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veni·vidi·vici

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RK900 has perfect analyzing capabilities. He doesn't need to sample the drink in Detective Reed's hand to know it's spiked.

 

"You shouldn't drink that," he says, out of a dull sense of responsibility. He does not, however, elaborate, or do anything but watch.

 

Gavin, little surprisingly, takes offense at his suggestion. "The fuck? Fuck off. If you start behaving like fuckin' Connor I'm gonna fucking throw you out a building." Gavin slams the drink back in one big gulp, wincing as he swallows and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. RK900 stands there, impossibly patient, with one eyebrow slightly quirked.

 

All of this seems very unreal to RK900. Though Reed is, he supposes, conventionally attractive, he's not exactly known to get hit on. In fact, as he ranted to him in a long and taxing stakeout a few weeks ago, the Detective seems to think that he has "fuck off" tattooed to his forehead, making him completely unapproachable, and thus, "unfuckable," in his own words.

 

RK900 only agrees with a small margin of this statement. To his own surprise, to be fair.

 

But for them to end up in a bar to keep eyes on a suspect and Gavin actually catching someone's attention enough to be gifted a drink, that's highly unusual.

 

The fact that it's spiked with a strong aphrodisiac, colloquially known as Slick, and popular with human sex workers and couples for recreational use, making Gavin aroused and wanting without any major health setbacks, well...

 

That seems to be fitting.

 

RK900 keeps an eye on him for the remainder of the night. It's a strong competition of priorities in his directory, to both keep track of their suspect and his partner, who shows first signs of the drug's effect after only 23:45 minutes. Dilated pupils, elevated core temperature, a relaxation of the muscles, and, of course, in human males also the increased blood flow to the penis.

 

RK900 monitors all these changes, and of course, he is also not ignorant towards the young man Gavin had received his anonymous drink from. Gavin is oblivious, but RK900 is not, and knows the man keeps looking at his partner from his spot at the bar, apparently waiting for the right time to strike.

 

At 28:23 minutes, the man slips from his chair. The same moment, RK900 puts his hand on Gavin's shoulder.

 

"Detective," he says, "I think we should call it a night. I doubt we will learn anything more today."

 

Gavin looks up at him, his eyes surprisingly wide, pupils blown. The raised body temperature has made him sweat, and there's a soft sheen of moisture on his brow.

 

"What?" he says.

 

"We should—" RK900 starts again, impatient as he's lost view of the stranger in the crowd and would rather not have him actually approach Gavin.

 

"I fuckin' heard ya," grouses Gavin, raising his hand to brush RK900 away, but he halts upon the skin contact, eyes defocusing. RK900 removes the offending appendage for him. Gavin snaps out of his funk, kind of full-body shrugs, and then nods. "Yeah, alright, let's... let's fucking get out of here, this is not getting us anywhere. I think we need to pick another approach," he says, and his gaze lingers on something in RK900's face before he gruffly shoulders past him and out of the bar.

 

It's a flimsy excuse at best, and were he not deviant, RK900 might oppose the sentiment entirely, focusing on nothing but the mission to find some evidence to link their suspect to their case. The turn of events this evening, however, has slowly but surely overwritten his priorities.

 

So he follows, catching up with Gavin outside, just in time to see him strip out of his jacket. "Fuckin' hell, is it just me, or was it fucking hot in there?" he groans, running a hand through his hair and flapping his t-shirt a few times. RK900 catches a glimpse of his naked stomach underneath, of black boxers peeking up over his jeans.

 

"It's you," he says, eyes snapping back up to meet Gavin's.

 

The man takes a full moment to stare at him, hand sinking down from his neckline. "Fuckin' what?" he says finally.

 

"The drink you accepted," RK900 explains. "It was spiked with Slick."

 

The change in Gavin's face happens so slowly that RK900 doesn't need to be an android to follow it with some satisfaction. "Fuckin'—" says Gavin finally, slowly, breathless, elaborate as ever. "You fucking knew this and didn't try to warn me?!"

 

"I did, actually," says RK900 evenly. "And you just disregarded me, as always."

 

Gavin scoffs at that, but doesn't say anything back. Instead, he looks down at himself. His jeans are worn-out and loose fitting, accommodating his growing erection, but not quite enough to completely conceal it. "I can't fucking believe this shit," he mutters, probably to himself. "Fucking great."

 

The elevated heart beat is most likely due to the drug, but RK900 finds himself trying to ease his partner anyway. "No need to worry. The drug isn't harmful to your organism and you'll be fine in about six hours."

 

Gavin's head snaps up. "Six hours?!" he shouts, throwing up his arms. His jacket flaps. "The fuck am I— six hours ?? That's... I'm pretty sure that means my dick's gonna fall off or something!"

 

RK900 frowns just a little bit. "Don't be over dramatic," he says, impatiently. "No such thing is gonna happen. You don't suffer from priapism, you just ingested a strong aphrodisiac. I assure you your treasured penis is not in danger."

 

"Fuckin' great !" gripes Gavin, grimacing as he reaches down to adjust his hard cock through his jeans, face growing hot when he realizes RK900 is watching. "What!" he barks. "You got me into this mess, don't fucking judge me, android ken doll dickless motherfuckin' plastic dildo !"

 

RK900 sighs just barely. "Do you even pay attention to the nonsense you're spewing, Detective?" He doesn't wait for a reply though, and just shakes his head. "We should probably get you home. I'll drive."

 

Gavin sneers. "I can drive just fuckin' fine!"

 

"You're a temperamental driver when you're in a good mood, Reed, I do not wish to experience your driving when all your blood has left your brain. Now come along."

 

And he actually does.





Gavin fidgets. He slaps the beat of the song on the radio along on his thighs. He plays with the button of the window, opening and closing it. He fiddles with the snaps of his leather jacket. He refreshes his social media feed every few seconds, tapping his fingernails against the back of his phone.

 

And in between, his wrist or knuckles brush over the bulge in his jeans, and his hips twitch in an aborted upwards jerk, and his breath hitches.

 

RK900 watches from the corner of his eye without moving his head.

 

When they arrive at Gavin's apartment complex, Gavin darts out of the car as if it were on fire. RK900 follows, taking his time to collect Gavin's backpack and locking his car, catching up at the front door where Gavin tries and fails to jab his keys into the lock. It keeps tumbling from his hands to the floor, and he curses and bends down to retrieve it.

