Work Text:
In most regards, Nines and Gavin Reed were opposites. But though their temperaments couldn’t be more polar, and their hearts beat different blood, there was one thing they strikingly shared.
Neither knew what the fuck to do about Valentine’s Day.
--
Nines paced Gavin’s kitchen while eggs sizzled on the front burner. In the four months since their partnership transformed into something more, Gavin’s apartment had experienced its own changes. A few of Nines’ plants decorated the kitchen and living room, as far from Asshole the Cat’s hungry fangs as they could muster. Over time, Nines subtly interfaced with a few of Gavin’s digital picture frames, and uploaded pictures of them. And, in addition to food, there was a regular supply of thirium in the fridge.
Although Nines retained his own residence – a small studio on the west side of Detroit built specifically for androids – he often found himself considering Gavin’s place home .
Gavin, in all regards, was home.
He knew Gavin had survived over thirty Februarys, but never mentioned any significance of Valentine’s Day…or their own personal milestones achieved on the holiday…in the prior weeks. He could already preconstruct Gavin’s response – “ What the hell, tin can? S’just another day in the goddamn winter.”
Still, the idea of neglecting Gavin during a holiday for lovers was not in Nines’ programming. Perhaps years later, with many Valentine’s behind them, they would have a mutual understanding about how to approach the holiday. But on his very first chance to celebrate it, he was at least going to give it a try.
His nose detected a hint of smoke in the air – carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide, hydrocarbons – and his focus zoomed to the slightly burning eggs. With panicked speed, he gave them a final stir with a wooden spatula and slid them onto a nearby plate.
Eggs were a nice gesture, as were the brewing coffee and two slices of bread in the toaster, but they were nothing special. Nines made breakfast for Gavin nearly every time he spent the night. Today, he could start with one extra step - actually bringing it to Gavin in bed.
Nines balanced everything he cooked on a plastic platter and guided it to Gavin’s small bedroom. As he lowered the platter onto the end table, Gavin yawned and stirred awake. Nines leaned over him, smiling gently.
“Good morning, Gavin.”
“Morning, tin can.”
Nines continued to admire Gavin as no one else saw him – hair unstyled and a mess of curls, a lazy smirk on his face, and authentic tenderness in his sleepy eyes. Love was such a strange, backwards mystery. Before they got together, he’d wanted Gavin so badly and admired his features so unanimously, that he couldn’t imagine feeling more. But that was only the beginning. Every day held a new and beautiful thing to observe about Gavin Reed. A new thing to love or store in his memory banks. A new curtain Gavin would allow him behind. The Gavin he’d actually fallen in love with all those months ago was a stranger in comparison to the man he knew currently.
Gavin glanced at the tray on his nightstand. “You made me breakfast again?”
“Yes, it’s a sign of affection.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll show you a sign of affection.”
Gavin grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down. Nines caught his balance just in time to receive the kiss, and not crush his human with two hundred pounds of titanium.
Nines relaxed, kissing Gavin longer than most anyone would consider essential, but he’d come to realize life wasn’t a contest between necessary and unnecessary tasks. Part of deviancy was recognizing the things he wanted simply because he wanted them. Enjoying things for enjoyments’ sake.
He very much enjoyed kissing Gavin.
Eventually, he pulled up to let his human breathe, in more ways than one. There was always a tinge of red across Gavin’s cheeks after a tender moment, and Gavin never quite met his gaze after. Eye contact was something they were still working on. But at least Gavin had come around to admitting his honest feelings, even if he couldn’t always look at Nines when he revealed them.
Gavin sat up, and Nines scooted over to accommodate. His circuits buzzed a little, waiting for Gavin to connect the dots. Of why he was bringing him breakfast in bed specifically, of why he was bothering to feed Gavin on their day off with no work to rush to, of why-
“Is that a fuckin’ rose?”
-why he included a thin vase with a red flower on the platter.
Nines tilted his head, resisting the urge to scan Gavin’s vocal inflections for signs of distress. “It’s actually a fucking tulip, Detective.”
Gavin snorted. “Is there a difference?”
