consider connor in a virgin killer sweater, pls and thank :D
Androids were not supposed to have sleepovers.
But Markus insisted, said it brought them closer to the human experience, which in itself taught them to be more themselves. Confusing? Markus called it philosophical. Something about the deep conscious and socialisation. About "understanding the other helps you understand yourself". Connor stopped listening mid-way because he was stuck trying to search up keywords while the conversation had already moved on.
So, when Markus reminded him of their sleepover meeting a week after, Connor’s eyes blew wide open. Sleepover, who?
Turns out he missed more than just a conversation. He missed a whole planned meeting.
He went along with it out of embarrassment and because he could not say no -- nobody out of their right mind could say no -- to Markus. So, they decided to hold the sleepover at Markus' place, a small apartment he rented out with the money he earned through his political work.
Connor showed up last second, straight back from a late-night perp hunt that almost had him cancel, drenched to the bone with a storm unleashing outside.
He had exactly an hour and half delay when he came knocking on the apartment door, readying himself for the apology.
To his surprise, Markus was smiling from cheek to cheek, welcoming him with wide arms.
"You're soaking wet! Come in, quick."
Connor didn't have the chance to respond when Markus' hand was seizing him by the shoulder and leading him inside the apartment. They walked past the cozy living room and pushed the first door to the left, leading them into what he recognized as Markus' bedroom.
"The wardrobe's to your right. Take anything you want and drop the wet clothes in the basket. I'll take care of them tomorrow before you’re back to work."
With a friendly smile, Markus clicked the door shut and left Connor standing in the middle of the bedroom, trying to figure out what he just put himself in the middle of.
He decided to strip down to his underwear before the water dripped into the carpet. He tossed the wet clothes in the basket, as suggested, and went peering inside the wardrobe. Looking into Markus' clothes. Touching the fabric. Fiddling with the hem of a particularly soft one.
He pulled out a snow white sweater. The state of the wool was brand new, nearly unworn. Connor liked it.
There was only one issue. The sweater was an extra large size.
But well, what harm could it do?
Markus' heart thumped, thumped, thumped. It wouldn't calm down. Not with Connor inside his apartment. Inside his bedroom. Looking into his clothes. The thrill twisted his stomach, made him feel all kinds of giddy, almost too much to handle.
He decided to distract himself. He sat on the couch and pulled a book from the shelf. Today was not about his guilty desires, nor his unspoken feelings. No. Today was about Connor. Connor who had little to no time relaxing in the past five weeks. Constantly on the job. On the call. On the run. Hank had asked Markus to get him as far away from it as possible. To have him take a break before he burned out. And Markus had just the perfect plan.
A sleepover. That way, he could insure Connor was not working or thinking about work. Not when Markus was there, ready to distract him.
And maybe, probably, secretly, Markus was desperate for the company.
The bedroom door clicked open and Markus lost his thread of thoughts. Within the next five seconds, his system ceased functioning. Major lag. His processors spammed him with alerts. His artificial heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest.
"I hope this is all right," said Connor, "It's the first thing I found."
Markus knew he was lying. He knew because the sweater Connor was wearing was thrown at the bottom of his wardrobe for a reason: it was massive. One of North's pranks he never really understood.
Connor's hands were tugging at the sides of the sweater that hung a little over his hips. Despite the firmness of his body, what with being a strength-based Android model and all, the sweater's softness contrasted perfectly with his gentle features, bringing out an air of complete innocence Markus wasn't even aware he had.
What delivered the final blow, however, was that Connor wasn't wearing any pants.
Thin, long, well-toned legs stood in full display from the thighs down and Markus could tell he fried a wire before his eyes could reach Connor's bare feet.
Hearing his name being called, Markus turned his head to the other end of the room and pretended to rearrange a perfectly organized bookshelf. It seemed to work, and Connor's feet tapped on the floor, coming over to the living room couch.
"So, what now?" Connor asked with a tilted head. "I remember agreeing to a sleepover, but I don't recall you mentioning the details. What do people do at a sleepover? Well, besides sleeping, that is."
Markus cleared his throat, mustered all the courage he had left, and turned to him with an appropriate smile.
"Good question. Why don't you look it up while I go grab us some drinks?"
Markus turned his back to him, ready to sprint to the kitchen just to have a moment to himself. He breathed in. Calm down, Markus. You got this. Just focus on his eyes. His eyes. Nothing else.
He breathed out. All right.
Markus poured them a glass of Thirium each and returned to the living room, where he found Connor sitting with his legs crossed, the sweater fabric stretched over his hips and a hint of his black underwear peeking from underneath. Markus wanted to slap himself. Those are NOT his eyes.
"Netflix and chill," said Connor. Markus squinted.
"Netflix and chill. That's what the majority of the results suggest to do at a sleepover."
Markus placed the drinks on the table, gently, carefully, then sat himself down beside Connor, one hand covering his face.
"Connor, do you even know what Netflix and chill is?"
Connor shrugged and the collar of the sweater fell down, exposing his collarbone. "That means we watch movies and relax, right?"
"Wait, this source says--" Connor paused. "Oh."
There was an awkward silence. Markus wanted to bury himself six feet under and never think about this again.
But then, all of a sudden, Connor said:
Markus lifted up his head so fast his neck cracked. Connor was glancing across the room, legs brought up to his chest, arms circling around them. Looking closely, Markus could see his cheeks were faintly flushed.
"Connor. I don’t think you realize what that means--"
"I don’t think you realized you had a thing for large sweaters."
Their eyes met. Connor was smiling. Markus' cheeks were burning.
“I don’t.” Markus paused, looking down. “But apparently I have a thing for you in a large sweater.”
A chuckle. Markus lifted up his head to Connor grinning.
“Well, that solves it, then.”
They shared a sweet smile and a lingering gaze.
The TV remained turned off for the rest of the night.
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