[connor's features squish into a confused expression. middle school is not the typical age range or location to learn formal dance. not unless... his led whirls yellow, doing a quick background search on what types of specialty schools would offer such a skill. he's given thousands of results, narrowing the most common explanation to someone who attended boarding school or high-profile families who debuted daughters and sons at cotillion. either way, it suggests a background of wealth and prestige.
which is...decidedly at odds with what he knows about gavin reed.
he catalogues this information for analysis at a later time, instead prioritizing the need to continue this charade and worry about where gavin learned to do this at a later time. it's just as well, because despite pulling up a subroutine for a waltz...it feels impossibly difficult to focus. like all of his memory and processing capacity is focused on standing upright and performing this well from a manual standpoint, rather than just leaving it on auto-pilot.
he blinks a few times, running diagnostics and coming up with nothing.
maybe he's just...nervous? being in such close proximity to gavin?
(he smells nice. has he always smelled nice?)]
You're good.
[he blurts it out in a rush, brows furrowing behind his mask as they move reasonably smooth across the floor.]
Good at this, I mean. In case that wasn't clear. I--hm. Middle school is not the place to learn where to waltz Gavin.
[why did he lilt detective reed's name like that?]
[ ...what in the fuck? Connor's his own brand of awkward but not this kind. They've been dancing for a hot second and he can already tell his companion's movements are off. Not the usual awkwardness of an android who is full of information but no real world application, no, it was very... human. ]
Well we did at my middle school. [ Don't try to search him, you won't find a 'Gavin Nathaniel Reed' in any school registrars anyway. ] But you holding up okay, Tin Man?
[ He starts to guide them so they're in a corner of the room, just a tad more isolated. Gavin leans in more, enjoy the smell of his cologne more Connor. ] Is that drink hitting you? Can you figure out what was in it?
[ If he's gonna have to toss a drunk Connor in a broom close and deal with this case himself he's gonna be pissed. ]
I'm okay. Though, I'm not made of tin as I've informed you approximately 3.7 times before.
[he smiles--not at all like the awkward grimace that he'd given gavin in the archives some months ago. it's a lazy stretch of his lips, head tilted back slightly even though it doesn't need to be.
it's not until gavin mentions the drink again that he frowns--full on, a little ridiculously shifting from one emotion into the next. something is happening alright.]
Hm.
That drink. It appears to contain several compounds that are thirium-based and safe for android consumption.
And.
[he extends a hand, pointing it smack dab in the middle of gavin's chest, before shifting it up to his shoulder to keep swaying in their waltz. literally. he's gone from leading to just clinging lightly, enjoy.]
And there's something that is directly altering my processing functions. I can't rely on automatic execution like usual. There's also an increased core temperature and a lightness--is this drunk?
[ Gavin rolls his eyes. ] It's a joke. Hank still hasn't made you watch Wizard of Oz? [ Metal man who learns he has a heart... hm. Let's not analyze that reference too much.
But oh shit. It's like someone's taking Connor's expression sliders and shooting them up to 200% in one go and it's very hard for him not to burst into laughter. He bites the inside of his cheek, finding himself thinking that at least he can smile without looking like he's got a USB stuck up his ass.
He oofs at the hand in his chest, looking down and up at him with a very offended look on his face. (Like a very pissy cat.) But no time to be annoyed by it, now he has to lead this big dumb android and start to slowly, slowly, make their way over to some chairs.
He sighs dramatically, like he's the most put upon guy in the entire goddamn world. ]
Yes, Connor, you're just fucking drunk. Let's sit down for a second.
[ Here, look, some chairs off to the side of the ballroom. Sit, you dweeb!! ]
[yeah, that’s a little much for him to grasp right now unfortunately. he makes a mostly incorrect jumble of wording to try and remind himself to a) call hank and b) see this movie that reminds gavin of him apparently.
so much for a dance or seeing how well this middle school did with teaching the basics and not-so basics.
he lets himself be herded over towards the chairs, humming slightly in interest. as soon as he gets a scoff for staring the obvious, connor reaches out and presses a hand to his cheek with a fond smile, fingertips resting just below where his mask hits.]
You look frustrated. I apologize. But—you’re always frustrated, and one of these days it’s going to stick. Here—
[he lets his finger trace along gavin’s frown lines.]
You’re too handsome to scowl all the time.
[and now he’s going to have a seat. by which that means once gavin sits, connor will plop directly into his lap and curl his arms around his shoulders again. it lets him murmur into gavin’s ear and smell him even closer.]
This must be how they do it. It works fast and quick and with the right distraction I’d go just about anywhere.
[ What... the fuck? Gavin feels like he's got whiplash all of a sudden. Why is Connor touching his face? And why the fuck is he calling him handsome? ...wait, Connor think he's handsome? Huh. He's about to inwardly preen before he catches himself, feeling the tips of his ears start to burn hot. ]
S-Shut up, I'm always frowning because I have to deal with pains in the ass like you.
[ It's not quite as up to snuff as his usual barked comments, so thrown for a loop. So, phew, he manages to sit down and okay let's decompress here and re-plan what they're gonna—
Do—
Gavin's eyes go comically wide and he's happy for the mask. Oh, what the... what the... Oh. He smells kinda nice. A warm sort of plastic smell, but it's not unpleasant. Is he wearing cologne too? How weird.
But the faint brush of Connor's lips against the shell of his ear sends a white hot flash straight down his spine and he gulps. No, no, animal hind brain it's not time to play! Connor's drunk. He takes a wobbly breath and the reminder calms down whatever imuplses were about to send info to Little Gavin.
And what Connor says makes him hiss a little. ] Fucking creeps. Can't wait to arrest 'em all.
