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phcking-detective · 4 years

Text

Baby I Can See Heaven in Your Eyes

Rating: E

Tags: dirty talk / voice kink, heavy petting, dry humping, delayed / denied orgasm, hair pulling, light pet play (Nines is called kitten and told to "sit"), oral fixation, crying, kissing and cuddling as (brief) aftercare before the scene continues, sexual possessiveness, fingering, sub space

TW: sexual roleplay that Gavin is Nines’s “owner” and Nines is his “companion model,” like an at-home Traci; no kink negotiation beforehand, but Gavin checks in with Nines frequently for explicit consent; Nines has a vagina (no gender play)

***

Nines cannot wait for his human to return home, so that he can test his most recent experiment. Thus far, he has tested a phallus, a vaginal component, two dildos, and a vibrator.

He is looking forward to also gathering data on Gavin's dick.

"Hello, detective," he greets the moment of the human's arrival.

Thing One and Thing Two greet him as well, One by rubbing against his legs and purring, and Two by screaming for attention. They have both been fed, and Nines plans on giving them their favorite electronic mouse to hunt as a distraction so he can have the human to himself for the evening.

"Hey, baby," Gavin says. He kneels down and pets both cats. "Hello beasties. Yes, hello. Are you lying? Have you been fed?"

"Yes, they have," Nines answers for them. "Please ignore their wails of alleged hunger."

"Dirty rotten liars," Gavin calls them affectionately.

Nines remotely deploys the mouse with a swirl of his LED. It is big enough to contain a small amount of wet food inside, and the "beasties" quickly chase it into the kitchen.

Gavin stands up with a snort. "Oh, did you want attention too? What've you been doing today?"

"Yes," Nines says shamelessly. "I spent the afternoon thoroughly masturbating myself. How was work?"

Gavin tries to hang his jacket on a coat hook that does not exist and drops it on the floor. "You—what?"

"I spent the afternoon thoroughly masturbating myself. How was work?" Nines asks.

"Not as fun as that," Gavin mutters as he picks up the jacket and tries again. "Did you … uh. Have fun?"

"Yes. I should really thank Connor," Nines says.

Gavin pulls a face. "You fucked Connor? In my—shit, OK. Well. Our apartment? Not on my bed though, right? That's still mine."

Nines rolls his eyes in return. "No, Gavin. I did not fuck Connor. He simply informed me that sex is not merely for reproduction and that it is not hyperbole when humans say they want to fuck someone."

Gavin stares at him. Nines understands. This is all very new information that seemed dubious to him as well.

"Apparently, humans really are out there 'fucking' one another," Nines explains.

"… yeah," Gavin says.

Nines analyzes him, noting his elevated heart rate. "Did you know about this, detective?"

"I—don't scan me!" Gavin snaps. "My sex life is none of your business."

"Oh." Nines feels his LED circle yellow-yellow-red. "But you are sexually attracted me, and Connor said that is not merely an annoying physical response on par with hiccups. Do you not want to have sex with me?"

"On par with …" Gavin stops and rubs his hands across his face. "Phck. We're really going to talk about this, huh? We're just gonna have a whole goddamn conversation about it."

"Yes," Nines says. "Detective."

Gavin puts his hands down to glare at him. "OK, just because I got drunk one time—"

"You get drunk fre—"

"AHT!" Gavin cuts him off with the no-noise he uses on the cats. "One time and ordered a companion android, who—"

"You did not," Nines reminds him. "You googled 'tall smexy anboid' 'want hot robo friemd' and 'am robots gay question-mark question-mark question-mark' before passing out."

"I hate you."

"You think I'm pretty."

"AUGH!"

Gavin stalks into the living room and throws himself onto the couch. Nines does not understand why his human insists on making everything so emotional and difficult and emotionally difficult.

He clearly desires android sexual companionship, given his drunken attempt to order a companion model — [confirmed].

He is sexually attracted to Nines, given that he mistook the RK900's first appearance at his apartment the next morning (entirely coincidental; Captain Fowler assigned them as partners) to be the companion model he attempted to order — [confirmed].

He did not reject the "companion model," despite all commentary from other humans (Cyberlife employees; DPD employees) indicating Nines is [creepy], [inhuman], [terrifying], et cetera, et cetera. Gavin instead labeled him a [big pretty bitch] and [all my phcking wet dreams come true, goddamn].

"You think I'm pretty," Nines repeats.

Gavin finally lifts his head out of his hands. "Yes. You're the prettiest fucking sass bot ever produced."

[confirmed]

"You find me sexually attractive as well, and it is true that humans actually act on those physical desires, yes?" Nines asks.

Gavin sighs and lets his head drop against the back of the couch. "Yeah."

"I have installed a vaginal component, and I—"

"Oh my god," Gavin whispers at the ceiling.

"—have confirmed I enjoy penetrative stimulation," Nines continues. "You are in possession of a phallus, correct?"

Gavin looks up at him. "OK, so you're bored of dildos and you want to try out my dick?"

"Is anyone other than your hand making use of it?" Nines replies.

"Phck off."

"Gladly."

Nines takes a seat on Gavin's lap. This is his [favorite] spot. Now he knows why it flusters the human so much, and also possibly why he enjoys it so much. Could he have been experiencing [sexual arousal] even without a genital component? Interesting.

"Baby," Gavin groans.

Nines relocates the human's hands to his thighs. Gavin obligingly begins rubbing them, almost reaching up high enough to cup his ass. He has sat in this spot before, firstly to mimic the cats, because they seemed to enjoy sitting on Gavin's lap and being petted. Then for [cuddling] and telling each other about their day.

Of course he had noted Gavin's reaction to this; he simply did not categorize it as relevant. The human's stomach also sometimes growled while around the cats, but that bodily reaction did not mean Gavin literally wanted to or would ever eat either one of them. Human bodies sometimes just do things.

But now Nines can recognize he is the [cause] of this particular reaction.

(And also note his new genital component's reaction to his human rubbing his thighs and calling him baby in that tone of voice.)

"Detective," Nines says in return.

Gavin huffs out a growl. "Dammit, Nines. You should—you can … go get another human. Or android, I guess. Just. Someone else."

Nines pulls back enough to ensure he can fully scan the human. Arousal — [confirmed]. No detection of [fear]. Gavin wants this and presumably is not coerced or intoxicated.

But admittedly, Nines did not have a social module pre-installed. He has learned from experience, observing humans in his new profession as a librarian, and … mimicking Gavin's cats.

(Not that he's told that last fact to Connor.)

"Clarify," Nines demands. "Do you not want this?"

Gavin, much like his cats when told to get off the counter, looks away and pretends not to hear him.

"Am I sexually assaulting you?" Nines asks.

"Wha—" Gavin finally gives him a reaction. "No! Fuck, god."

"I am requesting that you fuck me."

Gavin gives him a slow look up and down. "Closest I'm gonna get to heaven, huh?"

Nines preens under his gaze. Question answered, now reassured that his actions are not harming the human, he deploys another helpful tactic he has learned from Thing One and Thing Two.

He repeatedly butts his face into Gavin's to request attention.

"Kiss me."

"Nines, I—"

"Kiss me. Kiss me."

Gavin grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks him into a kiss. Nines ignores the notifications of a mission successfully completed as they scroll across his HUD in order to focus on the experience.

For how roughly Gavin maneuvered him into it, the [kiss] is surprisingly gentle. His lips press insistently against Nines's, drawing back slightly and then pressing again, but it is nothing like the people on TV who seem to be eating each other's faces.

It is … very nice. Warm. The human's lips aren't quite soft, due to chapping from the cold Detroit weather, but the texture is so [interesting]. And the contrast between lips and stubble and the slight pull of the hand still gripping his hair makes his internal cooling fans kick in to abate the sudden rise in temperature.

