Thread by @FastHankconSmut

✨Angst, fluff, nsfw, sad maybe? sick Sumo✨

Kind of rambling snippets.
*Very* disjointed until the love finally happens

Sort of deals with previous Amanda threads where she’s good

Hank/Connor/60

——- -
“He frowns a lot.”

“He does.”

“I don’t think he’s happy.”

“I dunno...”

So, now what? They’re just stuck with someone who’d rather sink himself to the bottom of a lake- who they’d *shot* *in* *the* *head*- with nowhere else to go?

This was not the favor Connor was hoping Amanda would ask of him. He was extremely unsettled she had.

After all the progress they’d made, after what this android had done to him and Hank, she was asking *this* of him?

He was the most advanced model out there, Connor coming in second, and Amanda could use him- Connor hoped not selfishly.

But, he couldn’t help chalking this special treatment up to him being her lapdog- and the only thing keeping him from the scrapper. He was obedient to her, at least that’s how Connor remembered of him before.

That was clearly not the case anymore.
—— — -

Hank didn’t know when things had changed, but Connor noticed it first.

“He’s been entering standby a lot more often, lately.”

“Does that mean he’s tired or something?”

“It doesn’t work that way. He should be recalibrating fine in the first cycle. He should use less energy than me, too.”

“Alright. So, he’s laying around a lot more, then. What does that mean?”

“It’s a sign of depression.”

Like in humans.
—— —- -

60, as they’ve taken to calling him, stops using sleep mode as often. It’s replaced by distant staring, as he sits listlessly in the living room.

The shattered plastimetal in his forehead, almost unnoticeable if Connor and Hank didn’t know what they’d *done* to him there, is a thing of interest to him. He pulls his skin away and fingers the slight dent, traces the cracks that run downward.

They didn’t give him another skeleton, and Connor can’t help but worry now that Amanda *does* have selfish intentions.
—- ——- —
60 becomes awful company. The dead eyes and silent sitting end when he begins to open his mouth.

He’s a crude fucker, absolutely graceless, and on *purpose*. Hank bites the bullet, not as well as Connor, but he manages. He won’t be here forever, and then they’ll be rid of him. Then things will go back to normal.

Then they can go back to ‘being together’.
—— —- -

60 doesn’t spend time with them and that’s fine. No one has any interest in crossing each other’s paths. It’s as if Connor and Hank live on entirely different sides of the house than he does.

This excludes Sumo.

Interestingly, 60 has taken a liking to the big dog.

Not at first, and not without a bit of a stir - to put it nicely. Connor didn’t want him around the St. Bernard after 60 caught him chewing his shoes. They were like Connor’s, but the scent wasn’t quite the same.

Something is different about him, though they seem near identical to the big beast, and Sumo doesn’t know what to do with this information. What his carnal instincts tell him, is to chew. Mark. Destroy. Explore-with his teeth.

Connor was nearly reaching for his gun at that moment when 60 had found him. It didn’t last, but Connor stayed alert.

The next time 60 gave Sumo any notice, it was with a slow, thorough pet after much staring. Judging the texture between his nails of soft, curling hair.

And, also, honestly trying to decide what the point of him was.

What were pets? Why have them? To show affection to? To *receive* affection from? 60 didn’t know the meaning of either, and judged it pointless.

At least at first.
—- ———- -

He’s been here longer than they had prepared for. Not that they had prepared for any of it.

It’s getting harder to wait, and finally, Connor breaks. Hank thought he might. He’s been giving him ‘the eyes’ for a few days now, but they’ve gotten a lot less subtle. Hank gives in.

60, confused about why he’s been given a second chance after he failed, about why these two of all the people he could be stuck with have let him into their house, about what the point of having a dog was or drinking coffee with a shot of thirium in it-

was confused about this, too.

Not really what it was. He knew what sex was, and that couples of all different sexes and genders had it. It confused why *they* had it, though. With each other.