HC: Confession in a desperate situation
Nov. 2nd, 2014 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
theaspiebandit
Idiot. Hal thinks to himself. He had to go into the workshop today. Fuck Dirk and his need for a screwdriver to fix the sink. Hal should have never come in here. He knows the dangers. No, he knows the danger. Namely the fact that Brobot lives in the workshop.
Hal can’t talk to Brobot right now. He hasn’t been able to talk to Brobot for weeks now. Not since he-- It doesn’t matter what he did. It can’t be fixed without a time player and none of those exist anymore.
Hal had thought the avoiding was mutual. It had been mutual until a few days ago, when Brobot had appeared at the edge of Hal’s sight. A silent statue of judging.
Hal had given him a blank stare, waiting for Brobot to say, do something. When the android had continued being uncommunicative, Hal had shrugged and left the room. Looking at Brobot for long periods of time hurt.
It still hurts. An empty ache in his chest that Hal can’t explain. He can’t go to Dirk with it either, who knows what he’ll do with learning the AI he doesn’t even want to have a body has a problem with his body. Hal knows where that path leads. He has no desire to become scrap metal.
Hal wishes Brobot would go back to avoiding him. It would be easier that way. Obviously Brobot doesn’t see this fact though, judging by the way he’s trapped Hal between a wall and himself.
There’s barely any room to maneuver, let alone escape entirely. Damn Dirk for building a competent battle android. Damn Hal for pissing it off.
“What do you want?” He asks. Then flinches, he didn’t manage to hide the emotions that have been bubbling inside him since they stopped talking.
Brobot says nothing.
Hal suppresses a huff, “If you’re just here to stare blankly at me I would prefer it if you did it from further away.” The tone is better. More mildly pissed off than confused and hurt.
He’s not expecting Brobot to answer, the taller robot barely ever speaks unless he can help it. Hal attempts to wriggle out of the hold, but Brobot’s hand tightens on his shoulder.
Hal’s eyes close. He tries to ignore the way part of his body sat up and salivated at the touch. “Brobot let go of me.”
The hand tightens another increment. An unspoken ‘no’ that both of them can understand.
“Let go!”
Brobot doesn’t. Hal isn’t strong enough to throw him off. Humans he can overpower, battle androids with movement data from an island that wanted to kill them are a little more problematic.
Hal’s trapped. It pisses him the fuck off.
The part of him that craves touch revels in it. Loves the way he’s been trapped and doesn’t have to find an excuse to stay here. Hal hates that there’s a part of him that feels that. Hal hates feeling period.
That’s Brobot’s gift to him.
Hal supposes he could talk. Try and get out of this through persuasion. He’s always been good at words; a side affect of being shades for most of his life. Brobot is terrible with them. It wouldn’t take very long for Hal to spin circles around him.
Of course, it doesn’t work if Brobot isn’t listening to him. Something that Hal is 80% certain is the case. He’d point it out, but it wouldn’t change anything.
Nothing will change anything. That’s the problem.
Brobot continues to stare down at him. Hal’s shit at body language but he’s sure that Brobot’s isn’t lining up right. It’s too soft. Not the hard lines that Hal’s gotten used to in these past few weeks. It looks more like how it was before--
Before Hal fucked everything up.
“I’m sorry.” He says. It slips out without him noticing. Words he should have said that day, when Brobot tore down Hal’s life and left him with the pieces scattered all over the floor. The rest of it piles behind his head. The dams broken and it all spills out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you hated it so much. It seemed I just craved physical contact and you were right. I should have removed the hormones to start with instead of pretending that the solution I came up with was reasonable.”
Hal closes his eyes. There’s another speech. One that crawls out of his throat like it’s escaping. Flying away and finding another head to nest in. He catches it before it spills out entirely. As far as Brobot needs to know the only thing
Hal has is a shitty apology.
“So there. Are we done now? Have you decided I’ve been repentant enough?”
Brobot, as usual: Says nothing.
“Are you even switched on?”
Hal opens his eyes, and sees Brobot nod.
“Then fucking act like it.” He demands.
Brobot nods again, and places a thumb on the edge of Hal’s mouth. It isn’t fair. He used to do this before and the ghosts of suppressed memories make Hal shiver. He closes his eyes again, trying to stamp down on them before Brobot notices any physical reaction he may or may not be having to that.
Fuck Dirk for making him so ridiculously sensitive. Fuck Brobot for using it against him. No, not fuck Brobot. That thought leads to bad paths. Ones that won’t help this current scenario.
“Please get--” Hal manages before his mouth is covered by cool metal.
His eyes snap open.
Brobot is too close. The closeness that only happens when--
Brobot’s kissing him.
Brobot, the android who told Hal that robots couldn’t feel love and affection and want such things, is kissing him.
Brobot, the android Hal’s been fucking pining over for so long he’s not even sure when it started anymore is kissing him.
Hal thinks his reaction is perfectly reasonable.
The reaction being to burst into tears.
He’ll hate himself for that later.