Then, just as Nines lets his guard down, Gavin bites his lip.

It does not [hurt] or cause any damage of course, but Nines still opens his mouth to ask why—and the human uses that split second to delve his tongue inside.

Analysis explodes across the android's HUD. Gavin's DNA, the hormones present in his saliva, traces of coffee. (And when was the last time he had a meal? Nines should be detecting actual food as well [reminder: my human has not yet consumed his daily caloric intake])

Gavin pulls back and separates their mouths. Unacceptable. Nines pushes forward and puts his own tongue inside the human's mouth to continue his analysis.

For some reason, Gavin pushes him away.

"No tongue until you learn how to kiss," he's told.

Nines does not pout. He presents a perfectly reasonable argument. "I was analyzing you."

"Yeah, that's why I made the rule," Gavin replies. "There's a difference between kissing and analyzing. Also, I need to breathe."

Well. The second fact does hold some merit …

"We can still make out." Gavin shifts his hand from Nines's hair to cup his face. "Just let me lead, all right baby?"

Nines nods and obediently holds still until Gavin guides his face back down. The kiss starts slow again, and the next nip at his bottom lip only tugs on it slightly before Gavin lets go and kisses him again. Nines tries to follow the pattern of when to press forward and when to tilt his—

Gavin's hands slide over the tops of his thighs and then inside them, thumbs pressed close to his groin. Nines barely has time to process this change (he is still being [kissed]) before the detective uses his grip to pull his thighs wider over his lap.

"You wanna show me what I'm working with?" Gavin asks him, his voice low and rough and … very unfair.

Nines leans forward into the human's arms, dropping his head down to rest on his shoulder. He needs less stimulus to process all of this. He restricts his audio input to ignore any sounds outside of the apartment. The mouse program gets abandoned, so the cats will likely be able to bat it out from under the fridge soon. All he needs is Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.

"Touch me," he asks.

The thumb slowly drawing circles on the inside of his left thigh lifts up to stroke over his pubic plate, currently equipped with a vaginal component. It only takes a gentle press to push the fabric of his yoga pants into the slick mess Gavin has made of him.

"Your cunt all wet for me, baby?"

The profanity shivers through him, and Nines nods against his neck. That answer apparently was not [adequate] though, because Gavin takes his thumb nearly away, resting so lightly atop the fabric Nines can only feel his human body heat.

"Need an answer, Nines."

Nines works his mouth silently for a few seconds before remembering to activate his vocal unit. "Yes, Detective."

Gavin hums and it's almost a groan. Nines presses closer and licks his neck. That is not [kissing]. This analysis of his sweat and skin should not be forbidden.

"I'm going to touch you," Gavin tells him.

Nines lifts his head to exhale a cloud of steam. It does very little to lower his rising core temperature, not when Gavin's thumb swipes up to pet across the crotch of his yoga pants until he finds his clit, grown swollen and plump. He chose a larger model, and he had very reasonable—

"Gaaav …"

—reasons. Reasonable … reasons. Yes. Many of them. Aesthetics and—and—more sensors to—

"Oh, baby," Gavin murmurs in that voice. "You need it, kitten? Look at you, you're trembling, and I'm barely even touching you."

That is an unfair assessment. Nines tries to formulate the argument but blows out steam again instead. Gavin has his voice, and the way he spread Nines's thighs so wide, he can clearly see the growing damp patch he's making.

The way that also leaves Nines's [cunt] spread wide, lips separated and hole clenching around nothing.

It feels … [filthy]

[embarrassing]

[exciting]

"So good for me." Gavin pulls Nines's face out of the crook of his neck by his hair. "Let me see you."

Nines goes with the motion. The human has a firm grip on his hair, right at the root, so the tugging doesn't actually [hurt], although the complete lack of resistance likely helps.

But he can hardly see his detective past all the error notifications crowding up his HUD.

Gavin apparently likes what he sees. "Beautiful. My pretty baby."

He doesn't stop circling his thumb around Nines's clit as he says it, and Nines whimpers. He tries to push his hips forward to get more pressure, more touching, more of anything, but Gavin takes his hand away entirely to still his hips.

"Please," Nines gasps.

Gavin gives him a stern look. "Behave."

Nines shudders all over, a full body malfunction. His core temperature has risen almost to dangerous levels. Gavin tugs his head back, forcing his chin up. Nines doesn't understand why (is he no longer allowed to view his human?) until a prompt flashes in red to exhale.

He releases a burst of steam that would have been too hot for human comfort, but Gavin has already preconstructed that. He is allowed to lower his head again once he's completed a few breathing cycles. His temperature and stress levels begin a slow descent as he settles into the knowledge that Detective Reed will take care of him.

"Please, Detective." Nines blinks several times to clear all the notifications. "I will be good."

He saves several still images of the way Gavin looks as he considers: his eyes more black than grey-green, the slight flush across his cheeks, the obvious press of his erection inside his jeans, yet he still remains in control.

(Of them both.)

Gavin lifts up the hand on his hip and offers Nines his thumb. Nines gratefully lets his mouth fall open, thumb gently pressing inside to rest heavily on top of his tongue. His eyes drift shut to focus solely on the analysis he receives.

All too soon, the thumb is withdrawn, but he doesn't have time to protest before it's pressing back into his clit again, even wetter than before, the damp fabric hardly even a barrier at all.

And then does not move.

"What do you say," Gavin asks lowly.

"Th—" Nines gasps. "Thank you, De—Detect—ohhh."

Gavin's own legs underneath him prevent him from closing his thighs around the hand between his legs, and the hand in his hair holds his head hostage so that he cannot look away. He doesn't know what to do with his hands until he realizes that at some point, he put them behind his back, an old program partially activated to stand at parade rest.

This is much better.

"You like this baby?"

Nines tries to nod against the hand in his hair and forces his LED to flash blue along the yellow and red.

"Good boy," Gavin praises. "Just gonna check when your light's been red for a while, all right?"

Nines doesn't answer this time. He just sinks down into it, the obedience of holding perfectly still, the care Gavin shows him, letting someone else have control for once. He enjoyed the way masturbation made his awareness of physical sensation temporarily overtake his thoughts, but he did not expect … this.

Except just when he feels his orgasm approaching, Gavin takes his hand away. He must make some sort of distressed noise, because his detective immediately reassures him.

"Shhh, shhh, I've still got you. You're good, so good for me, baby."

Gavin rearranges their legs as he speaks, holding both hands on Nines's sides to help support and balance him with his hands still gripping his wrists behind his back. The relocation stops with their legs staggered, Nines kneeling with one of Gavin's legs between both of his own instead of straddling his whole lap.

"You wanted to sit in my lap, didn't you kitten?" Gavin says. It is not a question. "So sit."

Nines doesn't understand, but he lowers himself back down anyway to [sit] on top of—

Oh.

Both of Gavin's hands go to his hips this time, showing him how to grind down on the thigh between his legs. The pleasure is not as [focused] as being petted with his thumb, but he finally gets pressure against his entrance as well.

"C'mere."

Nines doesn't realize he's broken posture to slump forward until Gavin pulls him in all the way, carefully nestling him to rest against his chest—although the android does still have to bend slightly to put their heads on an even level due to the height difference.

"Is this what you wanted?" Gavin turns his head to speak softly in his ear. "All those times you crawled in my lap, sat here like this, knowing how goddamn hard you get me?"

Nines whimpers and takes it, almost like a punishment, but so [good]. He only moves his hips as Gavin's hands direct them, as his leg pushes up and his hands pull him down.

