Chapter Text
Science had never been the courier's strong suit.
It’s kinda hard to make it a priority after getting your brains scrambled. You could say the aftermath of going through such a traumatic brain injury causes a shift in your focus. You have to focus on relearning the basics: walking, talking, cognitive thinking… oh, and getting revenge on the asshole that caused said brain scrambling. That last one is especially very important.
All of those things being a bigger priority is very reasonable! Sure, being skilled in science had its benefits. There definitely were times where they wished they knew how to hack a terminal, but it wasn't needed for survival! If push comes to shove, 90% of their problems related to technology could be solved by finding someone more suitable for the job. Or, you know, by smashing it to smithereens. If they had to guess, the smashing route had a 50% chance of fixing the issue. Although they could be wrong, they weren't exactly a mathematician. Because that also wasn’t exactly needed for survival.
But even so... someone seems to find it crazy that learning how to fix the innards of a souped-up securitron just didn't make it to the top of their priority list. Clearly they were missing out on this groundbreaking skill while they were busy taking control of the mojave. Something they did without knowing what the hell capacitors were, mind you.
And sure, they weren't exactly trying to just survive anymore. At least, they didn't have to worry about it as often now that the strip is under their control, thanks to their army of Mark II securitrons. Now they had time to just exist. Leisurely exist at that.
And surrrrre! Now that they have all this free time, maybe knowing how to repair said army that gives you the chance to just leisurely exist might be beneficial.
Just maybe. Not that they are going to be happy about doing it.
After spending the day playing diplomat, the night was supposed to be spent doing whatever their heart desired. Which was getting shitfaced.
But instead of winding down for the evening, Yes-Man had managed to convince Six to help him with a “simple repair”. All they needed to do was replace a faulty part. ‘They would be in and out’, he said. ‘Just a quick fix’, he said!
Two hours later, Six is still trying to figure how to get the damn thing out.
Everything was just so confusing! To get to the part in need of replacing they had to take off a bulk of his middle framing. Then they needed to take out some circuit-looking thing and all the attachments. It just kept going from there! There were too many unknown parts with unknown purposes inside of this robot!
And it really didn't help that the insides of this specific securitron in particular made ZERO sense. The intricate innards of such advanced robotics were already above Six’s level of understanding. But the inside of Yes-Man’s chassis felt like a step above even that. Yes-Man didn't even look like the models in the old manuals. How on God’s eradicated earth was Six supposed to figure out how to fix the insides of a customized securitron? At least when he had Six practice on the regular securitrons they had photo examples of what the damn things were supposed to look like on the inside. Yes-Mans insides were just a mess! Random dangling wires everywhere that were constantly getting in the way, added components that they couldn't find anywhere in the manuals, and overall it just seemed to be very unorganized. Something that Six knew would bother Yes-Man if he could see his own insides.
But there they were, two hours later, on the floor surrounded by tools, a tempting bottle of whiskey, and their hoard of Programmers Digest magazines that they never bothered opening until recently.
Yes-Man was laying on the floor of the penthouse, internals exposed, with Six straddling his lower half. Currently they're elbow deep inside his frame trying to fish out the screwdriver they dropped inside of him.
“God damn it!” they have one hand holding onto his shoulder as they try to cram their arm deeper in. Six lets out a deep sigh before continuing, “I could’ve gotten you the best mechanic in the wastes, you know that right?”
“I know!” Yes-Man responds quickly. They can practically hear the smile on his screen.
“You also know I'm probably one of the worst people you could've asked to do this, right?”
“I do! But you need to learn somehow.”
They frown in response before remembering he can't see their expression from this angle. They sit back up and frown again, except now with a screwdriver.
“I think you just wanted to torture me, because that's what this feels like. Just one big humiliation ritual.”
They pick up a module off of Yes-Man’s right shoulder and begin flipping to a bookmarked page. Silently trying to compare the part they started unscrewing to the one in the book, they just had to be absolutely positive this was the right part.
“If I wanted to torture you, which I don't, I promise this is the last method i would choose.”
“That just makes it sound like you have a list of methods.” They scoot forward to show him the page. “This is what I'm replacing- right?”
