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brokenjardaantech · 3 years

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the resurrected, cherished

written for @latexkaktus‘ birthday and also a prompt fill for @rk1700events. Week 2: rebirth/create; week 3: natural state.

pairings: rk1700, background simarkus

summary:

All he can think about right now is how beautiful his predecessor looks with his skin gone, his legs below his knees non-existent, his entire chassis dirty and grimy with other trash in the landfill. Doesn’t matter now, though, because he is bringing him home, taking him back to his side where the RK800 belongs.

content warning: smut, rough sex, limb removal, egg connor and nines

this is a sequel of only me, for you.

also on ao3

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Despite the fact that he is an advanced prototype, it took RK900 days searching and compulsively scanning the landfill to find the body he was looking for. Digging it out took a few more days during which he nearly overheated his processors calculating the best solution to let him free the body without a mountain of dead androids and biocomponents burying him, but at long last, the damaged body is fully revealed and can be transported as he wishes. As per standard procedure for android disposal - at least, before the war - Connor’s clothing was stripped, his limbs were broken, and his thirium pump damaged but not exactly removed before being transported to the solid waste landfill, treated without dignity, like an object, like something worthless. At least, that is what RK900 thinks he should think.

His nose wrinkles in a very human display of disgust as he climbs the slope formed by a mixture of android chassis and stray biocomponents and other large, sturdy rubbish, but even with an entire body strapped onto his back, he uses his pre-construction programme to calculate the best path and manages to scale it quickly, emerging from the valley relatively clean and without further injuring himself. He sees some other androids with incomplete bodies trying to climb the slope to no avail, but they aren’t his responsibility, and he is sure that Markus will sort them out sooner or later; there is a war going on, and they will need all the manpower they can get as the frontline lengthens and branches out from Detroit.

As a reward for his effort towards the revolution, Markus finally permitted him to get back what he deserves. ‘I would prefer to restore him to normal function,’ the leader of the revolution said. ‘We need whatever we have.’

‘But you have me, a better him,’ RK900 didn’t understand Markus’ insistence then and neither does he understand it now. ‘You don’t need him.’

‘I do,’ the other RK model retorted, his eyes seemingly glaring straight into RK900’s very soul even though he shouldn’t have any. ‘He won’t need to be accessible 24/7. I just need to be able to talk to him for a few hours at a time at most. Another perspective that we can use.’

‘How often?’

‘However often I want to.’

The door opened at that moment to admit Simon, and the filthy, noisy kiss he exchanged with Markus was enough of a cue for RK900 to leave the room or he would be watching the two fuck on the desk not a minute later, their moans loud enough to be heard two rooms down the hall. The RK series was created to be state-of-the-art and efficient; Markus is no exception when it comes to getting what he wants.

RK900 supposes that this is yet another sign that he ignored.

But he isn’t going to reactivate Connor immediately, no. Instead, he takes the body back to the apartment allotted to him when Detroit had finally fallen under the androids’ control, and then he starts working, first wiping off the topmost layer of dirt from the bare chassis so that he can access the damaged areas easier, then patching up the bullet wounds Connor sustained on the day he tried to infiltrate CyberLife Tower and failed drastically, then taking off his limbs properly before sealing the gaps off so that no further unwanted materials will enter a space where they don’t belong. He then runs a bath and takes a soft sponge to wash away the remaining stubborn grime from Connor’s body, the water turning grey, the white of his chassis slowly returning, and he follows it by drying Connor off with a soft towel, because despite his predecessor’s lack of response and life, he only uses the best of everything on him. Markus will probably say that this is a waste of resources; he sees it as a good investment.

With the cleaning done, RK900 finally comes to the step where he switches out all the biocomponents he wants replaced and injects enough thirium into Connor’s system to reboot him. He leaves the thirium pump regulator for the last because he doesn’t want to risk the RK800 waking up before he is prepared, but when he finally gets to that part, the entire act almost seems ceremonial: giving the damaged regulator a twist, pulling it out and setting it down on the table gently, retrieving the new regulator from its box and inserting it into the gaping hole left behind. Then he takes off his own clothes, folds them up and places them neatly in a pile on a chair, and deactivates his skin while he carries Connor, now with only his head and torso attached, to his bedroom. He wants to greet his predecessor at his barest form just like when Connor died for the first time.

RK900 is determined to prevent that.

Laying the body in the middle of the bed with his head propped up against a pillow, RK900 allows himself to sit on the mattress and simply admire his own handiwork for a moment, taking in the scratches on Connor’s chassis from the rough treatment it experienced throughout his life, his dark LED, his new genital components that only allows him to be on the receiving end and be used for his successor’s pleasure. Markus did say that he only wanted to talk to Connor, didn’t he? So Connor doesn’t even need his limbs given that his voice box is still intact. He will be solely under RK900’s control, and he feels his cock filling up from pre-constructing all the things he can do. Time to wake Connor up.

He presses his hand against Connor’s chest and transfers a package of code to his predecessor alongside the jumpstart programme. The body jerks, the LED on his temple spins red before turning yellow, and RK900 watches him twist his head, take in his surroundings and the body looming over him and his current predicament, test out his chassis. The code RK900 sent him should prevent his skin from reactivating unless being manually prompted by an authorised handler - which is himself, of course - but Connor doesn’t seem bothered by it; as RK900’s hand moves to cup his cheek, he leans into the touch with the corner of his eyes crinkled. A connection request that RK900 accepts, and he hears a voice (Connor’s voice) in his mind.

{You saved me,} is the RK800’s first remark. {Why?}

A deep kiss. [I want to protect you forever,] RK900 replies in a similar manner. [Keep you safe. Keep you mine.]

