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Androids don’t feel physical pain. There are no pain receptors or sensors anywhere in their body to signal the feeling, but if Nines had to imagine what pain felt like to humans, he imagines that the sensations he’s been experiencing for the past half hour or so are as close to it as he can fathom. It’s discomfort and the feeling of systems not operating the way they should be. A bullet straight through his right forearm, severing some of the connections which supply fine motor control to his hand. A harsh scrape across his jaw plate, deactivating the artificial skin there and wearing the black chassis down to expose a few wires. The dislodgement of a biocomponent in his chest, causing certain processes to terminate. Debris and rock in his optical unit, and a scratch across the lens caused by crushed glass, slightly obscuring his vision.
No, the injuries Nines received while grappling with their suspect don’t cause him pain. They don’t even fully inhibit his functionality, still letting him put the perp in cuffs without so much as batting an eye, but they are not necessarily comfortable. There’s red warnings popping up in his vision, telling him all of the things going on in his body that are making him perform at less than optimal levels, but even if his HUD wasn’t fully functional he would know. He knows himself and his abilities, and everything feels to work slower, heavier, with a hitch that he can’t overcome. It doesn’t really matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. The suspect that he and his partner have been after these past few weeks is in custody, and none of his injuries will require repairs. It’s all things he can handle on his own with some extra thirium and a few cycles of stasis.
Everything is fine. Although his partner seems a lot more concerned than he needs to be.
“You plastic fucking prick!” Gavin shouts at the android, loud enough for every officer in the area to hear him clear as day even though he’s less than a foot in front of Nines, “I would punch you in the goddamn nose right now if it didn’t look like half of your face was about to fall off.”
“My face is not about to ‘fall off’, Detective. I just sustained some superficial damage. It will be healed by the end of the week,” Nines replies, raising an eyebrow as Gavin continues to frown at him, “although I don’t see why you are so angry. Our suspect is in custody and no casualties resulted from the night.”
Gavin crosses his arms over his chest and scowls. He’s a bit out of breath still from the chase, but he’s in one piece. That’s a relief. An android can be repaired a lot more easily than a human can, and Nines would be lying if he said he didn’t put his partner’s well being before his, even at the cost of jeopardizing a mission.
“‘ I don’t see why you’re so angry ’,” Gavin mimics, and Nines can’t help the fondness that rises in him at the childish response, “uh maybe because you fucking ditched me back there and took off without a warning?”
“You only would have slowed me down,” Nines responds honestly.
From the look on Gavin’s face, he knows the statement is true. Nines can run at inhuman speeds without the same limitations of stamina or energy that humans face. Gavin might be in good shape, but he’s got no chance against a military-grade android whose core programming was created based on speed, strength, and ruthlessness.
“Yeah but if you had fucking waited for me, like I told you to, then you wouldn’t be all…” Gavin trails off as he seems to get a good look at Nines’ injuries before he clears his throat and averts his gaze, voice a bit softer when he speaks again, “anyway, you should probably get to one of those radioshacks to get yourself patched up, yeah?”
“There is no need. My self-repair function should be able to take care of my injuries during stasis. Like I said, I should be backed to full functionality within a few days.”
When Gavin’s eyes snap back over, his gaze is sharp. He doesn’t look pleased with Nines’ response, and he almost seems concerned. Or at least, concern is how Nines would define the look on Gavin’s face if it came from anyone else. But coming from Gavin, he would hazard a guess to say it’s probably a look of irritation, discomfort, pity, or something of the like. He wasn’t outfitted with the same social modules that Connor was, and so things such as intent and social protocols are significantly more difficult. He has to look at things in terms of facts and figures. Like for example, the fact that Gavin isn’t the kind to be concerned for androids. The way his eyes linger on the scarred plane of inhuman chassis on Nines’ jaw just proves that point. Nines wishes he could reactivate his artificial skin, just to make Gavin stop staring at him. Gavin hates androids, and Nines can only imagine what a robotic sight he must make right now. He hopes it doesn’t hurt his working relationship with the detective too much.
Suddenly, Gavin looks away, eyes darting up to the area around them. Nines watches as he scans the street signs and takes a moment to get his bearings. For a human, Gavin seems to be almost unnaturally good at navigation, his sense of direction and orientation almost never failing, and it only takes the human a moment to seem to figure out exactly where they are in relation to the city.