 

RK900 sidles behind him, brushing past his hip, taking the keys from a flustered Gavin and opens the door for him. Gavin bristles and shoulders past him. In his hurry to get into his bedroom, he leaves the door open, so RK900 invites himself in to sit down Gavin's belongings and close the door.

 

From the other side of the apartment, he can hear rustling. Gavin didn't bother with switching on the lights, but RK900 doesn't need it to see. He follows the noises, carefully brushing open the slightly ajar door.

 

Gavin, jeans pushed down urgently to his thighs, stands with one knee elevated on his bed; unmade, black sheets. His back is turned to Nines, but he can see his shoulders move, his arm jerk. There's a soft, vaguely wet noise.

 

"Reed—" RK900 begins to say, and Gavin whips around, his face red and eyes wild, but RK900's attention in on his lower body; on the trail of dark hair he can see below his shirt, how his hand is curled around his erection, moisture on the tip and his fingers.

 

"Jesus fuck—" Gavin yelps, and only has half the mind to try and cover himself. "What the fuck are you still doing here?!"

 

RK900 crosses the distance between them easily. "I think it unwise to leave you to your own devices, Reed, since you're intoxicated."

 

"What the fuck, Nines—" Gavin grinds out, but already Nines has gripped his shoulders and turned him around, and it doesn't take much pressure to make him buckle against the bed frame and topple him over.

 

Gavin lands on his bed with a grunt, legs effectively trapped by his own jeans, but even with his hard cock standing up obscenely, his look is on Nines when he methodically removes his android jacket.

 

"What the fuck," tries Gavin again, voice trembling, "are you doing, Nines?"

 

"You are in need of assistance, Detective," Nines says calmly, loosening his stiff collar to reveal his long, white, smooth neck underneath.

 

Gavin swallows thickly, not remarking how he's perfectly capable of jerking off on his own, and before he can think of anything else to say, Nines is leaning over him, slowly but surely invading Gavin's personal space. Both of his arms and one knee are on the bed around Gavin's body, and Gavin can feel just how fucking warm the android is. Almost inhumanly so, and it sets Gavin's senses alight.

 

"Try to relax, Detective," says Nines with that quiet rumble of his, and his steely eyes demand Gavin keeps looking at him when Nines' hand moves toward his cock.

 

When he finally touches him, Gavin flinches, clenching his eyes shut. "Augh, fuck," he mutters, hips stuttering up into Nines' hand. "Fuck!"

 

"I'll make it better, Gavin," says Nines, and Gavin would fucking kick him in the head for being so damn cheesy, but the sound of his own name tumbling so calmly from Nines' lips into the tight, hot space between their bodies goes directly into his cock, and he feels himself throb and harden impossibly against the touch.

 

"Just fuckin'—" breathes Gavin as his elbows give in and he falls on his back proper so he's staring at his ceiling, "—fucking move , dammit."

 

"As you wish," says Nines, and he does. His strokes are slow and strong, without urgency, and Gavin writhes because he feels very urgent and it's not enough .

 

"Fuck, fuck!" he groans, throwing one hand up to cover his face, his eyes; he feels cold sweat on his brows and his upper lip and he fucking grinds his hips up into Nines' touch like a fucking horny bitch. "God, fuck, please—" And maybe he is, because he barely recognizes his own voice; a rugged, broken thing, and the harsh words come out with nothing but desperation.

 

"What do you want, Gavin?" asks Nines, still looking at him when Gavin peeks through his fingers. It's enough to make him shudder. "Use your words," Nines says, like an asshole.

 

"Shit, fuck—" Gavin groans, left hand balling into a fist that he slams into the bed in frustration, then curls his fingers into the covers.

 

"I can't hear you," says Nines, and when Gavin lowers his hand, Nines is right there and before Gavin has time to freak out, Nines is kissing him.

 

It's fucking weird, but Gavin moans into Nines' mouth regardless. It's warm, and a little moist, but not as wet as a human's would be, and his tongue and lips have less give, but the sensation is still good, but never enough, and Gavin grabs Nines' neck with one hand, keeping him close for the kiss, and darts the other one down between their bodies to fucking help Nines along—

 

Nines abruptly severs the kiss and has the gall to slap his hand away. He fucking tuts at him. "Reed," he scolds. "Behave."

 

"Well if you're not fucking delivering, fuckin' asshole—" Gavin rasps. Nines has stopped his ministration, and Gavin misses them, misses his mouth, the fucking heat of him—

 

"If you can't behave, Gavin, I'm afraid I'll have to resort to drastic measures," says Nines coolly, and fuck if Gavin knows what that's supposed to mean, but he has a lot of ideas what it might and it's almost enough to fucking make him come then and there.

 

As it is, though, Nines just withdraws.

 

"Come on, fuck, no, I didn't mean—" says Gavin, scrambling to get into a sitting position, to follow after Nines, after his touch, but Nines is already standing and straightening his clothes.

 

"Undress," he says, and Gavin balks.

 

"Don't make me say it twice," says Nines, and though his voice is level, it sounds like a fucking threat.

 

Gavin was uncomfortable being half-dressed anyway. He still has his fucking shoes on, for fuck's sake. He kicks them off, yanks his jeans down all the way, rips the boxers and socks off, and pulls his shirt over his head and throws it unto the growing pile on the floor.

 

He's naked now, and Nines is just standing there, blandly, like he's assessing him. Gavin feels a hot tingle creep up his neck, making him shudder.

 

"What?" he barks. "Not good enough for ya?! We can't all be plastic perfect, yannow!"

 

"On the contrary, Gavin," Nines says. He's moving suddenly, and Gavin finds it almost impossible not to tug at his aching cock at the display, because Nines very slowly opens his cuffs and folds his sleeves up as if he has all the fuckin' time in the world. "Your self-consciousness is misplaced. I find you very adequate."

 

"Fuck me," Gavin may or may not say under his breath, and Nines smiles thinly.

 

"Is that an invitation?" he asks, and he's finally finished rolling up his sleeves, and now he's undoing his belt, pulling it out the loops.

 

"Whoa whoa," mutters Gavin, tracking him with his eyes. "Where's that gonna go?"

 

"Relax," Nines says. "I just want to make sure you don't misbehave." He holds up his belt. "Or would you prefer handcuffs? I think the leather might be a little easier on your wrists."