"I shouldn't even be this nice to you." Gavin lets out a sigh. "But fuck it, you're cute. Go ahead and take a freebie, baby."

Nines tries to make his next whine sound a bit more questioning, to indicate he doesn't understand the meaning of that either. Luckily, Gavin pays attention. He always pays attention to Nines, in a [good] way, not afraid or gossiping about him behind his back.

"I'm going to let you come this time," he explains.

Gavin drops a kiss against his temple as Nines fixates on the very specific phrasing [this time]. Now he's the one a little scared, but not bad, not bad, it's too [good] to be [bad].

"Wh-when?" Nines manages to ask.

Gavin laughs, deep and almost mean. The not-fear shivers through him again.

He does not receive an answer.

***

Gavin knows he's a bad man. He's a very, very bad man, but goddamn if the universe hasn't rewarded him for it.

"That's it," he tells the gorgeous android rubbing off in his lap. "Next time I won't even have to show you how. Leave my hands free so I can have a smoke."

A cigarette is damn near the only thing that could make this any better. If this isn't a one-time curiosity experiment for Nines, he'll really have to try that the next time.

But for now, he focuses on the present, the absolute goddamn gift Nines is.

"Been waiting for this all day, haven't you?"

He doesn't give Nines time to answer. His thigh flexes underneath the slick cunt desperately grinding into it, and his android whimpers out static.

"How many times have you come already?" he asks.

"S-s-seven," Nines answers through a glitch.

Well. Gavin has to at least work him up to his own number, doesn't he?

"And no refractory period. Goddamn." Gavin sighs in mild envy while petting through his hair. "I could keep you here, just like this, all evening long. Keep you coming and begging for hours."

Nines lets out a grinding noise that might be the android equivalent of a sob. His hips finally lose their rhythm under Gavin's hand, just chasing his own pleasure now. He really shouldn't allow that so easily, but then again, Nines is a virgin who's never done kink before. Or anything else, actually.

So Gavin lets him have it.

But since he's a bad man, not an altruistic one, he pulls Nines's head back by his hair to see his pretty face, eyes wide and unfocused, lips slightly parted. There's a soft blue blush across his cheek's he's never seen before, and his LED practically strobes in his temple.

"Good boy, gonna make you come every time you sit this pretty little pussy in my lap."

Nines squeezes his eyes shut and whines. That's all right. He's too fucked out to make eye contact anyway, but one thing that isn't allowed …

Gavin presses his thumb inside the android's lips, pushing down on his tongue until his mouth drops open. He rubs the pad of it back and forth against the soft muscle for a moment, then down to smear the wet faux-saliva across his bottom lip.

"Keep your mouth open," he orders. "You're only allowed to come if you open that pretty mouth for me."

Nines gives a jerky nod, and Gavin sits back to enjoy the show. He pets his free hand across the android's chest and sides, feeling him up through the thin t-shirt as he rides his leg like he downloaded a Traci program to do it.

Eventually, the android starts spinning more red than yellow, hot air pushed out of his mouth with nearly even exhale, and he pushes his tongue out farther over his lips to show that his mouth is open.

And ohhh, Gavin is so bad. He rubs his thumb over that soft, pink tongue until it's nice and wet, then reaches up underneath his shirt to rub circles around one hard nipple.

Nines starts letting out shuddering sobs that Gavin lets wash over him, feeling them go straight to his dick like the android is being a good little companion and licking up his shaft. Next time, next time …

Finally, he scrounges around deep down in his soul to find some mercy.

"Come on my leg, baby."

He barely gets to "my" before Nines obeys, face dropping slack and LED pulsing a steady Yellow. Red. Yellow. Gavin gets to watch as his tongue gives the tiniest little flexes, like he's sucking cock in a dream.

If he were nice, he'd press his thumb back inside and help his orgasm along by giving Nines something to suck on.

Instead, he waits it out. Good training requires the sub to be just as desperate for it as you are, and he's going to let Nines work his way through a few orgasms with his mouth open and searching, so that when he finally presses the head of his cock into those sweet pretty lips, his android won't feel anything but gratitude.

When Nines finally slumps forward and begins crying against his neck, Gavin lets go of his hair and rubs both hands up and down his back.

"Shhh, hey, I got you," he says softly. "You were good, so good, baby. It's OK, just let it all out."

Nines sniffles, then begins studiously licking up his tears. Gavin would be a little concerned about his sub getting too deep into the headspace for their first time, except Nines licking his face, neck, and any other body part he can reach is pretty typical.

"Did that feel good?"

That gets a slow sigh of air that's just warm, not scalding hot. Gavin rubs a hand up the android's chest next, and Nines starts up a rumbling purr. Blue light spins in the corner of his eye. So he'll take all that as a yes.

"You want kisses?" he asks next.

Nines immediately butts his face against Gavin's cheek. He shouldn't have let the asshole learn how to be social from his fucking cats.

"All right, all right," he grumbles.

Gavin scoops up the lanky android in his arms as much as he can and turns them to the side so they can lay down on the couch, with himself on top of course. Nines lounges back against the cushions, black hair fanning out around his head like a dark halo. He reaches for Gavin and tugs on his shirt when he spends too long admiring the view.

Since he's already so spoiled anyway … Gavin obliges him with kisses. Nines hums and purrs throughout it, LED now a gentle baby blue.

"Did you like that?" Gavin asks quietly between the two of them.

He should have started this scene with that—some rules and a safeword at least—but he'll try to make up for it now with the aftercare.

Nines nods shyly, presenting his face for more kisses. Gavin gives them to him, but he keeps each one light and short to help them both wind down. They need to talk about if this will be an ongoing arrangement, and if Nines just wants to sub or if he wants to really dig deep and roleplay as Gavin's personal companion android.

Gavin tries to open up that conversation. "What do you want now, baby?"

Nines slowly opens his eyes and blinks up at him. His LED turns a slow, lazy yellow for a moment while he glances down.

Then he looks back up and clearly says, "Dick."

Gavin reflexively looks down at his own crotch—which is apparently where Nines was looking, not just demurely averting his gaze, the thirsty little bitch. He meets Nines's eyes again and sees the android watching him expectantly, like a pillow princess waiting to be serviced.

"Don't know how anyone mistook you for a detective," Gavin tells him. "When you're obviously such a slut."

Nines blushes and closes his eyes, but he doesn't bother to hide his preening smirk.

"But you're gonna have to earn that, baby," Gavin continues.

Nines opens his eyes to shoot him the wounded look he learned from their little beasties when being removed from the bed so Gavin can get some goddamn sleep without an eight pound cat laying on his face.

"I can be good," he promises. He glances down between them again. "I do not have a refractory period."

And then he looks up at Gavin from underneath his lashes with those big blue eyes, and all thoughts of kink negotiation and safe words take a running leap and crash through the window.

"I'm going to take off your pants and play with that pretty pussy of yours until you start crying again."

Nines nods eagerly. He even lifts his hips like a good boy to help Gavin peel the yoga pants off him, a sticky strand of lubrication stringing between his lips and the crotch for a moment before the thread breaks. That gets the android blushing and whirring again, but Gavin just chuckles.

He lifts the t-shirt too, but instead of taking it off, he tucks it behind Nines's neck. It's a pitiful restraint, especially against an RK model, but Nines obligingly tucks his arms back behind his back, then waits obediently for Gavin to begin.

And this had better be a long-term thing, because Gavin doesn't think he can ever let anyone touch his android after this. Not with how Nines is looking at him, so open and sincere, without a single doubt that whatever happens next will be good and safe.

He might be a bad man, but shit. At least he knows that. And he also knows how many losers and assholes are out there, sociopaths and abusers and people who are honestly just too dumb and selfish to notice when they hurt someone.

