Robots
Title Robots [3/?]
Pairing Frank/Gerard
Rating R
Summary In the not so distant future, robots created to look and operate as humans have replaced human labor. Some people like it, others hate it. Frank, a musician adamantly against the advancement of "Human Helpers" discovers they're not so bad when he ends up owning one.
Warnings Sex, swearing, probably drugs and drinking
A/N I'm getting back on the wagon and writing again. This will remain in my personal journal until complete, then will be transfered to MSC, hope you enjoy. I intend for this to be rather short, less than 10 chapers.
When Frank had gotten off work, he’d driven straight home and called Bob. Even though Bob was in no way trained to understand how Human Helpers worked, he owned two and was perhaps the smartest person that Frank knew. He figured Bob could help figure out what programs his new robot had then he could sell it and make enough money to pay a few months rent.
Before his friend met up with him, Frank went ahead and dressed the robot, it may not bother him anymore to see them nude, but he was sure that other people wouldn’t take too kindly to it.
Once he had it wearing a ratty t-shirt and some sweat pants, Frank just stared at it. Most ‘male’ Human Helpers didn’t look like this one did. They were designed to be big and somewhat muscular. This one had narrow hips and shoulders that reminded Frank of bird skulls. Even stranger, was that this one had a bit of a pot belly. Not enough to really be considered fat, but he’d never seen a Human Helper designed to look anything less than perfect. It had pretty thick thighs too. It was unnerving how human it felt when Frank had dressed it. The robot had felt like all the other robots, maybe it was just stranger because it was wearing Frank’s clothes and not the store issued ones.
Bob arrived and behind him came a Human Helper wearing a black wool cap and matching black pea coat.
“Why does he have on glasses?” Frank asked when the Human Helper took a seat on the couch. His face was blank, strange because they were typically designed to show more emotions than most people do.
“Oh,” Bob said dismissively, “I made that one myself. I couldn’t find any working eyes so I programmed sensors into the glasses. Much easier.” Rather than wait for Frank to make some sort of astonished reply, Bob saw the Human Helper and his eyes lit up. “Oh, is this him?”
“Yeah,” Frank said as Bob walked over to it, “that’s it.”
“We really like being referred to by our gender,” Bob’s robot said.
“You don’t really have a gender though,” replied Frank.
“Well I’ve got a name and a dick that’s probably bigger than yours.”
Before the argument could escalate, Bob cleared his throat. “Mikey, could you come here, I’m going to need your assistance.”
The robot looked like he was positively glowing as he hopped up and walked to Bob’s side. “Yes?”
“I’m going to go ahead and turn him on, can you assess the damage, please?”
The robot, Mikey, nodded happily.
“Damn his stitching is tight,” Bob muttered as he slowly opened the space across the robot’s neck. Under the skin was cold metal and a switch. Bob flipped it and backed up for Mikey to lean in.
“Hello, brother,” Mikey said quietly to the robot, then started to remove the skin from his hand, like it was a glove, and placed his wire fingers into the opening.
The dead robot’s eyes lit up and were the most amazing shade of green. His mouth fell open and he breathed in a huge gulp of air as if he were a human who’d just resurfaced from underwater.
Mikey’s fingers stayed put inside the robot’s neck while the robot just continued to breathe deeply.
“Somethings not right,” Bob said quietly as he observed the two.
There was a spark that erupted from Mikey’s metal fingers and the other Robot gave out a strangled cry. Two seconds later, Frank was on top of Mikey, pulling him back while Bob was giving out a choke of surprise. Another two seconds later and Bob had Mikey cuddled in his lap while Frank just stood back and stared. The robot was still breathing deeply and now blinking but other than that, did not move.
“Are you okay, Mikey?” Bob was asking softly.
“For fuck’s sake, Bob, he’s a robot!” Frank snapped then ran a hand through his hair.
Bob shot him a glare and pet Mikey’s hair until the robot seemed to have recovered. “There’s,” Mikey started, “there’s nothing. He’s empty.”
“He shouldn’t have turned on, then,” Bob said.
They looked at the breathing robot blankly, his eyes had stopped blinking but other than that there was no change.
**
Frank couldn’t sleep that night. Bob had suggested he leave the robot on and see if there are any changes and he’d bring a more powerful Human Helper to check things out after work the next day. So the broken robot was still sitting on Frank’s couch, hyperventalating while Frank tossed and turned in his room.
