(DCU) Feedback Loop
Title: Feedback Loop
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Vic/Gar
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2530
Notes: Temperature play. Toys. For Kink Bingo, prompt "mechanical/technological".
Summary: Vic's made a new modification to his body, one specifically with Gar in mind. It's the sweetest and most mind-numbingly sexy thing Gar's ever experienced.
Gar’s not sure, but there’s a very good chance he’s forgotten how to breathe.
“Calm down, saladhead,” Vic rumbles in his ear, nosing at Gar’s hairline. “Before you strain something.”
His hand comes up to squeeze at Gar’s shoulders, possibly in a way that’s supposed to be reassuring. But it’s not, is the opposite of reassuring, in fact. Because the metal of Vic’s hands is always a little cool to the touch, a little cold against Gar’s skin, and it’s making Gar’s head spin.
When they were kids, in their early days as Titans, they indulged in a few awkward make-out sessions. Awkward since Gar had no idea what the hell he was actually supposed to do, something his damn ego wouldn’t let him admit to, and he was terrified that Vic would figure it out.
Vic was always so angry back then, not specifically at Gar but just at the world in general, and he’d always be a little rough. He never hurt Gar or anything like that, but he’d squeeze just a touch too hard, and it would make Gar feel like he was losing his mind. Because, God, it felt so good, and Gar didn’t have a whole lot of experience but he’d been pretty sure he shouldn’t have been whining and squirming and feeling like he was about to come in his damn pants for just a little kissing.
A little kissing with tongues. And growling. And shiny, cold, grabby-squeezy metal hands.
So Gar would start babbling, talking about nothing, making excuses and bad jokes, trying to slow everything down so he didn’t embarrass himself. And Vic would get all withdrawn and pissy, which Gar unfortunately didn’t realise until it was too late was because Vic thought that Gar didn’t actually want him.
Vic thought Gar was repulsed by his cybernetics.
It’s taken Gar years to get it into Vic’s head that that isn’t the case.
It’s only recently that he’s started letting Vic know just how much he likes all those cyborg parts of him.
But apparently it’s all worth it, because Vic’s got him pinned to the couch, touching everywhere, metal against green flesh. Definitely worth it, as long as Gar doesn’t have a heart attack before he gets off.
Back in the day, Vic was hesitant to experiment too much with his body, mostly because he was hesitant to accept it. He did eventually start tinkering with his circuits, but it was all about what weapons he could add, about something he could use to release his rage.
Then there was the Technis and a different kind of body, and there were a lot of possibilities available to that body. T-1000, liquid-metal types of possibilities. But Vic was still hesitant, maybe because his first use of that body came about when he sort of accidentally declared war on Earth’s heroes. Or maybe because his consciousness was the only element of him left at that point, no biological body parts at all.
This body, the one he has now, is back to how Gar remembers him when they first met. Dark human skin and shiny metal plating, and Vic has been adjusting and tweaking the design of this new body with very little hesitation at all.
And this time, it’s not just weapons he’s added.
“But are you -” It’s been a long time since Gar’s heard his voice get that squeaky. He swallows, tries again. “You sure this’ll work?”
“You know I can feel pain,” Vic says evenly, and there’s a glint in his still-human eye that suggests he’s enjoying seeing Gar get all twisted up and breathless over this. “It’s not really a stretch to think I could build in the ability to feel pleasure, right?”
Gar just swallows and nods and stares.
Stares at the attachable cock.
Maybe it’s a good thing that Vic never tried something like this when they were younger, because Gar’s pretty sure his younger self would have laughed himself stupid and then found an excuse to rush to the bathroom and jerk off until his cock chafed.
His older self at least hasn’t laughed, because Vic’s a much more patient man nowadays but he probably wouldn’t be impressed with Gar collapsing in giggles. And part of Gar wants to laugh, because this is ridiculous, but it’s kind of drowned out by the staring-and-also-possibly-drooling part of him.
“You can back out,” Vic reminds him gently, interrupting his staring contest with the shiny metallic phallus that’s jutting out from the centre of the plating on Vic’s pelvis. “I’ve told you that, right? That I won’t be mad.”
“I’m not backing out,” Gar replies a little too quickly. “C’mon, hook me up.”
So Vic does hook him up. Literally. He attaches the electrodes, just like they discussed. Two to Gar’s forehead, above each temple, and two to either side of Gar’s chest.
