Written for humancircuitry for the Fallout Kink Meme. Hope this is what you asked for :D (x-posted on the fallout kink meme)

Update: Edited! Thanks to the awesome Xiggie.

My first attempt at PWP I guess. I'm trying something new. I started on this some weeks ago and have only JUST finished it soooo I don't know how this turns out. Any and every comment is appreciated. Also, hope you enjoy it.

Warning: Crude. Very crude.

Electric Stimulation

James Garret is bored.

Body-numbingly bored.

It's been five months of the same routine and he's already so fucking bored.

"PLEASE ASSUME THE POSITION."

The bot whirrs at him and clicks at him and takes two clunking steps towards his bed. Sure. Fisto is worth a little extra because he's going to keep on satisfying and he's programmable and re-programmable and he listens to commands… and shit. But Ralph says that he's no longer programmable now since the last time so James or the users just have to make do. And damn -

Even his sensitive bits are bored.

"Fisticakes," he calls from the bed. He takes another sip of wine straight from the bottle, managing to spill some on his neck and it dribbles down his jaw onto his sheets. "I'm not in the mood right now."

"PLEASE ASSUME THE POSITION."

"Um…I'm a…I… got a headache?" he says. And it's stupid because it's not like Fisto cares. He wonders how this must look like. It's like he's trying to let down a lover easy. Not that he knows how, cause he's never done that. And it's not like he's ever had a lover that's metallic. Or non-metallic. But whatever. It's like he's the fucktoy and the bot's his master. Fisto continues clunking at him and he cringes. He settles for "My ass is sore."

It's a lie. His ass quivers in the face of a lie.

"SORENESS WILL SUBSIDE IN SEVERAL MINUTES." Fisto doesn't realise that he hasn't activated sex protocol on James tonight. "AWAITING FURTHER ORDERS."

"I don't wanna look at you right now," James sighs. Covers his face. "Please leave."

"YES, SIR."

James lifts his face from his hands and watches Fisto clunk to his bedroom door. Fisto butts it open with its face- head- helmet thing, most likely heading to his post in the casino. Fisto doesn't even take another look back at James.

Maybe, all he needs is some space. He'll break it off with Fisto tomorrow. Tell the bot to stop coming up to his place. Yeah. Until he gets un-bored.

His ass quivers again. So does his groin. This time, it's because it's evident that he's not gonna get thoroughly fucked tonight. Or tomorrow by the looks of it. Or maybe for another month. Courier had better come back with the new bot he had promised to find. James has already paid him the deposit for it.

Thing is, James has always wanted a sexbot. He's wanted one since he was 15; since that particular moment of genius and curiosity when he fixed a toy for his then-crush, Alice. It's not much to look at, the toy; just a powerdrill and a long plastic phallic rod attached to it instead of a drill bit. He named it Decker. He had tried it on himself for a test run - And hot damn. He ended up never seeing Alice again (not a major loss) or turning to human companionship again (which is maybe a bit of a loss now that he's thinking about it) and instead spent many minutes, hours, days and nights in his room drilling himself to oblivion. The experience opened up a dam of possibilities, among other things. And ever since that first foray into the bot-world, he had upgraded Decker with many capabilities. Very innovative ones. Trial and error; it always works. One time, he replaced the plastic rod with an expandable rubber balloon that he could inflate to optimum size for optimum performance. He couldn't walk without limping for months until he got bored. Another time, he rewired Decker so that its vibrating pulses shot straight through his groin while being drilled. He came so hard he saw sparks – or that might be because he got electrocuted; because he woke up with the smell of burning flesh in his nose. He stripped that feature off afterwards. That and he got bored. Now, years later, he has exhausted every ounce of creativity he has on Decker until he can't milk himself anymore. So, he stops playing with Decker because he's bored. And because he has developed carpal tunnel syndrome from the awkward positions he has to hold Decker to fuck himself.