[ Well, Connor being touchy-feely is apparently a pretty good cover and distraction. Nobody seems to be paying them much mind now. So, well... he loops an arm around Connor's (rather small and almost dainty) waist, continuing the illusion. Hands all in proper places, of course. He turns to speak softly to him. ]
I'll make sure you're alright. Want me to call Hank? We might need backup for this.
Your stress levels are extremely animated, Gavin. Are you alright? I’m fine.
[he says it cheerfully, smiling against reed’s neck dumbly and letting his eyes close. his optical units are functioning at 100% output, and yet his hud feels like it’s lopsided somehow and in need of repairs. it must be another side effect.
at the mention of hank he laughs cheerfully.]
You should let me lure them. I can still do it. That’s what we came for isn’t it?
[he pushes himself upright so he’s looking directly at gavin, finger traipsing along his chest all the way up to the hollow of his throat and suit tie.]
One little drink can’t stop me. Did you know I’m CyberLife’s most advanced prototype? I can do—anything.
[ Jesus Christ! He gets goosebumps along his neck, shifting a little awkwardly. ]
Y-Yeah I'm a little stressed because our plan got derailed with you gettin' fucking roofied.
[ Not that he blames him for it, it's the creeps running this party who deserve his ire. Still. Oh fuck— It's always been something to stare right in Connor's analytical eyes; maybe that's why he was always so uppity, the knowledge that he could decipher and pick him apart layer by layer. (Hm. Why does that sound hot all of a sudden?)
But oh god, yep, that's his hand against his throat. He swallows again, bobbing Connor's fingers with the action. He scoffs, shaking his head. ]
You're barely upright right now, tough guy. Let's give it a few minutes and see if you sober up quick, okay? Sound good? [ And maybe if he can get to his phone he'll text Hank...
But it's very hard to stay focused with a lapfull of a touchy Connor. Especially when this is the most action you've gotten in months. ]
[he can tell gavin is antsy. he can feel every minute twitch and shift, the ebbs and flows of his stress levels. if he were perfectly cognizant and in control of his software and analysis functions, he would have long since deduced the actual type of reaction that gavin is having. it's not outright irritation--it's interest of a physical nature. lucky for gavin, he's not putting that together just yet.
there's a flicker of disappointment that his features are too delicate to register as anything other than a pout, even from behind his mask.]
This is my fault. We might have caught them by now if it weren't for--this.
[but he quickly tightens his hold and leans closer.]
Not this. I mean--not this this. This...sitting here. Being with you. I just mean if it weren't for this drink we could be saving another android.
It's been five minutes, forty-seven seconds and counting. We should go. We can handle it. We make a good team, even if you despise me.
[ Oooooooh fuck. This sure is something and definitely not how he imagined this evening would go. It's always been easy to not think about, with Connor always at a professional and varying levels of hostile distance from him.
But here they are, Connor in his lap and pressed so very close. Voices soft, expression's gentle; he can see the moles some CyberLife artist put on his skin texture. His heart has started to try to pound out of his rib cage on a dime.
Connor's really fucking hot. Goddammit! He never wanted to have to think about this!
Gavin let's out a wheezy breath before he answers, throat bobbing with another gulp. ] Connor, it's fine. It's not your fault. This hasn't happened before, right? It wasn't a variable in our plan.
[ ...that's a weird way to talk, Gavin. It's not very Gavin like. Well he's stressed!! (And mildly aroused.) He shifts and readjusts his hold on Connor, which involves more hand and arm on hips than before. ]
Connor, shit, you're still— Wait, what? [ Gavin blinks and snorts, the words coming out before he can think about them: ] You think I'd be holdin' you like this if I despised you?
[connor smiles, letting out a small hn that’s the precursor to a breathy laugh. he might be drunk but gavin is also acting terribly strange.]
Since when do you say things like that? You sound like what I’m supposed to.
[connor with his statistical likelihoods and too literal statements sometimes, innocently mixed in with his other barbed sass and surprising embrace of personhood and personality. hearing gavin talk about variables is like they’ve flipped roles—not that he’s even seen gavin wasted and sabotaging a mission.
none of that seems quite as important as the feel of his hands pressed against connor’s side—something he’ll catalogue even though it’s only 7% of a map on how it might feel across the rest of his body. that and the implication that gavin could even possibly be doing this out of something besides the mission is... maybe equally breathtaking as the way his drink is making him feel. he sits up, eyes wide even if only one is visible from the setup of his mask.]
Would you be holding me like this if it weren’t for a mission?
[that fascinating thought will have to wait. there’s a loud crash and even connor jerks towards it from where he’s still in gavin’s lap. one of the servants carrying a platter of champagne refills has been bowled over by a guest stumbling around like a newborn foal. he doesn’t need a scan to see the led at their temple, spinning furiously yellow in confusion as two other suited “waiters” come help usher him to the wide and behind a curtain. everyone else easily turns back to what they were doing, but connor leaps up, fast despite his looseness and tugs gavin upright before quickly pulling him on that direction, looking like a petulant date in a hurry to get....somewhere.]
Come on. He’ll be gone if we wait. I’m only operating at a 40% decrease.
[ That laugh sends goosebumps up his spine. He swallows again and can't help a little huff of laughter himself; a rare sound that doesn't also sound obnoxious and arrogant. ]
Guess I get all analytical when I'm stressed out.
[ Gavin's really trying to not think about how nice Connor feels in his arms. This is so ridiculous— he knows this is probably all suspension bridge effect, right? It has to be. He has degrees! In psychology! This is just adrenaline and adrenaline makes you aroused...!
But... the way Connor's lips move and look so up close. How his already hoarse voice sounds hushed and near his ear. Especially when he asks him a question like that, one that stuns him a moment. His pulse is rushing in his ears. ]
I...
