#honnor

Are yall sad the dbh stream is over? I am :( hopefully this fills the void a bit 💙

Chapter 3: Are all the good times getting gone?

Fandom: Detroit Become Human Ships: Hank x Connor x Gavin Rating: Explicit, 🔞Sexual content🔞 Tags: The Eden Club Sequel fic, Consensual Sex Worker Connor, Polycule dynamics, Porn With Plot, Evil Kamski, Drama, Funny, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Threesome - M/M/M, Semi public sex, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings/Twins Preview:

“Mandatory ANGER MANAGEMENT meetings? You’re FUCKING KIDDING right?!”

“Not really helping your CASE here HANK,” Fowler exclaims, frustration of his own close to boiling over. 

“Jeffery what the fuck’s going on huh? Did I piss you off or something? Why are you taking his side? You haven't even heard what I have to say!”

“You punched a subordinate officer Hank!”

Which, is true, but-

“I punched an asshole who was shit-talking an ex-employee on the clock! What happened to due process huh? There were two other people in that room! If you wanted the real story you could have asked either of them!”

“Detective Reed and Officer Chen were in the room,” Fowler scoffs dismissively. “Do you really think either of them can be considered bipartisan witnesses?”

Hank can feel the vein that rests between his forehead about to explode. This can’t really be happening right? Did he slip on the ice out front and knock himself unconscious just to wake up in Bizarro World? 

“What happened with Reynolds’ android case at the Eden club?” 

Hank doesn't know why his instinct demands that as the first line of questioning, but it proves, as always, to be the right one, because Jeff's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“...What case at the Eden Club?”

[its always free to read my stuff! but tips, coffee, and comments do in fact help me work faster!]

Chapter 15 - The Truth Cometh Out

Hank had been quick to leave the car. He had been quick to dart inside his house with a mumbled goodbye. He had been quick to try to take refuge from the way Connor had looked at him, no mistake that he had something on his mind.

But not quick enough.

He hadn’t even made it past the coffee table in front of his couch when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

The lieutenant was hardly in the mood, aching and exhausted, but it wasn’t like he could just ignore his partner.

There was always another window Connor could kick in if he was so inclined.

Hank shuffled – trudged, more accurately – to the door, no hurry to his pace. His hand hesitated on the metal knob for just a moment before he revealed himself, lips pursed and eyes heavy.

“Lieutenant, may I come in for a moment?” Connor asked. He stood straight as an arrow, hands clasped in front of him, and head cocked to the side. His well quaffed hair was a bit ruffled, had been since Hank first saw him that early morning, and the older man couldn’t help but find it endearing to have Connor not so put together.

Hank stepped back, offering a lazy gesture into his living room.

“Thank you,” Connor nodded, politely, as he took a place beside the couch, not moving to sit. He did greet Sumo, though, with a gentle pat on the head.

Hank didn’t sit either. Instead, he shuffled from foot to foot under the younger man’s fixed gaze, “Uh, well? What’s up?”

“I wanted to check on you… I am worried about you, Lieutenant,” Connor confessed, hands gesturing weakly as if working to conjure the right words. By the frown that settled on his lips, better words than he’d managed.

Hank scoffed, looking away. He didn’t need to take this. “Don’t patronize me, Rkay,” he said, voice a low growl as he stalked to the kitchen.

“I’m not,” Connor insisted, trailing after.

“Bullshit,” Hank barked, shoulders curling in on himself.

“I am worried! Would you not be if you found me as I found you?”

The older man paused, his hand falling atop his dining table.

Would he be? Yes, of course. How could he not be? This was what they were trained to look out for: people who were dangers to themselves and others. It was their job to help them. But this was different. This was about him. It was Hank’s responsibility to look after others not to be looked after.

The lieutenant glanced over his shoulder at Connor who had faltered, too, in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “I, God, what do you want me to say?” He asked, the words barely leaving his lips. He turned to face Connor more fully, “Do you want me to vow to get help or somethin’?”

Connor inched nearer, “I want you to feel comfortable asking for help when you need it. I want you to feel comfortable understanding this is not a burden you need to bare alone anymore.”