He thought he heard a creak. Then a door opening. “Fuck, he’s a robot, not a robber,” he whispered to himself. But no matter how logically he thought, though, Frank still felt unsettled. Around three, he gave up and got up... just for water... As he ventured into the living room, he saw that the robot was no longer sitting on the couch.
“Hey!” Frank called out, but there was no response.
Quickly, he darted back into his room, where he retrieved a baseball bat from his closet. It would probably be useless against a robot, but it was still comforting.
Slowly, he made his way into the small kitchen. A light was on. He hadn’t left a light on. There was a grinding sound, one which he could not place but it sounded familiar.
With his baseball bat raised, he jumped into the kitchen and there was his robot. Sitting at the breakfast table with a tray of ice cubes. He’d put one in his mouth and start munching on it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Frank asked as he darted over to the Human Helpers side. Quickly, he pulled the ice trays away from the robot and put them back in the freezer.
“Ice,” the robot said.
Frank sighed, “you can’t eat ice,” he said.
“Ice.”
He gave another sigh, this time more exasperated, and took the robot’s hand.
It still felt light, too light to even be a person, it allowed Frank to lead it back to the couch. “You stay here,” Frank said.
The robot shook it’s head furiously, it’s black hair flew across his cheeks and it’s eyes squinted shut. “No,” it said.
“Yes,” Frank replied firmly, “you sleep here.”
The robot pointed to the narrow hall that led to Frank’s room and didn’t say anything.
“No,” Frank said slowly, as if he were talking to a dog, “I sleep there, you sleep here.” He pointed to the couch.
Again, the robot shook it’s head and started to walk into Frank’s bedroom without further arguement. When Frank got there, it was already curled into a little ball on Frank’s side of the bed, breathing deeply, with it’s face buried in Frank’s pillows.
“Come on,” Frank said and nudged him, “you can’t sleep here.”
But the robot didn’t respond, it just continued to lay in Frank’s spot, it’s breathes far too rapid.
Finally, Frank gave up and laid on the other side of the bed. It felt alien, it was the side his girlfriend slept on when she stayed over. He couldn’t sleep at all, every time he finally felt settled, he could hear the Human Helper breathing and would get too distracted, then he’d realize that he was quite literally on the wrong side of the bed and the process would start all over again.
Frank was up and going before the sun had risen. He didn’t work that day so he gave Bob a call. Naturally, like any sane person, Bob was asleep and said he’d come by around noon. To pass the time, Frank cleaned up around his apartment. He couldn’t help but think it was kind of ironic that his Human Helper was sleeping in his bed while he was up, dusting that impossible to reach spot behind the TV.
**
Bob did eventually show up, though it was well past noon when he knocked. When Frank let him in, a Human Helper with long sandy hair and killer legs walked in after him. The scar on her neck was nearly invisible and for a moment, Frank had to do a double take. Of course, he should’ve instantly known it was a human helper because really, since when did Bob hang out with super models?
“What’s that here for?” Frank asked.
Bob shrugged. “I love mikey, but he’s not as powerful as the Human Helpers I can buy at the store. This is Lizzy, she’s brand new so she should be able to see what’s wrong with your guy.” He paused to look around. “Where is he, anyways?”
Frank shrugged. “It got up last night and started eating ice cubes then fell asleep on my bed. It was still sleeping last time I saw it.”
“No, really, where is he?” Bob asked. Frank stared at him blankly. “Mikey couldn’t find any programs, that means he shouldn’t be able to do anything. And besides,” Bob added, “Human Helpers don’t eat and they don’t sleep.”
“Well, that’s what it was doing, maybe Mikey was wrong. You said that it wasn’t a very powerful Human Helper, maybe it just couldn’t read the programs or something.”
“...He may just be damaged or something,” Bob mused to himself then started to walk back towards Frank’s room, Lizzy following obidiantly behind.
Just like Frank had said, the Human Helper was curled up in a little ball on Frank’s side of the bed, still breathing irregularly. Bob sat down next to it and ran a hand through it’s black hair.
“I told you, it got up and moved,” Frank said.
“Lizzy, access the damage,” Bob instructed, brushing off Frank’s comment as if he’d never spoken.
