The Storm Between Us (Reed900)

almost forgot a title lmao

Gavin was curled up on the couch with a throw pillow. He was wrapped in a thick wool blanket Conan had found in the closet. His head ached and his throat was sore from sobbing. Detective Reed could smell eggs and pancakes from the kitchen. Slowly, he lifted his head up a bit and glanced at the kitchen. The familiar android was working on breakfast for him.

"Conan?" Gavin mumbled. He said a little louder, "Hey, dipshit, can you get me some ginger ale?" Conan calmly went to the fridge and got out some ginger ale. He went to the living room with a nice tall glass of it.

"How are you feeling, detective?" Conan asked. Gavin shrugged and sat up. The lights were too bright but he didn't want it to be dark. They avoided eye contact, waiting for the other to say something first. Conan sat down next to Gavin, no too close. He sunk into the couch, as if it were about to swallow him whole and into the abyss.

Gavin coughed and wiped his mouth after finishing the ginger ale. "Thanks." He mumbled quietly, breaking the awkward silence. Conan nodded and stood up, heading back to the kitchen to finish making breakfast. The detective followed, not sure what else to do all of a sudden. He was hungry, that was all that mattered.

"I want bacon." Gavin grumbled. Conan frowned.

Conan replied, "There isn't any bacon in the refridgerator. I'm sorry, detective Reed. If you would like, I could order some right now?"

"Oh..." Gavin rubbed his neck. "I guess." Conan's LED turned yellow as he made the order. Then he went back to cooking breakfast. He made up a plate and handed it to Gavin. Awkwardly, the detective went to the counter and sat down in a chair.

He slowly ate, trying not to focus on how focused Conan was when doing anything. Gavin couldn't help but watch him. Every move was calculated, everything thought out, processed, and executed without error. And to think, all he's doing is making pancakes and eggs.

Conan went to the counter with his plate of food and sat next to Gavin. "So," He sighed, "What do you usually do at home, detective?"

Don't say masturbate and cry, don't say masturbate and cry, for the love of God, don't say masturbate and cry. Gavin cleared his throat and replied, "Netflix."

"Hm." Conan got up and went to the fridge for some milk and orange juice. "What do you usually watch?"

"I don't know. Why do you care? Get off my dick." Gavin snapped quickly. After a minute of silence he mumbled, "Old movies. Westerns and stuff."

"That's nice." Conan poured himself some more orange juice.

Gavin asked, "Hey, uh, I thought androids didn't eat food."

"I'm a newer model. To seem more realistic, I have the ability to digest food and then process it into energy for my system." Conan explained, "Almost exactly what humans do." He moved a little closer to Gavin. "Nothing wrong with being human."

Gavin blushed a bit and quickly got up. "I'm gonna, um, uh, I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He rushed off. Conan watched him go.

Conan woke Gavin up at six in the morning the next day. He greeted, "Good morning, Detective Reed. It's partly cloudy today with a 50% chance of rain. There's traffic on the West side of town, so we should take a different route than usual."

"What time is it?" He mumbled.

"Six in the morning. You have to be at work at nine." Conan said.

"Oh fuck off!" Gavin snapped, throwing a pillow at him and curling up in bed. "Wake me up at eight am!"

"The traffic-" Conan was interrupted by Gavin grabbed the tv remote and throwing it at him. Conan dodged, set the remote on the dresser, and left the room to go make breakfast.

Gavin couldn't sleep, not when the smell of sausage and eggs filled the entire apartment. With a groan he got dressed and went to the kitchen. "You little bitch," he snapped.

"Good morning again, detective." Conan smiled, "Ready for work?"

"No." Gavin muttered, grabbing a hair brush from the bathroom. Conan chuckled. As Gavin brushed his hair, Conan folded the blankets that were on the couch and set them aside. He cleaned off a few empty cans of ginger ale from the desk. Gavin called from the bathroom, "You wanna drive, prick?" He asked.

Conan shrugged. "Are your feet broken?"

With a dramatic sigh, Gavin dropped to the ground in the hall. "Oh the pain! Oh my poor bones!" He cried out, "I'm dyin here, Conan!" Conan walked over and crossed his arms. He continued, "My legs! My poor, broken, crippled legs!!!"

The android suddenly got an idea. He quickly scooped up detective Reed in his arms. "Well, I'll have to carry you then. I'll carry you to the car, lie you in the back seat, and have to carry you into the precinct. Of course, everybody will see you in my arms."

Gavin shuddered and quickly squirmed out of Conan's arms. He fell on the floor. "Alright, I get it." Gavin got up.

"Your legs! They're- they're not broken!" Gasped Conan, "It's a miracle!"

"Shut up!" Gavin hissed, shoving past him to get to the coat rack. He put on a leather jacket and grabbed the car keys, tossing them to Conan. Even after that entire argument, he was still going to end up driving for Gavin.

They went outside to the car. It was raining a lot in Detroit that day. Gavin curled up in the passenger seat and put the seat back. He fell asleep and snored while Conan got stuck in traffic.