notes: finished rewatching overdrive; had a lot of questions about how sex works for androids. this did not answer any of them, but i tried.


i've got fire for a heart (i'm not scared of the dark)

if i didn't have you there would be nothing left
the shell of a man who could never be his best
if i didn't have you, i'd never see the sun
you taught me how to be someone

— one direction, drag me down


The night before everyone sets out to leave on their new adventures, he lies awake in his room, tossing a ball at the ceiling and listening to the sound. One two, one two, one two.

If he times it right, it sounds like his heartbeat. One two, one two, one two. Over and over again. The rhythm echoes in his mind, vibrant and delighted and alive.

Knock-knock.

Two knocks, in tandem. He jumps a little, sitting up straight as the door swings open. He knows who it is – Rose is the only one who ever bothers to knock around the house, aside from Spencer who's already asleep, and she's the only one who visits him at this hour. She pauses in the doorway, taking him in, like she still can't believe he's real and there and in front of her.

He can't blame her; sometimes, he still doesn't believe it himself.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asks as she quietly shuts the door behind her and steps in.

"Couldn't sleep," she says with a grin, coming over and sitting down on his bed next to him. It's their usual excuse for meeting up in the middle of the night – sometimes in his room, sometimes in hers, sometimes in the main room. They never do anything besides talk until they decide to actually go to sleep, but it helps with the insomnia. "You?"

"Just breathing," he admits, tossing his ball over to his cluttered desk. "It's still weird to realize that I can – I mean I always thought I could, but I guess I never noticed that I wasn't… not really, you know? But now I can."

Rose laughs, probably at the look on his face, and reaches over to flick on his bedside lamp so her face is illuminated in the soft golden glow. "It was really scary when you stopped," she admits, looking down at her lap to play with her hands. "Back there, on the battlefield – I noticed you first, and it was like – like you were dead."

Mack reaches over, secures her hands in his, tries not to think about how she must have felt, seeing him face down on the floor, not breathing, not living. "I wasn't," he reminds her, sliding his fingers across her palm. "I wasn't even alive back then. But I am now."

She shakes her head. "I know you think that you weren't alive when you were an android but – but you were," she says, looking up at him through her lashes. He frowns at her in confusion. "To us, to me, you were always alive."

Her words trail off in a sigh as he searches for a response. "Sorry," she mutters, pulling her hands out of his. The lack of warmth spreads through his body; another side effect of being human he hadn't noticed before. "That's a bit heavy. I just came to see how you were doing."

"Oh," he says, settling his hands on the blanket beneath them, fumbling a bit to find something to do with them. "I'm good – I'm great. Dad says he's gonna take me on his next trip. I finally get to be an adventurer!"

"That's amazing," she says genuinely, smiling when he beams at her. "I'm so happy for you, Mack."

"Yeah," he says, voice dropping as he remembers what that means – their next trip will only be once Operation Overdrive was finished, which means when everybody leaves. "Thanks. What about you? I know everybody's leaving tomorrow, but nobody will tell me where they're going."

"Oh, I think you can guess," she says, pushing his arm. It still doesn't hurt – his super strength has remained, but he pretends to wince anyway. "But it'll be a surprise tomorrow morning."

Mack laughs, but it fades into a sigh. "I'm going to miss you guys."

"We're going to miss you, too," she says, smiling wistfully at him. His lamplight makes her look gold, her skin warm and her eyes bright. His breath goes down in a swallow at the sight. "Operation Overdrive has been – the best part of my life. I don't think anything will ever be better."

"Nothing?" he asks teasingly. "Not even being a child prodigy, going to college at age eight, teaching at Oxford and Cambridge by age eighteen – "

"Nothing," she repeats, giggling, and knocks her shoulder into his to shut him up. He laughs and leans back, bracing his palms on the bed and tilting his head to look at her. "Mack?"

"Hm?"

"You'll keep in touch, right?" Her voice has dropped, softening around the edges. It occurs to him to wonder how many people missed her when she uprooted her life to go to college in Britain when she was eight.

"Are you kidding? I'm gonna fly out and tell you all about the stuff I'm doing every weekend," he says, nudging her so she smiles at him. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Rose."

She laughs, ducking her head. "Good," she says. "I wouldn't want to."

He leans over, just close enough that his proximity makes her look up. "Can I try something? Before you leave – I've just never… never been able to, before."

Her eyes widen, but she nods. "Yeah, what did you want to – oh," she breathes right before he kisses her. He's careful, not quite knowing where to put anything, but she cups his face in one hand and guides him into a better angle, keeping her lips soft and sweet over his. She doesn't deepen the kiss, and he doesn't know how to, but she keeps her hand on his cheek when they pull away.

"You've never – ?" she begins, biting her lip, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. He shifts as the desire to kiss her again bubbles up inside him.

"I'm two years old, Rose," he mutters, half joking and half serious. A breathless laugh escapes her, her fingers sliding down his face and dropping to his shoulders.

"That's kind of a mood-killer, you know," she muses, and Mack raises an eyebrow.

"There was a mood?"

"Shut up and kiss me again," she laughs, and he grins and obliges, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her closer. This time, he has a better idea of what he's doing, though he still waits for her to open her mouth first. She tastes like her peppermint toothpaste, and he has a split second's panic that he might have forgotten to brush his teeth and what if she doesn't like his kissing and –

And then she pushes him over, gently enough not to startle him, his arms around her body pulling him down with him, and she certainly doesn't seem to mind kissing him, so he keeps doing it. It's messy and probably a little wetter than it's supposed to be, but her lips feel good on his, and he doesn't want to stop.

He does break away at some point to ask her, "Have you done this before?"

Rose pauses, running her tongue over her lips. He tracks the movement without meaning to, heat flushing his body as he does. "A few times, yeah."

"Oh," he says, though the admission doesn't bother him as much as he thought it would, and pulls her in closer. "So, you'll tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, right?"

She laughs and kisses him again. "You're not doing anything wrong," she promises, freeing one hand to cover his and sliding it down her waist until he reaches the hem of her pink shirt. "If you want to stop – "

"No," he says quickly, gulping as he experimentally edges his fingers up her shirt. Her skin is smooth and warm under his touch, and it sends a whole new flurry of sensations dancing through him. "Are you kidding? I've wanted this all year, I just never had – the idea – ?"

He pauses, searching for the word. Rose slips her own hand up his shirt, effectively distracting him from finishing the thought, which she does for him. "The sex drive?" she suggests with an amused smile.

"Yeah, that," he says, his laugh catching in his throat as she runs her fingers over his chest. "What about you?"

"Are you asking me if I was attracted to an android?" she teases, and he rolls his eyes, trying not to smile as he pushes himself up and over so he's balancing on top of her.

"Are you telling me you weren't?" he retorts, leaning down to kiss her, careful not to crush her beneath his weight. He doesn't think he could, anyway, not with her hands on his skin keeping his body steady above her.

"Mack," she laughs, opening her mouth to say something else just as he slides over to kiss his way down her neck. Her laughter fades into a sigh, her fingers coming up his body and tangling in his hair.

"Is that a yes?" he asks, smiling as he comes up from her skin so he can take her shirt off properly. Her fingers skim down over his jaw, his cheeks, tracing his lips, and his mouth goes dry as he looks at her.

"That's a stop talking and come back down here," Rose murmurs and tugs on his shirt. He tumbles gracelessly down over her, but she rolls them over so he doesn't hurt her and kisses him until the world outside is a hazy memory.

Nothing seems real except her kiss and her touch and the way she looks in the light of his bedroom lamp, soft and golden and glowing.