Author: Jen
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Merton decides to add a new member to the team. Tommy gets to know him.
Spoilers: 'Mertonator', and very slight for 'Mr Roboto' and 'Big Bad Wolf'
Disclaimarama: They're still not mine ('cepting Merton's trouser parts, although I'm surprised no one's offered me anything for those). No money whatsoever being made from this fic. Damn.
Warning: there's a robot having sex. Does that bother you?
Author's note: I said I would, and I did. So yah boo sucks to you all. This fic is brought to you by Echo biscuits, 'The Best of The Divine Comedy', and Milk. It's nice.
* * * * *
For once, the lights inside the Lair were bright, dazzling even. It was a stark contrast to the fading light outside, and when he stepped through the door, Tommy found himself screwing up his eyes, trying to adjust.
Merton was seated behind the desk, concentrating on something that Tommy couldn't see. The football player allowed himself a little smirk when he realised Merton hadn't noticed his arrival, and he hovered in the doorway, watching his best friend examining something under a magnifying glass. He knew Merton would be annoyed when Tommy eventually chose to startle him, but it was oddly thrilling to watch Merton focusing so intently on whatever it was, utterly unaware that he wasn't alone.
He couldn't tell exactly what Merton was doing. In fact, it didn't seem as if Merton actually was doing anything at all, apart from looking at the whatever-it-was through the magnifying glass. He figured it had to be something important, though, the way the Goth was turning it this way and that, examining it from every angle, wearing a strange smile of recognition. It flashed under the light for a second, and Tommy caught the gleam of metal, intensified by the glass. It was bright enough to make him scrunch his eyes closed again, and he drew a sharp hiss of breath, loud enough to catch Merton's attention.
"How long were you standing there, peeping Tommy?" Merton snapped, just the slightest hint of amusement in his voice reassuring the jock that his friend wasn't really angry.
"Long enough to know that you're way too easily amused." Tommy crossed the room to stand behind Merton's chair. The whatever-it-was had been dropped back onto the desk, but was now indistinguishable from about two-dozen other whatevers. Little bits of metal and plastic, some looking suspiciously charred, lay scattered across a piece of old newspaper, along with what Tommy guessed were circuit boards. "Dude, what is all this?" he asked, gesturing to the mess.
Merton stood and walked away, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, nothing special, little project, you know, just...rebuilding your cyborg."
"Re-whatting my what now?"
The Goth spun around, grinning manically, arms spread wide in supplication.
"With good reason," he whined.
"Are you serious? How is that even possible? Your cyborg melted him!"
Merton returned to the desk, perching on a corner that was relatively free from clutter.
"Well, I went back to the alley, took a look round, and found a few remains - " Tommy grimaced, and Merton, catching his mistake, hurriedly corrected himself, " - cyborg components. I figured that, in the interests of science, and preserving the timeline, I should collect them and bring them back here."
"The timeline? What does that have to do with anything?"
"This technology," Merton gestured to the charred remains of Tommy's doppelganger, "is much more advanced than anything known in contemporary science. If it were to fall into the wrong hands, like some Government guys, or the Mafia, or someone - "
"Merton, this is Pleasantville, there's no Mafia here."
"If it were to fall into the wrong hands, it could mean that someone has access to knowledge of the future. In effect, it could change the future, and hence the present. And all kinds of wackiness could ensue."
Tommy furrowed his brow, making his confusion even more obvious.
"But how does that lead to rebuilding my cyborg? And how do you know you can do it?" Tommy gestured once more to the robot remnants. "I mean, there aren't enough pieces here to make a decent radio, never mind a robot me."
He watched as the Goth pushed himself up off the desk and walked across the Lair again, this time coming to a stop by a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. When it was opened up, Tommy saw inside another pile of equally singed metal pieces, and one melted metal lump.
Memories of the previous night's events flashed before his eyes, and he remembered when he'd last seen the vaguely cubic pile of molten circuits.
"Merton, there wasn't enough of my cyborg left to salvage. That cube's all that was left." He turned and pointed to the bits of metal on the desk. "Those circuits aren't even from my cyborg! Where'd you get them?"
Merton took a step towards him, crossing his arms over his chest, sheepishly trying to meet Tommy's stare.
"The circuits on the desk are yours - from your double, I mean. I managed to extract those from..." he gestured to the cube in the chest. "The others are from...elsewhere..."
"Where elsewhere?"
"From..." He muttered something that Tommy didn't quite hear, so the jock 'ahem'ed, staring pointedly at his friend. "From...Geiger," he mumbled.
