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Solicited

Summary:

Hank looks for Connor and finds him bonding with Gavin and some of the other officers at the precinct.

Notes:

Horny Connor is life <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Hank Anderson stared down the terminal at his desk. The information he'd been waiting for had arrived, and now he had a lead that might finally help them crack the case. If only they could be so lucky. 

He was ready for this deviant business to be over. The longer they worked it the more torn Hank felt, uncertain whether to do the right thing or to help Connor with his investigation. After all, the kid's fate was at least partially in his hands. And Connor was always making matters more confusing by treating Hank with the utmost respect (if a little cheeky on occasion) and with endless patience. Hank hadn't had anyone in years look at him the way Connor did. It twisted him up all bad inside with guilt, for how unabashedly mean he had treated him initially. The kid clearly wanted to gain Hank’s approval, even if it impeded his mission, and well…Hank wanted to try to do better by him.

So instead of waiting for Connor to take the initiative with regards to the case, he would. He was sober, his back wasn’t sore, and he was feeling fresh considering his age and alcoholic tendencies. He’d prove to Connor that he wasn’t a total sad sack, that there was a reason he’d made the rank of Lieutenant.

He made a call and set up a meeting for later, and went to go find Connor. Last he knew, the kid went down to the archives to look at some of the evidence they’d collected. Probably already connected the strings and figured out where the deviants’ hideout was, Hank thought with a strange sort of fondness. Secondhand pride, he supposed, though that didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t like he had any part in what Connor was, he shouldn’t feel pride over a machine doing the job it was made to carry out. Hank liked to think maybe he was shaping the android, anyhow, in ways they couldn't see yet.

The door to the archives opened under his hand scan. Immediately upon entering the staircase his instincts kicked in and his hackles raised. Strange noises echoed from below. Human noises, that Connor would never make. Grunting, heaving breaths, the smack of flesh colliding. 

Shit. Shit. Hank felt for the gun tucked into his holster, but didn’t draw it yet. If Connor was being assaulted by some anti-android asshole cop, Hank was confident Connor could take care of himself. Nevertheless he kept his steps light as he neared the bottom of the stairs -- hoping to keep the element of surprise on his side -- but when the evidence locker finally came into view, he realized he had it all wrong.

Connor was not under attack. 

He was deepthroating Gavin Reed like his life depended on it. Or like he was a Traci, designed for taking cock. But Connor was not made for taking cock; his jaw was stretched wide over the length, his throat bulging with Reed's jerky thrusts. Hank froze in shock. He didn’t dare move and draw attention to himself.

And it wasn’t just Reed and Connor. Two other officers and a detective from Vice formed a loose circle around the android, their trousers pushed below their groins to expose their swollen cocks. They passively touched themselves and Connor, one mumbling under their breath in a filthy tone words Hank couldn't make out. 

Connor’s own clothing had been disturbed; his tie was loosened and buttons popped, revealing the smooth flawless column of throat and the sharp jut of his collarbones. His belt was unfastened and jeans unzipped, the fabric bunched around his waist as he knelt before the detective. Hank couldn’t stop his gaze from landing on Connor’s crotch, but he couldn't tell if there was a dick there -- too many shadows for him to get a good look.

But despite the absurdity of the situation, Connor appeared to be willing, even when another officer leaned forward to wipe the fluid from the slit of his cock against Connor’s pretty cheek. Sullying it. 

A protective anger boiled Hank’s blood and his face flushed hot. These men, who didn’t even think of Connor as a person, were jerking off to the sight of him sucking dick. His partner. Connor probably had no idea what he was really doing, letting these men use him like this. He probably thought it would improve their opinion of him and his usefulness as an android, but Hank knew all it would do was make them hate him more. Now they’d look at Connor and see a plastic fucktoy instead of the extremely capable and dependable detective Hank knew him to be.

It pissed him off.

(It turned him on, too, if the throbbing in his jeans and deep shame suffocating his chest meant anything.)

