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remycantwrite · 5 months ago

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Heart(h) and Home

Well, I blame @cosmique-oddity for this one. Got shown one too many amazing fanarts, and after that, I just had to check out j-decker for myself. And here I am.

So, here's one of the several new ships I've got rattling around my brain because of this show! It's highly likely I'll write something for the others too, but for now, here's some McCrane/Seia fluff and yearning.

They don’t talk about it. Even after the destruction of Inti itself, the ruin it brought still remained, and there wasn’t any time to stop and rest for days after, let alone have that sort of conversation. Both of them were tied up in relief efforts - Seia dealing with panicked and confused civilians while the braves handled the heavy lifting – and by the time the entire thing was over, it just didn’t feel fitting to bring it up again.

Don’t get McCrane wrong, he wants to, he absolutely does, but- he also has no idea what to even say. Hello Seia, would you perhaps like to kiss me again, this time when we’re both in our right minds and away from any life-or-death situations? Just the thought itself makes him want to find a hole to crawl into and sit there until his circuits rust.

So, like a coward, he doesn’t bring it up. And since neither does she, things sort of- go back to normal. For the most part, at least.

In the following months, he finds himself… looking at her more often than before. Seemingly out of his control, his optics linger on the glint of sunlight in her hair, or her confident stride, or the glossy red paint she wears on her lips. It’s a distraction to say the least, messy and confusing and overall inconvenient, but he just can’t seem to tear his processor away from her. He derives a small comfort from knowing she has the same issue, logging the increased frequency of her deep blue eyes straying in his direction, but nothing really comes of it. At least, not until the panda incident, that is.

After the giant genetic accident of a creature wades off into the sunset, about to become someone else’s problem, their little group begins wandering off one by one until, soon enough, he and Seia are the only ones left. The woman hasn’t moved in a while, sitting comfortably in the sand with only her jacket underneath her. Unsure what to do but not wanting to leave her yet, McCrane takes the few steps necessary to stand by her side, walking as softly as his heavy frame allows. Still, it seems to rouse Seia back to awareness, and she turns to look up at him.

“Oh, sorry, I seem to have gotten a bit lost in thought,” she says softly, having to bend her neck at an uncomfortable angle, and McCrane quickly lowers himself into the sand beside her.

“It’s no problem. Are you-“ he hesitates, “-feeling alright?”

Here, she sighs, face contorting into an irritated grimace as she runs a hand through her smooth, glossy hair. McCrane tries and fails not to follow the movement with his optics. “Yes, I’m fine, it’s just- it’s been quite the week, you know? There’s been a lot of tension in command lately, several men in my squadron have come down hard with bronchitis, and now this absolute-“ she pauses, seemingly swallowing down the rest of her sentence, before continuing much more evenly, “Thank you for asking, but I’ll be okay, really.”

“I’m glad,” says McCrane, though a small, concerned frown tugs at his face. “Still, maybe try to get some rest?”

Seia laughs. “I will, don’t worry. Oh, actually,” she says, standing up and shaking some sand off of her pants, “could I ask you for a favor, McCrane?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately, eager to prolong this little moment they’ve found themselves in.

“Could you give me a ride home?”

Something in his circuits flutters with quiet joy at hearing a request so pleasant. “I’d be happy to,” he says, and her answering smile makes him feel warm inside.

They make their way back to the road, McCrane slowing his steps practically on autopilot as to not get too far ahead of Seia before transforming once his pedes hit the pavement. Opening his door, he feels her hop in with one smooth, practiced movement, and she settles in his driver’s seat, sighing quietly.

“Nanamagari primary base, then?” McCrane asks as he shuts his door and engages his engine.

“Oh, no,” blinks Seia, shaking her head, “my actual home, please. 3749 Mizaki street, if you could. Or should I give you directions?”

It takes less than a second to look up the location via GPS, and he pulls out onto the open road, little bits of sand still crunching under his tires. “No need, I see it. But thank you.”

“No, thank you,” says Seia, with a small smile aimed at where his internal camera is.

Fow a while, they drive in silence, McCrane navigating the highway without issue. The quiet is comfortable, easy, and he takes the time to observe Seia up close in a rare moment of peace.

