Rock Light was a model student; he got good grades, was the star of the school soccer team, and never got into trouble. He never seemed to run out of energy, always bright-eyed and smiling. The teachers all loved him, and he was popular with the other students.
Forte hated his guts.
Forte wouldn't even be here today except his dumb brother forgot his kendo gear and the old man made him bring it like a fucking delivery boy, and he would have turned right back around and left if Light hadn't spotted him. He might've skipped anyway, but the boy scout was sure to call him out, and the last thing Forte needed was another lecture.
Forte popped his gum as aggressively as he could, glaring at the back of Light's head. He had fluffy, neatly trimmed brown hair, nothing like Forte's wild blonde mane. His uniform collar was crisp and wrinkle-free, the seams of his blazer placed on his shoulders with laser precision. Forte wouldn't be surprised if it was tailored; that seemed like a Light thing to do, getting a fucking school uniform professionally tailored even though he was sure to outgrow it before the year was up. Kids their age grew like weeds; the old man complained about it endlessly. Zero was already taller than Forte, gangly and tripping over his own feet all the time like a puppy. Forte himself had grown a bit since he'd gotten his uniform, so his ankles stuck out of the pants and the blazer was too tight on his shoulders when he bothered to wear it.
Light moved suddenly, startling Forte into popping his gum again, but he was just raising his hand. Forte could just picture the look on his face; a polite smile and sparkling blue eyes eager to please, earnest and bright like they always were. A textbook example of a diligent student. He grit his teeth and turned to stare out the window, stubbornly not listening to the perfect student's perfect answer.
.
When he finally got back to the garage, it was like a breath of fresh air. It was an old building, just cinder block walls on a concrete foundation, with a broken neon sign that said "Wily's Garage" in the daylight and "Wil Gar" at night. The floor was a patchwork of oil stains and it always smelled like gasoline and cheap takeout. Forte would spend all day here if he could.
He dashed upstairs to the apartment so he could change into his coveralls, leaving his school uniform in a pile on the floor. Normally by this time of day he'd already be elbows deep in his SN95 Mustang, tweaking the modifications he'd made so far and planning the next one, but he had work to do before he could get to that. Routine maintenance on other peoples cars, mostly; buffing scratches, fixing flats, changing filters. Basic, boring stuff that actually paid, which was the only way he could afford to tinker with his Mustang, since the old man definitely wasn't going to foot the bill. By the time he was done, it was dark out, way too late to start another project. There was no way he was getting any work done on his baby now.
Forte wiped the back of his glove roughly across his forehead, probably smearing oil on his face, but whatever. Today was a total waste, all because Light couldn't mind his own damn business. If Forte went upstairs right now he was guaranteed to pick a fight, so instead he threw himself into his Mustang and peeled out of the garage, leaving skid marks on the concrete floor. The old man would be pissed. Forte didn't care.
The streetlights were a blur as Forte tore down the street, engine roaring. It was a ghost town this time of night, leaving Forte free to blow through lonely red lights and take the turns too wide. He would love to turn on the radio and blast whatever channel was playing the loudest music, but that was one more thing he didn't have the money to fix.
Forte whipped around a blind corner and saw a flash of blue before a sickening crunch jolted the entire car, throwing Forte hard against the seat belt. There was a thud as the front wheels ran over something big, and the car spun over to the curb.
Forte's blood turned to ice in his veins. For a long moment he couldn't move, hands clenching the steering wheel, breath caught in his throat. I just hit somebody, he thought. Fuck.
"Fuck," he scrambled to get out of the car. "Fuck!"
The body- the person, fuck- was sprawled out in the road, just a dark shadow against the blacktop because apparently things weren't bad enough already and the nearest streetlight was out. The person was sparking.
"Fuck, are you on fire?" Forte ran over to them and dropped onto his knees, hands hovering uselessly over the sparks. He fought down the urge to start smacking at them to put out the fire, because this poor fucker had taken enough hard knocks for one night. He couldn't see any flames, so it couldn't be that bad. "Fuck! Say something! Are you alive? Hey!"
There was a low moan, and their head rolled back just enough that he could see a face he recognized in a heartbeat; Rock fucking Light. Of fucking course. Of all people, it just had to be Rock.
"Forte?" Rock mumbled. His voice was faint and scratchy.
"Yeah?" Forte let one of his hands drop onto Rock's shoulder, holding on maybe a little too tightly, but Rock was probably too out of it to notice anyway. "Wait, how'd you know it was me?" He still hadn't opened his eyes. Was it the lucky guess of a century or had Rock secretly voted him "most likely to hit me with a car"?
"You keep saying fuck."
Hearing Rock curse made Forte want to laugh, but he was wound up so tight that if he started laughing now he didn't think he could stop.
"Fuck off," he said, and went to feel for his pulse, which was the one first-aid-related thing Forte was reasonably confident he knew how to do. Except- "You don't have a fucking pulse. Are you dead?"