“Tulips are longer-lasting than roses, making them more practical.” Nines hesitated, drumming his fingers idly on his knee. “Additionally, roses symbolize, uh…passionate love, while tulips symbolize chaste and unconditional love, which seems more…indicative of how I feel for you, I suppose.”
He knew there weren’t literal cogs in Gavin’s mind – not the way there were in his own. But for a moment, Nines felt like he could see Gavin’s moving. After a moment of silent contemplation, Gavin groaned and rubbed his forehead.
“Ah, shit. It’s Valentine's?”
He got up from the bed, pacing about his room. Nines watched him, and every fan in his body felt like it whirred at once.
“You didn’t know the date?”
“Nothing gets past my terminator, huh?” Gavin rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t do Valentine’s, okay? The only people who celebrate it are kids and dipshits. I know this is your first time, so you didn’t know, and I shoulda told you, but all this heart flowers bullshit—”
“It’s not my first Valentine’s Day.”
“—is just the candy companies trying to—wait, what?”
“I said, it isn’t my first Valentine’s Day. It’s my second. I spent my first one with you as well.”
Gavin ran a hand through his hair, dismissing him. “Of course you probably did. When haven’t you been attached to my hip?”
“It wasn’t just work. We saw each other outside of work. We ‘hung out.’ For the very first time, actually.”
“Hold up…so that’s why you wanna celebrate Valentine’s? Because a year ago I ate some takeout and we watched I, Robot ?”
Nines bristled, and his voice felt squeaky. “I almost regard that day as our first date, so yes."
Gavin looked away from him and grabbed the breakfast platter. “C’mon, tin can. I don’t wanna get cat hair in this.”
Nines frowned, following Gavin into the kitchen. Was that really it? True, Gavin was not the type to make a big deal out of tradition or sentiment, but surely that night had meant something to him. He allowed Gavin time to get settled on one of the kitchen stools and have a couple sips of coffee before he pressed the issue again.
“It sounds like you might remember that day differently than I do.”
Gavin scoffed around a mouthful of eggs. “Nines…”
“Detective.”
After a moment of grumbling, Gavin swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Look, I don’t like thinkin’ bout all that shit we did before. Me…mostly. Stuff I did, stuff I said. Dunno why you’re so nostalgic for me threatening to punch a hole in you.”
“I didn’t feel threatened by that. You never would have succeeded. Probably would have broken your hand.” Nines smiled, settling on the other kitchen stool beside Gavin. His expression softened, as Gavin continued to dodge his gaze. “But it isn’t your anger I remember about that day. It’s what you told me at the end of it. You were the first human to ever tell me I was alive, and free. You showed me the first movie I’d ever seen. It was the day I abandoned my Cyberlife jacket, and you called me Nines for the first time…”
“Alright, maybe it wasn’t so bad. I guess I forgot about that part.”
“I’m curious to hear what you didn't forget.”
Gavin nudged his knee with a foot. “You know what they say about curiosity.”
“Be curious, not judgmental?”
“What? No…I…ugh. Fine….”
--
FEBRUARY 14th, 2039
Goddamn motherfucking thirty-degree weather. Gavin sucked in a warm breath of chemical smoke, but it did nothing to ebb the chill. He leaned against a wall, delicately balancing a disposable cup of coffee, his cigarette, and his cell phone. A heavy wind cut straight through him, leather jacket be damned.
His Fowler-assigned pet android, RK900, watched him judgmentally from the street curb.
“We’re going to be late, Detective. Are you ready to head to the scene, or must I throw you over my shoulder?”
Always with the jabs. Gavin stomped out his cigarette, but it didn’t stop the poison from rising within him. “I can’t believe they spent a half million dollars programming you to be such an asshole.”
“I’m not certain whether that’s part of my programming or an adaptation to working with you.”
Probably the latter. At first, Gavin felt a snide sense of accomplishment at having conditioned one of Cyberlife’s most advanced machines to become a sarcastic, witty prick. But he’d done too good a job. Yet again, that overpriced, overdesigned, annoyingly handsome chunk of silicone had the last word. Three months – the longest he’d ever had a partner – and 900 couldn’t go two minutes without insulting him.
At least he could tolerate someone who was as much of an asshole as he was. A people-pleaser like Connor or a do-gooder like Officer Chris Miller…no way. He couldn’t go half a day enduring their sweet charming shit.
