Archive of Our Own

Big Daddy kept reminding him that he wasn't going to get jumped in the middle of the night. The Outer Ring had its dangers surely, but at least, with the members of the Sons of Calydon nearby, the likelihood of it was significantly less.

Lighter was aware.

He just couldn't help the night terrors that plagued him.

Like a night-stalking predator, the ghosts of the people he knew haunted him. ‘The shades are because of an eye injury’, the lies slipped through his teeth far too easily for a man who claimed to be more honest than not. The shades just made it easier to hide from the eyes of the dead as they stared him down. They had passed but not him. Their bodies were lost but he was intact. He was supposed to go with them. He was supposed to die with them.

But, everyone else he talked to told him he was lucky.

What luck it was to live with the burden of those lost lives. Truly, he was lucky.

It had been several months now since Big Daddy had pulled him out of the fighting rings. Most of the weeks since then passed in a blur. The last of his wounds had all but healed over now, except the eye was probably never going back to full use. Not unless he can pay for some life-changing modification. He wasn't ready to turn to that life just yet. It wasn’t like it was totally busted, or anything—so, just like everything else, Lighter would make do. Caesar tried to make small talk all the time, inviting him for another drink, another meal, another ride around the towns nearby, but she’d never double down when Lighter politely declined. The other members danced around him, unsure of what to make of this man who felt more animal than real person. Well—all but one.

The damned robot had no sense of self-preservation.

Or, maybe, as the Champion of this newly formed gang descended from something with a rich history that Lighter didn’t understand, the robot had no need to be scared of any kind of threats. He was the best of the best, unbeaten in every sense of the word. Why would Billy Kid the Red Scarf need to falter at the sight of Lighter’s unfriendly, stiff attitude?

The real reasons evaded Lighter.

So, when he walked along the dusty trail out of his cramped bedroom and found himself looking at the very same metallic heap that he had been thinking about, Lighter once again felt the universe playing tricks on him.

Robots didn’t sleep. They charged—some had modifications to extend their battery life too. He wondered how many modifications Billy had since purchased. ‘Intelligent Tactical Unit’ was what he called himself on their introduction. Lighter thought that was a mouthful, specifically named by those uppity research folks.

Lighter took another step, and Billy’s head moved. He turned from watching the moon to watching lighter. The LEDs in his head rearranged itself into a friendly smile.

“Lighter, my brother. Another sleepless night for you?”

Lighter didn’t respond.

“Not in a talking mood, huh? That’s alright. Don’t wanna disturb the people anyway. You can come sit with me. We don’t have to say anything.”

Narrowing his eyes, Lighter broke their gaze first. Friendliness was still a skill that Lighter was re-learning. In the rings, all those niceties exchanged were just a mask to get something done, to make you lay your guard down. It invited weakness.

Still, it wasn’t like sleep was coming for him.

Thus, Lighter crossed the distance, the sound of his combat boots shuffling across dusty ground filling the dead silence between them before he finally found himself by Billy’s side, leaning against a metal rail that was just tall enough to double as a high seat. His eyes fixed forward, and beyond where the streetlights reached, the rest was a foreign darkness to him. Endless desert and death.

Not too different from the slums, he supposed.

“Want me to turn on my heating module?”

“No.”

“Alright. But, if you get chilly, you can always ask.”

Silence settled between them. If Lighter focused just enough, he could hear the click and whir of Billy’s machinery, a barely-there white noise that brought about a strange comfort to Lighter’s unsettling state of mind.

They must have stood there for hours in silence. Billy was comfortable in Lighter’s company. Lighter was too tense to start a conversation. Somehow, that worked for the both of them until dawn began to color the skies on their horizon a gentle pink. Finally, Billy lifted himself off the rail, settling a relaxed hand on his hip as he offered Lighter another smile—upturned, curved slits for eyes as he cocked his head.

“Wanna go for a ride?”

It must’ve been nice to be Billy. Confident, self-assured and fully in control of the things happening around him. He could freely go around the Outer Ring without a single doubt, and rival gangs would simply cower at the sight of him. It’s something else that's entirely frustrating on the realization that Lighter would give anything to be him.

Perhaps, that’s the irony of it all.

“The rest will be worried if I'm gone when they wake.”

“S'not a big deal. I'll let ‘em know. And, we can fetch breakfast for the rest, too.”

Lighter couldn't find another excuse. He didn't know whether it would feel worse to reject the robot or to go for a joyride.

“Alright.”

That's how he found himself riding on the endless tar roads, his bike purring warmly alongside Billy's as they headed southbound. Further from the city, and deeper into the outskirts. Everywhere was the scent of dust and rust—though, Lighter didn't know if that was the scent of the desert itself or if it was the lingering scent of his vehicle.

They pulled up at a diner in the middle of nowhere.

There was a gang that had been lingering here, though they didn’t linger for much longer. Rather, they took one look at Billy and drove off without another word. It felt overwhelming in the shadow of someone whose name alone sends them running for the hills.

