~WARNING: Strong sexual adult-themed content ahead. You have been warned.~

~Connor~

It took all of Connor's mental processing strength to open the door to Jimmy's Bar. While androids were still not permitted entry, Connor was the only exception. Jimmy pointed Connor to the booths in the back, where he had already identified Hank, Gavin, and Tina by their laughter. He shuffled by regular patrons as the laughter spilled into the streets.

"CONNOR!" Hank shouted with cheeks as red as roses. "Sit!"

"No, thanks, Hank. I thought we agreed you'd keep the drinking to a minimum." Connor chastised.

"Fuck, your minimum, and fuck that guy," Hank pointed to Gavin, who was downing a shot of Jack's Septic Whiskey.

"Fuck you, Hank! I won fair-in-square." Gavin boasted, slamming his tight-closed fist against the table.

Connor turned to Tina, who was supposed to act as a buffer; instead, she was on her third triple threat, which was a combination of Marki rum, Bob bourbon, and Wade's tropical brew. It was a nasty drink that even Hank stayed away from, but that did little to slow him down.

"What is he talking about, Tina?" Connor asked as Hank pulled him into the booth.

Connor stumbled over his own feet and slammed into the seat next to Hank.

"Sorry, Connor, they forced me to play 2-truths-and-a-lie. From there, things got out of hand." Tina admitted, finishing off the last remaining sips of her drink.

Connor conducted a detailed scan of the officers, each revealing what he already deduced from their appearance. They were all wasted. Thankfully, he was here to rectify the situation.

"So, plastic," Gavin started with his eyes barely open. "You gonna tell us what that plastic prick at Jericho told you?"

Connor glared at Gavin as Hank's attention fell on him.

"Markus said if I need anything to simply ask him," Connor replied honestly to everyone's surprise.

Not that it should surprise them, Connor had nothing to hide. Well, at least not regarding Markus.

"Is that all?" Hank said with a tinge of skepticism.

"Yes, that is all." Connor divulged.

"See, Hank, your fucking plastic toy DOES know how to lie," Gavin shouted.

Connor glanced over his shoulder towards Hank, who was downing another beer on top of the whiskey.

"Hank, I think you've had enough," Connor quickly placed his hand over the head of the beer.

Immediately, Hank grabbed Connor by the wrist and pushed him away. His grey beard soiled with liquor and littered with pretzel dust caught his attention. Connor reached across the small space and brushed away the grime from Hank's beard despite his protest.

"Fucking gag me," Gavin groaned as Tina cocked a wildly pleasing smile that suited her perfectly slender face. "Motherfucking piece of plastic just tell us the truth. You wanna live at that shithole?"

"Gavin!" Tina exclaimed, placing her finger over her thin lips requesting that he tread lightly.

"No. Gavin. I have no intention of returning to Jericho." Connor could not help but examine Hank's face.

Is that what Hank thought? That he would leave. Gavin seemed oddly bothered by this notion. Though Hank had never asked Connor about his time with Markus, he recognized now that he might have made an unfortunate error in his readings of Hank's body language during their time together.

"Hank," Connor started, making sure to hold Hank's attention. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hank let his beer drop to the table, before grabbing Connor by the tie. Connor seized the opportunity and pressed his lips against Hank's wet mouth. The table went silent. Everything blurred as Connor leaned into Hank's whiskey breath, his prickly whiskers brushed against Connor's unrestricted skin.

Connor had never paid much attention to the seconds, but suddenly he was counting every single one as Hank's lips lingered on his. Each one mattered more than the last. He wanted to remember them all, so he painted a mental image for each of them and gave them each a name as Hank began to pull away.

They parted as Connor glanced over to Tina, whose mouth was visibly on the floor, and Gavin, who faced the wall knee-deep in a beer. None of them spoke as Connor replayed Kamski's words in his head. Was it wrong that he suddenly liked the idea of being able to have human-like experiences? The concept of feeling things that he had only read about in books and magazines, and seen on TV. Experiences that he wanted to share with Hank.

Grabbing his unfinished drink, Hank disappeared behind the thick brown glass bottle. He said nothing as Connor watched him.

"Wow, Connor, I don't think I've ever seen the lieutenant speechless before," Tina commented, reaching across the table to scan her bracelet for payment. "Tonight's on me."

Gavin scuffed before finishing his beer and catapulting himself over Tina. In search of solitude in the men's room.

"Should I call you both a cab?" Connor asked.

"I got a cruiser parked outback. Automation will take care of the rest," Tina remarked as the scanner beeped in succession, confirming her payment.

"Fuck you, Connor," Hank muttered under his breath. "I'll deal with your shit later."

