"Mine" ~ A Gift Fic for LukeLemon-Art
I have been among the DBH community for a few months now and the one thing I love most about it is how supportive everyone seems to be. It doesnât matter if you are an artist, writer, animator, video editor, cosplayer etc. You are welcomed here with open arms and encouraged to do your very best.
The best example of this I can give is @lukelemon-art. I have watched them encourage people of all mediums and fandoms to do well. Iâve experienced their fun nature and their generosity myself when they reblogged my friend @bunnylove56âs Reed900 fic when they werenât sure anyone would like it. They gave her the confidence to keep going and I adore Luke for conspiring with me to get her to keep going. I never expected it and it only proves my point further.
The above artwork was recently done by Luke with an amazing backstory of Connor, discarding his LED and Gavin chooses to keep it, worn by a leather strap around his neck. Not only did this warm my heart, but inspired me to write my first Convin story as a gift to Luke for all their kindness, not just to me, but the community. Their art makes me happy, as I imagine it does a lot of you. So hereâs me supporting their art and repaying them for too many kindnesses to count.Â
Note: This gift fic is rated M and contains a big old lemonâŚlol Because of Tumblrâs new rules and to be safe, the preview will end with a link to finish the story on AO3 instead of the typical cut to read the entire thing on my blog. So if you arenât into reading something a bit smutty, go back now, gentle reader.
Connor wondered, honestly, what frustrated him more: the idea of Detective Reed disobeying Hankâs direct orders, or the fact that Connor had made a deal with him to get them to this point.
He had been trying diligently over the past year to find ways of endearing himself to the bitter Detective, but nothing he did seemed to quell the manâs hatred for him. No amount of help, kind gestures, or careful consideration had changed a thing between them.
They fought constantly on the job and it had shown its own wear on Connor over time. He recalled how, in a fit of frustration, he had pulled off his own LED and tossed it at the Detectiveâs feet.
âTHERE! Since it bothers you so much! Now you can stop complaining about it and actually get some work done. Oh, wait. Thatâs right! I mean sit on your damn phone instead of actually helping us for once!â
Everyone had looked shocked to see such anger come from him, but they often forgot he was no longer a thing who took orders. It had all just boiled over and he couldnât take it anymore. A part of him felt guilt at the look that crossed Reedâs face, but he walked away before he could worry on it too much. In that moment, he felt justified, but later he regretted it.
If for nothing else, he had taken pride in wearing his LED once heâd deviated to remind him of their struggle and to never be ashamed of who he was. Because it made him into the man he was now, who had friends, family and a life that was entirely his own.
This, naturally, was how he found himself helping assist Detective Reed into his apartment.
âLast door, on the left.â Gavin groaned as he stumbled a bit.
Theyâd been in a scuffle only an hour before, all thanks to Detective Yells-Too-Much. Hank, in some disturbing thought to force them to into being civil, had downright ordered them to work together.
âFrankly, everyone is getting tired of listening to you two argue all the time. Itâs not productive and seriously hurts office morale. Weâre fucking homicide. We see gruesome death and tragedy on the daily and somehow you two bitching every day is making it even worse.â Hank had said, frustrated when the two had yet another blow up.
âWhat about Nines?â Gavin had asked. It seemed the further from friendly he got from Connor, the more he stopped harassing the RK900 model. Heâd actually started working with him, to Connorâs surprise.
âWeâre swapping partners for the week. Nines will work with me and you two need to learn to work together. Fowlerâs down my neck about this and if you two canât work this out thereâs the possibility of reassignment to a different department.â
That had gotten a reaction, from both of them. Because it would likely be one or the other, which meant Connor would have to leave Hank or Gavin would be losing his position in his preferred field. Neither of these were an option.
Connor moved to the door, pressing Reed to the wall to help him stand better.
âKeys?â Connor asked.
âPocket.â Gavin replied with a twinge of pain. Theyâd been staking out a warehouse, helping out the drug division on a red ice case, but couldnât seem to not fight. They were completely hopeless being stuck in the confines of Gavinâs car and their inability to ignore one another got them caught.