"Oh, great! You're rebuilding a robot me using parts from another evil cyborg! Why don't you just use bits of your own cyborg while you're at it?"
"Hey, I'm just using the basic frame," Merton protested, heading back over to the desk, where he picked up a handful of circuit boards and robot fragments. "All the major circuitry, I managed to salvage from your cyborg. Think of it as a brain transplant."
"'Cause that makes it sound so much better," Tommy quipped, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Why are you doing this, really? I mean, you could have just melted down all the robot bits so no one could do anything with them."
For a moment, Merton looked genuinely lost for words, something that Tommy didn't see very often, and he couldn't help but wonder what was going in Merton's mind right then. The whole plan was insane, whatever the Goth's reasons might be.
"It's... I just thought that...with a robot replica, we'd have a... a contingency plan. Like the Buffy-bot!"
The taller boy frowned again, trying to place the reference. When enlightenment dawned, he set his jaw, angry all over again.
"Fantastic! So now you're planning your back-up for when I die."
He listened to Merton's agitated sigh, and watched as the dark-haired boy furrowed his brow, hands waving vaguely as he tried to find a way of phrasing his thoughts.
"Look, the point is, I think we'd benefit from having a cyborg fighting on our side." Merton's voice dropped, only serving to make Tommy even more worried about his friend. "You heard what he said. Whatever it is you do in the future that's so important, I'm not gonna be there with you. I think it'd be a good thing if I...if you had another sidekick around."
Tommy could only shake his head and watch as Merton took his seat once more to re-examine the bits of robot brain on his desk. He wondered whether or not to remind Merton that they still had Lori, but he got the impression that Merton wouldn't be appeased by that fact. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that Merton wasn't telling him, but the Goth didn't seem in any hurry to drop him a clue.
* * * * *
The next time he visited the Lair, there was much less mess and slightly more robot. About six feet of robot, to be precise. A mismatch of metal parts made up a barely humanoid frame, which stood in the middle of the floor. It had two legs, a vague torso area, a round shape on top, which Tommy guessed housed the major circuitry, and one and a half arms. It reminded him a little of the cast-iron valet in his parents' bedroom, on which his father would lay out his suit the night before an important day's work.
Merton was seated at the desk once more, tinkering with what the jock guessed was the robot's missing forearm. This time, Merton heard his entrance and looked up to greet him. Tommy was surprised to note that his friend's face was smudged with grease and a little shiny with perspiration. The sight of Merton looking less than impeccably groomed was almost as unnerving as the sight of the half-finished cyborg standing between him and the Goth.
"I see you've been busy," Tommy noted, nodding towards the robot. Merton grinned, a little embarrassed, and set down the metal framework he was toying with.
"Yeah, I've really been getting into it," the dark-haired boy admitted, before stifling a yawn.
"Hope you've not been skipping sleep to work on this thing." Tommy crossed the room warily, examining the robot skeleton. "I mean, it's not like this is an essential project."
Merton rose from his seat and moved to stand by Tommy, bringing with him the arm section from the desk.
"I still don't get why you're so against this, Tommy." The Goth took hold of one metal arm, and held up the other section as if trying to figure out how the two connected. "I mean, think of all the advantages another member of the team would bring."
Tommy wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but he had been thinking about it, ever since Merton had revealed his plan. Meeting his time-travelling cyborg double had been strangely fascinating: like meeting a distant relative for the first time. The two of them had already had some kind of connection, even though they'd never met. The guy knew his future: knew that somehow, he was destined for greatness. Once he'd got over the shock, he hadn't even thought of the guy as a robot. As far as Tommy was concerned, the guy had been alive, and once the work was over and they'd got rid of his assassin, when the adrenalin rush had worn off, he'd realised he actually felt sad that the guy had been lost in battle. Never mind that he'd planned to 'auto-terminate' once the mission was over. Tommy had felt it as a loss.
Standing in front of the thing Merton was building was nothing like that. For all he cared, it was just a collection of metal and circuitry. He couldn't make any kind of link between the guy he'd met, and the gadget propped up in Merton's Lair. Somehow, he just couldn't picture his double properly anymore. The guy was gone, and no matter what Merton did with the robot parts he'd collected, the Goth couldn't bring back his doppelganger.
"I don't get it," he muttered. "You said all the body parts were from the Geiger cyborg, but this looks like a hat-stand. Geiger was way bigger than this."
"That's because Geiger was built to look like his creator," Merton explained, busily attaching the hand he'd been working on to its arm. "All that was just some kind of padding to make him the right size. I mean, I'm no cybernetics expert, but my guess is that any kind of humanoid robot just needs this basic skeleton, and it's all the cosmetic stuff that makes it look human."