The blonde Human Helper nodded and walked towards the sleeping robot. Like Mikey had, she pulled the skin off her hand as if it were a glove and started to unwind the seam in his neck. By now, it’d been opened and closed so much that the scar was much more noticeable. Frank winced a bit and wondered if it would diminish the robot’s value. Then again, if Mikey couldn’t find any programs or if Lizzy reported that it was damaged, then Frank didn’t think he’d be able to sell it anyways.
Lizzy’s fingers slipped through the seam and her eyes went blank. Bob and Frank waited for her to pull away and give a report. Eventually, she started to move, then pushed her hand back inside, then repeated the gesture. After the fifth time Bob sighed. “She’s stuck in an infinitive loop,” he explained to Frank, who was looking quite baffled.
After leaving her alone for a few more tries, Bob placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back. Lizzy blinked a few times as her eyes cleared and turned to look at bob. “Thank you,” she said brightly, “you saved me!”
Much like he had with Frank, Bob waved off the comment. “Did you find anything?”
“No damages,” Lizzy reported, still sporting her bright smile, “there were no programs found either.”
The sleeping Human Helper sat up and blinked. “Frank?” It asked.
“What the fuck?” Bob murmered. Lizzy looked equally as baffled.
“Hey,” Frank replied weakly.
“Frank,” the robot repeated slowly. “Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank!”
“Lizzy,” Bob said quietly, while the Human Helper continued to gleefully repeat Frank’s name, “take a picture of him and search for matching models online.”
The blonde nodded and blinked very deliberatly, then her face went blank. Once she regained her character, she shook her head. “No matching results,” she told Bob sadly.
“Frank!”
“What!?” Frank finally yelled back.
The robot stared at him, it’s eyes looking sad, then it turned and flopped it’s face into the pillow.
“What does it want?” Frank asked Bob, who could only shrug in response.
The robot whipped it’s head up and looked back at Frank. “Gerard!” It said defensively.
“Who’s Gerard?” Now it was Lizzy asking.
“Gerard!” The robot pointed at itself. “Gerard, Gerard, Gerard, Gerard!”
Bob patted Frank’s shoulder sympathetically. “You’ve got a fucked up Human Helper,” he informed his friend.
Pairing Frank/Gerard
Rating R
Summary In the not so distant future, robots created to look and operate as humans have replaced human labor. Some people like it, others hate it. Frank, a musician adamantly against the advancement of "Human Helpers" discovers they're not so bad when he ends up owning one.
Warnings Sex, swearing, probably drugs and drinking
A/N I'm getting back on the wagon and writing again. This will remain in my personal journal until complete, then will be transfered to MSC, hope you enjoy. I intend for this to be rather short, less than 10 chapers.
When Frank had gotten off work, he’d driven straight home and called Bob. Even though Bob was in no way trained to understand how Human Helpers worked, he owned two and was perhaps the smartest person that Frank knew. He figured Bob could help figure out what programs his new robot had then he could sell it and make enough money to pay a few months rent.
Before his friend met up with him, Frank went ahead and dressed the robot, it may not bother him anymore to see them nude, but he was sure that other people wouldn’t take too kindly to it.
Once he had it wearing a ratty t-shirt and some sweat pants, Frank just stared at it. Most ‘male’ Human Helpers didn’t look like this one did. They were designed to be big and somewhat muscular. This one had narrow hips and shoulders that reminded Frank of bird skulls. Even stranger, was that this one had a bit of a pot belly. Not enough to really be considered fat, but he’d never seen a Human Helper designed to look anything less than perfect. It had pretty thick thighs too. It was unnerving how human it felt when Frank had dressed it. The robot had felt like all the other robots, maybe it was just stranger because it was wearing Frank’s clothes and not the store issued ones.
Bob arrived and behind him came a Human Helper wearing a black wool cap and matching black pea coat.
“Why does he have on glasses?” Frank asked when the Human Helper took a seat on the couch. His face was blank, strange because they were typically designed to show more emotions than most people do.
“Oh,” Bob said dismissively, “I made that one myself. I couldn’t find any working eyes so I programmed sensors into the glasses. Much easier.” Rather than wait for Frank to make some sort of astonished reply, Bob saw the Human Helper and his eyes lit up. “Oh, is this him?”
“Yeah,” Frank said as Bob walked over to it, “that’s it.”
