Archive of Our Own ^beta

Evan Petrovic would not have described himself as a romantic. He would have, given the opportunity, described himself as a paranoid loner, or a tech-obsessed weirdo, or perhaps even a socially awkward computer nerd. Suffice to say, he didn't have many friends. 

Or at least, all of that was true until it suddenly wasn't anymore, and everything he'd ever been had gotten flipped entirely onto its head. Now, he would definitely describe himself as a hopeless romantic, and, even more bizarrely, guilty of criminal treason. So things were definitely different.

He was busy managing a folder full of bitcoin portfolios, his only real income now that he was dealing with the Mechae state's more abstract value system- but moreso than that, he was watching Thrush in the kitchen, humming happily and chopping away at a cutting board. It should have been a strange sight, since it wasn't like he could eat it, but it was so normal at this point Evan couldn't find it odd even when he was trying. 

He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky, and he wasn't altogether convinced he deserved it. He had spent a lot of time on the other side of the border, making life harder for the side he was living on now, but despite that, his boyfriend who didn't eat was humming in the kitchen and focusing very intently on what he was cooking. 

"Hey," said Thrush, staring at a bottle he was holding, "What's cumin? Is it spicy?" 

Evan considered it. "It's spicy, but it's not hot." 

Thrush blinked and turned to look at him. "I have no idea what that means."

"It's good. Just a really strong flavour."

"Hrrm," Thrush hummed, tail lashing thoughtfully. He returned to what he was doing, seemingly engrossed. 

Evan closed his laptop. He couldn't focus on work at all. Thrush was doing that tail thing he did whenever he was excited or angry or thinking really hard and it was too cute to ignore. He looked like he was working on a particularly troublesome jigsaw puzzle, trying to fit together pieces that all looked exactly the same. Evan couldn't help but smile, overcome by warmth in his chest. 

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" he offered, but Thrush waved a hand at him.

"No, no! I've got it. I can do it." 

Evan had admitted he wasn't actually a very good cook and Thrush had decided on the spot that he was going to start feeding him, and that was that. It was sweet, really, how noticeably neurotic he was, even for a robot. 

That night he woke to a bang as the windows rattled hard, jerking into consciousness with a startled snort. Thrush was apparently already out of defrag, shifting where he lay against his chest to pet his hair back.

"Just a snowstorm," the mech murmured, "Don't worry about it."

Evan sat up, rubbing at his eyes and glanced toward the window. It had already been boarded up for winter, so he couldn't quite see out of it, but he could hear the howling wind outside, the creaking wood structure and the eerie patter of snow striking the roof outside. He wriggled back down, pulling the blanket up to his neck.

Cuddling with Thrush was always a uniquely difficult experience. On one hand, he was sharp in a lot of places, and on the other, depending on the time of day he was either slightly too warm or way too cold. Not to mention the wings. He always felt somewhat guilty when he woke up and realized Thrush was still there. He only needed about three hours of charge to get back to full, but he often stayed longer, even though Evan was asleep. He felt bad for how long his human body had to be unconscious by comparison. 

"I knew there was supposed to be a storm tonight," Evan yawned, "Didn't know the wind was gonna be so bad."

"Amazing that we can build fully autonomous artificial intelligence but we still can't accurately predict the weather," Thrush huffed, "That's nature for you."

"Mmhmm," Evan hummed, giving him a squeeze, "You're warm. Have you been up long?"

"A bit," Thrush admitted, "I noticed you fell out of REM twelve minutes ago, I sort of expected the snow to wake you."

"Aww, you ran your engine just for me? That's sweet," Evan gushed, nuzzling his face against the mech's neck fondly. Thrush huffed, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Thermoregulation is my greatest nemesis," Thrush sighed.

"No worries," Evan assured him, kissing the side of his helm, "I will cuddle you even when you're a popsicle."

"My hero."

Evan continued kissing down the line of his jaw, pulling him closer. "My pillow princess."

"I am not!" Thrush gasped, indignant.

"You can be!" Evan laughed, shifting to roll over top of him, trail of kisses moving to his neck. 

"I can be whatever I wanna be," Thrush pouted, "I'm allowed to be spoiled when I want."

"You sure are," Evan agreed, continuing to mouth down his collar while Thrush looped his arms around his neck with a fond sigh.

"Are you not going back to sleep?" he inquired.

"Not yet."

"Nice," Thrush commented, tail flicking. He buried his fingers in the man's hair. "I'm feeling very pillow princess-y after all, then."

Evan rolled his eyes with a snort and sat up, kissing down his chassis until he had wriggled back between his legs. Thrush pushed himself up to his elbows as the human breathed warm air across his panel, hands on the insides of his thighs. His array opened at the attention, damp with interest.