 

"Fuck," says Gavin, and his blood starts fucking boiling again, if it ever stopped. "Fuck, no, yeah, belt is fine, fuck , you're a kinky motherfucker."

 

"I'm highly adaptable," Nines says smoothly, "so this is probably your influence." And then he motions for Gavin to scoot up the bed, and Gavin does so without needing to be told twice. Nines straddles him, and damn if that isn't a good position for him, perched over Gavin's lap with his collar undone and sleeves rolled up. For as proper as he always looks, this is positively pornographic.

 

Gavin doesn't even try to not touch him. His hands are on his thighs, and they feel powerful and big under his palms when he digs his fingers into the smooth fabric of Nines' dress pants. Nines gives him a look, and Gavin grins. "Said nothing about not touching you ," he says, and for a brief second, Nines' expression flashes into a smirk, and then it's gone again.

 

"Enjoy it while you can," he says, and grabs Gavin's left hand in a steel grip and brings it up to the headboard of his bed. Gavin strokes a last, long brush over Nines; from where his hand rests on his thigh over his hip and over his side, to his chest, and there, under his shirt. Nines lets him, looking down at him with something like benevolent patience. But then the moment is over, and Nines takes his hand, brings it up to the other, secures his wrists quickly and efficiently with his belt, and settles back.

 

It's a snug fit. The leather is warm and smooth from Nines' body heat. It feels amazing. Gavin thinks he can see his heart thunder in his chest like a fucking drum.

 

Clearly, Nines sees it too. He sits back a little, and Gavin's neglected cock just barely brushes against his ass, making him throw his head back and moan.

 

Nines smiles slyly at that, and lowers himself a little more, trusting Gavin to carry him as he grinds himself down against his groin. His ass doesn't have quite the natural give a human's would, but judging from how eagerly Gavin thrusts his hips up against him, he doesn't mind.

 

"What do you want, Gavin?" Nines asks again, looking down at him.

 

Gavin groans and wets his lips. "Do whatever you want with me," he croaks, and fuck if Nines' LED doesn't give a quick, but very noticeable yellow spin. Gavin grins. "Fuck me up, Nines," he says, and it's as much request as it is challenge.

 

Nines' LED settles back to tranquil blue, but it's still spinning, still processing. "Very well," he says, sitting up a little and reaching behind him to grab Gavin's cock, trapping it between his ass and his hand. Gavin thrusts eagerly into the provided space, shameless and wanting, hands pulling at his restraints until the metal bed frame creaks; throat bared.

 

"Fuck," he groans, and he's panting with his jaw slack, muscles in his arms and thighs tightening, eyes shut. "Fuck, Nines—"

 

"Hmm," makes Nines, thoughtfully. He accommodates Gavin's unsteady thrusts, keeps the head of his cock rubbing into the hollow of his hand, and he can feel the slickness of precum. "You're rather easy to please, Gavin. I haven't even done anything yet."

 

"Well fuck you," Gavin pants, squinting up at him just barely. "I'm fucking poisoned, remember?"

 

"Of course," Nines says, and then he moves. He lifts his hip up and guides Gavin's hard cock through his legs and to the front of him, the head brushing against the dark fabric and leaving an obscene, glistening stain.

 

Gavin bites his lip and whimpers .

 

Nines smiles calmly at him. He gives him a couple of lazy, languid strokes, and then he lifts himself up and away. Gavin is about to protest, pulling at his restraints, too on edge to be left fucking hanging there, but then Nines settles between his legs, leans forward and kisses him.

 

Gavin groans against his mouth, hungry for any kind of contact, and he lifts his head as much as he can. It's a surge of biting and panting more than a kiss, Gavin trying out just how much give the android's lips have, licking over his teeth. Nines catches all his noises with his mouth and swallows them down.

 

Then he's moving again. He mouths along Gavin's hot cheeks, lips brushing over his stubble on his jaw and throat, he grazes his collarbone with his teeth and then laps over his chest until he's licking his nipple. Gavin jerks and jolts, hips pushing up frantically searching for friction, but he only barely gets his cock to brush against Nines' stomach.

 

"Fucking— cocktease ," he grunts out, through gritted teeth.

 

"I plan to," says Nines smoothly, pressing another kiss and a toothy nip to Gavin's nipple before he looks up. "I do not possess a gag reflex," he says to Gavin's face just to see his reaction, "but please do try to behave."

 

"Fucking androids!" spews Gavin as he watches, in a sort of aroused terror, as Nines settles comfortably between his legs. He brings his hand up to uselessly smooth that stupid curl of hair back, and even when it still falls back into its proper place on his forehead, he takes Gavin's cock into his mouth.

 

Nines' mouth is warm and tight with little give and not much moisture. It reminds Gavin of the fleshlight somewhere in his bedside drawer, and the idea alone makes it more than fucking enjoyable, and he withers under Nines' touch. "I'm not gonna," he starts, taking gasping breaths, "fucking last much longer, Nines."

 

To his surprise (and disgruntlement), Nines draws back, just enough to speak, his lips brushing against Gavin's tip, getting shiny and wet with precum. "Don't worry, Gavin," he says smugly. "Six hours, remember?"

 

"I can't fuck for six hours!" Gavin protests, weakly, although right now, he feels like he very well will try. He feels so horny and desperate and there's a thousand things he wants to do; he wants to come in Nines' mouth and over his face, spend himself over his chest and that stupid stiff collar of his, he wants to drag Nines' pants down and see for himself what he's like down there, and Gavin wants to bury his mouth there and grind his dick against it, no matter what he might find.

 

He wants to fuck Nines so bad. Has been wanting it, since day one.

 

Nines is back on his dick, but not swallowing it like before; he has a loose hand curled around him and peppers open-mouthed kisses along the length, always with just a hint of teeth, and his thumb rubs lazily over the frenulum.

 

Gavin groans, wiping his sweaty forehead against his biceps. His muscles are trembling, his chest heaving with his unsteady breath. "C'mon," he goads, frustrated, needy. "C'mon!"

 

And then Nines obliges, and he bows forward and takes Gavin's cock back into his mouth, and Gavin is already choking on his breath when he's only half inside of him, but Nines keeps going and going until Gavin feels his nose pressed against his groin.