[ His answer is cut short by the crashing sound, turning to look at the scene unfolding as well. Ah, right, yes. The whole reason they're here. He grits his teeth, feeling a flash of anger at the people running this fucked up party— But at least they have a good starting point. He hopes they get there in time to save them.
He's yanked up by Connor, slinking his arm around his waist as he walks. Gavin's on the same page, already going off how how invisible they seemed sitting in that chair with their hands all over each other. He starts to tug on his tie to complete the look, that they're a couple who just can't keep their pants on any longer. ]
I'll take point. Just be careful.
[ And then they're slipping through the curtain. ]
[unlike gavin, connor's processors are running a mile a minute for different reasons. he's trying to focus on the mission--trying to push through the lingering effects of what he's had to drink. and also unlike gavin, he's moving purely out of a strict half-projected timeline. if they lose this lead they might have just watched another victim slip through their fingers. he won't let that happen.
he's absolutely not catching onto gavin's idea for cover right now--none of that had been part of a cover for him, it had just been an unfortunate side-effect to the drinking. maybe eventually he would have confronted gavin's attitude and insults, and maybe he would have even realized part of it wasn't as hostile as he'd originally estimated. it certainly wouldn't have involved these methods, though. maybe he'll learn his first semblance of shame and failure when he replays the perfectly flawless video of tonight's events. at least he'll never have to worry about memory loss or questioning what was said even if by accident.
his stealth abilities leave a lot to be desired in the moment, connor too focused on keeping their lead. he can hear the android apologizing as it stumbles through the halls and keeps asking where he's being taken, so at least he can keep approximating where they're at for now. it's nothing more than a very ornate hall like the rest of the venue, only the chatter from the party and more of the furnishing is sparse. it's another wing--one he can't make out from his anticipated blueprints because it's too much of a jumble. he's speed-walking--
and he nearly does it right in front of a hired-goon that has his arms folded and is shoved unconvincingly into a too-tight suit to look like just another butler. he can see the other android and two guards on either side holding it--nearly dragging it now--past the man and behind another large door.
connor frowns, knowing his rate of getting caught is imminent if he just keeps standing there. he looks to gavin and then back to the guard across the hall, obviously frustrated with his slow reaction times and lack of anticipated planning. sometimes relying on his software and protocols is still helpful.]
What--shit.
[he grinds it between his teeth with a twist of his jaw.]
[ Ah shit... of course they'd be taking the android past some 'roided up goon. But, hmm, Gavin's mind is firing off ideas for this but—
Oh my god Connor you big dweeby android man, don't just stand there. He quickly puts together that Connor's touchy feely act as they rushed in wasn't entirely an act, just still so 'drunk' from that fucking drink. (He's gonna enjoy charging these fuckers with anything he can think of.) ]
Hey. [ He says it breathy, in a rush, as if they've been trying to find a spot to neck and his partner is too shy because of the guard. ] Ignore him, let's have fun.
[ And with that, he puts an arm around Connor's waist and immediately pressed him into the wall. Gavin buries his face in his neck, turning his head so his lips are near his ear. Quite the reverse from earlier; he speaks softly. ]
Sorry, just play along. Make him uncomfortable and he might leave.
[ He presses a knee between Connor's long legs (not close enough to touch anything, just give an illusion) and he starts pawing at his lapels.
[even if he weren't too drunk to just let himself be steered, he'd probably still be going along with this. it's a clever diversion--the best cover they've got right now. the only difference is he wouldn't be quite so taken aback, and he wouldn't feel quite so giddy at the prospect of this taking place.
let's just say--it's not entirely professional. to the point where connor takes the lines gavin is trying to draw and make it an act and push it into something a little more convincing. like sliding himself down until gavin's knee connects with his thigh and tilting his head so there's easier access to his neck and ear with a loll. he throws his arms around gavin's shoulders.]
My configuration for statistical likelihood is...mm...malfunctioning. How convincing do you suppose we are?
Do I need to--
[connor cuts himself off with a loud, breathy ah designed to get attention, tilting his head back to catch a glimpse of the staff member. if he gets close enough maybe they can incapacitate him? though it's not exactly a guarantee given his condition. and honestly? he might actually be enjoying this right now. gavin is warm, he still smells good and it's...he understands why humans enjoy embracing one another. he hasn't been this close since he'd hugged hank outide of the chicken feed.]
[ Gavin's definitely not having very professional thoughts either as Connor presses his thigh against him, especially with way his arms feel wrapped around his shoulders. Is this something to bring up with Connor when he's sober and the case is done? ...probably not.
But fuck. That little 'ah' sound he makes is really fucking nice. It's a brilliant cover, really. Gavin shifts and moves like he's trying to press endless hickies to Connor's throat, even though he's just barely ghosting his lips across his skin. He's unbuttoned a few of his buttons near the top, but his hands still remain above fabric. ]
Just keep it up. [ Said hoarsely into his ear. Fuck. This is gonna be fodder for Gavin and his right hand later, Jesus Christ.
The guard clears his throat again and he hears footsteps starting to approach after a moment. ]
There are designated rooms for this sort of thing, you two. Move it along.
[ Gavin rumbles like he's annoyed, shooting the guy a glare. Then going back to hitching Connor up on his knee. If Connor wants to slap him after this he'll let him... ]
[connor flat out ignores the guard, instead hoisting both legs up around gavin’s waist and wrapping them securely. he’s lighter than the average human and he knows reed regularly hits the gym, so he doesn’t anticipate it’ll be much of a problem on short notice.
Please, Gavin.
[he murmurs it softly, very convincing even if he’s not entirely sure what it is he’s supposed to be asking for, what he really wants and what his sluggish drunken system is pushing for. he lets his head shift to the side, sizing up the guard with a dazed little smile.]