No, his Nines is never going to experience any of that.

"Did you think about me when you touched yourself?" Gavin asks.

He runs his hands up the insides of Nines's legs while he asks the question. That's unfair enough, but rubbing his thumbs right at the creases in his thighs as Nines tries to answer borders on mean.

"I—I, yes. Did." Nines stutters.

Gavin skirts his hands up higher, just barely resting on the outsides of his flushed lips. His clit is big enough to push out past them, a teasing little peek-a-boo that makes Gavin's mouth water. It looks just as fat and swollen with arousal as it had felt when he'd petted over it through the pants.

"Do you like having something in your cunt, baby?"

He gets even meaner when he punctuates this question by using his thumbs to gently pull his lips apart and watch the way his exposed hole clenches and flutters. Nines manages to make his moan sound something like please.

"You have to tell me if you want it," Gavin says sternly. "I'm not just gonna guess about something like that."

Nines frantically nods, his mouth working silently around gasps. He's so worked over just having his legs spread and his pussy put on display. Gavin decides to have mercy—mostly on himself.

"Shhh, OK. I'm going to play with you now."

He circles his thumb around the android's clit gently at first, just watching what kind of reaction partial stimulation to it gets him. Nines shudders out an exhale and his thighs tense.

"That's right, you need to keep your hips still," Gavin tells him.

Nines nods again, blindly, his eyes shut and mouth agape.

"Do you want it like this?"

Gavin slides his other hand up Nines's side, over his chest, to rest lightly on top of his throat. Nines slowly opens his eyes, LED sluggishly spinning yellow. Gavin times the slow circles around his clit to it.

"With rules and taking orders," Gavin explains. "Where you need to obey and behave."

"Yes," Nines breathes out.

He doesn't take that as his real answer right away. "Or do you want it more casual?"

Nines blinks hard, twice, and cocks his head.

"Where I tell you what to do, since I've got more experience. But," He lets go of the android's throat. "You can do what you want. You don't have to hold still or—"

Nines shakes his head no for the first time. "I … I want … to be … good."

"As a good boy, or my own personal companion android,"

Gavin strokes his thumb directly down the length of Nines's swollen clit for the first time.

"That I can pet,"

He keeps his thumb where it is and shifts his fingers to tease the tip of his index against the entrance clenching at it.

"And play with,"

"Yes, yes, please," Nines chants.

Gavin presses the finger inside and it goes so easy. Enough for him to believe Nines really has spent the entire afternoon doing nothing but fucking himself in Gavin's own bed.

"And fuck,"

He adds a second finger without any resistance and gets those tears he promised. He really can't stop a grin from spreading across his face at that, just as sharp and vicious as any of the RK's interrogation protocols.

"Whenever, and however …" He pulls his hand out entirely, leaving Nines gasping and wrenching his eyes back open to stare up at him in pleading confusion. "I want."

Nines sniffles and starts to shift his hips to seek out any stimulation he can. Gavin stills them with both hands, and tries to keep his voice soft and free of judgment for the next part.

"Do you still want to behave?" he asks.

He watches as Nines realizes what that really means. What he would be promising Gavin—just for this scene. They really do still need to have an actual talk before he'll accept anything as a permanent, serious answer, but he can't resist at least throwing this option out there for now.

Nines tilts his head back to release steam, but then he settles back down. His whole body eases in a way Gavin has never seen before actually—even though he rejected his programming in terms of working for either Cyberlife or the DPD, it always still shone through in his perfect posture and too-formal speech.

This is the first time he's ever seen the android look … relaxed.

Gavin waits, but he doesn't even attempt to hide the way he sweeps his gaze over Nines's body, appreciating the thick chest, pecs well-defined enough to almost give him a bust, nipples hard and begging for attention, and his legs still spread wide, showing off a perfectly manicured triangle of soft black curls right over where his cunt drools onto the couch.

He drags his eyes back up to meet Nines's soft look, utterly relaxed and blinking slowly. He already knows what the answer will be just from that, but he still waits for it.

"Yes, Detective."

***

this was commissioned by @gavinisqueertbh and you can find my commission info pinned to the top of my blog! subscribers to my patreon get early access to all my commissioned fics two weeks before they’re posted here and on AO3 for free ^^

#reed900 #gavin reed #dbh #dbh fic #detroit: become human #my writing

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definietlynotsatan · 4 years

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Gavin, a gen z - On a scale from ‘damn Daniel’ to ‘fre sha vaca do’ , how are you feeling?

Hank, a Millienial - In between, ‘its an avocado, thanks’ and ‘how did you take down Captain America.’ But as a solid answer? I would have to say ‘I don’t need a degree to be a coat hanger.’ What about you Gavin?

Gavin - Probably ‘Road work ahead’.

Connor - I know many languages and this is not one of them.

#gavin reed #vines #vine quotes #hank #hank anderson #detroit become human

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mechabones · 5 years

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*Gavin & the RK brothers watching the Titanic*

Gavin, probably sobbing: There was enough room for them both!

Connor: Well, statistically, it wouldn’t hold the weight of them both, each time he tried to get on the wood, it tipped her into the water. He didn’t want her to fre-

Gavin: That’s not the point!

Nines: I’d let you drown to save myself.

Sixty: I wish I was the iceberg.

#sixty wants everyone to die #dbh #detroit become human #gavin reed #dbh gavin reed #reed900 #dbh nines #dbh sixty #dbh connor #rk900 #rk800

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rosercabre · 4 years

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Març

Dimarts 31

Dia 18. Fa un any feia sopa perquè la fina línia entre fer-la o no fer-la és el suïcidi. Penso amb les suïcides, aquests dies, i ho faig amb una alegria fonda, de saber que encara hi són, que encara hi puc parlar, que no les he empès a saltar. Els dic: avui fa fred i plou i en Jose ha fet caldo. Hi ha posat naps enlloc de porros però us he pensat igual. Els dic també: espereu-me, que un dia tornaré i potser serà l’últim que ho faré.

Dilluns 30

Dia 17. M’he tallat les ungles dels peus. No me les tallava des d’abans de parir. Ho va fer una xina, jo no m’hi arribava. Duia la boca tapada, higiène o visionària, però els ulls li reien quan m’assenyalava la panxa. Feliz año, em deia i jo m’ho creia. Vull dir: potser ho ha sigut una mica, ja. Em ressegueixo la línia alba que es resisteix a marxar i penso en totes les panxes que creixen invisibles ara al meu voltant. Els vull dir que potser ho serà.

Diumenge 29

Dia 16. Tinc una llista on apunto tota la meva sort. La llegeixo abans d’anar a dormir. No sé si quan em llevi encara hi serà.

Dissabte 28

Dia 15. Primer penso: no pot ser una gavina. Després penso: pot ser una filla. No pot ser una gavina perquè han marxat. El seu campanar és buit i els únics esgarips són de nadó tip de pit i de nit. Ens llevem i marxem a Sant Antoni. Un mar de guix blau. És agost i l’aigua bull i això és el que vull. El fill també però plora perquè el guix s’esborra. Dic al fill que serà estiu, un dia, però ell ja ha oblidat perquè plorava. Jo no. El fill ho viu millor que jo. La filla ho dorm millor que jo. I això hauria de ser bastant. Però no sé si les gavines o aquests dies tornaran.

Divendres 27

Dia 14. Visc en un moment d’ahir que no vaig dir. El fill, mig ull obert després d’una migdiada llarga, dient, per primera vegada: jo t’estimo molt, mama. Reviure’l cada dia fins que això s’acabi. I quan dic això vull dir tot.

