Chapter Text
“I was right, you know.”
“I’m aware,” Cassian muttered, internally rolling his eyes at K-2’s smug tone. Only he could sound practically gleeful at an almost-failed mission that had left him in need of several repairs.
“If we’d gone through the tunnels, there was only a twelve point eight percent chance of discovery,” the droid continued. “But oh no, we had to go in through the roof. What a waste of processing power.”
“The roof took us closer to the target,” Cassian pointed out, for the fifth time. “And it worked.”
“Yes, because I took the blaster fire meant for you. Perhaps you should give me a blaster, Cassian.”
“Not happening.” He pushed down the little twinge of guilt that K-2 had been damaged protecting him yet again.
K-2 sighed, a martyred affectation that he employed with annoying regularity. Cassian bent closer to the open hatch on the droid’s chest, screwdriver in hand, removing the damaged circuit board as gently as possible. The shuttle's metal floor bit painfully at his knees.
“I’m sorry,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “You’re right, and I should have listened to you.”
“Yes, you should,” K-2 said primly. “But I’m glad you are unhurt.” He put a big hand on Cassian’s shoulder and squeezed, slightly too hard, his thumb brushing Cassian’s neck. He’d been doing that a lot lately, as though mimicking the casual touches of organics. Cassian’s stomach clenched, and he tried to ignore the wave of regret when the droid released him. Instead he leaned closer to his work, to hide his face, because K-2 could read him better than anybody.
Unfortunately that meant leaning closer to the droid, to the hum of his cooling system and the faint buzz of his circuitry. They were the most comforting sounds Cassian knew. Sitting this close to K-2 he was more aware than usual of the droid’s size and strength, of how easily his metal hands could crush Cassian’s skull, or how the strength in the long, durasteel arms could snap his neck. Of how easily they could wrap around him and hold him against the solid plate of his chest. Of how he could pin Cassian down so very easily. Cassian could kiss those long fingers, where all the most delicate sensors were hidden, make K-2 make that surprised, happy little hum he did when something pleased him.
“Cassian?”
He swallowed. “What?” He knew his voice didn’t sound quite right. He refocused, finally releasing the damaged circuit board and pulling it free of K-2’s chest.
“You are… distressed?” K-2 sounded confused, and Cassian fought back a hollow laugh. The droid had extensive data on Cassian’s various moods, but apparently this one was new. Good. Hopefully he would never need to know about it.
Because K-2 was a droid. Not that that meant he wasn’t a person – Cassian had no time for people who didn’t see droids as sentient individuals – but he wasn’t free. He belonged to the Alliance. Cassian had reworked his programming, removing protocols, installing new algorithms, changing who-knew-what in the process. K-2 seemed perfectly happy with who he was now – was, in fact, happy to feel like a “who” for the first time – but Cassian couldn’t shake the thought that he’d somehow… done something, to make K-2 like him. He knew that the droid’s primary directive was to protect him, to help him, to keep him safe. If he even broached the idea of being… more than friends… would K-2 feel that he had a choice in the matter? Would he go along with it, to keep Cassian happy?
He would never be able to know for sure, Cassian knew.
“I’m fine,” he said, sitting back, circuit board in his hands. “This doesn’t look too bad,” he added, changing the topic quickly. “Just some soldering work.”
K-2 hummed, reaching for the board. His metal fingers brushed Cassian’s as he took it, and a thrum of electricity seemed to shoot under Cassian’s skin. He clenched his hands into fists on his thighs, digging his nails into his palms. It didn’t matter how much he wanted, he couldn’t do that to K-2.
It was fine. Cassian was used to not getting what he wanted.