“Burger?” Billy asked abruptly. Lighter reminded where they were as he pulled his gaze away from the disappearing silhouettes of the gang that had driven as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

“For breakfast?”

“Well, I don't eat. Don't have the taste modules installed for that yet. From what I hear from Big Sis, the meat patties here are great, though.”

Lighter blinked. He supposed his other use beside the robot this morning was obvious. He was a food sampler. Granted, he wasn’t sure how much use he was sampling when he had grown used to tough, bland foods—scraps they gave him to survive the next fight. That was just part of life now, too. “Burgers, then. You got enough to pay?”

“Yep. Don't worry about it, Lil Bro—my treat.”

By ‘my treat’, it meant he'd get his allowance back from Big Daddy again later.

That was just gang bureaucracy. Lighter was still learning the ropes. Then again, it wasn't too different from the mercenary group he led. Or, he supposed the bureaucracy of the fighting ring. Or, anything else he'd been a part of. Everything had a pecking order. Money was always tight. Everyone wanted things they couldn't always get. It was important to keep it all under tight control, else favoritism would become a problem. Lighter knew a little too much about that, too.

Lighter had to wonder at what point did it cross the line of familiarity and turn into something foreign?

Big Daddy had pulled him from the ring because they needed more hands on deck. Another fighter. Another one to protect the remnants of their broken gang. This wasn't any different from fighting to earn a living. This wasn't any different from running jobs in the Hollows. It was always the same old. Always his life on the line. Always the fighting, but the rewards were never his to reap. How many more years of this?

Again, the thought crept into his mind—he should've gone in with them. With Nick, and—

“Hey—stay with me now, Brother.”

Metal fingers adjusted the shades that had been sliding down his nose. He could smell motor oil lingering on metal, and almost, just barely, the scent of his red leather jacket, freshly oiled.

Instinctively, Lighter jerked backwards, scared by the proximity, the sudden contact. It was too much. Too kind. Too close. Too much of everything that made Lighter feel too vulnerable all over again. He was more rabid than human, he reminded himself. He reacted by swinging right, almost smashing his knuckles straight into the other’s head before another metal hand gripped him tight, stopping him from disaster.

“Easy, Lil’ Bro. It's just me, Billy.”

Billy would've been fine if Lighter had landed a hit on him. Lighter would've probably broken all the bones in his knuckles. The fight de-escalated as easily as that. Even then, it didn't stop his heart from racing, his breath quickening as his flight or fight had been triggered. His gaze was wild as he met with bright yellow eyes.

“Lighter,” Billy spoke calmly, meeting his gaze squarely, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Everything was quiet.

Then, their hands slowly lowered.

In Lighter’s eyes, the sight of the robot was nothing more than lights and wires and metals. Somehow, that was safer than a burly human looking to spill blood. Safer than an Ethereal that wouldn't die. It wasn't an attack. It wasn't a bad thing. It was just Billy. And somehow, that thought brought about more comfort than he could put to words.

“Sorry,” he said softly, voice barely a whisper.

“It’s alright. It happens. Lucky I stopped you in time, right?”

Lighter stepped back, pulling himself from Billy's grasp as he let out a choked sound of agreement.

Lucky.

That word haunted him all too much.

“Our order’s ready. Let’s go,” he moved quickly towards the counter, just barely stopping himself from moving to run out the door instead.

The Sons of Calydon were busy with keeping their reputation afloat amongst the rival gangs. There was always a score to settle, always a new fight to prove their worth. Billy couldn’t be everywhere at once, and that was what Big Daddy needed Lighter around for.

All of that running around led him to crash in the evening, sleeping right after dinner only to wake in the dead of the night. There was never enough sleep, but it wasn’t anything Lighter could do to help himself. The only thing that was really helping him was long nights with the robot. It chased the thoughts away, if only for a little moment of solidarity.

Late nights and early mornings had begun to be a routine between the robot and the ex-mercenary. Oftentimes, they'd sit in silence. Lighter had the sound of Billy’s engine memorized. Three clicks meant his modules were running a self-evaluation. Two clicks meant that Billy was adjusting something. One click was more like a pop of the knuckle, just something to ease the tension.

There were some nights where Billy would talk. Lighter's replies were still few and far in between, but he didn't give any indication for Billy to stop talking. The talking, even if it was about the most random things like Starlight Knight, or whatever comic book superhero he had caught wind of from parsing through dusty old books left behind in the dust, was welcome. It gave Lighter a reasonable distraction. Even rarer were moments where Billy would manage to get a chuckle out of Lighter, soft and unexpected even to the human himself.

Perhaps, a part of him yearned for the company more than anything.

‘Stay with me’. The words lingered in Lighter’s head. It grounded him.

So, he stayed.

Billy always greeted him with a smile. Sometimes, the little lights arranged themselves into a happier expression. Other times, they seemed more weary. Lighter didn’t mind the weariness, after all, it was more than understandable when Billy wore the Champion’s title in the way he did. At the very least, even as a robot, Billy didn't bother to hide the way he felt.