“My apartment is a few blocks west of here,” Gavin comments, almost conversationally, before he turns due west and calls over his shoulder, “you’re coming with me, so keep up robocop. I know your legs aren’t short circuiting.”
There isn’t a reason that Nines needs to visit Gavin’s apartment, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to figure out what the human’s intentions are. And he’s interested to finally scope out Gavin’s apartment. There’s a lot you can learn about a human from their living space. It takes barely a second for Nines to catch up and fall into step next to the detective. He frowns when he sees Gavin pulling out a cigarette, stopping for half a step to light it and then continuing along. Nines doesn’t need to scan his partner to know what’s likely happening to the human’s vitals. Stress levels decrease and there’s a spike in heart rate, blood pressure, and blood sugar
“You really should refrain from smoking, Detective,” Nines suggests, even though they’ve had this exact same conversation before, “the negative effects of the drug outweigh the benefits.”
“Yeah well,” Gavin starts on his next exhale, using the cigarette as a prop to gesture with as he talks, “you really should refrain from ditching your partner in an abandoned parking lot and getting yourself injured.”
Nines frowns, not seeing the correlation between the two actions, but by now he knows better than to press the situation. They walk the few blocks in a silence that’s somewhere between awkward and comfortable. It’s not uncomfortable per se, but the way Gavin keeps throwing glances over towards him that read full of tension and anxiety. Nines scans his own systems as they walk, confirming once again that nothing is in need of serious repairs. Injuries like this to a human could be extremely concerning. But to an rk model? Especially cyberlife’s most advanced unit? It’s nothing.
Eventually the pair comes to Gavin’s place. It’s a nondescript building, just a brick townhouse in a row of others that look mostly the same. Gavin snuffs out the butt of his cigarette on the concrete and lets them into the building, leading Nines down a short hallway to his apartment entrance. He opens the door almost tentatively, foot reaching out to push something on the floor out of the way. Nines eyes follow the movement and register what it is just as Gavin opens his mouth to speak.
“Hey hey, step back idiot,” Gavin grumbles at the small black cat who just meows as it’s pushed away.
Gavin shuts the door behind them and makes his way into the apartment, but Nines stays in place, watching as the black ball of fluff sniffs at his feet. There’s something different about this cat. Something that Nines can’t put his finger on while so much of his processing power is focused on handling the damages to his system. The cat must be able to smell the thirium on his boots because it licks the drips of blue on his shoes eagerly. Huh. He wonders what thirium tastes like to biological creatures.
“Toaster!” Gavin groans, making his way back to where he left Nines on the welcome mat, “that’s disgusting! Don’t lick his dirty boots.”
Gavin grabs the little cat and gets a loud meow in complaint. Nines smiles as Gavin gives a yeah yeah, I know, to the little animal, carrying it over to where another cat—this one stark white—is lounging on the sofa. Nines knew that Gavin had cats, but this is the first time he’s seen the man interact with them. He’s surprisingly gentle with the two animals, setting the black one down gently and giving both cats a couple scratches behind their ears before turning back to Nines once again.
“Sorry about that,” Gavin says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all, “they’re both little weirdos.”
This time, Nines follows Gavin into the small kitchen, sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter when Gavin directs him to. He takes the opportunity to scan the apartment freely. The place isn’t wildly decorated, but Nines can see a handful of little touches that are distinctly Gavin. A signed concert poster from a rock band from the 20’s, back in Gavin’s youth. A framed photo of his two cats curled up together in a hammock in the sun. A collection of coffee mugs with various sayings on them that Nines can see when the man opens the cabinet.
He watches in confusion as Gavin pulls out a rather large mug and sets it down on the counter. That confusion only mounts when the human opens his fridge and comes back with a packet of thirium, rips it open easily, and pours the contents into the mug. Nines is still trying to process the information being presented to him when Gavin then goes for his freezer, pulling out an ice tray and popping out two deep blue ice cubes which he then adds to the mug.
“Here,” Gavin says, terse and rather self-conscious, as he slides the mug across the counter to Nines and pointedly avoids eye contact.
