It's 8:36 when Gavin finally leaves the station; three and a half hours later than he should have finished. Exhaustion presses behind his eyelids and reminds him of how bloody long this day has been; of how much has happened.
Three hours and yet he still couldn't quite process it all. It's taken this long for the realization to dawn on him that Ryan is officially gone. Not coming back, at least, for a very long time.
With three counts of assault and a charge for possession and manufacturing of Red Ice and various other narcotics, Ryan is looking at a potential fifteen years in jail — if not more — for the crimes he has committed. He hadn't coughed straight away, but Mason Walker had when he was offered a significantly shorter sentence in exchange for information.
Apparently, Walker had more dirt on Ryan than Gavin was ever even aware of. The series of events and questions unveils three counts of burglary, another count for assault, a link to Black Market deals that suggest Ryan may have been involved with several other suppliers and Synth Traders, and two suspected rape attempts.
Ryan says nothing when confronted, but he doesn't need to. Nine's programming picks up no dishonesty in Walker's statement, no confession is necessary.
It leaves a horrible pit of acid in Gavin's stomach to learn this; to learn he wasn't the only person who suffered so violently at the hands of that bastard. To know that, maybe, had he of swallowed his pride and come clean about what was happening to him months ago — other people may have not had to go through the same treatment.
Guilt eats at him and makes his anxiety skyrocket, but at this point, what doesn't?
Fowler had asked Gavin for a statement himself, being so closely involved in what was happening, and after an hour of protest, he had reluctantly agreed under the promise that the questioning is done in strict confidentiality. Fowler recommended that Gavin tells them everything he knows about Ryan — about their relationship.
Every. Single. Detail.
The idea in itself made Gavin squirm, if only just minutely — because every single detail meant every single detail, and Gavin wasn't a hundred percent certain he was ready to talk about that; if he even had the willpower to force it out. Yet, the deep-seated need to see Ryan behind bars was stronger than the rest of his thoughts, so he would go and give his bloody statement and get it over with.
Anderson was surprised to learn that he was the one who Gavin wanted to be interviewed by —after being given the choice of every officer in the entire bullpen, but he still agrees to do so and doesn't ask any questions. Apart from the ones he needs to, of course.
Ryan's appearance in the station this afternoon was somewhat of a blur for Gavin, but he could faintly remember the Lieutenant being present somewhere in the background, and he knows Hank is intelligent enough to have been able to decipher what had probably transpired between the two of them. Which is, likely, why he kept his usual shitty banter on standby.
Gavin can't bring himself to be questioned by Nine. He half expected him to be upset about the ordeal, but actually, he agreed it was for the best. That his opinion would be largely biased in Gavin's favor and would only end in him wanting to kill Ryan — more than he already does. Gavin doesn't know how to feel about this information, or what to do with it, but in the end, he takes it as flattery.
Nevertheless, Hank was more than happy to oblige when Gavin asked, and honestly, it wasn't as awkward as Gavin thought it would be. It wasn't like they had never got on; they used to be quite good friends before Cole died, but stuff like that fucks you up and makes you push people away, and Hank couldn't have pushed further.
It reminded him now why he liked Hank so much. He's known the guy for god knows how long now, and he used to be someone Gavin looked up to and respected, and maybe secretly still did. He knew how to handle situations like this, how to talk and hold himself, having been subject to a few of them over the course of his career, no doubt.
Gavin tried not to think about all the other people who have sat in this room talking about their awful partners.
Hank's not the sympathetic type, either — which Gavin's really fucking grateful for. There's no pitying looks or gut—wrenching “I’m sorry’s” exchanged across the table, acts of charity that Gavin resents. Hank sits and listens and does not undermine Gavin in any way. He does, however, give his shoulder a light squeeze on the way out of the interrogation room, but Gavin finds he doesn't mind that as much.
Fowler calls Gavin into the office one final time before he's allowed to leave and he already knows what kind of speech to expect — the accusations of: “you let your team down”, “you've been withholding evidence”, “I outta fire you on the spot”. Gavin braces himself for the latter, the one he expects the most, and waits for it whilst he sits and listens to the awful silence in the office.
But instead, Fowler thanks him for a job well done and gives him some time away from work, which is... an unexpected development, but Gavin, for once, does not complain. He accepts the week's recovery time, but only after ensuring he still gets paid for it — Gavin can hardly afford to lose out on a week's wages, despite how much of a fucking rest he needs.
Now, as Gavin emerges from the DPD, he's just really looking forward to slumping down onto a couch with a drink. To getting away from everyone in the station and being alone for a while. Or, at least, alone with Nine and his demon cat.
He and Nine haven't really had a chance to speak since everything happened with Ryan a few hours prior, not by themselves, at least, and this fact makes Gavin realize how much they need to talk.
Yet, they're silent as they walk out of the station and silent as they drive home. It isn't an uncomfortable or awkward silence, far from it — Gavin actually feels more at peace listening to the quiet between them than he has in weeks; quite content to enjoy his company in the confined space of the car.
Nine is the one who is driving, surprise surprise, after insisting that Gavin was nowhere near well enough to be doing so. Gavin brushes it aside. The pain has lessened significantly by now and the only thing that is really hurting is his wrist, but the painkillers he swallowed before leaving the station should take that away soon enough.
Other than that he feels perfectly fine, albeit a bit exhausted, but he doesn't offer any complaints when Nine decides he'll drive. It gives him some time to recuperate in the car, to pull his thoughts together and figure out exactly what kind of conversation he wants to have with Nine when they return to his house.
But, even after the twenty-minute drive is done and dusted, Gavin still hasn't managed to coherently string together a few words — let alone a conversation.
Anxiety bubbles in the pit of his stomach as they pull up outside of Nine's house, knowing they can no longer delay the talk they were about to have — knowing Gavin can no longer delay it. It's a strange fear that settles somewhere between unease and the feeling of knowing you're about to vomit, and Nine picks up on the fluctuation of his emotions before Gavin can even fathom why it's happening.
“Are you alright, Detective?” Nine asks, “You seem preoccupied.”
The lump in Gavin's throat is unrelenting and he bites his tongue to hold back the urge to say something witty and sarcastic because of course, he's fucking preoccupied. Instead, he settles on, “Yeah, I'm fine. Jus’ tired.”
Not entirely a lie, he is exhausted. Nine sees it too, “I understand. It's been a long day.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Gavin fidgets with his sleeve, picking at the threads. “I, er... kinda think we have to.”
“It's your choice.”
Hesitation creeps into his voice for probably the fifth time in the conversation already but Gavin stays determined, “Sure, just... not here. Inside. With a drink.”
Nine nods as he says, “Of course.”
Falling into a seat has never felt so comfortable as when Gavin slumps down onto Nine's couch a few minutes later, inside and tucked away from the world against, what Gavin currently perceives as, the softest pillows ever known to man. Boots and coats are kicked off and it's mere seconds before Lucifer makes her way into the living room and jumps up onto the space beside Gavin.
She immediately nuzzles into Gavin's lap as if she can sense he's had a long day, or it might just be because the bitch is hungry. Either way, Gavin brushes his fingers through her soft fur affectionately and appreciates the warmth and comfort she provides.
“On this one occasion,” Nine announces as he emerges from the kitchen Gavin hadn't even seen him walk into, startling him, “I will willingly provide you with alcohol. Every other time henceforth I will complain about its terrible health risks and long-term effects.”
He places a glass of scotch down on the coffee table in front of Gavin, perfect cubes of ice floating at the surface that Gavin wants to scoff at. A smirk settles on his face before he can stop it, “You sound like my doctor.”
“You should listen to your doctor.”
“Hard to listen to a guy who comes in stinkin' of booze himself every day,” Gavin reaches for the glass with his bad hand, and shifts to his other arm to rectify the situation, “if you ain't gonna practice what you preach, don't preach it.”
A gorgeous smile adorns Nine's face that Gavin finds himself wanting to just stare at, “A wise ideology.”
“We seem to be beating around the bush. We should be talking about what happened at the station today, instead we have gone slightly off topic.”
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Gavin huffs half-heartedly into his glass of scotch, “That's kinda the point.”
“Gavin, if you don't wish to talk, then—”
“No, it's fine. I know we gotta, just... lemme finish my drink first, alright?”
There's a brief hum of silence in which Gavin and Nine lock eyes as he waits for an answer, and Gavin suddenly finds himself wishing he couldn't see the yellow whirring of Nine's LED, but Nine concedes and nods all the same and lets Gavin finish his drink in peace.
They're sat close enough that their arms are pressing together and if Gavin moves his hand a few inches to the side he can lace his fingers between Nine's, some form of contact in the few minutes of silence. He briefly considers doing it, wanting to know what that would feel like, but before his hand has even shifted Luci starts whining about the lack of attention and Gavin has to return his fingers to her fur.
Nine's lips quirk upward as if he knows what Gavin wanted to do just from that small movement, but he doesn't act on it and he still doesn't speak, and won't until the glass is empty and Gavin is ready to continue.
Ice rattles against the bottom of the glass as it's placed back down firmly on the coffee table and Gavin continues to stare at it as he settles back into the couch, thinking about where to start. There's so much it almost feels impossible to pick a place to begin, which is why Gavin settles for the most obvious of all of them.
“Ryan's gone.” He breathes out slowly as if he didn't quite believe it himself. Which he didn't.
The whirl of Nine's LED indicator signifies a disbelief of the same multitude, “Correct. I overheard the Captain say the final estimation of his sentence is fifteen years in total. I estimated differently — he could potentially be sentenced for longer should those crimes Mr. Walker mentioned turn out to be accurate. But yes, he is gone.”
“I can't wrap my head around it.” Gavin stares at the glass ahead of him as if he could will it to fill back up with scotch. “All those months and just like that... he's gone. I shoulda talked about it sooner. Maybe then he wouldn't have—”
He didn't finish the sentence. He can't even get the words out, can't talk about all those other people who have suffered at Ryan's hands. It sticks in his throat with the rest of his overwhelming guilt. A steady tremor goes through one of his hands that he barely notices, but Nine, obviously, does.
“You shouldn't blame yourself, Gavin. The situation was out of your hands — you had no way of knowing what Ryan was doing outside of your home.”