Tommy didn't respond. He really didn't know what to say. All he could do was watch as Merton went at the thing with his screwdriver, and wonder what the hell they were going to do once the robot was working again.
* * * * *
Tommy realised as he walked around the back of Merton's house to the basement door that he hadn't given much thought to how his friend had managed to rebuild the cyborg so quickly, or how he would activate it once it was complete. Getting it to move and stuff was one thing, but the guy he'd met had had a personality and everything: he could think for himself. Merton had tried to explain how a cyborg was more than just a robot. There'd been something about them being part human, but Tommy hadn't been able to follow it for very long. He just couldn't picture the guy he'd met being built in a lab somewhere. Okay, the cyborg had talked like a character from a cheesy action flick, but the way he'd moved around, and acted... He just couldn't connect that guy with what Merton had been doing in the Lair for the past few days.
He let himself into the Lair, feeling apprehension weighing heavy, wondering what exactly he'd see inside.
What he saw froze him to the spot. Standing in the middle of the Lair, where the robot skeleton had been last time, with its back to him, was a naked Tommy Dawkins.
Merton stood by it, poking a screwdriver in its ear.
"Merton! What the hell?"
"Oh, hey Tommy!" Merton dropped the screwdriver, quickly stepping away from the cyborg. "Didn't hear you come in. Almost done here."
Tommy could only stand in the doorway, unable to take his eyes off his double, as Merton walked over to the desk to pick up something Tommy couldn't see.
"What the hell?"
"Isn't it cool? It took me a while to find the right materials, but I found this great cybernetics website, and tracked down a whole bunch of robot stuff. It arrived this morning, and I couldn't wait to get to work."
Despite his excitement, Merton seemed a little anxious about something. Tommy wondered briefly what it might be, but he couldn't focus his mind on anything but the fact that he was staring at what he presumed was an exact replica of his own butt.
"What the hell?"
"What's wrong?" Merton's brow creased, and he walked tentatively across the floor to stand in front of the football player. "Is this a little weird for you?"
"Damn straight it's weird! Merton, it's me, and it's naked, and it's in your bedroom!"
"Well, of course it's naked," Merton answered, a definite shake in his voice, "none of my clothes will fit it, that's why I asked you to bring some."
Without a word, Tommy handed Merton his backpack, still looking at the cyborg. He searched desperately for something to say, but suddenly the entire situation seemed so insane that he couldn't be sure if any of it was really happening.
"Merton," he eventually stammered, "I thought you were just going to build a robot to fight with us. You never said you were gonna make it look like me again."
"I thought that's what you'd want," the Goth replied, suddenly sounding confused. "I mean, you were all weird about saying goodbye to your cyborg, I thought if I rebuilt him you'd want him the way he was."
"Merton, you didn't rebuild my cyborg, you put his programming into some other robot bits and made a new robot. Nowhere did it say you had to make it look like me." He took a small step towards it. "Couldn't you at least have put some underwear on it?"
"Hey, you turned up early. I wasn't expecting you to walk in while I was still working on it." Merton turned away to look at his handiwork. "You gotta admit," he murmured, "it looks pretty good." The Goth looked back up at his best friend, but Tommy was still staring at the cyborg.
Hesitantly, Tommy stepped closer, and around, to see his cyborg from the front.
"What the hell?"
"What now?" Merton scurried around to stand beside him, studying the robot critically. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Tommy gestured wildly at the thing standing in front of him, practically screeching. "You gave it a... Why did you give it a...? What on earth made you think it would need a...?"
He watched as realisation quickly dawned on Merton's face, soon turning to mortified embarrassment.
"Well," he mumbled, "I had some circuits left over. It was either that or give him two extra thumbs, but that would have just looked weird."
"Oh, like having a naked replica of me in your bedroom is perfectly normal?" He sighed heavily and paced across the room, dropping on to Merton's bed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. "For Pete's sake, Merton, cover it up!"
He watched as Merton hesitated for a moment before grabbing his dressing gown from where it hung on the closet door and draping it around the cyborg's shoulders, fumbling a little with the tie until it was fastened securely. When he was done, the dark-haired boy walked over and took a seat next to Tommy on the bed.
"So," Tommy breathed, when he was sure he could speak again, "what now? I mean, is it...is he ready to go yet?"
"More or less," Merton answered, not looking at him. "I mean, I can switch him on and he'll talk to us and stuff, but once he's up and running, I'll probably still need to make a few adjustments.