They were set upon by some low level lackeyâs who luckily were too stupid to be properly armed. Connor had sustained some damage to his arm, but had come out holding his own. Reed, on the other hand, had not. A quick glance at the wound on his abdomen told Connor the glass bottle had cut Gavin as he tried to dodge it. He would be okay, but he would need stitches and proper medical care.
âFuck that. I donât have the money to pay for an ER visit. Iâll just do it myself, like always.â Gavin had said with labored breathing as Connor drove them away from the warehouse, the sound of gunfire finally breaking the air as more lackeys came to their friendsâ aid. It was fight or flight for Connor and at seeing his human companion bleeding and exhausted, he chose to live and fight another day.
âWhat do you mean like always?â Connor asked incredulously. It was purely rhetorical though as he didnât need to consider it much to know Gavin Reed refused to go to the hospital unless he was taken there by force⌠or unconscious. Connor considered that as a valid option, but cast it aside at the thought of the assault charges that might accompany it when Gavin gained consciousness.
But Reed was stubborn and finally theyâd come to a compromise: Gavin would allow Connor to do it for him. He could locate the proper programs to accomplish the task of patching Reed up. If he could not get him proper medical help, then this was the next best option.
Connor stared at the Detective, whose free arm hung a bit limply at his side. Blood could be seen staining his shirt there, as well. Wonderful. Without much thought, Connor plunged his hand down into the Detectiveâs jean pocket to feel around for keys. He felt Gavin stiffen at his shoulder.
âFuckinâ careful, dipshit. Youâre grabbing my keys, not playing pocket pool.â Gavin bit out between clenched teeth. Connor ignored him and pulled the keys out, setting about the task of opening the door. Once he did, he heard a loud mewling getting closer.
The small, furry head of a cat peeked through the crack of the door, itâs tiny paw pulling at it to further open it.
âDonât let him out. Heâs a fucking escape artist.â Gavin groaned as he pushed the door in and pressed the cat inside. Connor followed behind him, closing the door and entering into Gavin Reedâs apartment for the first time.
Gavin went directly for his cabinets as the first room they entered was the kitchen. Off to the right was an open archway into what Connor considered was the living room. He didnât have much time to consider it though as he watched Reed pulling out more medical supplies then he figured most humans would keep in their homes.
âHow often do you get injured on the job?â Connor asked at the fully stocked cabinet of disinfectants, gauze, bandages and other medical supplies.
âEnough to be prepared.â Gavin replied as he opened a drawer to his left and pulled out a partially full bottle of whiskey and a small, unmarked kit. Connor eyed him for a moment, but decided it wasnât worth the headache.
Gavin sat on the counter with some difficulty and Connor had no choice but to help him, as his arm was of no real use. Once there, Gavin opened the whiskey bottle with his teeth and took a deep dram of the amber liquid. Connor immediately took hold of the bottle and pulled it away.
âWhat the fuck, Connor? You gonna make me go through this stone cold sober?â Gavin asked bitterly.
âYouâre the one who refused to go to the hospital, where they could ease the pain youâre about to feel. You have no room to complain and I need you lucid.â Connor said simply. Perhaps a small part of him enjoyed mocking Reed, but he tried not to think on it too much.
Connor turned to look at the supplies he was given and felt his eyes flutter as he downloaded the necessary program to properly sew stitches. He considered asking how Gavin also had access to the items required to do this, but was certain heâd probably either not get a response or would get a bullshit one.
Connor lifted the hem of Gavinâs shirt, glancing to assess the damage, but knowing full well his first instinct was correct. He did his best to clean the wound, having Gavin hold his shirt up so he could work. Connor noticed he was in pain, but he gritted his teeth against it.
âSince we have some quiet time, are you ready to tell me why you hate me so much?â Connor asked, figuring anything that distracted Gavin would be better than letting the man suffer.
âBecause youâre a brown nosing cunt who - FUCK! The hell Connor?â Gavin roared when Connor threw caution to the wind and straight up applied the chemical cleanser without care to the wound.