McCrane doesn’t ferry passengers very often. It’s Deckerd who’s basically everyone’s designated driver, serving as a family car for Yuuta’s family and whoever else needs to get somewhere alongside the Braves on missions. What it mostly means for McCrane, is that the slightly odd feeling of humans sitting in his cab has yet to wear off in face of familiarity. He doesn’t mind it, though, and definitely not when it’s Seia.

She’s an exception to a lot of things, he finds.

“I thought you lived at the base,” he speaks up after a while, breaking Seia out of her reverie.

“Well, I do, for the most part,” she says, “but I do have an actual house, on the edge of the city. It’s an inheritance from my parents, and while I do spend most of my time on base nowadays, I still go back there on my days off.”

“Does your brother live there with you?”

“Ah, no, just me. He’s married, moved out about two years ago.”

McCrane contemplates this, mulling the concepts over in his processor. Parents. Houses. Marriage. Especially the last one.

“Must be interesting, having a place of your own.” he says idly, not really meaning anything by it. Something about it seems to set Seia off though, because she frowns, seeking out his internal camera with her eyes.

“Hm, I suppose I- haven’t thought about it before, but what do your quarters look like? Where do you live?”

“Ah, it’s not quarters, exactly?” he says, thinking how to best describe it in human terms. “We each have a cubicle in the repair bay, and we usually power down there, so the mechanics can perform maintenance while we’re not moving. That aside, I usually just lock down my servos and recharge at my desk,” he chuckles, “it’s more convenient anyway. With how frequent the emergencies around here are, it saves on time.”

Seia doesn’t seem to find his attempt at easing the mood very funny, though, only frowning further. It makes him feel all sorts of awkward, the calm atmosphere from before turning into something more- somber, maybe? She’s not always easy to read.

At least he doesn’t have time to put his metaphorical foot in his mouth any further, luckily- the GPS in his processor lets out a cheery little jingle, informing him of their arrival at his selected destination.

“We’re here,” he says, watching Seia blink in surprise before turning his attention on the area around him.

It’s a- well, it’s a house, really. He doesn’t know much about them, but it looks nice; painted a neutral orange, fairly large by human standards but much smaller than the station he’s spent all of his life in. Surrounded on both sides by fairly similar looking buildings, there’s little that makes it stand out, though he notices the mailbox is overflowing.

Seia’s movement in his cabin drags his focus back to her, as is the usual these days, and he opens the door for her to get out. Once she does, stretching her slim, elegant arms above her head in a movement he struggles not to follow, her previously contemplative expression turns into a smile.

“Thank you for the ride, McCrane,” she says, her small, warm hand patting him on the hood. “I appreciate it.”

Thrumming his engine a tad louder in the closest thing he’s got to a smile in altmode, he replies, “Any time. I’m always glad to help.”

Seia laughs, shaking her head at him fondly. “You’re too kind, McCrane.” As she turns to walk away, McCrane prepares to drive back to the station, when suddenly, she freezes in place. Before he gets to ask what’s wrong, she’s already coming back his way with quick, resolute footsteps. Then, laying both hands against his hood, she leans down, pressing a quick kiss to the metal in between.

McCrane’s engine sputters.

“Goodnight, McCrane,” she says, throwing him one last smile before turning once again, disappearing through the door and into her house. And though the sky has long since gone dark, he could swear he saw a blush on her face.

For a while, he can’t tell how long, he just- sits there. Then, when he eventually manages to put himself together enough to drive away, he nearly runs three red lights before reaching the station. He hopes nobody saw him, but as it is, he’s somewhat unable to care either way at the moment.

Transforming in front of the underground garage entrance, he catches a reflection of himself in one of the station’s windows. Like a brand, the tiny red lipstick print sits straight in the center of his chest, right above where his AI chip is hidden under layers of protective armor. Something inside him sparks at the sight, his engine skipping several beats as he stares at it, filled with a powerful emotion he struggles to identify.

In a daze, he walks through the mech-sized passages in the station, not really processing much at all. Just as he’s about to reach his desk, preparing to settle in for a long night of filing sitreps, he’s met by Drillboy’s excited face rushing in the opposite direction.

“Hi McCrane!” he calls out, his beloved soccer ball held to his chest. “You’ve been gone for a while, we were wondering where you went! What have- oh, hey!” he says, reaching out a quick servo towards McCrane’s chestplate faster than he can move away. With a few clumsy wipes of his palm, the mech smears the mark on his chest away into a vague red blur. “You had a little something there. Did someone get hurt near you? It was red, maybe blood? Well, anyway- I’ll be going, bye!”