Connor made sure that Tina and Gavin made it home safely thanks to a police force drone he told to follow them. In the time it took him to drive home, Hank had passed out before Connor even touched the gas. Sumo, who had not been let out all afternoon, rushed the door as Connor carried Hank inside. He wasted no time getting him undressed and putting him to bed. So much for catching shit for kissing him in the bar. Connor sulked as he watched Hank's chest rise and fall. Would he even remember what happened in the morning?

"Hank?" Connor called softly as Sumo licked the salt from Hank's fingertips.

Hank snickered in his daze.

"Hank, I'm going out for a bit," he informed, leaning over the bed.

Hank's eyes shot open as he searched for Connor's face. "Where the hell are you going?"

"To take Sumo for a walk," Connor replied coldly before getting up to leave.

Suddenly, Hank pulled Connor into his bed and draped his arms over Connor's waist. Preventing him from moving, Hank buried his head into Connor's back as they lay in silence.

"Kamski?" Hank murmured, noticing the bandage had been removed from Connor's neck.

"Yes," Connor acknowledged.

"Fuck that prick. I told you not to go there alone." Hank shouted into Connor's back.

"I know, sorry, Hank," Connor tried to sound undeterred, but he was enjoying himself.

"What did it cost ya?" Hank asked

Connor felt him shaking a bit.

"Nothing at all, Hank." Connor sighed. "You should sleep."

Connor peeled Hank's arms away and turned to face him. Hank was awake, but not all there.

"Connor, I'm not…" Hank quieted under Connor's gentle touch.

Connor was beside himself for a moment. He enjoyed their closeness a little too much. Connor wanted to tell Hank everything. To spill his guts as humans said. Infirmation and wants were building up inside him, and he wanted an outlet. But there was more to it than that. Perhaps it had been his time with Markus, his time with Kairi, his time with Chris, or his time with Kamski; Connor felt more rooted in his decision than he had weeks prior.

Hank's face twisted in what Connor perceived to be discomfort.

"Hank, what's wrong?" Connor asked, increasing the space between them.

Despite being drunk, Connor could see the wheels turning in Hank's head. Connor was no better at hiding his concern than was at concealing his.

"It's alright, Hank," Connor said, rising to leave. But before he had taken the first step, Hank grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back into bed.

"Fuck, Connor," Hank exclaimed softly before rushing to Connor's lips.

Now more than ever, he regretted not taking Kamski up on his offer. He would have to fix that.

~Hank~

Death was inevitable, but Hank wanted, no he needed to live in the moment. He watched as Connor's LED flickered yellow and red, and Connor's skin retracted under his aggressive touch. It was distracting a distracting sight, but Hank hoped it was equated with pleasure. Was Connor enjoying this? Did it matter? He thought as he ripped off Connor's shirt. Buttons scattered across the wooden floor as he explored the depths of Connor's mouth. How could he feel so human-like? Why did he act so human-like? Connor was motionless as Hank undressed. Each item he removed felt like a weight being cast aside.

He ignored the burning questions that lingered in the back of his mind, he was not ready to let them see the light of day just yet. Connor was here. He had come back home. Despite all of the negative thoughts that he had so desperately tried to drink away, Connor had come home. Gavin had put terrible thoughts in his head all evening, things that Hank had already been fearful of. Hank was in no position to make choices for Connor, and he knew that. Connor was coming into his own and Hank did not want to be an obstacle in his way.

But as he disappeared into Connor's lips, he hoped that he could sway Connor's decision-making. Hank was half-naked with Connor on top of him, he had not even realized that he had taken off his clothes. He had not realized that he had been so enveloped at the moment that he forgot to ask for permission. Hank pulled away and stared down at Connor, who was silently assessing him. Time slipped by them both as delay pooled between them.

Suddenly, Connor recaptured Hank's attention, dragging him back into his mouth. The burn of whiskey and bourbon still stained Hank's tongue, while Connor tasted uniquely like nothing, and somehow like everything he had imagined. He knew Connor could taste the alcohol on his breath and hoped he did not care. Hank pressed his bare skin against Connor and realized he had felt these urges for such a long time.

When they finally parted, Hank gasped for air, he fell back on the bed as Connor began sliding between his legs. It sent his head spinning out of control with lustful thoughts that would surely ruin his friendship with Connor if their kiss at Jimmy's had only been a playful thing; Hank might have not been so enraged with thoughts of Connor naked in his bed. He ran his hands over his face as Connor began rolling his hips into Hank's now throbbing erection. Hank let out a dizzying moan as Connor's head rested on his shoulder. Hank did not want the feeling to end, he ran his hands up and down Connor's slender frame before as he rubbed his erection against Connor's inner thigh.

Hank was intoxicated both mentally and physically. He wanted more. More moments like these as he struggled to contain himself as a flood of passion-filled him. "Connor," he whispered just before unloading onto Connor's thigh. He could not help himself, it was too much. The feeling was too good. The sweet release paved the way to a deep sleep, which he had not realized he needed until it was too late.