Work Text:
There's a method to wrapping gifts, a pattern to follow, a protocol to implement. Connor can easily scan an item and preconstruct the amount of paper needed from the roll, the best way to fold the paper down, which angles to use. He folds precisely, methodically, yellow lines appearing in his vision to guide his movements to effectively wrap a present so that it looks pristine.
He smiles as he holds up another wrapped gift, and turns to place it under the tree with the others. Sumo lifts his head from where it rests by Connor's thigh on the floor to peer at Connor's completed pile of gifts under the tree, and then resettles himself, blowing air from his nostrils as he does so. Connor pets his head affectionately, scratching behind his left ear before smoothing the fur on his head down.
A muttered grumble of frustration to his right makes Connor turn his head to face the noise. He continues to pet Sumo's head as he watches Hank, sat on the floor beside Connor, legs crossed under the coffee table, attempt to wrap an awkwardly shaped gift.
"Fuck sake," Hank says, the paper unfolding itself from the sides of the present, a strip of tape sticking to the pads of his fingers. He shakes his hand in the hopes of dislodging the tape but it clings on, its sticky surface finding a way to curl around his fingers and hold on.
Connor smiles, amused at the sight. He moves across the floor on his knees until he's sat directly beside Hank and reaches up to detach the tape from Hank's fingers, being mindful not to pull too roughly as he does so least Hank grouch at him for it.
"Can't wrap presents for shit, I tells ya," Hank says as Connor dips his head to kiss his fingers, as though he were kissing away a serious injury. He knows the gesture seems silly but can tell that Hank appreciates it all the same by the way heat creeps up his neck to settle in his cheeks.
"It's okay," Connor says, shifting his legs until they're crossed, "at least you tried."
Hank scoffs. "Hm, tried 'nd did a shit job of it."
Connor looks at the gift, half wrapped with one too many pieces of tape holding it all together. He can't hide his smile while looking at it, and he picks up the gift and turns it over in his grasp.
"Would you like me to wrap this one too?"
Hank props his chin in his hand, elbow resting on the table. "Knock yourself out. You're clearly better at this shit than I am anyway."
He sees Hank's gaze flick over to the pile of completed presents and Connor can't help but let his smile widen, becoming a grin.
"Thank you Hank. Apparently wrapping presents is one of my specialities."
Hank side eyes him. "Like adapting to human unpredictability?"
Connor quirks his brow as he begins to remove the mostly ruined wrapping paper from around the gift. "That's one of my features."
Hank scoffs again and rolls his eyes up to look at the ceiling. "Add wrapping presents to your ever growing list of features then."
Grabbing for the nearest roll of wrapping paper, Connor lays it out on the coffee table and places the present atop it. He scans it, his preconstruction program materialising yellow lines before his eyes for him to follow. What was difficult for Hank to figure out is a breeze for Connor to follow; he cuts along the required lines, folds neatly along the others, and has the gift pristinely wrapped in no time.
He places the gift atop the table and turns to Hank, grinning proudly. Hank smiles, air blowing through his nose in a lazy laugh at Connor's proud face.
"Show off," he says fondly, and ruffles Connor's hair for good measure.