It's only by using every iota of willpower left in his frame that he doesn’t deck Drillboy in the face right then and there. “Thanks,” he forces through gritted teeth, letting the other brave scamper away to do- whatever it is he’s going to do.

Well- at least it saves him the dilemma of deciding what to do with the mark, he supposes. Reaching for the polishing cloth he keeps on his desk, he gingerly wipes away what remains of the lipstick print, until no visible evidence remains. Looking at tiny smear of red on the cloth, he frowns to himself. As… incriminating as it was, there’s a sizable part of him that’s sad to see it gone.

Though, as he sits behind his desk, the chair letting out its usual groaning sound, he swears he can still feel it- a little point of warmth, right over his mechanical heart.

Something between them shifts, after that day. They still haven’t really talked about any of it, but there’s a notable closeness that hadn’t been there before, or at least not that openly.

They touch a lot more now, for one. Not in an… inappropriate way, of course, but McCrane gets very familiar with the feeling of Seia’s small, warm hand against the metal of his frame. And yet, no matter how frequently it happens, it doesn’t get old; the easy, affectionate pats and touches causing a warmth to bloom deep in his chest, every single time without fail. It’s a change he very much cherishes.

In turn, he feels more confident in returning the favor, now that he knows his presence is- welcome, in that way. Nothing too daring, but more and more often he finds himself running a gentle, careful finger down her back, or patting her on the shoulder when saying goodbye. He also offers her rides more, whether it be in his alt mode or just on his arm, and she always accepts with a smile that makes his circuits spark pleasantly.

Then there’s also the matter of her hair, which draws his optic with an alarming frequency, but he has yet to muster up the courage to ask if he could actually touch it. While he does know what human hair feels like – he’s playfully patted Yuuta on the head a few times before – it’s not the same, not really. Yuuta’s is short, looking like a different texture altogether, not to mention he knows for a fact the boy only washes with any measure of regularity because his sister makes him. It’s quite the difference from Seia’s long, shiny locks.

One day, hopefully. There’s been a lot of one days rattling around his processor lately, one more embarrassing than the last, but he keeps pushing them aside. It wouldn’t do to presume, after all.

As it is, though, he doesn’t get the time to really dwell on it much. The mess that is interpersonal relationship aside, the regular, work-related messes hadn’t slowed down either. If anything, he’d say they only increased in frequency, much to everyone’s collective misery. It feels like every other day there’s a new megalomaniac asshole with big plans and bigger guns, forcing everyone out into the field much more frequently than ever before. Everyone’s been feeling rather tetchy, exhaustion wearing their patience thin and causing arguments to erupt, which only succeeds in making everything worse.

It's after yet a day like this, once the battle is won with the villain de jour already in cuffs and smoking rubble all around them, that he approaches Seia, once again offering her a ride home. When she immediately accepts, throwing him a tired but grateful smile while climbing up into his cab, he feels something inside of him settle.

They don’t really talk much, this time around. Seia is exhausted, her clothes dirtied and her injured arm held to her chest- just a cut, nothing truly serious, luckily, but uncomfortable all the same. McCrane drives through the darkened streets as quickly as possible, navigating towards her house without issue, enjoying the feeling of her small body in his seat. Still, they were on the other side of the city, and by the time he’s crossing into Seia’s driveway an hour later, the woman is fast asleep.

Stopping just in front of her garage door, McCrane can’t help but take a few moments to just… look at her. Sleep has turned Seia’s already soft form languid, smoothed the tension from her muscles where she rests, cradled safely inside his cab. Her breathing is slow, and so quiet he has to specifically tune his audials to even hear it. Here she is, unconscious and unguarded, trusting him to protect her, bring her home and keep her safe.

There’s a new sort of feeling in his chest now, a sweetly painful current running through his systems and spreading from where is AI chip sits. He feels almost dizzy, drowning under the wave of it as he watches her shift, curling up further in his seat with a small sigh of contentment, warm and soft and alive.

She’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his entire existence.

“Seia,” he mumbles quietly, not wanting to wake her but knowing he needs to. Sleeping in cars is bad for human spines. “We’re here. You’re home.”

“McCrane, what…” she mumbles, rousing immediately at the sound of her name, “oh. Thank you, let me just-“ she fumbles for her phone, opening an app and pressing a few buttons. In front of him, the garage door starts opening. “Here, come in.”