Tommy watched the cyborg for a moment. It was definitely weird. When he'd first met his double, the guy had been walking and, in a robot kinda way, talking, but now he just stood there, like a shop dummy.
"What then? I mean, where's he gonna stay? It's not like we can put him back in his box when we're done playing with him."
"Why not?" He turned to face Merton, startled and confused by the Goth's question. "What I mean is, we can just deactivate him and put him somewhere out of the way."
"Are you nuts?" Tommy shot back, trying to resist the urge to throttle Merton for ever suggesting this in the first place. "You can't just turn him off! He's a person. Or he will be once he's activated. Dude, he's me!"
"No he's not." There was an odd tone to Merton's voice that his best friend couldn't quite place. "He's just a cyborg. Everything he is, it's all down to the way he was programmed."
"But you told me cyborgs were part human."
"Only in the sense that there's some organic matter in what passes for their brain. He's not gonna be conscious, he has no sense of self."
"How do you even know that?" Tommy was back to screeching again, rising to his feet to stare down at Merton. "As far as I'm concerned, he was a real person, and as soon as you activate him, he will be again. You can't treat him like a toy." He didn't know why exactly he felt the need to defend his cyborg double, but the way Merton talked about him...it gave him shivers to think that someone could treat the guy as anything less than human.
"C'mon," he continued, turning away from Merton while trying not to look at the cyborg either. "What are we gonna do with him? Where's he gonna stay? We need to think about this stuff, man."
"Well," Merton mused, "I guess he could stay here. I mean, my folks hardly ever come down here, so it's not like I'll have to hide him away or anything."
"What about...I mean, does he need to eat or anything? And what's he gonna do when we're not fighting bad guys?"
Merton sighed in defeat.
"I guess we're just gonna have to deal with all this as we go along. I mean, after all this work, it's not like I can just dismantle him and forget the whole thing."
Tommy tried not to be angry. Obviously Merton was aware of whatever bond he seemed to have developed with the cyborg, and knew that there was no way Tommy would agree to taking him to pieces.
"Fine," he groaned, "just do it. Flip the switch, dial up, whatever it is you gotta do."
He barely caught Merton's giddy little smile as the Goth retrieved a palm-sized black box from the desk, before turning to face the cyborg, and with great ceremony, he pressed the single button on the control.
Tommy watched, not daring to breath, until the cyborg's eyes snapped open.
"Unit six-zero-zero-one online," it droned. "Awaiting instructions."
Tommy grimaced at the sound. Suddenly the whole thing was twice as weird as when he'd first walked into the room.
"Merton, can you do anything about the voice, 'cause that's gonna get old real soon."
When he spoke, the cyborg's head swivelled round to stare directly at him. It was a little unnerving, to say the least.
"You are still here," it rumbled. "The X-900 failed its mission?"
Tommy merely nodded, unsure exactly how to respond.
"He's gone," Merton piped up, but the cyborg kept its gaze fixed on Tommy.
"Then my mission was successful. It has been an honour." It nodded at the football player, then closed its eyes. "Begin auto-terminate sequence."
"Wait!" Tommy jumped forward, a hand landing on his double's shoulder. It opened its eyes again, its gaze boring deep into Tommy's own, and the jock couldn't help but notice that Merton had somehow managed to match his own eye colour almost perfectly. "I mean, you don't have to do that."
"But my task has been accomplished. I have served my purpose." Its arms moved under the black silk robe, and Tommy guessed it was trying to gesture. Incredible. It was behaving pretty much the way he remembered. Merton obviously knew his work. "There is no further need for my presence in this time period."
It closed its eyes again, and Tommy wondered how someone could be so at peace with the notion of auto-termination.
"Listen dude," he pleaded, "we brought you back online for a reason." He glanced over at Merton, as if to ask what that reason was. "You, uh, you have a new mission now."
"You will instruct me?"
It was only partly a question, as far as Tommy could tell. He remembered how the cyborg had called him 'great one'. It was automatic for the guy to defer to him: essentially, Tommy was his master. The knowledge was odd, and he wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with being in control of another person's life.
"Kinda," he ventured, looking over at Merton for help.
"What he means is," Merton said as he moved to stand on the other side of Tommy's doppelganger, "we have kind of an ongoing mission, and we thought you could be a part of it."
"An ongoing mission?"
"Yeah," Merton said, warming to his subject. "Fighting evil. And we already know you're good at that."
Tommy tried to ignore the memory of his double being blasted so easily by the Merton-cyborg.
Merton looked over at him, hands clasped together.
