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allegedlyanandroid · 4 years ago

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Hello! For the fic prompts! Can I got a 900Gavin A/B/O fic about alpha!RK900 who try to bite Omega!Gavin scent glands when they first meet because RK900 didn't have a social program but have only a primal instinct program? Could pls keep it fluff and light,plssss? 🥺 I read too many dark fics but if it couldn't then it ok too.

I took some artistic liberties with this one and made Gavin a bounty hunter for the sole purpose that I couldn’t figure out a good reason as to why Fowler would assign them as partners if Nines tried to take a bite out of him on first meeting. I mean... who can blame him though? Gavin is a snacc. Did I think to much into it? Yes, definitely. Either way, I hope you like it @therainnight, fingers crossed that it has an okay ratio of fluff in it <3

There’s nothing to suggest he’s being followed, no out-of-the-ordinary sounds, no footsteps, no nothing. Doesn’t matter. Gavin has always had good instincts and right now they’re telling him that something, or someone, is stalking him. Glancing as far behind himself as he can through his peripheral vision means he catches the glimpse of movement before it’s too late. Gavin whirls around just as he’s pushed backwards against a tree and the impact is enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

A forearm keeps him pressed against it while he stares uncomprehending at razor-sharp teeth set in a half-finished face.

‘Oh, hell no,’ is what comes to mind and it’s through pure instinctive reaction that he manages to get a hand up between them and shove it as far into the android’s mouth as he can ‒ quick enough to keep it from sinking its teeth into the glands in his neck. He’d rather lose a few fingers than be bond-mated on first meeting like some omega bride in the twentieth century. His other hand is still free so he ignores the glowing eyes peering into his soul, and the curious gnawing over the digits he unceremoniously shoved in the android’s mouth, in order to find the glowing circle in the middle of its chest. Digging his fingers into the minute crack the thirium pump regulator slides into his hand with a muted hiss, strangely warm and disgustingly slick with thirium.

The android yelps, scrambling backwards, and releases Gavin’s saliva-slick hand as it falls down in a crouch. It stares desperately at the cylinder held aloft in the air. It jolts forward when Gavin squeezes it between claw-tipped fingers until it threatens to bend under the strain and render it useless, eyes are wide and sorrowful, the glow in them sapping away with every passing second. Gavin nearly feels bad for it.

“Why are you following me?!” he demands to know, pushing the thought aside.

It doesn’t answer, shifting in place as it continues to stare at him.

“You can have this back if you tell me.” Half-truths. The android merely curls in on itself, pressing the palm of its hand against its own throat. It mouths something but the dark plating making up the lower part of his face makes it impossible to see what. Then it clicks. “You can’t talk?”

It nods.

Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the droid looks anything but finished. Gavin can see parts of its biocomponents pulsing a subdued red behind clear panelling mixed in with sleek metal in a colour so dark it’s nearly void. The upper part of its face has synthskin, including his upper lip, but everything below is made of the same black material. Its ears nearly blend into the raven hair on its head and Gavin can’t find it in himself to be angry at it. Clearly, it’s a lost ‒ and potentially broken ‒ thing. Not unlike himself.

Gavin tosses the regulator in the android’s direction and marches on. He has a job to do after all and tracking only gets harder the longer he dawdles. Almost immediately the feeling returns and he groans out loud. The time-limit forces him to keep moving regardless of his silent companion. His target already has a two-day head start and the moment Weiss crosses the border into Canada Gavin can’t do jack-shit to him. He jerks the rifle higher on his back and continues to follow the scent of old blood laid into the earth. Evidently the bastard isn’t worried about being followed so much as setting a fast pace despite his injuries.

When night begins to fall, the shadows lengthening around him, Gavin reluctantly sets up camp. There’s maybe another two days before he catches up and seeing as they’re about a three day’s march from the border he’ll be cutting it close.