Despite being somewhat surprised, he still acquiesces, driving inside before popping his door open for her to exit. Seia does, boots hitting the floor, only to sway and stumble, almost tripping over her own feet.

“Careful!” says McCrane, transforming quickly and reaching a steadying servo towards her, which she gladly takes. “You really should rest, Seia.”

Still holding onto him, she groans- an unusually rough, irritated sound for her. “Mmn, I wish, but- I need to write up the sitreps today.”

McCrane frowns. “Aren’t you off duty? Can’t it wait for tomorrow?”

“Only off active duty, unfortunately. And no,” she sighs, rubbing her eyes, “they have to be done today. Oh, but that reminds me- what about you? Got some paperwork of your own?”

McCrane grimaces slightly, hating even the mention of that accursed word. “I do,” he says, “I, well. Technically, I was supposed to already be at the station doing just that, but… the commissioner won’t care as long as I get it done by tomorrow morning.”

“Would you like to work on it with me here, in that case?” Seia asks, quirking her lips up at him, though there’s something off in her eyes. “Some company might pass the time a little faster, wouldn’t you say?”

Though her words are light, there’s a sort of heaviness to her tone, and he suddenly remembers the three dead men from her platoon, crumpled on the pavement like broken toys. Thinks of the wide array of injuries on the soft, fragile bodies of her soldiers as well as her own, along with whatever other wounds must linger on the mind. Stay, please.

“I’d like that,” he smiles back, and watches something in her shoulders relax. Of course.

“Good. I’m glad,” she says, and her smile looks a lot more real now, though still strained at the edges with fatigue. “I’ll just- go get changed, and grab something to eat, then I’ll be back. Make yourself at home in the meantime, please.”

Nodding, McCrane returns her smile with his own before watching her disappear into her home, seeming much steadier on her feet than before. Good. If she passed out inside, he’d have a hard time getting to her without damaging her house.

And speaking of which- he takes the time to look around now, studying the garage he finds himself in. It’s smaller than the one in the precinct, obviously, probably sized for only about two cars. The ceiling is too low for him so stand up, but there’s enough space for him to sit straight without scraping his helm against the upper level. It also helps there isn’t an actual car here with him, giving him a lot more leg room- that would also explain why Seia accepts his rides so often, and he makes a note to ask about it at some point. The place is otherwise mostly empty, and there’s a fine covering of dust on every surface. Before him, it looks like nobody’s been here for some time.

Still, even despite that, it feels- cozy, almost. Comfortable. But then again, that’s probably because of Seia. This is her house, her home, which she invited him into. The thought makes something inside his chest feel warm.

Soon enough, he hears the tapping of tiny footsteps making their way towards the garage, and the door opens, admitting Seia back inside. “Hello again, and sorry for the wait,” she calls out, sounding slightly out of breath, and oh. She looks different now.

While he doesn’t exactly get it, he knows at this point that clothes are a sort of armor for humans, social more than physical in most cases. The way a human dresses in your company signifies, in among other things, their relationship to you – meaning that, for the most part, McCrane has seen a lot of uniforms and not much else.

Seia’s wearing a sweater now, dark red and loose, with some stretchy sort of black pants showing off her strong legs. Her hair is likewise different, having been let down from the tight knot she wears at work, pooling down her shoulders. McCrane has to reset his optics a few times before he can manage to unglue them from her.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind waiting,” he says once he puts himself together, mentally kicking himself for staring. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, though, only smiling up at him, a work tablet and an apple held in her arms.

“You’re too kind,” she laughs quietly before stopping, eyes roaming the garage for the best place to sit.

McCrane, feeling unusually daring, offers her a servo instead. Grinning brightly, Seia climbs on, and he carefully deposits her on the flat plane of his shoulder. “Is this alright?” he asks quietly.

“Very much so,” she smiles at him, and he hurries to pull out his own, mech-sized tablet so he doesn’t end up blurting something embarrassing.

For some time, they work in tandem, filling out the variety of forms that come with their respective jobs. Or, Seia works, at least. McCrane, he- well, he finds himself having a hard time focusing on the datawork in front of him, what with the woman he… cares for being so close to him. Sitting as she is right next to his face, he finds he can actually smell her; human sweat and blood and a little bit of smoke, coupled with something sweeter, cleaner- most likely whatever she washes her clothes in. Not a traditionally pleasant scent, he’d say, but the fact that it’s Seia makes it wonderful as far as he’s concerned.