"You know, I think I will see if I can fix the voice."
The Goth went over to the desk and retrieved a cable that was attached at one end to his computer. He fished up the free end and took it back to the cyborg.
"Hold on a minute," Tommy snapped, gesturing at the port connector Merton was holding, "where's that supposed to go?"
"Relax," Merton assured him. "Geiger parts, remember?" With that, he moved behind Tommy's double, and attached the plug to an unseen socket on its neck. He watched for a while as Merton busied himself at the computer, calling up programmes until he evidently found what he was looking for. "Okay Tommy," he said as he picked up what the jock guessed was a microphone, also attached to the CPU, "I need you to speak into this."
Tommy moved to stand by Merton, looking at the monitor and failing to make sense of whatever programme Merton was using. The Goth held the mic under his nose and tapped a few keys.
"What am I supposed to say?" Tommy asked, before Merton pulled the mic back and hit another key with a triumphant smile.
"That's it."
"It is?"
"All I needed was a sample of your voice. Now I should be able to use the recording to generate a voice pattern which I can download into our cybernetic friend here, and that should get rid of the Schwarzenegger-speak."
Tommy looked on, feeling annoyingly impotent as Merton set to work doing whatever it was he'd just described. On the other side of the desk, the cyborg watched them both.
"Merton?" Tommy asked, casting a quick glance over at unit six-zero-zero-one. "Can you make him get dressed?
* * * * *
Something about the thought of his double living in Merton's basement had made Tommy feel rather uneasy, so he'd decided that, for the time being, it would stay with him. Now, it stood in the middle of his bedroom, watching the football player as he paced.
"So..." Tommy breezed, wondering what he was supposed to do now. "What kind of stuff do you do?"
"I am programmed to prevent the X-9000 from completing its mission," the cyborg told him. Sure enough, Merton had fixed the voice. Tommy didn't think it sounded too much like him, even though Merton had said it did. To him, the voice was deeper, and still had a vaguely tinny quality that quietly reminded him that the person he was talking to was actually metal on the inside.
"I know that's what you were programmed for, but what else do you do when you're not...terminating?"
"That is my sole purpose." The cyborg cocked its head to one side, looking for all the world like a confused puppy.
"But not anymore," Tommy persisted. "I mean, you're one of us now,
and there's more to our life than our mission." His double stared back blankly at him. "Isn't there anything you want to do?"
"Want?"
"Yeah," the jock continued, wondering just how complicated this was going to get. "You know, something that would make you happy."
"Working alongside you is the greatest honour I could hope for."
Tommy sighed. While it felt good to know that he'd have adoring fans some time in the future, having one of them adoring him in his bedroom was very disconcerting.
Apparently, helping his cyborg get a life was going to take time.
"Okay then, we'll come back to that." He studied the cyborg for a moment. It didn't seem to mind him staring at it: all it did was look directly ahead, until Tommy chose to make conversation, then it would fix its gaze on him so intensely that Tommy couldn't look away even if he wanted to. "Would you do me a favour and sit down?" he told his double. It was beginning to bug him that the guy was just standing there.
Obediently, the cyborg sat down. On the floor where he'd been standing. Tommy was about to correct him, but stopped himself. He was responsible for the guy, but he couldn't keep ordering him around. Instead, he sighed and moved to sit Indian-style on the floor opposite the cyborg.
"How about your name?" he suggested. "I mean, we can't keep calling you unit six-zero-zero-nine."
"You wish to change my designation?"
"No," the football player sighed again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "I want to give you a name. It's not fair to keep shouting, 'hey you' whenever anybody wants to talk to you."
"You will choose my name?"
"Isn't there a name you want? A name that means something to you?"
"Isaac," the cyborg replied, with barely a moment's hesitation.
"Isaac? Interesting choice," Tommy mused.
"I was created at the Isaac Asimov institute of cybernetics," the cyborg continued by way of explanation. "All of its products are referred to as Isaacs."
Tommy thought about this for a moment. The name probably wouldn't have been his first choice, but if that's what his cyborg wanted, who was he to argue?
"Okay, buddy, Isaac it is. Hey, way to go! You just made your first decision about your new life!" He smiled broadly, and after a moment, Isaac echoed it with a smile of his own.
Now that was weird. Tommy watched Isaac smile. It was perfect. Merton had managed to get everything right, down to the way Isaac's eyes crinkled at the corners. It wasn't bits of metal moving to widen the mouth. It was a genuine smile.
