openmisc | Daniel and Connor

Daniel and Connor

Daniel's been having the dreams again. They come almost every night, waking him from even the deepest sleep. And there's always the same name that remains in his memory.

Connor.

He knows what it means, of course. Everyone has dreams like that. Everyone dreams of their soulmate, of the one that they're meant to be with, whether that includes intimacy or not, but he's nearly twenty three now and every Connor he's ever met has let him down. Granted, there were only two and one was in a primary class and the other was a server at a restaurant he went to, but he still feels like it could have been better.

Instead of trying to go to sleep, to face the dreams that he knows are coming, he makes himself some tea and watches the lights from the city out of his window. It might be the early evening, but the CyberLife tower in the distance remains illuminated.

Strange, he thinks, after the riots and what he's seen on the news, that the night seems calm. The kettle whistles and he takes it off the stove, then decides against it.

Tea isn't going to fix anything.

He wants a drink. Pulling on his coat and his boots against the snow, he steps out of his little rental and starts walking along the sidewalk, stopping only when a taxi pulls to a park beside him and someone walks out.

"Oh. Good evening."

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Connor shakes his head and reaches for the shirt and stretches it out so he can examine the logo closer. Malaysia? It certainly looks like it.

"The only books I've been allowed to read are those that had direct involvement with my investigations. Reading anything outside of that was considered superfluous information and could pave the way for developing personal preferences." The last thing CyberLife wanted him to have were opinions.

Connor brightens up. "However, I have knowledge about the basic summaries of thousands of books. I think yours sound intriguing. Maybe you could tell me more about what you like to read, or anything you like to do besides that." Since it seems like he 'doesn't have time' for additional books. Of all the people he's come across, he feels like he could sit and hear Daniel talk endlessly.

Well, Daniel intends on finding out what Connor's personal preferences are. "Well, I do like to read, but I hate reading on the tablets. They make my eyes hurt. I like the dusty old books."

He walks over and picks one up, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the spot beside him, inviting Connor to join. "Okay, so you know George Mallory summited Everest. Or. Well, he tried to. No one really knows if he did. But he was really determined to do it. I only just finished this one, so you can read it tonight if you want."

There's a mischievous smile as he hands it over. "Maybe you'll like it."

Connor takes a seat on the bed all the while looking at the book with intense interest. He sits close and practically puts his head on Daniel's shoulder as he cranes to look at the book in question.

The book is taken in both hands and looked at as if he'd just been handed the most precious gift he's ever received. Usually, he reads information on tablets or digital terminals that were provided. Books are so strange and tactile.

"They were last seen 245 meters from the summit. Though his body was discovered some years later it's still unknown whether he made it or not." Connor flips through the pages. Not to read, but to hear what the paper sounds like. "I'm sure I'll like it. You seem to have compelling taste in reading material."

Daniel automatically leans against him. It's not even a thought, not even a conscious choice. "Well, don't judge me for my Lord of the Rings books," he teases. "It's not all biographies, but I do like reading about explorers."

He taps on the book. "Did you know that he was really good at climbing? People used to just watch him scale rock walls."

The way he reacts to personal touch isn't conscious either. Connor settles into it and leans in with silent approval. Sitting here like this seems to be as natural as their meeting tonight.

"Was he?" He says, closing the book and examining the cover. "Explorers are intruiging. I've never been outside of the city, but I hope to be able to explore the world someday. Maybe not something as ambitious as climbing a mountain, but exploring nonetheless."

"Well, now you should climb a mountain! Maybe not Everest, but a small one. I wish you could come back to London with me. There's much to explore in that city."

And now that he's in the topic, he sits up. "I'd like to see so much. I want to visit the Arctic Circle. I want to see the pyramids in Giza. Or - oh! The jungle. I've never been to a jungle!"

"Do you think they would allow an android like me in London?" It's never occurred to him to ask. Living here seems tenuous enough.

"I don't know," he admits. He knows that they're prohibited from being transported inside the EU, but he doesn't know the specific laws for the UK. It's not something he's ever really looked into. Or cared about.

And now? With all that's going on in the city?

He's not sure what will change. "But, I'm not even supposed to go back for another year, so we have until then to figure it out," he tells him with a soft laugh.

'We' have a year to figure it out. Even if it's an uncertain answer, Connor seems pleased anyway. Someone even using the verbiage that they would know one another in a year's time feels... good. Like he's wanted.

"I'd like that." He says. "I would enjoy exploring the city with you. I know of several recommended locations we could visit, although I doubt I would have the in-depth knowledge you do."

"You might think that, but you would be wrong," he teases. "I have lived there almost my entire life, so all of the things that people come to see in London? I grew up around. They were just a part of my life. I haven't actually gone to visit these places."

"If you grew up around them, then they likely seemed less significant than they would be for tourists." He concludes. "If that's the case, then all the more for us to explore together." It's so unlikely for these plans to see fruition but part of him can't help but hope that they would.

