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Call It What You Want

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His skin was soft underneath Gavin's callused hands and rough finger tips. Warm and flushed blue, everything that he'd expected and more. Running a thumb over a plump bottom lip, Gavin felt himself exhale, the action mimicked by the beautiful creature he was holding onto. Stunning doe brown eyes stared up at him, so trusting when he deserved none of it. It was a look Gavin hadn't gotten in a long time, especially not from a piece of perfection like this one.

And God was he perfect.

Too perfect. Gavin hated him for it, yet he couldn't ever look away. He was everything Gavin wanted and everything he hated all wrapped up in one complicated little puzzle. It was torture.

"Mine." Gavin ran his hand slowly down the other's cheek, to the curve of his neck and held on. Firm, but gentle, thumb resting on his Adams apple, feeling the android swallow. This creature had been made for him, every piece of him designed to resonate with every fiber in Gavin's body, and it was frustrating, confusing, and absolutely enthralling. His grip tightened and the breath caught in his captive's throat; surprised.

"Mine." Gavin repeated, absolution running hot in his veins, his eyes, a natural blue, bore holes in brown.

"Yours." His voice was like music to Gavin's ears, and the words whispered were exactly what he wanted to hear. The perfect tone, the perfect inflection. "Forever yours, Gavin." His name running off those lips was a high no street drug could mimic.

Wet. Rough. It was distracting. Soft, hard wetness on his cheek, like sandpaper, and Gavin winced. "Stop." It was a command that fell on deaf ears. He moved his hand, to push that face away from his cheek but that tongue kept touching him, and it wasn't arousing any more. "Connor stop."


Why the fuck was-

Gavin jerked awake, the loud buzz of his alarm clock coupled with the added beep of an incoming text message and the nasty wet tongue of a cat rough against his cheek, all forcing him back into consciousness way too fast. He was awake in seconds, and it wasn't the way he'd have liked to wake up. Gavin simultaneously pushed the Maine Coon away from him and slapped the bedside table looking for his phone, swiping the alarm to shut it off. "Gil, what the fuck." The cat reacted about as well as he ever did and leapt off of Gavin's bed, tail high, leaving the Detective to collect his thoughts.


From the floor, Gilbert meowed loudly again and Gavin heard the little paw thumps as he left the room. It was a clear request that Gavin needed to get up and feed him. Fucking needy cat.

Instead of getting up and getting ready for the day, Gavin chose to lay there in his tangle of sheets, staring at the fuzzy ceiling above him. The remnants of his dream were fading fast, but one key detail always remained: Connor. The android sent by fucking Cyberlife. The deviant hunter turned deviant. Gavin's fucking wet dream since he was 8 (okay that was probably an exaggeration). It wasn't just a problem because Gavin hated androids; hated them with all the fibers in his body that were capable of harboring hatred, it was a problem because Connor was gone. Sort of. He hadn't really asked about it save for the one day Hank had shown up late and alone, and he'd been told that Connor was helping Jericho. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Connor had left and that should have made Gavin happy. The temptation was gone, didn't walk by his desk all the time, couldn't distract him when he spoke. Everything was back to normal at the Detroit PD.

Except Gavin woke up like /this/ most mornings. Wanting, and he hated it.
The cat needed food, but that was going to have to wait because Gavin needed a shower. A cold one. He dragged himself out of bed, tossing the discarded comforter back onto the matress and shuffled through the hazy apartment all the way to the bathroom, one arm sliding against the wall to keep himself steady. Once inside, he turned on the water in the shower and let it warm up for a bit while he took a piss before stepping in. The routine was all that kept him moving. Getting out of bed, getting in the shower, relieving some of the built up tension, and climbing back out. Gavin ruffled a towel through his hair on his way back to his bedroom, grabbing the glasses on the bedside table so he could find a decent pair of jeans to wear.