“Will that be enough?” Gar asks. The electrodes are held in place with round adhesive pads, not all that different to the ones used during Titans medicals.
“It’ll be enough,” Vic assures him, that small smile on his face he always gets when he thinks Gar’s acting equal parts exasperating and adorable.
“Okay,” Gar nods, and he must be still breathing because he hasn’t actually keeled over and died in the last five minutes, but it still feels like he isn’t. “Let’s, uh, let’s do this.”
That small smile remains on Vic’s lips a moment longer, and then he’s settling himself on his knees between Gar’s sprawled legs, casually pushing Gar’s thighs wider apart. Strong metal hands, manipulating him so easily, exposing him, and Gar has to squeeze his eyes and his mouth shut, lips a thin line so he doesn’t start whimpering.
“You know, if you don’t relax, this isn’t going to work,” Vic murmurs, stroking Gar’s hip in a way that definitely isn’t helping Gar calm down.
“You relax,” Gar mutters petulantly, but he manages a few deep breaths that don’t sound too much like strangled gasps.
“I’m turning on the feedback loop now,” Vic tells him, and then there’s a tingle under the adhesive pads as the electrodes start working.
Gar had been a little worried about the electric current scrambling his brain, not that he feels like he has a brain right now, but Vic had promised him it wasn’t anything strong, and it’s not. There’s just a gentle buzz under each pad, the kind that’s so weak Gar probably wouldn’t notice if he weren’t concentrating on the area so hard, and then a prickle of warmth that fades into nothing.
After a few seconds, Gar can’t even feel them working, although that’s kind of the point. They’re not there to stimulate Gar in any way, just to measure his reactions and transmit the data to Vic’s circuits.
But even if they don’t feel like they’re working to Gar, they’re apparently working just fine for Vic. He gets this dreamy smile on his face, human eye fluttering closed, before it stretches into something like a mischievous grin. “Wow, we haven’t even started yet and already you’re feeling this good?” he asks, opening his eye again to smirk down at Gar.
“Shut up and do me already,” Gar grumbles.
“With pleasure,” Vic retorts, grin growing a little wider as he feels the sensation of Gar’s heartbeat ratchet up through the electrodes.
Gar’s already come once, from stretching himself open with his fingers while Vic reclined on the couch, watching hungrily. But that means he feels sensitised, like his nerves are still skittering with pleasure from the first orgasm. His hole feels a little swollen and so, so ready for this, as Vic shifts closer so the tip of the phallus can brush against Gar’s entrance.
It’s cool to the touch, like every other part of Vic, although he knows it won’t stay that way once it’s inside of him.
They’ve played with toys before, with Gar fucking himself on dildos for Vic’s voyeuristic tendencies, and Gar didn’t actually realise at the time that Vic was testing his limits with this new attachment in mind. The phallus is a satisfying size, though not as large as Gar’s biggest toy. But that’s probably a good thing, because when he’s got that monster inside of him, there’s not much room for movement, and he wants to feel this, wants to feel Vic pound him into the couch.
All of Gar’s toys are silicone, rubbery malleable material wrapped around a harder base, but Vic’s attachable cock isn’t wrapped in anything. It’s plain metal, the same as the rest of him, like it’s just another part of his cybernetics. Like it’s part of him, and Gar gasps as it begins to push inside.
It’s so smooth, like the way the metal across Vic’s chest feels when Gar runs his hands over it, except it’s so much more intimate like this, so different and amazing as it stretches him open. It’s not styled like an actual dick, no wider head or veins carved into it. It’s just one long sleek length with a rounded tip, and it slides into him like it was made to be inside of him.
Which it was, of course, but Gar never actually thought about the sensation of that beyond the vague concept.
Vic’s watching him, breathing slow and deep, one hand pressed into the couch and the other cradling Gar’s hip. There’s a sheen of sweat over the human half of his head, shining across his scalp, and he looks a little awed.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, and Gar knows his answering smile is little dopey and distracted. But Vic gets it, smiles back and bows their foreheads together. He can’t experience the sensation of what it’s like to be inside Gar, the phallus is no substitute for the nerve-endings on a biological cock. But the electrodes mean that he can feel what Gar’s feeling, Gar’s pleasure travelling through the wires connecting them and some fancy coding so that Vic can experience that same pleasure across his circuits.
