( he counters the comment quickly, though he forgets the comments almost as immediately as he responds.
a few buttons have come undone in juno's efforts and connor feels...strange. he'd initially come to stand next to the bed out of concern as juno's vitals started spiralling out of control, but now connor is kneeling next to him and it seems like there's miles between them still.
( he knows this isn't so. it's actually 3.2 centimetres from his knee to juno's hips.
but it doesn't feel that way. )
connor catches the hand that's grabbing for his fingers and squeezes it briefly in his own. his knuckles brush against juno's throat before he releases his hand, and he moves from barely grazing to gently curling his fingers around juno's neck. he doesn't squeeze, barely even puts pressure to touch, but it's just. there. )
Tell me what you're feeling.
( the request - order? - comes out entirely unprompted. connor doesn't even register the words before he blurts them out, and the hand at juno's chest pulls away only long enough to undo the last few buttons on his shirt. he's still kind of overdressed but he doesn't notice, just stares at juno's exposed skin and then his own.
there's no reflection of connor's past on his skin, no evidence of the wounds he's received or the life he has lived. the scars on juno's skin captivate him, and his hand drops down to run along each scar that he can see. connor's supposed to be perfect, but this-
this seems closer to perfection than anything cyberlife has managed to produce. )
no subject
( he counters the comment quickly, though he forgets the comments almost as immediately as he responds.
a few buttons have come undone in juno's efforts and connor feels...strange. he'd initially come to stand next to the bed out of concern as juno's vitals started spiralling out of control, but now connor is kneeling next to him and it seems like there's miles between them still.
( he knows this isn't so. it's actually 3.2 centimetres from his knee to juno's hips.
but it doesn't feel that way. )
connor catches the hand that's grabbing for his fingers and squeezes it briefly in his own. his knuckles brush against juno's throat before he releases his hand, and he moves from barely grazing to gently curling his fingers around juno's neck. he doesn't squeeze, barely even puts pressure to touch, but it's just. there. )
Tell me what you're feeling.
( the request - order? - comes out entirely unprompted. connor doesn't even register the words before he blurts them out, and the hand at juno's chest pulls away only long enough to undo the last few buttons on his shirt. he's still kind of overdressed but he doesn't notice, just stares at juno's exposed skin and then his own.
there's no reflection of connor's past on his skin, no evidence of the wounds he's received or the life he has lived. the scars on juno's skin captivate him, and his hand drops down to run along each scar that he can see. connor's supposed to be perfect, but this-
this seems closer to perfection than anything cyberlife has managed to produce. )
Do you want me to touch you?