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The safe house was not the worst K-2SO and Cassian had ever used, not by any stretch.
In fact, by their standards, it was positively pleasant. It even had a charging port, which K-2SO had been very pleased to discover. After the day they had had (a firefight, then being caught in a grenade blast, followed by a speeder chase), his power stores were severely depleted. On the narrow bed, after much tossing and turning, Cassian had finally fallen into a shallow, disturbed sleep.
K-2 watched him. As he did so, he also scanned the surroundings (current threat level: minimal), planned their best route back to the shuttle (approximately thirteen minutes by speeder, provided they were not stopped for their scandocs), and began cataloguing and filing recent memories. The day’s mission-related ones did not take long, but he lingered over the ones from that evening.
#1. Cassian gently sweeping grit and dust from the speeder chase out of the joints of K-2's fingers.
#2. Cassian letting K-2 check him for injuries, his skin warm, his heart beating away beneath the fragile curve of his ribs.
#3. Cassian leaning against him with a weary, relieved sigh. "You did good today, Kay."
#4. Cassian smiling and patting his shoulder when K-2SO said, "Thank you for that precise assessment."
K-2SO had used to come up with excuses for Cassian to touch him, carefully cataloguing every single instance. Something had changed recently, and now he barely needed excuses. He did not understand why Cassian had altered his behaviour patterns, but did not want to draw attention to it in case he withdrew again.
Warmth rose beneath his plating as he replayed the new memory files, over and over, before finally saving them in one of his many subfolders dedicated to Cassian.
A few hours later, he became aware that Cassian was having a nightmare, which was not a rare occurrence. He did not shout, or moan, or thrash, the way some humans apparently did. Instead he held himself still and tense, frowning, grinding his teeth, as though the dreams would leave him alone if he were still and quiet enough.
"Cassian." K-2 unplugged from the charging dock so he could reach Cassian and touch his shoulder. "Wake up. You are having a nightmare."
Cassian flinched, once. His arm snapped up and grabbed K-2's wrist; had it been organic, he would have twisted it painfully. As it was, the touch of cool durasteel seemed to bring Cassian to his senses. He blinked, his eyes unfocused.
"Kay?"
"You were having a nightmare," K-2 repeated. Cassian frowned for a moment, his eyes unfocused, and then groaned and released his wrist.
"Kriff. Sorry. What time is it?"
"There are four more hours until dawn. You have only slept for three."
He grimaced. "Are you making me go back to sleep?"
"Yes, well done."
"Ugh. I don’t think I can, yet." Cassian sat up. He ran a hand down his face, his palm scratching against his facial hair. He swung his legs from the bed and slumped down to sit on the floor, leaning against the stained, bare wall. K-2 knew that it was pointless to argue, and instead sat beside him, close enough that their arms touched. Would it be possible to have sensors installed in his arms? "Talk to me."
"What about?"
"I don't care. Anything. Read file directories or something. I just… don't want to think, for a bit."
K-2 could not comprehend this, but Cassian had asked, so he'd do it. He pulled up a random file, and began to read an archived subroutine for piloting their old, long-destroyed shuttle. Slowly Cassian began to relax, his heart rate steadying. He slumped further sideways until his head was resting on K-2's shoulder plate.
By the time K-2 reached the end of the subroutine, Cassian was drowsing. K-2 dared to reach out and brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Go back to bed. I will wake you at dawn."
"Fine." Cassian pushed himself upright, and for a brief moment (two-point-four seconds) rested his forehead against the curve of K-2's skull-casing. K-2's processors surged, and he had to force himself not to reach for Cassian, to pull him closer.
And then Cassian kissed him. It was unmistakable: Cassian's lips pressed against the front of his faceplate, his face right next to K-2's, his eyelashes feathered dark against his cheekbone. Affection, need, longing raced through K-2's core. He had no sensors in his face plate, he couldn't categorise the warmth of Cassian's lips, or the softness, or the pressure, the contrast of his skin and his beard, but he wanted…
Cassian pulled away so fast he nearly fell, his fingers over his lips, his eyes wide. "Kriff," he said. "Kay - I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"
"Cassian—" It's alright, he was going to say. And, Please do that again, but Cassian looked appalled, staring at K-2 as though he had never seen him before. All the warmth that had risen beneath K-2's plating seemed to dissipate.
"I'm sorry," Cassian said again. "Forget I did that, okay? I'm not thinking properly."
Was that an order, to erase the memory? He didn't want to. He didn't ask for clarification, in case Cassian made it a direct order. Instead he just nodded.
"I'll get some more sleep,” Cassian said, standing up. Clenched and unclenched his fists. His face was shuttered. It was his spy face, the one that could be anyone. "You should make sure you're charged. For tomorrow."
"Yes."
Cassian gave a sharp nod, and got into bed. He lay facing away from K-2, his back one tense line.
K-2SO knew that it was ridiculous, to feel the way he did. But then, it was ridiculous for him to feel anything at all, so what was one more thing? Before he went into low-power mode, he created another new sub-folder, deep in his memory banks, behind layers and layers of encryption, and saved the memory.