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The precinct was alive with the rare, boisterous energy that only came after a big win. Fowler, in a rare show of generosity, had given the squad permission to blow off steam at Jimmy’s, and nearly everyone was taking advantage of it. Hank had somehow convinced even the androids to come out, and the sight of Connor at the bar nursing a tumbler of plain water was one of the night’s many amusements.
Nines, however, stood at a distance, his stoic face illuminated by the dim lights, watching Hank and Connor across the bar. He couldn’t quite explain it, but something about their easy camaraderie unsettled him. Hank was laughing, hand clamped on Connor’s shoulder, and Connor’s LED flashed yellow as he tried to navigate some long-winded anecdote Hank was telling him. The two were close. They were… family, almost. Connor looked at Hank as though the gruff detective hung the stars, and Hank’s eyes, softened by the drink, returned that affection in full.
Nines swallowed, feeling something suspiciously close to envy tighten in his processors. They hadn’t known each other all that long, he reminded himself, scanning the rest of the room as if he’d see a pair like them anywhere else. But it was there in every little exchange: Hank, lifting a glass and nudging Connor as if encouraging him to have a sip, Connor politely refusing and laughing at Hank’s antics. It was as though they’d known each other forever.
And yet, here he was, alone at the edge of the room, his partner nowhere near him. He cast a glance over to Gavin, who was laughing loudly with Tina and Chris, his hair already mussed, his cheeks flushed. They were only four months into this partnership, but Nines already felt weary. Gavin had made it clear that he didn’t care much for androids, and though they worked together effectively, the tension always lingered.
He could practically hear Gavin’s mocking voice in his head, from that last argument they’d had on the rooftop just days ago. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Perfect Android, but if I wanted a critique on how to secure a suspect, I’d ask a human.” That argument had ended with Gavin storming off while Nines stayed behind, processing a new level of frustration. It didn’t matter how strong or fast he was. To Gavin, he’d always be a tool.
“...Niiinnnnesss!”
The android jolted out of his thoughts, a small jolt to his processors as he turned to see Gavin stumbling toward him, face split in a lopsided grin, clearly well beyond “buzzed.” Before Nines could react, Gavin threw his arms around him, clutching him in an unsteady, surprisingly strong grip.
“Oh, look at these pecs!” Gavin slurred, his cheek pressing against Nines’ chest as he gave a satisfied sigh. “You're like… perfect, you know that? Strong, handsome, just like… a statue. Or a… really well-made fridge.”
The comparison wasn’t flattering, but Nines couldn’t help feeling the faintest flicker of something he couldn't name. Gavin’s words were nothing more than alcohol-fueled ramblings, surely, but they stirred something all the same. The detective’s hands were clutching his back, not letting him pull away, and the sincerity—drunk as it was—felt strange. Alien... Warm.
Nines cleared his throat, his LED cycling a few uneasy shades of yellow. “Detective Reed, perhaps you should release me. You’re… drawing attention.” He shifted his gaze to the rest of the room, where half the squad was watching, openly grinning. Tina had her phone out, cackling.
“Oh, I don’t care!” Gavin laughed, shaking his head as he clung even tighter. “I love you, Nines! You’re the best partner a guy could ask for. And you smell like… like one of those fancy new cars. You ever notice that? So shiny, so strong… so good.”
The words were tumbling out with reckless abandon, each compliment more inane than the last. He could see Tina snickering into her drink, and Chris was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. In the background Nines thought he heard Hank coughing on his drink while Connor rubbed his back, the man clearly having quite the reaction to what was happening. This whole scene was already spiraling out of control, and yet—Nines felt himself wanting to let it play out.
But he had his partner’s reputation to consider. “Detective,” he muttered quietly, “it might be best if I took you home.”
Gavin looked up, wide-eyed, his mouth set in a dramatic pout. “No! Not yet. I wanna keep drinking. Wanna keep drinking with you, you big, fancy, shiny tin can!” He wrapped his arms more firmly around Nines, his voice a drunken plea. “Stay with me, Nines. I don’t care who sees. Just stay.”
A tiny smile—only barely there—crossed Nines’ lips, unnoticed by anyone but himself. “Alright, but only if I take you home first. If you want, I… I’ll carry you.”
Gavin’s expression lit up like a child at Christmas, and with a clumsy little hop, he was suddenly half-slinging himself into Nines’ arms, pressing up against his chest. “You’re the best, y’know that? Carrying me like some prince. Or knight. Or… no, definitely a prince. And you smell good too,” he added with a sleepy grin.