It was almost scary, the amount of detail Merton had put into recreating the cyborg. Tommy couldn't find a single aspect Isaac's face that was different to his, right down to the colour of the eyes and the shape of the eyebrows. It wasn't quite the same as seeing his inner demons take on his own form: that guy had been downright wrong, all that stuff that he would never say coming out of his mouth. He'd seen his own features twisted into a sneer, heard his own voice spitting out insults and put-downs, but he hadn't felt any kind of connection with that kid. Watching Isaac, however, that was... He couldn't find words to describe the feeling, a kind of tingle in his stomach, and a sense of familiarity, that he got just by being around Isaac.
He thought back to a few days before, when he'd walked into Merton's Lair and seen the metal skeleton standing there, half of it shiny and new, half dull from lack of care. It was almost impossible to believe that the skeleton was standing here talking to him right now: he couldn't seem to visualise the process Isaac had undergone from scrap metal to actual person. If he just looked at his double, there was nothing to suggest that he was anything other than human. The hair moved and shone just like real hair, and he tried hard not to think about where Merton had got it. The skin looked like real skin: only if he looked for it could he spot the faint plastic sheen under the light, but even so, it still looked real, it looked soft.
He couldn't help himself. Slowly he reached forward and let his hand rest on Isaac's, hoping to find out whether or not it actually felt like real skin. He wondered briefly if Isaac would mind, then felt silly for doing so. The guy was programmed to worship him, he wouldn't complain about a questioning gesture like this.
"You're warm," he whispered, looking up at Isaac in surprise at the sensation. It hadn't occurred to him when he'd hugged the guy just a few days before. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that this time, he was more aware of Isaac's origins, and he'd been thinking about the metal skeleton he'd seen not long ago when he'd reached out to touch Isaac's hand.
"My temperature is controlled internally to ensure that all my components are kept at an optimum heat for correct operation," Isaac droned, as if it was a pre-programmed response to such a question.
Tommy answered with a lop-sided smile. The guy's innocence was adorable, but he suspected it might get a little tiring after too long, and he hoped they'd be able to assimilate him into their lives before that happened.
He realised with a start that he was still touching the cyborg's hand, but the sensation was so intriguing that he didn't want to let go right away. Instead, he took hold of the hand, running his thumb over the knuckles. Whatever Merton had used for the skin, it was pliable enough to let him feel the metal skeleton underneath it, but unless he visualised the robot hand Merton had been working on a few days ago, it didn't feel any different to regular human bones. If he didn't give it too much attention, it felt just like holding a normal hand.
Trying not to think about how he must have looked, he flattened his palm against Isaac's, comparing hand size and skin colour. It looked just like his own hand, although there were none of the calluses he'd developed from several months of fighting, and the slight scar he'd picked up a couple of weeks ago one the pad of one finger wasn't there.
To his surprise, Isaac locked their fingers together, his grip just firm enough to send a trigger of electric pulses down Tommy's arm, which earthed themselves in his stomach. He looked back up at the cyborg, who simply matched his gaze, his face expressionless. He tried to drop his hand, but Isaac still held onto it, so that he ended up with both their hands resting on his knee. Tommy watched their intertwined fingers before a moment, then shifted his gaze back to Isaac's face, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He swallowed, trying to suppress the nervousness that had sprung up inside him, and carefully raised his free hand to Isaac's hair. He pressed his palm against the curls above Isaac's temple: the hair felt soft, like it had just been washed. When Isaac didn't make any attempt to shift his hand away, he began twisting his fingers gently into the cyborg's hair, watching the way it shined as it moved under the light.
"Can you...can you feel this?" he asked awkwardly, suddenly wishing he had Merton's ability to put his thoughts into words. "I mean, do you have a nervous system, or whatever?"
"It is a complicated process," Isaac told him, and Tommy was surprised to see him smile demurely as he did so, "but yes, I am capable of processing what you are doing."
"No, I mean..." He dropped his right hand back into his lap, covering both his and Isaac's interlocked fingers. "I mean, how does it feel? Is it making you uncomfortable?" Quickly, he began to worry that Isaac might just be allowing this because he was programmed to accept Tommy as his leader or something. For all his curiosity, he didn't want to make the guy uncomfortable.
He watched as Isaac appeared to be contemplating the question, and he hoped that his doppelganger wouldn't be bothered by it.
"It is you," he replied eventually, "so it cannot be anything but good."
For some reason that he couldn't quite place, that bothered Tommy.
"No, forget that it's me for a second, okay?" Isaac cocked his head to one side, and again Tommy felt an odd tingle in his stomach. The action was indescribably endearing. "Does it bother you to have someone touch you like this?"
