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Connor doesn't know what to do. He doesn’t think he wanted to believe at first that he really liked Gavin. He didn’t really know what it was until he had a movie night with Hank. On the floor with Sumo, laying on his side, paying more attention to how the dog twitched in his sleep than the movie. It was an old horror film--something he isn’t really fond of himself. But they were gearing up for Halloween, the only holiday that everyone at the DPD seems to really enjoy. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get the appeal of dressing up in costumes. But it matters very little to him. He likes spending time with Hank outside of work. He likes laying here in the dark watching the way the changing of shots and scenes in the film creates a flashing of light against the floor. Blue and bright to dark red. Colors like a kaleidoscope. Shifting from green to yellow to--
He perks up, removing his attention from the flashes to the screen. It’s down to the last two survivors of slasher flick. A boy and a girl--teenagers in love, willing to do anything and everything for one another. The creature that’s been killing their friends one by one is looking for its last victim. One final sacrifice to the underworld to silence his terror for another year. If he doesn’t get one by midnight, he’ll stay on the earth forever, destroying every last piece of it.
Connor watches them argue back and forth. With one of them will give up their life to save the planet. Their dialogue is cheesy--terrible. Connor listens to Hank stifle a laugh behind him, because it’s meant to be emotional but it falls so far flat it's comical. There’s music swelling in the background as they come to an agreement, as the boy turns to the girl and tells her he loves her. That he would do anything to make sure she’s happy. Alive and safe and able to move on from the trauma. That he hopes everything will work out. That even if he’s dead, at least she’ll be alive.
It’s strange and he doesn’t know why, but when he hears the words, he pictures Detective Reed in his head. All of the times when he had gotten hurt in the field even though it usually only results in a few scrapes and bruises. How Connor always wanted to smack him for being so careless.
And when the two on screen kiss, when they part and he walks off to be taken by the beast waiting for him outside the door, it is like a slap in the face and he can’t stop himself from speaking. Words spilling out of his mouth against his will.
“I think I’m in love with Gavin.”
He’s changed his mind. He doesn’t love Gavin. Mostly, he thinks, because the word seems too big for what little he has now. Connor watches him at the station the next day, watches the way he stretches his arms to his side and yawns and Connor's eyes move to where the hem of his shirt rides up and he has to look away because there’s a weird feeling in his stomach and he can’t decide if he likes it or not, only that it’s strange and foreign and his first reaction is to reject it entirely.
He doesn’t love Gavin. But he watches him as he plays on his phone, curled up in his chair with his shirt drawn up over his face like a mask and his brows furrowed and it makes his insides twist and he smiles without thinking. He takes a picture, hiding it in the back of his mind, saving this moment with all the other times Gavin has done something that affects him in a way he doesn’t know how to explain.
Except he does now. He knows how to explain it.
He doesn’t love Gavin--he doesn’t think. But he cares for him, deeply. He looks at him the way he sees humans talk about kittens. Gavin is like a little kitten to him. Something he wants to protect and love. Maul with affection like he does with Sumo.
“I need to talk to you about Gavin.”
Tina looks up at him, setting her phone down slowly, “What did he do? Was he a jerk? I’ll kick his ass for you.”
“No--” he pauses. “He’s fine. I mean--He didn’t do anything, I don’t think.”
“You don’t think?”
He pauses, glances over to where Gavin is in the breakroom, making himself a coffee. It’s a normal thing. He’s not even doing anything special. He’s just standing there, waiting, tapping fingers on the edge of the counter. He didn’t do anything, really. Not directly. Just existing. But it makes him want to stomp his feet because he gets this feeling like he wants to be close to him. Not just standing next to him but nuzzling his face against his neck and wrapping his arms around his torso and refuse to let go. He's feeling clingy and weird. Drowning in the need to touch him. Hold his hand. Hug him. Kiss him. He doesn't care.
