avid engineer enjoyer

"Don'tcha have work to do?"

Dell peers over his shoulder to look at the thick arms currently hugging his midsection close, the pressure of them making it difficult to focus on tinkering his robot hand splayed on the work desk.

The engineer, of course, knew right away who it would be. There are two people in this world who could saunter into his workshop uninvited; he knew this because he was the one who installed the mini-sentry mechanism after the bread accident. While not necessarily meant to keep his coworkers out at the time of building, Dell found himself installing the face-recognition system nonetheless after countless memories of projects interrupted by rowdy announcements of his teammates very much not relevant to the project at hand.

Of course, the system isn't always active. Because he isn't that much of a shut-in like some of his comrades. But at the moment, he knows that there are two people he can trust to walk in without getting a bullet to the ankle: the doctor and Pyro.

Pyro is generally quiet with their entrances, the most Dell hears from them is when they take the rolling stool and scoot over to peer at what the man is fiddling with at his desk. There are very little words exchanged, and even less contact, most part to Pyro's own touch repulsion as well as Dell's fragile focus after an hour awake too long.

That only leaves Ludwig, draping himself over Dell's already-sweating back as he looks at the Gunslinger on the table with a quirk in his brow. His eyes are more hooded than normal, face appearing more dark; though it might just be the weak lighting of the room.

"At this time? No, sir! Who could possibly still be working at this hour? It's almost four in the morning," Ludwig grumbled into the man's shoulder, eyes now glaring into the other's through the goggles obstructing them.

"Look out, a hypocrite is talkin'," the engineer tries to return his attention towards the hand, he still has another upgrade to install before it's ready to shove back onto his hand.

"Hm, you got me there, Engelein. But even then, a man of science gets tired, does he not? Tell me, Love, when was the last time you slept?" 

He sure doesn't hold back on the names in the workshop, Dell snorts to himself as he squint harder at the hand, feeling the back of his head hyperfocus on the touch burning through his clothes all the more.

"Well, actually, toda–"

"I'm speaking of proper sleep, Schatzi. What you engineers call sleep isn't what I mean."

"Well, I can tell you, it sure isn't this week."

He felt the other man's groan through his chest when the doctor bumped his head into his back, hands tightening to the point he felt some of his old respawn-healed wounds burn.

"Dummkopf! How do you expect to keep your brains like this!?" 

"Brains mean little when your job for the past five years has been senselessly putting holes into men in gravel pits."

"And yet, you're using them," Dell is yanked from his seat, and his first instinct is to reach for the gunslinger with his left to messily shove it onto his hand to confront the assailant. He reasons, a second later, that medic surely isn't about to kill him on the spot, no matter how unpredictable the man might be.

"That is enough talking! I am using the last of my brains to get you into bed!" 

"But darlin', I still have to finish the upgrade!" 

"Is it important?" 

Dell narrows his eyes as the doctor shifts him to a more comfortable, non-stretchy hold, "Well… It is an upgrade…"

"Yes? I would believe so."

"Gah, shut your trap," he smiles, head still comprehending how to say 'important', "It'll hopefully improve the mobility and feel of it. I might just be able to feel things like pressure."

He can see the doctor struggle not to look back at the arm on the desk, his eyes filling in for the usual "Ooh!" at a new, interesting discovery.

The medic persists, "So, easy. Look at your hands, Spatzi, you will not get a thing done like that! You are worse than that little scout! The upgrade must wait for the morning."

Truth be told, his fingers have started twitching uncontrollably, and his hand tremor had gotten worse as soon as he took his hand off the screwdriver. Though he reasons, he could get it under control easily if the man just let him have the peace to–

"No objections! We are going to bed now, and we are not coming back until morning!" Ludwig stood up straighter, almost proud of himself for proving the engineer wrong, starting to move away from the table without even needing more input.

Dell sighed into the man's shoulder, a part of him annoyed at the babying nature of all this, while the other simply melted into the man's warmth, neglecting the pointed smell of disinfectant and metallic blood in the doctor's jacket.