The area he finds is partly protected from the elements and close to a stream of trickling water. “I know you’re there,” he calls while rummaging around his supplies to find kindling. There’s a rustle of the underbrush to his left and the hulking mess of an android appears at the edge of camp. It looks hesitant, almost skittish, where it stands. It makes little sense given how bulky the ‘droid is and how aggressive it behaved earlier. Clearly it should be able to hold its own going off design alone. Gavin returns to ignoring it after a last wary glance and swears beneath his breath when the wood won’t catch flame.

The android shifts into his line of sight and approaches slowly, like one would a vicious or scared animal. It stops again and gestures to the attempted fire, tilting its head in question. Gavin sighs. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs. “‘s not like you can do a worse job.”

Despite the less-than-friendly tone, the android visibly perks up. Gavin watches as it rearranges the collected wood with meticulous focus before stripping one of its fingers of plating and snapping off a few wires. The resulting electric sparks is what it uses to light the kindling. The fire slowly spreads over bark and wood until they’re engulfed by flames, cracking and popping in the still evening. Satisfied, it prods at the still-sparking wires with a finger, completely transfixed by the reds, oranges and yellows found in the flickering fire.

Gavin offers a crooked grin in thanks. “Wonders of technology. You need any help with that?”

The android shakes its head no, poking the wires back in place, before clicking the plating back where it belongs. It looks to be smiling slightly as it reluctantly gathers itself up to leave.

Gavin stops it with a hand on its wrist.

“You can stay.”

It’s basic human decency Gavin tells himself when he watches the android shuffle closer to the flames, hands outstretched as if to absorb its warmth. With the light’s help he can just about make out the serial-number etched into its chassis right over its thirium pump. “RK900, “ Gavin reads, “-that’s not one I’ve heard of before.” The droid turns to him and holds up one finger, turning it afterwards to point at himself. Gavin hums. “One of a kind then. I can relate to that.”

The android slides closer, looking up with a soft “go-on” like gesture that Gavin is helpless to resist.

He wakes up the next morning feeling as if everything has tilted slightly to the left and groggily gets himself ready for the day, rolling up his sleeping bag and kicking dirt over the fire’s embers, while RK stares at him with intrigue. They begin the trek not long after with Gavin wolfing down a protein bar in lieu of breakfast. RK frowns at him then, his brows furrowed severely, but it quickly turns to confusion when Gavin sticks his tongue out at him and picks up the pace. While they walk, he contemplates when in the previous evening he began referring to RK as “he” instead of “it”. There’s no doubt that the android is alive, for lack of a better term, animated and interested and latching onto every word of Gavin’s tales the way he used to do himself when he was younger and less jaded.

Gavin, lost in thought, doesn’t notice RK disappearing for a moment. His return is difficult to miss though since he presents him with a perfectly symmetrical trientalis europaea, its yellow core surrounded by seven white petals. A stark contrast to the black hands cupping it; delicate fragility resting in palms simply not made for such sweet blossoms. There’s excitement radiating off him, nestled in his glowing eyes, which doubles when Gavin asks: “Is that for me?”

The nod is quick as RK moves his hands an inch closer. Gavin takes it with a soft “thank you.” He looks at it for a moment longer and then takes his notebook from his inner pocket to place the flower there, snapping it shut and tying it with twine to really press flat. RK preens, turning his gaze bashfully to the forest floor, while Gavin pretends his cheeks aren’t flushed red.

When at last it comes time to make camp Gavin is pleased with their progress. “The scent of blood is more prominent. Even if he’s on scent blockers I can pick up smoke from the campfire. We’re getting close.”

His statement prompts an explanation about the reason he’s in the woods to begin with. The concern he shows upon hearing of Gavin’s chosen field of work is quickly dismissed with a: “I managed to bring you down, didn’t I?” which RK’s lips twitch at. He settles even closer to Gavin today, surreptitiously scenting the air between them, until Gavin asks him about it point-blank.

