#human x android

They wanted to so badly. That was half the point of a companion droid, and it was most of the reason they had scraped and scratched together enough for a down payment on one.

But did the droid want a romantic relationship? They were technically a slave — not legally a citizen, sold to the human with the intention of following directions and working, not expected to disobey or have their own life outside of their owner….

It made the human's stomach feel muddy to think about every time. Was it technically coercion to have a romantic relationship with a companion droid? People did it all the time, but that didn't make it right. Was the droid even allowed to speak up if they didn't like something? Did they truly even have likes and dislikes?

The droid uttered their name with that airless, intimate voice of theirs. It was a soft question, and the human gripped onto whatever was in their hands a little tighter — the droid's hand.

The droid was always warm. Despite being made of metal, their touch was always soft. Synthetic skin made most of their body give much like flesh, but their back and the top of their shoulders were harder, and sometimes if they hugged too tightly, the human could feel the metal plates there. They were metal, and they weighed twice as much as the human, and they could lift a ton and a half, but they were the softest, kindest person the human had ever met.

"Are you okay?" they asked, concern in their smooth voice. The human held their hand a little tighter, and they squeezed back and hugged the human closer and the human nodded as the droid rested their soft, warm cheek against the human's ear. "What's bothering you?" they whispered.

The human's face got even hotter. Oh, no, could they even say it? Did they have a choice anymore? They'd been dodging questions about this train of thought for over a week, but the day hadn't started yet and they didn't have any excuses this time. What would their droid think if they didn't say anything? Would they think they were making the human uncomfortable — would they stop cuddling them on the couch and nuzzling them while they ate?

"Uh," the human croaked, squeezing their eyes shut, "c-can you — if, if you wanted to, are you, um, are you able to tell s-someone… no?"

There was a long, horrible pause. With the droid's head so close to their ear, the human was able to hear the tiny little sounds as they thought and processed the question.

"I have the ability to give and deny consent, yes," they said as if it was an odd question. "How long have you been worried I couldn't say no?" they asked softly, gently rolling the human onto their back in their arms and lifting themself up onto their elbow. The human let out a little sound too quiet to be a squeak.

The droid looked into their eyes, and the human was caught again by the way the inhumanly green irises moved. Their droid was beautiful, and they were so kind and sweet. The human glanced away.

"A few days…."

The droid seemed to sigh, making the sound and their chest and shoulders falling. Then they leaned forward, slightly over the human, gently resting their forehead against theirs. The human stilled immediately.

The droid's eyes were closed, as if peacefully, lightly asleep, and their lips were so close, and so plump and soft looking. Their lips had to be soft, and warm, and kind, just like the rest of them. It made sense they would be. The human tried to swallow their heart, which was suddenly taking up space in their throat. This was their best possible chance, the best one they'd gotten so far, the droid was so close and they'd just said they could say no if they wanted. But that didn't mean they wouldn't reject the human — in fact, now the question wasn't if the droid could say no and instead if they would. Because now the human knew they could be rejected.

The droid opened their eyes again, and it almost made the human's heart stop with just how pretty they were. Those luminescent, beautiful eyes looked into theirs, and the droid seemed to search for something for a moment, and then their eyes slid closed again gently, and they leaned their head down, and the human's heart was suddenly beating so hard and loud as they closed their eyes and parted their lips.

The droid's lips were soft, and they were warm, and they kissed chastely. But the human let out a soft little whimper anyway, because their droid was kissing them! Their face was hot, and they wanted to squirm, so they reached a cautious hand up into the droid's hair.

The droid shifted their weight, settling to be slightly overtop of the human, moving out from under their legs as the human huffed and tried not to move too much. They already felt like a mess, and the sheets were hot around them and their ears were singing, and the droid tilted their head a little more—

The human gasped when they felt the droid's tongue pass through their lips, and they couldn't hold back the little whine of need. Fingers trembling in the droid's hair, the human opened their mouth more, and then the droid hummed and shifted, and the human thought they were going to burst into flames when their heavy weight moved and they were completely on top of the human.