 

Gavin keens and writhes and bucks his hips, trying to get more, more more more.

 

And then it's too much. His orgasms catches him like a punch to the lungs, suddenly and hard, and Gavin jerks off the bed in surprise, shouting a terse, "oh fuck—oh fuck!" and Nines seems as surprised as himself because he flinches back at first, but then quickly relaxes, pumping Gavin through a toe-curling orgasm, milking him for all he can give. He closes his lips around him when he's done, sucking the last bit out of him, and Gavin whimpers, legs twitching.

 

"Stop, stop," he begs, spent and hypersensitive, bumping his legs against Nines' side.

 

The sheets rustle as Nines leaves him, and Gavin just breathes, eyes closed as the world is still spinning and he feels like he can see lights dancing behind his eyelids.

 

Nines is over him, releasing the belt, and Gavin groans when his arms fall down sore and hurting. Nines rubs them, massaging the tense muscles and helping the blood flow along. Gavin curls up on his side when he feels that he can move again.

 

"How are you?" Nines asks, softly, next to him.

 

Gavin groans a little. "Fine," he grumbles when he trusts his voice to speak. He's not sure if Nines is referring to his arms (sore but fine), his emotional wellbeing (holy shit—he's just been tied to the bed and sucked off by his partner! Android partner! Holy shit !) or the fact that he still has a potent aphrodisiac running through his system. And to be honest, after the first high of his orgasm ebbs away, it doesn't make way for a warm, content, nice afterglow—nothing like wanting to curl up and sleep, just a raw, anxious, needy itch that needs desperate attention.

 

His cock barely flagged.

 

"Do you need to go again?" asks Nines, softly.

 

Gavin nods.















Chapter Text

 

 

The dip of the mattress tells him that Nines is right beside him. He feels his warmth, too, but Gavin is exhausted as if he's run a marathon, and just rests, eyes closed. 

 

His cock is twitching and filling between his legs. The pull of pleasure twinges all the way to his balls and asshole. He wants to touch everything, do everything, jerk off and finger himself open although he hasn't done that since he had that fucking ex who was so fucking insecure about his masculinity that he didn't switch, ever. 

 

Knowing the desire will only get worse once he acts upon it, Gavin tries to rest for as long as he can. 

 

"I'll get you something to drink," says Nines next to him. "It will help flush out the drugs from your system."

 

"Thanks," says Gavin into the pillow. Only when he hears Nines leave the bedroom does he flop to his back, sighing loudly. He blindly paws around his bed for the blanket, haphazardly pulling it over his middle; not for warmth, just for comfort.

 

If his drugged brain had any capacity left to think with, he would probably ponder the fact that Nines followed him home, into his bedroom, into his bed, and had blown him. Quite expertly, too.

 

There's a lot to think about there.

 

But Gavin's rather single-minded right now, and every try to process brings him back to just remembering what had happened, and that only makes his arousal more urgent, and he rubs his wrist against his aching cock through the blanket. 

 

Nines re-emerges with a glass of water that he holds out for Gavin to take as he sits down on the bed. Gavin realizes that he's fucking parched and throws it back in one quick motion. He'd like another glass really, and maybe a third to just splash over his head. 

 

He wonders if Nine is water-proof. He must be, right? He doesn't mind rain. They could totally fuck in the shower. Shit, the mental image is fuckin' nice—Nines, wet, pressed against the tiles of his bathroom, and Gavin can watch the water run down his smooth spine, and he'd watch himself as he thrusts inside him—

 

"Sooo," he drawls slowly. "Wanna go again? Because uh, I don't think my boner's gonna go down anytime soon, and if you're that desperate to be on it, be my fuckin' guest."

 

"What do you need?"

 

"Shit, I don't know—" Gavin shrugs. "Get naked maybe, I wanna see you."

 

Nines' LED flickers. "Sit back on the bed," he says. "Keep your eyes on me, and don't touch yourself."

 

Gavin nods silently and grabs his pillow and poofs it up with a few punches. He throws it back against the headboard to scoot over and lean back, legs drawn in a little if only to not completely obviously tent the blanket with his cock. Nines quickly fills the opening space on the bed and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

 

Gavin watches. He's never seen Nines without his shirt. He doesn't think he's ever seen him without his uniform, come to think of it, and now he's a witness to button after button coming undone over the smooth expanse of his torso.

 

Nines tugs the shirt out of his dress pants and throws it aside. Gavin licks his lips. Nines never really was his type; too smooth, too picture-perfect, maybe too fucking good for him or whatever, but now it's exactly those reasons that make this enticing. The idea to ruin something so flawless. 

 

Nines clearly doesn't do this to tease, either; like with his sleeves earlier, he's quick and methodical, completely no-bullshit, and Gavin and his dick appreciate that very much. 

 

On another occasion, Gavin would maybe like a slower approach. Right now, he really doesn't. 

 

Nines undresses, and of fuckin' course takes the time to fold his clothes and put them in perfect little squares onto the dresser. Then he turns, facing Gavin. "What now?"

 

"You tell me, sexbot," Gavin says, and it's supposed to be a tease, but he doesn't miss the quick yellow spin on Nines' temple. He shrugs. "You were pretty eager to get me off before, what happened to that?"

 

"I don't exactly have protocols for scenarios like this," Nines admits, like it's his fucking fault or something, as he sits back down on the bed. 

 

"Pretty sure there are none," Gavin says. "The real question is, what about you?" Nines stares at him, brows firmly knit. Gavin sighs. "Look, I'm an asshole, but I'm not that kind of asshole. So what do you want?"

 

"I do not need—"

 

"That's fuckin' fine and all," Gavin interrupts. "But what do you want?"

 

Nines looks at him blandly, LED spinning.

 

Gavin sighs again, and then reaches out to clap Nines on the cheek, twice, quickly. His LED quickly circles to red and he grabs Gavin almost instantly, turning his wrist painfully, but Gavin expected no less and is already speaking.

 

"Look asshole," he scolds. "If you're gonna make me believe you're a human being, then you better show some initiative, and not just fucking suck it up like you really are a fucking sexbot!"

 

Nines, spinning yellow again, releases his hand and Gavin shakes the pain out quickly. Fucking android is way too strong for his own good, Gavin thinks, and damn if his dick doesn't give a desperate twitch at that. Fuck, right, that's still a situation down there, isn't it, and Gavin wants nothing more than to get their attention back to that.