So when he says Gar feels good, he means that the sensations that Gar’s experiencing feel good to Gar, therefore the echo of those sensations feel good to Vic.
Feedback loops are apparently awesome, and Gar’s almost sad he didn’t pay more attention during mechanical science back when he was still being tutored. Almost.
He wraps his legs around Vic’s waist, fingernails scraping over the unyielding plating on Vic’s chest. “C’mon, c’mon,” he wheedles, and usually Vic would laugh good-naturedly at his impatience, but this time he doesn’t. Not when he can feel how much Gar wants it, his heart hammering and heat spreading up his back.
Instead he begins to move his hips, pulling back and then pushing back in. Methodical and steady rhythm, God, like a damn machine, and Gar whines and arches into it. The metal is slick with lube and there isn’t enough friction, so it’s like getting what he wants and being teased at the same time. Gar can feel himself clenching around it with every thrust in, trying to make the slide grittier, rougher, but he can’t.
And, fuck, it’s still cold within him. Not enough to burn or be uncomfortable, but enough that he can’t escape it, can’t do anything but focus on the chill of it, the way it makes him convulse and shiver, toes curling in the air.
“Like the temperature?” Vic asks softly, like he can read Gar’s mind. “There’s coolant running through it. No matter how hot you get inside, it’s going to stay like that, cold and metal inside of you.”
Gar wants to answer, wants to tell Vic what an asshole he is in a way that’s totally a compliment, wants to tell Vic how perfect he is and how much Gar loves him. But all he can manage are these pitiful noises that get bitten off every time Vic fucks back into him.
God, fucking him so hard, and Gar’s cock slaps against his stomach as Vic forces him further up the couch. The hand on Gar’s hip begins to slide upward, and the pulsar dials on Vic’s hands always feel warmer than body temperature, even now when they haven’t been used in hours and Vic’s completely disconnected his offence systems.
Cold phallus inside of him, the heat of that dial on Vic’s palm as it moves over Gar’s chest, chill metal of his fingertips as he rubs Gar’s nipple, and Gar’s whining now, constant run of high-pitched noise. Feels so right, like he’s been waiting for this since the day he and Vic met, like this is all he’s ever needed, and Vic’s groaning in time to every one of Gar’s gasps and mewls.
Getting close, feeling his balls tightening, feeling the string of pre-come he’s leaked across his belly, and Vic braces both hands on either side of Gar’s head and stares down at him, human eye looking so hungry. “One last feature,” he hisses, like talking’s almost beyond him, which is totally understandable because words are definitely beyond Gar right now.
And then there’s movement, shit, vibration, the phallus buzzing deep within him, pressing down across his prostate. And Gar’s screaming, he can hear himself but he can’t stop. Vic’s growling above him, and Gar’s shaking, seizing up, clinging to Vic’s shoulders as his back arches off the couch. Vertigo taking him, everything spinning as he comes hard enough that it almost hurts, and even with his eyes closed he can see the red glow of Vic’s cyborg eye staring down at him.
Vic’s panting above him when Gar finally finds the strength to open his eyes again. His fingers have punched holes through the couch cushions on either side of Gar’s head.
“Successful experiment?” Gar manages, voice raspy, and Vic laughs.
They’re both kind of slow as they get themselves cleaned up, both blissed out Gar’s endorphins. Vic slides out carefully, and Gar’s hole tries to tighten around the phallus like he can hold on just that little bit longer.
“You’re like a green shag carpet,” Vic teases as he strokes over the hair below Gar’s bellybutton with a warm, damp cloth.
“Not all of us have easy wipe-down surfaces,” Gar shoots back.
In an unspoken agreement, the electrodes stay attached a little longer.
Gar eventually curls up against Vic’s side, metal still as cool as ever, Vic’s arm slung over his shoulders. The attachable phallus is still in place on Vic’s groin, and they’re probably both staring at it like it’s the most amazing thing in the universe. Although, as far as Gar’s concerned, it is.
“Soooo,” Gar drawls after a while. “Coolant and vibration, huh?”
“Figured you might enjoy the surprise,” Vic smirks.
Gar snorts at the understatement. “Whelp, you won’t be catching me off-guard with it a second time,” he announces confidently.
“Maybe not,” Vic agrees, and there’s a dangerous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But this was only the prototype. Wait until you see what other features I have in mind.”
Gar’s pretty sure it’s not just his imagination when Vic’s cyborg eye flares at Gar’s needy little whimper.