“No, but I knew what he was capable of.” Gavin scowls, “I knew he was a shitty enough person to beat his own boyfriend, I shoulda guessed he'd be able to hurt other people just as easily.”
Nine doesn't respond, his LED spinning rapidly as he tries to think of what to say. He always has an answer for everything, regardless of the situation, yet now he is speechless. Had the circumstances been a little more lighthearted, Gavin would have been proud of rendering the Android so unusually quiet.
Another thought absently occurs in Gavin's mind; that he's never actually said it out loud until now. Ryan beats him. Had beaten him. It doesn't hurt to say it anymore, not really. It just feels... numb. As if some part of his life has just been blacked out.
Gavin decides he prefers it this way.
“You should be proud of yourself, you know.” Nine says finally, flawing Gavin for a moment, “I know standing up against Ryan like that wasn't easy, but you did it and now you never have to face him again. Everyone at the station saw how well you handled yourself. They are all proud of you — and so am I.”
Heat creeps up the back of Gavin's neck and onto his cheeks, accompanied quickly by the upturn of his lips. It's been a while since someones been proud of him. It makes his insides feel warm and fuzzy and, for once, he doesn't hate it.
He tries to express his gratitude but “thank you” gets lost somewhere between his brain and mouth and all he can muster instead is a small “mm” noise and a nod of his head. Nine doesn't complain though — he never does. He understands how shit Gavin is with emotions, maybe because he experienced difficulty with them himself not so long ago, so he never has to worry for too long about not being able to express himself.
Gavin clears his throat when he notices there's been a long period of silence between them, “Why didn't you defend yourself?” He asks because he's been wanting to ask for the last three hours. “Earlier, when Ryan turned on you. Why didn't you stop him?”
“It wouldn't have amounted to anything.” Nine responds, simply, “The only thing that would be different is that Ryan would have been arrested with a broken arm and I would have received a disciplinary. It didn't seem worth my effort.”
Gavin smirks at the thought. He can't help but entertain the idea of Nine breaking Ryan's arm — snapping it in half like a twig, probably. He's relieved he didn't, because a disciplinary is the last thing either of them need on their hands right now, but the thought of that strength, unrelenting and powerful, is enough to make Gavin shudder.
He decides not to address that the thought of Nine breaking his ex’s arm makes him... horny? Seems to weird.
“Additionally, I promised you that I would not harm him under any circumstances, no matter what. I wasn't about to break that promise — unless he had turned on you. Then I would have made an exception.”
Gavin, once again, ignores the blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, but I didn't mean to that extent. He coulda really hurt you, Nine.”
“I don't feel pain. I was not overly concerned.”
“Nine, you were fuckin' bleeding.”
“And I'm fine.” Nine states with certainty, one of the hands in his lap unfolding and settling on Gavin's knee. “Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. I promise you, I wasn't harmed in any way.”
Gavin hesitates, “You sure? No... dislodged wires or anythin'?”
Nine's eyes gloss over momentarily and he blinks in time with his LED, running a diagnostic. Gavin has seen him do it enough times by now to recognize it. “All systems fully operational. I'm fine.”
A smile finally settles on Gavin's mouth, more assured now. Half of the tension in his shoulders disappears and Gavin realizes most of his stress had been caused by worry for Nine's wellbeing — and now that was gone, it left only one other thing. Nine must sense the exact moment the thought clicks in Gavin's mind because his hand tightens on Gavin's knee and his LED flickers briefly.
Gavin's gaze flicks between the two movements, settles on the hand on his knee, using that as his focal point. “What you said... to Ryan. About me.”
Nine blinks once, not responding to Gavin's question. It takes him a second to realize he hasn’t actually asked him anything yet.
“Did you—” Gavin tongues his bottom lip when it becomes unexpectedly dry, “Did you mean that? What you said?”
Nine's fingers shift on Gavin's knee minutely, so faintly that he almost misses it. His eyes remain fixed on him, though, as he says, “Yes.”
“But... how?” Gavin manages, the question sounding just as stupid out loud as it had inside his head. No, actually, Gavin decides — it sounded worse. “How can you know that? How can you mean that? We've barely even kissed twice. You don't just fall in love after two kisses.”
“Perhaps not,” Nine muses, sounding far too fucking casual for this sort of conversation, “though I wouldn't know. This is not a recent emotion for me, and certainly did not transpire just because of our kiss.”
“Not in the slightest. I've been experiencing this for just over a month now.” Nine admits carelessly, “At first I didn't understand it, having never felt it before. I simply thought it meant I enjoyed spending time with you — but it became excessive to the point where I could hardly go a day without having you on my mind. It was rather infuriating, actually.”
Gavin's staring at Nine in disbelief. He can see his mouth moving and hear the words coming from his lips, but he still refuses to believe it.
“Then I found myself wanting your company whenever you were otherwise occupied and feeling either extreme disappointment if I could not see you, or an embarrassingly high level of exuberance if I could. There were several points when I assumed my systems were malfunctioning, but I ran hundreds of diagnostics and found nothing. It was almost as confusing as my first month as a Deviant. I had to resort to research to try and determine the cause.”
“What kinda research?”
“Films and television programmes, mostly. Some videos on the internet. A few of them were a little far-fetched, but they served their purpose. I got a brief idea of what emotion I was experiencing after the third or fourth movie.”
Gavin snorts. He can't help it. He tries to imagine a scenario where Nine sits in his living room with his eyes glued on the television, watching chick flicks to try and understand what love is. He can't picture it.
He pushes the amusement away long enough to focus again, “Why didn't you say anythin'?”
“I didn't want to act until I was a hundred percent certain on what I was feeling, and even then I was hesitant due to your... personal affairs. It wasn't long after that I found out about Ryan, and I certainly was not going to tell you then, knowing that you were in a relationship. So I intended to keep it to myself.” Nine's shoulders shift lazily, “Perhaps that didn't turn out as I expected, but here we are.”
He spreads his hands in front of him, a little dramatically as if signaling the end of a grand tale.
Gavin's not sure how long he gawps at him, but it's an embarrassing amount of time. Any English he once knew has disappeared from his mind and all he can think to do is stare — stare until this dream eventually fades away. Dream. Yeah. That's what this is. There's no other possible explanation.
“You seem confused,” Nine observes after the gaping becomes a little too uncomfortable. “Have I said something confusing?”
Has he said— “Well, yeah? Maybe a few fuckin' things.” Gavin wonders why his immediate reaction is anger, but then remembers his immediate reaction to any scenario is anger. “How the fuck can you be in love with me?”
Brows knit together on Nine's face, a minuscule thing, but undoubtedly there. “I don't understand?”
“Nine, have you seen me?” Gavin scoffs, “I'm thirty-six and barely even able to afford my own house. I've been strugglin' to get by ever since I got outta high school with my four fucking C grades and I ain't had a promotion in three years. I smoke, I drink, I do everythin' that makes me the complete opposite of you. Everythin' that makes me a fucking failure.”
He scrambles for a breath, hurt by his own words somehow. He's always felt like a failure. He's just never said it out loud.
“I'm the worst possible person you could fall in love with. There are so many better people you could have. People you could love.” Gavin doesn't want him to love anyone else, but he pushes the words out anyway. “I don't deserve any of that, I don't deserve you. You shouldn't love me, Nine.”
Gavin lowers his hands slowly back to his whining cat after realizing he had been waving them around like a madman through the entirety of his speech, emphasizing just how fucked up he was with animated hand gestures. But it falls on deaf ears.
Nine looks back at him with an expression containing even more confusion than it had been previously. The creases in his forehead have deepened and his temple whirrs that unreadable yellow color that Gavin resents.
“I don't think that's your choice to make.” Nine says, rather unexpectedly and far too calmly considering how much Gavin's head is spinning. “I decide what I feel, and who towards. I even have the right to do so now. If you do not reciprocate the feelings for me — then that's fine. However, that will not stop me from loving you.”
Gavin's going to pass out. He's sure of it. The warmth in his chest suffocates him and he can feel his heart pounding in his head, overwhelmed by Nine's words and Nine's eyes and just him.
“I've witnessed your insecurities first hand. I know what you perceive your flaws to be. I've experienced three months of the crash course on Gavin Reed, and I am still here.” Nine's body is fully orientated towards him now, his hand is warm where it rests on Gavin's knee. “Everything that you have just said about yourself are your own perceptions; facts you have concluded in your head after a lifetime of not being loved how you deserve to be.”
Gavin chokes on a noise, but Nine silences him.
“I'm not finished. Wealth does not affect my view of you, I have no need or care for money and thus renders your point idle. I know for a fact your grades in high school were due to the fact you were too busy trying to look after your family by balancing three jobs on the side as well as taking responsibility of your brother, and they do not by any means define your intelligence - which is far more superior than you give yourself credit for.
“Alcohol and cigarettes are a typical human habit, and you have every right to indulge in them considering the grave treatment you have received over the years. You should realize how little that fact affects me considering I once too spent large portions of my time indulging in similar coping methods in order to survive — I understand.”
The hand on Gavin's knee moves to cup his face now, and he's certain Nine can feel the warmth of the skin against his palm.
“And finally, Gavin, I could not care less about how many other humans and androids there are in this world. You are the one I want, and nothing you say will change that.”
Gavin's heart flips in his chest. Honest to God, actually flips. He's read about that in books before and not had one fucking clue what it meant, but he understood now. He wondered if this conversation was making Nine's heart do anything unusual, but by the flicker of his LED, he got an educated guess.
There's nothing Gavin can be except grateful, grateful and so in over his fucking head. He leans into Nine's palm and smiles against synthetic skin, feeling happier than he has in months. Years. No — he's never been this happy. Not ever.
“You smooth fucker. I hate you.” Gavin mumbles against his hand because that's the closest he can get to love. “I guess you're not too bad yourself.”
Nine huffs around a chuckle, and it's the closest thing to an actual laugh he's ever done, “I'm flattered.”
They smile in synchronization, making eye contact that neither of them want to break, content at the moment with Nine's hand on his face and Luci curled up between the two of them, her soft purring the only thing breaking the silence in the room.
The rest of the world slips away, if only for a minute.