‘You smell nice,’ RK writes out on a torn-out page in Gavin’s book. ‘It’s what drew me in.’

“I smell like fuck-all while on blockers.”

‘Leather, coffee, something sweet like honey.’ It takes a moment before RK writes the next part: ‘You’re an omega.’

Gavin is still reeling when the last part of the sentence hits him like a punch to the gut. He takes his blockers near religiously, there’s no way RK should be able to‒

...but then the air around him floods with hints of metal and ozone. He’d smelled it before, when RK first came at him, but it had been absent since.

An alpha.

As soon as the scent envelops him it lessens again. ‘It’s hard to concentrate, to control myself, unless I turn that part of my programming off. Although, it means I have to get in close to smell anything.’

Gavin doesn’t know what to say to that, to any of it, so he remains quiet even if he doesn’t move away to allow RK to take in his scent as he pleases.

The weather dips dangerously in the late night and Gavin wakes up shivering. “Fuck, dammit,” he curses. Maybe he should keep moving. Catch the fucker earlier and finally get away from here. ‘Terrible plan,’ Gavin reminds himself as another shiver wracks through his body. Weiss is an alpha and as much as Gavin loathes to admit it, they are stronger than him. His strength is his speed and precision, dancing out of people’s range until they tire, or using his omega status as a lure. The last one wouldn’t help him here and the former only works if he’s well-rested and alert.

RK is just now stoking the fire. It helps, a bit, but Gavin is still feeling numb; fingers and toes hurting when he attempts to stretch them out.

“Hey, RK. C’mere a second.”

The android obeys without question, crouching down next to where Gavin has struggled into a sitting position. He places his hands against RK’s bare chassis to test his theory. There’s a low thrumming vibration beneath his fingertips and the metal is surprisingly warm to the touch. RK moves to clasp Gavin’s hands between his own and slowly rubs over them, keeping them covered while his chassis suddenly generates more heat.

Once they’re an appropriate temperature again RK moves to sit behind him. Gavin watches him, a question etched clearly into his eyes, but RK merely lays down, waiting and watching. Glacially slowly Gavin joins him on the ground and the android smiles shyly before turning his back on him. Gavin mirrors him once more, shuffling until they lie back to back, and both the warmth from the fire and RK enveloping him is a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

The morning after is filled with glances out of the corner of his eye, with the urge to hold RK’s stupid hand, and he wonders when he became so starved of touch, of someone showing the slightest bit of kindness to him, that two days are enough to want to pull RK down by his hair and kiss him senseless.

They catch up to Weiss a short few hours later and Gavin presses the rifle into RK’s hands as a safety precaution before throwing himself into the fight. It��s quick and dirty with Gavin using every trick in the book to gain the upper hand while dancing around the wildly thrown punches. Grinning through the rush of adrenaline Gavin eventually stops toying with the man and brings him down with a few precise kicks and punches. He locks handcuffs around Weiss’ wrists, arms behind his back, while Weiss shouts abuse and obscenities at him. Gavin pays it no mind, explaining with a sick sense of satisfaction that the cuffs aren’t coming off without a DNA signature from his friend and that running would mean a slow death for him left out in the elements. “Truth be told, I don’t care whether or not you’re still breathing when I bring in proof of your capture. I can afford to lose the difference in compensation.”

Weiss falls limp at that while Gavin slowly rises to his feet. When he looks up, remembering they’re not alone, RK is standing still as a statue. He stalks over, bearing a striking resemblance to a predator approaching prey, and presses right up into Gavin’s personal space to shove his nose into his neck and inhale. A rumbling noise is caught in his throat, a growl that has Gavin’s knees weakening slightly, as sharp teeth graze over his throat. Ozone and metal. Wicked claws not present before gripping his jaw tightly.