âSorry. My hand slipped.â Connor replied stiffly as he grabbed another piece of cloth and tried to be more gentle. Gavin glared at him, still tensing for the pain he no doubt anticipated, but Connor was content with letting the snide remark go.
âWhat do you care whether or not I like you anyway? Weâre not partners, so why the hell should you give a damn?â Gavin asked, choosing his wording more carefully this time as Connor dabbed around the edge of his cut.
âIâve only been trying to figure it out since day one. Youâd think I personally wronged you in some way.â
âIf you havenât noticed, Iâm an asshole to all androids.â Gavin replied. Connorâs eyes lifted and he noted Gavin had been watching him, but the moment their eyes met he quickly looked away.
âThatâs not true, actually. What about Nines? You show him more regard than you ever have for me.â Connor said pointedly, not faltering in his look. Something passed over Gavinâs face, it was minute, but it was there. A moment of panic, then recovery.
âNines does as heâs told. He doesnât get in my way or stop me from doing my job.â Gavin replied and his eyes came back to Connor, side glancing him, then looking down to where the small cat was perched on the floor, watching them. It moved gracefully, wiggling its tiny behind before it jumped on the counter beside Gavin and stepped on his thigh. Gavin opted to focus there.
âNines also is still an android. Itâs very simple Detective. I. AM. ALIVE. Iâm not a piece of furniture for you to do with as you please and until you learn this, it will be the primary cause of our arguments.â Connor said in quick succession. How many times must they have this conversation, re-worded in so many different ways?
âIâm in fucking pain here. Canât you give me a break, just once?â Gavin asked and Connor noted his voice sounded weary. The cat at his thigh pressed its face into Gavinâs palm and he gave it such a momentary look of tenderness that It shocked Connor. Then it walked further up Reedâs leg, jumped effortlessly onto his shoulder and stood there.
âThatâs not really sanitary for what weâre doing Reed.â Connor began, but found himself intrigued by how the cat walked behind Gavinâs head and laid itself around his neck and shoulders so casually. Its foot disturbed the leather strap that usually hung around the Detectiveâs neck, dipping down into his shirt. Connor had always wondered what that was, but opted to not pry.
âThe cat stays. Heâs more of a comfort than you are.â Gavin said, but it wasnât as mean spirited as it mightâve normally been, because the cat was rubbing its face against the stubble on his chin. Connor just watched, forgetting himself momentarily. Who the hell is this and what did he do with Gavin Reed?
When Gavinâs eyes came back to Connor he seemed to remember himself and that look of indifference came back. It broke the momentary spell and Connor continued working.
Silence hung between them as he worked, except for the purring of the cat on Gavinâs shoulders and the occasional groan or gasp of pain from him as Connor used skilled hands to suture up the cut. He preferred the silence, not remembering a time when the two of them had been so close and not blowing up into a full argument.
He wasnât sure why this gentler side of the Detective intrigued him. He did not even know he had a pet and never wouldâve guessed he could be affectionate with anything. But as long as Connor pretended not to notice, Gavin lavished the animal with attention. Had he ever seen the Detective smile where it didnât feel like he was baring his teeth as a threat? No, not around Connor. In the pain, he sought comfort in the animal and it seemed to sense his need of it. It never left his shoulders, nuzzling and pawing at the man the more his discomfort seemed to peak.
When he was done with his side, Connor moved to roll up the sleeve on Gavinâs shirt. This wound was superficial in comparison to the other and needed nothing more than a bandage. He stepped into Gavin, the Detectiveâs knee brushing the inside of Connorâs thigh. Gavin jumped, startling the cat, but did not remove it.
âCareful.â Gavin said in a low tone. Connor tilted his head, trying to figure out what exactly had set the Detective off. Gavin moved his knee, unable to meet Connorâs eyes and with a slight blush filling his cheeks.
âYou do realize I have no genitalia to injure, correct?â Connor said innocently enough, but Gavinâs face went a bright shade of red almost instantly at his words.
âWhy the fuck would you tell me that?â Gavin asked, obviously startled by this admission.
âYou feared hurting me, didnât you?â Connor asked in reply.
âThat is so fucking weird.â Gavin continued with a groan as he covered his face with his one free hand.