“I mean it, though,” Gavin finally plucks up the courage to say, despite the fact he breaks eye contact and fiddles with a loose thread on the hem of Nine's turtleneck. It makes him smile, to finally see an imperfection on his get up. He wonders how Nine will react when he sees one of his beloved jumpers has fallen prey to a dangling seam. “I can't say... that, not yet. But I do care about you.”
“It's alright. You don't have to explain.”
“But I do. You do all this shit for me all the time, you always put me first and look after me and I can't even say—” Gavin cuts himself off. It hurts that he can't say it, it probably hurts Nine too. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head onto Nine's shoulder in defeat. “I'm sorry. You know I do, right?”
There's a hesitation. Gavin feels it and it makes him hurt more. “I know.”
The fingers that mess with the thread of Nine's jumper walk up until he can press his palm against Nine's chest, feeling the steady hum of the pump that lay beneath. It comforts Gavin in ways he can’t explain — hearing and feeling that strange hum of life. He turns his head and opens his eyes to look at the spot where his hand lay, fascinated by the vibrations he could feel.
Nine’s chin brushes the top of Gavin's head when he looks at him, “Who would have guessed you had such a soft side?” His voice is teasing, and Gavin presses his heated face back into his shoulder and gives his chest a light slap.
“Shut the fuck up. I'm not soft. You're just... interesting.”
“Interesting.” Nine mirrors, turning the word over curiously in his mouth. “I can't decipher if that is intended as a compliment or not.”
“Oh, trust me, it is.” Gavin lifts his head slowly, his nose brushing Nine's perfect jawline as he did. He smells cologne and wonders briefly why the fuck Nine's wearing it, but then realizes it's his own moments later. They're so close he can't even tell anymore. “You know what else you are?”
Gavin grins widely as he says, “A massive pain in my ass,” and closes the space between them finally to press his lips against soft, synthetic ones. Fuck sadness, fuck anxiety. Nine's here by his side and that's all Gavin needs. Everything else can fuck off for a little while.
Nine's complaint about being insulted is lost in the kiss that Gavin captures his mouth with, but Nine doesn’t seem to mind because he doesn’t even miss a beat in returning it. The hand that had been originally resting on Gavin's face now makes it's way up into his hair, and long fingers drag through Gavin's — unshowered and embarrassingly greasy — locks to keep him in place.
His body orientates into it on automatic, the palm pressed against Nine's chest registering the change in the pattern of his pump beneath his skin. Weird, that contact like this would affect an android so much, but intriguing too. Gavin wonders how much more intense it would feel if the thick material of the turtleneck weren't in the way; if Gavin's hand was actually pressed against Nine's skin.
He had always been curious about what Nine's body would look like; what it would feel like. He'd thought about it long before he realized he had an attraction for the guy — it had just been genuine curiosity at the time. But now, Gavin has the chance to actually find out.
The hand shifts until his fingers feel that loose thread of fabric again, and somewhere in his mind — through the daze of having Nine's lips on his own — he remembers the seam had unraveled at the hem of his jumper, meaning Gavin could shift his fingers and be touching Nine's skin in mere seconds. The rush of it makes Gavin dizzy.
He tries to concentrate, which becomes surprisingly difficult when Nine's tongue suddenly presses into his mouth and slicks against his own, but Gavin manages somehow to slip his thumb under the hem and pull it away enough for his hand to slide upwards. He feels soft, refined skin, with the faintest traces of muscle.
A noise tumbles out of his mouth that he isn't proud of, but he can't help it, and he certainly does not apologize — especially not when he feels Nine shudder at his touch. His palm presses back against Nine's chest, no material between the skin this time and, just as he imagined, the hum of Nine's heart feels stronger and more present. It tingles his skin and makes his hairs stand on end.
Alright, maybe he does have a soft side. Whatever.
Nine's weight leans into him to press into his touch and Gavin has to move back against the couch to accommodate for the shift, somehow still managing to find oxygen even though their intense kiss hadn't broken once yet. Slender fingers curl in his hair and brush against the base of his neck, making Gavin gasp unwillingly, so he skirts his thumb over one of Nine's nipples in retaliation.
The android shudders again, though it's more of a jolt this time. Gavin can't remember ever getting a reaction like this from just a few light brushes and marvels at how sensitive Nine appears to be, tracing his index fingers down the skin experimentally and smiling with satisfaction when Nine's back arches into it. Fuck yes.
Gavin suddenly has an urge to tear off his shirt, to see more of that skin and find out just how truly sensitive—
They pull back from the kiss in surprise, both staring at each other accusingly to see who had made the noise and why. Gavin's about to ask why the fuck Nine is hissing at him but before he can, he hears the same noise again from his stomach.
Luci scrambles out from between the two of them, jumping down onto the ground with a low whine, clearly annoyed that she had just nearly been crushed to death. She looks up at them both and Gavin swears she's glaring.
“Fuckin' drama queen.” Gavin mutters, rolling his eyes as Luci saunters off again to find somewhere else to sit where she won't be squished. He can't help but laugh though, it only added to the ridiculousness of the situation. It is nothing, however, compared to the ridiculous expression on Nine's face.
LED flashing between a mix of all three colors, Nine stares down at the space where Luci had emerged from moments before with a mixture of surprise and confusion. His eyes are comically large and his lips are parted slightly, still a little wet from their kissing. Gavin laughs because he looks... cute.
Yup. Cyberlife's most advanced model, designed for interrogation and investigation, capable of incapacitating anyone in mere seconds without so much as batting an eyelid, looks cute. Gavin wonders if he's seeing things.
The look on Nine's face fades as he lifts his head to try and see what Gavin is laughing at, the expression now replaced with a frown, “What?”
Gavin shakes his head, fonder than he can ever remember being as he reaches out and tugs on the turtleneck of Nine's jumper, “Nothin'. Just c'mere.” He encourages, and Nine responds to the tugging by following him down onto the couch, leaning over him once again until he had to brace his hands either side of Gavin's head to support himself.
Their lips brush but they don't kiss; they simply revel in the closeness, the contact. Gavin's body feels warm. “Probably ain't the best place to do this, huh?”
This? What even is this? Gavin doesn’t know. Doesn’t know what direction this is going in. He'd kissed Nine because he wanted to kiss him, as simple as that, but before he could stop himself he had been sliding his hands all over his body and practically groping him. His lack of self-control is downright embarrassing.
“And what do you want this to be, Gavin?” Nine asks, his voice low and their lips continuing to brush as they speak.
Gavin tries to think of an answer for him, but nothing seems to come together in his mind. This day is awfully confusing. “I want... I want this. I want you.”
“Are you certain? I want you to think about this before you force yourself into it.”
Gavin thinks. He thinks about the way Nine's skin feels against his palm, how it would feel to have the rest of his body pressed against him. With the thought comes that urge again — the urge to knot his fingers into the material of Nine's jumper and tear it from his body. The urge to see what else lay beneath all that dark clothing. Gavin doesn't need to think anymore.
“I'm sure.” Gavin nods with confidence. Nine will look after him — he always does. There is nothing to worry about.
There's a beat in which Nine watches him, his LED spinning. Gavin wonders what emotion he's experiencing right now, but then he opens his mouth and says — “We are talking about sex, correct?” — and Gavin realizes it's confusion, “Or have I misread the situation?”
Gavin snorts, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, “Wow. Way to be subtle about it, Nine. Jesus.”
“My apologies,” Nine frowns, “I am not very experienced in these matters.”
A single brow arches on Gavin's face, his interest piquing, “You ain't done this before?” He asks, but then another thought cannonballs into his head before he can get his answer. “Oh my god, can you even do this?”
There is a sudden, horrible realization that Gavin actually knows very little about android anatomy. No, screw that — he knows fuck all about android anatomy. He doesn't know what they can and can't do. Hell, he doesn't even know if Nine has anything down there.
He — probably — should have done some fucking research, but it was too late now.
“Your brother was very particular that we were designed in the utmost likeness of humans, that we could replicate them in every single possible way. I was modeled on a human male and so I possess a functioning set of male genitalia.”
Gavin's never heard the word genitalia used in this scenario before, and now he knows why. Also — “Weird fuckin' time to remind me my brother designed you, Nine.” He pulls a face because now he is kinda weirded out. He's been snogging the face off of his sibling’s science project. “Fuck’s sake. Always knew Eli was a perv. Course he gave you a dick.”
“If it helps, he didn't design it himself.” Nine offers, unhelpfully.
Gavin sighs, exasperated, pressing fingers into his eyes, “I guess that makes it a little less creepy.”
“Perhaps we should move on.”
Gavin lowers his hand from his face, sees the small smirk that creeps across Nine's lips as he settles in the hilarity of the conversation. Gavin can only preserve his stubbornness for a second before he, too, cracks — laughing brightly and open-mouthed, unable to help himself.
He presses the hand that isn't on Nine's skin into his sternum to try and quell his chuckles, still grinning as he opens his eyes again and looks back up at Nine — who smiles down at him now, soft and fond, catching Gavin by surprise. Gavin stops laughing.
“You're extraordinarily beautiful when you laugh like that.”
Gavin pulls a face. He doesn't feel beautiful. He barely even qualifies for attractive. “Shut the fuck up.”
“It's the truth,” Nine insists and leans down again to his lips to shut Gavin up instead. “I enjoy seeing you so exuberant. Your smile and laugh are positively radiant, I want to make an effort to see them more often.”
Gavin rolls his eyes again, but the blush on his cheek burns and betrays him. He ignores how much he's enjoying being appreciated, how much he wants Nine to keep that promise, and clutches at his clothes instead to distract himself. “I said, shut up and kiss me you sappy fuck—”
Nine does, in fact, shut up this time. He kisses him too, which is a bonus in itself. He presses their lips together with singular purpose, not giving Gavin any time to finish his remark or try and come up with a better one.
Gavin doesn't care. How could he when Nine is pressing against him so firmly — so carefully. It's as if he's making up for all the comfort and reassurance Gavin has missed out on throughout his life, promising he will provide him with as much of it as he needs in this single kiss. It's everything Gavin's never had, and everything he wants to keep forever.
He remembers the hand that is still pressed against the skin beneath Nine's jumper, and as soon as he realizes he slips his other hand up to join it, running both palms over firm pectorals and defined muscles.