"No," he answered without hesitation. "Right now, this does not bother me. Does it bother you?"
Tommy let out a breathy laugh. Actually, it did bother him, but only in the sense that he was sure he looked like an idiot, holding hands with a robotic replica of himself. He shook his head and smiled, and to his surprise, Isaac stretched out his free hand and pressed it to Tommy's hair, the way he had done just moments ago.
The jock moved his right hand back, this time to touch the golden skin on Isaac's cheek. He traced his thumb slowly over the robot equivalent of a high cheekbone, then along Isaac's jaw-line, before cupping his palm around the curve of the cyborg's cheek. So far he hadn't come across anything that said 'robot': it was just like caressing real human skin.
He swallowed against another rush of nervousness as he realised that this actually was caressing now, not just touching. His fingers brushed across the skin beneath Isaac's earlobe, and he watched, astonished, as Isaac's eyelids slid shut in response to his touch.
"This is so weird," he chuckled, as he brushed the pad of his thumb under Isaac's lower lip. The skin there was even softer, the lips velvety and slightly flushed. He watched, transfixed, as Isaac's lips parted just slightly, and he caught the flash of a deep pink tongue just behind them. He couldn't believe the amount of work Merton had put into building Isaac: so many little details that all went into making him appear completely human.
Gently, he shook his left hand free from Isaac's and lifted it to the cyborg's other cheek. He was well aware that what he was doing had passed so far beyond curiosity, but he couldn't hold himself back. Isaac was amazing, in every imaginable way, and all he wanted to do was find new ways of assuring himself that the guy was real. Real not just in the sense of being a person, but real as in actually there with him, letting Tommy touch him like this. He knew it ought to bother him that Merton had put so much effort into creating an exact replica of his best friend, but he couldn't focus his thoughts on anything but Isaac for more than a few seconds.
"You're incredible," he whispered, realising halfway through how cheesy it probably sounded. He could feel himself blushing as Isaac's hand ceased its movement through his hair, and he wondered if perhaps he should have just kept his mouth shut.
"Well," the cyborg replied, and Tommy couldn't help thinking that his voice sounded just a little bit more tinny than it ought to, "I was programmed to be like you."
The jock pondered the statement for a moment, before breaking into a smile that almost made his jaw ache. Apparently, that was a huge compliment. Any lingering fears about making Isaac uncomfortable were quickly melting away, and before he had time to let himself think too much about it, he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against Isaac's.
The cyborg responded after a moment's hesitation, mimicking Tommy's movements, his left hand still entwined in Tommy's hair. The sensation of Isaac's lips moving slowly against his was sending tiny little shivers through his body: on one hand, it was a regular kiss, but on the other, the guy he was kissing was as far from regular as he could possibly imagine, and this amazing guy was actually kissing him. He'd almost expected it to feel strange, after all, this counted as at least two firsts for him, as far as he could recall. Definitely his first time kissing a guy, which possibly outranked the fact that it was his first kiss with a cyborg too, but even so, he couldn't concentrate on the weirdness on account of the tingly pleasure was much more important right now.
He pulled back, drawing a deep breath and looking quizzically at Isaac.
"Is something wrong?" the cyborg asked, evidently catching Tommy's puzzled expression.
"No, nothing wrong," Tommy assured him, again brushing his thumb over Isaac's bottom lip. "I dunno, I guess I was just expecting you to stop me, or say 'does not compute' or something like that."
Isaac appeared to study his face for a moment, watching his eyes, then his lips. Tommy decided to take that as an invitation, and he caught Isaac's quick smile as he moved forward and captured the cyborg's mouth once more. He slid his hands around to the back of Isaac's neck, trying not to shudder when his fingers caught what must have been the port into which Merton had plugged the microphone. Instead, he let one hand entwine in the cyborg's hair, while the other snaked down to begin stroking his back in small, slow circles. Isaac responded by wrapping his arms around Tommy's waist, and the jock leaned further in, trying to get closer.
When it became obvious that he couldn't lean any further forward, he shifted, still keeping up the insistent movement of his lips against Isaac's, and got to his knees, straddling the cyborg's legs so he could press his chest against the other boy's. He felt Isaac tighten his hold, and he groaned into the kiss, parting his lips and gently tracing Isaac's lip with his tongue. He wondered idly if this was part of Isaac's programming, or if the cyborg was just imitating everything he did. Not that it mattered much, because Isaac's tongue was already sliding against his, warm, wet velvet kisses sending pulses shooting straight down to his groin.