Thrush let his head drop back with a sigh as Evan licked up between the folds of his entrance and sucked at the sensitive flesh within. 

"God, it's so much better with someone with a mouth," Thrush sighed, "I'm addicted."

Evan paused, only to peek up and raise an eyebrow at him. "Who have you been fucking that doesn't have a mouth?" 

"Mm, no one recently," Thrush hummed, letting his legs fall further apart. He glanced down at Evan, who was still watching him. "What, you didn't think I was a virgin when we met, did you?" 

"Obviously not," Evan scoffed, "I guess I didn't think about it at all, actually." He dipped back down and returned to what he was doing while Thrush hummed his approval.

"Mmm, yeah, it's like, a mail order kit or whatever," Thrush continued, shutting his optic off, "Me and the trine splurged for Christmas like five years ago. Zeph didn't like it though, I think she ended up getting rid of it."

Evan sputtered and looked up. "You had sex with Zephyr?"

Thrush turned his optic down toward him, blinking, "Well I had to test it with someone. Why?"

"I just thought you guys were like- siblings or something," Evan admitted, face pink, "I guess I misread the trine thing."

"I can't have siblings," Thrush blinked, "I'm a robot."

"Well, yeah, but I mean, like-" Evan floundered, "Not literally, but- you just seem like you have a sibling dynamic."

Thrush tilted his helm to the side. "Well. You know all my reference material comes from TV, and I've been warned not to trust that. I wouldn't really know." He paused again in thought. "We're the same model, I guess. I'm a 2055 and she's a 2054, though."

A beat passed before Evan scrambled up to his knees and forward to meet his optic. "You're a what?"

"Uh," said Thrush, "A 2055?"

"As in the year 2055?!"

"Yes?"

"Do you mean to tell me that you're only fifteen years old??" Evan balked, looking horrified. 

Thrush blinked at him. "You're taking this way too seriously." 

"Well, it's kind of serious for me!" 

"Ev, come on," Thrush groaned, "I'm not a human."

"You're pretty close!" 

Thrush rolled his optic and leaned on one hand. "I'm not. You just lack the nuanced frame of reference to compare me to anything else."

"Well-!" Evan started, stopped, and sat back, running a hand over his hair, "In ratios. Lifespans, and stuff."

"Then you definitely shouldn't be comparing me to a human," Thrush said, "I'm like, a hundred in dog years." 

"I can't even imagine how that's relevant," Evan scoffed, "What's a robot lifespan gotta average out to, anyway? Doesn't being made of metal make you functionally immortal?" 

Thrush stared at him, before his optic dilated and he sat all the way up. "You think I'm functionally immortal?" 

It was Evan's turn to blink in confusion. "I mean- are you not?" 

"Evan," Thrush said slowly, "How long after you get a new computer does it get outdated?" 

"Just because it's outdated doesn't mean it dies!" Evan scoffed.

"Yeah, but they stop making parts for it," Thrush went on, "Circuit boards and wires burn out, storage fills up, ram falls behind. Internal hardware can't keep up with software updates." He paused. "You know I'm a computer, right?"

Evan leaned back, hands out. "Of course I know you're a computer! That doesn't make what you're saying any less crazy. Maintaining equipment priorities is different when the equipment is sentient!" He gestured emphatically, overwhelmed by the implications, "What do you think your lifespan is?"

"I'd be happy with twenty-five or so," Thrush answered honestly, "That's how old Riot is." 

"I'm twenty-five!" Evan exclaimed, horrified, "I'm young for a human!"

"Like you said," Thrush told him, "Ratios."

Evan sat back, shoulders sinking. "Fuck that. Some of the computers in Ruby, the old military stuff, is like, seventy years old and still working. Manufacturers might stop making stuff, but if aftermarket parts exist for phones I'm sure they'll start making them on this side of the border for brains."

"Maybe," Thrush shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Why aren't you worried about this?" Evan asked, "Don't you want to live longer than that?" 

"I mean, I can't live longer than that," Thrush pointed out, "I'm not alive. But I'm pretty happy with what I've got! Fifteen is already pretty good for a model like mine, we usually get replaced after like five to seven years- and even then I was never supposed to do stuff I do now like own a house or get a boyfriend! I just- I'm pretty satisfied with what I have. More would be nice, but-"

Evan interrupted him by grabbing the mech and crushing him against his chest, arms around his back and a tremble in his bones. "Stop. Stop talking."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to-" 

"Thrush, so help me God," Evan rasped into his neck, sounding strained, "I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you outlive me." 

"I told you, I'm not really ali-"

"Thrush," Evan shook his head, "stop." 