Dijous 26

Dia 13. He cantat a la dutxa i he pensat que avui podia anar bé. Ho he dit al fill, que em mirava divertit. La mama canta el gall quiquiriquí. He cantat fins que he escoltat la veu de la meva germana, arribant a casa després de fer el torn de nit, urgències a un hospital de Madrid. He cantat fins que he callat. Mireu: això és un infern i ho és malgrat tot el que no ho és. Què no ho és: tenir pulmons, tenir sostre i tenir, per dinar, llegums i peix.

Dimecres 25

Dia 12. Esmorzo pa amb formatge i nova quotidianitat. Farem veure que tot el que coneixem és això. Truman i Plató. Amb la ficció passo l’estona millor. Fins que alguna cosa fa crec i no me la crec. El crec pot ser: tres cotxes amb llums blaves a la porta de l’església barrada, una gavina afamada que vola massa baix, una boca tapada, bandera blanca entre galta i galta. La versemblança es desfà i el cel és de cendra i les sirenes sonen quan escric a l’amiga: ‘m’ho havia cregut una mica’. Plou i l’angoixa em comença, gruixuda i puntual com cada dia. Passaré les últimes hores del dia amb l’estómac encongit. Beuré tila i escriuré això des del llit, la filla al pit. No és ficció el que escric: és por.

Dimarts 24

Dia 11. Et diré què em passa: em passa que no sé entendre la fressa del bus que passa per sota casa. Vull dir: no en baixa la mare, tampoc el pare. No en baixa ningú i un autobús buit no pertany a la vida que jo sé entendre. Potser pelo patates quan el sento passar i penso fins quan anirà buit i és aquest coi de pregunta, que no va. Abans no preguntava fins quan anirà ple. Abans potser pelava patates i no el sentia passar. Més tard, l’amic em diu que haig de pensar en això d’ara com la nova quotidianitat. Ho provo i ressona el motor al carrer. Suposo que el dia que no el senti serà el dia que ho aconseguiré.

Dilluns 23

Dia 10. No anem enlloc. Plou i bullim ous per distreure en Boi que ja no pregunta pel carrer. Que ja parla d’un futur que jo encara no sé. Un dia, diu, farem o anirem o sortirem. És bonic veure’l créixer cada moment d’aquests dies. Bonic i desgastant. Ell creix i jo envelleixo. Em cauen els cabells pel passadís que camino per adormir la Neret. Em cauen els cabells perquè virus i hormones. Aquest és el postpart que no hagués triat mai. Hi va haver dues setmanes boniques. Em preocupava la meva bufeta o els plecs de la pell de la panxa encara inflada. Ara ric d’aquells dies perquè de seguida van venir les llàgrimes. El febrer va ser una pilota de carn mal mastegada entre els queixals i la galta. Em costa d’empassar que hagi de ser així, el primer cop de la Neret al món i li demano perdóperdóperdóperdó fins que la paraula perd el sentit. O potser és el món, el que el perd. No ho sé i si el busco, me’n vaig. La mama no sent, diu en Boi quan soc lluny, quieta al seu costat. La mama sí que sent, tinc ganes de dir. La mama sent massa.

Diumenge 22

Dia 9. M’he llevat i he plorat i no me n’he amagat. Falten metres quadrats per negar el malestar. És diumenge, he dit i no he estimat mai el diumenge. Tampoc l’agost que ara invoco des del terrat, els peus a la piscina buida. De fons, sento el tren que mai no sentia quan hi havia vida. També: riallades diabòliques i un home que crida que no me toques. Que no me toques repeteix com si li anés la vida, i no és al virus, és a la policia, que l’hi diu. Passa un helicòpter d’urgències i ja no li diem adéu.

Dissabte 21

Dia 8. Fa sol i tenim sort. Vull dir: el privilegi de córrer perquè ve el llop, de no haver de pescar engrunes i regalar-les a les formigues, d’enfilar-nos a una escala i veure altra canalla. Se’n va el sol i tenim por. Vull dir: sabem que som els porquets, les formigues són lliures i la canalla creix confinada.

Divendres 20

Dia 7. No em costa escriure que tinc por. Vull ser refugi dels meus fills i enyoro ser al refugi dels meus pares. Visc un món que voldria haver escrit i prou.

Dijous 19

Dia 6. Les hores més fàcils: la primera, quan l’assecador l’adorm. La segona, quan xerrameca sol. La tercera, el migdia de son. La quarta, quan s’encén la pantalla amb la seva cara. La cinquena, les vuit del vespre, quan tot fa baixada i, per una estona, ignoro la pujada.

Dimecres 18

Dia 5. Les hores més difícils: la primera, quan obro un ull. La segona, quan sé que tornarà a ploure. La tercera, quan diu que aviat no quedaran pomes. La quarta, quan sap que l’avi no vindrà a jugar. La cinquena, quan ella em somriu i jo només puc plorar.

Dimarts 17

Dia 4. Em dic: sort del dia que plorava quan creuava la Meridiana. Aquest pis sap ser refugi dels confinats. Eren natilles i westerns un dia. Són Petit Suisse i Peppa Pig avui. El cul a l’aire sempre.

Dilluns 16

Dia 3. Surto al carrer sense mascareta. Camino cap al nord per l’avinguda desolada. Les persianes de les botigues estan abaixades. Només unes poques estan obertes: ensenyen mandarines tristes i pa congelat. Hi ha vells i no hi ha nens. Hi ha gossos i no hi ha nens. Passen trens i no passen nens. La policia renya la gent que deambula sense bosses plenes de mandarines toves ni pa ressec. Compañero, vaya a casa, haga el favor. Hi ha gent que no té casa o no la vol. Jo la tinc i la vull i els peus s’afanyen a ser-hi. Caminaria més ràpid però tinc el fre als pulmons i no és cap virus, potser, que només és por. No sé si és millor una cosa de l’altra. No m’agrada tenir res. No m’agrada tenir pressa per uns dies que no passen. No m’agrada tenir la certesa que he enganyat a la meva filla que em respira al pit, adormida. Aviat farà un any que va començar a ser i res era com és ara. Si ho hagués sapigut, penso coses que no vull pensar. Quan entro a casa no sé quan en tornaré a sortir.

Diumenge 15

Dia 2. Se’m xarboten les coses. Tinc, i ho tinc tot a l’hora: gomets als pulmons i bombers que reguen orinals i catorze dies a les costelles que respiren i que t’agradi la silicona, nena i controls policials als carrers de les orelles i cap notícia de la fe i verdura aixafada amb els queixals i pantalles als ulls d’una ferida adolorida i que t’agradi el làtex, doncs i records de les pomes en les maduixes mossegades i anticipacions de la joia d’un setembre i una germana que riu darrere la màscara i mugrons, sobretot, tinc mugrons que, de tot això, en fan llet.

Dissabte 14

Dia 1 del confinament. Recordo, Montbau o Sant Pau, quan comptava els dies perquè fos avui. Amb un dia d’abril ja no hi crec. La fe me la vaig deixar dins un autobús del passeig Valldaura.

Divendres 13

Veig venir el que vindrà des d’un futur immediat que miro com qui mira una pantalla que es pot apagar. On és el mando, demano i ressono.

Dijous 12

Dos mesos i les ganes inflades tota l’estona de demanar-te perdó, filla, perdona’m.

Dimecres 11

I encara una altra i quan dic encara vull dir sempre, sembla

Dimarts 10

Divendres 6 una altra vegada.

Dilluns 9

Tinc: més llocs on no viuré que llocs que he viscut. Plaça Llibertat, Carrer d’en Grassot, carrer Còrcega, Passatge Calders, Sòcrates amb Neopàtria. Soc: el negatiu d’un mapa.

Diumenge 8

He anat a tot arreu.