Hank lowered himself into his usual chair, a hand settling across his face to ease the tension in his temples. “And you think I should be coming to you for that?”

Connor shrugged, taking the chair opposite. “You can. Or you could turn to a professional if that would make you more comfortable.” The detective looked away, his eyes finding the gun laid out in the corner. He shook his head. “As I said in the car, though, I understand more than most what you’re going through. So, if that’s… helpful. I’m here.”

Hank shook his head, a brow raised in disbelief. “I don’t think you do… You want me to be honest, want me to explain myself? Wanna understand why a drink is as easy for me to swallow as a breath of air?”

Connor leaned in somber but rapt in Hank’s bitter transparency. He seemed on the verge of interrupting, in insisting he hadn’t meant to pry, but his lips stayed just barely parted – unspeaking.

“I don’t have the guts to just pull the trigger, so I kill myself a little every day,” Hank’s eyes strayed to the table, to his hand that held no drink to take the edge off his words. “That’s probably difficult for you to understand, huh, Connor? You have your whole life ahead of you, but with the path I’m on… Who knows? I guess there’s some comfort in that for me.”

The detective stared a long while at Hank with a gaze inescapable. Those brown eyes, big and vast in depth, seemed to be searching for something. Connor’s pale skin caught the light that trickled in from the windows, and his right eye lit up like a pool of honey within the ray. His brows were furrowed, lips still parted, but his emotions were unreadable.

Part of Hank wanted Connor to laugh at him, tell him he was a stupid, cynical old man and just leave – the part of him that thought punishment was all that was fitting for his lowly self. Another part wanted him to say it would be okay, that the sky is always darkest before the dawn. To inspire hope.

Hank had not expected, had not wanted, the response that greeted him.

Connor’s eyes fell to the floor. To that damned gun. “I understand. Perhaps, a drink isn’t my vice… Perhaps, I don’t have the patience to let death simply run its coarse with an ushering of help… But I understand.”

Hank could tell, despite the level manner of the younger man’s voice, that the words were coming through a choked throat, that walls were actively being climbed over to admit this truth.

“When the… The accident occurred it was like all of the times I – uh, how’d you put it – ‘didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger’ were mocking me. As if the universe was saying, ‘if you had look what could’ve been avoided.’” Connor remarked, bitterly, a nauseating smile on his lips. His eyes flickered up to the ceiling and the faintest glitter of tears could be seen before he shook his head. “If I hadn’t been… Ya know,” he gestured to himself, the world alive floating in the air but just out of reach of that which could be vocalized, “Then that car would’ve just been a reckless hunk of metal on the road, I wouldn’t have become a projectile weak to the interception of their momentum… No missile coming for you. If I hadn’t been, that driver wouldn’t have hit me… and I wouldn’t have hit you.”

“What?” It was the first thought Hank had. It was the first thing Hank said. Hardly eloquent but there were no other words rushing to his mind, to his mouth more pressing.

Connor met Hank’s eyes. “What?” His voice was soft, a shell of itself.

“W-what did you say?” Hank murmured, his voice, too, just an echo. It swam in his ears, distant as he spoke, a heat rising to his skin. “The car… The car that hit you?”

The detective nodded, his forehead taut in the faintest of confused wrinkles, “Yes, the car that hit me and sent me into your lane… Had I not been there it likely would’ve just continued recklessly speeding without interception–”

Hank stood abruptly, the sound of his chair scraping the tiled floor effectively shutting up his partner. “There was another car?” His hands were trembling now, his jaw held tight to keep his teeth from chattering as the adrenaline began to seize him.

Connor’s mouth fell open, doe eyes coming to light as the realization struck him. “You didn’t know?”

Hank ran a hand through his hair, “… No” The word left him like a ghost in the night, faint and easily blamed on one’s own misconception.

It was the detective’s turn to stand, although it was clear he didn’t know what to do with his new residence upon his feet. His hands were trapped partly extended, but too afraid to make contact with the lieutenant.