Outside the storm continued, wind howling like a dark beast that was clawing at the walls and looking for a meal. Thrush set his head down on the human's shoulder, dimming his optic. "Yeah. Alright." 

"It could have been worse," Evan grimaced, standing on their porch in a parka, hands shoved into his pockets. Thrush flicked his tail.

"Could have been better, too," he sighed, "I have a generator in the garage, at least."

"Do you want me to get it?"

"Not yet," Thrush shook his head, "Let's go see if anyone still has power, or if it's just us."

Thrush hopped down the steps and immediately sunk thigh deep into the snow. He glared down at the ground unhappily, then squeaked in surprise when Evan simply picked him up and dropped him on his shoulders.

"I can fly!" he huffed, a little embarrassed.

"You can if you'd rather, but your skinny little legs are not gonna be walking through this very easily."

"Fine," Thrush acquiesced, shifting his weight self consciously. They didn't have to walk far to find a power line snapped in half like a toothpick a few blocks away, crashed directly into the roof of the refinery. 

"Hey, Foxtrot!" Evan called when the mech came into sight, standing outside the building and seemingly initiating her own inspection of the damage, "Are you guys okay?" 

"Fine," she answered without turning, "Crashed the power, though."

"That's not good," Evan fretted, "Do you guys have enough fuel to last everyone until you're back up and running?"

Foxtrot turned and grimaced. "Maybe?"

"Hrrm," Thrush commented, "Maybe no flying is better, after all." 

"You're telling me," Evan mumbled.

"Hey, yeah, where are you?" Thrush asked. Evan frowned.

"I'm right here?" 

"I'm talking to Zeph," Thrush handwaved.

"You've really gotta tell me when you're on the phone, hon, I can't tell," Evan mumbled, embarrassed.

"Yeah, we'll be right there," Thrush continued, and then looked down, "Zephyr needs help fixing a wall." 

"Wow, do I get to see the inside of her bunker?" Evan asked, turning the way to her house.

"It's not a bunker," Thrush hushed him, then paused, "Not technically." 

"It's kind of a bunker," Evan said dubiously, and when they arrived, Thrush found it difficult to argue. What had once been an autogarage was largely unrecognizable anymore, windowless warehouse that it was, surrounded by a barbed wire fence. It looked out of place in the environment, with residential homes on either side of the property. 

"Hey!" Zephyr waved from where she was perching on the roof, leaning forward on her knees, "Your house hold up okay?" 

"Other than the power, yeah!" Thrush called back, "But I think that's down for everyone." 

"Bah," she huffed, before hopping off the roof to glide down and land in the snow with a thump. Evan picked Thrush up and set him down. "You should get a saddle for him."

"Zephyr!" Thrush hissed.

"Oh, come on, that wasn't even mean!" she laughed, tail carving furrows in the snow, "It's very nice of him to indulge you. You're such a brat."

"Yeah, well," Thrush huffed, "You have a hole in a wall somewhere, right?" 

"Right, yes," she nodded, straightening up as she waved at him to follow her around the back, "See? The wind tore off all the siding here."

"Yikes," commented Thrush, inspecting it, "You've got more, right?"

"Yeah, up in the loft."

"I'll go get it," Thrush offered, before he waddled back around the corner through the snow, picking his feet all the way up every time he sank into it. Evan waited until he was out of sight.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Zephyr's antennae swivelled up and she tilted her optic toward him. "Hm?"

"Thrush mentioned something earlier that kind of freaked me out," he told her, "He said you guys will probably only live to be like twenty-five? Is that true?"

Zephyr straightened and then sighed, wings sinking as she shook her head. "Right, well, no. We don't share that opinion. There's fabricators on Proxima already producing replacement parts for supposedly outdated mechae. I really have no idea what kind of lifespan to expect, but a lot longer than that."

"Really?" Evan asked, feeling relieved, "He seemed pretty certain."

Zephyr flicked her tail and folded her wings back, hesitating in thought before she responded again. "Thrush has… a complex about it."

"A complex?" Evan repeated.

"His original owners purchased him on an upgrade plan," Zephyr explained, looking away, "Every five years they got a new security drone. He was their third, so as soon as he came online he knew he was on a time limit. He just got lucky." 

Evan felt stricken, something cold and heavy in his gut that he didn't know how to handle. "That's horrible." 

"Yes, well," Zephyr murmured, glancing toward him and up through a narrowed optic, "Don't forget that he's one of the lucky ones, human."

 Evan was still trying to think of a response to that when Thrush came stomping back around the corner, carrying a sheet of replacement siding. 

"You might wanna step back around the side," Thrush advised him, "We gotta weld this and human eyes don't like that."