“Hey,” he started softly before he idly appended the title at the back of his sentence, “Brother.”

“Yes?”

“Can you turn on your heating module?”

Surprise etched itself onto Billy’s screen momentarily. Then, Billy inched closer, slowly because he knew Lighter was the jumpy sort. When their arms were just barely touching, a purr started in Billy’s core, and soon enough, Lighter could feel the warmth beside him. It wasn't anything special. Nothing too different from a campfire or a generator, really. But, it was welcome.

Billy didn't say a word even as the air around them began to warm.

If Lighter had to guess why, it was either the surprise, or just the fact that if the robot had said anything at all, Lighter would've gotten up and left out of embarrassment. Maybe the robot did know him well. Or, maybe he wanted the company as much as Lighter did.

“Should we go for a ride?” Billy asked first as the sky began to lighten up. It was a normal question, practically routine now as opposed to when he first posed the question to Lighter a few weeks ago.

By now, Lighter had seen this sunrise a hundred times over. Every day was a little different, but every day still had a little profound thought that found itself embedded into Lighter's mind; another day where he lived to tell the tale. Another night where he could simply take it all in. Reflect on all he's done. Grieve the people he had lost. It was a little cathartic—to breathe in the air of the desert and find each exhale a little lighter than the last. Perhaps he was getting used to the dusty air, perhaps he was finding peace—making peace with his ghosts—after all that had happened since then.

Lighter supposed he had never had that chance before.

He also never thought this familiar feeling would—

No.

He turned to stare at Billy, nipping it at the bud before it could even try to bloom right there in the forefront of his consciousness. Even then, even if he tried to rip the thoughts to shreds before his eyes, he knew it had already taken root.

He wanted to say, ‘let’s stay a little longer’.

Instead, he nodded his head as he said, “Let's get something new for breakfast. Ride around a bit until we find a place we haven't seen before. Think the rest would like that.”

Lighter was in a hurry to get on the road. To get away from Billy’s lulling warmth. The last time he had let his guard down like that, it didn’t end well. The necklace he wore grew colder, chilling claws that rested in the form of a silver chain around his neck. A reminder. He could pay in blood to settle his debts, he could go into the Hollows over and over to lay his grief to rest, but what's done was done. He had to remember that it was himself that led them there. His own weakness. His own traitorous feelings.

Speeding up a little, Lighter forced his engine to growl out a little louder as he tried to overtake Billy on the highway.

Not only did he have to fight off the growing ache of his own heart, he also had to do it while constantly lurking in the shadow of the Outer Ring’s finest Champion. By all means, this guy should’ve been his rival. Big Daddy pulled him out of the fighting scene to fight for the Sons of Calydon—only for Lighter to find out that the Sons of Calydon already had someone to fight for them.

And, this robot was certainly a damned good fighter.

Just as he pulled ahead on the road, Billy suddenly began to speed up once more. Through the visor of his helmet, Lighter could just barely make out the tension in Billy’s usually relaxed demeanor. His body leaning over the fuel tank as he sped past Lighter and—

They both pulled to a screeching halt when Billy cut in front of Lighter and braked.

“Billy, what the—”

“Get down, Lighter!”

Gunshots.

Lighter ducked, hearing the blare of shots being fired. Ahead of him, Billy was already springing off his own bike and drawing his weapon. From where Lighter sat, he could make out a dozen heads, maybe more between the rocks. Surely, Billy didn’t pack enough ammo for a gunfight at sunrise.

That said, Lighter was already in his comfort zone.

The Outer Ring was foreign territory, but fights were something he knew a thing or two about.

With Billy serving as a distraction, Lighter moved in to disarm the group on the left. By now, muscle memory had kicked in as he kicked the gun aside and dodged the swing of a bat by a hair’s breadth. Lighter had taken on fights where he had been outnumbered before, and his opponents were just some desert rats looking to stir trouble.

A hit to the nose, and then another throw to the ribs, he knocked out another lackey, sending them flying through the dust and onto the ground. Lighter knew how to make sure his opponents weren’t going to get up anytime soon. These were, of course, skills he had to master in the ring.

As he finished with his handful, however, he turned to watch Billy. Originally, he had every intention to join the fight.

But, then, he found himself entranced instead. Billy had a method to his madness in all the ways that made Lighter wish he had a recording of it, if only to learn those moves. Lighter thought Billy was good with his pistols—well, he hadn’t seen him use his fists until this moment and realized that the pistols were probably just a basic programme in contrast to the true strength of a Tactical Assault Unit.

Joining the fight would only throw Billy off his momentum.

They outnumbered him, probably a dozen to one, and yet, Billy made it look like he was the predator amongst a herd of herbivores. Although Lighter would never try to describe violence in such a way, he found that the sight of Billy’s fluid movements were undoubtedly ‘beautiful’. His heart squeezed in his throat as blood throbbed at his knuckles.

Lighter had already forgotten all about the fight—the space in his mind was taken over by the sight of their Champion.