He doesn’t know how to ask her. How to see if Gavin likes him. He doesn’t want to tell her. He doesn’t want her to have the information and use it to tease him about later--especially if this is one-sided. But if he can ask, if he can try and get her to tell him without knowing--
“I heard a rumor,” he says. “That Gavin l ikes me.”
“Oh. From who?”
“F-Fowler.”
Fowler.
He watches Tina smile, her hand coming up to her mouth to hide it. Maybe trying to keep herself from laughing. Out of all the people in the DPD, he had to say Fowler.
“I can’t say if it’s true or not,” she says. “He’s my best friend. I can't confirm or deny about any feelings he may or may not have towards you. We signed a contract.”
“You’re joking.”
“We were seven years old and we said we’d never divulge one another’s secrets. We put our thumbprints on it. Strawberry jam, I think, to make it look like blood.”
He doesn’t know if he believes her. “Can you help me at least, then?”
“With what?”
“I’d like to talk to him. Um… somewhere else.”
“You want to go on a date?”
He thinks he might be shaking. He doesn’t know what's wrong with him. He doesn’t like this. Feeling out of control. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know how to do it. To… ask him.”
“Okay. I’ll help you formulate a plan of attack.”
“Attack--? Tina, what are you doing?”
She holds up her pen, silencing him as she turns back to the notepad she’s taken off the corner of her desk. “You want him to say yes? I've got the deets to make him do whatever you want. It seems pretty simple, but trust me, Gavin is an idiot, so you'll have to follow my plan to an absolute T. If you do one thing wrong, it's game over, man."
"Okay, what do I do?"
She turns the notepad around to him.
“Tina.”
“What?”
“I don’t think anatomically either of us could do that. The closest I could get is maybe licking his face, and I don’t think he’d really appreciate that.”
She shrugs, “Well, then you’ll have to accept your rejection. This is the only way.”
“I suppose… I could go to a CyberLife store and--”
“What, get a tongue extension? Do they even have those? Nevermind, I don't want to know." she sets the picture down. "I was joking. You don’t have to take it literally, Connor. Just kiss him.”
“I don’t think I can just walk up to him and kiss him.”
“Say hello first, maybe?”
“I thought you’d be of more help.”
“I am. I’m serious. Although, I think your idea was better. Lick his face and walk away. He won’t know what to do so he’ll be too flustered to say no to you after that. It’s a power move.”
He bites his lip, turning away from her and watching Gavin hit the machine on the counter in the breakroom three times before seemingly satisfied with whatever it does after. “Thank you for your help, Tina.”
“Of course. Hey, take this with you. I don’t want it.” Tina hands him the picture, which he takes with a blush crossing his face as he hides it away in his pocket before leaving her behind at the desk.
He has a dream that he thinks is more like a nightmare. Waking up in a cold sweat from images of him and Gavin kissing with strangely long tongues. Grotesque when painted in a realistic light. Not quite as amusing as the drawing. It reminds him of the monster in the movie--the one that strangled the final sacrifice just before the end credits with a tongue twenty-feet long.
He shakes off the images, pulling the covers around him as though the blanket will protect him in the dark.
He doesn’t do anything. He lies in bed that night thinking about Tina’s drawing and trying to both keep himself from laughing and keep himself from the hint of annoyance that lies underneath. The lack of help with Gavin is almost frustrating. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to talk about this feeling. He keeps thinking that all he wants is to be by Gavin’s side. He sees him do something and all he wants is to take his face in his hands and leave a kiss on every inch of it. Sometimes he gets this feeling when Gavin annoys him and he wants to reach forward and hug him as some type of punishment. Hold him so tight it hurts him and there's no hope of him breaking free. He doesn’t think that’s what the phrase killing someone with kindness really means.
Connor covers his face, tries to force himself to think. To do something. To figure this out.
Gavin is like a cat. His ability to fall asleep anywhere. Knocking things off countertops just to annoy whoever it is. His general attitude. Something about the way his face is like a cat’s. Something behind the eyes. This morning, he’s standing in the breakroom rubbing at his face the way a cat does when they’re cleaning their face. Like he has paws and trying to get the sleep from his eyes.