"Oh!" Evan straightened up and shuffled back around the corner, facing away. He leaned back against the wall, waiting patiently. After about a minute he frowned, a thought occurring to him. "Hey," he called, "Where's Riot?"

"Not up yet, I assume," Zephyr answered.

"You sure?" Evan asked, "Wasn't it his shift last night?"

"Yeah, but we don't fly during storms. It's not safe." 

"It was worse than predicted," Evan pointed out, "Are you sure he wouldn't have gone before it got bad?"

There was a moment of silence and Evan almost turned the corner when Thrush spoke.

"Yeah, he's not pinging back at home. He's not here." 

Zephyr swore.

"He's gotta be sheltering somewhere," Thrush worried, "Did he message you?" 

"No," Zephyr replied, "The storm would have decreased his comm range. It stopped snowing hours ago, he should have checked in by now if he was going to."

"So what?" Evan asked, "Is he okay?"

"He probably stopped somewhere to shelter and ran out of power," Thrush responded, turning the corner, "We can track him by GPS, but I can't carry him if he's offline." 

"He can fit in a flatbed, right? We can take a truck," Evan suggested.

Thrush crossed his arms, looking embarrassed. "I, uh. I can't drive."

Despite the overwhelming anxiety, Evan tittered an aborted laugh. "What?"

"Why would I need to drive?" Thrush groaned, "I can fly!"

"I can drive," Evan reassured him, "You've got the GPS, and I can drive the truck. We can just go find him. It'll be okay."

"Okay, okay," Thrush sighed, running his hands over his helm, "I'm sure he's fine. I'm sure." He turned around. "Zeph?"

"At least one of us needs to stay here," she responded, "Keep me in the loop." 

Thrush nodded and then grabbed Evan's hand, pulling him along back to the road. "Come on. We can borrow Denny's."

"You're being really quiet," Evan commented, "I'm sure he's alright."

Thrush looked up from where he was staring out the passenger side window. His position was already awkward, wings maneuvered carefully around the seat in the confined space. "I know. I know you're right. I'm just worried. I can't help it."

"Hey, you don't have to," Evan reassured him, dropping one hand from the wheel to slide his fingers around Thrush's own, "You can be worried. It's okay. Nothing wrong with that."

Thrush squeezed his hand but didn't otherwise respond. Evan frowned and looked back at the road, the ongoing stretch of snow covered gravel made it so that he had to constantly double-check to be sure he didn't drive right off of the side. 

"I'm sorry I kind of freaked out last night," Evan said eventually, "It all just caught me off guard. I didn't mean to make it weird."

"You didn't make it weird," Thrush shrugged, "It's okay."

"Are you okay?"

Thrush shrugged.

Evan frowned. "Hey. Come on. What are you thinking?" 

Thrush didn't turn back toward him, still watching the tundra roll by outside the window. "I feel like I've kind of led you on."

"What?" Evan scoffed, "On for what?"

"That I've got a lot of time to promise, or whatever," Thrush mumbled.

"...Zeph said she disagreed with you about your outlook, there," he said, as gently as he could, "That you shouldn't be so sure you're on a strict time limit."

"Maybe."

Evan chewed the inside of his mouth in thought, feeling out of his depth. After a moment he squeezed his hand again. "Hey." Thrush looked back at him. "If you're right, then- it's okay. You didn't lead me on. I'm grateful for whatever I get. Okay?"

Thrush's optic tracked back and forth before the tension went out of his shoulders and he laughed a little awkwardly. "Yeah. Okay."

"At least try to live longer than a horse, will you?" Evan said, and Thrush's antennae swivelled straight up.

"What? How long do horses live?" 

"Like twenty-five, thirty years or so."

"Horses live that long?" Thrush balked, "Bison only live, like, ten to twenty!" 

"Have you never met a horse before?" Evan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No!" 

"Haha, oh, man. I should take you to see some horses."

Thrush looked mildly alarmed. "I dunno. I don't think ungulates like me very much."

"Prey animals don't like anything flying around above them," Evan snorted, "Try walking and I'm sure it will go better."

"What's your experience with horses?" Thrush asked dubiously, "How come you're a horse expert all of a sudden?" 

"Thrush, I'm from backwoods Georgia," Even scoffed, "I grew up around farms. I know how to ride a horse." 

"They're just so big," Thrush mumbled nervously, "I don't know if I could ride one."

"Aw, you weigh as much as a sixth grader," Evan giggled, "You could ride a pony."

Thrush shot him a look. "Hmph. Maybe." 

"Planning the romantic equine date now, babe." 

Thrush rolled his optic. "Turn up here." 

"We should be getting close, right?" Evan asked, leaning forward to see the curve of the road beneath the snow. 