It was ridiculous. Nines couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, walking out of Jimmy’s with Gavin practically draped over him like some overgrown child. Tina called after him, “Reed’s address is… you know what? Just use GPS. Good luck, Nines!”
The door closed behind them, and Nines maneuvered Gavin into the car, trying his best to settle him in without spilling him onto the seat. Reaching into Gavin’s coat pocket for his keys, he felt Gavin shift, his bleary eyes looking up with a grin. “Hey, hey, hands to yourself there, tin can! You’re bein’ real… naughty.”
Nines could feel his face flush a distinct, embarrassed blue. “I’m merely trying to make sure you get home safely, Detective. And if you would keep your hands to yourself, this would be much easier.”
But Gavin only grinned wider, reaching up to pat Nines’ chest. “Aw, but where’s the fun in that? You gotta learn to loosen up a bit, big guy. And hey, thanks for… you know, putting up with me. You’re a… what’s the word? A saint.” Gavin’s eyes softened slightly, his tone shifting, a hint of sincerity slipping through his haze of drunkenness. “You’re the best partner. Really.”
The comment caught Nines off-guard. Did Gavin actually… mean that? Sure, he could chalk it up to the alcohol, but the thought lingered all the same. He drove quietly, the words echoing as he considered other moments, little gestures Gavin had made. Once, after a rough takedown, Gavin had clapped him on the shoulder, muttering something about “hell of a job,” but he’d brushed it off as incidental. Another time, he’d told Nines to leave early after a long shift, saying he’d take care of the paperwork himself. Nines had never thought much of these gestures, but now, he wasn’t so sure.
When they reached Gavin’s apartment, Nines walked around to the passenger side, only to find Gavin waiting, arms outstretched. “Uppies!” he demanded, making grabby hands, and Nines sighed, carefully lifting the detective onto his back in a secure piggyback hold.
Inside, Nines navigated through the dim apartment, finally setting Gavin on the bed and carefully removing his shoes, one at a time. The detective lay back with a soft sigh, his eyes drooping but still watching Nines through half-closed lids, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Aw, look at you, takin’ my shoes off… you’re a naughty tin can,” he mumbled, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “Tryin’ to seduce me, huh?”
Nines straightened, his LED flaring an indignant shade of red and yellow. “Absolutely not, Detective. I’m only trying to make you comfortable.”
Gavin’s smirk faded into something softer, his eyes unfocused but genuine. “You’re always tryin’ to take care of me. Don’t know why you’d bother.”
There was something raw and unguarded in the way he said it, a glimpse of the vulnerable person hidden beneath the brashness. For a moment, Nines hesitated, the question hovering in his processors: Why did he care? He could easily leave, fulfill his duty as Gavin’s partner without getting tangled in the complexities of human emotion. And yet…
Nines cleared his throat. “You’re my partner,” he replied, as though that simple phrase could encapsulate all the reasons that kept him there, kept him steady at Gavin’s side. It was duty, yes—but it was also something more, something he wasn’t yet prepared to analyze too closely.
Gavin’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked almost childlike, his usual sharpness blunted by exhaustion and vulnerability. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, glancing away. “Just… stay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hate waking up and not remembering anything. And… I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”
Nines studied him in silence, processing the rare show of honesty. Beneath all the bravado and biting humor, Gavin was—human. Human in a way Nines was only beginning to understand. “Alright,” he replied quietly, slipping off his jacket and settling onto the bed beside him.
Gavin gave a faint, sleepy grin, and without much preamble, he rolled over and curled against Nines’ side, tucking his head against the android’s chest. His breath was warm against the cool fabric of Nines’ shirt, and he murmured, almost too low to hear, “You’re… comfy, y’know that?”
Nines hesitated, then shifted slightly to rest a steady hand on Gavin’s waist. It felt strange, unfamiliar to lie so close, to feel the slow rhythm of his partner’s breathing against him, but not unpleasant. There was an odd comfort in the closeness, as if the tension that always existed between them had melted away, leaving only the quiet peace of the moment.
For a while, neither of them moved. Gavin’s breathing slowed, his body relaxed, and a quiet, almost inaudible snore escaped him. Nines’ LED flickered from yellow to a steady blue as he watched Gavin sleep, his usual rough edges softened in sleep. And as he lay there, Nines realized with a faint jolt that, for the first time, he didn’t mind being Gavin Reed’s partner—not in the slightest.