"No," Rock said, frowning. "No, I-" Rock's eyes snapped open, and Forte gasped.
Rock's eyes were glowing.
"I'm not dead," he said.
"No shit!" Forte yelled back, voice pitched way up into the rafters. It was probably a shitty thing to do since he'd just hit Rock with his car, but Forte thought he deserved to yell a little, given the circumstances. "Fuck! You! Fuck you, what- fuck-"
"Don't freak out," Rock wheezed, voice cracking. The glow in his eyes guttered out like a candle, leaving them both in the dark once more.
"I'm not freaking out!" Forte yelled, panting for breath. He was definitely freaking out. Fuck!
Rock coughed, or at least Forte thought he did. It sounded like a burst of white noise, and a fresh spray of sparks poured from his flank. Pulse or no pulse, that couldn't be healthy. Forte grit his teeth and shuffled closer so he could get his arms under Rock, trying not to jostle him too much.
"Hold on, I- wait, Forte, I'm too heavy…" Rock's soft voice trailed off as Forte hauled him up off the ground. He used the momentum of the lift to stand and turn, carrying him over to his Mustang with a frustrated grunt. Fuck! What's he made of, bricks?
Forte's arms gave out just as they got to the open driver's side door, and they toppled into a pile on the seat. Rock gasped out another burst of static, and the glow in his eyes flickered back on for a split second. After a bit of awkward maneuvering, Forte managed to get Rock over to the passenger side, then collapsed into the driver's seat, breathing hard. He couldn't see any more sparks, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad for Rock but at least it was good news for his car. Setting his upholstery on fire would be the fucking cherry on top of this shitty sundae of a night.
"...You're really strong." Hearing the static-laden whisper, Forte glanced over at Rock, who was staring back at him with dark eyes. Forte didn't know if he could ever describe them as bright again, now that he'd seen them lit up for real.
"Yes or no," Forte said. "Are you a robot?"
"Yes."
"Fuck!" Forte let his head fall back against the seat with a thud. "You're not gonna explode, are you?"
Rock laughed weakly. His voice kept cutting out, flickering into static, but Forte would know the sound of Rock's laugh anywhere. He was always so fucking cheerful, laughing at the smallest, stupidest things, like the threat of death. "No, I'm not going to explode."
"Good. Fucking fantastic." Forte brought his hands up to the steering wheel, then let them drop into his lap. "Where's your house?" The hospital was out, for obvious reasons, unless one of the doctors was moonlighting as a robotics engineer. Rock should be able to fix himself at home, right?
There was no response, and when Forte looked over he saw that Rock had turned away.
"What's the problem? Don't want me to know where you live?" It had never bothered Forte before, but right now, sitting side by side in the middle of the night after having a bombshell like that dropped on him, the thought that Rock didn't trust him was like a kick in the teeth.
"No!" Rock said, shaking his head frantically. "No, not at all, it's just…" he bit his lip, hesitating. "I'm not supposed to be out this late. I was going to try and sneak back in, but there's no way I can fix this by myself. My dad's going to be furious. I guess I'm just… not ready to go home yet."
"Okay," Forte said. "You- okay."
Making up his mind, Forte started up the car and pulled away from the curb, cruising away from the scene of the crime not even half as fast as he'd arrived. He was still buzzing with nerves from the close call. If it had been anyone else- if Rock had been anything else-
"Um, where are we going?"
"My place. I don't know shit about fixing robots, but I'll give it my best shot. Can't be that different from a car."
"Wha- just like that?"
"If you don't want your dad to know, then we won't let him find out. 'Sides, it's my fault you're busted up in the first place." Forte could practically feel Rock staring at him, but he stubbornly refused to take his eyes off the road.
After an agonizingly long pause, Rock finally spoke, voice firm and certain through the static. "Okay. I'm counting on you, Forte."
Fuck.
.
The lights were off when they got back to the garage. Zero and the old man were probably asleep already, which was just as well, because Forte definitely didn't want them walking in on him fixing Rock. He shut the garage door and the door to the apartment stairs before turning on the lights, just to be safe. When he got back to the car, Rock had taken off his shirt and was looking at him expectantly.
Without clothes in the way, Rock's mechanical nature was glaringly obvious. Flesh-toned paint had been scraped away in long, ugly streaks, exposing the bare metal beneath. Thinking back, Rock was never one to show much skin; he wore leggings and a long-sleeved shirt underneath his soccer uniform even in the middle of summer.
"I ran a diagnostic, and it looks like most of the damage is superficial, but the impact knocked my pelvic actuator out of place and it sheared through some wires. That's where the sparks are coming from. I promise I'm not about to explode." Rock grinned, like it was some kind of inside joke. At this point it probably was. Fuck, I can't believe I'm sharing inside jokes with Rock Light.
