How do the androids respond to a little nose boop from someone they like? A little bit of a beep, even?
Nash you bring me so much joy. What a soul read this was. Also I just realized the irony of using a wey-yu divider on the last androids post when Ash isn't even wey-yu. Giggling abt it
Divider by @/sinisterexaggerator
You jolt at the sound of Ash’s voice- a low rumble next to your right ear as you slump at your station on the bridge. You quickly rub some of the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to sit up, muttering your thanks. The android nods, still bent at the waist so his face is level with yours. As you turn toward him to take your drink, he jerks forward and firmly presses his lips to yours. His kisses are something you’re still getting used to. They’re always short, always in private, and always insistent- the eagerness with which he gives them leaves little room for you to doubt his affection. As usual, the quick gesture leaves you breathless.
Ash leans back just enough to be able to look at you and mutters, “Apologies. I’m sure you weren’t expecting that at 2:36 in the morning.”
You grin and reach up to boop his nose with your pointer finger as you coo, “Always unexpected, but never unwelcome.”
The android’s face twitches, momentarily scrunching up in a way that makes him strongly resemble a rabbit, and you have to bite back a laugh as he tries to process what just happened. At length, he sighs and gives your your mug before moving to lean against the chair across from you.
“Is there an intent behind that gesture, or must I place yet another mannerism of yours into the ‘meaningless’ category?”
“What the hell is in the ‘meaningless’ category?” You squawk, face contorting into an affronted frown.
Ash’s eyes dart left and right as he flips through said folder, muttering, “Hand flaps, any sort of tapping, humming, bouncing your leg-”
“First of all,” You interject, “That folder needs to be renamed to ‘fidgeting.’ Secondly, you boop someone's nose when you think that something's cute or adorable or loveable.”
Ash seems to latch on to that last word, blinking rapidly as he echoes, “Loveable?”
“Yeah,” You shrug, “Like you.”
The androids hands clench the armrest of the chair, and something creaks dangerously under the pressure, “You think-”
“I know.” You insist, unfazed by Ash’s response, and turn to gaze out at the stars as you take your first sip of coffee, “And don’t tell me you weren’t expecting it.”
You completely miss the android’s hesitant, fond smile as he stares at your profile in the starlight and murmurs, “I wasn’t.”
You stand up from your stool and move away from Bishop’s temporary workstation, peeling off your borrowed gloves and apron and tossing them into one of the many biohazard bins that are haphazardly scattered around the Hadley’s Hope medical lab. The long, terrifying day is catching up to you- you push your safety glasses up on top of your head and stretch, letting out an involuntary yawn.
“There are cots in the examination room,” Bishop murmurs, eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning to the dissected creature on the table, “And a space heater, according to Ripley.”
“What about you? I don’t want to leave you alone in here.” You quietly insist.
“I can see you through the windows, and we both know who actually needs sleep out of the two of us.”
You sigh and open your mouth to argue more, but you’re given pause as the android swiftly stands and abandons his work in favor of approaching and offering a hand to you.
“I’ll escort you there myself if it means you’ll actually follow orders.” He jokes, lips curling into a faint smile.
“Fine. But only because it’s you.”
You step forward and take the proffered hand, but not before reaching up and gently bopping the end of his nose with your free hand. His eyes cross momentarily, tracking the quick approach and retreat of your finger. His head tilts to the right, and the crease between his brows deepens as he frowns at you.
“A lot of people do it when they think something’s cute.” You shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious under the sudden scrutiny.
Bishop hums in acknowledgment (but not understanding- he’ll need to ask more questions to reach that point) and absentmindedly runs his thumb over your knuckles as he leads you toward the exam room. It’s dark, save for the faint orange glow of the space heater next to an empty cot. You plop down onto the bed and stare tiredly up at him.
“Get some sleep,” He murmurs, “Have dreams.”
You close your eyes and have just started to snort at his well-meaning comment when something cold taps the end of your nose. Your eyes fly open in surprise- just in time to see Bishop straightening up and examining the finger that he just booped you with. His eyes sparkle with something like amusement before he turns away from you and exits the room, the door sliding quietly closed behind him.
“I find it difficult to believe that she’d leave Rick over such a trivial misunderstanding,” David murmurs, brows pinching together as he stares at the film being projected on the opposite wall, “Surely telephone communications still existed at the time- a simple phone call would have sufficed.”
“That’s not the point,” You laugh, watching the movie in your periphery while you section off another segment of his hair and apply bleach to the roots, “The point is that he’s a coward, and she doesn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t share her morals.”
“Then, further into this film, does he-”
“It’ll explain itself in, like, half an hour.”
You’re able to sit in relative silence for all of ten minutes, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of sectioning and bleaching the rest of David’s hair. He sits perfectly still for the process, occasionally offering you the bowl of popcorn. It’s only once you’ve started on the last section of his head that he speaks again.
“I see how this is going to play out,” David says, sounding incredibly smug, “He’s going to have a sudden change of morals- likely due to his lingering feelings for her- and-”
“Just watch the damned movie, David.”
You set the bleach brush down and reach around the android to boop his nose in a mocking sort of reprimand, but nimble fingers encircle your wrist before you can touch him. You gasp, momentarily tensing at the android’s sudden display of speed. David slowly turns your arm until the back of your hand is facing him, and you shiver at the feeling of his lukewarm breath fanning over your skin as he seems to examine your fingers.
“These are chipped again,” He murmurs, and your expression clears as you realize that he’s referring to your nails, “I shall have to refinish them this week.”
“You don’t- you don’t have to-” You sputter.
David turns his head to look at you, the action smooth and deliberate, and says, “I would like to. Just as you like to assist me with my own cosmetic activities.”
“But, I have more down time than you,” You start, trying to shrug and finding it difficult while still in his grasp, “I don’t want you to waste it-”
“It would not be wasted,” He insists, his voice dropping to a lower register that brooks no argument, “Time spent with you is never time wasted.”
You still want to argue- not wanting to take up time or space- and your eyes flick up and to the right as you wrestle with your uncertainty. Your train of thought is effectively cut off, however, as the android begins to lean toward, giving you a smile that reminds you of a predator eyeing its prey. The hand around your wrist tugs lightly until you’re forced to bend at the waist, and it feels like your heart’s about to beat out of your chest as David's fathomless blue eyes bore into yours. Your breath stutters in your lungs as the android’s lips ghost over yours.
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