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WX-78 is able to take exactly three steps into their apartment before they are brutally assaulted by their partner.
The hug that Wilson has so violently enveloped them in has enough force to nearly knock them back out of the doorway, and they smile at the intense display of affection.
“YES, YES. I WOULD BE HAPPY TO SEE ME TOO,” they say warmly, placing their bags on the floor and closing the door behind them. They return the favor, slinking their arms around his waist and knocking their head onto his chest.
He clings to them harder, leaning down to rest his head on their shoulder as he mumbles something.
“HM?”
“I’m.. I missed you,” he says, breaking the hug to make eye contact with them. “I am happy to see you.”
He smiles at them with such a genuine look of affection that they are helpless to do anything but smile back.
Sensing the opportunity for a joke, however, their expression quickly changes to condescending.
“I WAS ONLY GONE FOR A WEEK. CLINGY MUCH?”
“Yes,” he says, hastily wrapping his arms around them again to emphasize the answer. They smile and relax back into it, noting how nice the fabric of his hoodie feels rubbing against their faceplate.
After some time, they break the hug again, and Wilson whines in response. WX-78 pats his shoulder and huffs a laugh, which only earns them a pout from the man before them. They make their way towards the bedroom, carrying with them a suitcase and some grocery bags.
Wilson follows them closely, resembling a lost puppy or perhaps a baby duckling.
They place their bags on the pair’s shared bed and begin to unzip it, and feel a pair of arms wrap around them from behind.
They look up behind them, and Wilson makes eye contact with them.
“C’mon, don’t you want to relax a little first?” He asks, eyeing the bed in a way that is about as subtle as a jet engine starting up.
“IF I UNPACK NOW, THERE WILL BE TIME FOR RELAXATION LATER. IF WE RELAX NOW, YOU WILL NOT LET ME GET UP UNTIL MORNING. I KNOW YOU, FLESHLING,” they say, unzipping it all the way.
He looks at them sadly, eyebrows raised and lips poised in a way that they know is intentionally manipulative.
They look away, taking the first item out of their suitcase. A hand rests on top of theirs, and they make eye contact with him.
Big mistake. His pouty, begging expression draws from them a type of compassion that no one else could dream to ever witness. And he knows it.
I will not be manipulated by a fleshling. I will not be manipulated by a fleshling. I will not-
Wilson, somehow, manages to look even more pathetic and sad, gripping their hand and furrowing his brows in a way that is so sad it borders on comical, and they give in. WX-78 raises their hands up in defense.
“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. COOL IT WITH THE KICKED PUPPY LOOK,” they say. “I JUST NEED TO PUT A FEW THINGS AWAY, AND THEN WE CAN- “
“Can’t it wait?” He interrupts, pushing their hand back down into the open suitcase.
“IT COULD, HYPOTHETICALLY, BUT ONLY FOR A VERY GOOD REASON.”
“I want to cuddle with you and I don’t want to wait. Is that a good enough reason?” He asks, placing their hand on the bed and zipping the suitcase back up. Slowly, as if they won’t see it if he goes slowly enough.
They sigh, a feature they are so, so glad they programmed into their current body for such an occasion.
“FINE,” they say, “BUT YOU WILL UNPACK THIS FOR ME TOMORROW. DEAL?”
Wilson, who had dropped the act as soon as they spoke the first word, nods enthusiastically.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” he says, tossing their suitcase off of the bed and onto the floor.
“WHAT IF SOMETHING BREAKABLE WAS IN THERE?” They ask, in an attempt to sound angry with him but with no real heat behind the words. They scoot the suitcase into the corner of the room with their foot.
“All you packed was three sets of clothes and your phone charger. There’s nothing important in there,” Wilson says, moving the grocery bags on top of the suitcase. More gently, this time.
He zips across the room and looks into their shared closet, moving a few shirts around before apparently finding what he was looking for.
A sweater is thrown into their face moments later, and they switch from their jacket into it while Wilson clears the rest of the bed off.
“Here, here,” he says, now from their dresser drawer, throwing them a pair of their sweatpants.
“Get more comfortable, and then come on.” He hastily removes his slippers with his feet and crawls into the bed.
“ASKING ME TO UNDRESS IN FRONT OF YOU? AT LEAST TAKE ME TO DINNER FIRST,” they jest, but comply nonetheless.
“Yeah yeah, I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow. Just get over here so I can hold you,” he practically whines, sliding under the covers. He opens his arms and waves them over, and then pats his chest to emphasize exactly where they should lay.
WX-78 rolls their hollow eyes and unties their shoes, removing them and placing them neatly under the bed. They lay down on the bed next to him and settle under the covers. Without warning, they roughly drag Wilson from his back onto his side and onto their chassis. They wrap an arm around him, securely holding him to their chest.
He holds them back, relaxing into their grip immediately. Clearly, he did not mind being jostled around. WX-78 pulls the covers over the two of them and snuggles closer.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Wilson mumbles into their chest, nuzzling into them and gripping them tighter.
“ME TOO,” they say, and press their mouth to his forehead in their version of a kiss. “ME TOO.”