Work Text:
Zetta often spends too much time thinking about Kieran. His stupid smile, his stupid visor that always concealed his eyes, the stupid way he talked; oh, God – everything. He occupied so much of his mind, and it was almost like he was obsessed. He sure felt like it, with how he just couldn’t seem to focus on any of his work. He sees some of him in little things like cats and skateboards, embeds certain traits and habits into his own lifestyle, his personality; nothing super obvious, but it was still… there. All because of his influence.
He grips the pen in his hand a little tighter, nerves suddenly bubbling up to the surface even in the comfort of his own office work-space. How the hell did one android manage to worm his way into his life like this – no less, become an integral part of it? If he’d told himself several months ago that he’d fall for someone like this, he probably would’ve gotten backhanded from disbelief. He would’ve told himself to wise up, to get better standards; to ditch him. But, as always, he couldn’t help it. He was unable to tamper down those feelings whenever they arose, and trying to break the cycle felt impossible. It really did piss him off.
When he stops to pause and look over his newly started research document, his eyes widen and he immediately crumples it upon seeing the small hearts doodled onto the margin of the page. He doesn’t notice it, but his face burns from embarrassment at himself – oh, well. He’d just have to start from scratch and re-do it all over again. The paper is tossed into the trash, and he decides to take another crack at it. He didn’t know it just yet, but he’d be at this same repetitive task for at least an hour.
Zetta can never get a break. Not for long, when Kieran just loved to continuously wander the halls of Team Xen HQ. And when he wasn’t randomly exploring around or briefly bothering other people, he was making himself right at home wherever Zetta had decided to work for the day. This time, he decided it’d be best to take up space in the file-room right next to the executive, constantly peering over all of the different kinds of files as if he wanted to read them for himself. He keeps reaching a curious hand forward, only for it to be smacked away by the blonde without hesitation.
“Classified documents. You can’t look,” he scolds him, while keeping his hands ever-busy – rearranging a few more folders in alphabetical order. Kieran just smiles.
“You forgotten who I am?” he calmly inquires, “I work under the Madame, too. Here’s a reality check before you find a way to jam up my systems – I’m allowed to read whatever I’d like.”
“Does it look like I care?”
“Hey, if it makes your ears stop drooping – I probably already know all that information you’re sifting through. No point in heckling me over it.”
Zetta’s grip on the current folder he’s holding tightens. He shoots him an irritated glare, along with that angered frown of his – a signature look, really. He didn’t seem to smile a lot, did he? Oddly, Kieran wanted to fix that. He enjoyed his smiles just as much as he enjoyed his angered faces; any reaction was great for him to observe and analyze, really. He knew that Zetta had a much wider variety, too – only most of it was repressed. He wonders, even right now, some more potential ways to drag out new emotions from his favorite human toy. Sheer exasperation, maybe. His face already looked worn down, it was a good start.
“Total silence is the game, now? Your face says you wanna disassemble me,” he points out.
“I do.”
“Aww. I felt that in my circuits – my robotic feelings are hurt,” he continues smiling, clearly not affected in the slightest even as he places a hand onto his own chest semi-dramatically. “Between you and me, I like you a lot! Yet, all you do is pour salt into my vents.”
“Can it,” he promptly taps the folder of documents over his head – hard to take him seriously, when he hardly puts any effort into it. “Quit lying to me. Robots can’t even like things!”
“Then how come I like playing with you so much, puppy-dog?” a cheeky grin.
Butterflies flutter around in his stomach, but he doesn’t dare let them get the best of him. Not too much, at least – as he stammers out in return after snootily turning his head away from him with a huff; “Well, I don’t like you – so how about you go find a new toy? I’m not interested in being your plaything anymore, and that’s final. Period.”
“You keep saying that a lot lately,” the android fakes a frown, hiding his amusement; a surprisingly difficult task for someone like him. “I’ll take my leave, then. If puppy doesn’t wanna play tug of war, I can always try again later!”
Kieran turns around, already striding out the door in that stupidly always-confident manner. But Zetta shouts out a “wait”, haphazardly drops his folder onto one of the cabinets, and chases after him anyway. He fails to realize that he hadn’t even retorted against his nickname; it only hits him once Kieran ends up pointing it out when he finally catches up.
He remembers when Kieran showed him around East Gearen City, to let him take in the sights – and oddly enough, Zetta didn’t feel pressured to hurry up. He could simply enjoy himself. Nothing more, nothing less; and no one even attempted to bother them, thanks to the clever disguises they wore. They looked like a couple, walking around the streets and holding hands. It bothered him less than it should’ve, at the time.
It wasn’t the last time they’d have excursions like that, though. He’d been taking him there a lot lately thanks to some contest that put a heavy emphasis on Pokemon battling – the rotational kind, a Unova-exclusive trend that somehow had made its way over to Aevium. Not that he ever complained about it – they both got something out of it. Zetta finally got to participate in an official competition like he’d always wanted to, and Kieran got the prize of a Master Ball whether they won or lost. Yet another benefit of lacking a moral compass; heisting was always a nice backup option. Allegedly, he felt nothing but annoyance when hanging out with him – but the more they did it, and the more they teamed up together… the more memories that Zetta made.
