wahhh I'm honored it's one of your faves. have some post-bar whump! 💙🤖
“What are you doing?”
“Putting the dishes away,” EB answered. “If you have any laundry, I’ll do that, too. Then, I’ll clean the fridge, restock groceries, take out the trash, mop the floors…”
Tommy could practically hear him adding more tasks to his internal clipboard.
“I don’t want you to do my housework,” he said, brows knitting.
“Y-you don’t? I thought—oh. My mistake.” EB's shoulders slumped a bit, his LED blinking red.
They needed to talk. Tommy needed to confess a few things—and he was ready to. He just didn’t want to do it in their current state.
EB was putting the plate back on the drying rack when his knee unexpectedly buckled. Of course, it was his bad leg, and since he was still Thirium-drunk and lacking coordination of his biocomponents, he went down fast and hard with a shout.
Tommy shot forward and caught him just in time to avoid a collision. “I got you, I got you.”
Tommy made a mental note to check EB’s knee joint soon. It clearly needed maintenance.
EB was quiet as Tommy pulled him up and steadied them, his arms around Tommy’s neck. He let go sooner than Tommy wanted, using the counter as support instead.
“The plate.” It hadn’t been as lucky, in pieces by their feet. “I’ll clean it up.”
“No,” Tommy said, frowning again. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of it later.”
That seemed to make EB's shoulders slump even further, his head hanging. “I’m not doing anything right,” he said. “I’m a bad bot.”
How wrong he was, and not in the way he thought. Tommy was the bad person. He wished he could’ve made EB happy tonight instead of how he was now. Miserable. Thinking he somehow wasn’t good enough for Tommy fuck up Kinard.
“EB, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
But it was like EB hadn’t heard him at all. What he said next was completely mystifying.
“You’re going to put me back in the b-b-box, aren’t you?” His tone was filled with dread. Rising panic.
The box?
Something cold slid down Tommy’s spine. “What?”
When he caught EB’s eyes, all the color had left—irises and pupils replaced with black and white, scattered and dancing like TV static. “Please, sir. D-don’t leave me in there again. Don’t let her disable my optical units. I-I don’t like the dark.”
If that wasn’t incredibly fucking alarming. What had happened to him? And who? Sir—a previous owner? He would’ve thought Gerrard if not for the inclusion of her.
Tommy cupped EB’s jaw, trying to pull him back from whatever nightmare he was visiting. “Hey, I’m not putting you anywhere, EB. I’m not going to disable anything. We’re just going to relax for a while.”
Emphasis on the we.
EB shuddered, taking a gulp of oxygen. His breath was hot when he exhaled, his fans likely working hard from the sudden stress. He blinked a few times. “T-Tommy?”
There he was.
“That’s right. It’s Tommy. Focus on me.”
EB nodded after a beat too long. “Confirmed. F-focusing. On you.”
Tommy smiled gently, injecting as much warmth into his voice as possible. “Good bot.”
EB made a needy noise—a crackle, a vibrating buzz. “I-I am?”
“Absolutely are.” He was. No doubt about it. “Come with me.”
Tommy led EB to the sectional in his living room. It was big and comfortable. Tommy coaxed him to sit and then lie down with soft commands. EB followed them eagerly.
EB’s head settled on his lap. When Tommy placed a hand on his stomach to ground him, in the spot just beneath his synthetic ribs, EB grabbed it and held on tightly—like Tommy was going to take it away at any moment. His grip wasn’t bone-breaking, but it was enough to cut off Tommy’s circulation in a minute. Tommy didn’t tell him to ease up or let go.
Tommy’s other hand found his curls, petting through them. “I’m right here,” he murmured. EB’s eyes were still snowing, still haunted, but he watched Tommy raptly, hanging on to his every word. “I’m not going to leave you alone. I’m not going anywhere.”
EB hiccuped. Thirium leaked down his temples. Tommy wiped it away slowly as the blue of EB’s irises started to return. “Promise?”
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Spikey is an adorable robobeast hedgehog who’s wants to make new friends from Cute Creatures Compendium, my latest book that’s LIVE on Kickstarter (also FREE stat blocks!) https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/catilus/cute-creatures-compendium-by-catilus
Creature Spotlight: Spikey
Originally crafted as a pet for Sporkus’ children, the first Spikey was tossed aside and forgotten when the demigod’s children received a batch of shiny new toys.
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What do you think? :)
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EB was sidewinding, bumping into Tommy on almost every step. The shots were finally hitting his processors.
Tommy steadied him with an arm around his waist.
“I may have m-m-miscalculated my tolerance,” EB admitted. His cheeks were deeply Thirium flushed. He giggled, then burped up a bunch of metallic blue bubbles. One popped in front of Tommy’s nose, making it wrinkle. “O-oops!”
EB reached up, clumsily attempting to wipe Tommy's face. Tommy caught his wrist and lowered it gently. He patted EB’s hip, smiling. “Okay, we need to cut you off. I think it's time to go home.”
“Already?” EB turned towards Tommy. “Can I go h-home with you instead?” he asked, eyes glimmering.