Daniel, still leaning against him, nods. "I think that's a better idea. I do like all of the museums, though. But that's something we can do anywhere."

He takes a breath as his stomach grumbles, making him laugh.

"Do you mind if I make a little supper? I haven't - eaten today."

Connor turns his head away from the book and to the side to look at Daniel. It becomes immediately apparent how close their faces are to one another now that he isn't focused on the book. There is a moment of silence where Connor considers his surprise at how easily they disregarded personal space in favor of both being within the realm of intimate space. Then, being comfortable with it.

"Sure." He clears his throat and turns, wondering if he had overstepped somehow but not willing to verbalize it. "Do you need any help? Cooking isn't my area of expertise, but I'm sure I can help in some way."

Daniel pauses as he stands, as if waiting for Connor. Which, of course, is exactly what he's doing. There's a moment when he almost reaches out a hand to try and bring Connor along with him, but he refrains at the moment. He doesn't want to take any liberties.

"It's not my area, either, but I would like the help. I thought I would just make spaghetti," he admits. "It's easy and I haven't had a chance to get the groceries."

Connor stands up from the bed. The book is set aside (for now) so he doesn't get such a delicate piece soiled somehow. Bringing it to the kitchen is a bad idea when compared to an easy-to-clean tablet.

"If you show me what food you have available, I can suggest a corresponding recipe." Shouldn't be hard to look one up.

"I'll join you once I've changed." He still had to put the sweatshirt on, after all.

Well, that sounds like a good deal.

"Alright," he tells him with a smile. "I'll gather what I have. Uh, don't judge me! It's not much." And, with that, he gives him his privacy so he can take out his ingredients in the kitchen. Chess lets herself inside, curious about the newcomer to the house.

While Connor changes, Daniel takes out various pastas and rice and canned goods, setting them out along the small counters. He has only what he can afford on a small budget - most of his money had gone into renting the house. That, he told himself, had been important. Even if it means he lives on cup noodles for a year.

The shirt is changed quickly. He leaves his jacket folded neatly on the bathroom sink for lack of a better place to put it.

Then, he retreats to the kitchen and examines all of what is available with some curiosity. What could be made with this assortment of ingredients...?

Connor looks in Daniel's direction. "You have a significant amount of carbohydrates in this selection." He shrugs a shoulder and adds. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I may have to judge you." Of course, he's teasing. He can enjoy teasing once in a while.

Daniel gasps softly at that, putting his hand to his heart. Teasing him already? He can feel his heart beat a little faster and his cheeks flush from it. That - that feels nice.

"How dare you!" he laughs. "I won't show you my selection of bread!"

"Selection?" Connor says in a very playfully judgmental tone. "I think these carbohydrates should be sufficient without adding more."

He begins to look through all of what's being offered. Daniel wasn't lying; there's not much. "Fortunately, I'm an android designed to solve complex problems. I think I can handle it." Connor winks, overtly flirtatiously.

Daniel just stares at him for half a second too long, a soft laugh on his lips. That wink. The teasing! He can tell that there's flirting, but he doesn't know if it's meant to be serious or if it's teasing.

What if it's serious?

Daniel stammers a moment before he figures out what exactly to say to that. And it's a very smooth: "I hope so!"

He opens a few of the cabinets to show him where the pots and pans are.

The stammer is telling enough for someone trained on observing social cues. He's likely not used to such a thing or wasn't expecting it. Either way, Connor casually continues what he's doing and goes to pick out a pot to start cooking with.

He slips a pot out of the cabinets and flips it around in a casually showy fashion before setting it on the burner.

"Is there something you enjoy doing outside of work?" He asks conversationally.

Daniel can't keep his eyes off of him. The movement of his hands, the ridiculous flourish of the pan, both entrance him completely.

"I like reading. I like watching films. Horror films, mostly," he admits, leaning back against the counter. "I like being scared in a very...tame way. I have been trying to get into photography. For - for my sister."

"Your sister enjoys photography?"

The water is idly poured into the pan, salted, and turned onto a broil. In the meantime, Connor fishes out what little meat there is and begins to prepare that on a makeshift cutting board. He does everything with unique precision. Every motion is one of complete necessity.

"She does," he answers, pushing away from the cabinet and plucking the picture from the fridge.

"This is her. Hazel," he says, holding it out for Connor to see. "She's - ill quite often, so she isn't able to go out. She is always online, but she says she likes my pictures the best. The ones she can hold, not the ones I send her on my phone."

Connor cranes his head to see. That's the girl in all the other photographs; she was very important to him.

"Printed photographs are very uncommon these days. You must make a substantial amount of effort to give her physical copies." They used to be more common when there were stores that developed film or printed images in kiosk machines. That wasn't common practice any longer - gone were the days of photo albums.

"What kind of photos do you send her?"

Daniel and Connor

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