#y’all know that I have a particular fondness for these kinds of art styles that are reminiscent of water colors

[age-of-moonknight]

Variant cover for Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #11 by Bill Sienkiewicz.

[ryesnatcher]

Eager Eyes

Pairing: Connor RK800 x Reader Requested: Writing prompt #3 with Connor and reader??? / Requested by ANON A/N: This is my first Detroit fic, so any feedback is appreciated and I hope y’all enjoy it! Requests are still open for now :) JUST to clarify this is v diff from usual style of writing, alcohol and the killers inspired this <3

Music that preludes at least 30 decades before them echoes through the room. Sliding between conversations, officers and detectives alike all tapping their feet with a slight slur. The unrelenting beat dancing like fond memories between couples and friends. The air, heavy with alcohol and sweat gives the faintest sensation of relief.

At least to some.

In the far corner Connor doesn’t find himself swaying to the music, or locking hands on the dancefloor like everybody else seemed to be doing. Instead he finds himself watching those that are. Frowning only to himself at the carelessness in their movements as they let themselves move freely, their bodies choosing each erratic movement. No thought. No process. No overthinking. Simply Being.

Even now that he was considered deviant he found it hard to simply allow his body to be. Working with his own presence he still found himself hovering by people, lingering a second too close. Y/N had once told him he could try being more spontaneous. He’d disagreed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was more he didn’t know how. There was nothing anywhere that seemed helpful in the decision to be spontaneous. He’d even asked Hank to no avail, he’d simply called it ironic.

But stood on the edge of the dancefloor frequented by the DPD, watching them collide effortlessly made him almost envy them. Or in particular, Officer Miller and his dancing beside Y/N. Each step with the beat she reciprocates, her arms moving fluidly as the glimmer of her dress catches on every light. Each look between them he feels himself flinching, a sudden impatience for it to stop.

For a second he considers striding over to them. Interrupting in a perhaps selfish desire to sate a feeling he couldn’t quite trust. But the spotlights ahead blind him, dim and patterned they spin across the dancefloor, and he’s sure that even

hesitate on her as his heart seems to skip a beat. A malfunction he doesn’t want to correct.

In the moment, he sees her shaking her head to the songs, her soft lips parted as she drunkenly sings with the song. The light clinging to her skin, as centuries of artists desire hang in the shadows across her face. The history of an art he suddenly yearns to learn, painted in the strokes of her off beat dancing.

“Ohh” Hank says, his voice smug with recognition as he takes his place beside Connor. “I get it now.”

Connor turns slightly, reluctant to look away. As if Miller would make a move in his absence. “Get what now, Lieutenant?”

“Why you insisted we stop by this ridiculous party.”

“I insisted as this party is a celebration of your achievements. Officer Y/L/N asked me personally to ensure you attended.”

Hank lets out a small scoff. Taking a sip from his bottle as nods to the music. Even if he’d have preferred to spend the night watching a repeat of some show with Sumo by his side. He would admit she’d done her homework. The music was to his taste, albeit not heavy, just nostalgic. The booze was free. And there seemed to be only the cops he liked.

Connor looks back to Y/N, her and officer Miller now at a standstill as she’s led from the dancefloor. His hand holding hers. Connor finds himself mentally spitting his name, a wave of something not quite nausea hitting him as he forces himself to keep watching, Unsure of why it’s even upsetting him.

The two of them talking closer and closer, Miller fumbling in his pocket and lighting the cigarette he pulls from it, offering it first to Y/N. Taking a drag she leans in closer. A hand on his shoulder. Once again Connor winces, this time looking away. Frowning hard as he tries to figure out why it’s bothering him so much. Letting out a small exhale and crossing his arms, he catches Hanks smug grin looking down at him. Finally understanding the human expression of a shit-eating grin.

“Why don’t you go ask her to dance? You know instead of just watching her and looking all jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, Lieutenant.”

“Connor, if your little disk thing could flash green, it damn well would be.” He points the neck of his bottle to the LED on Connors temple. Taking a heavy swig before calling out. “Y/N!”

Connor lets out a slight gasp, his eyes wide in horror as he watches her turn to her name. An excited grin spreading across her lips. Instantly feeling weak, the lightness in his head seems to increase as he holds his breath. Watching as she makes her way over. Forgetting that he has yet to protest Hanks actions.

But before he can he’s wrapped in Y/Ns arms. Caught in the overwhelming scent of her perfume. Caught in her warmth and the pull on his neck as she reaches up. Every sense working double as he tries to capture this exact feeling, every desire he has to lose his inhibitions. And as his slender fingers touch her back, his mind goes blank. Seeing only her, the warmth of her stolen her dress. As quick as his horror had faded, she was gone. Her words ringing in his ears as he struggled to process them.

“I can’t believe you actually got him to come.” She smiles at Connor, letting out a small laugh as she nudges him gently. “Are you both enjoying the party?”

“You did a helluva job Y/N. Only office party they’ve managed to get me to come to yet.” He winks to her, bringing the bottle to his lips. Tipping the contents back and expertly finishing it. “Oh would you look at that. I’m all out.”

He hold out the empty bottle as if evidence, Connor instantly steps forward and reaches for it. “I can get you another-” His offer and eager smile is cut off as Hank shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder before sauntering away.

Leaving Connor with nothing but the feel of a dry mouth. Swallowing harshly as he looks to her. Her eyes, bright in the glimpses of light, look to him expectantly. Lost for words, he stumbles.

“You really did do a great job with the party.”

“Thanks, Connor. It’s really nothing though. All you need for cops is to get booze, shitty music, and don’t invite the assholes from the office.” She lists them off on her fingers, giving a small shrug.

“Yes, I did notice the absence of Detective Reed.”

Y/N laughs, loud and uncaring. Connor meeting her grin with a smile of his own. He was sure that he’d never smiled as much as these past few moments. Simply watching her as though he was learning his own humour for the first time. Pride swelling in his smile.

As her laughter dies down, a silences settles between them. Connor shifting uncomfortably as his dark eyes drop to the floor. Trying hard to find ways to fill the silence. Looking up as Y/N clears her throat.

“You like dancing.” He states, his cheeks now holding a blue tinge.

“I guess. It’s definitely more fun with alcohol.”

“I could get you a drink?” He suggests, Y/N shaking her head.

“I’m good. We could dance though?” She suggests, nodding her head towards the dancefloor. “You know together.”

He drops his gaze once more, watching the fluid movements of the people filling the dancefloor. They were clunky, drunk, but uncaring. Even if they weren’t what anybody would consider good dancers. He could already see the difference between their movements and what he would give.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to dance.” He admits, watching her as he expects her to move away. Instead she just giggles, stepping closer and taking his hand.

He looks to their joint hands, glad that he cannot sweat like they do.

“Connor, nobody here can dance. They’re cops.” She pauses as Connor’s hand pulls across the curve of her back.  A certain kind of adrenaline rushing through her as she speaks. “If you can’t dance that only means you’re fitting in perfectly. So…congrats on becoming a full time cop” She trails off, pulling him with her as he follows after her. Connor aware of every set of eyes watching them.

Androids, humans, people he cared about. Their eyes watching him as if each movement was deviant. But he couldn't find time enough to care? Instead he was swept into their moment. The rush that came with Y/N’s leg brushing on his own, the pride that seemed to swell with having every person know that she was dancing with

Briefly looking around, catching each jealous look with a smile of his own, until he meets Hanks. The old man giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up, Connor returning it with a wink as he pulls her closer, watching as a blush burns in her cheeks and palms.