 

But he's been in abusive relationships before. People not caring for what he wanted, or when they were overstepping lines, or downright doing things to and with him that he didn't want at all. Gavin coped, because that's what he fucking does, but he knows what a terrible feeling it is to have a dick stuffed in your throat when you would rather puke than swallow. People ignoring when you need them.

 

If Connor is anything to go by, the new deviant androids are fucking helpless on their own, no matter what fucking super-human machines they are.

 

Gavin is not that kind of asshole.

 

"Look, this is supposed to be fun, right?" he says, motioning between them with a hand. "I'm not gonna die or something if you want out. Don't feel fucking obliged to have sex with me just because things got a little heated."

 

Nines stares at him and Gavin can't for the hell of him decipher that look. 

 

"What gave you the impression that I do not enjoy this?" Nines asks. 

 

Gavin scoffs through his nose. "This, smart-ass," he says, and his hand then continues to trail lower on Nines' body, pinches his hip. His hands stay there. "You're not even hard."

 

Nines looks down at himself like it hasn't even occurred to him. "No."

 

"No shit, 'no,'" says Gavin. "Look, if humiliating me gets you off that's fine with me, I can dig it, but I gotta know you enjoy this too, yeah? I dunno, call me a fucking romantic, but—"

 

"Don't be mistaken, Gavin, I do like slapping you around like a little bitch." 

 

Gavin's head snaps up at that; the comment seemingly coming out of nowhere. Considering Nines' haughty look, he probably knows it, too.

 

"Maybe it's time I adjust my sensitivity sensors," he says. "I saw no need so far, but if you desire more reciprocation, that can be arranged."

 

"Uh. Sure. Yeah." Gavin frowns. "Thanks?" 

 

Nines smiles dryly. "No need to thank me, although I do like the idea of you being obedient for once in your life."

 

"Don't get used to it," Gavin snickers, finally relaxing, but then quickly jolts when Nines snakes a hand into his hair and pulls. Gavin throws his head back to accommodate for the movement, a snarl in his throat. 

 

"We'll see about that, Gavin," Nines says coolly. And then he's using his grip on Gavin to lower him down to the bed, and Gavin scrambles to follow along before the damn android rips out his hair. 

 

"Yeesh, Jesus, little warning—" he mutters, and when he's finally flat on the bed again, Nines slides over him, knees under Gavin's armpits. 

 

"I'm sure you can adapt, Gavin," he says, and he continues to keep Gavin's head down with one hand as he takes himself into the other. "Now be good for me and open up. And you better give your best, I don't want to have to increase my sensitivity even further just because you can't deliver."

 

And he gives a final tug, and Gavin snarls in the back of his throat as he opens his mouth and accepts Nines' penis into his mouth. 

 

The fact that Nines' insists that he gets him hard is nothing but spurring him on, and Gavin cranes his neck to ease all of his dick into his mouth and suck like his life depends on it. 

 

The response he's getting is incredibly satisfying—he feels the pulse of Nines' blue blood pick up and fill him over his tongue, over the wetness of his mouth, and when Gavin looks up, Nines is staring intently down at him, never blinking. It would be creepy if it wasn't so damn hot. 

 

When he notices Gavin looking up at him, the hand still holding his hair eases, becomes more gentle, and before Gavin knows it, his eyes flutter shut at the rejuvenating display of affection. It's like water on desert soil, and Gavin drinks it all up. He moans around Nines' cock, now fully erect, hard and heavy on his tongue. 

 

"Good," comes Nines' praise from above, low and so enunciated, no stutter or hitch in his breath. If the compliment isn't spurring Gavin on, it's the sudden, hot-bright want to elicit a reaction; a gasp, a shudder, anything. 

 

The position they're in isn't perfect, but Nines said nothing about no touching, and so Gavin reaches up to grab his ass and push him deeper, further down into his throat. 

 

Nines catches his balance with one hand on the headboard, baring his teeth in a sneer. "That desperate for me, Gavin?" he taunts. "You want me to be rough?" 

 

Gavin tries to nod but that brushes Nines' dick against his soft palate, and he has to fight through the gag reflex. So instead of an answer he's choking and moaning, and through fluttering lashes he sees Nines smile at him, and his warm thumb brushes over his cheekbone, with his index finger pressing into the soft spot behind Gavin's ear, just hard enough to hurt. 

 

When Gavin has caught his breath enough again to calm down, Nines' hand moves into his hair again, gripping at the roots for a firm grip, and starts to rock his hips into his mouth. 

 

Gavin's fingers tense over the span of Nines' ass, nails digging into the synthetic skin hard enough to make it break away and let the white underneath shine through. 

 

"Behave," rumbles Nines above him, though neither the grip of his hand nor the rocking of his hips ceases. "If you break my skin, I'll break yours."

 

The words send a hot tingle through his body and Gavin jerks, toes curling. He huffs through his nose, because he can't do much else. Nines is controlling the movements and speed now and Gavin is utterly useless below him and can only hope the tightness of his mouth, the wetness of it, and his desperation is enough to get Nines off. 

 

He eases his fingernails from Nines' flesh though, pressing instead with his pads, kneading the pliant skin of Nines' ass. Nines hums a soft noise in complacency. 

 

"Good," he says softly above him, and when Gavin looks up again, Nines is still looking at him. His lips are parted just slightly. He's not sweaty and his hair isn't tousled enough, but there's something about his posture and the lidded eyes that finally, blessedly, makes him look horny. 

 

Gavin moans desperately around Nines' cock, eyes closing again. He lets his hands fall from Nines' hips because he needs to, has to touch himself now, it's like he feels that he's gonna die if he doesn't come soon. He could hold out just so until now, but he's reached the end of his rope. 

 

Nines of course notices, and leans back a little to look over his shoulder. The motion draws him out of Gavin's mouth a little, and Gavin makes a half-aborted noise of complaint until Nines slides back inside. 

 

"I trust you don't let up when you come, Gavin," says Nines, and his voice is still so smooth, so even, he's still in control and Gavin can feel tension take hold of his entire body, eyes rolling back and drawing his legs in, he's so close suddenly, so close, and it shakes him and he drools around Nines' cock, salivating helplessly because he's so, so desperate. 