Can you escort us to one? Are there any up that way? We need one—really fast.
[ Oh hello... that's nice. Very nice. Yes, it's a good thing Gavin's a bit of a gym rat so he can hold him up with minimal effort.
The slight moan that comes out of him is a little too real for comfort. Fuck! Fuck. Get your head in the game, you sex starved horndog. Jesus fucking Christ. He cradles Connor's head with his hand, trailing his fingers down to his chin and neck.
At least his heavy breathing is mostly real at this point. ]
Yeah. The extra private rooms down there? I got the money.
[ Sometimes a goon can be baited with money, he's learned. But said goon just keeps frowning, setting his jaw. ]
You're not on the list, sir. You gotta go fuck your little plastic twink somewhere else.
[ He's reaching over to grab at Connor. Gavin, without even thinking about it, shoots his arm out and grabs the man's wrist very tightly. ]
[that all happens--very fast. enough to make connor feel even dizzier than he was before, in too deep and too affected both by proximity to gavin, the alcohol, and frankly by how convincing this cover is. he's never really stopped to think about his own needs in any regard other than pure maintenance--making sure he has enough thirium, proper cleaning, regular stasis. but ever since gaining his own free will and making his way into the world as a person, not just an obedient machine, connor has realized there are certain connections he'd like to make. certainly ones that bring about intimacy and a sensation of closeness much in the same way too androids interface.
he's touch-starved, to put it plainly. and if he weren't so bombarded with error messages and warnings and his remaining processors focused on analyzing what was in the damn drink as well as the imminent danger of the guard, maybe he'd notice the signs that gavin is too.
there's a blink of surprise when he's defended, and even the guard looks taken aback and clearly not having anticipated much of a fight or defensiveness most especially from someone who is a good four inches shorter. connor drops back down onto the floor, stumbling unintentionally with a frown.]
There must be a mistake. Let me see your list.
[he sounds a lot more serious than he had moments ago. it's a gamble, but if he can connect to whatever tablet contains that list he can try and add their cover's names right under his nose, assuming he can focus enough. he's already sending out a tentative signal to try and remotely locate it. one hand slides into gavin's--both for steadying and because it's warm. he wants to, and he doesn't have the inhibition not to or the desire to waste an opportunity.]
[ He's voraciously touch starved and he has been for a long time. Hook ups would quell it for a while but he hasn't been doing much of those since the android shit went down... been trying to take things more seriously, he guesses. Even though his attitude (while slightly better) keeps getting in the way.
Something about this goon trying to touch Connor first instead of him set afire said Attitude Problems in his gut. Don't fucking touch him, he's not even in the right state of mind. (Fuck, he's gonna feel really bad about this once they get their info.)
His eyes flick to Connor, hoping he's doing what he thinks he's doing. The seriousness in his voice is... hm. Filing that away for later. His warm hand slips into his and, oh, his heart does an embarrassing little thing. To keep up the cover, he brings it up and presses his lips absently to the back of Connor's hand. ]
Yeah. I paid good money to get into this shindig. You want me to call your supervisor or something, asshole?
[ Talk shit to distract him while you do your thing, Connor. It might work because the guy seems super annoyed but is visibly biting his tongue. If there's one thing Gavin learned hanging around rich assholes growing up, is how to act like one to get what you want. ]
[it's so much more convoluted like this. something that would take milliseconds if he were sober is--requiring all of his focus. his processors are close to 85%, a task that would normally take less than 10. and then gavin goes and distracts him further by pressing a soft kiss against his hand, something that diverts another large sliver of his attention and...
no, he has to do this for both of them. it's important--it's for the other deviants too, for the android they'd seen dragged back there. at least gavin knows how to be convincing. connor doesn't see the way the guard hesitates again, obviously recognizing the same type of tool-bag behaviour from plenty of other guests.
it's just enough time for connor to remotely include their aliases on there.]
I asked you to check again.
[connor squeezes gavin's hand before draping himself around his shoulders again and waiting for the guard to give a frazzled once over on his list. he squints, rubbing a hand over his chin and glancing quickly up at them both before back down.]
Fine. The rooms are to your left. Don't go making a mess.
[he has to get one last parting shot in, apparently.]
[ He gathers Connor into his arms in an attempt to look like he's just that horny, but it's really to cover up whatever kind of expression is trying to go across his face without his permission. Connor's voice? Shouldn't be hitting him right in the gut. His voice is dweeby and hoarse half the time, all stilted and unnatural. But now he's being demanding and oh, if he weren't already breathless.
But he snickers when the guy finally acquiesces and it's not even technically for the front. He squeezes Connor's upper arm in a 'good job' sort of way as he pulls his head back up to look at the goon. ]
'Bout fuckin' time. C'mon, babe.
[ He tugs Connor up and starts to walk them towards the rooms. Oh, wow, his knees are a little shaky and he's almost heaving with breath. It's half adrenaline and half... adrenaline. ]
[connor is still too inebriated to notice the signs in gavin suggesting he's gotten worked up over this. if anything he'd just--treat it exactly like gavin is thinking. adrenaline. nerves from the possibility of failure or compromise. he can tell they're still being watched, and it likely won't be safe to drop any of the illusion until they're in one of the rooms.
there's no sign of the other android--not yet anyway. and that's not to say that he's just not too distracted to have picked up something subtle, like the trace of thirium or a noise at a frequency too high or low for a human to pick up. their last visual was coming down this way, which means he's either in one of these rooms or they've taken him up somewhere else. an initial scan indicates there are no other guards past the initial entry point, so long as that one is distracted. well, good.
connor keeps his arms around gavin, slung across his shoulders and holding onto him like he needs he support. it's not entirely inaccurate, but it does make him much more aware of the physique gavin is keeping under his t-shirts and bulky jacket. his thirium regulator increases by a small percentage as they stop in front of a room and push inside.
now that the focus is off of them and they're alone--connor is both excited and feeling slight anxiousness at what comes next.]