Once dressed, Gavin grabbed his phone now that he could actually focus and read the messages on it. Two, from both Tina and Chris. Both, expressing concern. 'Did he know' 'Had he heard' 'Is he coming to work it's important' 'Brace yourself' like, could they get any more cryptic?

Gavin didn't bother answering either of his friends, shoving his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and leaving the room. Whatever they were going on about, he could deal with when he got to the precinct. Right now though, Gil sounded absolutely devastated in the kitchen and Gavin had to stop the howling before his neighbours started bitching about the noise. The cat had a pair of lungs on him, that was for sure.

"For fuck's sake, Gilbert the bowl is practically full."

The cat, a big, grey, fluffy, regal looking Maine Coon sat in all his dignified glory in front of the food dish in question, a small portion right in the middle had been eaten, and the bottom of the bowl was showing. Obviously the cat was starving. Meowing again for emphasis, Gilbert started up at Gavin, tail flicking lazily against the linoleum of the kitchen floor until finally Gavin bent down and shook the bowl, evening out the food surface and successfully saving the poor feline from starvation. Gil stoped howling and started snacking, one pellet at a time like the dainty prince he knew he was. Honestly, whoever said cats were low maintenance had never owned a Maine Coon before. Bitchy, needy, and stuck up. Gavin loved him.

Cat crisis averted, and clock ticking ever closer to 9am, Gavin stalked to the bathroom to finish preening. He ruffled a hand through his hair, attempting to tame it at least a little bit before staring down his reflection, black framed glasses sitting snug against his nose. 2039 and they still hadn't invented permanent contact lenses. Surgery, yes, but not lenses. At the very least, he could buy contacts that changed eye colour. Gavin looked too much like his half-brother with his natural blue eyes, and the last thing he wanted was for everyone to know that he was actually related to that fucker.

Sliding the glasses off his face and tossing them onto the counter, Gavin took a minute to slip the pair of contacts in his eyes, blinking a few times to get them set right so he could see. Deep grey irises stared back through the mirror, all traces of blue and the familial bonds that went with them, gone.

At his feet, Gilbert purred, and Gavin had to step over the cat to get out of the bathroom. Tail held high, the Maine Coon padded after him, chirping like he was holding a conversation. Gavin had his coffee pot on a timer and it was ready for him in the kitchen as he passed by, grabbing the mug and heading for the door. Gil was still on his heels as he grabbed his leather jacket from the rack by the door, and the cat was outside as soon as the front door was open. "At least you have a social life." Gavin followed after his cat as it padded down the hallway of the apartment complex he lived in, not at all concerned. Gilbert took off as he pleased, and always came home because he knew where the food was. And, Gavin liked to think that the cat liked him. Who really knew though, because cats were jerks.

That, incidentally, was the best part of his day.

The texts he'd gotten from Tina and Chris had been warnings, warnings that Gavin hadn't heeded until it was too late. He walked into the precinct, drinking his coffee like any other day at the office, and ran right into an Android he hadn't thought he'd see in person ever again. The memory of his morning dream was still fresh, and for a second, Gavin froze like a deer caught in a cars headlights. He could feel his ears fucking burning and everyone in the area was watching him, as if they were waiting for him to blow up. Hank stood by Connor, one foot on the steps up to Fowler's office like they'd been headed that way before Gavin interrupted them, and Connor.

Beautiful, perfect-in-every-way Connor, stared right at him and Gavin could not stay focused on his eyes because there was too much to look at that he hadn't realized he'd missed. The entire station was eerily silent, anticipating the nuclear explosion that was Gavin Reed, and here he was, completely unable to deliver because he was so fucking glad to see the Android again that he'd forgotten to explode as was expected.

"Detective Reed."

The world came back to him in a rush of sound and movement, and Gavin blinked before growling. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." With that, he turned around and stalked to his desk, dropped into his chair and chugged the rest of his coffee to hide the fact that he couldn't breath properly.

Connor was back.