Quoting my own reply to Miss because I've been thinking a lot about how Connor would feel about moving in with Hank in this fic and how different it is from how Lilacs Connor would feel about it even though he has his own place there too

https://twitter.com/robofingering/status/1573735214228000768

I love writing these different canon-divergent AUs because I can zero in on these little differences in how I think the characters might change if their circumstances were just a little different

His phone buzzes as he tosses the banana peel in the trash; the guy he'd texted earlier, the owner of an electronics shop in the suburbs northwest of town, has all but one of the parts he needs in stock and thinks he can get his hands on the last one in the next couple days. Hank sends his thanks, and after a few minutes of small talk--never his strongest skill, but the shop drives a lot of specialty work his way, so keeping things friendly always pays off--he promises to swing by later in the week to pick up the parts and see if there's anything new

I've had a bunch of new folks following me in the past few days, howdy!
A few things: PLEASE do not follow this account if you are underage. I am an adult in my late 30s, most of the fic I write is explicit, I don't want to engage with people who aren't adults. (many of y'all know this but in my non-fandom life I am a sex educator for teens/young adults and I value maintaining rock solid boundaries in this area!! Having this as an adults-only space is really important to me. This is also why I rarely talk about my own sex life on here.)

Hello, friends, I'm starting a new thread! 💕
I'm trying a couple new things with this one, which is both exciting and a little intimidating.
THIS time I know better than to say "oh this one will be real short" because we all know what happens when I say that at the beginning. Tucked into a cramped room in the basement of the Detroit Police Department, sitting at a desk with a computer so old he can barely interface with it, Connor wonders when it was that he last felt the hope, the excitement the android revolution had stirred in him.
In the weeks

A Kiss Day thread! 😘
Hank's staring blankly at the book in his hands, wondering if he should just put it down and watch tv instead of pretending he's able to focus enough to make sense of the words, when he hears the rattle of Connor's key in the door.
"You're home earlier than I expected," he says.
Connor greets him with a brittle, forced smile. "Things didn't go as planned, I'm afraid. He--I think the two of us had very different expectations for the evening."
"Are you okay?" Hank sets the book aside and gestures to the couch. "You want to talk

🌸[new thread, but this is the continuation of Lilacs in Bloom!]🌸

Hank shifts into wakefulness slowly, as if surfacing from a deep dive in dark, cool water. He's aware of warmth and a weight on the mattress beside him, and wonders for a moment if Sumo had nosed the bedroom door open and jumped on the bed in the early morning. But then the weight shifts beside him, and a hand settles on his back, rubbing slow circles over his shoulderblade.
"Connor?" Hank's mind is fuzzy, still heavy with sleep, but he instinctually leans into the touch. "Is it morning

Now seems like a nice time to reflect on what I've written this past year! ✨ (I could pretend I'm going to do a one answer per like thing but I will most likely just answer as I have free time today no matter how many likes I get!!!) 1) I'm always drawn to romance where I can mix some big feelings and introspective moments with sex...hot-n-sweet isn't just a delicious wing sauce, it's my general writing philosophy

Wish me luck friends, while cleaning the shower yesterday and scrubbing at a mildewy area of the caulk I broke the caulk entirely so now I gotta run out and buy more caulk/strip the old shit out/clean under it/dry and re-caulk the shower today so we can take showers tomorrow Fun fact: in the last place I lived we had two bathrooms, and we showered in the basement for something like six months to put off recaulking the main shower because neither of us knew how to do it and we were anxious about messing up...with one bathroom I just gotta do it

Hank does his best to focus on the story, not on how it feels to have Connor leaning against him like he's drawing comfort from it. Not on how much he wants to turn and press a kiss to the crown of his head. "Daniel, was he the android?"
"He was their housekeeper," Connor says gaze distant and unfocused as he stares out over the water. "He took care of Emma, every day. Helped her with her homework. Played any game she wanted. He--"
Connor shakes his head and grips the railing, falling silent for a moment.
"He loved her," he says, bitterly. "And it

Time to start a new thread! This follows the events of the short fic Lilacs in Bloom I wrote earlier this year, which can be read here: archiveofourown.org/works/21327049… so if you haven't read it before you may want to do that first!
🌸🌸🌸 🌸🌸🌸
The sprig of lilacs on Hank's desk wilts before he makes it back to the garden again; he isn't sure if it's because he forgot to change the water after the first day or if it's because they don't last long once they're cut.
Even so, he enjoys them for the few days he can;

"Hank?" The voice on the other end of the call was wary, as if braced for bad news; Hank figured he'd earned that.
"Yeah," he said, and while he'd practiced what he was going to say beforehand, he found his mind a complete blank.
"You there?"
"Yeah," he repeated. "Hi, Maureen." "Are you--is everything okay?"
Hank heard a low, murmured question in the background, and Maureen's muffled reply including the words "Hank," "I have no idea," and "I hope not."
"Everything's all right," he said, loud enough to cut through whatever conversation was happening.