With one final blow, Billy sent a man thrice his size flying onto his back. The man wasn’t going to get up for seconds. Lighter knew he could have never done that—not with his bare fists, anyway.

Slowly, he made his way up to Billy, finding the way the sunrise cast a reflection across the screen on his head oddly enthralling.

Maybe he did have a thing for robots. No, he corrected himself before he could finish the thought—at his core, he knew it wasn’t about robots or power or even the environment. If Lighter had met Billy even before he started his mercenary gang, he knew he would’ve been just as fascinated, and just as infatuated. Billy was just the kind of person Lighter was inevitably, undoubtedly, and painfully drawn to.

“That was easy,” the words slipped past Lighter’s lips as he assessed the situation before him. That was not easy. It was Billy who made it look easy. Still, Lighter continued speaking, “Maybe you and I should go a few rounds just to show these guys how it’s done.”

“Don’t challenge me to a fight, Lil’ Bro. We both know I’ll win,” Billy teased as he passed Lighter by, lightly bumping him in the shoulder. How they were cracking jokes despite having beaten several men to unconsciousness just minutes earlier was beyond him.

Lighter only scoffed in response, “Who knows. Maybe one of these days, I’ll get the upper hand.”

He said that, but he knew that he could never measure up to Billy’s combat prowess. After all, he had just witnessed it in action, and wholly understood the difference in their capabilities.

“Then, when that day comes, I’d gladly show you all my secrets. We’ve got each other’s backs for life—no matter what.”

No matter what.

Quietness settled between them, a thick, suffocating type of tension that only seized Lighter by his throat. Didn’t he hear those words before?

“Chin up, Brother,” Billy said softly, a hand settling gently atop Lighter’s shoulder before it squeezed the flesh there in reassurance. He gently steered Lighter towards the direction of their bikes, walking at a relaxed pace as though the people they had beat up weren’t right behind them.

“Just… you remind me of someone.”

“Whoever that is—leave them behind. What’s here and now, that’s what’s important. I’m not like you or any other person. I can’t die unless my core module is totally fried. So, trust me when I say this, I’ve got your back for as long as you’ve got mine, Lighter.”

The fact that Billy offered these comforting words to Lighter wasn’t reassuring. Or rather, it was so reassuring to the point that his heart had started a fluttering pace in his chest, thumping away in the space of his diaphragm like it was fighting the most intense battle of its life.

Maybe it was.

“It’s not as easy as you say it is, Billy.”

“Maybe so. But, I know only the strongest people get through these pains. Humans only have one life—so, why waste it on the past?” Billy’s hand moved from Lighter’s shoulder to find a new place on the back of Lighter’s neck, gently pulling Lighter closer until their heads met, flesh to cool metal. Lighter would’ve flinched if it wasn’t for the fact that he had been expecting the chill, “Whatever baggage you’re keeping, Lighter—I may not feel things the way humans do, nor would I understand the things you’ve been through—but, I know that you should be able to proudly tell those people of your accomplishments, rather than live in that dread of separation.”

Despite Billy’s claims of not understanding what Lighter may have gone through, his words struck bullseye regardless. Perhaps, that was the charm of the Red Scarf. It was true—of course, Lighter wanted to tell Nick all about the good deeds he had done since the night they parted.

He watched Billy’s expression shift, from the serious mask he wore to something much more gentle. He wasn’t aware that robots could arrange their features to look like this.

The proximity to another—emotionally and physically—was both cathartic and damning for a man like Lighter.

Lighter knew nothing could stop it now as his heart thundered at a jackhammer’s pace. In a matter of weeks, night after night spent in Billy’s company, Lighter found himself spiralling deeper and deeper into the terribly reluctant yearning for Billy. He wanted to know more. He needed to see how far his admiration could stretch for this robot. He ached for the knowledge that this robot kept. A human’s true flaw—their curiosity. The difference between himself and Billy was obvious. One was a Champion, the other was a mercenary. Billy was a robot. He was a human. He was falling for Billy nonetheless.

And, what a painful, lonely fall it would be.

“Let’s get back to the rest,” Billy said, wiping blood off the metal of his torso as if it were nothing more than some motor oil, “We need to let them know the fight happened. Best to do it in person before anything else. Let’s go, Lighter.”

Lighter glanced back at the groaning, moaning mess of bodies sprawled across the desert ground. A few minutes ago, they were surrounded, and now… Well. He never had any doubts about Billy. If anything, the respect he felt only tightened the knot further into his stomach, signing away his rights to deny these feelings any longer. Lighter adjusted his shades as he turned to his motorcycle, swinging his leg over the seat as he kicked the engine to a startling purr.

“Lead the way, Brother.”

Cold fingers splayed across his heated skin.

Lighter flinched, but didn't allow Billy to pull his hand away. Stay, he urged without words. His own hands wrapped around the robot’s wrists, keeping Billy’s hands pressed to the flesh of his torso.