It pissed him off more because he knew he wasn’t all that different from Reed and the others. How many times had Hank sneaked a peek at Connor’s tight little rear when he bent over? Or tried to pass off his own arousal as disgust whenever he caught Connor licking evidence off his fingers? He had no real room to judge, but all the same he wanted to throw his coat over the obscene faces Connor was making and hide him away from the other officers’ depraved gazes.

No one down in the evidence room appeared to have noticed Hank’s arrival, hidden as he was in the dark staircase and with all but one of the overhead lights turned off. They must have cornered Connor before he could sign in and pull out the evidence he was going to sift through. It seemed unusual for Connor to let himself be distracted from his mission, but the way he grasped for the other officers’ erections while burying his nose in Gavin’s pubic hairs was done with precise, purposeful motions. There were no guns pressed to his head, threatening him, and Connor wasn’t one to be bossed around even if there were.

Which meant that, yep -- he was willingly choking on Reed’s dick. 

Hank shouldn’t have come down here. He shouldn’t have watched even this much. He should've turned around and tiptoed his way back upstairs and waited at his desk until Connor came to find him, and never ever mention this. Ever. Technically it would be within his rights to break up this scene -- here were two detectives and two uniformed officers of the law doing...unholy things to Cyberlife property. That had to be against a regulation. But Hank didn’t do anything. He was stuck where he was, driven by some deep-seated curiosity to see what Connor was going to do next. 

His perverted thoughts were interrupted by Reed fisting a hand in Connor’s impeccably coiffed hair and pulling him off his meat, shiny and wet with Connor’s strange saliva substitute. Connor gasped wetly, even though he didn't need to. Reed held him close to his tip and began to stroke his own cock in a furious, brutal pace.

"They knew they were gonna send you to work with a bunch of burly, macho cops,” Reed rasped, breath coming in quick bursts, “and made you as much of an eager little twink as they possibly could, isn't that right? You were made to be our bitch."

Hank could see Connor's light spin round and round at that, the only sign so far that maybe Connor wasn’t totally into this, though that was probably only wishful thinking on Hank’s part -- it was more likely Connor was simply running a search on the word ‘twink’. Supported by the fact that he then angled his face up, canting his hips slightly, moaning softly at the words. Making a noise Hank didn’t know he was capable of, like what Gavin said was actually doing something to him. But it couldn’t…right?

"I was designed to appear trustworthy and non-threatening,” Connor answered plainly in the same tone he used for everything, his voice not even raw despite the dick he had crammed down it seconds ago. “Which might have the unintended side effect of being desirable to sexually aggressive males."

"Oh yeah?" Gavin sneered, the smile on his face shadowed with loathing, though Hank couldn't tell if it was for himself and his desire for an android, or simply for Connor specifically. 

"You should know, however, that I'm only required to obey Lieutenant Anderson," Connor added, brows lifted in his haughty way. Then he slowly turned his head to look Hank straight in the eyes.

Fuck . Hank held his breath. 

Reed was unnaturally subdued in his reaction. The hand in Connor’s hair fisted and tipped his head back so his neck was to such a degree to be uncomfortable for a human, and Reed paused rubbing his cock long enough to glance at Hank before returning his attention to Connor’s pink little blowjob lips. Of course, Reed had been getting his knob gobbled moments ago, and what was another set of eyes among a gangbang of five?  Hank was sure Reed would have something to say about this at another time, but he was silent for the moment. Being on the verge of orgasm deprioritized a lot. 

The other officers stopped or slowed their own jerking when they finally took their eyes off Connor long enough to realize Hank was there. No one said anything. Connor lifted a hand to Reed’s shaft, but halted just before touching. He tilted his head down coyly, and peered up at Hank through his lashes. Like he was waiting for his orders. Like it was of no concern to him that Reed was beating his dick so hard it looked like it’d fall off, if Hank said to stop he'd stop. The only thing that mattered was what pleased him.

Hank’s cock gave a very interested twitch in his pants, where it pressed swollen and thick against the zipper. A rush of heat warmed him from within, making the hairs at the back of his neck grow damp with anticipation. Fuck it, he’d let Connor have it. Hank wasn't strong enough to deny him anything when he looked at him like that. If Connor needed Hank to give him permission for his peace of mind, he'd play along.  