He reaches up to stick his thumb in RK’s mouth, pressing it down on his tongue with narrowed eyes. RK pricks it with his fangs and laps at the drop of blood with his tongue, all the while keeping eye contact. It makes Gavin squirm, just a little bit, and he’s thankful the heat suppressors keep him from getting wet or the walk back would be uncomfortable to say the least. With a graze of his teeth, RK loosens his hold and puts distance between them again, eyes dark and wanting.

Weiss tries to run about two thirds of the way back and Gavin sighs as he readies his reclaimed rifle. Turns out he never has to use it. RK’s head snaps up and he tracks the man’s erratic patterns for a second before giving chase. He’s practically a blur of movement and Gavin watches, transfixed, as he takes Weiss down in one graceful leap. The lack of being able to catch himself smacks Weiss’ head hard against the ground. RK doesn’t seem to care about the man’s dazed state as he drags him back to Gavin, his claws buried deep into the sides of his neck, hand cupping the back of it. He tosses him at Gavin’s feet and offers a razor-sharp grin, nudging the guy with the tip of his foot.

Gavin gives him a light kiss on the cheek for his help and can almost imagine the tail wagging behind him with excitement at the gesture of affection.

What doesn’t fit the crumbling infrastructure in the slums or the dingy office he rents for cheap is the well-kept lady in smart business attire standing next to him behind the desk.

Maurice Gacy, the guy they usually make business with, is a weasel of a man. His thin greasy hair and slimy smile fits his role of lowlife criminal perfectly. His side hustle of collecting bounties for the Guild is the only reason Gavin interacts with him, puts up with his leering and comments. Trust only extends so far between them but... all in all he gives the money owed and he keeps his mouth shut when talking to the cops which is all that really matters in the end.

RK tenses behind him, something Gavin senses in the clicking of his machinery, and Gavin frowns at the broad smile beginning to stretch over her face. “You found it,” she says lightly, walking in a measured pace while Gacy warily trails behind, heels clicking across the linoleum.

Gavin takes a step forward to meet her and bares his teeth in a snarl. “Back off.”

She nods sagely, uncaring for his hostility and lengthening canines. “Yes, of course. Money first. Always the same with you lot, isn’t it?” The node she produces from her fitted jacket flares to life and he stares, heart stuttering in his chest, at the very familiar face displayed.

WANTED

RK900, MODEL NUMBER #313 248 317 - 87

REWARD: 1.000.000 $

HIGHLY VOLATILE AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS

PREFERABLE IF IT REMAINS OPERABLE UPON COLLECTION

Metal and ozone laced with a bitter tinge resembling fear.

A flower stuck between yellowing pages.

Viscous saliva and thirium dripping from his hands.

Whatever RK’s crime can Gavin truly bear to have more of his blood on them when it’s sure to stain them always? The thought is on the forefront of his mind when RK walks up to stand by his side, resignation already home in eyes and slowly sapping them of light, and in that moment, Gavin has his answer.

His arm shoots out to block RK from moving further and slowly raises his chin in defiance. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

They’re all staring at him, RK with a mix of wonder and trepidation, so Gavin sets his jaw and forces calm into his voice. “You can fuck right off with that shit, he’s not the reason we’re here.” With a nod to Tina, she steps forward and shoves Weiss at Gacy. Thankfully he’s too much of a coward to pick a fight and transfers the agreed upon money to her before whisking Weiss away towards the back. Tina raises an eyebrow at him, bumping their shoulder together lightly as she walks out the door, and Gavin has never been as thankful to have her as he is right now when the unmistakable sound of an engine rumbling to life filters in from outside. “Come on, we’re done here.”

It’ll start a shitstorm, that’s for damn sure, but with RK leaning forward to peer out the front window as they tear through the streets, Gavin can’t find it in himself to care.

#allegedly answering asks #dbh gavin #gavin reed #dbh rk900 #rk900 #reed900 #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #mini fic #my writing #is nines courting gavin in this to the best of his abilities?#yes absolutely #does gavin know?#debatable #he's both thick and thicc if you know what i mean

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