Another heavy exhale came from Lighter’s lips as Billy dragged his hands further down the line of his body, settling against the jut of his hips. The warmth of Lighter’s body had sank into Billy's fingertips, making it just as warm as Lighter was. He liked that, too. He liked the way they matched. He liked Billy’s unyielding confidence. He liked the way Billy grabbed him, uncaring if he broke him.

Yes.

He pressed his forehead to Billy’s head, feeling the smoothness of his screen as opposed to what would be another human’s skin. His own hand drifted from its grip around Billy’s wrist up the length of his arm, taking in the feeling of the leather jacket he wore before it went higher still. Up his shoulders. Around his neck. Nestled into the white nest of hair on his head. It was softer than expected—though, Lighter didn't really know what he was expecting in the first place. What kind of hair did robots use? His eyes met Billy’s before they drifted downwards once more, taking in the sight of Billy's thumbs stroking the line of his pelvis. Instead of breaths mingling in their proximity, it was just the sound of Lighter's own heavy panting as the whirring of Billy’s modules grew louder.

Hands dipped beneath the line of his pants. His belt had long since been abandoned somewhere in the room, leaving it loose enough for Billy to roam under, cupping at the bulge of his cock that twitched to life under Billy's attention. He was already half-hard. He was so fucking horny for this damned robot. Pulling away, Lighter made quick work of his pants, peeling the skin-tight denim off of his hips and off his limbs.

“Touch me properly,” Lighter said, a roughness to his voice that wasn't there before. Fire burned in his gut, scorching the flare of his nerves to the point of oversensitivity.

Billy complied.

Precum oozed at the slit of his cock, as if already anticipating the pleasure that would come.

He pressed closer to Billy. He wanted more. He wanted to feel more. Indulge him. Indulge the desires he tried so hard to bury for years now. There was no room for these sort of self-gratifying acts in the rush of hollow raiding, and it was an even rarer occurrence when he was fighting off a debt. Here in the Outer Ring, there was nothing to distract himself from the burn of his yearning. There was nothing to stop him from wanting and taking.

“I've got you, Lighter,” Billy crooned as his hands curled around the girth of Lighter's length, metallic joints gently catching against his foreskin as he thumbed down the slit and smeared the wetness downwards to ease the friction.

Lighter’s grip on Billy’s hair tightened as he let out a low groan.

He could cum like this. Just another few more strokes. It had been far too long. He was far too pent up.

Fingers squeezed at his base with every stroke as Billy’s hands worked Lighter’s orgasm out of him. Lighter himself was rendered practically useless, suddenly all too aware of just how long it had been.

“Billy,” he exhaled, the name heavy on his lips as the pressure continued to build and build inside him—particles of heat threatening to explode outward in a deadly explosion. The difference was that he was the only one facing impending doom here. His body tensed, twisting and curling up into Billy’s touch, wanting and yearning and aching for more.

“Billy. Billy—” the name left his lips in a strangled gasp as he jolted upwards.

As if he had been taken out of a mirage, Lighter blinked at the dark room, finding himself sitting upright and alone. Against his pants was the strain of an erection, the wetness of his own ejaculate, and the remnants of something entirely too embarrassing to name.

His hands dragged across cold sheets, only further proving that all those sensations were mere products of his own imagination. A low sound of frustration spilled past his lips as he let his body flop backwards onto the mattress, feeling the flush in his cheeks all too harshly.

He was alone.

And, worst of all, he wasn’t just thinking about and crushing on the robot but dreaming about him, too.

The worst part about his dreaming was that it gave him a surplus of thoughts regarding Billy.

On the bright side, it chased away the nightmares.

That said, it didn’t mean any more sleep for Lighter. Rather, he found himself startling awake more often than not with a situation down under. Some nights, Lighter could will it away. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling until the excitement in his blood died down. Then, he’d go outside and find Billy already there, in the same spot as always, just waiting for him. Other nights, much like tonight, he found that the thoughts would not stop. They couldn’t.

So, Lighter found himself in scenarios like these—with his back to the headboard, his fingers around the girth of his cock and a vivid recreation of the events of his dreamscape happening behind closed eyelids.

He groaned low, pleasure coiling around his gut as he stroked himself at an even pace. In his mind’s eye, he could almost imagine Billy dipping into the mattress in front of him, the yellow in his eyes dimming as he focused his attention onto Lighter. The feeling of cooled metal tangled between Lighter’s limbs as Billy stroked him off, the same steady pace that Lighter mimicked in the real world.

“Fuck,” Lighter groaned, his head dropping back as his hips bucked ever so slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, trying to retain the sensation of Billy’s fingers on him, against him, around him. With another groan, the name toppled out of the twist of his tongue all too easily, “Billy.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The realization that footsteps were lingering outside his door dawned on him all too quickly.

His eyes shot open as his instincts reacted faster than his mind could process. In a split second, he was grabbing a dagger by his nightstand and swinging it straight for the entryway, watching the blade lodge itself into the thin, wooden panel and poke through the other side.

“Woah!”

Lighter’s heart sank further.

Of all people, did it have to be the one person he was jacking off to?