 

And then everything locks up as he comes, noise muffled in his throat, and he feels his dick twitch and spill over his fingers, and he tries to relax his mouth so Nines will be satisfied with him, but it's hard when his entire body is strung tight.

 

Nines doesn't let up fucking into his mouth even as Gavin comes, and despite pressing himself deep enough to brush the tip of his cock against the tight opening of Gavin's throat, his pace is slow, controlled. Gavin tries to push him in quicker, wants to satiate his desire to make Nines' composure break, but Nines catches on to it and simply withdraws completely. 

 

Gavin tries to follow, lips pursing over his cock and neck craning, but then the thick heat of him leaves him and all Gavin has is a few threads of fluid connecting them, but they break and all he's left with is a wet chin. 

 

He sits up when Nines slides off of him. "No, no, hey," he begins to say, wiping his mouth; his jaw aches, his throat is sore, his voice is rugged, he had no chance to relax with his orgasm. Just like before its as if it hasn't even happened, he's still hard, painfully so now, and the desire to do something against it is overwhelming. 

 

"Six hours, Gavin," Nines soothes, and Gavin scoffs.

 

"Four, by now," he argues, "and I'm still pretty sure I can't fuck that long!" 

 

"Don't sell yourself short," Nines says. "I'm sure you would manage, if I made you."

 

"Well shit," mumbles Gavin, and with Nines gone, he reaches down to give himself a few strokes, hips pushing up against his hand. 

 

"Hands off," Nines says leisurely, and Gavin makes a face but obliges. Nines' has sat up to go through through the top drawer of Gavin's night stand, unprompted. 

 

Gavin knows the shit he stores in that drawer, and he feels a twinge of shame and embarrassment, but that doesn't stop him from sitting up to sidle up against Nines and bite into his shoulders, brushing his stubble over that perfect skin.

 

"What are your plans?" he asks. "I'm down with whatever. You can raw me if you want."

 

Nines sighs, and looks up from the mess in the drawer to stare evenly at Gavin. "For once in your life, be sensible," he scolds. "You haven't had penetrative sex in three months—" 

 

"How in the fuck do you even know that—" 

 

"—and to assure your physical well-being, we're not gonna rush anything—" 

 

"Oh come on, I can take it! Are you saying I'm a pussy?" 

 

"No, Gavin," sighs Nines. He turns around and catches Gavin by the cheeks, pulling Gavin's lips into a fake pout. He uses just enough strength to make it hurt. "I'm saying I'll ride you until you cry."

 

Gavin blinks, face still mushed, and feels his ears and cheek and forehead and neck grow hot with a feverish blush. His dick twitches, aching for attention, but Nines' eyes are cool and light in the dark, and there's a sparkle in them, and Gavin doesn't dare move. 

 

Nines' smile reaches his lips, strong enough that Gavin can see a flash of teeth, but only for a split second before he releases Gavin and shoves him back into the bed. Gavin goes willingly. 

 

"Belt again?" Nines asks. "Or handcuffs this time?" 

 

Gavin shakes his head. "If you really wanna sit on me, I wanna touch you," he says. 

 

"Fine. You may," allows Nines, and promptly Gavin grabs his hips again. Nines leans over to the still open drawer, and holds up a ball gag. "How about this?"

 

"That's just a cheap way to make me shut up, and very lazy," Gavin says around a smirk, though he can't deny that his dick gives an interested twitch at that. Judging from Nines' look, he feels it, too. 

 

"Another time maybe," he says smoothly. "I did rather enjoy the noises you were making, though I think some strict correction regarding your choice of words will become necessary in the future,"

 

"Yeah my parents tried that too," Gavin says, almost too happily. "Didn't take."

 

"I assure you—" Nines says coolly, leaning in until their faces are close. He wipes a strand of hair from Gavin's forehead with his fingertips. "—I have better measures to my repertoire than your parents."

 

"I fuckin' hope so," Gavin manages, but his voice sounds a little flat. "Was never much into that Daddy spank me thing, so you have to come up with your own ideas."

 

"Daddy? No, that won't do." Nines leans back, considering. "How about sir? I'd like that."

 

"You would, wouldn't you? You're such a horny bitch."

 

"Says the guy currently leaking bodily fluids all over the place."

 

"Yeah us humans are pretty gross," Gavin snickers. 

 

"Indeed," says Nines, like he's burdened with so much. 

 

"Speaking of gross, let me eat your ass. I want you to sit on my face."

 

"Another time, Gavin. I think we're quite done with the foreplay."

 

"Hey. You can't tell me you're not gonna fuck me raw and then claim that shit for yourself! I said it first."

 

Nines does that eye roll that means he thinks Gavin is fucking stupid. "I self-lubricate and can adjust to accommodate for your penis without pain," he explains like he's talking to a child, and isn't that fucked up. 

 

Gavin stares dumbly. 

 

"Androids are fucking nasty," he says finally. "Like Christ, get your head out of the fucking gutter." 

 

"Humans designed us," Nines reminds him. "To accommodate for human needs. I'd say it's pretty clear who's really depraved."

 

Considering who came up with them, Gavin isn't surprised. He grimaces, then let's his gaze swipe over Nines. "That mean I don't get to finger you?" he asks, and can't quite keep the disappointment from his voice. 

 

Nines shrugs a little. "I see no need for it, unless you want to."

 

"I want to. Let me do at least a little bit for you, yeah?" 

 

"Of course." 

 

Gavin sits up a little, pulling Nines into his lap and lets his hands travel down his body, between his legs. When his fingers slip between his cheeks, Gavin can already feel moisture there, not unlike lube. 

 

"Wow," he mutters against Nines' collarbone. "this is so fucking hot. Like you get wet for me or something."

 

"It's actually—" 

 

Gavin interrupts, rubbing his cheek against Nines' throat. "Shh, don't ruin this, tin can."

 

Surprisingly, Nines closes his mouth. Gavin grins at him, peppering kisses and little nips over his chest and shoulders and neck as he slips a first finger inside of him.

 

Nines feels slick and smooth and warm. Gavin can't fathom that he's gonna have his dick in that, and tests Nines' limits by quickly inserting the second finger as well. Nines shifts, and looking up to check if he's alright, Gavin just catches how Nines is biting down on his lower lip. When their eyes meet, Nines quickly releases his lip, huffing a little through his nose. 