“We really like being referred to by our gender,” Bob’s robot said.
“You don’t really have a gender though,” replied Frank.
“Well I’ve got a name and a dick that’s probably bigger than yours.”
Before the argument could escalate, Bob cleared his throat. “Mikey, could you come here, I’m going to need your assistance.”
The robot looked like he was positively glowing as he hopped up and walked to Bob’s side. “Yes?”
“I’m going to go ahead and turn him on, can you assess the damage, please?”
The robot, Mikey, nodded happily.
“Damn his stitching is tight,” Bob muttered as he slowly opened the space across the robot’s neck. Under the skin was cold metal and a switch. Bob flipped it and backed up for Mikey to lean in.
“Hello, brother,” Mikey said quietly to the robot, then started to remove the skin from his hand, like it was a glove, and placed his wire fingers into the opening.
The dead robot’s eyes lit up and were the most amazing shade of green. His mouth fell open and he breathed in a huge gulp of air as if he were a human who’d just resurfaced from underwater.
Mikey’s fingers stayed put inside the robot’s neck while the robot just continued to breathe deeply.
“Somethings not right,” Bob said quietly as he observed the two.
There was a spark that erupted from Mikey’s metal fingers and the other Robot gave out a strangled cry. Two seconds later, Frank was on top of Mikey, pulling him back while Bob was giving out a choke of surprise. Another two seconds later and Bob had Mikey cuddled in his lap while Frank just stood back and stared. The robot was still breathing deeply and now blinking but other than that, did not move.
“Are you okay, Mikey?” Bob was asking softly.
“For fuck’s sake, Bob, he’s a robot!” Frank snapped then ran a hand through his hair.
Bob shot him a glare and pet Mikey’s hair until the robot seemed to have recovered. “There’s,” Mikey started, “there’s nothing. He’s empty.”
“He shouldn’t have turned on, then,” Bob said.
They looked at the breathing robot blankly, his eyes had stopped blinking but other than that there was no change.
**
Frank couldn’t sleep that night. Bob had suggested he leave the robot on and see if there are any changes and he’d bring a more powerful Human Helper to check things out after work the next day. So the broken robot was still sitting on Frank’s couch, hyperventalating while Frank tossed and turned in his room.
He thought he heard a creak. Then a door opening. “Fuck, he’s a robot, not a robber,” he whispered to himself. But no matter how logically he thought, though, Frank still felt unsettled. Around three, he gave up and got up... just for water... As he ventured into the living room, he saw that the robot was no longer sitting on the couch.
“Hey!” Frank called out, but there was no response.
Quickly, he darted back into his room, where he retrieved a baseball bat from his closet. It would probably be useless against a robot, but it was still comforting.
Slowly, he made his way into the small kitchen. A light was on. He hadn’t left a light on. There was a grinding sound, one which he could not place but it sounded familiar.
With his baseball bat raised, he jumped into the kitchen and there was his robot. Sitting at the breakfast table with a tray of ice cubes. He’d put one in his mouth and start munching on it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Frank asked as he darted over to the Human Helpers side. Quickly, he pulled the ice trays away from the robot and put them back in the freezer.
“Ice,” the robot said.
Frank sighed, “you can’t eat ice,” he said.
“Ice.”
He gave another sigh, this time more exasperated, and took the robot’s hand.
It still felt light, too light to even be a person, it allowed Frank to lead it back to the couch. “You stay here,” Frank said.
The robot shook it’s head furiously, it’s black hair flew across his cheeks and it’s eyes squinted shut. “No,” it said.
“Yes,” Frank replied firmly, “you sleep here.”
The robot pointed to the narrow hall that led to Frank’s room and didn’t say anything.
“No,” Frank said slowly, as if he were talking to a dog, “I sleep there, you sleep here.” He pointed to the couch.
Again, the robot shook it’s head and started to walk into Frank’s bedroom without further arguement. When Frank got there, it was already curled into a little ball on Frank’s side of the bed, breathing deeply, with it’s face buried in Frank’s pillows.
“Come on,” Frank said and nudged him, “you can’t sleep here.”
But the robot didn’t respond, it just continued to lay in Frank’s spot, it’s breathes far too rapid.