Damn. He's half-hard. He may actually have to use his hands, tonight. Or he could rut his pillow. He takes another sip from the bottle of wine. Then a mouthful. Because if he has to use his hands, he's gonna need more than just a sip or two.

The bottle suddenly slips from his fingers, bounces off the bed and crashes on the floor. Fuck. The sound echoes in his room. At least Francine won't wake; she sleeps like the dead.

"Boss. Is there a problem?" His guard enters the room uninvited and stares down at James. Then at the mess of broken glass on the floor. Then at James again. James feels very naked right now even though he's still wearing his shirt and tie. Because Harkness has piercing eyes. Very piercing eyes. If the man was a bot, those eyes would probably be lasers.

"What does it look like?" he asks.

"It looks like there's a problem." James snorts. Understatement. "Fisto left you almost an hour ago and you still haven't closed your door." James smiles, silently congratulating Francine and himself for making the excellent decision of hiring Harkness. Because a lesser guard would be asleep by now. A lesser guard wouldn't have noticed Fisto walking past. And a lesser guard would have had a problem with James Garret fucking sexbots. "Is he malfunctioning?"

'He'. Harkness calls Fisto a 'he'. If anyone else, Fisto will be nothing more than an 'it'.

If he hasn't had any suspicion about Harkness before, he would have them right about now. James smiles inwardly. He's pretty sure that Harkness has fucked a machine too. Or has a thing for bots too. Or something.

Because when Harkness first met Fisto, he guided the bot to James and told him that Fisto needed oiling so that he could perform at optimum level. (He was right.) Harkness explained that he'd had the 'opportunity to know a couple of sexbots' so he's used to taking care of them. And when Fisto shut down once, Harkness managed to switch him back on with magic fingers. That about sums it up. Harkness has first-hand knowledge. Harkness is a fellow bot fucker. This makes Harkness very valuable. So, after years of Francine nagging at him to get a bodyguard, James finally agrees.

And he's such a great investment, Harkness is.

Not only does he do his job properly, he's also extremely tolerant of Fisto. Doesn't poke Fisto. Or hit him. Or abuse him in any way. Instead, Harkness looks at Fisto nonchalantly. Not grimly or wryly or disgusted-ly or funnily or strangely. Nope. Harkness looks at Fisto like he sees nothing out of ordinary about him. He looks at Fisto like the way he looks at James. Like Fisto's just another person. (James likes to think that he looks at Fisto as a person too and not like a fucktoy. Like one of those lewd pervs with weird kinks that come in the Atomic Wrangler once in a while.) On top of that, Harkness tries to stop the rumours about James' supposed machine fucking ways. Well, somewhat. One time, some NCR grunts were discussing the possibility of James bending over for a rotating minigun when Harkness threatened to 'throw them off the ship'. He did throw one of them out with surprising strength while the rest shut their mouths. Wherever that ship was, it must've been in very good hands while Harkness was there. He wonders what had made Harkness leave it.

The sound of glass being pushed around pulls James from his thoughts and he watches Harkness sweep the fragments away with the toes of his boots. Considerate. He appreciates it. James falls back on his bed, listening to the glass shuffling. He answers Harkness' question.

"Fisto's not malfunctioning." Then he thinks for a moment before adding "I'm malfunctioning."

"Right, Boss," Harkness states.

"Fisto is...boring." He clears his throat. "His problem is that he's repetitive. It's the same motion over and over with him. Yeah it feels good but… Can't he give a guy the reach around? Or switch positions? It's boring." Great. He's just complained to one of his guards about his sex life. Sure, it's Harkness. But, really? Ranting to a guard? He must be more frustrated than he realises. "I mean, don't you have this problem when you fuck your sexbots?"

"I don't –" Harkness breaks off mid-sentence. He frowns. "I don't fuck other machines."

"Hey, come on, it's just the two of us here. You don't need to hide." Harkness narrows his eyes at that. James smiles. "You said you know a couple of sexbots."

"Yes. But I don't fuck them."

"What? So, you're just friends with them?"

