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It was a cold and rainy night in good old Detroit, and you were lost in thought about Connor.
Whatever there was between you, it was still new and strange. There was no protocol for a human and an android in love, no simple answers to the complicated nature of your relationship.
But somehow, you made it work. The platonic display of affection and late-night conversations came as naturally to you both as investigation, because you had been friends for as long as you had known each other.
Except you were a human with needs, and although you were fully prepared for celibacy given the fact that Connor had his limitations, you were absolutely not expecting him to be such a fine kisser. Really, you should have known. His sharp intuition and carefully honed adaptability primed him to be an excellent student.
What concerned you, however, was whether or not you pushed him into this new territory. Connor was perfect to you in whatever way he was, and you didn’t want him to feel like he had to do this on your behalf. It wouldn’t be fair in the least. Yet he never gave any indication that he disliked the intimacy, and trying to understand Connor was a difficult feat in of itself.
Which is why you were hiding away in your private office at an ungodly hour, scrambling your brain with heaps of paperwork instead of dealing with your emotions like a proper adult.
But life had its way of kicking you into action whether you wanted to or not, so as soon as you heard the door slide open behind you, you instantly knew it was Connor.
“Hey there.”
“Hey yourself,” you greeted lightly, turning back to your work so he could not see the blush spreading on your cheeks.
The sound of casual footsteps alerted you to his gradual strut towards you. “You know,” he began conversationally with a lilt in his voice, almost as if he were planning something. “One would think that you’ve been avoiding me lately.” He came to a stop right behind you.
You scoffed, penning in some details to a log chart. “Don’t be silly, I’ve just been very busy.”
“Too busy to see me?” Ouch, that one stabbed you right in the heart.
You abandoned the paperwork for another time and pulled Connor into a tight hug. “I’m sorry if it seemed like that, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” Before he could press you further, you looped your arms around his neck and asked, “What exactly are you still doing here, anyway?”
“I could ask you the same question.” He placed his hands on your waist, smiling playfully.
“Oh, you know. Captain Fowler will eat me alive if I don’t finish writing up my case report by tomorrow.”
Connor hummed in thought, eyeing you up in a way that told you he knew what was really going on. “Except I clearly, distinctly remember hearing the captain telling us that our new leads warrant continuing the case. So you have enough time to finish, ergo you shouldn’t need to be here so late.”
"The nerve of you to call me out like that."
“How did such a bad liar like you become a detective?” he teased.
You couldn’t help chuckling. “Don’t blame me, blame your advanced programming. You’re too sharp for your own good."
His hands tightened their grip to pull you in against his chest, and in a heartbeat Connor nearly crossed the distance to meet your lips in what promised to be an electrifying kiss.
But before he got the chance, you gently pushed him back. He searched your eyes, confusion written all over his face. “Is something wrong?” he asked hesitantly.
“No, Connor,” you quietly replied. Despite your reservations, you still reached out to caress his cheek. “I just…want to be sure that this is what you want.”
“Oh.” And just like that, his boyish smile returned. “Of course I want you. Have I done anything to make you doubt that?”
You shook your head, tracing the sharp outline of his cheekbone with your thumb. “It’s just that, well, it’s not like you get any kind of sexual satisfaction from all of…this.”
Connor slid his hands along your back as he rested his forehead against yours. “It makes me happy, knowing that I make you happy. Isn’t that enough?”
“Is that enough for you?” you whispered, flushing at his straightforwardness.
“It absolutely is. In fact…” You barely had time to react to his sly smirk before he suddenly spun you around to face the desk, the disorienting movement forcing you to place your hands on the cool surface. “Let me show you just how much I want you,” he whispered suggestively in your ear, pressing his full length against your back and wrapping his arms around you.
You were struck speechless. Was this the same polite, well-mannered android — man — who threw corny one-liners at you and considered chasing down criminals while in civilian uniform a romantic date?
“I can tell that you’re into this,” he continued, trailing a hand down your stomach, lower and lower to your inner thigh. “Your heart rate has increased from baseline levels.” And there it was, typical Connor speech. You nearly quipped back at him, if not for the fact that the next sound out of your mouth was a sharp gasp when Connor boldly hiked up your skirt and lightly ran two fingers along the dampness of your underwear.