âIâm a prototype, Detective. What use would I have for - â
âSTOP talking. Please? Just, stop.â Gavin begged, still not looking at him. Silence hung between them, awkward to say the very least. Then Reed broke the silence. âYour arm. Itâs injured.â
Connor looked down to observe the blue blood soaking through his jacket arm. He pulled his arm out of it and found his white dress shirt was covered in blue as well. Connor shrugged his jacket off, laying it neatly over the kitchen chair. When he turned back, Gavin was moving tenderly off the counter.
âWait.â Connor called out as he went to help the man down. Reed waved his hands away, the cat still laying around his neck like a scarf. It yawned, unbothered, and Connor wondered if this was a natural thing for these two with how contented it was soaking up the Detectiveâs warmth.
âGet on the counter.â Reed said suddenly as he reached for the small, unmarked kit heâd had hiding with the whiskey bottle. Connor eyed it curiously, but when Reed turned and noticed him not moving he added, âGet a move on.â
âIâll be fine. Once Iâm back at the office I can use one of the android repair kits to patch up my arm. You neednât worry.â
âWhat the hell do you think this is?â Reed asked as he opened the small container. To Connorâs surprise, it was an android repair kit. A crudely put together one, yes, but still exactly what was needed for superficial wounds like what Connor had. He stared at Gavin, who seemed to be getting flustered by Connorâs sudden attentions. âWhat?â
âIâm just surprised youâd have something like that so readily available.â Connor responded truthfully. He wouldnât think that Gavin would even care enough to keep something like that around.
âI have an android partner. Why wouldnât I?â Gavin asked, glaring at him. But there was something else there and for the first time, in a long time, Connor saw something in his peripheral vision. It was faint, but unmistakable as it ghosted into his vision.
It had been over a year since heâd deviated, since heâd broken free from his programming. These programs were gone and yet, for whatever reason, it had shown on his periphery screen.
Without knowing why, Connor obeyed and sat on the counter without any argument. Reed moved close and looked awkwardly at his arm, stared, then looked away.
âYouâre gonna have to remove your shirt. I canât get to it and if we need the soldering iron I wouldnât recommend putting it close to fabric.â Gavin said simply. He wasnât looking at Connor, but focusing on the cat on his shoulder instead.
âOf course.â Connor responded and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Connor didnât know why, but there was static in the air that seemed to intensify with each button he undid. Gavin wasnât looking at him, but he felt like he was being watched anyway.
Once the shirt was open, he slid his arms out of it and laid it neatly beside him. He turned to look at the cut and as he figured it wasnât anything to worry about. He would likely be scarred from the soldering, but that wasnât important. He turned back to look expectantly at the Detective, but stopped.
Gavin was still looking away from him, arms crossed at his chest. Connor noted something else of interest. Gavinâs pulse was elevated. Heâd attributed this to stress and pain as he worked on Gavinâs wounds, but now he wasnât so sure. His eyes could see piloerection forming on the manâs forearms; goosebumps. And the red hue that had been on his face had traveled down his neck to the skin peeking out from the v neck shirt he wore.
âGavin?â Connor asked when the man did nothing. He saw him take a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily, exhaling. Then his eyes turned, focused hard on Connorâs and faltered. âIs everything okay?â
âYeah. Just a little light headed from blood loss. Iâll be fine.â Gavin responded. But when he moved towards Connor, he caught a downward glance that became fixated on his thirium pump regulator. As if involuntary, Gavinâs hand came out and moved as if to touch it, but recoiled after a moment. As if he didnât realize he was doing it.
The static intensified and made Connorâs skin prickle.
âAre you sure youâre okay Gavin? The wound is superficial and can wait if youâd like to sit down.â Connor offered, completely confused by this sudden change in demeanor. The whole time his cat perched, unbothered and suddenly unnoticed by Gavin as his eyes focused on Connorâs bare torso. Connor saw the manâs eyes dilate.
Gavin moved closer, setting the kit to one side of Connorâs hip, then taking his hand in his own to position Connorâs arm where it would be easiest to work on it. All Connor could do was watch, oddly fascinated by whatever phenomena was taking over the Detective and possiblyâŚhimself. This was new and fascinating to him. Exciting, even.