Their work that day was routine. Another crime scene, another dead android, another lecture from Chris about how he should be ‘nicer’. Of course, Chris didn’t understand his dynamic with 900. From the outside, yeah, it looked like they hated each other. In truth, it was just their thing. It was how they communicated.
Still, as he told Chris, 900 continued to confuse the hell out of him. Why would the android who had moved farthest away from his base programming – abandoning all pretense of being friendly or submissive – still wear his creepy Cyberlife jacket like some kind of servant?
And even more confusingly, after months of investigating brutal scenes and android murders, there was something about that scene which had Nines troubled. From the moment he knelt beside the VB800’s remains, to the moment they got to the station, his LED remained a striking red.
--
Every day for three months, RK900 had been over Gavin’s shoulder, breathing down his neck, and quipping digs at his performance every ten seconds. The android was one all-knowing, all-present motherfucker, and Gavin had nearly forgotten what it felt like to hear himself think.
Until, after a half hour of silence and the android being nowhere in sight, it dawned on him that shit was wrong.
Gavin glanced up from his desk, hazel eyes scanning the bullpen. Chris sat quietly logging evidence, Tina was on her phone texting Valerie again, and no one was lurking around Anderson and Connor’s desks. Fowler’s office remained empty, with the lights off.
He got up from his desk and wandered into the breakroom, where 900 sat quietly at one of the tables. The android held his badge in both hands, and that LED still burned red as a fire. Gavin wandered past him, purposefully avoiding acknowledgement, and busied himself with the coffee machine.
None of this was in character for 900. No cracks about Gavin’s caffeine addiction, no warnings about coffee’s effect on his blood pressure. In fact, just seeing 900 sit still, instead of bustling around the office with endless stamina, felt eerie. He thought back to the scene today. VB800 limbs scattered all the way through an alley, thirium in gushing trails...yeah, it was pretty gruesome. Maybe especially gruesome for his rookie partner who saw himself in the victim.
Gavin considered throwing out a jibe – “Goofing off in the breakroom instead of working? Thought androids didn’t need breaks!” – but even before it left his lips, he stopped. The timing didn’t feel right for nastiness, even in jest.
He poured some coffee. He was running out of time and plausible deniability for being in there.
“Tell me what’s wrong with you”? Nah, way too aggressive. Too direct. What if 900 didn’t want to talk to him? Hell why would 900 want to talk to him? All he was good for was trading insults and solving crime. They didn’t talk about anything deeper than that. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.
He was out of time. And now, he could be the partner who ignored 900 entirely, or he could be the one to say something, anything-
“You wanna talk about it?”
There. That wasn’t so bad. Neutral. Open-ended. Leaving the floor open.
“About the case?”
Goddammit, Nines. Gavin clenched his fists. Don’t make me explain this.
“About seeing one of your people torn to pieces.”
He turned around with his full cup of coffee, nodding at the android. Sure, he was blunt, but if 900 needed things spelled out for him, it worked.
“It’s not the first time I’ve seen a dead android, Detective.”
Gavin’s impatience grew on a cellular level, raising his blood pressure in every vein. This wasn’t like them, to dance around something. Why couldn’t 900 just spit it out?
“Yeah, but it’s a bit different this time, isn’t it?”
“I’m fine, Gavin.”
Cold and mechanical, just like he walked out of the box. With one exception – the formality of “Detective” had been dropped. A power move, probably, to use Gavin’s name for the first time in his memory.
That was about as much courtesy as Gavin was capable of giving, and he slammed his coffee cup on the counter. “Come on! I saw your face back there. You were as pale as your goddamn jacket. Don’t act like you didn’t feel something.”
There was no going back after that. Within moments, they were in each other’s faces again, yelling so hard the building probably shook, until 900 crushed his badge in unfettered rage.
Gavin grit his teeth to keep from showing how much that shook him. “Fucking androids,” he muttered, shoving past Nines and exiting the breakroom.
So that’s what caring got him, huh? That’s what happened when he tried to look out for his partner, to check on his well-being, to point out 900’s unusual behavior?
Why did he ever bother with relationships of any sort? It always ended this way.