Your hand shot out to grasp his. “Conor, what in the world are you doing?” you asked shakily.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Kicking things up a notch.”
“B-but, you don’t have to —“
“I know,” he whispered. “I’d really like to, though. Please?”
You bit your lip in hesitation. Was there any point in holding back? Connor may not fully grasp the need for sex, but he wanted to share this moment with you because you meant something to him. “If you want to stop at any point, don’t hesitate to do so,” you cautioned, loosening your grip on his hand and resting your own on his forearm instead.
Connor grinned and trailed his other hand under your shirt, skirting the edge of your bra with his fingers. “That won’t be necessary.” A slight pressure at your inner thigh forced you to spread your legs a little wider, and you breathed out a shaky sigh as his other hand cupped your breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb into a stiff peak.
This really was happening, wasn’t it? And damn did you want it, especially with that voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear while his fingers deftly moved your underwear to the side to feel your slick cunt, rubbing in teasing, barely-there motions as he explored.
“You’re so wet,” he muttered. “Do I do this to you? Make you so eager and willing?”
“You — you know you do,” you admitted, shamelessly grinding into his touch for more stimulation.
And he mercifully granted it, circling your clit with purposeful strokes as he moved his other hand to your neglected breast. You were practically on fire, overheated and flushed from the taboo of it all — human and android, engaging in such an elicit act at work where they could be walked in on at any moment. Just the thought of it sent you into a desperate need for more, more of him and his talented fingers and sinful mouth —
“Connor, please,” you whined, unsure of whether he knew what you wanted.
But he never failed to disappoint, of course.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he cooed, sucking tender love bites into your neck as his fingers filled your aching cunt, stretching you just the way you needed. He pumped them slowly, either getting used to the novelty of the situation, or making sure he wasn’t hurting you.
Connor listened carefully to your stifled moans and heavy breathing, felt the quivering of your thighs pressed tightly against his hand, your racing heartbeat against his lips as he kissed your pulse. You almost envied him for his collected composure, yet when he grinded the palm of his hand against your clit and angled his fingers just so, you knew that you wouldn’t trade this incredible feeling for anything in the world.
He increased the pace gradually, and a particularly rough thrust forced a loud gasp out of you.
“I think I’ll very much enjoy seeing you like this again,” Connor said, grinning against your heated skin.
You were a moaning, shaky mess by now, gripping the edge of the table and eagerly meeting his thrusts in search of release. “Just a little more," you whispered to him, biting your bottom lip as the steady buildup of tension rose higher and higher, until you crested with a delirious cry of his name.
Connor gently eased his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face for a closer look at the slickness coating them. You watched with baited breath. Tell me he’s not going to —
Oh. He didn’t just lick his fingers, he brought them all the way into his mouth, closing his eyes as he sucked off your essence and dragging them out with a wet pop.
“Connor,” you whispered, entirely too aroused at the sight.
To him, the gesture might have been innocent in nature. He did, after all, sample many fluids at crime scenes to identify and catalogue the evidence. To you, the image will forever be burned into your head for future revisiting.
He noticed you staring, and much to your embarrassment, had the audacity to wink at you.
Well, two could play at that game. Connor was nearly thrown off balance by the assertive pull of your hand at the back of his head as you smashed your lips together, holding him close to you as you dipped you tongue into his mouth. Ever the levelheaded man, Connor recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around you and meeting your passionate kiss with a raw sort of sensuality that had you lightheaded and breathless.
He wrestled control away from you bit by bit, steering you into a slower pace. You followed his lead, captivated by how soft and gentle his lips were, how carefully they moved against yours, and how the smooth caress of his hands along your back soothed your heated body.
With one final nip to your bottom lip, Connor broke away to look at your flushed face. You could only stare back, overcome by your feelings for him.
“I love you,” he whispered, so achingly tender and unsure of himself that you just had to kiss him again.
“I love you, too,” you sighed against his lips, and there you two remained, locked in an embrace as the rain fell over good old Detroit.