We...did it.
[it comes out in a low murmur, like a rushed exhale of artificial breath as he finally lets go of gavin but doesn't pull away.]
[ It's hard to not keep being distracted by Connor draped over him. His body isn't flesh and blood but it feels so real, he can feel the thirium being pumped throughout his system and it's almost... Well no, there's no almost. Thirium rushes through him in the same way his too hot blood is. It's hard to think of anything else.
Once they're in the room and the door is closed, he heaves a sigh. He reaches up and undoes his mask and tosses it onto the bed, it starting to stick to his face from the sweat. He sort of regrets it the second he turns back to look at Connor, still so close to him, now not entirely impeded by the vision of the mask.
Oh.
It's like there's some magic spell over both of the, the past few minutes of being so close and hands all over making him think, feel and want to do so many things. But Connor's still drunk, it isn't right and they have a job to do... ]
We did.
[ Is that his voice? That sure sounds weird. They're still close and Gavin's hand finds Connor's hip, like there's a magnetic pull between them. He moves in a little closer. They need to plan. They need to find out where the android went. Get evidence. But he can't hear anything over the rush of his own pulse in his ears and his eyes won't move from Connor's rumpled face.
[connor does the same thing, removing it more gently so as not to ruin his mask before setting it down on the nightstand. that rogue tendril of hair brushes across his forehead, and it's easier to see that there's a very light flush on his cheeks no different than a human's, whether it's from the "alcohol" or proximity or both to be determined.
his thirium processor's rate is up, beating faster and faster. he hadn't preconstructed anything like this--gavin getting closer rather than immediately pushing him away or criticizing him for such an easily avoidable scenario. he's not supposed to make mistakes this--not supposed to fail. of course, he's managed to get them back here now and that has to count for something, but if he'd been faster he could have simply incapacitated the guard and followed the android directly. they might not even need to be in this room.
except then he'd miss the slight hitch in gavin's breathing. he'd miss the weight of his hand forming like it belongs over his hip, pulling him in and simultaneously stepping close. he'd miss the smell of his cologne, the up-close look at flecks of gold in his eyes. connor glances up through his lashes, biting his bottom lip--unintentionally coquettish.]
I don't need preconstruction to guess what's happening in these other rooms.
[is that his voice? it sounds breathy and strained, foreign like it's coming from his throat.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
which is...decidedly at odds with what he knows about gavin reed.
he catalogues this information for analysis at a later time, instead prioritizing the need to continue this charade and worry about where gavin learned to do this at a later time. it's just as well, because despite pulling up a subroutine for a waltz...it feels impossibly difficult to focus. like all of his memory and processing capacity is focused on standing upright and performing this well from a manual standpoint, rather than just leaving it on auto-pilot.
he blinks a few times, running diagnostics and coming up with nothing.
maybe he's just...nervous? being in such close proximity to gavin?
(he smells nice. has he always smelled nice?)]
You're good.
[he blurts it out in a rush, brows furrowing behind his mask as they move reasonably smooth across the floor.]
Good at this, I mean. In case that wasn't clear. I--hm. Middle school is not the place to learn where to waltz Gavin.
[why did he lilt detective reed's name like that?]
no subject
Well we did at my middle school. [ Don't try to search him, you won't find a 'Gavin Nathaniel Reed' in any school registrars anyway. ] But you holding up okay, Tin Man?
[ He starts to guide them so they're in a corner of the room, just a tad more isolated. Gavin leans in more, enjoy the smell of his cologne more Connor. ] Is that drink hitting you? Can you figure out what was in it?
[ If he's gonna have to toss a drunk Connor in a broom close and deal with this case himself he's gonna be pissed. ]
no subject
[he smiles--not at all like the awkward grimace that he'd given gavin in the archives some months ago. it's a lazy stretch of his lips, head tilted back slightly even though it doesn't need to be.
it's not until gavin mentions the drink again that he frowns--full on, a little ridiculously shifting from one emotion into the next. something is happening alright.]
Hm.
That drink. It appears to contain several compounds that are thirium-based and safe for android consumption.
And.
[he extends a hand, pointing it smack dab in the middle of gavin's chest, before shifting it up to his shoulder to keep swaying in their waltz. literally. he's gone from leading to just clinging lightly, enjoy.]
And there's something that is directly altering my processing functions. I can't rely on automatic execution like usual. There's also an increased core temperature and a lightness--is this drunk?
no subject
But oh shit. It's like someone's taking Connor's expression sliders and shooting them up to 200% in one go and it's very hard for him not to burst into laughter. He bites the inside of his cheek, finding himself thinking that at least he can smile without looking like he's got a USB stuck up his ass.
He oofs at the hand in his chest, looking down and up at him with a very offended look on his face. (Like a very pissy cat.) But no time to be annoyed by it, now he has to lead this big dumb android and start to slowly, slowly, make their way over to some chairs.
He sighs dramatically, like he's the most put upon guy in the entire goddamn world. ]
Yes, Connor, you're just fucking drunk. Let's sit down for a second.
[ Here, look, some chairs off to the side of the ballroom. Sit, you dweeb!! ]
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so much for a dance or seeing how well this middle school did with teaching the basics and not-so basics.
he lets himself be herded over towards the chairs, humming slightly in interest. as soon as he gets a scoff for staring the obvious, connor reaches out and presses a hand to his cheek with a fond smile, fingertips resting just below where his mask hits.]
You look frustrated. I apologize. But—you’re always frustrated, and one of these days it’s going to stick. Here—
[he lets his finger trace along gavin’s frown lines.]