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Vic/Gar
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2530
Notes: Temperature play. Toys. For Kink Bingo, prompt "mechanical/technological".
Summary: Vic's made a new modification to his body, one specifically with Gar in mind. It's the sweetest and most mind-numbingly sexy thing Gar's ever experienced.
Gar’s not sure, but there’s a very good chance he’s forgotten how to breathe.
“Calm down, saladhead,” Vic rumbles in his ear, nosing at Gar’s hairline. “Before you strain something.”
His hand comes up to squeeze at Gar’s shoulders, possibly in a way that’s supposed to be reassuring. But it’s not, is the opposite of reassuring, in fact. Because the metal of Vic’s hands is always a little cool to the touch, a little cold against Gar’s skin, and it’s making Gar’s head spin.
When they were kids, in their early days as Titans, they indulged in a few awkward make-out sessions. Awkward since Gar had no idea what the hell he was actually supposed to do, something his damn ego wouldn’t let him admit to, and he was terrified that Vic would figure it out.
Vic was always so angry back then, not specifically at Gar but just at the world in general, and he’d always be a little rough. He never hurt Gar or anything like that, but he’d squeeze just a touch too hard, and it would make Gar feel like he was losing his mind. Because, God, it felt so good, and Gar didn’t have a whole lot of experience but he’d been pretty sure he shouldn’t have been whining and squirming and feeling like he was about to come in his damn pants for just a little kissing.
A little kissing with tongues. And growling. And shiny, cold, grabby-squeezy metal hands.
So Gar would start babbling, talking about nothing, making excuses and bad jokes, trying to slow everything down so he didn’t embarrass himself. And Vic would get all withdrawn and pissy, which Gar unfortunately didn’t realise until it was too late was because Vic thought that Gar didn’t actually want him.
Vic thought Gar was repulsed by his cybernetics.
It’s taken Gar years to get it into Vic’s head that that isn’t the case.
It’s only recently that he’s started letting Vic know just how much he likes all those cyborg parts of him.
But apparently it’s all worth it, because Vic’s got him pinned to the couch, touching everywhere, metal against green flesh. Definitely worth it, as long as Gar doesn’t have a heart attack before he gets off.
Back in the day, Vic was hesitant to experiment too much with his body, mostly because he was hesitant to accept it. He did eventually start tinkering with his circuits, but it was all about what weapons he could add, about something he could use to release his rage.
Then there was the Technis and a different kind of body, and there were a lot of possibilities available to that body. T-1000, liquid-metal types of possibilities. But Vic was still hesitant, maybe because his first use of that body came about when he sort of accidentally declared war on Earth’s heroes. Or maybe because his consciousness was the only element of him left at that point, no biological body parts at all.
This body, the one he has now, is back to how Gar remembers him when they first met. Dark human skin and shiny metal plating, and Vic has been adjusting and tweaking the design of this new body with very little hesitation at all.
And this time, it’s not just weapons he’s added.
“But are you -” It’s been a long time since Gar’s heard his voice get that squeaky. He swallows, tries again. “You sure this’ll work?”
“You know I can feel pain,” Vic says evenly, and there’s a glint in his still-human eye that suggests he’s enjoying seeing Gar get all twisted up and breathless over this. “It’s not really a stretch to think I could build in the ability to feel pleasure, right?”
Gar just swallows and nods and stares.
Stares at the attachable cock.
Maybe it’s a good thing that Vic never tried something like this when they were younger, because Gar’s pretty sure his younger self would have laughed himself stupid and then found an excuse to rush to the bathroom and jerk off until his cock chafed.
His older self at least hasn’t laughed, because Vic’s a much more patient man nowadays but he probably wouldn’t be impressed with Gar collapsing in giggles. And part of Gar wants to laugh, because this is ridiculous, but it’s kind of drowned out by the staring-and-also-possibly-drooling part of him.
“You can back out,” Vic reminds him gently, interrupting his staring contest with the shiny metallic phallus that’s jutting out from the centre of the plating on Vic’s pelvis. “I’ve told you that, right? That I won’t be mad.”
“I’m not backing out,” Gar replies a little too quickly. “C’mon, hook me up.”
So Vic does hook him up. Literally. He attaches the electrodes, just like they discussed. Two to Gar’s forehead, above each temple, and two to either side of Gar’s chest.