"Yeah. Something like that." Oh. Harkness is one of those guys. The ones who befriend bots instead of fuck them. Damn. So, he got it wrong then. Harkness isn't like him. He's just someone who's tolerant of James' habits. James feels kinda embarrassed now that he's blatantly open about his preferences in front of his guard. He sits up from the bed. He stares up at Harkness who stares down at him. Harkness eyes James strangely now, looking at him like he's peeling his skin or something. Harkness parts his lips to speak.

"Do you want me to service you?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to service you?" Harkness repeats the question with that blank face like he hasn't just offered to activate sex protocol with James. He steps closer to the bed and to James, towering over him.

James stares at Harkness who stares at him in the same piercing gaze only … creepier. It causes an involuntary shiver to crawl up his spine being looked at like that. Because it's a look that his more pervy customers give the Atomic Wrangler's escorts. And fuck, it's not just anyone who's looking at him like that. It's Harkness. James doesn't let his mind ponder the idea of his guard doing anything like that with him. Not that it's unappealing because he does appreciate human beauty and Harkness is… very proportionate and symmetrical. And if James wants to think about it, he knows that it's not gonna be difficult at all to imagine Harkness as a machine. Cause, come on, the man doesn't blink, doesn't really eat and doesn't really sleep. He doesn't even react when Francine or any customers grab his ass. (James has never grabbed his ass.) But really…

"I don't fuck humans," James replies evenly. He doesn't want to know if he's actually feeling a little disappointed. And he's not thinking about it. At all.

"I'm," Harkness starts and stops. He glances at the open door behind him then looks back at James before he speaks again. "I'm not human," he says like he's making a huge confession. James smiles at him indulgently. He likes Harkness. He really does. A lot even.

"That's sweet, Harkness, really," James says. "But I don't think so." Harkness straightens his back, his eyes still on James. Then he closes his hand around the thick black band on his left arm and tugs it off.

"Holy fucking hell." James' so shocked he's choking on his spit. "Holy shit." He can't believe what he's seeing.

It's metal. Not skin. Well, there's skin around the metal, as though skin has covered the metal once. But - Metal. Goddamnfucking METAL. And wires. Hidden under that band. And under his skin. The metal moves when Harkness moves. Glints where the light touches it. Reflects some of that light on his face and across James' tie.

He follows the line of the arm up to the shoulders to Harkness' face. Harkness looks too serious for it to be a joke. James reaches for the arm. He presses his finger on the wrist and traces the edges of the skin where it meets metal. (Is this why Harkness left the ship? It's no wonder why he never takes the band off.) When James crosses the edge, his thumb slides over the metal and his stomach flips at the change in texture. Smooth. Slick. Firm. Metal. And so alive.

"What the hell are you?" he asks and his voice sounds strained.

"Android."

Damn if that didn't just cause shivers up his spine and his eyes flick over to Harkness'.

Sure, he's heard about androids. The mythical synths from the Commonwealth. The shining, metallic men who speak and walk and talk like humans but are programmed to obey. He's even had wet dreams once or twice or fifty times when he's younger. But he thought it's all just a beautiful dream because no one seems to have ever met one of those androids. And nobody comes back from a trip to the Commonwealth too. Mr House has probably never met an android either. Obviously. That's why House's robots are those clunky rectangular blocks with wheels. And that's why Fisto is an awkward lightbulb with legs. But Harkness – Harkness is an android?

"Do you need a demo or can I close the door?" Demo?

"…Um…what?"

Harkness continues staring down at James for some time. And James continues staring up at Harkness for some time, while his fingers rub circles in the glorious metal. He can't help touching it. When Harkness pulls back his hand, James gets hit by the pang of loss in contact. Harkness turns and heads for the door.

"Harkness, wait, I mean, come on –"

Harkness shuts the door. Then locks it.

James feels his heart stop.

"Ok. Look…" he starts. Harkness pulls off his armour as he turns around. "…I don't know if, I mean…" Harkness throws the armour onto the floor. "You look too…" Harkness reaches for his undershirt and pulls that off too revealing a well-defined torso.