Nine's body arches with every touch and he fucking whimpers as if he can't get enough of it, and honestly, Gavin can't either. He trails his fingers onto his back and feels firm shoulder blades, then traces them down his spine and to his waist where he feels fucking v-line hipbones. Gavin groans obscenely.
“Alright, this—” Gavin tugs on the turtleneck restlessly, kissing the corner of Nine's lips so he could speak, “—phck. This needs to come off. Right now.”
He hears Nine chuckle, low and amused, feels the rumble of it in his chest. “Patience is a vir—”
Gavin hasn't got time to listen to Nine wax lyrical quotes and phrases in his ear, his desire is needy and demands immediate attention. He pushes the material up Nine's body as his arms raise helpfully, and Gavin finally slides it off of him and tosses it somewhere on the floor.
Gavin gets instantly caught up by all that synthetic flesh in front of him. Just as smooth and muscled as it had felt. His chest rises and falls steadily in time with his simulated breaths and all Gavin can do is stare, again. He is doing a damn lot of staring tonight.
Something small and colored catches Gavin's eye on Nine's stomach, and he lifts his thumb to brush over the tiny spots he could see there. Tiny moles, dotted over his sternum and chest. Gavin knows there are a couple on his face, he had been just as intrigued by them too but he had first noticed them — because although Nine was otherwise perfect, he still has these tiny little imperfections across his body.
No, not imperfections. There’s nothing wrong with them. They only make him that much more gorgeous.
Gavin spends an embarrassing amount of time skirting his fingers across every single one of them he can see, and half wonders if it’s making Nine uncomfortable. He chances a glance up at the Android above him and definitely does not see discomfort on his face. In fact, the closed-eyed, open-mouthed expression resembles a look of gratification.
His thumb brushes over another mole located on his collarbone and his whole body jolts, almost mechanically. “Jesus, Nine,” Gavin exclaims, withdrawing his hand, “you alright?”
Nine's eyes open again and Gavin spots the glossed over look to them. He's processing, or... something. The look remains whilst he speaks, “Apologies. My body is not used to such extreme levels of physical contact. My systems are becoming somewhat disorganized.”
“Do you need to stop? Are you gonna short circuit or somethin'?”
The comment is intended as a joke, but the thoughtful look Nine responds with makes Gavin think maybe he actually could short circuit. Holy shit. “I don't think so. I will just have to keep an eye on everything. We can continue.”
“Nine, are you—”
“I'm positive.” Nine responds, something hungry about his tone, and Gavin feels it too when his head suddenly ducks again and he presses his lips to Gavin's pulse. Gavin lets out a startled noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and his hands settle on Nine's back again to press him closer.
Gavin's so glad he chose today to wear a slightly v-necked t-shirt because Nine can kiss his collarbones too. He pays particular attention to them, actually, and Gavin almost blacks out when his tongue dips into the curve of one and licks a warm stripe back up to his neck. From this series of events, he gathers two pieces of information; Nine likes Gavin's neck and Gavin fucking loves Nine's tongue.
Nine's fingers find the hem of the t-shirt and fiddle with it, a silent question. Gavin's too engrossed in the kisses on his neck to comprehend it, so Nine vocalizes it instead. “May I remove this?”
Gavin hesitates, closes his eyes to think about it. It surprises him that the question doesn't scare him as much as he thought it would, that his anxiety hasn't exploded in his chest just at the notion. Maybe if he thinks about it for too long, it will, but Gavin does not want that to happen. He wants their bodies pressed together.
He trusts Nine, completely and wholeheartedly.
Instead of answering, Gavin pushes himself back into a sitting position and raises his arms, allowing Nine to slide the t-shirt up and off, leaving his upper body bare in the dim light of the room.
Once it's gone the anxiety disappears, and all Gavin can see instead is Nine's expression that fixes on him so intently, eyes scanning over every inch of his skin as he flops back onto the couch. There are a lot of scars on Gavin's body, results from years on the force getting shot or stabbed at, from his dickhead ex, from himself. They aren't attractive, not in the slightest — but no one seems to have told Nine this.
Nine gawps down at them like they're the prettiest things he's ever seen, lifting his hand and tracing his fingers along them, making Gavin's body shudder in response. “Exquisite.”
Gavin snorts at the android's vocabulary. He's definitely never been called that before. “You need get your eyes fixed.” He jokes, slapping away the hand that traced his body, playfully, because he knew Nine was just being polite. He had to be. There was no way he actually found any of this appealing.
But that didn't explain why Nine suddenly bowed his head and sealed his mouth over the bruising that tinted Gavin's stomach instead, kissing it affectionately and then trailing his lips along the rest of Gavin's scars, spending an allocated amount of time kissing over each and every one.
It made Gavin feel unexpectedly cherished, made him think that maybe Nine wasn't just being polite — maybe he really did like the scars that dotted Gavin's body. The intensity of their task was lost in the ten solid minutes Nine spent exploring every slice and knick, and for the first time in months, Gavin couldn't feel any tension in his shoulders.
By the time Nine is finished, Gavin's hand has tangled into his hair and his head has fallen back against the arm of the couch, basking in the bliss Nine was providing him. He felt the kisses creep back up his body and puckered his lips expectantly, but instead, Nine's mouth landed on his cheek.
“Was that too much?” Nine checked, and Gavin felt his lips curl into a smile when he shook his head.
“No. No, it was... I'm fine.”
“In that case, I would like to take you to bed now. Is that alright?”
“Take me to bed?” Gavin mirrored with a snort, though it lacked the sarcasm he wanted to. His mind was too scrambled to conjure it. “What're you gonna do? Carry me?”
Nine blinked down at him, his LED momentarily filtering into yellow, unphased by the question. “If you want me to, then of course.”
Gavin deadpanned, “Your jokin'.”
“Not in the slightest. I actually have entertained the idea many times in the past.” His fingers run through the stubble on Gavin's chin, and Gavin couldn't decide what was distracting him more — the feeling of his skin or the confession of I have entertained the idea in the past. Many times. Nine catches his look and frowns, “Is that inappropriate of me to confess?”
“What? No—” Gavin shakes his head rapidly, “God, no. It's not. Course it's fuckin' not. Completely the opposite.”
Gavin hesitates, his curiosity getting the better of him as he decides to pry further by asking, “You thought about anythin' else?”
Nine considers the question thoughtfully, and just the fact that he's thinking about it is enough to make Gavin feel exhilarated. “I've imagined many similar scenarios such as this taking place. One that transpires at the station, where I have pictured myself taking you into one of the interrogation rooms and pressing you against a wall. That one is a little far-fetched, however, since there are cameras in that room. It would be highly unprofessional of us.”
Nine sighs as if disappointed, as if he hadn't just unveiled one of his sexual fantasies to Gavin — who was, for lack of better-sophisticated terminology, hard as hell right now. Screw unprofessional. “Then there's the one that takes place inside your car.”
“That one,” Gavin whines, unintelligibly, “I wanna know about that one.”
Why? Well, because Gavin has imagined that particular scenario himself only about a hundred times in the past. He'd imagined it in his bed at home. In the shower. He'd even imagined it when Nine had been sat right beside him, eyes focused on the road and oblivious to Gavin's precarious daydreams.
Nine momentarily looks surprised by the request, but Gavin swears he spots a hint of eagerness behind his eyes too, a hint of hunger. He clears his throat dramatically, “It's all very similar to this, except we're in the car and... I have you on my knees,” Nine's eyes go dark at the thought, as if it was enough to get him off in itself, “and it's much more disorganized and very cramped. But highly enjoyable.”
Gavin only focuses on one thing during Nine's explanation, he focuses solely on the lustful gloss over his eyes, that dark expression that Gavin wanted to see again desperately. So much so that he slips himself onto Nine's lap confidently, knees planting either side of his hips and arms wrapping around his neck, and is rewarded with a heavy groan from the android beneath him.
Strong hands brace on Gavin's lower back and Nine's head tilts forward on automatic so his lips can press against his pulse again like he couldn't help himself. The warmth runs straight down to Gavin's groin and he rolls his hips when he feels it — and then proceeds to make several lewd noises when he feels the growing persistence in Nine's trousers.
Curiosity peaks once again; wanting to know what Nine looked like beneath those tight jeans, what he would feel like in his hand. He wanted to know if Nine had wrapped his own hands around himself when imagining these scenarios — whilst imagining Gavin. The thought is intriguing and he can't stop himself from asking.
“Have you... Do you touch yourself when you think about it?” The question is drawn out slowly and Gavin wonders why he's so embarrassed — before remembering it's because he does it himself, and if Nine doesn't that's going to be a major let down.
Nine barely misses a beat in the kisses he places against Gavin's neck, though Gavin does feel the tell-tale sign of uncertainty when Nine's fingers shift minutely on his hips. And after a moment of silent consideration, he lifts his head to meet Gavin's gaze and says, “Yes.”
The confidence and pride he takes in it makes Gavin's breath dessert him, “Jesus.” He presses closer instinctively, knowing what he wants. “Bedroom. Now, please.”
“As you wish.”
Nine's hands move from his hips to the underside of his ass with speed, standing in one fluid movement whilst still keeping Gavin sat against his waist. Gavin bites back a gasp that threatens to escape him and clutches onto Nine's shoulders tightly, but the way he moves them so effortlessly assures Gavin he's not going to be dropped.
He tries to ignore how much Nine's impressive strength turns him on — knowing he could probably pin him against a wall and hold down his wrists with ease. But that's not what he wants today. Though, it's definitely something to explore in the future.
“How're you doin' this so fuckin' easy?”
“I'm a machine. I was designed to be strong.” Nine shrugs, looking up into Gavin's eyes as he responds, not even needing to look where he was going. Fuck. “That, and, you're surprisingly lightweight.”
Gavin scowls, “You sayin' you expected different?” He doesn't hesitate to dig one of his feet into the small of Nine's back in a playful reprimand. “Asshole.”
“Not at all. I'm merely stating that it helps.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck you.”
“Speaking of which,” Nine begins to say, as he deposits Gavin down onto the bed halfway between his words — when had they gotten to the bedroom? “Which position would you feel more comfortable with? I, personally, would very much enjoy being able to fuck you, but I certainly won't complain if you would rather be on top.”