"Yeah, it's not far now, he's pinging just up-"

Thrush cut himself off when the truck lurched forward and down, sending him forward into the dashboard with a thump.

"Ah, fuck," Evan groaned, leaning against the steering wheel, "Goddammit." He sat back, blinking away stars and reached up to rub his forehead where he'd hit the wheel and grimaced. "Are you okay?"

Thrush pushed himself back, gingerly touching the front of his helm where the metal had buckled inward slightly. "Ow." 

"Oh, shit," Evan swore, reaching over, "You bent this. Does that hurt?"

"Well, yeah it hurts," Thrush grumbled, and then sat up and looked over at him properly, "Oh, shit, are you okay? You're changing colour."

"What?" Evan grabbed the mirror and tilted it downward. He could already see the bruise beginning to form on his forehead. "Yeah. That's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Thrush fretted, "That's not a normal colour." 

"That's actually the colour blood's supposed to be," Evan mumbled, pushing the mirror back, "Before it's oxygenated or whatever. Trust me, not a big deal."

"I'm gonna Google it later," Thrush warned him, "So if you're playing it cool I'm going to chew you out for it."

"It's really not a big deal," he assured him, unbuckled his seat belt and wriggled out of the door, plopping down into the snow to step away and inspect the damage.

He'd missed the turn off and gone into a ditch he couldn't see beneath the smooth blanket of snow that evened the road out with the dip on its side. The back wheels were still spinning idly six inches above the ground.

"Well that's not good," Thrush commented, joining him on the road behind the truck. He lashed his tail anxiously. "What do you do when this happens?"

"Call a tow truck, usually," Evan mumbled, "You definitely can't pull it back on the road, can you?"

Thrush narrowed his optic at him and crossed his arms. "Was that a genuine question?" 

Evan shrugged.

"Riot probably could," Thrush posited, "He's only a quarter mile from here. I want to go see about him first no matter what, anyway."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Evan agreed, "Do you want me to carry you?"

"For a quarter mile?" Thrush balked, "No, I can walk." 

Evan eyed him dubiously as the mech stepped out onto the proper road turn off and immediately sunk knee deep into the snow with his tiny legs. He continued to wade through it, unabated, and Evan gave up and followed him.

"How are you looking on fuel, by the way?" Evan asked, "We still don't know when the power will be back up." 

"Well, I've got gasoline for the generator," Thrush said, "So I'm good on electric, at least. Fuel cells, though? Can't refill those on my own." 

"What happens when you run out?" 

"No combustion, no movement," Thrush explained, "Not just flying. You know, think of a car."

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?" Evan fretted, "Wouldn't that save fuel?"

"Only a little." He stumbled through a snowbank that dropped him in up to his waist with a groan. "Fine. But only for the fuel thing, not because I'm short."

"Oh, absolutely," Evan agreed quickly and stopped to let him scramble up onto his back, looping his elbows under his knees. "Keep going straight, then?"

"Yeah," Thrush said, and pointed farther up ahead, "I think it's that barn." 

Evan shifted his hold as the mech set his head down on his shoulder with a huff. The rest of the walk there was quiet, filled only with the gentle thrum of his idling engine against the human's back and the whip-wind through the trees. 

He let him down in front of the door, set ajar in the decrepit structure. Clearly abandoned, it was still holding up well enough to keep the snow off the ground inside, for the most part, but it was obvious no one had used it in years. Evan shouldered the old door open, rusted shutters squealing as he did.

"Riot!" Thrush exclaimed, lurching forward to skid to a halt in the corner where Riot was slouched back against a wall, dark and motionless. 

"Is he alright?" Evan asked nervously, lingering in his approach. Thrush pushed him forward to get to his back and pull open an access hatch, hands moving quickly as he did. Evan shoved his hands into his pockets and swallowed.

"Yeah," Thrush said eventually, "Yeah, he's just out of fuel. He's fine." Thrush sighed. "Come on, dummy, you had to know you were too far to get back home. You're lucky I like you enough to come find you." 

"So what's the plan?" Evan asked, crossing to kneel beside him, "I can't carry him a whole quarter of a mile back to the truck."

Thrush huffed, visibly annoyed, and plopped down on his butt. "I dunno. I'm thinking." 

"Can you-" Evan tapped his chin in thought, "Can you jump him or something?" 

"The electronics aren't the problem, it's the fuel that- ugh," Thrush groaned and set his helm in his hands, elbows on his knees. "Yeah, I guess I've got an idea, actually." 

"Yeah?" 

"I technically brought a change of batteries with me," Thrush said, sounding very unhappy about the notion. 

Evan stared at him for a moment, hamster wheel turning before he grimaced. "That's not your only idea, is it?"