Nines just stares down into the cool cup of thirium, trying to piece together how he ended up in this situation, how in the world he’s sitting in Gavin’s apartment, being offered a mug of thirium. Because Gavin apparently has extra blue blood just sitting in his fridge, and ice cubes prepared from the substance. His processors must have been injured in the fight without him realizing it, because he’s having an incredibly hard time reconciling those facts with the man in front of him. The anti-android human who he’s been partnered with for all this time.
“Is this… thirium? With thirium ice cubes?” Nines asks, knowing his LED is cycling yellow as he looks at his partner.
Gavin crosses his arms over his chest when he finally makes eye contact with Nines, something guarded and defensive in his eyes.
“No, it’s android poison dyed blue to trick you,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes before he clarifies, “yes it’s thirium, dipshit. What did you think it was?”
Nines gives a slight smile at that, loving how essential Gavin Reed that comment is.
“I’m just confused by the fact that you’re giving this to me,” Nines explains, tentatively reaching out to take the mug and enjoying the cool feeling of the ceramic on his sensors.
“Well uh,” Gavin starts, running a hand through his hair and looking significantly less sure of himself, “drinking thirium is supposed to help you heal, and it being cooled down is supposed to be good for your bio-guts. Right?”
Nines is impressed. Consuming thirium when injured definitely does speed up the healing and recovery process, especially when levels have been depleted. That’s not the most common piece of knowledge, but it’s not too weird for a human—especially one who works in law enforcement—to know that. What stands out is the little tidbit about cooled down thirium. Drinking it at lowered temperatures is a lot more satisfying. Connor once compared it to the way humans feel when they drink a hot drink on a cold day. It’s soothing and definitely helps with the mental aspect of recovery. But that’s never really been something people care about. Cyberlife stores and repair centers just give you room temperature thirium, or maybe thirium from a fridge if it’s available. Nines has never been offered, nor has he ever even heard of, ice cubes made from thirium.
“Yes that is true, but I meant why-” Nines starts to clarify, before his attention is drawn to the little black cat from before jumping up on the counter in front of him.
Gavin steps in quickly as the cat sniffs its way over to inspect the contents of Nines’ cup, scooping the cat up once again. Nines is starting to get the feeling that this is a common occurrence.
“No Toast, you have your own,” Gavin insists, placing the cat down by a little mat of dishes next to the fridge, “don’t be a jerk.”
The cat sits down right at Gavin’s feet and meows up at the human, clearly begging for whatever it wants. When Nines zooms in on the dish it’s sitting in front of, things finally click for the android. Because the cat bowl is filled with the same blue substance that the mug in Nines’ hands is filled with. A quick scan of the creature confirms his suspicion. Gavin’s cat is an android. The realization is almost dizzying as circuits fire in Nines’ CPU. Gavin has a cat that’s an android? It almost seems impossible, but after a brief discussion with the pleading cat, Gavin seems to relent, and procures another blue ice cube from the freezer before adding it to the cat’s bowl. Nines glances back at the white cat now sleeping on the couch, scanning it quickly and discovering that this one is a biological feline. How strange.
“Your cat is an android,” Nines states simply, finally lifting the mug to his lips with his good hand and taking a sip, letting the temperature of the drink pleasantly cool his internal circuits.
“Yep. Have to buy her fancy ass thirium to drink, and I even spoil her with an auto-cooling cat water bowl. Plus a soft cat bed that’s a charging station!” Gavin huffs as he looks down at the little ball of fluff happily lapping at the cold blue blood in the bowl, “but does she appreciate it? Nooo, all she does is complain.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Nines muses, a slight smile on his lips as he looks at his partner, knowing there’s a dangerous amount of fondness showing in his gaze.
Gavin just scoffs, but Nines knows that they both know he’s right. Nines watches idly as Gavin opens a drawer, pulling out a small towel and bringing it over to the sink. While he lets the water run over the fabric, he glances over towards Nines, but they don’t make eye contact. It seems like Gavin’s gaze lingers on the marred chassis of his face before it falls to focus on his usually pristine cyberlife jacket, now ripped and stained with blue.
“Were you shot?” Gavin asks with a tight voice, turning back to the sink so that Nines can’t see his face when he speaks, “you’re stained with that blue shit.”
“Yes,” Nines responds, noticing the way Gavin’s hands fumble slightly as they wring out the damp cloth, “some of the wiring in my left arm is severed, but my self-repair function should be able to handle it once I enter stasis. The thirium should help as well.”