“What is it, Billy?” He said, raising voice just a notch—it was enough. He knew the robot probably heard him moaning in here regardless. God—if there was even any up there—was truly laughing at his endlessly poor timing

“I just wanted to talk.”

This damned robot had no sense of self-preservation. What time was it anyway? Four in the morning? Who wanted to talk at this hour? Then, again, Billy probably guessed Lighter was already awake given his history. The question of how much the robot managed to hear continued to hang in the air.

With a heavy sigh, Lighter rearranged the blanket over his legs, shuffling his pants back around his hips and hoping the other wouldn’t ask Lighter to get out of bed. That would be insurmountably worse, “Come in.”

“Alright—” Billy opened the door, his bright yellow eyes seemed the same as ever. He gazed at the tip of the blade still poking through the door as he stepped inside, pointing at it curiously, “Uh, do you want me to get that—”

“Leave it, Brother. Just out with it.”

“That’s the thing, it’s—” Creak. Billy shut the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the space of his cramped room. Lighter wondered if this was the start of one of his many dreams. Didn’t they usually start out like this? Billy entering his room and closing the door. Billy approaching the bed. Billy touching him, metal fingers against warmed skin. Lighter shooed the thoughts away with a shake of his head as Billy said, “It’s kind of sensitive information. But, I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

“What do you mean?”

Billy stopped walking, standing in the middle of the few feet of space between the bed and the door as he lifted a hand and ran it through wispy white locks. The hand continued downward, rubbing at the back of his neck in a sheepish motion. He did this when he was nervous. Though, Lighter didn’t know if Billy had ever portrayed this level of nervousness in Lighter’s presence. It was usually an action reserved for when he was talking to Caesar or Big Daddy.

“I’m leaving.”

Oh.

Lighter stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on Billy. What was he meant to say to that? What about this was something that required Lighter’s permission for?

“I’m sure you know about… why this gang was formed, and since then, I’ve been thinking about making my own life. A new start, and new people, and new things. They found me in some ruins, and I’ve been here for as long as my memory goes, but I realize that now would be as good of a time as any. And, of course, you know, I promised that I’d be here for you, so that’ll still be a promise I intend to keep. The people here in the Outer Ring are always gonna be family for me, and—”

“Billy,” he interrupted as the robot began to ramble, leaving the robot frozen in place as their eyes met, “I get it. You’re leaving, and I get what it’s like to need that sort of change in your life.”

“And, I wanted you to know that I keep my promises. And, I didn’t want to get up and leave without saying anything, after all, you’re part of the gang now, and if I leave, that means you’d have to step up as Champion. And then—” Billy paused, his hand once again rubbing the back of his neck before he quickly blurted out, “Were you… moaning my name?”

The turning point of this conversation was something Lighter did not see coming.

Lighter choked on an inhale, feeling his throat spasm and squeeze at the sudden question. Wasn’t Billy rambling on and on about leaving the Outer Ring for New Eridu? Was Billy actually lingering outside of Lighter’s door for longer than he realized? Red flooded his cheeks as his gaze fixated on a stain on the wall behind Billy, unable to meet the robot’s gaze any longer, “I wasn’t. Your hearing module is getting rusty.”

Billy stepped forward, and then, somehow, the room became even smaller as Billy closed in on him. Lighter felt like he could throw up—or pass out—or both. Both seemed likely now as he inched further up against the wall, as if trying to put as much space between himself and Billy as he could. Surely, the last memory Billy had of Lighter wouldn’t be overhearing Lighter crying out for Billy.

Surely.

“You’re not a good liar, Brother,” Billy said softly as he stopped at the foot of the bed, “I’m not going to make fun of you or tell anyone. I don’t want to leave with any regrets, and I don’t want to leave you with any either.”

Honestly, Lighter hated this most about Billy. For some reason, out of all the other humans and Thirens living in the Outer Ring, the person who understood him most was a robot made for combat. Surely, this was the punchline of a joke in some comedy skit. Lighter’s hands bunched the blanket beneath his fingertips as he considered his options.

“Even if I tell you the truth, what good would come out of it?” Lighter asked, his voice breathy from holding his breath. Truth be told, he was still contemplating on throwing up or passing out.

“Well… can I first ask why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you moaning my name?”

A groan left his lips, this one far from the ecstasy that was coiling in his gut just ten minutes prior. Instead, it’s one that was borne out of pure shame as he lifted his hand, burying his face into the cup of his palm. From here, he could feel how red he was as the skin of his cheeks practically burned through his fingers.

The silence between them grew heavier as Billy waited for a response. Lighter didn’t have any justifiable reasons, nor did he have any good lies. He was, simply put, a terrible person.

“I don’t know. It started with a dream—of you in my dream. Just like this, actually. You came onto me, and it clicked that whatever I was feeling for you; respect, admiration, awe… it went so much deeper than just emotional attachment. Originally, I tried to brush it off but then… the dreams kept coming, and eventually, I just rolled with it which brings me to why I was… calling for you.”