--
THE PRESENT
“You were worried about me?” Nines’ LED spun yellow, processing the new information. “That’s what that was about?”
Gavin waved his fork around. “Obviously!”
“Gavin, I mean this in the most loving way possible – I hate you.”
“You l—”
“Yes, I love you, but I also very much hate you.”
“Okay, here’s the thing.” Gavin jumped off his stool, his breakfast abandoned. He paced, as he always did when he felt passionate about what he was saying. And Nines smiled at the ritual, endeared by Gavin’s energy. “What else was I supposed to say? I literally asked if you wanted to talk about it.”
“And I said I was fine.”
“But you weren’t!”
“I…” Nines LED briefly turned red. Hmm, that had stumped him. “I guess I never realized you were being sincere? At the time, I thought you were trying to get a rise out of me. To flaunt that android’s death in my face. To use my lack of externalizing as proof that I wasn’t alive.”
Gavin stopped pacing, his hands on his hips. Before he could look more deflated, Nines quickly added a postscript.
“But I misjudged you, Gavin. I shouldn’t have assumed your intentions were hostile, when you were attempting to give me an olive branch. If I’d just admitted what I felt, we could have avoided that fight.”
“Eh. Hindsight’s 20/20. Or 850/20 – whatever the fuck you call yours.”
“Very amusing.”
They exchanged a mutual smile, a moment of warmth. Gavin returned to his seat, his knees brushing slightly against Nines’.
“I guess I can’t blame you, either. If you thought I was fucking with you, I’d probably given you a good reason.”
“We took awhile to understand each other. We both know that. It’s all in the past now.”
Gavin looked skyward, lost in another memory. “You know, the rest of that day was kinda funny. Tina knew what was up before either of us did.”
Nines arched an eyebrow. “Tina?”
--
FEBRUARY 14th, 2039
“I’m done, T. If Fowler wasn’t in Chicago this weekend, I’d march into his office and request a new partner. That plastic prick is insane!”
Tina hardly looked up from the notepad she was writing on. “What did he do now? Charge your coffee with static electricity?”
Gavin sat on the edge of her desk, knocking over her pen jar without a care. “He crushed his badge in one hand, right in front of me. That coulda been my face.”
“Jesus, Gavin. What’d you say to make him do that?”
“It was a dumb fight. Made no fuckin’ sense. These bastards march in the streets for months sayin’ they can feel, and they’re alive, and they’ve got empathy, and all this human shit. But I get this guy, who sees an android ripped to shreds at a crime scene, nearly blue screens to death, and then tells me it doesn’t bother him? Why the fuck would he lie about feeling something, huh? If he was so goddamn proud of being a person, you think he’d be shouting it from the rooftops.”
Tina rolled her eyes, ripping the page she was drawing out of her notepad and wadding it into a ball. “You’re seriously asking me why someone would hide their emotions? YOU? Fuck’s sake, Gavin, you have the emotional intelligence of an alpaca.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tina tossed the ball of paper at his head. “It means that he’s probably not sure what emotions he feels comfortable sharing with you yet. Especially when you’re giving him the third degree. Just tell him you’re here if he needs to talk, and leave him alone. Eventually he’ll take you up on it.”
As Gavin contemplated it, his feet dangling over the edge of her desk, Tina smirked. She stood up, with an empty coffee mug in hand. “Leave it to you to have a lover’s quarrel on Valentine's Day.”
Gavin’s eyes jerked up, watching her ponytail swish behind her as she walked away. “It’s fucking Valentine’s Day?!”
She ignored him, leaving him alone with the paper she’d slugged at his head. He pulled apart the wrinkled ball, and once the paper was unfolded, her masterpiece became clear – a simple heart taking up the entire page, with G 9 written in the middle of it.
--
PRESENT
“Oh,” Nines began slowly, leaning on the breakfast bar. “So, it makes perfect sense why she suggested I bring you dinner.”
“She’s been in on this shit since day one. She was already calling you my husband at that point.”
“How could she know, that early on?”
Gavin snorted. “Guess she just knew me.”
--
FEBRUARY 14th, 2039
Standing on Gavin’s doorstep later that night, without his white Cyberlife jacket, was RK900.
