Constants

It had been a long milicycle.

Clu rested uncomfortably in his seat, having given up long ago on looking out over the city, trying to somehow staunch the fatigue and stress that was settled in his head and along his shoulders. It wasn't often he was irate -- far from it in most instances one would be expected to be upset. The current string of events that had been following him recently, though, was apparently stacking up on him, unecessary data retention being his biggest foe.

So the Programmer sat, head leaned against what was supposed to be a comfortable chaise back, arms and legs spread in an ungainly sprawl. He had ordered solitude, which Jarvis and his guard had respectfully given him.

But there was always one bug in every system.

Eyes opening when the sound finally registered, Clu lifted his head, blinking a few times. The cavernous expanse of his domacile made it somewhat hard to pinpoint the exact location of the noise, but... he turned, looking over his left shoulder. Sure enough, amidst the sharp shafts of shadow that stabbed through the room, the tell-tale orange dabs of light gave him away.

As if he had been trying to hide in the first place.

Clu shook his head and chuckled as he turned back around. He heard the near-silent footfalls of his most perfect creation as he approached, stopping to stand at the end of the chaise, staring silently out the window that made up the wall in front of them and out over a glowing, bustling, rain-spattered city.

"Things are changing, Rinzler, even if we can't see it," Clu said cryptically, seeing his enforcer nod slightly. "Change can bring a lot of things. Unexpected results. Anomalies. Glitches. It's always nice to have a constant in such an unpredictable setting."

Eyes travelled the lines of Rinzler's profile. He could practically see the streams of code the other Program was running, converting, processing. Constant, unstopping, unchanging. Clu allowed himself a small smile, and he lifted his chin, calling quietly the other's name.

"Yes, Programmer?" Rinzler turned his head, looking to his reclined master, who was staring at him in return. He had heard the tiredness in Clu's voice. It was at times like these, something stirred in the dark recess of his core, and he -- worried, for his Programmer.

"Come here," Clu beckoned with a hand, and Rinzler shifted to approach, hovering by the Programmer's knee. Clu took hold of the Program's wrist, pulling him down into his lap and returning to his otherwise motionless position.

Rinzler folded, not unfamiliar with the actions, into his Programmer's lap, settling himself into some kind of centered stillness, a hand coming to rest across the array of circuitry on Clu's chest. The Programmer murmured, something Rinzler did not catch, pressing his face to a black and orange lit chest.

It was a slow declination from there on, Rinzler humming low alongside the corrupted buzz in his throat.

"Perhaps you should rest," Rinzler rasped out. He was aware of the unbalance in his Programmer's energy and processes, and continued the press of his hand to Clu's circuitry, as if trying to communicate his own energy to him.

Clu mumbled indistinctively, and the two were quiet after that aside from Rinzler's constant hum. The Programmer had his eyes shut, absorbing his enforcer's touches and closeness, the minute pleasure of having another program so close he could practically feel his data flow. It was from there, that another change happened.

"I am glad to have you, Rinzler. Truly," Clu spoke softly, smiling against the black program's shoulder. Rinzler leaned back, looking at his Programmer. The sentiment was strange, but it was not unappreciated. Instead of speaking, he drug his fingers over the ladder of circuits over Clu's heart again, conveying in his silence what he could not say.

Clu regarded his pet, a hand lifting to ghost fingers along the back of Rinzler's neck, tapping a command against his armor and deactivating the lower half of his helmet. Lips and chin were revealed, and Clu leaned to press a kiss to them, smile ever present.

Rinzler stilled for his Programmer's actions, then returned the chaste embrace. It was a strange affection, but he did not deny it. Did not prevent himself from wanting it -- when Clu was giving.

The Programmer leaned back, some bit of calm having returned to him, and the heaviness in his shoulders had lifted just slightly, feeling as if he'd be able to finally rest. He paid bare attention to Rinzler as he drummed fingers lightly across his master's circuits, leaning to nuzzle at a bared neck. Clu did pay attention though when Rinzler nipped at exposed skin, biting on a surprised groan.

"Not good to leave yourself vulnerable, Programmer," the raspy comment came, amused, and Rinzler pressed his nose to Clu's uniform, inhaling slowly. It was so much better, unfiltered and close.

"Not if I want to recharge, no. On the other hand..." Clu trailed off, processes whirring and leaving the statement open. Rinzler managed to rattle a near-unheard chuckle, palming Clu's chest once more before shifting to sit on his knees.

"I will leave you recharge then," the enforcer said, receiving another embrace of lips against his own neck before his helmet was buttoned up, leaving him faceless once more. Clu leaned back in his seat, once more eyeing the lines of his enforcer's frame.

"Mm. I suppose I should thank you," he muttered with a smirk, although for what, he left unanswered, and he nodded dismissively to the program. "Goodnight, Rinzler."

Rinzler was at the door of the room before he spoke one last time.
"Goodnight, Programmer."