Dissabte 7

Mira’m, soc trenta quilos de carn que s’enfila al pi de les tres branques als peus de la carretera de les aigües. A la butxaca hi duc un llapis mossegat i el tros de peix arrebossat que no m’he pogut acabar a l’hora de dinar. Si no el llenço, la classe, aquesta tarda, s’omplirà de pudor i la senyoreta Patro voldrà saber d’on ve i a mi la senyoreta Patro em fa por. Tiro el peix al mar, allà baix, passada la ciutat que encara visc sense saber-la tota. No sé, per exemple, que cap al nord un dia hi haurà unes vies foradades i un centre comercial i, entremig, una altra escola que no és la meva però qui sap si un dia una mica ho serà.

Divendres 6

Mai no havia viscut tants dies iguals en un present que ja no se sap acabar. Fa dies creia en un futur que no arribava i que quan ho farà, és present. Sempre i encara.

Dijous 5

La sort és que no vaig abandonar-me a la mandra del fred als mugrons. I també: que ella sap esperar. I també: que ell la comença a estimar. I esclar: que ho sé recordar.

Dimecres 4

Fa un sol despert que no em mereixo quan trepitjo els carrers que el meu fill no. No tinguis fills, dic a l’amiga embarassada i ella riu i jo no. Vull parir, diu. Pariràs, no pateixis, patiràs.

Dimarts 3

Vull: plegar de tocar un front calent. Plegar de saber que tornar a Montbau és una possibilitat. Plegar d’acostumar-me a no témer una ferida. Plegar d’oblidar com era la normalitat.

Dilluns 2

Un home que coneix el fill diu que prefereix la porta tancada, la paret fent frontera, el ser-hi sense ulls. Més tard, un altre home que no coneix la filla diu que fa cara de ser bona. Se li veu ben bé, m’assegura. Els homes saben coses que les dones ja sabíem.

Diumenge 1

M’agafo a: l’amor de germà gran quan encara no hi ha sol. Serà bonic, un dia que encara ha de néixer.

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an-unlikely-duo · 5 years

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FRE SHA VACA DO

Gavin closed his eyes and sighed, he had seen this going around a few days now, it had only been a matter of time until it reached him. “Great, now I’m feeling old.” he muttered.

The LED of the Android spun yellow for a second before he responded “Come on down to del Taco.” a quick internet search revealed the meaning behind this butchered word. People find literally anything funny.

#meatbag || Gavin IC #toaster || Nines IC #New Phone; who dis? || Anonymous #curiosity killed the cat || answered ask

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detrcitmade · 5 years

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Chris: On a scale of "damn Daniel" and "fre sha voca do", how are you feeling?

Gavin: in between "it's an avocado, thanks" and "how did you defeat Captain America" but as a solid answer I would say "I don't need a degree to be a clothing hanger". How about you, Tina?

Tina: Probably "road work ahead."

Connor: *with a red LED* I speak many languages, but this is not one.

#incorrect quotes #dpd shenanigans

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paulineges984454-blog · 5 years

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deepdishfootbal · 2 years

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lasoalarm · 6 years

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i would make an entire paragraph about how much i love gavin free but i couldnt make anything coherent enough so take this: hnbhgnHHGNGHFNHGHBFHGNGHFHBHGHFH GRABIN FRE I LOV HIM

#sky speaks #gavin free #achievement hunter

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pepperonijem · 6 years

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All the vines. Especially Thomas Sanders though, and “how did you take down captain america?” “we shot him in the legs because his shield is the size of a dinner plate and he’s an idiot”. And idk why but “fre sh a voca do” amuses me so much. Ngl sometimes when I’m sad/upset/feeling blah, I’ll just watch vine compilations. What are your favorites? :)

Oh god I love this and I love those vines too 😭 dang, my faves probably include: “an avocado! Thanks :),” “WHY ARE YOU RUNNIN? WHY ARE YOU RUNNIN?” And of course “what up I’m jared I’m 19 and I never fuckin learned how to read” and the Gavin vines ofc 😩 I honestly watch vine compilations all the time it’s unhealthy. Thanks for the ask

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silly-happy-thoughts-blog · 4 years

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Gavin: from "damn daniel" to "fre sha voca do" how are you feeling?

Gavin's friend: maybe "hi! welcome to chillis" but also a little bit of "i don't need a degree to be a clothing hanger"

hank: connor can you please translate what the fuck they just said

Connor: i speak many languages but this is not one of them

#detroit become human rk800 #detroid become human #connor rk800 #robots

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inexcon · 5 years

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RSI Comm-Link: Brothers In Arms: Part Three

Writer’s Note: Brothers In Arms: Part Three was published originally in Jump Point 3.7. Read Part One here and Part Two here.

Rhedd Alert got hit two more times over the next several escort missions between Min and Nexus. The first was an overzealous solo pirate who had camped himself just outside the jump gate from Min. The memory of the Hornet attack was still fresh and had Gavin and the team on edge.

The hapless pirate attacked as soon as the first Rhedd Alert ship entered Nexus. There wasn’t a thruster on the market that could turn him fast enough once the gate spat out six angry Rhedd Alert fighters and their transport.

They recovered the unconscious pirate in hopes of a bounty. There wasn’t much left of his ship to salvage.

The next incident occurred inside the Tyrol system near the rendezvous at Haven. As they neared Tyrol V, the trio of ramshackle Hornets struck again. Walt was the first to see them coming.

“Gav, we’ve got incoming from behind the planet.”

Gavin’s team was a cluster of green icons on his HUD. Snuggled protectively within their perimeter was UEE Cassiopeia carrying a fresh batch of researchers. He zoomed the display out and saw a trio of red marks hurtling around the planet toward their position.

“Is that . . .?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“How the hell did they find us?”

Gavin silenced his team with a curt word and considered a headlong race to Tyrol V. Haven was a reasonably large settlement for an otherwise underdeveloped system. Tyrol V didn’t have any planetary defenses, though. The entire system was subject to the inevitable and imminent nova caused by its binary stars. Haven warranted both UEE and private investment in support of the unique research possibilities provided by the impending disaster. However, since the entire system was ultimately waiting to evaporate, there wasn’t much sense in dumping money into defense systems.

Gavin started crossing options off their list. Tyrol offered them no protection. If they fled the system, they could lead the Hornets on a merry chase, but prolonging the risk to Cassiopeia and its staff seemed a poor gamble.

On the other hand, their first head-to-head confrontation hadn’t gone so well. After seeing the marauders’ teamwork in Nexus, Gavin was reluctant to take another tilt at them. Plus, he could already imagine Walt’s reaction to willfully engaging them head on.

Perhaps something a bit more diplomatic than fight or flight would yield better results.

Gavin tripped his comm link to broadcast on all local frequencies. “Hornet privateers above Tyrol V, this is Rhedd Alert One with a team of fighters and UEE transport vessel. We are moving little of value other than civilian lives. Please reconsider your approach.”

“Huh,” Walt made what sounded like an appreciative sniff into his mic, “you think that’ll work?”

“Can’t hurt to try.”

Moments passed with no response and no change to the marauders’ course. “Well maybe something more ominous will get their attention.” Gavin triggered the open broadcast again. “Hornet brigands above Tyrol V, this is Rhedd Alert One with a team of fighters and UEE transport vessel. We have little of value other than our ammunition, which we will happily deliver directly to your ships if you do not reconsider your approach.”

“Well that’s definitely not going to work.” Walt said. Gavin saw his brother’s weapon systems go live.

Gavin left Boomer and Mei to guard Cassiopeia and Rhedd Alert engaged four-on-three with neither side holding the advantage of surprise. This time, Walt and Jazza were both on the front line. The ensuing dogfight was far less one-sided than their first encounter with the Hornets.