You ever think about the first time Connor sees Hank lounging around the house in old soft sweatpants with nothing underneath, realizes he can see the shape of his dick in great detail, and diverts all his processing power to a detailed scan for future study I like the idea that Connor very quickly knows he likes Hank, that he wants to be around him and know him better, and that he *definitely* wants Hank to hug him again. As much as possible. He can't help but want to touch Hank, to be as close to him as possible. To be held by him.

"Any time you want," Hank says, when Connor pulls away. "This kissing booth's always open, as far as you're concerned."
Hank figures once he sits down he won't want to get up again for a while, so he rummages in the fridge for some leftovers and parks his ass next to Connor on the couch for the rest of the evening. They settle back into their comfortable groove from earlier, with Connor knitting and Hank either reading or half-watching tv while he pets Connor's feet propped in his lap. It still feels unreal, but the thought that this might eventually

Connor had wanted to see the stars. He could easily access star charts and high-resolution images from observatories all over the world, but it didn't feel the same as he imagined it would to watch the night sky himself.
Of course, it wasn't possible to see much from Detroit. "You'll never see much around here," Hank said, when Connor mentioned wanting to stargaze. Light pollution had steadily increased over the previous decades, and even though Connor's eyesight was more sensitive than most humans', he couldn't make out much more than the brightest

Hank talks himself out of sending the message a half-dozen times, deleting it as soon as he's finished writing it out. Connor just saved the fucking day, he thinks. He's celebrating, or planning what comes next. He's with his people. He doesn't want to hear from me.
Still, he thinks about the brief moment they shared before Connor departed the tower with a small army of newly-deviated androids to meet with Markus and his followers. Everything was moving so quickly, and they'd only had a minute together, as Hank caught his breath and tried not to

together later tonight. If I make a decision today I can probably make an appointment for this week." He gives Hank a wink.

🆒hell yes, here are some opinions
❎I don't want my preferences to influence your decision
🆗I'll look at options with you, but no input on final choice "It just feels like a dick move, to try and influence your decision," Hank says with a grimace. "Like if I told you to dye your hair because I had a preference for a different color--which I don't, by the way, so don't get any ideas."
"I don't see it that way," Connor says. "I'm

if he's around someone and conversation dies out, like he's disappointing them by not having anything to say. Like he needs to apologize for not filling that space with something.
There are times when a silence between people feels like a void he has to yell into or it'll swallow up everything in the room. With Connor, it just feels intimate. A way to share space even if they don't have thoughts to share with each other.
Another way that having Connor around hurts sometimes, because it feels like something it's not, but still Hank knows it's precious.

Summers in Detroit are too fucking hot, Hank thinks, on a particularly miserable, humid July night. He remembers them being hot and miserable when he was a kid, especially that summer the a/c broke and his parents couldn't afford to fix it for a month. He'd felt like he was melting every night as he tried to sleep, but he knows it's even hotter now. Just a bit warmer, every year.
Still, Sumo needs to go out; he does better with a real walk at night, not just a snuffle around the yard.
Hank does too, he's realized.
So: as the summer progresses,

Hank tries, he really does, to convince Connor that he doesn't need to make a fuss over his birthday. It's fine.
"You get to be a certain age," he says, "and no one gives a shit about birthdays anymore. Getting older stopped getting fun a few decades back." "Besides, it feels weird when people make a fuss over me, you know? I don't need the attention."
"You like it when *I* make a fuss over you," Connor says. He'd pulled Hank down until his head was in Connor's lap; one hand strokes his hair while the other rests on his chest.

Hank feeling like a super creep thinking about Connor when he jerks off, in the time before he can even entertain the idea Connor might return his feelings, but he can't *quite* keep himself from doing it at all
He only lets himself think about certain things. Connor disrobing for him. Kissing his neck, tracing the patterns of freckles across his shoulders, imagining the sounds he might make. Not chaste fantasies by any means, but he feels less ashamed of these thoughts if he can have some restraint.
But it doesn't last.

Hmmmm when Hank and Connor first get intimate Hank lets Connor initiate sex and take the lead in what they do; he's pretty patient (he never expected to have another sexual partner and is happy to enjoy whatever Connor wants to do) but also thinks it might be nice if Connor can set his own pace for sex and be in control of it. So much of his life he wasn't in control of, and this is an area where Hank's happy to give him free rein. And yeah, it does give him a little extra thrill of feeling desirable when Connor initiates things.