Gavin nods, uncharacteristically quiet as he makes his way back over to the android. Nines can’t tell what’s going through the man’s mind. Maybe thoughts about how different the two of them are. Humans are so fragile. They can lose their lives or be permanently affected by a gunshot wound, whereas all Nines needs to do to repair himself is the android equivalent of “sleep it off”. It must seem unfair to Gavin.
“Take your jacket off,” Gavin requests, eyes locked on the place where his partner was shot.
Nines doesn’t argue, shedding his jacket and hanging it on the back of his chair politely. He rolls the sleeve of his button up past his elbow with his good hand, exposing the injury. He’s expecting Gavin to hand him the damp towel so he can wipe the thirium off of his skin, a thank you already on his lips, but Gavin surprises him yet again by grabbing his wrist. Nines stays as still as he possibly can, watching as his partner’s eyes stare at the wound in his forearm. His chassis is torn and ruptured, the severed wires inside of his body showing clearly to the outside world. He can feel the missing connections, feel where there’s missing sensation and mobility, but the touch sensors in his wrist are still online, and he can still register the feeling of Gavin’s hand on his skin. Warm. Firm. Rough calloused fingers and a scarred palm. It feels nice to be touching. It always does.
Gavin still says nothing, just seems to snap out of his staring spell and starts wiping the streaks of blue off of Nines’ chassis and skin. It’s a surprisingly caring gesture from a human who seems to hate androids so much, but there’s no way Nines is going to comment on that fact or try to argue right now. It’s nice to have Gavin helping him like this, and it’s clear that the human is being careful not to brush any exposed wires as he works. It’s a gesture that Nines appreciates.
All of a sudden, there’s a weight and a warmth on his shoulder, followed by the press of a paw to his temple. Nines turns to look at the ball of black fluff perched on his shoulder, but as his head turns, the cat follows his temple. Ah, his LED must be spinning or cycling colors, causing the cat to want to chase it. He’s never interacted with android animals all that much, but he thinks he likes this one.
“So how did you end up owning an android cat?” he asks, breaking the silence and looking back over to Gavin, giving the little cat a better angle to play with the glowing light on his head.
“Hm?” Gavin questions idly, before the words seem to click and he answers, “oh, I found the little bastard in an alley a block or two away. Must’ve gotten in a fight with some strays because she was all busted up. I could tell she was an android but I couldn’t just leave her there to die. Or deactivate or whatever.”
Gavin finishes up his work as he speaks, and when he finally lets go of Nines’ wrist, the android can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment in his chest. They don’t get to touch each other much, only the occasional professional points of contact. A hand on an arm, the bump of shoulders, a playful shove, the brush of fingers over a coffee cup. Gavin probably doesn’t even notice the touches when they happen, but Nines sure does. He catalogues them and saves them in a special table in his memory database. One just for moments with Gavin. Because he knows he’ll likely never have more than those small moments, and he wants to make sure they’re all safely stored away.
There’s a heavy sigh from Gavin as the human finally notices the cat on his partner’s shoulder, but doesn’t shoo the animal away, letting her sit there and try to catch the light that seems to be there solely for her entertainment.
“Once I patched her up, there was no way I was getting rid of her. I started calling her Toaster,” Gavin explains, and Nines can’t help but smile slightly at how similar the name is to tin can, “but my other cat, the lazy one on the couch, his name is Bread. So Toaster got shortened to Toast. And now they both harass me without paying rent.”
Nines smiles at the roll of Gavin’s eyes. There’s a fondness there, on his face and in his tone, and Nines can tell that he genuinely cares for his pets. Besides, actions speak louder than words, and the fact that Gavin keeps his fridge stocked with special food just for the android cat, freezes ice cubes of the stuff, and apparently even bought a special android cat bed all completes the picture of an owner who doesn’t care if his cat is an android. He still cares about her.
“Toast is lucky to have you,” Nines says with a smile, turning his head to look at the animal again.
Toast tries to chase the light at first, but then looks at the android’s face. She leans in, bumping their noses together and then rubbing the side of her face across his cheek. A quick internal search query and Nines learns that this is a sign of affection for cats. It’s a mix of saying hello and wanting to make you smell like them. It makes Nines happy in a way that reminds him of why he loves being a deviant.
