Work Text:
The camera lens Chase stares down may as well be another eye.
A mechanical one, or one for a different dimension to peer into this world. What interest it may take in Chase of all beings, Chase does not know. He could wager a few guesses — using his abilities, or taking notes on his appearance — but neither sound particularly interesting.
Or, they’re looking for a robot in love.
Chase can recognise that the air is much more cold than it has been all week, as he leans against the railing of an unfamiliar building. Perhaps, in a past life, he had fought here, screamed hatred in tongues foreign even to him. Currently, however, he attempts to look not at the lens of the camera Go is behind, but just off.
Go, due to being human, requires the additional muffler, jacket, gloves and hat to continue his work in the cold. Each mismatch just slightly — blues and whites that cannot agree on how warm or cold they are — and yet, Chase cannot help but process the idea of it suiting him. Much like how many things suit Go, really.
Chase is certain that he would not have bothered even thinking of this years ago. All this could be considered mundane to someone unaccustomed to it, unworthy of notice. But going around with Go and the camera in Go’s hand, Chase reckons, means Chase is able to pick apart each small detail day by day.
That is the easy part. Coming to love them is hard by his initial programming, but this, too, is easier as time passes.
“I’ve got so many candids of you,” Go had said at the start of today, “But I haven’t got a single one where you’re posing for me! Come on, it’s not like you’re doing anything right now.”
Right now, a few hours after he had said that, he rotates the lens of the camera some more. From this distance, it may possibly be the zoom ring that he moves back and forth, but Chase still has not gotten the grip of which ring is which. He ought to get Go to sit and explain sometime.
“Roidmudes don’t get cold, huh?” Go chirps, looking up at Chase.
Chase responds, “I feel an absence of warmth compared to yesterday, but it does not interfere with my functions.”
There is no hurt in Go’s voice when he chuckles. It is some of the lightest Chase has ever heard it to be, truly carefree. This version of Go — the one that's been around when it's just those two, behind closed doors or in open fields — seems to be far more content than any other.
If Chase remembers correctly, witnessing these are part of the duties assigned to the title of boyfriend.
“Darn,” Go says, “I was hoping your nose would get all red.”
Another thing humans seem to find adorable: noses growing red in the cold, bursts of blood swimming up to the surface to warm the skin. Absent in Roidmudes, which Go does not seem to truly mind.
Before Chase can process any related information any further, the shutter of Go’s camera goes off.
Go asks, “Look up for me?”
Looking up, there are sheets of grey blanketing the sky for almost everywhere to see. A jagged section of blue pokes out from behind Go, drifting away by the second. Chase is sure that the masses below must be moping the coming of the clouds — moping about rain, or the healing light of the sun going away.
Go had noticed that on the forecast, earlier today. It is likely that Go had chosen today to ask Chase on such matters merely from looking at it; from previous musings, overcast weather brings forth opportunities of soft lighting. Without additional lighting, or the sun to laugh in a photographer’s face about ruined photographs.
The clouds dutifully head onwards, swirling lazily here and there. Everything around here seems to have somewhere to go. Then, what of the two the clouds glaze over, not going anywhere?
Chase, for one, looks to the sky. The question of what Go is doing can only be hypothetical — taking photographs is an assumption. To surely answer the question, as well as indulge, Chase chances a glance downwards.
The shutter goes off the second he does. Go squints at the camera, fiddling with it some more, doing it all with a look of concentration that Chase has grown to recognise as adorable.
“There we go. This one’s really nice!” Go announces.
Chase frowns and asks, “Was the previous one unsatisfactory, Go?”
“Nope,” Go taps the camera, “This one’s for me.”
“Every one of these is for you.”
“I know, I know, But that face you were making!”
Chase instantly reaches for his own cheek with his hand — nothing out of the ordinary. Apart from this being a rather human response, but that would be considered more right than wrong.
“Was I making a face?” Chase inquires.
“Not really.”
Contrary to that, Go’s eyes crinkle.
“But you looked like you wanted to smile,” Go finishes.
Looked like. Even by now, its contexts are something Chase has yet to grasp fully. Humans seem adept at picking out things from nothing, often prefaced with ‘looked like,’ Go especially so. Chase supposes this would be the case for a photographer, being able to pick up minute details.
But Go uses that on other things. You looked happy. You looked like you wanted to kiss me there. You. You.
“Oh,” Chase says, stupidly.
“Yeah. In your eyes- actually, get over here, it’s easier if I point it out.”
Leaning off the railing, Chase strides over to Go, and stands awkwardly. It is not until Go pulls him down that he realises he should have squatted — it brings a better view of the camera’s screen.
In it, Chase holds himself in a relaxed manner, softened by the clouds above. He looks beyond the camera, and there’s a surefire gleam in his eyes, one that humans reserve for the apples of their eye.
Looked like. Looked like. Indeed, Chase had looked like he was just shy of smiling.
“See?” Go says.
This, Chase decides, is a start.