“Will that be enough?” Gar asks. The electrodes are held in place with round adhesive pads, not all that different to the ones used during Titans medicals.
“It’ll be enough,” Vic assures him, that small smile on his face he always gets when he thinks Gar’s acting equal parts exasperating and adorable.
“Okay,” Gar nods, and he must be still breathing because he hasn’t actually keeled over and died in the last five minutes, but it still feels like he isn’t. “Let’s, uh, let’s do this.”
That small smile remains on Vic’s lips a moment longer, and then he’s settling himself on his knees between Gar’s sprawled legs, casually pushing Gar’s thighs wider apart. Strong metal hands, manipulating him so easily, exposing him, and Gar has to squeeze his eyes and his mouth shut, lips a thin line so he doesn’t start whimpering.
“You know, if you don’t relax, this isn’t going to work,” Vic murmurs, stroking Gar’s hip in a way that definitely isn’t helping Gar calm down.
“You relax,” Gar mutters petulantly, but he manages a few deep breaths that don’t sound too much like strangled gasps.
“I’m turning on the feedback loop now,” Vic tells him, and then there’s a tingle under the adhesive pads as the electrodes start working.
Gar had been a little worried about the electric current scrambling his brain, not that he feels like he has a brain right now, but Vic had promised him it wasn’t anything strong, and it’s not. There’s just a gentle buzz under each pad, the kind that’s so weak Gar probably wouldn’t notice if he weren’t concentrating on the area so hard, and then a prickle of warmth that fades into nothing.
After a few seconds, Gar can’t even feel them working, although that’s kind of the point. They’re not there to stimulate Gar in any way, just to measure his reactions and transmit the data to Vic’s circuits.
But even if they don’t feel like they’re working to Gar, they’re apparently working just fine for Vic. He gets this dreamy smile on his face, human eye fluttering closed, before it stretches into something like a mischievous grin. “Wow, we haven’t even started yet and already you’re feeling this good?” he asks, opening his eye again to smirk down at Gar.
“Shut up and do me already,” Gar grumbles.
“With pleasure,” Vic retorts, grin growing a little wider as he feels the sensation of Gar’s heartbeat ratchet up through the electrodes.
Gar’s already come once, from stretching himself open with his fingers while Vic reclined on the couch, watching hungrily. But that means he feels sensitised, like his nerves are still skittering with pleasure from the first orgasm. His hole feels a little swollen and so, so ready for this, as Vic shifts closer so the tip of the phallus can brush against Gar’s entrance.
It’s cool to the touch, like every other part of Vic, although he knows it won’t stay that way once it’s inside of him.
They’ve played with toys before, with Gar fucking himself on dildos for Vic’s voyeuristic tendencies, and Gar didn’t actually realise at the time that Vic was testing his limits with this new attachment in mind. The phallus is a satisfying size, though not as large as Gar’s biggest toy. But that’s probably a good thing, because when he’s got that monster inside of him, there’s not much room for movement, and he wants to feel this, wants to feel Vic pound him into the couch.
All of Gar’s toys are silicone, rubbery malleable material wrapped around a harder base, but Vic’s attachable cock isn’t wrapped in anything. It’s plain metal, the same as the rest of him, like it’s just another part of his cybernetics. Like it’s part of him, and Gar gasps as it begins to push inside.
It’s so smooth, like the way the metal across Vic’s chest feels when Gar runs his hands over it, except it’s so much more intimate like this, so different and amazing as it stretches him open. It’s not styled like an actual dick, no wider head or veins carved into it. It’s just one long sleek length with a rounded tip, and it slides into him like it was made to be inside of him.
Which it was, of course, but Gar never actually thought about the sensation of that beyond the vague concept.
Vic’s watching him, breathing slow and deep, one hand pressed into the couch and the other cradling Gar’s hip. There’s a sheen of sweat over the human half of his head, shining across his scalp, and he looks a little awed.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, and Gar knows his answering smile is little dopey and distracted. But Vic gets it, smiles back and bows their foreheads together. He can’t experience the sensation of what it’s like to be inside Gar, the phallus is no substitute for the nerve-endings on a biological cock. But the electrodes mean that he can feel what Gar’s feeling, Gar’s pleasure travelling through the wires connecting them and some fancy coding so that Vic can experience that same pleasure across his circuits.
So when he says Gar feels good, he means that the sensations that Gar’s experiencing feel good to Gar, therefore the echo of those sensations feel good to Vic.