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the staircase, trying to ignore the other officers. He looked only at Connor, and tried to seem unbothered when he answered:

“It’s rude to leave a guy hanging like that.”

If Hank could take back his early words about Connor’s design, he would -- because fuck, Cyberlife got it right. Connor was indeed designed to work harmoniously with humans, and he was showing off just how far that definition could be stretched. Connor impaled his face around Reed’s cock almost at once, taking him all the way to the root, his eyes still glued to Hank’s shadowed form. They then dropped down, narrowing in on the stiffy tenting Hank’s pants. Connor hummed, letting Reed move him back and forth on his cock, fucking his goofy, beautiful face as Connor reached for and pawed at the other officers' cocks. 

Knowing him, Connor was probably calculating Reed’s BPM through his dick.

Reed reached the edge and crashed over with a half-choked groan, pulling out of Connor’s mouth part way to finish coming on his face. Connor left his mouth open, tongue slightly lolling out as he received perhaps the first facial in his existence. Hank shouldn’t have found that so fucking hot but he did, and he carefully pressed a palm along his length, trying not to look too desperate or to bust in his pants like a preteen.

Besides, Connor wasn’t done yet. As soon as the last droplets of Reed’s jizz splattered on his face, Connor swallowed down what was on his tongue and moved his attention to the dark blood-thick cock on his left. He sucked him down to the base too, and the remaining two officers shuffled closer to Connor to take their places on either side of him, waiting their turn. 

Connor worked efficiently. He was at his core a machine; he was designed for efficiency. Even if it was a task he was not programmed for, he would certainly find the most efficient manner of doing whatever it was. It was no surprise how Connor moved from cock to cock, sucking each one enough to keep them sloppy and slick, replacing the one not currently in his mouth with a hand, alternating as he went. No cock went neglected for too long. Hank could tell from the subtle shift in hand placements that Connor was picking up discrepancies between the three men’s preferences, and how they liked to be touched, and adjusting his movements to accommodate them. All with the aim of achieving the quickest, most satisfying release. 

Hank pressed his palm down harder, trying not to just whip himself out of his pants and jack off openly. He might be a terrible perverted old man, but he still had lines he wouldn’t cross. Somewhere, maybe. He just knew he didn’t want to blow his load like this, when there was so much left to see. 

But it was so hard, literally, with Connor glancing up at Hank every few seconds, with that eager-to-please shine in his pretty brown eyes. Even with his hair ruffled and cum congealing on his face and his beautiful throat begging to be bit, he still somehow looked completely composed. Laser focused on accomplishing his task. Which Hank could only guess had something to do with gaining his approval, fuck if he understood that though. The kid’s reasoning for doing things were really just flimsy attempts to hide the fact that he wanted things at all, because he wasn’t supposed to. But Hank saw the excuses for what they were. Connor wanted to blow a bunch of cops. Connor wanted Hank to watch him do it. Connor probably told himself it was to increase their bond or some shit.

Whatever bullshit reason Connor came up with, Hank was glad he got to witness this.

The other officers managed to endure Connor’s talented mouth for only a minute longer before the first of the three was spurting white onto Connor’s profile. Connor made a muffled noise from somewhere inside, coaxing the rest of the spend out by gently massaging the officer’s balls. It was almost too much for Hank. It was apparently too much for the one fucking Connor’s mouth, who pressed Connor’s face flat against him and held him there, bowing over with a sigh. The last one finished in Connor’s hand and all over his neck seconds later. 

Connor was a mess. His face was drenched in spunk, clumps of it stuck to his hair, dripping onto his shirt. It was the single hottest thing Hank's ever seen. Globs of it were flecked across Connor's gorgeous cheekbones, painting his supple, shapely lips, and covering his blue LED, running down the elegant ridge of his eyebrows. His throat, working hard as he swallowed what ejaculate made it into his mouth. Probably analyzing it, separating out the different strands of DNA. Hank wondered if he could tell them apart by taste. He wondered where it all went, if there was a pouch somewhere inside his plastic body now full of cop jizz--

Hank squeezed his eyes shut, barely holding back a moan.

