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Cassian had grown up on Fest. An ice planet. He had insisted that he knew how to deal with the cold, that he would be fine, that he was prepared. Stay on the damn ship, Kay, I’ll be back soon.
K-2SO did not stay on the ship, and that turned out to be a very good thing indeed. It often was. He would make sure to tell Cassian that later, once he’d compiled the exact statistics.
Now, though, there were more important things to worry about it. This abysmal, snowy planet was slowly working its way up K-2’s list of planets he detested: the thick snow came almost to his knees, and was clinging to the rapidly freezing metal of his lower limbs, making his ankle joints seize. Snow was gathering in his vents and in front of his optics. Cassian – who weighed less than he had done the last time K-2 had carried him – was too pale, muttering to himself, shivering. He was in no state to appreciate that K-2 had, once again, been right.
On board the shuttle, K-2 opened up his medical files and remotely adjusted the shuttle's internal temperature upwards. Cassian’s body temperature had fallen to 33.7 degrees celsius. His heart rate was higher than normal, his breathing too shallow. Being held by metal arms against a metal torso that had just been exposed to extremely low temperatures would not be helping him.
“Need to go,” Cassian muttered vaguely as K-2 helped him sit on his bunk. “Need – to talk to – Draven…”
“You do not need to talk to General Draven. You need to warm up. Cassian, move your arms.” He needed to get the cold, damp clothes off Cassian, but it was proving very difficult. Cassian blinked at him, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion. His lips had a blueish tinge to them. “Cassian, lift your left arm.”
He did, still frowning, still shivering. “Kay,” he said. “Why—”
“You are too cold. You need to warm up.” Finally he got the coat off, and the gloves, then the snow-caked boots. The shuttle was warming now, the snow melting from his chassis forming a puddle on the floor. He was watertight, for the most part, so he would worry about that later. He took off Cassian’s thick socks. At least he had not been exposed to the cold for long enough that frostbite would be a concern.
“I can - can - do it,” Cassian mumbled, struggling with his shirt, his fingers stiff and clumsy. “Don’t - I don’t need—”
“You do need help, as you so often do,” K-2 scolded. Cassian was not warming up as quickly as K-2 would have liked, his body temperature still only at 34.2 degrees. Once he got him down to his underwear, K-2 found dry clothes in the storage locker. Getting them onto Cassian was even more difficult than getting him out of the wet ones, but he managed it, guiding his limbs as gently as possible. “You are impossible,” he told Cassian, letting some irritation seep into his tone. “What would you have done if I had obeyed your orders? Frozen to death, with one hundred percent certainty.”
Cassian’s lips twitched in a tired smile. K-2 was kneeling now, pulling thick socks over his cold feet. “Sorry, Kay,” he said.
“As you should be.” He put a hand on Cassian’s chest - heart rate slightly steadier now - and pushed him to lie down, then pulled the covers up over him. “Do not move.”
“Yes, sir.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, but at least meant that Cassian was no longer confused. The well-stocked med kit contained chemical heat pads, placed under Cassian’s arms and at his groin. His skin was less pale now, his breathing more regular. When he opened his eyes they were their usual clear brown.
“Kay,” he said softly, his voice rather rough. Before K-2 could admonish him to keep still, he lifted an arm and touched K-2’s faceplate. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks.”
“You are welcome.” K-2 took Cassian’s hand, intending to move it back under the covers. His sensors told him that Cassian’s pulse was slightly elevated still, that his skin was warming, that there were blaster callouses marring the softness of his palm. He curled his fingers around Cassian’s, seeking more data, more softness, more… something.
“You must warm up,” he made himself say. “Your body temperature is still two point one degrees below optimal.” He made himself move Cassian’s hand back under the covers, over Cassian’s chest. The temperature beneath the blanket was rising.
“I will,” Cassian mumbled. “Will you… can you stay? I mean.” He blinked, something vulnerable in his eyes. “You don’t have to. You should probably charge, or—”
K-2 did not wish to leave Cassian. His hand still lay beneath K-2’s, against his chest. “I have sufficient power for the next twenty hours,” he said. He could shut down some non-essential processes if necessary, though he was carefully recording all of the data he was receiving from Cassian’s hand beneath his, every tiny movement of his fingers.
His medical files also recommended ambient heat as an effective way to warm somebody. Shared organic body heat is an effective method for increasing ambient temperature, the file said. Well, K-2SO was not organic, but he could generate heat. Cassian was still watching him.
“I will stay,” he said. “It will be beneficial for raising your body temperature.” Slowly, he slid his arm across Cassian’s body, calculating the correct amount of pressure to use that the touch might be soothing and pleasant, rather than painful. He redirected the excess heat created by
his processors to the vents along his arm.
“Mmph. You’re warm,” Cassian mumbled. He turned onto his side, which probably was not the optimal position; he should stay on his back, so the insulating property of the mattress could prevent heat loss through his core. But the movement brought him closer to K-2, and he curled his arm against the droid’s, fingers wrapping around the slim durasteel. K-2’s processes began to surge; he had run simulations so similar to this, simulations of holding Cassian, of Cassian wanting this closeness. He had forcibly shut those simulations down; the chances of Cassian wanting the same thing were so low as to be laughable. But now he was moving closer, reaching for K-2.
K-2 hesitated, before slowly lowering his chest so that it aligned with Cassian’s, so he could wrap the other arm around him as well, taking a moment to make sure the blanket covered him enough. Cassian sighed, and his muscles relaxed slightly. Another surge of processes rushed through K-2 at the sight of Cassian, no longer shivering, relaxed and warm and perfectly safe.