Annoyance rose in Gavin’s chest, and he nearly moved to slam the door in 900’s face. All he could hear were those biting words from their earlier fight – “You’re weak, Reed. You’re a slave to your vices, you’re cruel for the sake of it. You expect me to be as much of a disaster as you, and you’re bitter that I’m not!”
But all he could see was an unrecognizably timid android in his doorway, his facial expression contorted into an awkward attempt at a smile. Like the muscles in his face weren’t used to it. And without the imposing synthetic jacket, he looked…smaller.
“Good evening, Detective.”
Gavin squinted, sizing him up. “What, you hacked my work computer to figure out where I live?”
“Actually, Officer Chen told me.”
He pictured Tina lounging smugly at her desk, drawing a heart on her notepad. Of fucking course she did.
As harsh as Gavin was, some things still evoked pity from him. Mostly stray animals that lingered outside his apartment building. And now that 900 fell into that category, he couldn’t stop himself from inviting the android inside from the cold.
--
On one hand, Gavin felt a dope sense of satisfaction at having RK900 on his porch, fessing up to all of his internal struggle. He was a great detective for a reason, and his intuition was never wrong. It made it all the more satisfying to listen to 900 fill in the gaps he’d been missing, confirming all his suspicions correct. The crime scene had disturbed 900. It reminded him of the android hunter he was built to be.
On the other hand, Tina was absolutely right about leaving the floor open for 900 to start that conversation on his own terms. Which was pretty annoying. Of course Gavin wouldn’t tell her she’d been right.
Once RK900 finished unloading his thoughts, Gavin studied his willowy frame. He really did look less robotic, less distant without that jacket. With his LED facing away from Gavin, he seemed entirely…human.
“Look, I know you’ve got internet in your brain or whatever but…you’ve gotta figure out what you want. And the only way to figure out what you want is…you’ve gotta just live a little.”
It was the type of advice you’d find on a cereal box, but he never claimed to be a therapist. And regardless of how basic a platitude it was, RK900 seemed to resonate with it.
“Perhaps you’re right.” RK900 held his hands in a tight ball on his lap. “I’m sorry about taking my frustration out on you, today.”
He wasn’t expecting an apology to happen, but now that it had, he felt like he owed one back.
“Yeah Nines. I’m sorry too.”
Ah, fuck. Sometimes in his own head, RK900’s name just blurred into “Nines.” But that was never intended to actually leave his mouth. As much as he threw insulting nicknames at 900 left and right, it seemed inappropriate to give him an actual different name. Didn’t seem like his place to do so.
“Nines? That’s one you haven’t called me before.”
He spoke before his brain could tell on him. “Hey, if you wanna stick to ‘tin can’ and ‘plastic prick,’ be my guest.”
“No! No…Nines is fine. I’ll keep it, I think.”
--
THE PRESENT
Nines leaned back a little, a wistful look on his face. “It didn’t take me long, after that, to figure out what I wanted.”
“So, all of this,” Gavin gestured between them, “is my fault?”
“In a sense.”
Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry…I didn’t get anything for you, today. Yet. I’m dogshit at holidays and I didn’t even think about today also being-“
Nines stood, taking Gavin’s hands in his own. He smiled against their entwined knuckles. “You already gave me something. I enjoyed hearing about your memories. You’ve never shared that with me before.”
The shorter man glanced up, his eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion. “You sure you don’t want one of those blue heart boxes full of thirium candy?”
“I’m quite certain you just invented that.”
“Nah, they definitely sold that shit at the grocery store last weekend.”
“And you still forgot about me?”
Gavin scoffed. Nines smirked, leaning to press their foreheads together.
“Kidding. I prefer to be unadventurous with my internal plumbing.”
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, Gavin’s lips brushing faintly against Nines’. The android could feel his breath – slightly quivering - and his lips turning into a smirk.
“I shoulda known you were gonna be like this today.”
“Oh?”
“A fuckin’ sap.”
“ Oh .”
Gavin pulled away enough to meet his gaze, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Guess I should pay more attention to the calendar, huh? Ah, wait, excuse me… our calendar .”
Nines grinned, staring down at their interlocked fingers. “What can I say? Our lives are irrevocably linked.”
-fin-