“Yes! That sure is page 235, looks exactly the same way it did 28 minutes ago. Great job Six!” there's a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice.
“Don’t patronize me, asshole.” They resist the urge to throw the book at him, and set the book back down. It’s not like it would hurt him anyway. “I’m just… worried about messing you up. If you want me to learn so badly you could at least reassure me! Without commenting on my methods.”
Or lack thereof.
They lean back into Yes-Man’s open frame and begin unscrewing the part, avoiding getting caught on any loose wires this time.
“I have reassured you. Precisely 4 times now for that same question. Confidence is key, Six.” There's a pause as he waits for six to finish removing the part, “Besides, I have faith in you!”
“Well, I appreciate the faith.” Six raises back up and out of him, “but I do think we should have someone come check out my handiwork- ah fuck.”
The courier hunches their shoulders when they hear the familiar dink of their screwdriver falling back into Yes-Man’s open chassis.
“That won’t be necessary! I would prefer not having strangers probing around inside of me. And, it’s best we not risk having my data compromised.”
Six is back to fishing around for the screwdriver, before giving up and leaning forward to try and get a good look at his screen, “It wouldn’t be a stranger, it would be Raul. He’s chill!”
Six looks away, attention diverted. The whisky bottle they snuck in the toolbox stares at them longingly, and they stare back.
Sigh.
Not yet. Soon, but not yet.
They turn back to Yes Man as they grab the new part off his shoulder, toying it with their hands. It’s some sort of upgraded replacement for his heat sensors. Supposedly it’ll alert him of overheating before it gets too bad. But he made it sound like it would alert him of heat in general. Not exactly sure why that would be beneficial considering the near constant heat in the Mojave Desert.
It’s the desert. It’s hot. They could’ve just told him that instead of doing all of this.
Six personally found it to be a bit silly but hey, who are they to say no to the big guy.
Well. They tried, but he’s rather convincing.
“Also, don’t say probing, that makes it sound weird, Yes-Man.” They take their place back inside of Yes-Man’s core to get that damned screw driver out again. Part of them hoping that bringing the part in with them would lure the screwdriver out.
“Oh my, I apologize if me not wanting to be probed by strangers is weird to you! I’ll make sure to stay quiet next time you suggest that your friend I’ve never met come dig around inside me.” There was nothing playful hiding in his sarcasm this time.
“That’s not what I meant- I’m saying it makes this sound.. sexual. Like, weird freaky alien shit.”
“Well it is rather intimate. I’m all exposed! And vulnerable!” He feigns a laugh, ignoring their last comment, “besides, I wouldn’t let just anybody inside of me, Six. You’re special.”
“Oh fuck off,” They finally reunite with their runaway screwdriver and quickly start the parts installation. They can feel their stomach twist when they make the correlation between what they’re doing and what he’s saying, “Stop making this weird.”
“I mean it! I trust you, Six. I know you’ll take very good care of me.” His voice sounds the way velvet feels. Six tries to ignore it.
“I’m trying too.” They focus on getting the part reattached, instead of the way he’s gently rumbling underneath them now, “but seriously, stop it.”
“Hmm.. I don’t think I know what you’re referring to, Six.”
Oh of course, he doesn’t know what they’re referring to.
“Yes you do.” They huff, the air inside of him was getting stuffy as they struggled to attach the pieces.
“I’m really sure I don’t! Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Well I’m really sure you do! So knock it off! -oh damn it, I think it’s backwards.”
Focus Six, focus. Ignore that nagging feeling long enough to wash the feeling down with the soothing taste of toolbox whisky.
“I just don’t know what's so weird about saying you’d take good care of me.” They can practically hear his smile. Clearly he’s enjoying their struggle, “you are going to take good care of me, aren’t you?”
Six pauses. How does his programming even allow his voice to sound like that?
“It’s not weird you said it, it’s how you said it!” They ignore his question, growing flustered. This wasn't the first time Yes-Man has done this. This being bitterpattering on the line between teasing and flirting. Six isn't entirely sure if he knows that it sounds like he's flirting with them. He probably thinks this is just playful banter, and Six is the weird one for thinking otherwise. Probably.