Almost running on autopilot, he slipped one hand underneath the shirt the cyborg had been given, running his hand over what was soft skin as far as he cared. Instinctively he pushed his hips forward, already feeling a tightening in his groin, and was startled to feel an answering hardness beginning to form.
Curious, he reluctantly tore his lips from Isaac's, studying his face for a second before dropping his gaze to the cyborg's lap. His own erection was quickly becoming obvious, but there was a definite bulge in the front of Isaac's pants too. Tentatively, he reached down and popped the buttons of the cyborg's jeans with shaking fingers. He blushed when he remembered they hadn't bothered to provide the robot with underwear, but it was too late for worrying now, and besides, Isaac wasn't trying to stop him.
He gasped when he saw it. He didn't know what Merton had been thinking when he'd drawn up his robot plans, but he couldn't find the energy to care. That was a definite erection, and it was there because of him. Trying not to think too hard about it, he wrapped one hand around its base, surprised not only by how warm it felt, but also by the fact that there was definite... throbbing. It was all beginning to feel like too much to deal with, but before he could allow himself second thoughts, Isaac turned his attention to the zip on Tommy's own trousers, working quickly to free Tommy's length. When Isaac grasped it firmly, the feel of warm skin and gentle pressure was enough to make him forget all about the insanity of what they were doing, or the fact that his best friend had been responsible for constructing the erection he was still holding. He wondered idly if touching an exact double of himself like this counted as gay sex, or just masturbation, until he felt the pressure of Isaac's grip increase a little, and all coherent thought was pushed from his mind.
He looked back at Isaac, guessing that the cyborg's slightly glazed expression probably matched his own, in much the same way that Isaac was matching the slow, determined strokes of his hand along the cyborg's shaft. Again he caught a flash of pink tongue behind Isaac's lips, and unable to resist, he leaned back in for another hard, wet kiss. He wanted to press himself flush against Isaac's solid chest, but it was difficult with both their hands still moving between them. Reaching a decision, he released his hold on Isaac's length and gently pulled the cyborg's hand away too. Before Isaac could protest, he placed both hands on the other boy's shoulders and firmly pushed him backwards, 'til he lay flat out on the carpeted floor. He nudged one leg between Isaac's, the movement bringing his aching erection into contact with the cyborg's. As Isaac once more wrapped his arms around the jock's waist, Tommy began to rock his hips, his cock sliding against Isaac's. He couldn't help but groan as they made contact, especially when Isaac began to thrust upwards, delightful pressure on his groin sending ripples of pleasure coursing through his body. He continued his assault on the cyborg's mouth, his tongue matching the thrust of his penis as he moved faster, trying to ease the delightful ache down at the base of his stomach.
Isaac somehow managed to wrap one leg around Tommy's, helping him change the angle of his hips as he continued to push hard to meet Tommy's thrusts. Already the jock could feel his groin tightening, and he wondered briefly what would happen to Isaac when he reached his own climax, or if the cyborg was even capable of reaching one. Too late to give it serious thought, his entire body tensed, then shuddered violently as he emptied himself over Isaac's stomach. He felt Isaac's body jerk and buck beneath him, his hips pushing even harder against Tommy's until his own climax subsided, and they both lay still, Tommy panting hard as he tried not to collapse on top of the cyborg.
Amazingly, he found enough strength to push himself to his knees and reach over to the nightstand for a tissue. Carefully he cleaned Isaac up as best he could, before tugging at the cyborg's shirt. Isaac shifted to allow him to pull the fabric over his head and arms, and he tossed it aside before moving again, this time to lie, utterly spent, behind Isaac. He wrapped an arm around his double's waist, holding them together, his chin resting on Isaac's shoulder.
For a while, all he could do was try and catch his breath and calm the pounding of his heart. The floor was uncomfortable, and he knew it would be a mistake to lie there much longer, but right now he couldn't muster enough energy to blink, never mind move.
"Wow," he breathed, when he decided the silence was beginning to annoy him. "Was that part of your original programming?" He knew it was a dumb thing to say, but the weirdness of what he'd just done was beginning to creep over him again, and he wanted to know if sex was a normal part of a cyborg's existence.
"It is possible that modifications have been made," Isaac rumbled, and Tommy noted that his voice had taken on that odd tinny sound again. "I do not remember."
Tommy was aware that he ought to be questioning why Merton had made such 'modifications', but he decided it could wait. Chances were, his best friend would probably want to monopolise all of Isaac's time again when the two of them eventually went back to his Lair, but for now, Isaac was his cyborg, his friend, and he was determined to get to know him better.
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