"Unfortunately." 

"Is swapping fuel cells safe?" Evan fretted.

"Yeah, I mean, it's the same as every other time I've changed batteries. We use the same kind. I just hate being offline when I'm not at home. It's kind of nerve-wracking, you know?"

Evan frowned, hesitating in thought. "Do you wanna call Zephyr to bring a change?"

"I don't know if we have any, and I don't want to waste the fuel on the flight," Thrush sighed, "It's the easiest solution. We swap out, Riot pulls the truck out of the ditch, I refuel when we get back."

"I don't want you to do anything that you really don't want to," Evan told him, "I can call a tow truck."

"Yeah, but that could take hours, and it's gonna start snowing again tonight." Thrush shook his head. "It'll be fine. I'll be okay."

"Of course you'll be okay!" Evan assured him quickly, "You're super super sure?"

"Yeah," Thrush said a little more firmly, before he sat back up and shut Riot's back hatch, pushing him back up to pull open his chest plating, revealing the emptied fuel cells within. He gently pulled both out and set them on the ground. "You should swap those with mine, even though they're empty. It'll be easier to carry that way." 

"Alright," Evan responded, "Come here. So you don't fall over." Thrush scooted backwards into his lap and opened his chest plating, dimming his optic. 

"See you later," Thrush sighed, before he tilted his helm down, engine rumbling to a halt as he shut down and went limp. Evan immediately felt uncomfortable, skin crawling from the wrongness of it. Even offline for a defrag, Thrush's body always made some kind of noise, even if it was just a quiet hum. Limp, dark and silent he seemed more like a corpse than anything. Evan made quick work swapping fuel cells out and shutting Thrush's chest cover again. 

Riot's engine whirred and rolled, his optic flickering on as he raised his helm up, blinking.

"Hey," he said, sounding confused.

"Hey, Riot," Evan replied, "How you feeling?" 

"Uh," Riot sat up and stretched his arms, "Fine. Is the storm over?" He looked down and seemed to notice Thrush for the first time. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Evan assured him quickly, "The storm's over. We came to get you, but a power line took out the refinery. I crashed the truck into a ditch a little ways away so Thrush swapped fuel cells with you so you could help me pull it out."

Riot nodded along slowly and then after a few seconds clapped his hands together. "Cool, cool. Makes sense to me." He pushed himself up to his feet and then reached down for Thrush. With a full pang of envy, Evan leaned back and let the larger mech pick him up and carry his limp form under one arm. 

"Uh, come on, the truck is back this way," Evan waved, pushing himself up. Riot hummed an affirmative and followed him out of the barn.

"So, you're definitely, like, a pervert, right?" Riot inquired casually. Evan wheezed.

"What?" 

"Like, you're weird, yeah?" Riot continued, like it was a normal thing to ask.

"I-" Evan floundered, not knowing how to respond to that, "I guess I'm weird."

Riot adjusted his grip on Thrush under his arm. "We could fool around while he's out, if you want."

It took Evan a few seconds to process the proposal. "Excuse me?"

"What, my trinemate gets to fool around with an organic all the time, it's got me curious what the big deal is!" Riot told him, wings fluttering behind him, "He's out like a light. He doesn't have to know."

"What? No!" Evan balked, visibly offended, "What is this, a joke? Some kind of fucked up test? That's a dick thing to pull, man, he's right there- don't you have a girlfriend or something??"

Riot stopped and so did Evan, before the larger mech leaned down and squinted at him, pushing his optic close to his face, inspecting him intently. Evan didn't say anything, uncertain what it was he was looking for.

"Maybe it is a test," Riot posited coolly, "Maybe I threaten to rip your legs off if you don't leave him alone, instead."

Evan's stomach flipped. He hadn't been expecting this today. "Uh," he started, mouth feeling dry. "Well. I guess I'll start building a wheelchair ramp, then," he said, as bravely as he could, the much larger mech staring down at him through a cool, emotionless optic.

Riot continued to stare at him for a moment longer, before he stood back up and laughed. "Alright. Cool, then." With that, he resumed walking, and spoke no more about it. Evan had no idea what that meant.

When they arrived back at the truck, Riot grabbed it one-handed by the hitch and pulled it back onto the road. Evan's stomach flipped again and he kept his distance, lingering anxiously out of arm's reach.

"Are you going to be okay sitting back here?" Evan asked, eyeing the driver's door, "I think there's some ratchet straps in the cab if you want."

"Nah, it's no biggie," Riot assured him, sitting Thrush in his lap like a ragdoll, "I stay put. Just don't drive into any more ditches."