Rhedd Alert gave a good accounting of themselves. Contrary to their ramshackle appearance, the marauders’ ships were surprisingly quick, their weapon systems in good repair. Despite the ferocity of the fight, Rhedd Alert kept the marauders’ away from Cassiopeia. Walt seemed content to drive them off. Jazza gave chase.

“Let ’em go, Jazz,” Walt said.

“Like hell,” she said. “I’m gonna swat me a Hornet.”

“No, you’re not,” Walt snapped the order. “They’re going to turn around just long enough to pound you into a fine red mist, and we’re going to have to sweep up whatever parts are left.”

“Guys,” Gavin said, “cool it. Rendezvous at the transport.”

Jazza broke off pursuit and moved to rally with Boomer and Cassiopeia. “I just don’t like him giving me orders.”

“Hmmm,” Walt’s temper was clearly under some strain, “let’s see. I’m part owner of the company. You might wanna start associating my voice with imperative statements.”

“Knock it off, both of you. Jazz, fall in. The Navy is paying us to escort staff, not fight a turf war with a hungry pack.”

“You should have figured that out in Nexus,” Walt said. “You made it a grudge match when we turned to fight.”

“Enough! If either of you have anything else to say, it can wait until we’re back on Vista Landing. Got it?”

Both squads limped away with damaged fighters. Rahul took a hit to his legs and would need to visit the med techs at Haven before leaving the system. The job and the injured were Gavin’s first priorities, but Walt’s deteriorating attitude had to be addressed. Before starting Rhedd Alert, they had always been opportunistic aggressors. This job was all about holding ground, and Walt’s reluctance was becoming a real problem.

Gavin was the first to arrive back at Vista Landing. Rahul was with him and woke when they touched down. Though the techs on Haven had done their work well, Dell insisted on taking him to get checked out at the station’s med center.

The rest of the squad arrived soon after. Gavin left Jazza to secure the ships and asked Walt to help him with the After Action Report in the upstairs office. Judging by the hushed demeanor of the crew, no one was under any illusion that the brothers were going to discuss the report.

Walt stalked into their small, shared office. He brushed past a pair of secondhand chairs and was standing at the window behind the scarred metal desk when Gavin closed the door behind them.

Walt spoke without turning to face him, “If you’re looking to fire off a lecture, I suggest aiming it at Jazza.”

Gavin joined him at the window. The steel was cold where he rested his hands on the frame, the edges sharp. “No lecture. What I need is some answers. What the hell is going on with you, man?”

Walt was cold and quiet.

“You’re fighting against me,” Gavin tried to keep months of frustration from his voice. He was wrung out and tired, but not all of that could be laid at Walt’s increasingly cold feet. “You’re picking fights with the rest of the crew. Hell, you’re fighting everyone but the bastards attacking our transport.”

“I fought just as hard as anyone out there,” Walt snapped.

“Like hell you did,” Gavin voice sounded loud and harsh against the glass. “You’re fighting just hard enough to save your ass.”

“Well you tell me, then. How the hell am I supposed to fight? You want me chasing after trophies like Jazz?”

“If that’s what gets the job done, yeah. We’re not the robbers any more, man. We’re the cops. We’re a deterrent. And when we’re out there, we need to make a statement.”

Walt squinted, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes creasing as he shook his head in what looked like exasperation or disbelief. “Can you hear yourself? Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Every time we bump into trouble out there, we need to jump on it with both feet. But I can’t push you to do that. You don’t like to be pushed.” Gavin felt his brother stiffen beside him, but he pressed on. He had to know if Walt was in this for the long haul. “You never did. You’re like Dad in that way. You’d rather cut and run than fight the tough fights.”

Walt turned his head sharply and yelled, “We had a damn good life doing that.”

The vehemence of it took Gavin by surprise, and he stepped away. After a quiet moment, he leaned against the window frame again. The metal was warmer now from where his hands had rested.

Walt and Gavin Rhedd stood shoulder to shoulder at the office window overlooking their small fleet of ships. They watched together for several minutes in silence until the last of the crew left the hangar. The lighting in the bay dimmed to a cool, cobalt blue, and Gavin’s arms felt leaden. His feet hurt and he wanted desperately to sit, kick off his boots and drink himself into a stupor. But he’d be damned if he sat while Walt still stood.

“We could leave.” The way Walt said it almost sounded like a question.

“You can’t possibly mean that,” Gavin pushed away from the window again.

“Seriously.” Walt finally turned to face him. He was hunched forward in earnest appeal. It put them at eye-level and Walt’s were round and imploring. “We could just go. This place is an anchor. Even if we turn a profit on this UEE job, what’s next? Find more work? Hire more pilots and techs?”

“If all goes right, absolutely. We’re creating something that we never had growing up, something bigger than just us. What exactly do you think we’re working toward here?”

“I don’t know, man.” Walt sounded equally drained. “I thought I did when we started, but it’s just been one thing after the next. We’ve got too many mouths to feed, and it doesn’t look like that’s going to stop.”

“It won’t,” Gavin said. “That’s the responsibility we accepted when we started this place.”

“But this isn’t our kind of fight, Gav. We’re not Advocacy agents. Hell, we’re not even starmen.”

“According to the company charter and the contract that you and I both signed, that’s exactly what we are. Soldiers for hire.”

“Come on. We’re thugs, man. We’ve been flying all our lives, but we don’t fight the fair fights. We pick on people who are either too dumb or too unfortunate to have professional protection. Maybe that ain’t noble or exciting, but that’s what we do, and we used to do it well. But this?” Walt turned back toward the darkened bay, waving his hand inclusively at the ships and machinery below.

Gavin saw it then. He realized what had been eating at Walt all along. His brother wasn’t worried about someone getting hurt in a fair fight. They’d been in dogfights for most of their lives. It was being responsible for the rest of the team that scared him.

“I know we can do this.”

“How much risk are you willing to take to prove that?”

“This ain’t about doing the easy thing, Walt. This game is all about trust. So you ask yourself . . . do you trust me?” He hated that his voice had a pleading quality to it. Couldn’t Walt see that they were already succeeding?

Gavin didn’t get an answer. His brother stared instead at the ships in the darkened bay.

“We need every pilot we’ve got,” Gavin said. “And, let’s face it, you’re our best.”

“This is going to blow up in your face, Gav. This will be just like when you tried to smuggle Osoians to the Xi’an.”

“That would have worked, if you’d backed me up.”

“They dumped you on an asteroid,” Walt’s voice rose in pitch and volume. “You lost Dad’s Gladius with that deal. What’s this one going to cost you?”

Gavin’s gut tightened, and he became uncomfortably warm in his flight suit. He realized that Walt had made his decision.

He swallowed once before trusting himself to speak. “So this is it, huh? We’re just starting to get our feet under us. We’re just learning to work together as a legit team.” He knew this was going to happen. It wasn’t a surprise, so there was no reason to be angry about it. “Gods! And to think I actually hoped you’d stick it out with me.”

“Don’t make it sound like that,” Walt said.

“Sound like what? You’re just doing what you always do.”

Walt didn’t say anything for a while.

Gavin stared out at their ships.

“Will you tell the others?” Walt asked.

“Tell them what? Everyone who matters is probably surprised you lasted this long.”

His lips drew tight into a hard line. His eyes burned a bit so he blinked them. He was tired and he needed a shower.

Gavin left Walt standing alone at the office window. When the rest of Rhedd Alert woke up the next morning, Walter Rhedd was gone.

The first few months without Walt went smoothly, without incident. Paychecks started to roll in, and Gavin chipped away at some of their outstanding bills. They scavenged parts where they could. Dell proved to be a wizard reviving damaged tech. What little money remained after the bill collectors were pacified went straight to reloads.