Nines eventually turns back to look at Gavin, but the man’s eyes have shifted, and Nines can tell he’s fixed on his jaw again. He tries to reactivate the artificial skin there, but gets an error message on his HUD that the component is still injured, and activation of artificial skin is impossible at the moment. About a third of his face is deactivated, black scarred chassis showing where skin should be, scraped to hell and back, worn down to expose wires, and definitely making him look downright robotic he’s sure. Evidence of how different Nines is, not only from humans, but also from all the other androids around him. Even Connor has white chassis underneath, a soft soothing color. But Nines has never been like the other androids around him.
“Does that hurt?” Gavin asks, eyes not leaving the android’s face.
“Androids don’t feel pain, detective,” Nines explains, although he’s sure Gavin already knows, “but it does feel… unsettling.”
That’s the best word that he can come up with that will make sense to Gavin. His body is aware that something is wrong. There are injured sensors throughout his body and distorted input coming in, causing a general feeling of something not working right. It’s not painful. But it’s not right.
“Can I touch your face?” Gavin asks suddenly, surprising Nines with both the question and the forwardness with which it was asked.
He doesn’t respond at first, trying to read through the man’s intentions and fight off the very strong urge in his systems that want to be touched so very badly, and that hesitation must make something click in Gavin. He looks surprised and startled, glancing away quickly as his face flushes.
“Fuck I didn’t mean- shit pretend I didn’t say that,” Gavin says quickly, voice coming out gruff as he runs a hand through his hair, “that was fucking weird of me, delete that from your cpu or wherever, robocop.”
Nines just looks at him. The human seems pretty distressed over the request, tense and wound up in a way that tells Nines the human’s stress levels are rising without the need to scan him. It’s times like these when Nines really wishes he had the same social module that Connor was built with. He can’t tell if it was something Gavin actually wants and is too embarrassed to own up to, or if it actually was some sort of slip of the tongue or misunderstanding. All Nines knows is that it felt really nice to have Gavin touching him earlier, and he wants more of that.
“I can’t just delete things from my memory bank whenever you want me to, Gavin,” Nines replies, a small smile playing at his lips as he uses his partner’s first name.
Gavin eyes him suspiciously, one eyebrow raised, but at least he looks a bit more relaxed. Nines almost always refers to Gavin by his title, so he’s sure that the human noticed the use of the name. Nines knows that it always makes him feel better to hear his partner use his name, so he’s glad to see he’s having a similar effect on Gavin.
“Can’t or won’t?” Gavin asks, a bit of a tease in his voice.
Nines considers responding, but decides that he’d rather leave Gavin hanging. The truth is that he could delete things from his memory databank, but he doesn’t want to. Especially when those memories involve Gavin. Even the interactions they’ve had which were less than pleasant are stored. The insults, the shoves, every time that Gavin has decided to be a grade A asshole, it’s all just a part of their relationship. A part of Gavin he wants to keep. Before he went deviant he thought human emotions were horribly inefficient, doing nothing but slowing down your processors and diverting your focus. When he deviated, he found out that this is exactly the case, but it’s worth it. He knows his main focus in life should be achieving his goals and directives, but somehow there are people in his life that make him prioritize them over his missions. He can’t imagine a situation in his life now where he wouldn’t put his life on the line to protect Gavin or Connor.
If he were still a machine he wouldn’t be here at Gavin’s apartment, letting his human partner help him rather than going into an early stassis to repair. If he were still a machine he wouldn’t feel this tugging in his chest, aching for another’s skin on him. If he were a machine maybe he wouldn’t care about Gavin asking to touch him. But he’s not a machine anymore. He’s a deviant and he has wants and needs just like every other human and android around him, so he can’t keep his hands to himself.
Nines reaches out, grabbing Gavin’s wrist with his good hand and ignoring the startled yet confused frown from his partner as he pulls it to his face. He presses Gavin’s hand to his face, over the exposed chassis and scarred surface there. Everything feels so much more sensitive without his artificial skin, and he doesn’t need the HUD alert that pops into his vision to know that software glitches for just a moment at the touch. No matter how defensively his programming was coded, no matter how many locks and checks were put in place during his development, he knows he has no hope of being stable around Gavin.
