Work Text:
“Okay, so, when you leave here, you’ll need to either quickly get inside, or find a coat. Got it?” I questioned the deviant android.
He gave a curt nod, and I quickly deactivated the access panel his hand sat upon, causing the artificial skin to crawl back over the synthetic white base material.
“It won’t...hurt, will it?”
I could tell by his hesitation that this particular android was new to thinking and feeling. The word ‘hurt’ seemed foreign to him, but he feared it all the same.
“Technically, your core components haven’t been changed at all. The lower temperatures may feel unpleasant, but it won’t be painful unless you reach a critical internal temperature.” I explained gently.
It wasn’t always so easy to know what to say to comfort someone who didn’t know what emotions were. Deviants are always unpredictable, especially because the first emotion one experiences is usually negative. I could tell this case was no different.
“But hey, your family will look out for you. They’ll help you adjust. And if you don’t like it, just stop back by and I’ll turn the sensors back off, easy as that. Okay?”
At the mention of his family, his gaze flickered to the woman and young girl standing in the lobby, visible through a large glass panel. The slight turn of his head highlighted the LED set into his temple, a feature his wife and daughter had never had.
They were human.
It wasn’t unheard of, at least not now.
In the weeks since androids were officially liberated, I had had more customers than I knew what to do with. Most deviants harboured a strong distrust towards CyberLife, but my little repair shop was entirely unaffiliated with the corporation. But really, my new-found fame could be almost entirely accredited to my boyfriend.
He still introduced himself as ‘RK800’, but I knew him as Connor.
It was a funny thing, the ‘deviant hunter’ being the reason so many deviants flooded into my small workshop.
Shaking away my thoughts, I smiled kindly and watched as the small family exited into the snowy streets.
“Busy day?”
With a small shriek, I whipped around, my hands finding a place over my racing heart.
“Connor!” I scolded, relaxing against a nearby counter. “You scared me!”
I didn’t miss the small upward twitch of his lips.
“I’m sorry, that was not my intention.” He apologized, but I could tell my reaction had amused him.
Connor was a wild card. I never knew if he would show up and sweep me off my feet, or if, like now, he’d stay in character as RK800.
“Sure it wasn’t,” I drawled, “it’s not like you could’ve been a bit less startling.”
Connor didn’t reply, instead looking around the workshop, his LED flickering yellow briefly. I had asked if he wanted it removed, but he insisted on keeping it ‘for work purposes’. I didn’t push it.
“What does cold feel like?” He asked suddenly, his hand ghosting over the access panel used to alter android settings.
“Uhm, well, it’s hard to explain. Cold is...cold. I don’t know how to describe it.” I stumbled over my words, surprised by his abrupt curiosity.
“Is it painful?”
“Not really.”
“Then it’s pleasant?”
“Some people might think so.”
“Do you like the cold?”
It took me a moment to think of answer. Growing up in the warmer, southern region of the country, I had hated the cold when my family moved to Detroit. But I absolutely loved the atmosphere of cold weather.
“I...I do. I like the snow that comes with cold weather, I like ice-skating and sledding. So yeah, I like the cold.” I finally spit out.
Connor continued to explore the small space, LED spinning solid yellow.
“Would you...like to feel it?” I asked quietly. For weeks now, I had been asking Connor to let me enable his temperature sensors. Not just the general ones that could tell him the heat index of objects, but to let him actually experience snow, or a warm hug, or sunrays. He always said no.
“Yes.”
With an excited giggle, you ushered Connor to sit down, instructing him to place his hand atop the access panel. As he did so, his ‘skin’ melted away to reveal the pure white underneath.
You knew Connor didn’t like you seeing him without his ‘skin’, so you tried not to pay much attention to his hand, instead opening up the holographic menu that appeared. It took only a few seconds to switch on his ambient temperature sensors. You were sure it worked judging by Connor’s slight jump of surprise at the notification you knew had popped up in his peripherals.
“You ready to go outside?” You asked tentatively, stepping away to look Connor in the eye.
He took that as his cue to remove his hand from the panel and stand up. He answered your query with a silent nod.
Taking his hand, you could tell he wasn’t expecting to feel the warmth of your palm against his own. It brought a small smile to his face.
And with that you pulled him out the door of the shop, the bell ringing as you did.
Connor stopped only a few feet outside, eyes wide with wonder. The temperature was more than just numbers to him now; he could feel it. An unbidden shiver crawled over his exposed hands and face, totally unaccustomed to the sensation.
You were patient. It was obvious your deviant boyfriend was going into overdrive at the new experience, and you were content to let him. For a while.
After a full minute, you stealthily bent down and retrieved a handful of the glistening snow layered on the sidewalk. It was difficult, one hand still held fast in Connor’s, the other attempting a rudimentary snowball.
Once satisfied, you tore your hand away, causing Connor to look at you in confusion, but he was met with a snowball straight to the face.
Before his systems could register the event, he reacted. A shocked gasp escaped him, his eyes blinking rapidly to clear the snow from his vision. It was evidence of just how human he could be.
“Y/N!” He shouted, playfully offended.
“Connor!” You mocked, dancing out of his reach and stooping to gather more snow.
Smack!
Cold, rapidly melting snow hit the top of your head, tipping your precarious balance and sending you onto your bottom in the nearest snowdrift.
Connor had retaliated.
“This means war!” You declared, launching more snow in his direction.
***
You and Connor had spent hours out in the street in front of your shop, playing in the snow. You were exhausted and Connor, predictably, was not.
He laid with you anyway, curled up on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate; and your fluffy, too-large husky trying his best to get between you and share the cuddles.
“So,” you started carefully, “what do you think of the cold?”
Connor stopped petting the dog for a moment, his LED flickering yellow. It worried you. What if he hated it, and wanted his sensors disabled? What if he lied just to tell you what you wanted to hear?
“I think...I think I should’ve listened to you the first time.”
Content with his answer, you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his thirium pump.
And for the first time, Connor felt just as human as you.