At one point, not wanting to focus so much of his attention on Gavin, Connor lifted his hand and stroked the back end of the cat as it purred happily. He saw Gavinâs eyes glance towards his hand, stiffening slightly until he realized its destination. He shook his head, blinking with a short breath as he set back to task.
âOkay. That should do it. Grip my hand.â Gavin said as he lifted his hand in front of him. Not in a handshake, but in fully open palm in front of Connor. He pressed his open palm to Gavinâs, entwined their fingers and gripped. âNo malfunctions or weakness?â
âNo. It feels just fine, actually. Thank you.â Connor replied genuinely, but Gavin was not quick to release his hand. Connor eyed him, that curiosity itching so much to be scratched. What was this? He felt his own thirium pump shift, more static. This was having a physical effect on him he could not place, the longer Gavin held his hand like that. âGavin?â
In an instant, he hand let his go and he turned back to the table to place everything back into the kit.
âYou should be good now. Probably best if you left. I should get some rest.â Gavin said quickly, but something else caught Connorâs attention as Gavin turned his back on him. Blood on the back of the Detectiveâs shirt. Another wound he hadnât seen.
âGavin. Youâre still injured.â Connor said as he hopped down off the counter and walked over to him. He felt Gavin tense as he took the rim of the neckline on his shirt and pulled it down a bit.
âItâs okay. I can do it.â Gavin said quickly.
âItâs on your back. You canât reach there. Take off your shirt and Iâll get it for you.â Connor offered. When Gavin didnât move, he added âAs soon as I make sure itâs nothing bad I will leave. You agreed to this earlier, remember?â
Gavin sighed, lifted his hands to gently remove the cat from his shoulders. He sat it onto the floor where it remained, staring up at them as if disappointed to no longer be a part of the situation. Then, begrudgingly, Gavin put his hands to the hem of his shirt and tugged upwards. For a moment, Connor caught the flash of something blue glint as it moved at the base of Gavinâs neck, then he realized that it was an LED. Unmistakably, his LED.
Gavinâs eyes followed his no doubt startled looking ones to the necklace at his chest and realization dawned there as he turned away, scrambling to get back into the shirt. Maybe hoping Connor didnât notice?
âGavinâŚâ Connor began, but Gavin just started walking away from him. Without thought, he pursued the man as he entered his bedroom off the living room. Gavin tried to close the door, but Connor pushed it open easily as Gavin stumbled backwards. âIs that my LED?â
âItâs not what you think.â Gavin said quickly as he stood by the bed, arm out as if Connor might punch him. But Connor didnât feel anger. He didnât know what to feel, because he didnât know why a part of him was hanging around Gavin Reedâs neck.
âIs that my LED?â Connor asked again. âLet me see it.â
He stepped forward, hand outstretched to pull at the leather straps that held it up, but Gavin smacked his hand away. That startled him, but did not stop his pursuit. Gavin grabbed at his hands, trying to prevent him from seeing it again and Connor found himself struggling with the Detective, being pulled towards him, hitting the bed and straddling over Gavin as he yanked the manâs shirt down. It was his LED, still glowing a dim blue as it pulsated against Gavinâs chest as his heart rate elevated quickly.
Gavin was breathing heavily and that red hue was more apparent on his chest as Connor held the shirt collar open. Gavinâs eyes were lidded and suddenly Connor realized something. Like all the puzzle pieces were falling into place.
âYou-â He began, but Gavin leaned up quickly and pressed his lips against his. Connorâs eyes widened, unsure of what to do, but finding himself intrigued. Fascinated. He could analyze the alcohol still left on Gavinâs tongue as it ghosted between his lips. His body temperature peaked, the open eyes watching him fully dilated and a scent lingered between them, coming from the Detectiveâs skin. Gavin took his bottom lip between his own and tugged. Connor felt something at this, but could not define it and that only made him pursue it more.
Visit the lovely LukeLemon-Art:
vaporwave
blakekathryn
jbbartram-illu
areudirty