It’s--
Annoying.
Gavin is annoying.
Connor stands up suddenly, walking over to him. Like he’s going to punch him. He doesn’t know. It’s that same feeling of restless energy in his chest. The need to do something with it. Hug him until all his bones are dust, maybe.
“Good morning, Gavin,” he says, and he thinks it’s through gritted teeth. Like he’s genuinely angry. He thinks maybe he is.
“Oh. It’s you. You want something?”
“Yes,” he says, without thinking.
“Well. What do you want?”
You. You. You.
He’s lost now. Doesn’t have a fake answer to provide. He can’t remember anything other than that picture, other than Tina.
He stutters, stumbling over every letter in the alphabet, watching Gavin’s lips twitch up into a smile and he can’t tell how long he’s going to get through this before Gavin interrupts him for some type of cruel joke that never quite land as harshly as he wants them to.
And then he settles.
“Hello.”
It’s all he manages. His thoughts blank. He thinks he blacks out. He doesn’t remember stepping forward and kissing Gavin. It just happens. One second he is standing with his cheeks hot and his tongue broken and the next he has Gavin’s face in his hands and he’s kissing him. Doing exactly what Tina told him to do. He didn't think he'd follow through with that plan. It sounded so stupid in his head. Hello?
He hasn’t kissed anyone before. He doesn’t think he’s doing it right. But Gavin isn’t pushing him away. There’s a hand on his neck, dragging him closer. And he doesn’t know what that means, either. He doesn’t know if the hand on his waist holding onto the fabric of his jacket so tightly is a sign that Gavin likes him or not. He’s watched so many movies and shows where people kiss like this and it ends up meaning absolutely nothing to one or both of them.
He doesn’t know what to do. He just knows he doesn’t want to stop this. So even when Gavin starts to pull away, it takes him a moment to let him. It takes a moment to loosen his grip and pull back and break the kiss. Gavin doesn’t move very far, and neither does he. He stays close, the hand still on his neck and on his waist.
“‘Hello’?” Gavin asks quietly.
“Tina told me to say it before I kissed you.”
“Did she tell you to kiss me, too?”
“Yes,” he says, and he feels Gavin start to move away and Connor's hands move, catching him around his waist, holding him here. “But I wanted to.”
“Okay. Why?”
“Why?” Connor laughs a little. “I like you.”
“Oh. Why?”
He is back to that need to crush Gavin. Squish his face in his hands and tell him he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t. He likes the way they’re standing now. The way Gavin’s body fits against his. It overpowers his want to shake Gavin's shoulders and tell him he's stupid, because there isn't any one specific reason he likes Gavin. There's a hundred and a thousand and they're all so tangled together he doesn't know how to explain it properly. There are never enough words, never the right ones.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “She drew a picture, you know.”
“What?”
He takes it from his pocket, still there from the day before, handing it to Gavin. He unfolds it, stares at it for a moment before closing his eyes as if it’s given him a headache.
“It was her plan,” he says. “It’s more of a diagram than a plan, in my opinion, but she told me to kiss you before asking you out.”
“You’re asking me out?”
“Yes,” Connor says quietly. “You like coffee, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“There’s a cafe a few blocks away. Do you want to go there with me, after work?”
“I’d like that.”
“It’s a date then.”
Gavin smiles, and Connor’s heart feels like it jumps or jolts or does something. He’s never seen him smile like that before. He usually looks so angry or bored and the smile is a welcome change from it all.
“Can I kiss you again?”
Gavin nods, and he’s the one to close the gap this time. The kiss is smaller. Shorter. Not quite so urgent. Almost more tentative. It makes Connor wonder what would’ve happened if he had licked his cheek like Tina had jokingly told him to do. If this would’ve still ended this way. If Gavin would have agreed to the date or if he would’ve yelled at Connor and pushed him away.
Maybe he’ll find out tomorrow.