“So, I was touching you in your dream, too?”

“Do you have to say it out loud?” Lighter let out another muffled groan of embarrassment. In the back of his mind, he knew he could never find peace masturbating ever again. This was too much for someone as weak-willed about his affections as he was.

“Has it only been with me in mind?”

Lighter could’ve just buried himself alive here and now as he nodded slowly, “Since it started, I’ve only ever… It’s… Yeah. It’s been about you, Billy.”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to wring out any remnants of dignity left in him only to find that he had been completely squeezed dry of such privileges. Before this robot, Lighter was completely barren. Beyond that, Lighter never even considered being found out like this before. Did the robot even like humans, let alone men? Were they even capable of such things?

All of these confessions seemed pointless in the reality he was facing: Billy would leave regardless of what was said in this room. So, Lighter would be left with yearning and blue balls—which he supposed was better than yearning and grief.

“I’m sorry, Billy. It’s disrespectful of me, and I know it’s not—”

“No. It’s okay, Lighter. I mean—I get it. I’m pretty irresistible—but—um,” Lighter faltered at the end of his sentence, his expression furrowing into something indecipherable as his hands fidgeted around in the empty space between them. Some of his actions, Lighter noted, were strangely human. Was that learned behavior, or just part of his own capabilities as a fully functional AI construct? As he once again got distracted by the trail of his thoughts, Lighter snapped out of it as Billy rested a knee against the mattress, inching ever closer to Lighter.

Lighter stiffened. He felt like a mouse that had been cornered by a cat.

“Billy, what are you doing?”

“I don’t have much experience with this. Human intimacy and all. I mean, I’ve watched video tapes of it. Mostly for educational purposes and all, but… If I were to help you out…”

“No,” Lighter blurted out, shaking his head before Billy could finish the sentence, “I don’t need you to.”

That made the robot pause in his tracks. WIth how close Billy was, Lighter could hear the whirr and click of his engines. Three clicks. Pause. Whirr. Two clicks. Then, he cocked his head, “You don’t?”

“I don’t.”

“I figured that since you’re already doing it, I could help you out. I just thought that… maybe it would be easier for you—”

“I get it. But, I… I really don’t need you to.”

That was mostly because Lighter would’ve preferred if Billy just deleted this entire past hour from his memory. This entire conversation had been mortifying enough for Lighter. The last thing he needed was for Billy to take pity on him. He had enough self-pity to go around, especially now that he had been caught red-handed.

Billy straightened up once more. Then, he nodded as he stepped backwards, “Alright. Then, I’ll get going.”

This was it.

Lighter exhaled quietly, letting go of the breath that he had been desperately clinging to. Maybe Billy leaving was a good thing in and on itself. It meant that Lighter could put these feelings behind him and then, maybe, pretend all of this never happened at all. No adoration, no yearning, and certainly no dreams.

But, then what?

They would both know that it existed. Hidden carefully under the tide, it would be similar to a Hollow that shifted and changed its appearance on the surface, yet it remained the same beneath all of those lies.

If Billy left now, would Lighter be the only one between them hanging onto regrets? If Billy left and never returned, would Lighter continue to wish he had asked for just this one thing? No, he needed to take this chance. He needed to sate the sickening curiosity of his feelings even if it was done selfishly.

“Billy.”

“Yes?”

“Do you… really want to? Or, are you just curious?”

Billy hummed, resting a hand on a slim hip as he thought. Click. Click. Click. Then, he nodded, “I want to. But, I cannot deny that I am just a little curious.”

“C’mere,” Lighter said.

As the words spilled past his lips, Lighter was already making space for Billy on the bed. The robot approached with careful steps, as if the extra seconds were meant to allow Lighter to reconsider. Nothing was going to change his mind now, however. He had long since swallowed the shame and embraced the burning fire that had left him wanting for days and weeks now.

“Turn on your heating module,” Lighter said softly as the bed creaked under both their weights.

The room grew warmer as the sound of Billy’s engines grew ever so slightly louder. Billy was a lot like the desert, Lighter was realizing. Unchanging despite the shifting sands and moving people. Everything he did seemed to fit into some kind of pre-established trait. Even now, as his hands hovered inches away from Lighter’s skin, Lighter knew that all signs were pointing to this very moment.

And, honestly, Lighter enjoyed the constants that Billy brought to him.

“You can touch me,” Lighter nodded, already feeling the familiar sizzle and burn of heat in his groin.

“How?”

“Like this—”

Lighter guided Billy’s hand to his cock, already half-hard in Billy’s presence. The metal was warm against his skin—warmer than he anticipated. It felt almost human. Almost, but not quite. Something about that thought was comforting, too. Lighter was still re-learning how to be more human than a fighting zombie. Billy himself was teaching himself to be more human with every passing day.

In that sense, they were both meeting each other in the middle. In that sense, their differences weren’t so far apart.

“Fuck,” Lighter’s words came out as shaky groans, guttural sounds that scraped against the back of his throat as pleasure tremored its way across his nervous system.