Gavin blinks, gawping up at Nine from his flopped position on the bed, eyes wide with genuine surprise. The choice has never been offered to him before because it's never mattered what Gavin wanted. A “top or bottom?” question has never been so flattering.
He must have been processing the question for quite some time because a worried expression flashes across Nine's face and he pries for an answer again, “Gavin?”
“Uh,” Gavin responds, helpfully, “I'm usually... usually a bottom.”
“I didn't ask what you usually are,” Nine reiterates, firmly, and Gavin's foggy mind becomes aware that Nine is removing his belt, “I asked what you would prefer to be. It's your decision.”
The consideration in his tone flaws Gavin, and it takes him a minute to think about it. On one hand, he wants to make Nine feel good — wants to make his first time memorable and let him experience everything. He wants to fuck him so hard that his system short-circuits, just to see what that’s like — to see that smug expression be replaced with mind-numbing pleasure that Gavin will know he is responsible for.
On the other, selfish hand, Gavin can't stop staring at the sneak peek of Nine's lump where he removes his belt, and he becomes unexpectedly desperate to have whatever lies under there inside of him.
This one time, he wants to be selfish.
“Bottom.” Gavin confirms with an enthusiastic nod of his head, “Definitely bottom.”
“Very well.” Nine smiles and Gavin braces himself for Nine to join him on the bed — to completely devour him. But actually, nothing happens and Nine doesn't move, instead, he lets his eyes gloss over and his LED simmers into that yellow shade.
Gavin fidgets impatiently on the bed, and lets concern seep into his tone as he asks, “Nine? You ran outta batteries or somethin'?”
“Apologies. I'm just conducting some quick research. I won't be long.”
“Research? On what?”
Nine snaps out of his trance momentarily to look down at him, his brows furrowing as if the answer was completely obvious. “Foreplay.”
Gavin snorts softly, taken aback, “What?”
“I told you, I don't have any experience in these matters. I don't even have a database on human copulation. I need to know what to do in order to satisfy you properly.”
“So what? You're gonna just stand there and... watch porn, or somethin'?” Nine shrugs his shoulders as if considering it, and Gavin doesn't know whether to laugh or hit him. “Nine, don't be fuckin' ridiculous. Just c'mere.”
“Gavin, I want to be able to—”
“Yeah, yeah. Get on the bed.” Gavin scrambles upward and grabs Nine by his arms to pull him down. He places a searing kiss on his lips for a few seconds, before he switches their positions so Nine is sat on the bed and Gavin is standing between his legs.
Nine watches him intently, the way one might when they've just caught first glance of a spider on the wall, his LED spinning as Gavin gets onto his knees in front of him and begins tugging at his trousers. The fact they were no longer buttoned up and that Nine lifts his hips helps make it a little easier, but that doesn't change the fact they're still ridiculously tight.
“Fucks sake, Nine,” Gavin mutters in frustration after the fourth tug proves just as unuseful, “you can't just wear sweats?”
“Absolutely not.” Nine scowls, offended by the idea. “Attire such as that has no worth to me whatsoever. Besides, these trousers were expensive, I intend to get the full use out of them and make them worth the money.”
“You wear them every day, how much more use can you—”
He cuts off because the trousers finally peel off his body and reveal his bare legs. Pale synthetic skin covering strong calves and thighs, and Gavin notices about five more moles dotted across different parts of the area. Even his legs were perfect, the fuck.
“Satisfied?” Nine inquires sarcastically and Gavin shoots him a look.
“You'd better stop the attitude, else I won't be doin' anythin'.” It's a bold-faced lie — Nine could spit every witty comeback under the sun right now and Gavin would still put his head between his thighs and blow him dry. But he says it because he can tell Nine is getting frustrated, and that's exactly the reaction he's been looking for.
He gazes down at the lump in Nine's boxers and feels his mouth instantly go dry — because Nine looked big before, but now it was indefinite. Gavin doesn't fail to miss the twitch of anticipation in Nine's leg, and it only makes him that much more smug, knowing Nine's aching for this just as much as he is.
The complacent, shitty side of Gavin wants to tease the fuck out of him for it.
However, first he needs to address the fact that Nine is still looking largely conflicted — there's no expression on his face to say so, but his LED is spinning out of control and, this time, it's not because he's considering watching porn. Or, at least, Gavin hopes it isn't.
“You good? Still wanna do this?” Gavin checks, ghosting a hand over Nine's thigh assuringly, feeling his leg press into the touch as it ran down his skin.
Nine's LED spins around a few more times before he nods with certainty, “Yes, I do. Do you?”
Gavin smiles when the question is mirrored back to him, already feeling the heavy anxiety in his chest disappear at Nine's words, that security more prominent than anything Gavin's ever felt. “Yeah. We can just... take it slow.”
“And stop if either of us feels uncomfortable.”
Gavin nods, feeling better already and ridiculously content — so much so that he leans up on his knees and presses another kiss to Nine's mouth. The android responds to it easily, a hand coming up to cradle the side of his face as they kissed — soft and gentle and loving.
It lasts for a solid couple of minutes, and they forget what they were supposed to be doing, only interested in letting each other know they were in safe hands. That nothing is going to hurt them, and nothing is going to come between them.
Gavin decides, if he could say it, he would tell Nine he loved him right now.
The intensity returns when Gavin presses his tongue into Nine's mouth and slides his hands back down his chest. Gavin notes how weird Nine tastes, in the sense that he doesn't taste like anything. He could wager Nine was currently analyzing scotch and traces of smoke from Gavin's earlier cigarette from within his own mouth, and yet Gavin can't find a thing. It's odd, but definitely not a problem.
Deciding to give Nine a taste of his own medicine, Gavin pulls his lips away and trails them down his neck instead — kissing over the areas where Nine's pulse and Adam's apple should have been. Nine squirms beautifully in response, his head tilting to the side to allow Gavin more access to the soft skin that Gavin never usually gets a chance to even look at — let alone kiss.
He can't understand why Nine would ever cover himself up so much when something so beautiful lurked beneath.
The hand Gavin slips down Nine's body finally locates the hem of his boxers, which he runs a finger along teasingly. Nine's hips twitch and make Gavin's smirk widen — marveling at how sensitive he is before he's even gotten to the main attraction.
A sad thought interrupts the heated moment when Gavin discerns that Nine has probably never been touched before, not with this degree of attention at least. Brief moments of contact have been exchanged between the two of them in the past, but that had all been done over layers of thick clothing. It's no wonder Nine is so sensitive.
Is that why he covers himself up so much, to protect his vulnerability? Gavin doesn't dwell on it too long, it doesn't seem like a topic of conversation for foreplay. He can ask later.
Pushing it aside, Gavin presses his palm into the lump of Nine's boxers and gasps into his neck when he feels it. Nine's teeth grit, the second time Gavin has seen him do so, to hold back his own moan of pleasure. Gavin isn't satisfied enough with that, so he ducks his head away from Nine's neck suddenly to put his mouth on him through the fabric of his underwear.
Nine lets out a small, aborted noise that he can't hold back, and Gavin's smirk returns. He tongues him through the material, wetting it and feeling Nine's cock grow that last little bit into a full erection, and Gavin flushes and tries to pretend he hasn't been fully hard since Nine had started kissing his neck on the couch.
Looking up to try and see Nine's expression, Gavin notices his head has tilted back once again and instantly becomes annoyed that he can no longer see his face. So, he withdraws his mouth for long enough to hook his thumbs into his boxers and pull them down his legs.
That last layer falls away much easier than the goddamn trousers had, and Gavin struggles to maintain his composure when his eyes land on the heavenly sight between Nine's thighs.
His cock is hard and flushed... blue. Gavin hadn't even thought about that, but it made sense - it's the same color he had seen his cheeks turn when they had kissed on the bed the last time. He should have expected it, really, and maybe it should have put him off. Except, it didn't.
In actuality, it made Gavin unexpectedly hornier, which was a miracle in itself considering that he already felt more turned on than he ever had before.
He notices Nine's head come forward to look at him after several seconds pass and he hasn't done anything apart from gape at him, but Gavin still doesn't bother to move. “Did you remove my trousers simply for the purpose of staring?”
Gavin scowls at the question, shooting a glare up at him, “No.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you don't seem to be doing anyth— Oh.”
The sound of Nine being cut off as he licks a confident stripe from the base of Nine's length to the head makes Gavin smile, silencing him and making his words turn into gasps as he circles the top with his tongue. The urge to make a smug comment has never been more prominent, but honestly, Gavin just wants to put his mouth around him and if they delay any longer he's one hundred percent sure he will actually, physically die.
He wraps a hand around the base of him whilst he works his tongue over the head, steadying himself by bracing on one of Nine's spread thighs. The sound of sheets being gripped in a fist makes Gavin smile, and he can't help but be proud of himself.
Adjusting his hand, he licks another easy stripe up the shaft and notices it really is easy. He had been expecting the usual salty taste but — rather similar to his mouth — Nine's cock had no taste whatsoever. Gavin couldn't find a complaint about that.
When his tongue reaches the head again, Gavin takes that opportunity to fix his lips around him and take his cock into his mouth.
Nine's hips jerk in response and the light grip he holds the sheets with tightens, whilst his other hand shifts with hesitation briefly, before reaching and tangling into Gavin's hair with confidence. Gavin doesn't mind that, in fact, he likes it. Even if he didn't have Nine's cock in his mouth, he wouldn't complain.
He can't take Nine all the way, no fucking chance, so he uses his hand to help, lips meeting his fingers where they wrap around the warm skin. And it really is warm. It makes Gavin's mind foggy, all that heat in his mouth, but he's definitely enjoying it. Maybe even more than Nine is.
Nevermind. Nine seems quite satisfied with the situation. He hears Nine let out a string of gasps and moans and feels his leg twitch where Gavin holds it down. It's gratifying to see him like this, so preoccupied when he's usually all focus and control and professionalism.
His face is free from his usual fixed frown and replaced instead with a relaxed, blissful expression that keeps his LED blue and his lips parted — makes his eyes fly open momentarily when Gavin sucks on the upstroke.