 

Gavin decides not to push his luck and comment on it. He just nuzzles his face against Nines' chest happily and rubs his fingers into him. 

 

"How do you want this?" he asks against Nines' skin. "Cowgirl?" When Nines doesn't immediately answer, he looks up just in time to catch a glimpse of yellow. The idea that Nines is googling this as he goes along is hilarious and endearing at the same time. But maybe he's just contemplating. 

 

"No," says Nines flatly. "Face to face."

 

"And I thought you were a hard ass," Gavin snickers. "Fuckin' sap."

 

"It's nothing like that," Nines says easily. "I just like your—" And then he stops himself, and Gavin raises his eyebrows. There's a twitch in Nines' lips, like distaste. The disappointment of the admittance, and the knowledge that he can't take it back now. Gavin could've punched the air in victory. For once in his life, he tries not to wear his heart on his sleeve, and tries to purse his lips against the smile that wanted to spread. Nines is still speaking. 

 

"—abdomen," he is saying, staring down to where his hands were resting exactly there. The index finger of his right hand was just a brush away from Gavin's navel, and he could feel him twitch. It reverberated in the few hairs he disturbed, and they raised up with goosebumps. 

 

"Rigorous core training," Gavin quips easily. "So, what gets you off, you wanna jizz all over that?"

 

Nines gives a very curt, very quick nod. Almost a jerk. Gavin can't help the damn grin now. 

 

"Nice," he says. "Good. C'mere."

 

Nines settles back over Gavin's lap as he draws him in and jostles him over his lap, both knees to Gavin's sides. Gavin holds him by the hip with one hand and let's the other fall between them, lining himself up. 

 

"Sit," he says, and Nines bares his teeth in a sneer but complies. Hands firmly set against Gavin's chest, he sinks unto Gavin's cock. 

 

A groan tumbles from Gavin's mouth, and Nines is, infuriatingly so, still way too composed. 

 

"Yo," Gavin grits through his teeth. "Amp up your sensitivity, man."

 

"I'm already at 45%—" Nines begins, but Gavin reaches up to grab his face and pulls him down. 

 

"Make that 80, plastic prick," he says. "See how cool and composed you are then."

 

"I don't—"

 

"Just do it for me, alright?"

 

Nines looks at him, entirely exasperated, with just an idea of fondness in his cool eyes. Then he sighs dramatically, and underlines his annoyance at Gavin's request with a visible roll of his eyes. 

 

And then Gavin can tell Nines upped his sensors. A full-body tremble makes him shiver, and he kind of draws in on himself in Gavin's lap, knees going up and hands falling down to where he's sitting on Gavin's cock. 

 

"Good?" asks Gavin, watching like a bloodhound. 

 

"Adequate," huffs Nines.

 

"Asshole." But Gavin is grinning. "C'mon, move."

 

Nines kind of grunts, a strange noise coming from him, but Gavin grins hard enough to make his cheeks hurt, and grabs his hips to feel every movement. 

 

"That's it. Up and down, that's it. Fuck, you're so tight. God—" He's babbling, just word-barfing whatever whatever comes up, because Nines said he liked it when he was vocal. Nines himself is infuriatingly silent on top of him, but he's breathing more heavily now at least, trying to pump air into his body to help cool down his processors. 

 

"God, fuck," groans Gavin, throwing his head back into the pillow, hands clinging to Nines' hips. By now, he has his feet pressed against the mattress so he can thrust up and into Nines' body. "Fuck me, Nines, I'm not gonna last much longer."

 

"You've been good for me, Gavin," says Nines through the haze of arousal. "You can come for me."

 

"Fuck," Gavin grinds out, through his teeth. "Fuck, god—give me your hand."

 

Nines blinks, but holds out his hand, and Gavin grabs it, spreads the fingers with his own, and places the width of Nines' palm over his throat. Nines understands immediately and squeezes. Not too hard, just enough that Gavin sputters, hips bucking, gasping for air that Nines denies him. 

 

"Fuck, Nines," he croaks, and again, "Nines, Nines—" and then he spasms, groaning, legs kicking up as he comes inside of Nines. 

 

Nines slows himself down until Gavin stops twitching and writhing beneath him, and lets his hand slip off his throat, cradling his cheek. 

 

He leans in and presses a kiss to Gavin's lips. His skin is damp and tastes of salt, but bis tongue is hot. Gavin heaves a deep sigh against Nines' mouth. 

 

"You're still hard," Nines mutters against him. 

 

Gavin grimaces against his lips. "You're still sitting on me."

 

"Those two things are not related." Nines leans back again. "How are you feeling?" 

 

Gavin kind of shrugs, hands caressing lazily over Nines' thighs. "If I'm not dead already, it's probably gonna happen soon."

 

"I have your vitals under surveillance at all times," Nines says smoothly. "I'll get you some more water when we're done. You'll be fine."

 

"I just wanna smoke and then pass out and sleep twelve hours. Maybe get a pizza in between," Gavin says, with a deep sense of self-pity, and Nines scoffs. 

 

"For all your bad traits, Detective Reed, I don't know you to be a quitter."

 

"Gimme a break. I'm not usually drugged up and cum three times in a night."

 

Nines makes a considering noise, and then proceeds to lift his hip up a little. Gavin full-body winces, grabbing Nines' hard around the hip.

 

"Fuck, Jesus," he grinds out. 

 

Nines stills. "Too much?"

 

"Yeah. Kinda." Gavin grimaces and eases his grip a little. "Keep going," he says then, softly.

 

Nines does, and every second of it is sweet agony. Gavin grits his teeth and bears through it, but he needs Nines to stop every few thrusts. He's so sensitive now that it makes stars explode behind his closed eyelids, and the pain spurs him on and he wants more and more and more. 

 

He's so hellbent on enduring it and making it through every wave of too much too much that he barely notices that Nines has started to rub a hand over his own cock as he rides him. When Gavin finally realizes it, it's a whole other level of torment.

 

"Fucking hell," he groans, and he throws his head back and grabs Nines' hips in a vice grip that breaks his skin again. "You're gonna fucking kill me."

 

Nines doesn't have the capacity to answer anymore, and Gavin feels his eyes water because he wants to, he needs to come but it's not happening now, Nines is only using him to get off himself, and Gavin blinks away tears as he stares, open-mouthed, as Nines' hand speeds up and his dick is twitching in his hand, and then Nines is coming and fuck if it's not the most beautiful thing Gavin has ever seen. 