You’re too handsome to scowl all the time.
[and now he’s going to have a seat. by which that means once gavin sits, connor will plop directly into his lap and curl his arms around his shoulders again. it lets him murmur into gavin’s ear and smell him even closer.]
This must be how they do it. It works fast and quick and with the right distraction I’d go just about anywhere.
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S-Shut up, I'm always frowning because I have to deal with pains in the ass like you.
[ It's not quite as up to snuff as his usual barked comments, so thrown for a loop. So, phew, he manages to sit down and okay let's decompress here and re-plan what they're gonna—
Do—
Gavin's eyes go comically wide and he's happy for the mask. Oh, what the... what the... Oh. He smells kinda nice. A warm sort of plastic smell, but it's not unpleasant. Is he wearing cologne too? How weird.
But the faint brush of Connor's lips against the shell of his ear sends a white hot flash straight down his spine and he gulps. No, no, animal hind brain it's not time to play! Connor's drunk. He takes a wobbly breath and the reminder calms down whatever imuplses were about to send info to Little Gavin.
And what Connor says makes him hiss a little. ] Fucking creeps. Can't wait to arrest 'em all.
[ Well, Connor being touchy-feely is apparently a pretty good cover and distraction. Nobody seems to be paying them much mind now. So, well... he loops an arm around Connor's (rather small and almost dainty) waist, continuing the illusion. Hands all in proper places, of course. He turns to speak softly to him. ]
I'll make sure you're alright. Want me to call Hank? We might need backup for this.
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[he says it cheerfully, smiling against reed’s neck dumbly and letting his eyes close. his optical units are functioning at 100% output, and yet his hud feels like it’s lopsided somehow and in need of repairs. it must be another side effect.
at the mention of hank he laughs cheerfully.]
You should let me lure them. I can still do it. That’s what we came for isn’t it?
[he pushes himself upright so he’s looking directly at gavin, finger traipsing along his chest all the way up to the hollow of his throat and suit tie.]
One little drink can’t stop me. Did you know I’m CyberLife’s most advanced prototype? I can do—anything.
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Y-Yeah I'm a little stressed because our plan got derailed with you gettin' fucking roofied.
[ Not that he blames him for it, it's the creeps running this party who deserve his ire. Still. Oh fuck— It's always been something to stare right in Connor's analytical eyes; maybe that's why he was always so uppity, the knowledge that he could decipher and pick him apart layer by layer. (Hm. Why does that sound hot all of a sudden?)
But oh god, yep, that's his hand against his throat. He swallows again, bobbing Connor's fingers with the action. He scoffs, shaking his head. ]
You're barely upright right now, tough guy. Let's give it a few minutes and see if you sober up quick, okay? Sound good? [ And maybe if he can get to his phone he'll text Hank...
But it's very hard to stay focused with a lapfull of a touchy Connor. Especially when this is the most action you've gotten in months. ]
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[he can tell gavin is antsy. he can feel every minute twitch and shift, the ebbs and flows of his stress levels. if he were perfectly cognizant and in control of his software and analysis functions, he would have long since deduced the actual type of reaction that gavin is having. it's not outright irritation--it's interest of a physical nature. lucky for gavin, he's not putting that together just yet.
there's a flicker of disappointment that his features are too delicate to register as anything other than a pout, even from behind his mask.]
This is my fault. We might have caught them by now if it weren't for--this.
[but he quickly tightens his hold and leans closer.]
Not this. I mean--not this this. This...sitting here. Being with you. I just mean if it weren't for this drink we could be saving another android.
It's been five minutes, forty-seven seconds and counting. We should go. We can handle it. We make a good team, even if you despise me.
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But here they are, Connor in his lap and pressed so very close. Voices soft, expression's gentle; he can see the moles some CyberLife artist put on his skin texture. His heart has started to try to pound out of his rib cage on a dime.
Connor's really fucking hot. Goddammit! He never wanted to have to think about this!
Gavin let's out a wheezy breath before he answers, throat bobbing with another gulp. ] Connor, it's fine. It's not your fault. This hasn't happened before, right? It wasn't a variable in our plan.
[ ...that's a weird way to talk, Gavin. It's not very Gavin like. Well he's stressed!! (And mildly aroused.) He shifts and readjusts his hold on Connor, which involves more hand and arm on hips than before. ]
Connor, shit, you're still— Wait, what? [ Gavin blinks and snorts, the words coming out before he can think about them: ] You think I'd be holdin' you like this if I despised you?
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Since when do you say things like that? You sound like what I’m supposed to.
[connor with his statistical likelihoods and too literal statements sometimes, innocently mixed in with his other barbed sass and surprising embrace of personhood and personality. hearing gavin talk about variables is like they’ve flipped roles—not that he’s even seen gavin wasted and sabotaging a mission.
none of that seems quite as important as the feel of his hands pressed against connor’s side—something he’ll catalogue even though it’s only 7% of a map on how it might feel across the rest of his body. that and the implication that gavin could even possibly be doing this out of something besides the mission is... maybe equally breathtaking as the way his drink is making him feel. he sits up, eyes wide even if only one is visible from the setup of his mask.]
Would you be holding me like this if it weren’t for a mission?
[that fascinating thought will have to wait. there’s a loud crash and even connor jerks towards it from where he’s still in gavin’s lap. one of the servants carrying a platter of champagne refills has been bowled over by a guest stumbling around like a newborn foal. he doesn’t need a scan to see the led at their temple, spinning furiously yellow in confusion as two other suited “waiters” come help usher him to the wide and behind a curtain. everyone else easily turns back to what they were doing, but connor leaps up, fast despite his looseness and tugs gavin upright before quickly pulling him on that direction, looking like a petulant date in a hurry to get....somewhere.]