Finally, Frank gave up and laid on the other side of the bed. It felt alien, it was the side his girlfriend slept on when she stayed over. He couldn’t sleep at all, every time he finally felt settled, he could hear the Human Helper breathing and would get too distracted, then he’d realize that he was quite literally on the wrong side of the bed and the process would start all over again.
Frank was up and going before the sun had risen. He didn’t work that day so he gave Bob a call. Naturally, like any sane person, Bob was asleep and said he’d come by around noon. To pass the time, Frank cleaned up around his apartment. He couldn’t help but think it was kind of ironic that his Human Helper was sleeping in his bed while he was up, dusting that impossible to reach spot behind the TV.
**
Bob did eventually show up, though it was well past noon when he knocked. When Frank let him in, a Human Helper with long sandy hair and killer legs walked in after him. The scar on her neck was nearly invisible and for a moment, Frank had to do a double take. Of course, he should’ve instantly known it was a human helper because really, since when did Bob hang out with super models?
“What’s that here for?” Frank asked.
Bob shrugged. “I love mikey, but he’s not as powerful as the Human Helpers I can buy at the store. This is Lizzy, she’s brand new so she should be able to see what’s wrong with your guy.” He paused to look around. “Where is he, anyways?”
Frank shrugged. “It got up last night and started eating ice cubes then fell asleep on my bed. It was still sleeping last time I saw it.”
“No, really, where is he?” Bob asked. Frank stared at him blankly. “Mikey couldn’t find any programs, that means he shouldn’t be able to do anything. And besides,” Bob added, “Human Helpers don’t eat and they don’t sleep.”
“Well, that’s what it was doing, maybe Mikey was wrong. You said that it wasn’t a very powerful Human Helper, maybe it just couldn’t read the programs or something.”
“...He may just be damaged or something,” Bob mused to himself then started to walk back towards Frank’s room, Lizzy following obidiantly behind.
Just like Frank had said, the Human Helper was curled up in a little ball on Frank’s side of the bed, still breathing irregularly. Bob sat down next to it and ran a hand through it’s black hair.
“I told you, it got up and moved,” Frank said.
“Lizzy, access the damage,” Bob instructed, brushing off Frank’s comment as if he’d never spoken.
The blonde Human Helper nodded and walked towards the sleeping robot. Like Mikey had, she pulled the skin off her hand as if it were a glove and started to unwind the seam in his neck. By now, it’d been opened and closed so much that the scar was much more noticeable. Frank winced a bit and wondered if it would diminish the robot’s value. Then again, if Mikey couldn’t find any programs or if Lizzy reported that it was damaged, then Frank didn’t think he’d be able to sell it anyways.
Lizzy’s fingers slipped through the seam and her eyes went blank. Bob and Frank waited for her to pull away and give a report. Eventually, she started to move, then pushed her hand back inside, then repeated the gesture. After the fifth time Bob sighed. “She’s stuck in an infinitive loop,” he explained to Frank, who was looking quite baffled.
After leaving her alone for a few more tries, Bob placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back. Lizzy blinked a few times as her eyes cleared and turned to look at bob. “Thank you,” she said brightly, “you saved me!”
Much like he had with Frank, Bob waved off the comment. “Did you find anything?”
“No damages,” Lizzy reported, still sporting her bright smile, “there were no programs found either.”
The sleeping Human Helper sat up and blinked. “Frank?” It asked.
“What the fuck?” Bob murmered. Lizzy looked equally as baffled.
“Hey,” Frank replied weakly.
“Frank,” the robot repeated slowly. “Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank!”
“Lizzy,” Bob said quietly, while the Human Helper continued to gleefully repeat Frank’s name, “take a picture of him and search for matching models online.”
The blonde nodded and blinked very deliberatly, then her face went blank. Once she regained her character, she shook her head. “No matching results,” she told Bob sadly.
“Frank!”
“What!?” Frank finally yelled back.
The robot stared at him, it’s eyes looking sad, then it turned and flopped it’s face into the pillow.
“What does it want?” Frank asked Bob, who could only shrug in response.
The robot whipped it’s head up and looked back at Frank. “Gerard!” It said defensively.
“Who’s Gerard?” Now it was Lizzy asking.
“Gerard!” The robot pointed at itself. “Gerard, Gerard, Gerard, Gerard!”
Bob patted Frank’s shoulder sympathetically. “You’ve got a fucked up Human Helper,” he informed his friend.