Hot damn. Proportionate and symmetrical in every way.

Shining.

"You're more human than I'm used to," James gushes. Harkness prowls – fucking prowls to him. "I don't think I can even get it up. I mean – "

The rest of his words come out as a loud gasp when Harkness grabs him. He stiffens against the warm hand cupping him through his pants. And holy shit, he's hard. He's fucking hard. Must be the groping he did on Harkness' exposed shiny insides. He lets loose a bit off curse when the hand curls around him and his hips buck as reflex. He feels hot, dry kisses trailing his jaw. Feels it give way to generous swipes from a tongue, swirling at some erogenous zone he doesn't even know he has. It shoots straight through his groin. He realises that he's grinding on that hand now. And he can feel it. The metal digits. Because he knows how metal fingers feel like and they feel like Harkness' hand rubbing him down.

Suddenly the contact's gone and before his throat can even whimper like it wants to, Harkness shoves him onto his back, stealing the breath out of him. Harkness crawls – fucking crawls – on him, straddles his waist, pins him down. He feels the weight anchoring him down. He knows he cannot push Harkness off if he tries. And he does try, bucking against his captor wildly but Harkness doesn't even budge a millimetre – such a turn on. Harkness tugs his tie off, rips his shirt off, the buttons plinking as it hits the ceiling or the floor; he does it so quickly that the motion's a blur, and he does it so effortlessly. The exposed metal of his arm scrapes across his chest, catching onto his sensitive nipples and he thrashes at the contact. He moans.

"You want to be tied up?" Harkness growls into his ear and James whimpers properly now. He knows he sounds pathetic but he can do nothing else. The metal is now slick with his sweat as it glides over his skin sensuously. James realises that Harkness genuinely wants an answer because he's now rolling the discarded tie around his hand.

"You want to be tied up? Or do you want me tied up? Do you want to be blindfolded? Or do you want this around your cock? Or do you want to be suffocated? Or –" The many possible scenarios play in his mind and he groans.

"Just fuck me," he blurts. "Fuck me like an android."

Harkness stares down at him. His guard doesn't have many expressions on his face. It's usually either pissed off or un-pissed off. But, this here's a new expression. His lips quirk up in a smirk which is honestly, creepy. And positively dirty.

In a split second, James gets spun over and he lands face down on the mattress. He feels the weight above him shift and his belt gets pulled off; he doesn't even realise that it's been unbuckled. His pants come off together with his briefs with efficiency he's never experienced before. His legs part and before he can even take a deep breath, he chokes on it. There's something hot and wet sliding down the fold of his butt cheeks. When he cranes his neck to look down his body he chokes on another breath and bites down on his tongue. Harkness is staring straight back at him. The gaze creepy and hungry and it slams into him the same moment he feels the tongue shoving up his ass. The sharp spike of pleasure ripples through his crotch and he thrusts the air uncontrollably.

It's uncomfortable but so hot and wet and so fucking good. He rolls his hips haphazardly, feeling his cock slap his navel in time with the movements. Harkness winds his fingers around it to give a luxurious stroke. James almost comes, right there. He doesn't. But he's aching and he growls something in warning (probably 'Harkness, you fucking android, stop trying to kill me'). Harkness strokes him again. And again. The sensations leave his legs shaking.

"You like it," Harkness tells his ass like he doesn't feel James writhing in pleasure. Yes, he likes it. He fucking loves it. He just can't speak right now. He's trying to smother his groans into the pillow underneath. He feels fingers loosen him now, rubbing on his insides as the tongue trails down his perineum. It doesn't even take a second for Harkness to find his prostate and he jams into it with purpose. The pressure burns and blinds him. (It's like he has a homing device fixed on that spot.) James cries out, body stiff with pleasure and his cock dripping precum onto the sheets. James feels his knees buckle but Harkness forces him in place. He's biting on his lips again but Harkness doesn't slow down. He digs his fingers into James' hip to hold him down while he fucks James with his fingers, assaulting the knot of nerves like it's his latest mission. It is.