"I'll do my best," Evan promised, still eyeing Thrush nervously. Part of him wanted to buckle him back into the passenger seat, but another part of him didn't want to aggravate Riot any further. Besides, they'd clearly known each other for ages, he had to know what he was doing.

Evan was irrevocably glad to see lights on when he arrived back in Galena, passing through the gate checkpoint and parking the truck back in front of Denny's house. Riot climbed out of the truck bed and the front door of the human's home opened.

"Hey, you're back!" the man called, "I see you brought our boy home."

"Yeah, but now Thrush is taking a nap," Riot chuckled, holding up his trinemate to show him.

"He good?" Denny asked.

"He's just powered down," Evan told him, "I'm really sorry, man, I drove your truck into a ditch. I didn't see anything wrong with it, but-"

Denny scoffed and waved. "No worries. If you broke something you can come help me fix it later. Go wake that boy up, he looks dead and I don't like it."

Evan laughed nervously. "Yeah, yeah, mood." He looked up at Riot, fidgeting before he got his words together. "Can I just carry him? Please?"

Riot's antennae swivelled up and he looked down at the man. "Oh. Yeah, sure." 

"Thank you," Evan said gratefully, taking him in his arms and shifting his head to rest on his shoulder, "You should probably go and tell Zephyr you're not dead, Riot."

Riot snapped his fingers. "Good idea."

Evan carried his partner to the refinery, deeply relieved to be away from Riot. The building was still damaged, but at least now it was patched over with a bright blue tarp and nailed on plywood.

"Hey, Foxtrot, are you here?" Evan asked, pushing the door open with his shoulder.

"Oh, dear, what's going on here?" Copper asked with a whistle, "What happened to him?"

"He ran out of battery," Evan explained, simplifying, "Are you guys back up and running yet?"

"You've got excellent timing," Copper rumbled, "We just came online half an hour ago. I've got a change of batteries for you after all." 

"Oh, thank God," Evan sighed in relief. 

"Make sure you've got his electronics charging before you swap them out again," Copper suggested, and then turned toward the back door. Foxtrot shouldered through it and plopped two fuel cells onto the counter, flashed him a peace sign, and then vanished into the back once more. 

"Tell that boy to take it easy for once, will you?" Copper advised. 

"Yessir," Evan answered, scooping the fuel cells into Thrush's lap before he turned quick to get back home. 

After carting him around like a dead cat all afternoon, Evan was deeply relieved to lay him down in bed and set about finding his charging cable, wriggling out of his parka while he did. He kicked off his shoes and climbed up into the nest to sit back against his thighs, carefully swapping out the old fuel cells for the new ones.

He snapped the cover shut and heard his engine roll as it started up, and a few seconds later, his optic flickered on. Thrush blinked and tilted his helm down toward him and then offered him a lazy wave. Evan sagged in relief.

"Are you okay?" he asked, "Is anything wrong?" 

Thrush pushed himself up and twisted around to look at his back. "Other than a ruined paint job? Fine."

"I'll help you fix it later," Evan promised, "I'm just glad you're back up and moving."

"Good to be back up and moving," Thrush muttered, picking at some scratched paint, "Riot okay?" 

"Oh, yeah. No problems there. Drove him back home and told him to go tell Zephyr he wasn't dead." Evan fidgeted his hands together, "It was really stressing me out, though."

Thrush turned around and leaned back on his hands. "Oh, yeah?"

"You just looked so dead," Evan told him, reaching forward to cup the side of his helm, "I hated it."

"I'm okay," Thrush assured him, letting his optic shut. "No harm done."

"Except for your paint job," Evan smiled fondly.

"Hey. Kiss me. I want to be kissed," Thrush said with a wiggle, and Evan laughed, surging forward to knock him into his back and pepper his helm in kisses. Thrush giggled in delight, wrapping his arms around the human's neck and wagging his tail back and forth against the comforter.

"You know," Evan said slyly, nuzzling the side of Thrush's neck, "Riot threatened to rip my legs off." Thrush froze.

"He what?!"

"Right after he pretended to come on to me," Evan snickered, "He asked me if I was a pervert." 

"God, can they stop," Thrush moaned, burying his optic in his hands, mortified, "I've never once given Riot shit over his weird relationship. Maybe I should start."

"I appreciate his concern," Evan soothed, "But please ask him to let me keep my legs. I need those."

"Ugh. Don't listen to him," Thrush groaned, "He's a weenie. He can pick up a truck but he won't even kill a spider. He's relying on you not knowing him very well to be intimidating." 

"Good to know." 

"Ugh," Thrush sighed, letting his helm think back, "I'm sorry you have to put up with so much. They promised to be good."

"It's okay," Evan soothed, "Yours is not the first family to not like me. I think yours will get over it, though."

