with him leaning up to his touch and the softness in his eyes…

Maybe putting some sort of label on it wasn't a bad idea. Mine might not have been the best one, regrettably. But…

He'd have to give him a better one.

When they were both ready to have that conversation.

"... Do you want to take this somewhere else?" Connor asked, pressing a kiss against the edge of his thumb.

When Hank's heart sped up, his back however did not agree. "You know I do, but…-"

"But?"

"But I'm an old man with a bad back?"

Connor snorted, and it was a sound he'd never heard him make before. "Your partner is an android. I have extensive knowledge of human anatomy, and an entire library dedicated to muscular-skeletal treatment including shiatsu and acupressure. Let me at least give you a massage."

Partner, huh?

Hank scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, a flush racing up his neck. He wasn't used to receiving things like… massages. But he thought about the android's hands on him, of him being on his back, maybe Connor getting on top of him… hmm.

"Alright…" he relented quietly, and then an even quieter, "... partner."