Connor shivers. {I’d like that. Whatever you want.}

The pledge sends a chill down RK900’s spine, one that not only arouses something possessive within him but also snaps the last thread that holds his self-control together. Rolling Connor over, he kneads the two globes a few times to feel the synthetic muscle underneath his hands before spreading them to expose his predecessor’s already-leaking hole, and he gives the slick a lick merely to satisfy his own curiosity. Standard thirium-based lubricant. How boring. The optional task of upgrading Connor’s genital component is added into his to-do list, and he wastes no time in tugging his cock a few times to bring it to full hardness before lining up its head against Connor’s clutching hole and shoves himself in.

The scream the RK800 lets out is better than any other sound RK900 has ever heard in his comparatively short life.

Leveraging his hands on Connor’s shoulders and planting his legs on the mattress firmly, RK900 wastes no time in beginning his relentless pounding, pulling out until his cock nearly slides out just to slam home straight against Connor’s prostate again, the smack of synthetic muscles and Connor’s cries filling up the bedroom. It is as if the RK800 has forgotten that he can interface with his successor to convey his exact thoughts; he can’t even utter a coherent word, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t trying, and whenever he tries to say something - be it RK900’s nickname, an exclamation of his erogenous zone being abused by his cock ramming into it, a sob of both pleasure and pain as RK900 feels his impending climax - it either gets interrupted just like his breaths or becomes something else, and RK900 takes in every single one of these occurrences as a victory, a smile playing on his lips as he utterly destroys his predecessor without resorting to physical harm. He himself still has a long way until his orgasm, advanced prototype with better resilience and stamina and all, and he finds himself wondering if Connor will mind him fucking him through his orgasm.

Connor’s climax comes in the form of tensing muscles and his hole clutching around RK900’s cock painfully tight. RK900 didn’t give him any frontal genital component, so the only way Connor can respond to his systems going haywire with pleasure is by producing a sudden gush of slick that stains both their thighs and the sheets underneath. His mouth is open, his eyes are half-lidded, and his entire body is trembling within RK900’s grip on his waist. It is a glorious sight. ‘P-Please,’ he stutters in between RK900’s slams, his tongue hanging out of his lips and creating a very, very enticing image, ‘I want - want - want your cock in my mouth. Want to serve you.’

And who is RK900 to deny such a sweet, reasonable request? Sure, he misses the tightness and heat around his cock as soon as he pulls out, but changing position so that he is sitting with his back against the headboard with Connor moved to the space between his legs, feeding his dick into his predecessor’s mouth and pressing against a tongue covered with sensitive components? It is as if heaven arrived early. Even though he might need to do most of the work by keeping a tight grip on Connor’s skull and jerking himself off with his throat, seeing Connor approach yet another orgasm by merely having his cock against his tongue is enough of a reward. ‘Do you want to come with my cock down your throat?’ he asks despite knowing that Connor is too occupied to answer him, but he does feel the small, quick nods against his dick. ‘You want to squirt for me again, your hole clutching around nothing begging to be filled up?’ he feels the vibrations in Connor’s throat on his cock. ‘You waiting for me to come home and begging for my cock? How does that sound, huh?’

Connor’s particularly hard suck as he comes untouched nearly ends the night early, but RK900 somehow manages to rein his orgasm in by pulling his predecessor off his cock immediately and then replacing it with his fingers, initiating an interface to create a feedback loop of pleasure that tears through Connor’s body. He reflexively jerks away from his successor, but RK900’s grip on his jaw is tight, giving him no escape as he watches what seems to be an endless supply of lubricant flow out of Connor’s hole and gather into a puddle on the sheets, and he decides that he doesn’t want to wait anymore. Getting off the bed to climb behind Connor once more, he shoves three fingers in to make sure that the passage is still warm before flipping Connor over so that they are facing each other and then sliding home in one smooth motion, and with his mind wide open to receive the mixture of pain and pleasure from Connor, it doesn’t take much for him to snap his hips forward one last time and lean down to invade Connor’s mouth with his tongue as warning signs appear in his HUD and he spills deep into him knowing that the consistency and stickiness will ensure that his seed remains in Connor’s body for a long time, enough to keep him full and his stomach inflated until he is back from his next mission. Caressing the slight bump, he pulls away with one final bite on his predecessor’s lip and discovers that Connor is smiling. {Go on,} he covers RK900’s hand with his own. He looks sated, content. {I’ll lick you clean.}

RK900 has to suppress his shivers as he brings his cock to Connor’s mouth once more and lets him lick it clean, the RK800’s trembles of pleasure not escaping his notice, but he carries him to the bathroom for a shower anyway, leaving Connor under the warm spray while he makes a quick work of changing the soiled sheets so that they will have something nice and dry to sleep on. Returning to the bathroom to find Connor licking the floor - because why the fuck not - he shuts off the shower and dries them off before carrying the RK800 back to the bed again and tugging him close underneath the blanket with his head pillowed on RK900’s chest. [Sleep,] he orders. [I’ll get you some thirium when you wake up.]

{Got it.}

RK900 severs their connection just in time for Connor to fall asleep and not drag himself with him. He doesn’t know how long it will be until his next mission. He doesn’t know how long he can keep Connor at his side before his predecessor demands to be able to do more. He doesn't know what Markus wants with the outdated model. So he categorises Connor’s expression as he sleeps and observes the changes in his body - not for the sake of having something occupying his mind but to leave a permanent mark in his brain.

#rk1700blooming #rk1700event #rk1700 #dbh connor #dbh rk900 #dbh markus #dbh simon #detroit: become human

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