Tommy’s chest clenched immediately.
Technically, if Tommy took EB to his house without authorization, he would be stealing LAFD property.
“You want me to botnap you?” Tommy asked.
He wasn’t against the idea. Fuck Gerrard.
EB was still giving him the robopuppy eyes. They were getting even wetter. “I know it’s wrong. I don’t want you to get in trouble, Tommy. It just… gets l-l-lonely at the station when you’re not there.”
Tommy had no idea EB was capable of loneliness. He wondered what it was like to exist at the station. How long had EB been feeling this way? Just for a little while, or since his assembly day?
“I'll be on my best b-behavior. I’ll be so good you might even want to k-keep me.”
The ache in Tommy’s chest grew tenfold. That really twisted the knife. “EB…”
“I’ve had dreams about it before.” EB smiled. It was sweet. Confessional. His lips looked especially full and pink. His LED pulsed blue. “If you were my owner instead of Captain, and I was your botfriend.”
Tommy's brain broke. He wasn’t going to survive hearing more of this. “...You can dream?”
And not only that, but EB dreamt of him? Of them? Together?
“I can construct visual scenarios with various o-o-outcomes,” EB answered, blinking slowly and swaying on the spot. Tommy tightened his grip on him. “Like dreams, they're not real.”
“I didn’t know,” Tommy said. Choked, really.
“If it was possible, would you want that? Would you want me?” EB asked. His tone glitched on the question, going tinny. The hope in it was painful.
Tommy’s throat clicked as he swallowed. Of course I’d want you, EB.
How could he not?
Someone bumped into him from behind, jostling them and reminding Tommy of exactly where they were and who he was. In a crowded bar with his very masculine, red-blooded coworkers just a few feet away.
EB's big, mechanical Thirium pump was going to get damaged. Just like Tommy’s heart had years ago.
Self-loathing more than usual, Tommy let go of EB and dodged the question. “I can’t talk about this here. How long will it take for you to regulate your Thirium?”
EB’s expression fell.
So did Tommy’s stomach, straight to his fucking feet.
“Approximately three hours and forty-two minutes,” EB answered quietly.
“We probably shouldn’t take you straight back to the station. Not until you’ve sobered up. C’mon.”
@118dailydrabble for day 93 prompt compel ⚙︎ rated: t ⚙︎ pair: buck/tommy ⚙︎ tags: part 12 of android au
Tommy had EB’s schematics up on his tablet, glasses perched on his nose. He noticed EB’s LED spinning rapidly. “Nervous?”
“K-kinda.”
“I’ll take good care of you,” Tommy assured.
He wasn't a great person, but he wasn't Gerrard.
EB ducked his head, smiling. Such a bashful bot sometimes. “Thank you, Tommy.”
Tommy stared. He felt compelled to lean over, lift EB’s chin and—whoa, okay, no.
Tommy pulled EB's leg onto his lap, refocusing. He coaxed EB's panel open, revealing his cracked inner tubes that were steaming, friction-burnt. Tommy blew on them gently.
EB let out a staticky sigh, relaxing. “Oh, you are my favorite human.”
Tommy chuckled. “You just haven’t been around enough of us. Ready?”
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let's take it back to the start! here's a snip of the first chapter. 💙
“Makes me sick, man,” Sal said, snapping Tommy back to the present. He nearly flinched—as if Sal had been reading his thoughts. “How long until we’re all replaced by those overpriced toasters?”
Ah. Right.
Tommy wondered, too. Most of the other stations already had androids. He shrugged. “We still have a few advantages over them.”
Sal snorted. “Like what? They don’t need to eat, and they never get tired, so they can work twenty-four-seven. They come pre-programmed, so they don’t gotta go through the academy. They can throw cars like they’re paper airplanes. They don’t even need to be paid. We’re cooked.”
Yeah, that was all valid.
“They don’t have real emotions like we do,” Tommy said. “They feel nothing and will never genuinely understand us. They don’t have a heart. They’re machines. This one doesn’t even have a name, just a model number.”
He felt idiotic before he even shut his mouth. As if having any of that made him a better firefighter. Being emotional and feeling too much made him weaker. It was a career killer. He shouldn’t have said anything.
“Sounds like the perfect employee to me.” Sal smirked, temper mostly calmed. “You’re such a softy, Tom. No heart.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. He knew Sal was going to razz him. “Fuck off.”
“Nah. You’re gonna come spot me.” Sal threw a heavy arm around his shoulders and steered them toward the gym. Tommy didn’t resist. “If only the robos could have one like yours, huh?” He poked Tommy with a thick index finger. “You’ve got a big, gooey marshmallow in there.”
“Don’t know how you ever got that impression.”
“Just bein’ around you, babe.”
⚙︎
Upstairs, alone and unseen, EB600 looked down at his chest. He frowned, placing his hand over the spot where a heart would be if he were human, and listened.
There was no rhythmic lub-dub, lub-dub. He felt no steady thump, thump.
Instead, his Thirium pump sloshed gently, went tick, tick, hsss.