God, sometimes he wants to hit himself for how foolish he’s being about her, but- well, he doubts it would help, anyway.

Minutes tick into almost two hours, when, finally, McCrane manages to get all his reports in order. He chances a look out of the corner of his optic at the woman perched on his shoulder, only to find her already studying him with a tired, yet keen eye. “Finished with your work?” he asks, putting his own tablet away now that it’s no longer needed.

Seia hums. “I am. Thank you again for the company- it truly did make it…”

“-Less mind-numbingly boring?” McCrane finishes for her with a grin, and she laughs.

“That sounds about right,” she says, before a yawn nearly splits her face in two. “Goodness,” she sighs, rubbing at her eyes.

McCrane frown a little. “You should go rest, it’s quite late. I’ll go get out of your hair, don’t worry.”

“Actually,” Seia interjects, not letting him so much as move a piston, “I was thinking you could stay here for the night. It’s a long drive to the station, and you’ve had a difficult day. Why not simply send off your reports and rest here?” she says, looking him in the optic. “It’s no luxury hotel, but at least nobody should bother you here. You said you don’t really have a room of your own at the precinct, so…” here, she trails off, leaving her offer up in the air.

He gapes at her for a moment, before his processor flashes back to the conversation they’ve had weeks ago, about the way something twisted in her face when he’d mentioned his living conditions. “Is that why you invited me in here?”

Seia smiles- no, smirks a little. “Partly,” she laughs softly, “I really did want your company for the paperwork, but also… you deserve something nice McCrane.” Then, her face sobers slightly. “However, I don’t want you to take this as an order. Please, don’t feel obligated to stay if you’d rather not-“

“I want to!” he blurts quickly, stopping her in her tracks. “I’d love to stay here, Seia. Thank you.”

Something in her shoulders seems to relax at that. “I’m glad. I’ll let you go to sleep, then.”

He lifts a servo up for her to climb onto, knowing he’ll miss her presence but glad she’ll get her rest, but she doesn’t get on yet. Instead, she seems to hesitate for a moment before standing up, laying soft hand on his cheek. Then, slowly, as if giving him time to move away, she brings her face closer to his, and lays a small, gentle kiss right under his optic.

McCrane’s engine sputters in his chest, the hum of his fans breaking up the night’s silence. Seia pulls away, looking at him questioningly, checking for his reaction, but he doesn’t let her get too far. Inspired by her own boldness, he leans his helm against her head, gently pressing her closer with his servo in the closest approximation of an embrace they can manage with their size difference.

With a gentle, content sigh, she relaxes into his hold, leaning into his cheek and winding her arms around what of his helm she can reach. Her breaths fog up the metal plates of his plates. This close, he can not only hear the beat of her heart but feel it, thrumming deep in her chest.

Outside, the world could be ending, yet he most likely wouldn’t even notice. There’s no space in his processor for anything but Seia. Mccrane runs a careful thumb down her hair, circuits sparking in delight- it really is soft, smooth and wonderful like he’d imagined, and he loves every second of it. Pressed cheek to cheek as they are, he can feel her smile forming as it stretches across her face.

After an indeterminate amount of time, McCrane pulls his servo away, and Seia puts some distance between them, looking at him with such warmth in her eyes that it makes his optics flicker. Suddenly feeling flustered, he ducks his helm a little, but he can’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling upwards.

“Goodnight, McCrane,” she hums, and he holds out his servo for her to get down. After petting down his cheek one last time, she does, letting McCrane carry her safely back to the floor.

“Goodnight, Seia,” he says softly, watching her the whole way until she disappears through the door, leaving his sight but not his thoughts.

Despite the comfortable quiet of the garage, he doesn’t get much rest that night.

As it turned out, that night spent mostly not recharging at her house would be far from the last one. Nowadays, if McCrane’s driving Seia home, it’s practically guaranteed he’ll also be staying there until next morning. It’s been happening so often that several of his teammates have taken note, Gunmax especially throwing him the most egregious grins he can muster. McCrane would usually be properly irritated about it, but if he’s being honest, his processor has been occupied by more… pleasant things as of late.