The man still looks confused when Nines lets go of his wrist, but his hand doesn’t fall from the android’s face. Instead, an almost reverent look crosses his features, thumb sliding slowly across the dark expanse of chassis. Nines puts all of his processing power into taking in the sight of Gavin and the feeling of his touch, trying to file away the data so that he never forgets it. Everything inside of him is unstable, biocomponents working in ways they were never designed to work. The warmth from the increased flow of thirium. The elevated rate of breathing to help cool down his internal components. The tinge of blue on his cheeks from blue blood spreading under his skin. The feeling of his skin melting away even further, looking for more of Gavin’s touch.
There’s a jolt of what feels like a spark inside of Nines as Gavin runs his thumb over an exposed wire. It’s like his sensors there are alight with feeling, overloading with sensation that is both overwhelming and achingly perfect. His breathing process halts all of a sudden, and his injured optical unit glitches, eyelid giving an inhuman twitch. He gets a system alert that his speech module is malfunctioning and a sudden sound of static expels from his lips.
“You okay there, tin can?” Gavin asks, obviously surprised and off put by the reaction and sound.
All of a sudden Nines feels insecure and so damn inhuman. The only solace he gets is in the fact that Gavin has not extracted his hand, keeping it where it rests on the side of his face.
“Yes I-” Nines starts and then stops, resetting his vocal modulator due to the static in his voice before continuing, “my exposed wiring is not meant to be touched.”
“Thought you guys didn’t feel pain,” Gavin questions, eyebrow raised in a judging question.
“I didn’t say it hurt. It was just…” Nines hesitates for a moment, scanning through his dictionary to find an appropriate word before continuing, “sensitive. A bit overwhelming.”
The sensation wasn’t unpleasant at all. In fact it was quite enjoyable, just not something he expected. It was like the static shocks he gets from casual touches with his partner, but magnified to a much more intense level.
“Do you glitch and freak out like that every time cyberlife fixes your robo-guts then?” Gavin asks, trying to come across teasing, but Nines can tell he’s genuinely interested in the answer.
Nines is interested as well, because the answer is no. He only feels like this when it’s Gavin. Gavin with his scarred skin and soft touches. Gavin with his guarded eyes that always seem to be hiding some sort of feeling. Gavin who hides behind harsh or teasing words, but who secretly has his heart in the right place. Gavin who is a complete asshole, but who Nines wants to be with every moment of the day.
“No. Servicing by cyberlife technicians is clinical, like a medical procedure,” Nines responds, seeing the curiosity peak in his partner’s eyes before he continues, “I enjoy when it’s you touching me. It feels pleasant.”
Pleasant isn’t the perfect word he can come up with to describe the feeling, but it seems like the best choice in the moment. Other words that would be applicable right now: pleasurable, exhilarating, sensual, electric, raw, heavenly. All words that he’s afraid would come across as far too strong for Gavin at the moment.
Gavin makes a “hm” sound, something pensive and calculating as his eyes stay locked on where the two of them are touching. Then there’s that feeling again of Gavin’s thumb rubbing across his exposed wiring. It feels different this time. There’s still that rush of overwhelming sensation, the feeling of Gavin touching the raw parts of him, the shock that sparks through his system, but there’s something more. Because this time Gavin knows what he’s doing when he does it. It’s not an accident, and it’s not a move made out of curiosity. No, Gavin is making him feel like this on purpose, which only heightens everything. The twitching, the alerts of malfunctions, the static, the errors, the air intake, all of it. It’s so much more intense and vibrant when he knows Gavin wants him to feel like this.
Nines can feel the way the muscles in his partner’s hand shift, immediately reading the course of the man’s actions. Before Gavin has a chance to repeat the move yet again, Nines’ hand shoots up to grab his wrist once again, startling him into stillness and scaring Toast off. Instead of a soft and guiding hand, this time it’s a firm grip, not letting Gavin pull away. They make eye contact, and there’s something that Nines can’t read in the human’s eyes. He doesn’t know if it’s because of his sub-par social module or because of the fact that all of his systems are thrown askew.
“Detective,” Nines warns, voice serious yet rife with static, “if you do that one more time, I’m afraid it will be very difficult to keep myself from doing something inappropriate.”
