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It all started with a simple comment from Hank.

“Hey. Connor.” Connor glances up from the case file in front of him at the Lieutenant studying him closely. “I thought you didn’t eat?”

The android pauses momentarily before realizing what he was referring to. He pulls the cherry sucker out of his mouth, examining it with a frown as if he hadn’t noticed it until now. “Androids don’t need to eat— we don’t have nutritional needs or hunger, but most of us technically can. For cosmetic reasons, mostly.” Hank crosses his arms, gaze still fixed skeptically on him, and Connor realizes that he was searching for a different answer.

Connor takes in a deep breath, preparing himself for the (affectionate, indisputably paternal)  teasing he‘s about to receive. “Markus—“ and there it is, the shit-eating grin that spreads across Hank’s face every time Markus comes up in conversation, simultaneously proud and amused. Connor shoots him an annoyed look, which only causes him to fall into a short fit of laughter.

“As I was saying, Markus started offering them to me a while back.” He pauses, LED blinking yellow as he looks down at the desk. “I guess I appreciate the gesture? It’s... nice,” he murmurs, low and thoughtful.

Hank’s smirk relaxes into a fond smile as he listens to him speak. He hoists himself out of his chair, stretching wide and attempting to shake the fatigue off of him. “Gonna go get a coffee. These long fuckin' shifts...”

Hanks stops beside Connor, pausing momentarily. “I’m happy for you, son,” he says, firmly clasping him on the shoulder before continuing his trek to the break room.

Connor stares at the other man as he leaves, smiling softly as he feels warmth and happiness bloom in his chest.

He’s happy too.




The door silently slides shut as Connor steps into the apartment hallway. His internal clock reads 4:38 A.M.— late, but unfortunately common due to DPD’s erratic shift scheduling. He toes his shoes off and leaves them neatly by the door before quietly, carefully making his way into Markus’s apartment.

Their apartment.

He still feels a light fluttering of feelings in his chest whenever he remembers that yes, he is in a relationship with Markus, they do live together, and this beautiful, kind, amazing man truly loves him.

Connor had moved in barely a month ago, but it felt like he had always been there. They were taking the relationship slow— there wasn’t much of a choice, really, with Markus being a worldwide symbol of liberation and Connor’s overwhelming workload at the DPD— but everything felt... right, somehow. They’re there for each other, a pillar of support in their hectic lives, and he’s noticed how much Markus is helping him learn how to just be. To allow himself to feel emotions, love, hurt; to forgive himself for his mistakes and grow from them.

He has some difficulty processing and understanding his feelings still, but he knows without a doubt that he loves Markus, so, so much.

Connor can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as he seats himself on one of the kitchen chairs, lost in thought yet perfectly at ease. His eyelids slowly close as he leans further back in his seat with a content sigh. Diagnostic checks fill the black expanse of his vision, his system checking and double checking his hardware. He drifts off to sleep, as close to sleep as androids get, mind blissfully clear of the worry and stress of the day.

“You’re avoiding me now, huh?” Connor’s eyes drowsily open to his boyfriend’s soft, teasing voice in his ear and his arms around his waist. He stretches tiredly, suppressing a yawn before leaning back into his gentle hold.

“Didn’t want to interrupt you,” he mumbles as he traces lazy circles on the other android’s arm. Markus chuckles, low and warm and god, Connor loves him so much.

“I’d be more than happy to be interrupted, as long as it’s you.” He lifts up a hand to run through Connor’s still-neat hair, ruffling it to his liking before pressing a kiss there.

Connor lets out a pleased hum, leaning into his touch and allowing himself to fully relax again. They remain there awhile, the calm silence a sharp contrast to their turbulent lives.

His gaze lazily drifts around the room before landing on the glass bowl of suckers on the kitchen island. “Markus,” he says quietly, tugging gently on the sleeve of his shirt. The man in question replies with a slightly muffled hm? , face buried in Connor’s soft (and now ruined) hair.

“Why did you buy those for me?” Lifting his head up, Markus follows his gesture to the bowl on the counter.

“It seemed like something you’d like,” he says simply. “I noticed that you chew on pens, pencils, or whatever you could find whenever you focus on something.” Markus pauses, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Also, you... Well, you’re always licking everything you find, so—“

“It’s analysis,” Connor interjects, feeling heat and embarrassment and something else crash over him like a tidal wave. “I don’t just— just go around licking things, Markus!”

He might be being a little too defensive.

Suppressing his laughter, Markus ran his hands through his hair, pressing another kiss there. “I know, babe—“ Connor’s LED flares yellow and his body goes tense at the use of the pet name, “I didn’t mean to offend.” He pauses the gentle ministrations to glance down at his partner. “You liked the suckers though, right?”

“Maybe.”




In all honesty, Markus was right.

Although he didn’t notice until now, Connor really enjoys the suckers— more than he’s comfortable admitting.

It turns out that he might have a very, very minor... fixation. He likes the movement, the way things feel against his tongue. Cyberlife absolutely did not intend for this state-of-the-art technology to be used on candy suckers, but, well, he supposes that’s the point of deviancy.

Normally, Connor would leave it at that. He has a strange habit, no worse than the coin tricks he’s done since he was activated, but that’s all.

His mind wanders, though.