Because while he and Seia act professional in public - for the most part, at least - it’s a lot different when there’s no prying eyes around. If he’d thought there had been a lot of contact between them before, it was nothing compared to now. The warmth of her small, soft body against his frame becomes a familiar sensation, losing its novelty over time without losing any of its charm. The echo of her presence always seems to linger, burned into his plating for hours to come and making a smile tug at the corners of his mouth- usually at the most inconvenient of times. This does little to help with his teammates’ good-natured teasing, but as it is, he can’t bring himself to care much.

So, things are going well. Better than he could have ever imagined, honestly, but, well-

McCrane doesn’t really know much about relationships. The entirety of his experience, at least on the more positive side of things, comes from books, movies, and Power Joe’s romantic telenovelas, all of which he knows to take with more than a few grains of salt. And as for the more work-related knowledge, that’s only ever been good at showing him all the ways relationships can turn sour, causing crime and suffering for everyone involved. With that in mind, it’s no surprise that, for a while, he’d failed to grasp the appeal of them at all.

But then, as usual, Seia came and showed him the other point of view- and suddenly, the thought of one didn’t sound so bad. Quite the opposite, if it was with her.

Except- he’s not exactly sure if what they have even is a relationship. It certainly seems like one to him, but nothing has been really discussed - there has been no confession, no exchange of gestures or promises he knows hold meaning in human society. And while before, he’d been alright with leaving things vague, taking whatever Seia wanted to give him and not asking for anything else, it’s been weighing on his processor more and more with each passing day. He feels confident in Seia’s… affection for him, but not where they stand with each other. Is this all they’re going to be, two beings bound only by a measure of care and what might be some mutual attraction thrown into the mix, or could they be- more?

And herein lies his main issue. Technically, he could just ask, of course, but… asking for what he wants, or even wanting things in general, has always been difficult. So, the words remain stuck in the back of his throat, never quite managing to find their way out.

Now might be a good time, he thinks to himself one cool autumn evening as he opens his door for Seia to exit, parked in the now familiar spot in front of her house. Still, the words refuse to come, as reticent as ever. It doesn’t help that Seia’s been acting… oddly, for the past few days, and especially so during today’s patrol. A human might not have noticed, but his sensors had little issue noticing her heartbeat, unusually fast, and the way her entire body radiates tension like a knotted cable. She’d already denied being sick, so what-

“Thank you again, McCrane,” she says once she’s out, distracting him from his observations. Her heart rate is spiking again, and he’s beginning to feel concerned. “Also- if you could change shape, please? There is something I’d like to talk with you about.”

An electric sort of dread runs through his circuits. That sentence always meant trouble in all the various love stories he pretended not to watch, and his processor suddenly flashes to the past two weeks- it’s been a little while since she’s last invited him inside. Has he… done something he shouldn’t have? He can’t think of anything, but still-

“Is everything alright?” asks McCrane after transforming, managing to keep his voice mostly level.

Seia blinks up at him, before quickly shaking her head. “Oh, no- yes, it’s nothing bad, don’t worry. I suppose I just… have something to show you, that’s all.”

Now more intrigued than worried, McCrane simply gives her a nod.

“First,” she digs around in her bag before holding out a small device of some sort, “I want you to have this. It’s an electronic key to this garage, custom made. And… there’s one more thing, but-” she says, holding out the- his key up to him, her gentle smile tinged with a small measure of uncertainty. “Well, you can see for yourself.”

Whatever McCrane may have been expecting, this had certainly not been on the list. Deep inside his chest, an unidentifiable something sings as he wordlessly takes the electronic key from her, giving it a quick once-over before pressing the opening command. The whole thing is on the smaller side by mech standards, but still sized perfectly to be easily usable with his servos. It’s obvious how much thought was put into this - how much though Seia put into this – and the joy that rushes through his frame leaves him almost paralyzed.

Then, with a quiet whirring, the garage slides open, and McCrane’s optics widen. The space he’d become accustomed in the past months has been completely transformed. There’s a soft, thick tarp on the floor, muffling his steps as he crouches to walk further in, approaching the familiar, mech-sized chair in one corner- a perfect replica of the ones in the braves’ office. A large blanket is folded next to it, as well as another chair, this one human sized, with a little wooden table placed off to the side. The lights are different too, new and brighter than before, more suited to the inside of a house rather than a garage. It looks, for all intents and purposes, like what he’s seen of people’s living rooms, except made as a place for mech and human to spend time together. For McCrane and Seia to spend time together.