It’s a warning, meant to deter Gavin from doing anything to drive Nines any crazier than he already feels. There’s a spark of something in Gavin’s eyes, something that’s both dark and bright, and Nines realizes that what he says might sound like a challenge. His intention wasn’t to bait Gavin, but he finds himself suddenly hoping that the guy takes it. A smirk slides across Gavin’s face, and a rush of excitement, hope, and want go through his circuits.
Once more Gavin runs his thumb across Nines’ injury, and that movement paired with the bright and intense sensation it alights within Nines is all the android needs to lean forward and give in. He presses their lips together eagerly, relief and joy sparking in his chest when Gavin immediately kisses back. Thank god he seems to have read the situation correctly, because the feeling of Gavin kissing him, one hand still on his face, is perfect. When Gavin lets out a happy little noise into the kiss, it’s nothing short of nirvana.
Throughout their partnership, Nines has made an effort to never preconstruct a situation like this. Hope is a very human concept, and Nines had learned early on that it was a very dangerous thing for a deviant. He had known early on that if he had ever used his software to imagine a life like this with Gavin, it would do nothing but make him ache, make him hope for something that he knew logically would never happen. It would have been torture, being with imaginary versions of Gavin, but never with the real him. So he had fought every urge that wanted to imagine what a situation like this would have been like. But now he knows that even his top-of-the-line software would have paled in comparison to the real thing. Nothing could have properly simulated this situation here and now.
Gavin’s hands on his face, kissing him like he might drown in him, threatening to pull him off the stool, it’s overwhelming in the best possible way. Every single circuit within him feels alive with sensation and input. If there was one moment in his life that made deviating worth it, it would be this moment right here and now. He reaches for Gavin’s hip, pulling him closer just to feel him more before his hand travels back up to slide into the man’s soft messy hair.
They break apart eventually, and Nines knows that his vocal modulator needs a soft reboot, not that any noise is likely to be heard over his heavy breathing. His biocomponents are overheated and his system pulls in air eagerly in an attempt to cool himself down even as the sight of Gavin starts to make the heat in him rise even further. Messy hair, dark eyes, heavy lids, flushed cheeks, wrinkled clothes, swollen lips; Gavin looks amazing. He looks mussed and messy in the best way, hands still framing Nines’ face as they share breaths.
The sound of Toast meowing at them for attention where she’s flopped on the counter draws their attention. They turn to look at her and she rolls onto her back, looking at Nines with an expression that clearly says she wants to be pet. Gavin drops one hand from Nines’ face, but it doesn’t go far. It just rests on the android’s shoulder, maintaining the contact and keeping them close. Nines smiles, extracting his hand from where it’s still tangled in Gavin’s hair to reach out and give Toast a tentative pet on her head. She responds well, nuzzling her face into the android’s hand and then tilting her head back as far as it will go to let Nines scratch her chin. She wraps both paws around his hand, melting into the touch.
“I think-” Gavin says in a rough voice, stopping to clear his throat before continuing, “I think she wants you to stay.”
Nines continues his ministrations, shooting a look towards Gavin. The human is looking at his cat, a small smile playing at his lips. Not for the first time, Nines is hit with a rush of just how much he feels for his partner. It’s a lot to take in alongside the information that Gavin may reciprocate some of those feelings. He processes a quick reboot of his modulator, making sure he can speak.
“Is she the only one?” Nines asks, a hint of something devilish in his tone.
Gavin looks over at him and they make eye contact for a fraction of a second before the human looks away abruptly, a blush rising quickly to his face.
“Getting kinda cocky there, huh robocop?” Gavin teases, hesitating just a moment before adding on, “but I’m sure Bread would also enjoy having someone else around to pay attention to him.”
Toast gives an indignant mewl as Nines pulls his hand away, but Nines mentally promises to make it up to her later. He brings his hand to Gavin’s face, startling the shorter man into looking at him. His eyes are guarded, but significantly less than normal, giving Nines a little bit of sight into what he’s feeling for once. Hopeful is the word that Nines would use to describe that look.
“Then I guess I should stay,” Nines muses, thumb running idly across Gavin’s cheekbone in a mirror of Gavin’s movements from earlier.
“I guess you should,” Gavin responds, a smirk splitting his face unevenly.
This time, it’s Gavin who initiates, pulling Nines into a firm kiss, making him smile into it. He decides he will stay the night after all. Since the cats insist.