“I’ve got you,” Billy murmured in response.

“You can move it—like this.”

With his hand still over Billy’s metal, Lighter guided the robot’s movements, teaching him where to apply pressure, where to touch, where to rub. He liked it like this—tight at the base, slow and playful at the tip. He liked it more when Billy’s thumb pressed against the head of his cock, teasing the globules of precum that had already begun to ooze its way out of Lighter’s desperate body.

“More?” Billy asked softly, his gaze fixated on Lighter. It shifted between looking at Lighter’s face to looking down at Lighter’s cock, as if he were committing the experience to memory. No, he probably was, in fact, committing it to memory.

“More. You’re doing great.”

“Am I squeezing too hard?”

“No. It’s just right,” he breathed. This time, Lighter’s hands began to roam. Beneath his fingertips, he trailed along the line of Billy’s leather jacket before they rested against the width of Billy’s shoulders. He, too, was committing this to memory. It would be the last. It would have to be enough to sate him forever. His hands inched their way to the back of the robot’s neck. Here, he could feel the thrum of Billy’s engine. The wires. The minute gears that clicked together to help Billy’s movements. Against his index and middle fingers, the wispy white hairs tickled the calluses of his fingers. They were softer than he would’ve ever imagined, really.

Lighter was already embarrassingly close to the end.

“Come here.”

Billy shifted even closer. He carved a space between Lighter’s legs as his hand continued its up and down motions, stroking Lighter to completion. Dragging Billy downwards, Lighter pressed their heads together, exhaling quietly as he closed his eyes. He was so warm. Every last crevice in Lighter’s consciousness filled with the thought of Billy. The whirr of his engines. The click of his gears. The friction of metal catching against his foreskin. The feeling of the smooth screen pressed to his head—something that was almost intimate. Something that made his heart flutter in all the same ways that a kiss would.

More weight was pressed into Lighter’s body. The pressure against his body was assuring. Grounding him to this moment. To this pocket of intimacy that they had carved for themselves. Billy knew what he wanted without Lighter even having to say a word. That, too, was sweet bliss to Lighter.

“Fuck,” the word came out harshed than he had intended as he pulled Billy even closer. His hips bucked upwards, fucking up into the cavity of Billy’s fingers as a single spark started a wildfire through his veins. Just like that, Lighter found himself reaching the end—quietly, with nothing more than the shape of Billy’s name forming in the pout of his lips and the curl of his tongue.

An orgasm was a strange thing.

It always made Lighter a little dazed, and yet, still sharp with newfound clarity. He kept Billy close to him, even if the other had stopped stroking him the moment Lighter’s cum spilled onto his belly. Billy didn’t try to move away either, as if soaking up the catharsis of pent-up tension in the very same ways that Lighter just did.

He inched closer.

Lighter could almost feel all of Billy now. Warm. Hard. A little creaky. A metal hand stroked along the line of his torso, soft and comforting. Between them, there were no words. Lighter had nothing to say in this regard either way. He wouldn’t dare utter a ‘thank you’. No, he had experienced enough shame tonight to last a lifetime.

In a way, accepting Billy’s offer was dooming. Everything that had happened here in the span of an hour were things that would haunt him for years to come. If only because Lighter had a terrible habit of yearning. Of wanting, but never taking. Of lingering. How was he supposed to move on when he lived in the shadow of a Champion?

Then, finally, Billy lifted his weight off of Lighter.

There’s silence for a long while between them. They’re both searching for answers in each other. Lighter found none that could answer the questions he had.

“You should come visit soon. Caesar’s gonna miss you,” Lighter said softly, first to break the silence as Billy began to detangle their limbs from each other. Hidden between the lines were the words, ‘I’ll miss you’, that Lighter hoped Billy would understand.

Billy let out a laugh, softer than Lighter’s hidden confession. Slowly, he clambered out of the mattress, the bed frame creaking as it was finally released from the weight of a grown man and a robot on top of it. Standing once more, their eyes met for the nth time that morning as sunrise began to creep in through the cracks between the door and curtains.

As he began to walk towards the door, Billy said, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep in touch.”

“I know you will.”

“And, Lighter?” He paused at the door, metal fingers resting against the doorknob. Lighter still had the memory of metal digits digging into his skin, leaving purple in its wake. He knew that the dreams would only get worse from here on out.

“Yeah?”

“When you’ve got a moment—and if you’re feeling it, you should come visit me, too. In New Eridu.”

“Oh. Of course. We’d probably have business in the city—”

“No. Visit me alone. I’ll turn on my heating module and we can watch another sunrise.”

Lighter blinked. Then, he blinked again. Before he could retort, Billy was already out of the room, letting the door click shut behind him. The irony of the situation began to sink in. A laugh bubbled his way out as Lighter fell backwards, bouncing ever so slightly on the creaky bed. It seemed Lighter had no need to worry about whether Billy understood the hidden meaning of his words—Billy was already one step ahead of him in this regard.

It seemed he would need to take a trip back into the city sooner than expected.