Come on. He’ll be gone if we wait. I’m only operating at a 40% decrease.
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Guess I get all analytical when I'm stressed out.
[ Gavin's really trying to not think about how nice Connor feels in his arms. This is so ridiculous— he knows this is probably all suspension bridge effect, right? It has to be. He has degrees! In psychology! This is just adrenaline and adrenaline makes you aroused...!
But... the way Connor's lips move and look so up close. How his already hoarse voice sounds hushed and near his ear. Especially when he asks him a question like that, one that stuns him a moment. His pulse is rushing in his ears. ]
I...
[ His answer is cut short by the crashing sound, turning to look at the scene unfolding as well. Ah, right, yes. The whole reason they're here. He grits his teeth, feeling a flash of anger at the people running this fucked up party— But at least they have a good starting point. He hopes they get there in time to save them.
He's yanked up by Connor, slinking his arm around his waist as he walks. Gavin's on the same page, already going off how how invisible they seemed sitting in that chair with their hands all over each other. He starts to tug on his tie to complete the look, that they're a couple who just can't keep their pants on any longer. ]
I'll take point. Just be careful.
[ And then they're slipping through the curtain. ]
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he's absolutely not catching onto gavin's idea for cover right now--none of that had been part of a cover for him, it had just been an unfortunate side-effect to the drinking. maybe eventually he would have confronted gavin's attitude and insults, and maybe he would have even realized part of it wasn't as hostile as he'd originally estimated. it certainly wouldn't have involved these methods, though. maybe he'll learn his first semblance of shame and failure when he replays the perfectly flawless video of tonight's events. at least he'll never have to worry about memory loss or questioning what was said even if by accident.
his stealth abilities leave a lot to be desired in the moment, connor too focused on keeping their lead. he can hear the android apologizing as it stumbles through the halls and keeps asking where he's being taken, so at least he can keep approximating where they're at for now. it's nothing more than a very ornate hall like the rest of the venue, only the chatter from the party and more of the furnishing is sparse. it's another wing--one he can't make out from his anticipated blueprints because it's too much of a jumble. he's speed-walking--
and he nearly does it right in front of a hired-goon that has his arms folded and is shoved unconvincingly into a too-tight suit to look like just another butler. he can see the other android and two guards on either side holding it--nearly dragging it now--past the man and behind another large door.
connor frowns, knowing his rate of getting caught is imminent if he just keeps standing there. he looks to gavin and then back to the guard across the hall, obviously frustrated with his slow reaction times and lack of anticipated planning. sometimes relying on his software and protocols is still helpful.]
What--shit.
[he grinds it between his teeth with a twist of his jaw.]
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Oh my god Connor you big dweeby android man, don't just stand there. He quickly puts together that Connor's touchy feely act as they rushed in wasn't entirely an act, just still so 'drunk' from that fucking drink. (He's gonna enjoy charging these fuckers with anything he can think of.) ]
Hey. [ He says it breathy, in a rush, as if they've been trying to find a spot to neck and his partner is too shy because of the guard. ] Ignore him, let's have fun.
[ And with that, he puts an arm around Connor's waist and immediately pressed him into the wall. Gavin buries his face in his neck, turning his head so his lips are near his ear. Quite the reverse from earlier; he speaks softly. ]
Sorry, just play along. Make him uncomfortable and he might leave.
[ He presses a knee between Connor's long legs (not close enough to touch anything, just give an illusion) and he starts pawing at his lapels.
He hears the guard make an awkward cough. ]
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[even if he weren't too drunk to just let himself be steered, he'd probably still be going along with this. it's a clever diversion--the best cover they've got right now. the only difference is he wouldn't be quite so taken aback, and he wouldn't feel quite so giddy at the prospect of this taking place.
let's just say--it's not entirely professional. to the point where connor takes the lines gavin is trying to draw and make it an act and push it into something a little more convincing. like sliding himself down until gavin's knee connects with his thigh and tilting his head so there's easier access to his neck and ear with a loll. he throws his arms around gavin's shoulders.]
My configuration for statistical likelihood is...mm...malfunctioning. How convincing do you suppose we are?
Do I need to--
[connor cuts himself off with a loud, breathy ah designed to get attention, tilting his head back to catch a glimpse of the staff member. if he gets close enough maybe they can incapacitate him? though it's not exactly a guarantee given his condition. and honestly? he might actually be enjoying this right now. gavin is warm, he still smells good and it's...he understands why humans enjoy embracing one another. he hasn't been this close since he'd hugged hank outide of the chicken feed.]
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But fuck. That little 'ah' sound he makes is really fucking nice. It's a brilliant cover, really. Gavin shifts and moves like he's trying to press endless hickies to Connor's throat, even though he's just barely ghosting his lips across his skin. He's unbuttoned a few of his buttons near the top, but his hands still remain above fabric. ]
Just keep it up. [ Said hoarsely into his ear. Fuck. This is gonna be fodder for Gavin and his right hand later, Jesus Christ.
The guard clears his throat again and he hears footsteps starting to approach after a moment. ]
There are designated rooms for this sort of thing, you two. Move it along.
[ Gavin rumbles like he's annoyed, shooting the guy a glare. Then going back to hitching Connor up on his knee. If Connor wants to slap him after this he'll let him... ]
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Please, Gavin.
[he murmurs it softly, very convincing even if he’s not entirely sure what it is he’s supposed to be asking for, what he really wants and what his sluggish drunken system is pushing for. he lets his head shift to the side, sizing up the guard with a dazed little smile.]
Can you escort us to one? Are there any up that way? We need one—really fast.
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The slight moan that comes out of him is a little too real for comfort. Fuck! Fuck. Get your head in the game, you sex starved horndog. Jesus fucking Christ. He cradles Connor's head with his hand, trailing his fingers down to his chin and neck.