Hank couldn’t decide if it was better that Connor kept his distance. Would he appreciate a sympathetic touch? Their last hug had hardly been on the best of terms, but it had been… Soothing?

“I always assumed you knew. I always thought you just…” Connor bit his lip, his arms settling uncomfortably at his sides.

Hank looked down at Connor’s troubled face, the way his cheeks had grown rosy with an emotional flush. “That I simply blamed you for being the car that hit us?” He supplied, not daring to look away from his partner’s eyes.

Connor huffed out a wet sigh, his eyes still tinged with moisture as he tried to hold Hank’s gaze. He tipped his head in the slightest nod, but it was more than enough.

Hank recoiled, taking in the weight of all he’d been presented with. “I only knew what you looked like because you approached me at the hospital. I went to Fowler to try and get more information, but he said your name was confidential. Everything was confidential. I never had a reason to believe there was another driver. I never saw one.”

Connor wrapped his arms around himself, “I heard you give your name to the EMTs when they showed up at the crash site… That’s how I was able to identify you, but… I was also barred from any information pertaining to you or the other driver. I tried to go to my former captain and he told me therapy would be a better use for my time.” The younger man offered a smile, but the pain behind it was hardly hidden. “I didn’t have the resources to get information without my captain’s approval, so… I decided he was right.”

“Fowler told me I couldn’t press charges. That the situation was out of his hands… Higher up then I knew. I always thought you had to be someone, or have connections to someone,” Hank admitted.

“Not me. Whoever they are though…” Connor sneered, “They have skirted the consequences for too long.”

The lieutenant shuffled to his fridge, prying a beer from within. “That’s a nice sentiment, kid–” Hank stopped in his tracks as he looked back to Connor, those brown eyes piercing, “I mean, Connor… But if he’s evaded accountability for three years what’s gonna change that now?”

Connor dug into his pant pocket, his jaw set sharp. “We are,” he said, surely, presenting a black USB drive to the older man.

“What’s… On it?” Hank asked, eyeing the gadget suspiciously as if it were a spider in the younger man’s slender palm.

“CCTV footage of our accident. The other car is captured clear as day… We could do something about this. We could get the justice that should have been given to us in the first place.” Connor’s eyes flickered from the drive to Hank’s, desperate and shy. “That should’ve been given to Cole.”

Hank bit his lip, swallowing thickly to keep himself from allowing a weak, blubbering croak to escape him at the notion that there could be some semblance of justice for his baby boy. Real justice. He placed the unopened beer bottle on the dining table, allowing himself to reach out and accept the key to their fate. His fingers skimmed Connor’s palm, cold as ice – a tell the detective was far more nervous than he’d let on.

“I… I wished I’d known it wasn’t you,” the words a breath in the space between them.

Connor shifted under the pressure of Hank’s gaze, but his eyes stayed fixed widely on the lieutenant. He whispered back, “I still wish I wasn’t on the road.”

Hank didn’t remove his hand despite the USB enveloped in his grasp, allowing his warm, thick fingers to continue to graze the chilled touch of the younger man’s palm. His gaze fell, head wilting with the grit of his teeth. “I wouldn’t want you off the road if it meant you’d had the guts to pull the trigger.”

The brunet sniffled, meekly, his voice unsteady, “I would be remorseful to see something happen to you, Lieutenant. Whether it be due to you pulling the trigger or indulging in ways to hurry your demise.”

Hank dared himself to look ahead, to meet his partner’s autumn stare.

The pink frame around those eyes, the glossy completion ready to break, those lips kept from trembling by the grasp of teeth were all a beautiful painting of unabashed emotion. A bravery in their admission.

Hankcon:

Connor likes Hank's titties. No headcanon just facts.

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Reed900:

Do I- do I even have to explain?

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Simarkus:

They started out as a bromance- Now its bromance without the B

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Luther x Kara:

Gentle giant luther and bad bitch Kara-

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Elijah Kamski x Chloe

Kamski is into pegging. No, I didnt stutter.

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Traci x Traci:

I thought they were Americans-

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Tina x Girlfriend(??):