His voice box spits out static as his optics darting around the room, processor reeling. “I’ve always had a home to come back to, even after I enlisted,” says Seia softly from behind him, following him into the garage. “So, I wanted you to have the same thing. I know it’s not much, there’s only so much I can do without tearing half the house down, but- you can always come here now, even when I’m away. A place away from work.” Her smile may be small, but she’s looking at him so kindly that her gaze feels like a caress of its own. “So, what do you think?”

McCrane’s optics take it all in, this… grand gift and gesture in one, but he finds it doesn’t hold his attention for long. Not when the best person he’s ever known is standing just a few feet away, and suddenly, all the words he’d been choking down come loose, rushing out with all the unstoppable power of a tidal wave.

“It’s wonderful,” he sighs softly. “I- thank you, but…” as he pauses, he sees Seia suddenly tense, so he quickly continues on, “as much as I appreciate it, the only thing I need to actually feel at home is you.”

She stares at him, lovely blue eyes wide, and he bends forward, stretching out a servo to run a careful digit down her arm. “I understand where you’re coming from, being human, but I don’t actually need all this to- be happy, or be comfortable. As long as I’m in a room with a roof and temperatures above freezing, I’m perfectly alright. And I’m grateful for this, I truly am, but all I really want from you is-“ a steadying vent, in and out, “-however much of yourself you want to give me. Your company, your time, your presence in my life- that’s all I need to be happy, and… nothing would make me happier than to be yours in turn.

That is-“ he’s almost whispering now, his entire frame fraught with tension, “if you’ll have me.”

Seia’s cheeks flush, mouth opening slightly before she hides her face in her hands. Fear of rejection suddenly mixing with concern, McCrane awkwardly flutters his servos in the air, before leaning closer to look at her from a different angle. “Seia?” he says quietly, voice tight. “Is that- I did not mean to overstep-“

“You have- no right to be this sweet, you know” she mumbles through poorly suppressed giggles, her expression still hidden but shoulders shaking slightly, and he relaxes slightly. “My goodness, did you get that out of a romance novel?” she sighs, before pulling her hands from her still red face. Seia’s eyes are tender where they meet his gaze, and her bright, lovely smile sends a shock through his capacitors. “But- yes. Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Once her words manage to reach his processor through the haze of excitement and worry, he can’t stop the thrum of his engine from escaping his chest as his whole frame slumps, venting out in relief. Something inside of him feels close to bursting, electricity arcing down his circuits, and for a moment, he feels the absurd urge to go drive excited laps around to burn off some of the energy. Seeing as he’s in a tight space, and has more dignity than that, he restrains himself to just a broad, gentle smile.

“I meant every word, you know,” he says, quiet but earnest. Then, laying his palm flat on the floor in invitation, he watches with a quiet joy as Seia – his partner, now, officially – settles herself on it, letting him pick her up and draw her to his chest.

She laughs, running a small, warm hand down his plating. “I know you did,” she says with a smile, “that makes it all the better. Your honesty in this is quite refreshing, and much appreciated.”

“In that case,” he asks, hesitating for a moment before deciding to just go for it, “may I make one more honest request?”

“Oh?” hums Seia, and from the tone of her voice, she’s probably guessed what he’s about to ask. “Go ahead.”

With flustered static coloring his words, he finally voices the question that’s been rattling around his processor for months now- haunting his every glance in her direction, coloring every though of her with longing so powerful it ached. “Can I kiss you?”

She smiles at him now, bright and affectionate. “You can.”

So he does. He’s barely got any idea what he’s doing, and that’s even before the size difference comes into question, but he refuses to let that stop him. Seia’s small lips against his own are soft and wonderful, her hands braced on his cheeks, and McCrane’s processor feels on the verge of meltdown from the sheer bliss of it all. His own servo makes slow, gentle strokes down her head and back, engine purring in his chest, and he leans fully into the sensation of it, of her, so very close.

When their lips eventually part, he doesn’t let her go far, bowing his helm to press his cheek against Seia’s forehead. She leans against him fully, warm and trusting, wrapping her arms as far around his helm as they’ll go.

It feels incredible. It feels perfect.

It feels like home.

#brave police j decker #WHERE CAN I GET A GUY LIKE MCCRANE #screaming and actually crying fr #never have I felt such yearning #genuinely banging my face against a wall #But like #in a good way

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