The droid moved one hand into the human's hair, giving just the barest tug, sounding very much like they were breathing harder, moving their tongue in the human's mouth and pressing their lips together harder. The human let out a needing whine, their whole body hot and trembling. The droid moaned, sending a jolt up the human's spine as they held the human's hair just a little tighter, and finally the human couldn't take any more. They squirmed, gasping, overwhelmed, and the very instant they moved away, the droid let go and pulled back, too.

The human covered their face with both hands, sure they were red as a tomato, chest heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Their whole body was shaking, and they could feel every bit of the droid resting atop them, their fingers in the human's hair, their thumb running patiently along their hairline. The droid had just kissed them! The droid had kissed them…. And the human, they'd ruined it, they'd cut it short, they'd made so many sounds and they were so squirmy and sweaty. They'd thought so long about their first kiss with the droid but it had never gone like this! They were a complete mess.

"Sorry," the human panted. There was a pause, and then the droid gave a soft little laugh.

"Don't be," they whispered.

The human hunkered down slightly, but then relaxed partway. The droid sounded… fond. They weren't mad or grossed out.

The human parted their fingers, looking up at those pretty, green eyes. The droid watched them for a moment, and when they caught the other's gaze, the droid gave a soft, loving smile that lit up their whole face. The human drew their hands down slowly, basking in the droid's tender glow.

"I've been waiting my whole life to kiss you," the droid breathed. The human's eyes widened, their heart pounding as their breath caught. They… they hadn't considered that before. The idea that the droid wanted to kiss them.

"Oh," was all they managed. Oh, the droid felt that way, too. Oh, they'd wasted precious time fretting over things they could have simply asked for. Oh, the short time they'd spent together with the droid had been the droid's whole and entire life.

Oh. How long had the droid been looking forward to kissing them?

The human let out an embarrassed little whine and covered their face as new waves of heat ran through them. The droid giggled, and the human squirmed back into the pillow when the droid shifted their weight over them and pressed a soft kiss to their forehead.

"I'll make you French toast," the droid whispered, lips grazing the human's skin. All they could do was nod, still hiding from the blinding rays of the droid's audible smile. One more kiss to their skin, and then the droid moved off of the bed and away.

“This little side biz is just for us, okay? No need to tell Anthony, okay? Just calm down. If I can work this equation out, I could make us millions!” That was your brother talking. His voice was soft but masculine, much like your father’s. Warm and kind.

“Jazz, mixing human blood and thirium? Seriously? I took you under my wing when you joined us ‘cause I know how Tony can be, but seriously, this is too risky. You’re the smartest Mixer we’ve ever seen, but this is just plain stupid. What are you even wanting to achieve here?” The second voice was rising in panic. You peek between the cracks of the door. It was a woman, much taller than your brother but slender and elegant. Her back was to you, but you could see Jazz’s face.

He reaches forward and grabs onto the woman’s arms, rubbing them up and down like he does with you when you’re upset. Was she crying? Is this his girlfriend?

“Jenna, I’m going to make us rich. Ever since I got in with Cyberlife, I’ve learned so much. This is inevitable. Once they create the perfect android, it’s only a matter of time before they start to merge us with them. First, create the perfect life form. Then, merge the perfect with the imperfect and- boom! You have the biggest industry in the history of the world! All people want is more time. I can give them that!”

“Sorry, Jazz. It’s just too much right now. I truly am sorry. You’re out. You’ve brought too much attention to us,” the woman shakes her head, stepping away from Jazz.

“Jenna?”

Just then, a hand grabs the back of your neck, and with a scream, you jerk awake.

It was a memory you hated to recall, but your sleeping mind seemed set on reliving it, over and over again. That night was the night your brother was murdered. You can’t really remember in full detail what happened. You were only six or seven at the time. And yet, your mother saw it right to blame you. 

‘Why did you call the police?’ ‘Why did you let him bleed out in front of you?’ ‘How could you run?’ ‘You’re a terrible sister, you let your brother die, you were supposed to look out for each other.’