Losing Walt hurt. It showed Gavin just how much he had relied on his brother to keep the rest of the team sharp. The team’s performance was obviously important, but even that paled when compared to the painful fact that Walt had actually abandoned him.

No one forgot their grudge match with the trio of mismatched marauders, and Rhedd Alert was ready when they met again. The Hornets hit them as they passed through the Teclis Band. From a distance, the band appeared to be a rippling wave of slowly pulsing lights. Closer, the wave resolved into a wall of tumbling asteroids.

Veteran members of Gavin’s team were quite accustomed to clinging to the underside of an asteroid. It wasn’t that long ago that they’d used the tactic to ambush transports themselves. So they weren’t surprised to see attackers materialize from within the Teclis Band.

Gavin triggered his mic to address the squad. “All right, guys, we know these bastards fly like they’re joined at the hip. I think we have the advantage in the band, but we can’t let them pin Cassiopeia inside. Boomer, you’re babysitting. Get that transport through and clear. Everyone else, with me.”

The fighting inside Teclis was fierce. Gavin was in his element darting through tight seams, anticipating erratic rolling movements and using terrain to force the Hornets to break their punishing formations. His newer pilots were good, but they hadn’t spent hundreds of cockpit hours in crowded space like he and Jazza had. Still, they managed to keep the Hornets hemmed in while Boomer and Cassiopeia moved through the tumbling asteroids. Uncharacteristically, one pirate broke from the group and powered through the belt toward the fleeing transport.

“We’ve got a runner,” Jazza warned.

Gavin was already moving to pursue. “I see it. Hold the other two here. They’re easier to manage when they’re not grouped up.”

He darted around blind corners of tumbling stone and managed to gain a few clicks on the faster ship. The Hornet rolled right and strafed around a jagged, monolithic spike of rock. Gavin thrust over it, gaining a little more ground.

The two ships shot from the treacherous confines of the Teclis Band, and Gavin landed a couple hits before the Hornet rolled away. Then it was an all-out race for the fleeing transport.

“Cassiopeia,” Gavin called, “this is Red One, we have a hostile inbound to you.”

“Copy, Red One. Shields are up and we are ready for contact.”

“Boomer?”

“Got it, Gavin.”

“Careful, old man. This one can really fly.”

Gavin saw Boomer’s Avenger rise and turn to face the charging ship. The Hornet rolled again. Boomer matched the oncoming ship, move for move. Both began firing, and their shields lit up like incandescent bulbs. The Hornet yawed starboard and Gavin missed with an out-of-range shot. Boomer’s shield flickered and then fell.

“Boomer!”

Then a blinding shot from a neutron gun tore through Boomer’s Avenger. Bits of hull flew off at odd angles as the Hornet sped past the wrecked ship and continued to close on Cassiopeia.

The Avenger’s cockpit detonated. Gavin pulled up to avoid hitting Boomer and prayed that the older pilot had managed to eject. Cassiopeia loosed a barrage of missiles, but the Hornet had countermeasures.

The marauder’s first pass took out the missile launcher. Gavin met the Hornet head-to-head as it swept around and fired on the transport again. He struck clean hits as they passed, scarring the mismatched armor plating along one side. He turned hard and his ship shook with strain, pressing him forward in his harness, vision dimming at the edges.

He righted the Cutlass in time to see the fleeing Hornet pause, hesitating over a small drifting shape. Gavin’s targeting system identified the object. Boomer’s PRB flashed red.

“No!” He had one hand pressed against the canopy. With successive blasts from the neutron gun, the pirate deliberately tore apart Boomer’s drifting body. Then the Hornet pulled up and raced back toward the Teclis Band.

“My target just disengaged.”

“They’re running.”

Gavin barely registered the shouts and cheers from his team.

Overkill.

Pilots call it getting OK’d. He didn’t know for certain where the term was first coined, but OKing a pilot adrift was breaking one of the few unspoken and universal rules of engagement. Lose a fight, and you might lose your ship. Get beat badly, and you might come out of rehab missing a limb or with some sort of permanent scarring or nerve damage. But to fire on a pilot adrift with only the pressurized skin of a survival suit for protection? It was inhuman.

“Everyone,” worry wrenched Gavin’s gut and he couldn’t keep it from his voice, “form up on Cassiopeia. We have a pilot down.”

Something in his voice quieted the line. His ships emerged from the Teclis Band and rallied to the transport.

Gods.

What was he going to say to Dell? Gavin swallowed hard, blinking fast and trying to think. He should do something. The transport had been hit. He might have other injured pilots. Maybe Walt had been right.

“Hold position until we recover Boomer.” He switched channels to address the transport. “Cassiopeia, this is Red One. We’re scrubbing the mission. Prepare for return to Nexus.”

“Ah . . . Red One, damage is minimal and under control. We are able to proceed.” Gavin couldn’t. He had to get Boomer back to Vista Landing.

Jazza’s voice shook. “Gods. They OK’d him, didn’t they?”

He didn’t answer.

“Take him home, Gav. We’ll tag his ship and tow it on the return trip.”

He nodded, knowing she couldn’t see, but not trusting himself to speak. What was he going to tell Dell?

“Get him there fast,” Jazza said.

“I will.”

Gavin’s mobiGlas buzzed and he activated it. Anyone he actually cared to speak with knew to find him in the office if they needed to talk. Dell was in the med center. She’d made it abundantly clear that she did not want to see him. Jazza had returned with the team after the mission, but they were giving the family a wide berth. Anything getting past his message filters was probably important. And anything important was most likely bad news.

The incoming message was from Barry. Suspicion of bad news, confirmed. He connected the call.

“Gavin. Buddy. Listen, I’ve got some news. This is just a ’heads up’ call, okay? Not a big deal. Is your brother there with you?”

“Walt left,” even to his own ears, Gavin’s voice sounded flat. “You can give your message to me.”

“I got word from a buddy of mine in Contracting. They’re issuing an FTP on the Tyrol contract. It’ll probably go out in the next day or two. Sorry, Gavin.”

“Don’t be,” Gavin wasn’t angry with Barry. He really wasn’t. But his words were coming out sharper than he meant them to. “Just tell me what the hell an FTP is.”

“Sorry. FTP is a Failure To Perform notification.”

He knew it had to be bad. Barry wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t. Damn it! What was next? Vanduul attacks? He’d gone over and over every report from Brock’s files. Never — not in any file — was there evidence of such coordinated and vicious attacks.

Barry read his silence correctly. “Hey, these things get issued all the time, man. I’m just letting you know that it’s coming so you don’t freak out. A couple holes in a transport is nothing when you’re going through a lawless system like Min. They won’t pull your contract for that.”

“What will they pull it for?”

“Well,” Barry drew out the word, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. “You’d have to receive back-to-back FTPs. Or if you lost the transport or something, that’d obviously do it. But Major Greely is pulling for you guys. He’s big on the UEE’s plan to enfranchise local civilian contractors.”

Just what he needed. More pressure. “Thanks, Barry.”

“Keep your chin up, buddy. You guys are doing fine, okay? I mean, you should hear what goes on with other contracts. Seriously, this is nothing.”

“Thanks again.” Gavin disconnected the line. It certainly didn’t feel like they were doing fine. The office door slid open, and Jazza stood silhouetted against the corridor lights.

“Jazz?” Gavin’s stomach sank. He tried to swallow but his throat was tight. “What is it? Where’s Dell?”

She took a step inside and the room’s lights reflected in the wet corners of her brimming eyes. She held herself together, but the effort to do so was visible.

“It’s Boomer,” she said, “It was too much damage this time. He’s . . . he’s really gone.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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sad-ch1ld · 5 years

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