Thrush looked back at him and cocked his head to the side. 

"Thrush," Evan snorted, "I'm gay. I don't know if you noticed." 

"Oh! Ohhh, yeah," the mech nodded, "Yeah, yeah, right. I knew that. I did know that. Or, I mean, I figured. I'm not that disconnected from human stuff." He waved a hand, "I watch TV." 

Evan crossed his arms over Thrush's chest. "My first boyfriend's parents hated me. They wanted nothing to do with me. We went to the same school, though, so it wasn't like there was much they could do about it."

"That sucks," Thrush commented. "I should tell Zephyr that. Stuff like that always makes her soft."

"I think she's warming up to me. You know, a little bit." 

"I mean, if it's any consolation, I genuinely think she hates you a little less than any other human she's ever met," Thrush chuckled.

"She likes Denny."

"Oh, no," Thrush snorted, "She does not like Denny. She's just very practical. Zephyr thinks humans all suck, but she also thinks if we kick all the humans out and stop talking to them they'll all suck way more, and that integration is the only way to get humans to stop sucking in the future. She's very good at playing nice when she wants to."

"She has a very nuanced outlook," Evan commented dryly, "I mean I guess I can't blame her. I don't know what her story is."

"Oh, it's not a secret or anything," Thrush responded, shifting to lean on his elbow, "She was owned by the Sunstormers."

"Sunstormers?" Evan repeated, sitting up, "That cult that tried to secede from Texas?"

"Uh huh." 

"What, like, when they tried to secede?"

"No, she left before the big firefight. If she’d been there for that she’d be dead for sure,” Thrush chuckled darkly, “She’s got, like, four illegal weapons mods in her.”

"Jesus," Evan mumbled. 

"Mmhmm," Thrush dimmed his optic, "They had a bunch of drones. Really obsessed with surveillance and stuff, you know the type. Only then they started upgrading to new models."

"And they got rid of her?"

"Nope," Thrush answered, flicking his tail, "They painted big red targets on her wings and took turns shooting her down to practice their aim."

"Oh, god, what?"

"Mmhmm. You wouldn't believe the damage it did to her learning paradigms. I spent hours backpropagating. She was glitched out of her mind when I met her.”

Evan rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

"She shot me, actually."

"She shot you?" Evan gasped.

"Right through the shoulder!" Thrush confirmed, "So it's dumb luck I stumbled into her rewiring a power line before anyone else did."

Evan grimaced. "That's worse than I expected."

Thrush shifted onto his side. “Riot was slated for scrap after he got outmoded. He lucked out that the junkyard he ended up in would rather use him for security than parts.”

The human watched the blades of the ceiling fan rotate slowly before he turned back over and buried his face in Thrush's shoulder. 

"I love you," he murmured, voice muffled. 

Thrush threaded his fingers in his hair, other arm around his back. "I love you, too."

"You know I mean that, right?" Evan asked, sitting back to look him in the optic.

"I do," Thrush blinked.

"But do you know what I mean when I say that?" Evan furrowed his brow, expression serious, "I'm not going anywhere. No outmoding, no replacing, no upgrading. I don't want anything else. Your schematics are on the internet, you know! If I have to solder you a new graphics card or northbridge myself because they stop making them then I'll damn well do it. Twenty five isn't nearly enough. I want you longer than that."

Thrush blinked up at him, looking very small and on the spot suddenly. He tightened his grip on the human's shirt. "I'm just not built to last that long. I can't take it for granted."

"Neither can I!" Evan exclaimed, "Nobody can! We can all die at any second, that's just part of being alive, but- but you can't just assume you won't make it past twenty five or- or you won't. And you should."

Thrush flicked the end of his tail, anxious and tense. "Okay," he said softly, "How about- how about twenty-six, then?"

Evan tittered a breathy laugh despite himself, sagging. "I'll take it. It's a start."

"Don't go anywhere, then," Thrush mumbled, pulling him back down so he could hide his face in his shirt, "I need you."

"I'm not going anywhere without you," Evan whispered, "You guys got priests out this far? I'll sign papers right now."

Thrush sputtered, tail snapping like a whip. "Oh, god, no, not yet, Zephyr will literally murder me if I do something that organic."

"No she won't," Evan said in a breathy chuckle against his audial, "She'll have to get through me first."

"I guess that would make sure I outlived you, by at least twenty seconds or so," Thrush said dryly. Evan laughed.

"In which case I will take the win," he said in an overwhelmingly fond tone, "But maybe another day."

"Another day," Thrush huffed, giving him a squeeze, "I want a real proposal in that case. Something public and very fancy. I insist on being spoiled."

"Okay," Evan agreed, and leaned forward to kiss him softly beneath the optic.