"The wires are still live, so to replace them I'll have to turn them off, but once I do I'll be completely unconscious until my repairs are completed. Do you think you can handle that?"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Forte scoffed, grabbing a toolbox from the workbench. He focused on the damage, trying valiantly to look like he knew what he was doing. "So, uh, how do I get at the wires? Is there a button I can press that'll pop you open or something?"
"No." Rock frowned, looking a little grossed out. To be fair, if someone suggested trying to pop Forte open, he would also be grossed out. "You'll have to unscrew all the plating around that area, so please start by my hip and work your way up."
"Got it." Forte eyeballed the screws, dug a screwdriver out of the toolbox, and was pleased to find that he'd guessed the right size. He ended up sitting on the floor of the car, legs sticking out the open door, slowly undoing several rows of thin plating. As annoying as it was to unscrew a million fucking screws, this kind of articulation was a real feat of engineering, and Forte was reluctantly impressed. He ran his finger along the edge of one plate, jerking his hand back when Rock coughed. "You okay? Did that hurt?"
"N-no, don't worry about it," Rock coughed again. "... It's a good thing my plating's still intact. There's no way I could hide a weld scar from my dad."
"Uh-huh. Are you gonna be able to hide all these fucking scuff marks?"
Rock nodded. "Oh, definitely. No problem. I have to touch up my paint all the time. With this many joints the paint chips an awful lot."
It was a little gross to hear the separated plating described as joints. It made it sound like Rock had an exoskeleton. I guess it is technically an exoskeleton? Fuck, okay, I'm not going to think about that.
As he worked he tried to remember if there had been any tells that might have tipped him off to Rock's secret. He certainly weighed like he was made of metal, not that Forte had ever had a reason to know that before tonight.
"Hey, do you eat?" Forte asked. "I feel like I've seen you eat before." He'd definitely seen him drink before. Sitting behind him in class meant he had a perfect view of the lemon-flavored energy drink that never left Rock's desk.
"I can eat in small amounts," Rock admitted. "Since I'm supposed to pass for human, it would be suspicious if I never ate anything at all. I don't like it very much, though."
"What about that lemon stuff you're always drinking?"
"That's… well. That's not fit for human consumption, let's put it that way."
So Rock was drinking, what, gasoline? He was drinking gasoline in class? That was pretty hardcore, actually.
Forte set the last half-ring plate with the others on the driver's seat. Now Rock's… abdominal cavity? Engine bay? Was fully exposed, sparking wires and all. He eyed those too, but decided he'd better ask Rock what kind of wire he needed, rather than try to guess. There was no need to push his luck, especially since today had been pretty fucking unlucky so far.
Thankfully, they did have the right kind of wire, and Forte brought the spool over beside the toolbox. He sat back down and leaned against the seat, settling in with Rock's leg pressed along the curve of his back. He focused on the rhythmic snick of his wire cutters as he finally felt some of his adrenaline fade. A few hours ago he would've given anything to never snip another fucking wire in his life, but now it was a relief to fall back into the familiar routine.
"Forte." His eyes snapped back to Rock's face at the sound of his name. Rock smiled, a little softer than usual. "Thank you. I really do appreciate you doing this for me."
"Don't worry about it," he said, voice a little weaker than he meant it to be. He cleared his throat and gathered up the wires, inspecting them for imaginary flaws just so he could escape from those earnest blue eyes for a second. "That's all of them, then. Now we just need to swap 'em out and you'll be good as new. You got an off switch or should I get a wrench and whack you over the head with it?"
Ignoring the taunt, Rock closed his eyes. "I'll activate sleep mode now, it shouldn't take long. Don't touch any of the wires until I'm completely powered down, okay?"
"No shit, I'm not an idiot." Forte fussed with the wires for a moment longer before giving up and looking back at the robot sitting beside him. "Hey, Rock?"
"Hmm?"
"What were you even doing out so late?"
Wordlessly, Rock grabbed his discarded shirt and passed it down to Forte, who held it up to see…
"'Proto Man 2021 World Tour'?" Forte whipped around to gape at Rock. "You snuck out to go to a concert? You!?"
Rock laughed softly. "You seem more surprised about this than the robot thing."
"I mean, I can buy that you're secretly a state-of-the-art android, but a goody-two-shoes like you pulling a stunt like this?" Forte shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I can't fucking believe it!"
Rock hummed, looking oddly pleased. "You should come with me next time."
"Next time?" Forte grinned. "You're gonna sneak out again, you fucking delinquent? Ha! Count me in!"
"Great," Rock murmured, already half asleep. "It's a date."
Forte watched as Rock's breathing slowed to a stop and the tiny blinking lights tucked in among various components in his engine bay went dark. When he was sure Rock was well and truly asleep, he let his head drop onto Rock's lap, gently enough that he hopefully wouldn't give himself a concussion on his steel-plated thighs. Rock's cheerfulness must be contagious, because Forte couldn't stop smiling.
Fuck!