Feedback loops are apparently awesome, and Gar’s almost sad he didn’t pay more attention during mechanical science back when he was still being tutored. Almost.
He wraps his legs around Vic’s waist, fingernails scraping over the unyielding plating on Vic’s chest. “C’mon, c’mon,” he wheedles, and usually Vic would laugh good-naturedly at his impatience, but this time he doesn’t. Not when he can feel how much Gar wants it, his heart hammering and heat spreading up his back.
Instead he begins to move his hips, pulling back and then pushing back in. Methodical and steady rhythm, God, like a damn machine, and Gar whines and arches into it. The metal is slick with lube and there isn’t enough friction, so it’s like getting what he wants and being teased at the same time. Gar can feel himself clenching around it with every thrust in, trying to make the slide grittier, rougher, but he can’t.
And, fuck, it’s still cold within him. Not enough to burn or be uncomfortable, but enough that he can’t escape it, can’t do anything but focus on the chill of it, the way it makes him convulse and shiver, toes curling in the air.
“Like the temperature?” Vic asks softly, like he can read Gar’s mind. “There’s coolant running through it. No matter how hot you get inside, it’s going to stay like that, cold and metal inside of you.”
Gar wants to answer, wants to tell Vic what an asshole he is in a way that’s totally a compliment, wants to tell Vic how perfect he is and how much Gar loves him. But all he can manage are these pitiful noises that get bitten off every time Vic fucks back into him.
God, fucking him so hard, and Gar’s cock slaps against his stomach as Vic forces him further up the couch. The hand on Gar’s hip begins to slide upward, and the pulsar dials on Vic’s hands always feel warmer than body temperature, even now when they haven’t been used in hours and Vic’s completely disconnected his offence systems.
Cold phallus inside of him, the heat of that dial on Vic’s palm as it moves over Gar’s chest, chill metal of his fingertips as he rubs Gar’s nipple, and Gar’s whining now, constant run of high-pitched noise. Feels so right, like he’s been waiting for this since the day he and Vic met, like this is all he’s ever needed, and Vic’s groaning in time to every one of Gar’s gasps and mewls.
Getting close, feeling his balls tightening, feeling the string of pre-come he’s leaked across his belly, and Vic braces both hands on either side of Gar’s head and stares down at him, human eye looking so hungry. “One last feature,” he hisses, like talking’s almost beyond him, which is totally understandable because words are definitely beyond Gar right now.
And then there’s movement, shit, vibration, the phallus buzzing deep within him, pressing down across his prostate. And Gar’s screaming, he can hear himself but he can’t stop. Vic’s growling above him, and Gar’s shaking, seizing up, clinging to Vic’s shoulders as his back arches off the couch. Vertigo taking him, everything spinning as he comes hard enough that it almost hurts, and even with his eyes closed he can see the red glow of Vic’s cyborg eye staring down at him.
Vic’s panting above him when Gar finally finds the strength to open his eyes again. His fingers have punched holes through the couch cushions on either side of Gar’s head.
“Successful experiment?” Gar manages, voice raspy, and Vic laughs.
They’re both kind of slow as they get themselves cleaned up, both blissed out Gar’s endorphins. Vic slides out carefully, and Gar’s hole tries to tighten around the phallus like he can hold on just that little bit longer.
“You’re like a green shag carpet,” Vic teases as he strokes over the hair below Gar’s bellybutton with a warm, damp cloth.
“Not all of us have easy wipe-down surfaces,” Gar shoots back.
In an unspoken agreement, the electrodes stay attached a little longer.
Gar eventually curls up against Vic’s side, metal still as cool as ever, Vic’s arm slung over his shoulders. The attachable phallus is still in place on Vic’s groin, and they’re probably both staring at it like it’s the most amazing thing in the universe. Although, as far as Gar’s concerned, it is.
“Soooo,” Gar drawls after a while. “Coolant and vibration, huh?”
“Figured you might enjoy the surprise,” Vic smirks.
Gar snorts at the understatement. “Whelp, you won’t be catching me off-guard with it a second time,” he announces confidently.
“Maybe not,” Vic agrees, and there’s a dangerous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But this was only the prototype. Wait until you see what other features I have in mind.”
Gar’s pretty sure it’s not just his imagination when Vic’s cyborg eye flares at Gar’s needy little whimper.