The officers started to tuck themselves away, the sudden clarity of orgasm giving way to a sense of shame that made the air feel heavy. They looked everywhere but at each other. Not even Reed had anything to say. Hank wasn’t sure what to do. He slowly moved away from the stairs, allowing ample room for the officers to move on by and leave the evidence locker one by one. Reed was the last to leave, seemingly deriving just as much enjoyment from watching Connor be debauched as he was in his own release. He bent to smear a finger through the spend on Connor’s cheek, spreading it across the android’s pliant lips, before leaving with a smirk.

Then it was just Hank. 

And Connor, kneeling on the floor in his Cyberlife suit and tie, face masked by the remains of four different cops’ arousal. Hank didn’t know what to say. He was still achingly hard. Connor began to scoop the seed from his face and lick it off his fingers. Hank was pretty sure he was dying.

“Did you need me for something, Lieutenant?” he asked innocently.

He needed Connor to bend that pert little ass over the computer terminal and drop his trousers, but Hank didn’t say that. 

He answered with a simple, “Yeah. Got a lead I wanted to check out."

Connor straightened up at that, all business again. “Give me a minute to clean up, please.” 

When he moved to eat more cum, Hank winced and ran a hand down his face. Connor was going to ruin him for anyone else. Hell, who was he kidding, he was already a goner for the kid.

"No you don't gotta-- Stop, Connor." He sighed. Connor was looking rather scolded, fingers hovering by his mouth. Hank sighed again and motioned Connor to follow him up the stairs. "C'mon, I'll help you clean up.” He spared a glance behind to make sure Connor was following. “You alright?”

“I was not forced, if that is what you are asking.”

Hank sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. So much for feeling fresh; now he felt sticky and could use a cold shower.

"Fuckin' Reed, why couldn't he have picked the bathroom like a normal fucking person? Nooo , he's gotta gangbang my partner in the evidence room where there's no goddamn sink--"

"Actually, using this room was my idea.”

Hank paused, and looked back. “Why?”

Connor paused before answering, looking at Hank like he was trying to decide how to word a feeling -- because Connor never admitted that’s what it actually was: feelings, desires, wants . Even if Hank saw through all that. “The risk of being caught by someone other than you was significantly higher if we had been in the bathroom.”

That... couldn’t mean what Hank thought it meant. 

“When Detective Reed solicited me to ‘blow him’, I wanted to see how you would react if I did.”

Hank’s mouth parted, but words failed him. Then a blurry memory from days ago surfaced, of him in his house, rubbing one out to a gangbang video that finished with most of the men ejaculating onto the recipient’s face -- a face that he may or may not have pretended to be Connor’s. When he was finished he tried drowning the guilt with booze. One thing lead to another, and the next thing he remembered was Connor slapping him awake to go investigate the murder at Eden Club. Connor had free reign of his house while Hank had been puking his guts out in the bathroom.

Connor must have seen the video on his computer, the nosey little creep. Fuck.

But Connor was still waiting for Hank to say something, looking up at him with his warm, dark eyes that still somehow seemed so innocent in spite of the drying splotches of cum he hadn’t yet wiped away.

Hank shrugged. “Well, you saw me. Was it the reaction you were hoping for?”

Connor glanced at Hank’s crotch. “You have an erection,” he said plainly, like that cleared up everything.

Hank turned around and started up the stairs again. Connor had to be fucking with him. 

"Are you disappointed?" Connor asked in a quieter voice. Hank turned again.

"What? No -- It’s your body, I don’t own you." He felt the corner of his lips quirk. "Hell, you’d figure I’d be used to the sight of you putting disgusting things in your mouth by now.”

“Your body language suggests you also find it arousing when I analyze evidence.”

Hank sighed. Again. Passed a hand over his face as his cheeks reddened.  “You’re gonna get fucked, talking to me like that with that filthy mouth of yours.”

“That’s the goal. But don’t worry, Lieutenant, I have another hole that’s clean.”

Well...Hank was going to have to do something about that.





Notes:

I just wanted Connor covered in cum so I made it happen.
Kudos and comments are much appreciated! You can find me on twitter with the same handle as here: clairesail