Ones he could even dare call some of his favorites – days and sometimes even nights spent walking out of the contest building together, Zetta all amped up and Kieran with his hands casually tucked into the pockets of the coat he’d stolen from him. He recalls a recent time, late at night as they emerged from their third battle in the line-up – it’d lasted far longer than expected, but he wasn’t complaining about the extra time spent with Kieran.
“Oh, man – that ruled!” The disguised executive exclaims. “That Swampert of yours really hung in there even despite the damage it took, I think we had that one in the bag. We kicked ass!”
“You’re still energized, even after all that?”
“Yup. If anything, battling on the field so long like that just makes me more awake. Really gets my brain moving, ‘specially with how fast we have to strategize. I swear I could run five miles right now from all that,” Zetta confidently states, thumb pointed at his own chest with a prideful look.
“Heh – we must make a good team, if you’re not already tired from being around me all day.”
“I guess we do,” he reluctantly admits, “your battling style is surprisingly good. I mean, I think it’s kinda cool how–”
Kieran suddenly stops in his tracks, halting the two of them. Zetta cuts off his own sentence at the sudden change in pace and gives him a confused look, to which the android points up at the night-sky – and when he looks up along with him, he’s met with the moon surrounded in a blanket of vibrant stars. He pauses, taking in the view in a stunned silence. It seemed rather silly for him to stand here like this, mesmerized by a sight so simple; but he never stopped for even a moment to look.
“You don’t get to see this kind of thing a lot, right?” He gently takes Zetta’s hands into his own, trying to garner a reaction from him. “Thought I’d point it out for you.”
Kieran is met with a surprised stare – the words escaping the man right across from him, dissipating right as he’s about to say them. He could’ve kissed him out of gratitude right then and there as a reply; but he didn’t. He only averted eye contact as soon as it was initially made, uncharacteristically shy as an air of silence floated about the duo. He really did hate feeling so small and unsure of what to say – tangled up in an emotionally conflicted web of his own making. Why couldn’t he speak? Why couldn’t he simply look at him like he wanted to? He swallows down the lump feeling in his throat, murmuring out;
“Thanks… for that. I– I had a lot of fun today, y’know.”
“I do know! You wrote it all over your face. Not much of a surprise to me.” a grin.
Zetta attempts to hide a smile, to no avail. Kieran always knew just how to ruin the moment – and it really did make him angry, so why couldn’t he show that? He glances downwards, trying to hide the blushy amusement that snuck onto his face.
“Are you ever going to stop being in denial? Just curious,” Kieran comments, managing to get a little laugh out of Zetta. He could certainly picture him covering his face from flustered embarrassment right then and there, if his hands weren’t already busy holding his.
“You’re so unserious,” he mumbles out, with a soft smile on his face.
“Hey, that rhymed! Anyway – I know that, too.”
“Haha – oh, God,” Zetta emits a little groan, “Now I’m really getting exhausted, I feel it catching up and you’re definitely not helping.”
“That’s what I do best! Ready to go home?”
Zetta only nods, finally able to look back up and meet his gaze – and when he does, his heart melts for him. He’s falling for him, and it’s confusing and overwhelming and tangles his heart in knots; but he doesn’t even want to stop it. He doesn’t want any of this to end. Him and his stupid face, and his stupid eyes; and the stupid way that he talked. He was starting to grow weirdly fond of it all.
He liked to recall those memories, nowadays. Every single one.
And at that realization, he thinks that maybe he’s in love – puppy love. If that were the case, it’d all pass and fade away eventually. It was only a temporary phase, and he found some odd sense of comfort in that. He lays in his bed alone, staring up at the ceiling. Lost in the haze of convincing himself time and time again that he didn’t like Kieran that much, but rather only a little.
A soft sigh. Already halfway through another month, yet he still had a lot to figure out. It was exhausting, having a human brain – having to think as if his life depended on it. Every now and then, he wishes there was a magical switch to turn off his thoughts; but then, of course, he’d never be able to get anything done. And then he’d just end up getting executed. That wouldn’t be ideal for anyone, would it?
But when the door creaks open and Kieran decides to simply invite himself in and cuddle up right next to him – yes, even despite Zetta’s drowsy, denial-filled protests – his thoughts are interrupted, and he supposes that maybe puppy love isn’t such a bad thing after all. And maybe it was nice to have someone who could teach him how to live a little, teach him how to turn off his complicated thoughts for a moment or two. Yeah… even if that someone did nothing but bother him, annoy him until his last nerve was reached. He was a part of his life now, no matter how much he fought against it.
He closes his eyes, and decides that he’d take a moment to live in the present for now. And, miraculously, it’s easier to fall asleep as soon as he does.