You don’t know what was worse, your mothers new hatred of you, or the hundred and hundreds of police interviews, press conferences, and shrink visits that followed the murder. But all that came from it was that Jason “Jazz” (Y/L/N) was found as a criminal drug manufacturer and distributor for the newly spreading narcotic ‘red ice’. His lab was in the basement of your home, which had been his man cave since he’d turned 20-years-old. 

But your brother had always been the favorite. He was the first-born, after all. Despite the fact that your parents were both only 18 when they had Jazz, they loved him more than anything. Your mother was told she wouldn’t be able to have another child, which was heart-breaking at first, but then came as a blessing. More time to spend with Jazz and each other, right?

And then you came along. A miracle, the doctors called it. But your mother had only cried that day, Jazz told you. Your mother always had something better to do than watch over you. Work, meetings, yacht club, ladie’s nights. It had pretty much just always been you and Jazz.

After you turned 18 and went off to college, they had cut off all contact. Just a year ago, your father had died of a heart-attack. Your mother told you don’t bother coming home. You had been removed from the will. Allegedly.

But that didn’t matter. You had a purpose, a goal, a mission. The past 18  years had been to accomplish this goal. To find your brother's killer, to take down the Red Ice operations, and clear his name. You couldn’t believe he was just some drug dealer. He was so much more than that, and you were going to prove it.

As you prepare yourself for the morning, you check your phone. Eight missed calls from the same unknown number. Probably someone at the department. You hit the call button and pour yourself a coffee, checking the clock. It read 5:22 A.M.

“(Y/N), finally. I’ve been trying to reach you.” It took a minute to register the smooth voice on the other end of the line.

“Nines,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “You do realize humans need sleep? Especially since this human stayed at the precinct until midnight.”

“I apologize for the disturbance, but I have found some information that I think you’d be interested in. And it has something to do with you.” His tone was even and monotonous, but soothing. It was a nice voice to hear at the ass-crack of dawn.

But even his gentle voice couldn’t help the skip in your heart rate. “What do you mean?”

“Just come to the precinct. I’ll present my file to you then.” And with that, he ends the call. Not one for formalities, you have learned.

                __________________________________________

Pulling your coat around yourself tighter, you try to warm yourself with your third coffee for the day, but there’s something that is just nagging at you. A cold sinking feeling in your stomach. Dread? No amount of coffee has been able to relieve it, and it’s got you on edge.

“Good morning Nines,” you grumble as you sink into your adjacent chair. He swivels around in his own, with a pad screen in his hands.

“Greetings, (Y/N). Did you not sleep well?” Maybe you didn’t, because you swear you can see a small crease of worry between his brows, but in an instant, it’s gone.

“Same as usual. What have you got? Did you look into Hanna Tjones’s background?”

“That’s what I’ve found so interesting. There’s virtually nothing on her. She appears to be very good at avoiding identification. The only mention of her name is in a few articles from local investigations.”

“That’s odd,” you mumble to yourself, taking the pad from his hands and flipping through the articles. It seemed like she was a witness to a murder, but wasn’t considered a suspect.

“I saw a connection between the names Nathan Jones and Hanna Tonjes. I believe it’s an anagram,” he leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. A stray hair falls across his forehead, and you want to reach out and tuck it away again. You look back down to the articles.

“I believe they’re anagrams of Nathan Jones. I came up with a list of all the anagrams that come from that name. I found 19 in total, and one of those names was linked to an article. An article that you’re also in.”

A cold sweat breaks out across your spine, and a hot sensation burns in the back of your throat as you look down at the black-and-white photo that was the head image in newspapers for months after that awful night.

You, holding a police officer’s hand, covered in blood as he carefully guides into the back of his car. You were looking over your shoulder, directly into the camera, your eyes wet with tears, the whites of your eyes shining under the flash of the camera.

But that wasn’t what you couldn’t stop staring at. No, your gaze was focused on the unmistakable face of two people. Obviously twins. One, the officer holding your hand, noted as Officer Nathan Jones under the grainy photo. But next to him, in the distance, almost blending into the background, was the distinct face of his twin sister, her feminine physique exactly as you remembered. Tall, slender, and a cold gaze observing the chaos. Her name was marked as Jenna Ashton.

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