James is aware of how loud he's actually being when Harkness suddenly jerks his head back and he lets out a long, loud, tortured sounding moan. He lets out a louder yell, holy fucking hell, when an appendage thicker and longer than a finger pushes past the ring of his hole. Harkness relentlessly nudges his way in till he's fully sheathed and James shudders at how on-fire he feels, how full he feels right now. He has never felt that full before (well, there was that one time with Decker but it's nothing compared to this).

Thing is, he can feel Harkness pulsing in him. Like he's thrumming with electricity. Like he's pushing currents through James' walls and setting every nerve haywire. It makes his ass contract at intervals, the motion driving him slowly insane. James pushes back and is awarded with teeth at the back of his neck (which is apparently another erogenous zone. How many zones can one person have?) He whimpers. He feels overloaded with sensations. He begs to be fucked. And before he knows it, he is being fucked. Thoroughly and utterly and cyclically. Harkness pulls out completely before thrusting back in, somehow hitting his prostate dead on every time. Over and over and he does it at the same, exact, constant, regular, cruel pace until James curses in frustration.

Fingers curl around his cock and start pumping him in long, fast stokes. His knees and ass are lifted off the bed and he's holding on to the sheets so hard that his knuckles are numb. James starts seeing sparks before he begs for more still, for Harkness to go faster, Android-speed, and harder, full-strength capacity. And then he's coming so hard he sees fucking binary codes before he blacks out.

When he awakes, Harkness is gone. Sunlight streams into his window. He sees that he's tucked into the sheets carefully. The clothes that were on the floor have been folded and placed on top of his desk. The pile of glass on the floor is gone. There's a bottle of water on his bedside. He reaches for the bottle. As soon as he does, every nerve in his body reacts and he gasps as his body wakes. He twitches all over and he pants at the pleasure rolling lazily under his skin. It takes some time before his body adjusts and he sits up slowly. Still twitching. Must be some electrical discharge or something.

After getting dressed, he goes in search of his guard. He finds Harkness at his usual spot beside the slot machines by the bar. He appears to be reading a book. The thick black band is back in place across his arm, hiding that beautiful metal. Harkness looks up when he approaches and James pauses in his steps, his throat dry.

"Um," he begins. Harkness patiently waits for him to speak. "Was it good? For you, I mean. Did you… finish?" James feels his cheeks heat up. Judging from the sheets, it looks like James had come his guts out. But he doesn't know if Harkness did. Harkness nods. "Ah. Good." Harkness continues looking at him. James clears his throat. Trying to lose the awkwardness, James tries to find something to say that isn't 'You're the best. Marry me. Never leave my room again. Never leave my ass again. You're better than Decker and Fisto put together. I want to try fucking you. Have you ever kissed anyone? I've never been with a man like you before, and you're not even a man, but a hybrid, so you're the closest thing to human I've ever slept with and hot damn it's incredible, amazing, I want to do it again. And you can tie me up. And blindfold me. And suffocate me. That is - if we can we do it again? Can we? Can we do it tonight? Can we do it now?' He settles for "Um. Thanks. For. Yeah." He's an idiot. He knows.

"Sure, Boss," is the reply. Harkness returns to reading. James clears his throat again.

"What are you reading?" he asks, trying to make small talk. He stills when he realises Harkness is holding one of the books which he hides under his bed. It's a comprehensive sex manual. With diagrams.

"I'm not reading," Harkness clarifies. There's a glint in his eyes. "I'm programming myself so you won't get bored." Harkness smiles, the creepy, dirty smile that makes his blood boil and his ass shiver in anticipation. Harkness is an android. A full-fledged shining chunk of metallic perfection. With skin.

He decides that the next time he sees Courier; he's going to give him double the amount he owes and he's going to give him Fisto. And what the hell, Decker too.

end