Connor and Markus are still taking their relationship slow, which isn’t a problem, but his thoughts start moving to more intimate things. He obviously knows about sex, knows what he’s feeling and knows the technicalities, but before now he had never considered actually... doing any of it. And now, that’s slowly becoming all he can think about.

He wants . He wants to know what Markus looks, sounds, feels like when he’s coming undone, wants to memorize every sound and movement he makes, wants to be the thing that pushes him over the edge. He wants to feel, taste the other man under his tongue, memorizing every movement he likes. He wants and he wants and he wants until eventually, he can’t handle it anymore.

The two of them are tangled on the living room couch, Connor straddling Markus’s hips as he fervently presses kisses to every inch of skin he can reach— across his jaw, down his neck, to the juncture between his collar and shoulder. He’s soaking in every noise he draws out of Markus, relishing in the way his hands (broad, strong, yet velvet-soft) grasp at his hips when his mouth trails over a sensitive spot. “Connor, fuck, babe —“

That was the final push that broke his willpower.

Leaning back just enough to see his lover clearly, Connor’s breath halts. Mismatched eyes stare back at him, half-lidded and reflecting everything that Connor feels and more. He has dark bruises trailing down his neck, bruises that Markus could easily heal over but instead remain as a visible mark that this is real, this is happening .

“Can I suck you off?”

The words tumble out of his mouth, crude and rushed and full of the desperation that’s been building up in him since the very first time he saw Markus.

Markus freezes, eyes wide and mouth agape and was this a mistake, did he just ruin it all, did he—

Please,” he says, voice low and rough and dripping with need.

Connor gets to work immediately, pressing one last kiss to his lips before dropping down to kneel between his legs. Quick hands undid his jeans and almost reverently slid them off, stopping momentarily to admire the soft, toned thighs underneath. “Have you ever done anything like... this, before?” Markus asks as he watches the other work.

“No,” he pauses, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Have you?”

Markus bites his lip, averting his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, I mean... yeah? Once, by myself.”

“Tell me about it.” His gaze snaps back down to Connor but the other android is back to methodically trailing rough kisses up each of his thighs. He stops his ministrations when Markus doesn’t reply and looks back up at him. “Please,” he murmurs, his lips almost touching his clothed cock.

Markus shudders, reaching a hand down to run through his mussed hair. “It wasn’t long after you moved in. I... You had changed in my room earlier, and you looked so—“ His voice was cut off by a low groan as Connor ran his tongue over his head, still covered by fabric. “You were... Are so, so beautiful, Connor, fuck—“

He pulls back slightly, only enough to slip his briefs down past his knees. Brown eyes meet blue and green as he wraps a hand around him, moving in slow, languid strokes. “What were you thinking of?” Connor hardly recognized his own voice, rough and almost animalistic with want.

You , your hands, your mouth, your— your tongue, fuck, god, Connor, just like that—“ Markus inhales sharply as he ran his tongue from the base of his shaft to his tip at an agonizingly slow pace. “Feels so good, you’re— god, you’re amazing.”

Connor shudders at the other’s words. Hearing Markus unraveling, voice aching with need, sent his nerves into a frenzy, and he wants more . He locks eyes with him before opening his mouth and taking him in, struggling to keep his movements slow.

It felt like his senses were short-circuiting— every movement and taste was a shock to his system as he swirls his tongue around him. Connor could feel the tight fabric of his slacks straining against his erection but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He focuses on the taste in his mouth, the hands restlessly tugging on his hair, the unrestrained words spilling from his lover’s lips.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Connor takes Markus entirely into his mouth, swallowing around him until his nose brushed against his pelvis. “Connor, Connor , I can’t— fuck, babe, I’m close, I...”

Connor lets out a muffled groan, quickening his pace until Markus is bucking his hips up to meet him. It feels like his entire mind goes blank for a moment, burning hot light that overpowers his entire system. When he comes to Markus is breathing hard, hands going slack to rest on the back of his neck.

“That was... Amazing.” Markus lets out a breathy laugh, tired and spent and happy . He takes in a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh before looking down at him.

“Can I, uh... Return the favor?” Connor feels heat rush through him again as he nods shakily, but as he moves to climb up onto the couch, he feels something .

Glancing down, he sees a wet patch spread across the front of his slacks. The realization hits both of them at the same time.

“Oh.”

“I think I already...” He trails off,  Markus smiling sheepishly.

“That’s kind of cute,” he murmurs. “Should I be flattered?”

“Maybe.” Connor smiles back at him as he feels his system slowly calm down, leaving behind a warm afterglow. “I think I need some clean clothes, though.”

-

After one last system check, Connor finally lets himself relax into his boyfriend’s arms. He’s okay— hell, he’s happy , genuinely happy, for the first time in a while. He traces miscellaneous shapes on to Markus’s ribs, the words I love you, I love you, I love you repeating in his mind like a mantra.

I love you, so, so much , he thinks, and he knows he could never truly express how he feels within words, paragraphs, novels— so he settles for the alternative.

Connor brings his hand up to his lover’s face and feels the artificial skin of his fingertips dissipate to caress the soft planes of his cheek.

For a moment, they connect. Connor worries his emotions won’t translate, that his rapid-fire thoughts are unintelligible to someone so... so complex, deep, passionate, amazing as Markus.

His anxiety occupies his thoughts until it’s interrupted by the feeling of a soft, gentle kiss pressed to his forehead.

I love you too, Connor .