 

"Fuck," he whispers, and it sounds like a fucking sob. Nines exhales a long breath, head lolling forward as even he can't quite keep up his composure. "You're fuckin' beautiful," Gavin murmurs, reaching through the haze to run a hand over Nines' cheek. 

 

Nines sighs quietly and moves his head just a fraction to lean into the touch. It's silent for a moment as he catches his breath, and when he opens his cool eyes, there's a smile in them,

 

"I said I'd make you cry," he says into the quiet between them.

 

Gavin snorts, and pulls at his earlobe. "Asshole," he says, full of fondness, even as he wipes his wrist over his wet eyes.

 

Nines just hums noncommittally and then lifts himself off of Gavin, who groans, being reminded that he's still very hard and very much uncomfortable because of it.

 

"I think I'm done for tonight," he wheezes, flopping back down on the mattress. All his limbs feel like goo. He's exhausted. "If you wanna make good on all your promises to kill me, now would be a good time."

 

"But then your suffering would be over, Gavin, and where's the fun in that?"

 

"Asshole," Gavin says again, without gusto, and watches as Nines moves so slip back between his legs. "No, please, I can't—" he starts to say as Nines leans in to kiss his dick. "Ugh. That's just fucking gross," Gavin grits out, grabbing Nines by the hair.

 

"I'm an android," Nines reminds him evenly. "And my lubricant is Thirium-based and sterile. The only thing gross about this is you."

 

"Just—don't, I'm fucking done, I can't—" Gavin mutters, but Nines is already back at it, holding Gavin loosely in one hand like he did before, and only peppering soft kisses and kitten licks along the length. 

 

Gavin whimpers and curls around Nines, and it's an even level of arousal and hurt, and when his orgasm hits him, it's without build-up and warning, and Gavin can do nothing but breathe and hold on and he spills, weakly now, over Nines' face and hands. 

 

The whole world is spinning, and Gavin reaches out blindly, pawing at Nines, who takes his hand and holds it, and Gavin clings to it until everything calms down a little.

 

He has never in his life felt so exhausted. 

 

"Are you OK?" 

 

The words reach him slowly through the darkness. Gavin shakes his head, then shrugs and nods. Something soft touches his temple: Nines' lips, he realizes belatedly, when the kiss has already ended. 

 

"I'll get something to clean you up, and get you something to drink," Nines announces, giving the hand he's still holding a squeeze. "I'll be right back."

 

Gavin nods. He then plummets into darkness, void, oblivion, for aeons, and he just drifts into blessed sleep until he feels the touch of a warm damp cloth on his skin. 

 

He struggles to open his eyes. Nines' LED is a calm blue in the darkness, and illuminates them in its soft light. He looks up, and their eyes meet, and neither of them says anything. Gavin just closes his eyes again, and Nines continue to clean them both up. The mattress dips as he sidles closer to him. 

 

"You should drink this before you sleep," he says, and Gavin nods and doesn't move. Nines sighs. "Gavin."

 

Gavin groans, and through herculean effort manages to sit up enough to accept another glass of water. It's cold and revitalizing. He downs it in one greedy gulp. 

 

"Question," he rasps as he falls back into his pillow, holding out the glass for Nines to put away. "Why the fuck did you let me drink that?"

 

Nines looks at him as if he's fucking stupid. "You need to rehydrate, Gavin, and—"

 

"Nah, nah, I mean..." Gavin waves a sluggish hand in the air. "In the bar. You knew it was spiked. Why did you let me drink it?"

 

Nines doesn't answer. Gavin moves his head to stare at him. Nines has his head turned to the side so that Gavin can't see the LED; but joke's on him, the light of it is bright in the dark room, painting Nines' profile yellow.

 

Nines is silent for a while, moving his mouth as if he's silently trying out an answer. "I was curious," he says then, and faces Gavin again. The LED is back to blue. If that was a tinge of a conscience, it's fucking gone now. 

 

Gavin doesn't breathe for a moment. "About what," he says, voice flat. 

 

Nines is quiet again for a bit. "What it would be like to have sex with you," he says eventually, and looks Gavin straight in the eye.

 

Gavin scoffs at that, because he's too terrified and nervous to react any other way. But Nines doesn't laugh, of course he doesn't, he just stares at him with those terribly grey eyes and looks completely stone-faced serious.

 

"You could've just, y'know, asked," Gavin says when the following silence becomes unbearable.

 

"My preconstruction of the situation promised a 93,4% probability of success under the given circumstances," says Nines, because of fucking course he does. "Asking in a verbal conversation in an out of work context only amounted to 45,1%, with slightly elevated levels of success should you be under the influence of either alcohol or marijuana."

 

"Uh," makes Gavin, because there really isn't much else to say. "Okay," he says, and shuts his mouth, and opens it again to ask, "so how was it?"

 

Nines eyes him flatly. "Is this you asking how well you performed sexually?"

 

Gavin shrugs and grimaces. "You said you were curious."

 

Nines hums and looks into the darkness for a while. Gavin waits. He wants to sleep badly, but he keeps himself awake for this. Finally, Nines shifts.

 

He licks his lips, and then speaks. "I would like to do it again." He sees the terror in Gavin's eyes and his expression softens just a smidgen. "Not now. You need to rest first. And I need to process the new information I gathered."

 

"I had no ideas androids were so horny," Gavin mutters, but the snark is only hiding what he really feels: something shy and fluttering, warm in his stomach. He feels a little bit sick with it, but it's weirdly pleasant. 

 

"You should sleep, if you can," Nines says into his thoughts. "Should you wake up and still be under the influence, I'll be here to help."

 

"Isn't that a comfort," Gavin sneers, but he grabs the blanket, and punches his pillow into the perfect shape for his head, and gets comfortable. Nines moves to leave the bed, to get dressed, and Gavin grabs his wrist. "The fuck do you think you're doing?" he asks, and before Nines can answer, Gavin says, "You can do whatever it is you tin cans do at night right here."

 

Nines looks at him as if he's about to argue, and then makes a show of sighing and rolling his eyes as he slips under the blanket with Gavin.

 

Gavin passes out the moment they're settled, and he has one arm thrown over Nines' chest, and Nines holds his hand loosely in his, blue LED softly illuminating the room.