Gavin finds a steady rhythm that feels comfortable for him but obviously pleasurable for Nine and keeps it up with the use of both his hand and mouth, working both movements in synchronization. Nine's hand tightens in Gavin's hair, his fingertips shifting against his scalp and following the up and down of his head.
That is a good sign, for Gavin. It meant the pace was right, and Nine wasn't offering any complaints that would suggest differently.
He curled his tongue around the head on one of the upstrokes and felt Nine's legs tremble beneath him, wondering if he was close — it certainly seemed like it. Then Gavin had to pull off for a moment when his mind cleared of haze enough to remind him of something important, something he needed to know.
“Can you come?” He asked, surprised at the hoarseness of his own tone, continuing to move his hand along Nine's cock whilst his mouth was otherwise occupied. Nine's eyes blink open slowly when his head lifts, and it takes him a second to process what Gavin had asked.
“Y-Yes.” Nine fucking stutters, “I possess that feature. I shouldn't have a problem with cooldown, either.”
Gavin licks his lips, the statement making his mouth dry with excitement. “So, you can have, like, multiple orgasms?”
“Mm.” Nine hums in response because apparently, he can't find words anymore. That's fine. More than fine. Gavin's very okay with that. Proud, actually.
“Fuck yes.” Gavin might be a little too enthusiastic, which he learns from the way he latches back onto Nine's cock without hesitation and takes him almost to the back of his throat, but he can't find a fuck to give — not know he knows that Nine can come without needing to worry about being able to do it again later.
Picking up the same pace as he had before with the combined effect that he was taking more of his cock now sends Nine spiralling — he lets out a choked cry as his fingers tighten in Gavin's hair once again and his hips lift in time with Gavin's movements, tilting him into a world where it was almost too much and he nearly gagged several times. But he held on because Nine was so close. He could feel it.
He felt it in the trembling of his legs, saw it in the convulsing of his chest, heard it in the way he moaned so freely and gasped, “Fuck,” about twenty times. Gavin's never recalled him swearing so much before, and that's a win in his book.
Then it happens, suddenly and unexpectedly. Nine's hand flexes and then pushes Gavin down, holding him still as he came hard into his mouth, strings of whatever the hell Nine's come was made of sliding down his throat. Nine shuddered and then fell back onto the bed.
His hand relinquished its firm grip on Gavin's hair and Gavin lets him slip from his mouth, swallowing hard and lifting a hand to wipe away the strands that he hadn't been able to keep in his mouth. There had been a lot.
When he stands he feels his own legs and hips shaking from how hard he is, from how close he is already just from this, and his face becomes warm with embarrassment. He brushes it aside though when he notices Nine hasn't moved from his position on the bed, and Gavin crawls over his body to make sure he's still switched on.
His eyes fix on a yellow LED that processes what just happened, and Nine's own opticals open slowly when he registers Gavin pressing against him again. His cheeks and neck are a lovely blue flush, and he smiles when he sees Gavin. Gavin marvels at the expression because he looks tired.
“Well,” Nine says, breathily, “that was an interesting experience.”
Gavin snorts softly, “Interesting? That's not what I was goin' for.”
“Believe me, Detective, whatever you were hoping to achieve — you achieved it.” Nine's eyes close again. He still hasn't moved his arms and Gavin absently wonders if he even can. “I highly enjoyed it.”
“But now,” Nine flips them over without warning, and Gavin gasps sharply. Yep, arms definitely working, “It's your turn. I understand what I'm doing now.”
Gavin settles his head back onto the soft pillows he can feel behind him, watching Nine tower above him with anticipation. He could probably get off the rest of the way just from how Nine looked at him now, dark and wanting. “I doubt it'll take much. I'm already pretty fuckin' close.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing, Detective.” Nine says, like he’d been wanting to savour the experience. Gavin fights back the moan in his throat. “Will you be able to repeat the experience more than once? I still want to fuck you.”
“I dunno. Probably.” Gavin shrugs his shoulders. He hasn't had two orgasms in one night in a long time, probably not since the first month or so of his and Ryan's relationship. But he can't deny his own frustration in this minute and honestly, he needs a release. Like, right now. “Guess we'll find out.”
Nine nods, wastes no more time, unzipping Gavin's trousers as soon as he's finished talking and yanking them down his legs. Gavin lifts his body to help make it easier and realizes that Nine had hooked his thumbs into the boxers too and pulled them away at the same time, finally allowing Gavin's erection to spring free.
He can't help but groan in relief, the tightness disappearing and replaced almost immediately by Nine's warm tongue which laves over the length of him without warning. Gavin's toes curl into the sheets of the bed and his head flies back against the pillows with enough force to render him dizzy, his already foggy mind blanking out completely before he has time to bite back the wrecked moan that tumbles past his lips.
Nine hums a noise of approval below him and Gavin can practically feel the smirk on his lips as he says, “I would very much like to hear those noises more often. Please refrain from holding them back.” Finishing the request by curling his tongue around the head of Gavin's cock, Gavin decides he has no willpower left to do any differently and lets his hips arch unceremoniously as he feels Nine's lips close around him.
Nine takes him all the way down to the base and Gavin feels his cock hit the back of his throat, moans that were already loud and ruined now increasing in volume and sending Gavin's mind into overdrive. Gavin would have been disappointed — disappointed that he couldn't do this for Nine, that he had only been able to take so much of him in his own mouth — but when Nine's head lifts again and he sucks, Gavin finds he can't remember how to feel anything other than mindnumbing pleasure.
“Oh my god, Nine—” Gavin chokes, unlike Nine who swallows up his entire cock without even flinching, “Please. Please please.”
Gavin doesn't know what exactly he's begging for, but Nine apparently does, because at Gavin's words his head starts moving up and down along Gavin's cock in a steady rhythm that makes heat flare around him. He bunches one hand into the blankets and fists his other into Nine's hair, clenching hard as Nine's tongue stilled briefly around the head and then engulfed him once again.
Gavin, determined to prove to himself that this isn't just a dream, manages to find enough resolution to lift his head and make sure Nine's mouth really is around his cock and— oh, fuck. Nine's eyes gaze right back at him, maintaining eye contact as he sinks his mouth around his cock and swirls his tongue, LED spinning yellow as he analyzes the taste of Gavin's pre-come that he had no doubt he was already leaking.
His mouth opens to say something, to make a sound, anything — but the sight of Nine's head bobbing between his thighs at the pace Gavin's hand demanded, his usually perfect hair messy and tangled between his fingers, and those eyes fixed on him with dark intention and attentivity is enough to steal sound from Gavin's throat. He forgets how to speak, forgets how to think, aware only of the searing, wet heat that envelopes him in the form of suction.
There's only one sound that comes to his mind at this moment; in the form of a name, an important name that he wants to scream from the top of his lungs, “Nine... Nine!”
It's embarrassing how fast Gavin comes. Or, at least, it should have been, but Gavin hasn't got the headspace to focus on it. The compelling warmth builds in the pit of his stomach until he almost can't take it anymore, and then it explodes inside of him. His hips thrust up and his fingers pull at Nine's hair warningly, but Nine stays exactly where he is, swallowing Gavin down as he comes — harder than he ever has before, he's certain.
Gavin feels his back press back against the bed and half wonders how far he had lifted off of it, his entire body tingling pleasantly as he slowly starts to settle again, though his mind is still in a million pieces. He feels his cock slip from the warmth of Nine's mouth and, just as he's about to lean down and pull Nine up for a kiss, Nine crawls back over him and plants one on his mouth anyway.
The taste of himself lingers on Nine's tongue, as he discovers when Nine pushes it into his mouth, and all he can do for a few seconds is moan in response. When Nine's body presses against him he is surprised to feel his erection already fully returned, and revels in the idea of Nine touching himself whilst he was working his mouth on Gavin's cock. Honestly, if he was a little younger, that thought alone would have been enough to make Gavin hard again.
Gavin finds the strength to return Nine's kisses again just as Nine pulls away, infuriatingly, “Are you too tired to continue?”
“Fuck no.” Gavin says, a little too quickly, “I can keep goin'. I can outlast you any day, tin can.”
Gavin cannot. He knows this, and Nine does too. However, though he is well and truly exhausted from the glorious blow job Nine has just provided him with, nothing is about to stop him from continuing with this. He's a stubborn guy, it's his most redeeming quality — and he is bloody determined to have Nine inside him before the night is out.
“I highly doubt that, though I would like to see you try.” Nine chuckles, “However, first I believe I am required to... loosen you up, is that the correct term?”
Gavin's eyes roll before he can stop himself, though he knows he's smirking. “Bravo, Nine. Good fuckin' job.” He teases and dies a little inside when Nine actually gushes with pride. How the fuck can someone be so cute and sexy at the same time? He's like a rare collector's item. “You got lube?”
The gush disappears and a frown appears instead on Nine's face, “No. Why would I have that?”
“Um, I dunno? Maybe so you can fuck me, smartass?”
“I didn't think this far ahead.”
“Are you kiddin' me?” Gavin sighs, either with dismay or frustration, he can't tell. “You think of every other fuckin' thing. You don't have anythin' at all?”
Nine thinks about it for longer than Gavin has patience for, and honestly, he can feel himself deflating as every second passes. If they can't do this, Gavin's going to be devastated. Blow jobs are good and all, but it's nothing compared to the real thing. Gavin really wants the real thing.
After a minute Nine shakes his head, and Gavin feels his heart drop before he even speaks, “I'm sorry, no. I don't have anything.”
“Fuck's sake,” Gavin hisses through his teeth, sounding just as disappointed as he felt. A part of him is tempted to just say fuck it and proceed anyway, but past experiences warn him about how much that fucking kills. It's not what Gavin wants right now. “If only we were doin' this at mine, I've got shit tons of the stuff just lyin' around the—”
Gavin stops talking as a thought comes to mind, and it's so sudden that Nine's LED actually spins with concern. “Gavin? Is something the matter?”
“Shit, no. I just thought—” He chews his bottom lip, hoping the hunch he just had was right. “When we were cleanin' out my stuff from the apartment, did you clear out my bedside drawer?”
“Yes, I did.” Nine says, “I wasn't a hundred percent certain what was and wasn't yours, so I believe I packed everything just in case. Why?”