Just get this over with.
“And how was that?”
“It was- just- ugh forget it.”
Six shuts up to end the conversation. They ignore the way he chuckles. They ignore the blood rushing to their skin's surface. And they try to ignore the nagging thought that they will probably be thinking about that later.
Not probably. Definitely thinking about this later. They need that bottle pronto.
A rush of relief washes over them as the part clicks into place; the right place, this time. Maybe they should've taken the earlier struggle as a sign that the part wasn't supposed to go that way. Just maybe. The circuitry still needed to be attached but now it was ready to be attached. One step closer to being done.
Finally, whisky city is right around the corner, and they could practically taste the inebriation.
Which is exactly what they needed to make this conversation survivable.
Yes-Man lets Six work in silence. Internally, his system alerts him when they’ve successfully connected the new part. The effects aren't immediate but so far it seems the installation was a success.
“Ok, did it work?” Six peaks their head up to look at his screen, waiting for some kind of response, “It lit up, which I assume is a good thing. Right?”
They avoid eye contact with his screen, choosing to instead focus on the mishmash that was Yes-Man’s internals.
“Just waiting on it to finish loading up, you did a great job! Don’t worry.”
“Wait until we know if it actually worked before saying all of that.” They sink down lower into his core again, this time subconsciously.
Damn. He really was a mess on the inside.
They try to silence the voice in their head that keeps repeating Yes-Man’s words.
‘You’ll take very good care of me’
It replays in their head as they begin untangling the loose wires inside of him. They gently pinch their fingers down on a small connected section to smooth them out, before looping them together. More neatly this time. The room is silent other than the whirr of his inner workings, but neither of them seem to mind.
It surprises Six how warm he is, at least on the inside. It makes sense that a machine this big would produce some amount of heat. But it was strange how despite all the titanium and circuitry the warmth made him seem.. human. He already had his own thoughts and feelings, and more recently, free will. All he was really missing was the flesh part.
They keep going, running their fingers through braided tangles before neatly securing them. They blow away some of the dust that had collected inside of him over the years, petting away whatever was leftover. They let their hand linger for a second. Tenderly, they skim their fingers across his framing. And for whatever reason they write their name in the collected dirt.
There was quite a bit that needed fixing that was above Six’s skillset. If they were going to fix this for him, they’d really need to up their game. And get a better toolkit. Maybe even a tool belt, (so they wouldn’t keep dropping that god damn screwdriver). It would be worth it. Sure, they’d hate every minute of it, but it really would all be worth it to be able to take care of him.
To really be able to take care of him.
The sun is setting, washing the penthouse in its soft amber light. It was time to wrap this up. They sit back up, still grasping strands of wires as they do.
“Any update big guy?” they curl the wires between their fingers mindlessly as they wait.
His speaker hisses before he can answer, spooking the courier & making them jolt. They accidentally tug on the twisted cords.
“I-It works. It’s.. running well!” His voice has the same chipper pitch as it always does, but Six does catch onto hesitancy in his response.
“Oh.. ok great. Uh. Are you sure? You don't seem confident.” they begin to uncurl the wires from their finger, pulling gently as they do to release it from their grip.
“I’m very sure.. You’re.. Warm.” He sounds surprisingly quiet. They swear they hear his voice hitch. Can a voice box even do that?
“W-what?” they choke before stopping what they're doing, sitting up to look at him now that their hand is free.
“You’re warm.”
“I- what do you mean?”
“I can ‘feel’ you. Or I guess, I can ‘sense’ you in there.” he pauses, his speaker crackling a bit. It gives the impression that he’s thinking about what to say next, “....What exactly were you doing?”
Probing.
Oh god, they were definitely probing him, weren't they?
Well not really probing but they didn't need to be doing what they were just doing. Especially if he could feel it.
“I was just- it's a mess in here. I’m trying to make it look better. To make it easier. For- For next time.”
