#joshcon

Josh should be angry, he really should.

But when you see someone as strong and capable as Connor crumpled helplessly on the floor after having taken a bullet, it’s quite hard to maintain (righteous) anger. 

The brunet is barking at North to drag Markus away, for Simon and Josh to leave alongside their leader and find safety with the security force that was earlier waiting along the outsides of the venue, now flooding the room and making to subdue the group of humans (and, surprisingly, some androids) opposing their cause.

Josh can’t make himself leave Connor, though, so he sends the others away and skids to his knees beside Connor, turning him over and cradling him. He wonders, distantly, why androids are capable of crying. Likely for the same reason they feel pleasure--for the sick entertainment of their once-masters.

His tears splat onto Connor’s cheeks and slip down quickly, dragging with them a tiny splotch of thirium. Connor has a heavy grimace on his face, and he’s still urging Josh to leave.

But Josh refuses. He hauls Connor up off the floor and hefts him into his arms, Connor’s four inches seeming even wider a margin of size difference when bunched in Josh’s hold.

“I can’t leave you behind,” Josh whispers, taking Connor with him to escape the chaos in the hall.

It’s quite the relief that Cyberlife bequeathed upon them spare parts for the RK800. His thirium is just the same as any of the others’, alongside his pump, but his individual bits and pieces are far too dissimilar to make a hasty replacement from what’s lying around.

“I don’t want to be cumbersome, Josh. I’ll find my way back to you later, but for now, securing your safety is my top priority,”

Josh holds his gaze steadily, fierce and passionate. “What, and work myself up into a short-circuit worrying about whether or not you’re okay, whether or not I’ve lost you? I refuse, Connor. You’re coming with me, dammit, and that’s final,”

Connor wants to argue, but Josh’s glower keeps him silent.

It takes little time for Josh to lose that hardened look, to soften the edges of his expression as he glances down at Connor every now and again. “I just want you to be safe, Connor. I wanna still see you tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that,”

Connor smirks halfheartedly up at him, brushing his fingers against his throat and chest, the former with a lump lodged firmly inside.

“Which romantic medium did you steal that line from?” he teases.

“My thoughts,” Josh admits, corners of his lips quirking just a little.

A pause, then Connor sighs and weaves his fingers with Josh’s, though it makes it just a little more difficult for Josh to hold him.

“You’re cheesy. I love it,”

“I love you,”

“Me too,”