“There was lube in it.”
“Ah, well then. I'll go look.” Nine's never moved so fast, Gavin's sure of it. He pushes himself from the bed and disappears out of the bedroom as fast as a shot. Gavin bites back a laugh because Nine's still stark naked and his windows aren't exactly small. Though he can't imagine Nine has much to be ashamed of people seeing.
Gavin sits up as another thought comes to his head, “Will you feed the cat as well before you come back?” — It's embarrassing to ask, but he knows that if they don't feed her the bitch will come strolling in halfway through their activity and dig her claws into them until she gets attention. Something like that might ruin the moment.
Nine offers a grunt in response from wherever he is in the house, the sound of bags opening rather frantically making Gavin smile. It's good to know he isn't the only one who is eager to carry on.
Taking a moment to himself, Gavin realizes he has probably just under two minutes to get himself hard again, and so he gets to work — imagining all the things Nine is about to do to him. Imagining Nine's long fingers sliding into him finally. Imagining that fucking cock inside of him.
47 seconds pass and Gavin's sporting a full erection.
Nine returns to the sight of Gavin stroking himself to hardness on the bed, and Gavin immediately panics because fuck no Nine does not want to see this — yet instead of horrified confusion taking over Nine's expression, his face morphs into something akin to desire and he bites down on his bottom lip sinfully. Gavin swallows a very harsh lump in his throat.
“You couldn't wait two minutes?” Nine smirks, like the smug bastard he is, and Gavin opens his mouth to bite back whatever witty comeback his mind can dig up — but then stops immediately when he spots the bottle of clear, viscous liquid in Nine's right hand.
His cock twitches, apprehensive. “You found some?”
“This appears to be what we're looking for, or so my scanners say.”
“And you fed Luci?”
“She is happily consuming her Orijen as we speak.”
“Cool.” Gavin nods, “Now get over here and fuck me.”
Nine obliges. He's on top of him again within seconds, lips colliding with his own and tongues slicking against one another. It occurs to Gavin that he probably didn't need to spend time getting himself hard again, that this would have done the trick just as well. But Gavin wouldn't have traded that look Nine gave him upon catching him for the world.
The sound of the cap being popped off the bottle echoes in Gavin's ear and Nine pulls himself up to coat his fingers in the liquid and then lets it pour down between Gavin's cheeks. It tickles and makes his body squirm, and Nine appears to relish in the sight of him like that on the bed — hard and fucking gagging for it.
“You're so pretty like this, Gavin.” Nine purrs, as the thumb of the hand that wasn't spreading his cheeks in lube, runs over Gavin's entrance, relaxing him and making his hips buck. “I am reluctant to ever move you from this position, perhaps I should keep you like this.”
“Don't you — phck — don't you fuckin' dare.” Gavin warns, but it lacks the indignation that he had been aiming for. Too lost in the sensation of Nine's fingers running against him, dipping behind his balls with confidence. Fuck. “I want you inside me, Nine. Now.”
Nine stops drenching him in lube and drops the bottle somewhere, the hand that had been holding it now caressing the inside of Gavin's thigh lovingly. “Of course. Anything you want.” Nine reassures, in a voice that is far too comforting for this situation, and he slips his index finger inside of him finally and pushes up to his knuckle.
Gavin gasps hoarsely, feeling his breath escaping him as that first hot, insistent finger breaches him. His hips arch into Nine's hand, feeling the finger curl inside of him and draw out a bone-deep need from within him. Desperation for more, more of Nine's touch, his fucking hands.
The hand Nine isn't currently fingering him with traces gentle patterns into the skin of his thigh, up to his hipbones and the scars on his stomach. Gavin shudders, unsure which motion was making him tremble more. He's being so careful, so patient. Loving.
A second finger presses into Gavin and he feels the stretch of it, the minuscule burn. But it doesn't hurt. Far from it. It's too warm and fantastic for pain to even play into it, and Gavin can only focus on the amazing sensations Nine's hands are providing him with.
“Nine, ohmyfuckinggod.” Gavin manages, because fuck articulation right now.
Nine hums above him, approving and patient, fingering him leisurely. “You're doing so well, Gavin. So good.”
Gavin's back arches at his words, his face heating up at the praise. He was trying to be good. He wanted to be good for Nine. Knowing he might actually not be as crap as other people had made him out of to be makes his body light with happiness, and Nine picks up on it.
“Good boy. I know you can take this.” A third finger enters Gavin, and his body almost spasms. It's tight and far too wonderful to be true. Nine's hand brushes over bruises and scars on his forearms, carefully tending to each and every single one like no one has ever done before.
Gavin's never had this. Not ever. No one has ever shown this much affection towards him. No one has ever taken the time with him as Nine does now, savoring every inch of him and making him feel more than worthless. More than what he has always believed himself to be.
No one. Not even Ryan. Ryan who would probably already be finished by now and leaving Gavin to lie and tremble in his own fear. Ryan who would press a drunken kiss to his temple with the promise of love before he would beat him to the ground only minutes later. Ryan who did not love him — who never had.
The thoughts swell in Gavin's head and mix with the pleasure he feels from Nine's fingers, and there's a moment where it almost becomes too much. Almost — and then Nine lifts Gavin's wrist to his lips and kisses his scars, fingers curling inside of him as he whispers against his skin.
“You're perfect, Gavin.”
Gavin breaks. Tears push from his eyes before he can stop them, his chest convulses with sobs that mix between euphoria and overwrought. He disintegrates in Nine's arms, which withdraw from Gavin's body and then wrap around him again with strength and comfort and everything Gavin needs. He presses his wet face into a shoulder and doesn't think twice about the salty liquid that spreads across synthetic flesh, too caught up in the moment.
“Shh, now. It's alright, I've got you.” Nine's voice is a consolation through the overwhelming surge of emotions, and Gavin wishes he could clutch onto it and never let go. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to— You are perfect, Gavin. You're so much more than you perceive yourself to be. I promise I would not lie to you.”
“I—I know.” Gavin manages, embarrassed by how wrecked his speech is. Embarrassed of the fact he's having a breakdown halfway through sex. “I'm just... I'm not used to—”
“I understand.” Nine runs a thumb over his cheekbone, wiping away saline tears. Gavin leans into that touch and savors it, the warmth of Nine's palm against his already burning face, synthetic against flesh. His emotions swirl all over the place and he has to take a moment to rein them all back in, but Nine is there through every second of it — a constant, solid reassurance that holds him close to his chest.
Several minutes pass until Gavin's breath returns to normal until his anxiety finally settles the fuck down and takes a back seat. Nine's still touching his cheek, and his other hand is carding through Gavin's hair with sticky fingers. Gavin needed a shower before they had started their activities, but now it was indefinite.
“Better?” Nine asks, words muffled where his lips press against Gavin's temple — the temple where his LED would be situated if he were an android. He wonders if that has any significant meaning, and makes a mental note to ask later.
Gavin manages a nod, his forehead bumping Nine's shoulder several times as he moves his head. “Yeah. Yeah, m'good. Sorry.”
“There's no need to apologize. I told you, I understand.” Nine kisses him again, on his cheek this time, soft and loving compared to the searing kisses he had been smothering his lips with only minutes ago. “If you need to stop, we can.”
“No, it's alright.” Gavin turns his head to capture Nine's lips where they press against his cheek, noses brushing as he speaks. “I want to keep going. I just needed a minute, that's all.”
“Gavin, are you su—”
“I'm positive.” It's satisfying to mirror the words back to him, words that had been said on the couch earlier when Nine had been jolting uncontrollably. That seemed like years ago, but, now Gavin thinks about it, it's probably been less than an hour.
And he is positive. He's sure he wants this, nothing is about to change his mind. If anything, that surge of emotion was due to how fucking happy Gavin felt in this moment, how safe. Nine is all the security he needs.
Their actions are less urgent now, however. It's to be expected, probably, and Gavin knows it's his fault — but he's not complaining. This slow, compelling desire they press against each other with now is just as drugging as the heated, expeditious urge their activity had contained beforehand. It's loving and tender, and when Nine pushes Gavin onto his back against the bed again, he finds himself desperate to just wrap himself into it.
Nine's cock is hard and persistent against his thigh and the fact he's so close makes Gavin's hips arch with need, which in turn makes his own cock rub against Nine's stomach and the friction makes him shudder. Nine eats up the moan that Gavin lets out into their kiss, his tongue pressing back into his mouth again and making Gavin dizzy. It's a lot, but not enough. Nine isn't inside of him yet, and that is undoubtedly an issue.
“Nine...” Gavin whines into the kiss, like the needy fucker he is, “C'mon, please. Please.”
Once upon a time Gavin was ashamed of begging — and the first time he met Nine he would never have pictured them here now, bare bodies pressed against each other as Gavin pleads for Nine to just slip inside him already — but right now Gavin swears he would get on his knees and beg for hours if it meant Nine would do so.
But when the head of Nine's cock finally presses against his entrance, it seems there won't be any need to.
It's just that first little push, but Gavin's already wrecked. He squirms on the bed as Nine guides his length into him, pushing inside inch by inch, slow but tenacious. Nine's hands hold Gavin's hips with a grip that is neither firm nor gentle, but a pleasant mix of both, and Gavin feels the tremor running through his hands where his palms press against him.
Nine settles halfway and Gavin feels full, fuller than he ever has in his life, but he's determined to take more — he bucks his hips against Nine's and lets more of him sink inside, aching pleasantly. Nine seems more than happy with this, and when Gavin manages to peel his eyes open for long enough to look at his face, he sees that same closed—eyed, parted—lip expression he had when Gavin's mouth had been around him. Shallow breaths push out of Nine's mouth that makes Gavin grip the sheets tighter.
Nine settles all the way in, and Gavin's fucking proud of himself. It hurts, but he expects it to, and Gavin can distract himself from it with the delicious pleasure that comes with it. And once Gavin has adjusted and Nine can continue, that pain all but fades away when Nine pulls back out and then pushes back in.
Gavin felt his mind blanking out again, the heat inside of him turning him into vapor as Nine kept up that pace of pulling and pushing, slow and drawn out. It's mere seconds before that burn fades away completely, replaces instead with mindnumbing bliss, and before long Gavin can hardly contain himself from gasping out moan after moan after moan.