At least his heavy breathing is mostly real at this point. ]
Yeah. The extra private rooms down there? I got the money.
[ Sometimes a goon can be baited with money, he's learned. But said goon just keeps frowning, setting his jaw. ]
You're not on the list, sir. You gotta go fuck your little plastic twink somewhere else.
[ He's reaching over to grab at Connor. Gavin, without even thinking about it, shoots his arm out and grabs the man's wrist very tightly. ]
Don't fucking touch him.
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he's touch-starved, to put it plainly. and if he weren't so bombarded with error messages and warnings and his remaining processors focused on analyzing what was in the damn drink as well as the imminent danger of the guard, maybe he'd notice the signs that gavin is too.
there's a blink of surprise when he's defended, and even the guard looks taken aback and clearly not having anticipated much of a fight or defensiveness most especially from someone who is a good four inches shorter. connor drops back down onto the floor, stumbling unintentionally with a frown.]
There must be a mistake. Let me see your list.
[he sounds a lot more serious than he had moments ago. it's a gamble, but if he can connect to whatever tablet contains that list he can try and add their cover's names right under his nose, assuming he can focus enough. he's already sending out a tentative signal to try and remotely locate it. one hand slides into gavin's--both for steadying and because it's warm. he wants to, and he doesn't have the inhibition not to or the desire to waste an opportunity.]
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Something about this goon trying to touch Connor first instead of him set afire said Attitude Problems in his gut. Don't fucking touch him, he's not even in the right state of mind. (Fuck, he's gonna feel really bad about this once they get their info.)
His eyes flick to Connor, hoping he's doing what he thinks he's doing. The seriousness in his voice is... hm. Filing that away for later. His warm hand slips into his and, oh, his heart does an embarrassing little thing. To keep up the cover, he brings it up and presses his lips absently to the back of Connor's hand. ]
Yeah. I paid good money to get into this shindig. You want me to call your supervisor or something, asshole?
[ Talk shit to distract him while you do your thing, Connor. It might work because the guy seems super annoyed but is visibly biting his tongue. If there's one thing Gavin learned hanging around rich assholes growing up, is how to act like one to get what you want. ]
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no, he has to do this for both of them. it's important--it's for the other deviants too, for the android they'd seen dragged back there. at least gavin knows how to be convincing. connor doesn't see the way the guard hesitates again, obviously recognizing the same type of tool-bag behaviour from plenty of other guests.
it's just enough time for connor to remotely include their aliases on there.]
I asked you to check again.
[connor squeezes gavin's hand before draping himself around his shoulders again and waiting for the guard to give a frazzled once over on his list. he squints, rubbing a hand over his chin and glancing quickly up at them both before back down.]
Fine. The rooms are to your left. Don't go making a mess.
[he has to get one last parting shot in, apparently.]
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But he snickers when the guy finally acquiesces and it's not even technically for the front. He squeezes Connor's upper arm in a 'good job' sort of way as he pulls his head back up to look at the goon. ]
'Bout fuckin' time. C'mon, babe.
[ He tugs Connor up and starts to walk them towards the rooms. Oh, wow, his knees are a little shaky and he's almost heaving with breath. It's half adrenaline and half... adrenaline. ]
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there's no sign of the other android--not yet anyway. and that's not to say that he's just not too distracted to have picked up something subtle, like the trace of thirium or a noise at a frequency too high or low for a human to pick up. their last visual was coming down this way, which means he's either in one of these rooms or they've taken him up somewhere else. an initial scan indicates there are no other guards past the initial entry point, so long as that one is distracted. well, good.
connor keeps his arms around gavin, slung across his shoulders and holding onto him like he needs he support. it's not entirely inaccurate, but it does make him much more aware of the physique gavin is keeping under his t-shirts and bulky jacket. his thirium regulator increases by a small percentage as they stop in front of a room and push inside.
now that the focus is off of them and they're alone--connor is both excited and feeling slight anxiousness at what comes next.]
We...did it.
[it comes out in a low murmur, like a rushed exhale of artificial breath as he finally lets go of gavin but doesn't pull away.]
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Once they're in the room and the door is closed, he heaves a sigh. He reaches up and undoes his mask and tosses it onto the bed, it starting to stick to his face from the sweat. He sort of regrets it the second he turns back to look at Connor, still so close to him, now not entirely impeded by the vision of the mask.
Oh.
It's like there's some magic spell over both of the, the past few minutes of being so close and hands all over making him think, feel and want to do so many things. But Connor's still drunk, it isn't right and they have a job to do... ]
We did.
[ Is that his voice? That sure sounds weird. They're still close and Gavin's hand finds Connor's hip, like there's a magnetic pull between them. He moves in a little closer. They need to plan. They need to find out where the android went. Get evidence. But he can't hear anything over the rush of his own pulse in his ears and his eyes won't move from Connor's rumpled face.
Oh fuck. ]
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his thirium processor's rate is up, beating faster and faster. he hadn't preconstructed anything like this--gavin getting closer rather than immediately pushing him away or criticizing him for such an easily avoidable scenario. he's not supposed to make mistakes this--not supposed to fail. of course, he's managed to get them back here now and that has to count for something, but if he'd been faster he could have simply incapacitated the guard and followed the android directly. they might not even need to be in this room.
except then he'd miss the slight hitch in gavin's breathing. he'd miss the weight of his hand forming like it belongs over his hip, pulling him in and simultaneously stepping close. he'd miss the smell of his cologne, the up-close look at flecks of gold in his eyes. connor glances up through his lashes, biting his bottom lip--unintentionally coquettish.]
I don't need preconstruction to guess what's happening in these other rooms.
[is that his voice? it sounds breathy and strained, foreign like it's coming from his throat.]
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