For some reason, they feel really stupid. Maybe stupid wasn't the right word for this feeling, but it sure felt similar to stupid. They keep their hands glued to their lap now, suddenly very aware of the position the two have been in for the last two hours. They let out a short exhale, suddenly feeling the need to explain themself.
“I just thought that you'd be bothered by the fact you're so… disorganized. On the inside, I mean. But that was probably a dumb assumption, you've been fine all this time- I um. I’m sorry, what do you mean you can feel me?”
They can’t help but blurt it out. They need to understand what he means.
“I can.. ‘feel’ whatever you're doing. Although, I'm not entirely sure what feeling is supposed to feel like. So truthfully, I’m just making an assumption.” Six can hear him clicking his claws together, something they’ve noticed that he does when he’s nervous.
“....Why didn't you say anything?” They say it quickly; it feels like their face was on fire as they thought about the way they were practically exploring his insides just now.
Yes-Man doesn't immediately answer. But he does reach out to press a claw against the courier's now restless leg.
“I didn’t mind it, it felt… nice?” the claw doesn't move much, it’s just gently pressing into the courier's skin. Like it's trying to soak into them.
“Oh- okay. Cool. Good to know.” they can't seem to focus on anything, and begin clamoring to get this job done, “I’m just- i’ll just put you back together now.”
“Ok… If that's what you want.”
They hesitate before letting themself begin. What does that mean?
Yes-Man continues before the courier can think of an appropriate response.
“..or you...you can finish what you were doing. So it’s easier. For next time. If you want to.” he wraps the singular claw around the meat of their leg, pressing the base of his palm against them. It’s cold, yet gentle.
It feels like pleading.
Six looks down at him, trying to figure out what he is thinking. He’s wearing his normal default expression, despite now having the ability to actually express himself. He’s actively choosing to hide it from them.
“It’s getting late. Maybe we should wrap it up.” Their heart is beating out of their chest, and for whatever reason, they force their legs to settle so he can better press his palm against them. They sense there is something he wants to ask, and they think they know what it is.
“Okay, Six.” he wraps another claw around their leg.
It feels like yearning.
It seems like he’s disappointed.
It really seems like he wants them to keep going.
They try to ignore the growing, knotting feeling deep inside of themself.
They slowly descend back into him and begin again. They can’t help but look at their name written on his frame as they work, thinking about how smooth the metal felt beneath their finger as they did it. They think about what they should say, they think about all the feelings they’ve been trying to ignore for weeks, and they think about Yes-Man.
They think about him wanting them to continue.
Time seems to be moving slowly for the two, or maybe Six was just slow.
Maybe they were just choosing to go slow. Maybe they were choosing to lean into him deeper, choosing to pull on his wires harder, and maybe they were choosing to listen in for the sputtering of his speaker when they did.
Just maybe.
It doesn't take too long before they’re finished. All that was left was to reattach his bulky framing. And as much as their hips ache, they didn't want to tell Yes-Man to let go so that they could. He’s still holding onto their leg, but his grip is tighter than before. Much tighter.
There is a silence between the two, and a tension both of them are refusing to acknowledge. His expression is still stuck in its default state, but Six couldn't help but notice the ERROR screen popping up more and more frequently.
Begrudgingly, they worm their hand in between Yes-Man’s claws and their legs. He hesitates, but gets the hint. He slowly begins to let go of the courier.
Six gets up, not looking at him. They couldn't get themself to look at him. They just reach for his framing and start screwing him back together. Opting to squat instead of mounting him like they were doing previously, because their lower body was aching to feel him beneath them again. Guilt was starting to creep its ugly head up into view as they think about how good the rumbling securitron had started to feel beneath them.
They move slowly, sometimes just pretending to be doing something. They find themself lost in thought wondering if he could feel them touching him on the outside, too.
“Six?”
The static in his voice brought them back to reality.
They take their hands off of him, quickly.
“Yes?”
“Will there be… Can there be a next time? Soon?”
“If.. that's what you want.” They hesitate before continuing, “Would you want that?”
“I would.”
He didn’t hesitate, which gives the courier some weird sense of relief.
So they think about his earlier words.
“Okay. I’ll take good care of you.”