“Fuck, f—fuck. Nine, yes.” Gavin's tone sounds foreign to him; he can't ever remember a time he heard himself so breathy, so high pitched. Can't remember the last time he begged for something so much. And he is definitely not ashamed of it. “D—Don't stop.”
Nine is all too happy to oblige, he cries out something hoarse as he drives himself into a faster rhythm, his hands tightening on Gavin's hips where he holds him. Gavin thrusts back in response, and the lewd sounds of their hips smacking together in the silence of the room is enough to make Gavin's eyes roll into the back of his head.
He never wanted this to end. Ever. He was certain he could stay like this for hours, with Nine pushing into him so persistently and providing him the most blissful experience of his life. And with that comes the reminder that this is Nine's first time. His first fucking time ever doing something like this and he's rendered Gavin into a blubbering, moaning mess who probably can't even remember his own name at this point. It's exhilarating to think about what the next time will be like.
Nine's body presses closer suddenly, and Gavin takes that opportunity to wrap his arms around him and dig his nails into his back. It's an automatic reaction, and perhaps he should have checked it was okay first, but he can only take Nine's wrecked moans as a sign that he didn't mind.
He hears Nine make another noise above him, but this is something that doesn't sound even remotely human. A kind of low gasp that wisps with static as it comes out of his mouth, akin to the noise those old cell phones used to make whenever they got to close to another piece of technology. Gavin doesn't clock it the first time around, but when it becomes louder and Gavin can hear the distress in Nine's tone behind it, his eyes fly open to check on him.
The expression he's greeted with is worrying, to say the least. Nine's LED is an angry red color, and his eyes are screwed shut tightly enough to make his brows pinch together. His arms are shaking where he steadies himself on the bed, and as Gavin becomes more aware of the situation he realizes Nine has stopped moving.
Concern ripples through him, “N—Nine? Are you alright? What's happenin'?”
Nine's head does not move, his eyes remain tightly shut, but he does manage to speak. The static continues into his tone as he says, “Th—This is... a lot to process. I am unsure if I can keep this up.”
Gavin's never heard him sound so distressed before, though maybe he had come close when talking about his confusing transition into deviancy. It makes Gavin's chest ache, and he wishes he were more in the loop so he could find better words to say to reassure him.
He reaches up a hand to touch Nine's face, and that, at least, seems to ease some of that expression away. “Shit, okay — Hey, it's alright. You're okay, I've got you.” Gavin wishes he knew more about android systems and programming, because maybe then he would know what to do. But an idea does come to mind that he reckons could help. “Here, let me—”
He means to say what his thought process is, but in the end, he decides to let his actions speak for him. He pulls away until Nine's cock slips from him again, and in one careful, fluid movement, he takes Nine's shoulders and pushes him back down onto the bed instead. Nine's eyes open properly to watch what he's doing, but that LED of his still whirls between red and yellow and lets Gavin know he's struggling.
Gavin straddles his hips, planting his knees either side of him and holding himself above Nine's crotch. Nine offers no protest as Gavin fumbles beneath himself for his cock, positions himself over it and then guides it back into his entrance, sinking down onto it easily. In fact, he moans, soft and breathily and distracted somewhat from whatever his systems were doing to his head.
His LED settles more into the yellow hue and Gavin sees that as progress, hopes that means this is helping. If Nine can distract him from all the emotions inside of him, then Gavin can damn well do the same for him. He leans forward and pins Nine's wrists to the bed and towers over his face, making sure their eyes met as he spoke.
“Just focus on me, yeah? Don't go into your head.” Gavin tries, presses a kiss to his lips as he speaks, and feels his heart thump against his chest when Nine just nods in response. Gavin needs to get him outta his mind, needs to distract him, and he's going to make sure he fucking does it.
He starts to bounce himself on Nine's cock, lets it threaten to slip out before sinking all the way back onto it. Waves of pleasure return and flood his mind, and he feels himself drowning in the sensation of it all. The hands he uses to grip Nine's wrist with move upwards and intertwine with Nine's fingers, holding them tightly to provide more distraction, and Gavin smiles when he feels Nine squeeze back. Sees his lips parting again. Hears soft moans escaping him.
“Ah—Gavin.” His name tumbles past Nine's lips in a tone that can only be described as heavenly, and Gavin feels a flush of pride knowing he's succeeded in distracting him again. And, deciding he wants to hear his name in that voice more, begins picking up a speedy rhythm along Nine's cock.
It's been a long time since he last did something like this, and yet with Nine it's all so easy — so strangely familiar. As if they've done this a hundred times. It only adds to the intensity of the whole situation and makes the pleasure inside of Gavin build more, to the point where he knows he's already so fucking close again, though he wants to hold off for so much longer. Doesn't want this to end so quickly.
Yet, despite his wishes, he feels himself tittering over the edge all too soon. He bears down on Nine relentlessly, lets him fill him up completely, and when Nine reaches up a hand and starts to move it along his cock in perfect time with Gavin's pace — that's when he loses control.
“Oh god... N—Nine!”
His head throws back, his fingers clench around Nine's hands and he slams their hips together and comes — hard and intense, clever fingers working to push semen out of his cock and splattering over Nine's stomach unceremoniously. He doesn't care, can't find a fuck to give, the pleasure too dizzying and mindnumbing as his orgasm rides out on Nine's length.
He feels Nine shudder beneath him too, feels his hips jolting up to meet his own as his own climax rapidly builds to the point where his teeth clamp shut and the synthetic skin on his hands peels away to reveal the white beneath, hints of blue visible where their palms pressed together. Gavin's seen android couples do the gesture before, on the tv and in public, and has no fucking idea what it means — but he knows he wishes he could do it too because he knows it's important for Nine. Knows it means something.
Nine lets out a string of incoherent curses as his hips slam upwards and he comes inside of Gavin, warm and wet and enough to make Gavin let out a few embarrassing noises. Nine's LED is yellow through his orgasm, but Gavin doubts its a bad sign anymore, especially not when his eyes open and look up at Gavin with softness and love, his lips turning upward in a tired smile as he settles again.
Gavin leans against his chest and feels Nine slip out of him, but is far too eager to press their lips together to care. Nine cards a white hand into Gavin's sticky locks as their mouths collide, passionate and greedy, soft and sweet, all at the same time. Gavin's sure he's never had a kiss like it in his life, and definitely does not want it to be the last one.
Panting and fucked out, Gavin tucks his head under Nine's chin and kisses the skin there instead, slowly remembering how to speak again. “You good?”
“My systems are in disarray,” Nine states, matter-of-factly, and Gavin feels his shoulders tense with worry before Nine adds, “I suppose that means I enjoyed it.”
Gavin snorts, “You fuckin'—I hate you.”
“Are you alright, Detective?”
“Mm—amazing, Nine, if you couldn't tell.” Gavin mumbles into his skin, eyes closed and just as content as he claimed to be. “You're fuckin' incredible.”
“You're not too bad yourself.”
“Fuck you.” Gavin rolls off of Nine's body, collapses beside him with all the gracefulness he usually possesses — absolutely none. As much as he had enjoyed riding Nine like that, it felt good to be pressed against a bed again. It made him aware of how exhausted he was — and how disheveled. “We're a mess.”
Nine chuckles, low and amused as ever, glancing down at the white strands on his own stomach and nodding in agreement. “We should get cleaned up.” He announces and draws himself up from the bed. Gavin expects him to go and fetch a towel or something, but instead, he holds out a hand towards him and waits patiently for Gavin to respond. “Come on.”
“What? Where we goin'?”
“To shower. As I said, we should get cleaned up.”
“Shower? Can you even do that?”
Nine arches a brow, and Gavin restrains the urge to slap the look off his face as he says, “Would I have offered if I could not participate?”
“Alright, smartass.” Gavin scowls, standing up to join him anyway. Despite the sarcasm, he really is a mess. A shower doesn't seem like too bad of an idea — especially if it's a shower with Nine. “Good in bed or not, you're still a pain in the ass.”
They shower together happily, and Gavin is, surprisingly, more than happy to let Nine takeover washing his body for him — soaking him with suds and pressing kisses against his body whenever he gets the chance. Gavin does the same for Nine afterward, despite his insisting that he didn't technically need to be washed, but he doesn't seem to mind it in the end.
Once they're finished and dried off, towels are discarded of and Nine leads Gavin into the spare room, deeming his own bed uninhabitable for the night — especially now they were clean. They switch positions many times as they lie in bed, with Nine spooning Gavin at some points and Gavin spooning Nine at others, with Gavin's head on Nine's chest or Nine's head on Gavin's chest. It's comfortable and secure, and they find themselves content wrapped in each other's arms.
It's so funny to Gavin, how much his life has changed in such a short span of time. How only a week ago he was waking up in a cold bed wondering if he would even survive the day, depression and anxiety a constant heavy weight on his shoulders that made even getting up a terrible bore.
Obviously, that hasn't gone away. And it never will. Not completely. Gavin's always going to be scarred and broken from the terrible things Ryan put him through; he's always going to have the reminders of it in his mind and on his skin. But at least, now, he can work on changing that — work on getting through the depression, through his habits and defensive nature. Work on his relationships; with Nine and... maybe even his family. His brother, his parents.
He can try to help Nine, too. Help him through the emotions he doesn't understand, help him whenever his programming fucks with his head too much and sends him into overdrive. Be there for him when that happens, and stand by him every step of the way.
Being with Nine has opened opportunities that Gavin thought he would never have the chance to take, and he'll be damned if he doesn't step up and meet every single one of them.
The overwhelming gratitude he feels for the android blossoms in Gavin's chest as he presses his face into Nine's neck now, basking in the euphoria of his life in this current moment. Nine is the best thing that could have ever happened to him, he's sure of it, and he never ever wants to let him go. Even if it means facing his fears; if he has to grab his anxiety by the reins and pull. He'll do it. Anything to ensure that Nine knows how much he means to him.
So, just as Gavin's about to fall asleep, and Nine kisses his forehead and whispers, “I love you,” against his temple, Gavin lets a smile ghost his lips and lets the words flow easily from his mouth.
“Love you too, smartass.”