Work Text:
“ROVIX model 6.20: test 4.” Taekwoon jots down on his notepad. He looks up briefly, sees the cold black of the powered down robot starring at him from where it’s sat upright on the workbench. He’d worked in the android business for years now but this was his first project so… self indulgent. He toggles a series of switches and buttons along the side of the robot’s abdomen, and its eyes flash to life, if you could call it that. They shine bright white, reflecting off the blue paint of its body.
Taekwoon squints, looking the robot over, moving its limbs up and down to make sure they stay in place. “Power up stable.” he writes. He takes a deep breath, working his thumbs under the elastic of his sweatpants and pulling them down and off. He stands, alone, in his lab in nothing but a dirty tank top and some briefs. Alone, that’s why he was doing this.
His eyes wander down, over the robot’s hand made chest, mimicking pecs of a man much more built than Taekwoon himself. And down even more, to the robot’s crotch, blue of its body turning to the plain silver of the metal at its waist. “Don’t make a blue dick.” had been one of Taekwoon’s earlier notes. He sets his notepad down on the table and takes the robot’s cock into his hand, stroking it for no reason other than to feel someone else in his grasp. It’s already hard, it could be nothing but hard being made of steel. The feeling, the false intimacy, makes his own cock jump in his briefs. He takes his hand away, picking his notepad back up and writing “Cold- look into heating?” before placing it down again.
He puts one hand on each of the robot’s thighs, spreading them so he can fit between them, and drops to his knees. He takes the cock back in his hand, making its metal joints give as he angles it toward his mouth. First he just licks it, experimentally, it tastes bad, like metal, but the correlation to an actual person is there. Opening his mouth more, he takes the robot deeper into his mouth. He can feel himself growing harder in his underwear, and moans around the metal. His hands feel around for a small button on the inside of the robot’s thigh, and when he presses it a small pump of white lubricant falls from the tip of the false cock into his mouth. He grabs for his pen on the table and scribbles without looking “Fluid system stable.” His messy handwriting probably looks even worse when he’s too stubborn to take a cock out of his mouth.
He takes the robot’s hand, lying limp beside it on the workbench, and guides it to his own head. He imagines it’s someone else, someone real and strong, helping him take his cock. “That’s it baby,” he’d say, and Taekwoon feels the front of his briefs wet with precum at the thought.
His mouth slides off the robot’s dick, sticky with fake cum. “Grip,” he orders, too soft and breathy to be picked up by the robot’s microphone. “Grip,” he repeats, louder, and the metal fingers tighten in his hair, drawing a long whine from his mouth. He reattaches his mouth to the side of the cock, panting heavily against it. His hips rut involuntarily. He presses the button again, and thick liquid leaks onto his cheek. Then he takes the robot back into his mouth, all at once, and God why did he build this thing so big. He wants to take a note on that, but other things are too important. His breathing is heavy through his nose and his eyes shut. One of his hands moves down to his own crotch, rubbing through his briefs slowly and deliberately. Once he gets settled he bobs his head a couple times, taking it to the base every time. He imagines someone praising him for that, and his breath hitches. It becomes too much, he has to take his mouth off the robot to catch his breath, lips against the base as he breathes heavily. He gives one last squeeze to his cock and stands up.
“Scooch,” he orders, the robot does nothing, right. He grabs his notepad, “Add more movement commands.” he writes. Taking matters into his own hands, he pushes the robot to the side of the workbench, making room for him to climb up and sit next to it. He angles the robot’s face toward him, and kisses it on where a mouth would be. It’s unsatisfying, the robot has no lips. “Build lips?” he writes down, which he immediately crosses out and writes “No, creepy” next to.
He guides the robot until it’s laying down on the workbench, knees up and Taekwoon in between them. It’s too flat, the robot looks like a dead man. “Sit up,” Taekwoon says, and the robot leans forward, facing him and staying up by the strength of its core servos alone. He moves to take off his briefs, and drops them on the floor next to the workbench, before grabbing his notepad and resting it on the robot’s torso. He kneels in between the robot’s thighs again, pressing the button again to get enough fluid to heftily cover its cock in. He lets some of it pump out onto his fingers, and reaches around behind himself to prod at his hole. He gasps when he pushes the first finger in, and bites his lip. Soon he adds another, covered in the white sticky lube it goes in easily enough. But it’s a big difference that has Taekwoon doubling over and having to stabilize himself on the robot’s knee, trying to hold back his moans even though no one else is in the lab.
When he decides he’s had enough of playing with his fingers, he climbs over to straddle the robot’s waist, its cock sticky against the back of Taekwoon’s ass. He picks up the notepad, writing “Weight test positive: core able to support at least 63 kg” and setting it back down. Finally, he reaches back to take the metal cock in his hand and lowers himself onto it, carefully. He hisses at first, but it turns into a strangled groan as he sinks down to the base. He rolls his hips onto it gently, still getting used to the size. Then he begins to really move, hands supporting himself on the robot’s chest as he fucks himself onto it. All attempts at suppressing his whines are futile at this point, as he moans high pitched and breathy, echoing through the empty lab. His cock is hard and wet, leaking all over the cold metal of the robot’s abdomen. He makes an attempt to grab his pen, dropping it once in the process, and messily writes “Double check waterproofing.”
He gets an idea, and takes one of the robot’s hands, guiding it to his own dick. “G- ah” he gasps “Grip,” he orders, and the robot takes a tight hold on his cock. Taekwoon cries out, head falling down between his shoulders, soft bangs covering his face. “Ah- fuck, fuck,” he whines as he thrusts into the robot’s hand. The robot, however, takes this as an order, and its hip servos kick into gear as it starts fucking up into Taekwoon. “Shit, oops” he thinks, and fumbles to pick up his notepad and pen. He begins to write “Change ‘fuck’ vocal comman-” when suddenly one of the robot’s thrusts hits him just right. He lets out a loud moan, his back arches and he drops his pen and notepad. The notepad lands back on the robot’s torso but the pen tumbles to the floor, landing with a loud clack .
Taekwoon is whining even louder now with the combination of the hand on his dick and the cock in his ass, fucking into him methodically, mechanically. He imagines someone real again, he pushes his bangs aside with his own hand but pretends it’s someone else’s, someone who would say “You’re so good baby, you take me so well.” He whimpers at the thought, pink cock growing even wetter between the robot’s fingers. He takes the robot’s other hand, and needing something to muffle his whines with, takes one of its large metal fingers into his mouth. While it helped with absorbing the noise it did not help keep his arousal under control. He flattens his tongue against it, licking and sucking it like it’s a thing to do.
It’s all so much, he breathes heavy around the finger in his mouth, his tongue loose and he probably looks so wrecked but he just doesn’t care. He’s close, and his free hand comes to the hand on his cock, guiding it up and down so he can finish himself off. He matches the robot’s thrusts into him, working out his already toned thighs, and he’s so ready to cum, he needs to, but the robot has too tight of a grip on him. What’s worse is he’s forgotten the command to let go. “Ah- let me, please, ah, please,” he whines, trying to reason with something that doesn’t have a brain. “I need to, please.” And although there’s no one there to hear it, the humiliation of begging just turns him on even more. He wishes for someone real again, someone telling him how wrecked he looks, how pretty he sounds when he begs. He needs release so bad, and something clicks in his head. “Release, release!” he cries, and the robot relaxes its hand on command.
Taekwoon feels the tightness and heat, below his abdomen, and he’s cumming. It spills over the robot’s hand, still close to his cock but no longer touching, and over its chest, where his notepad is still resting. The robot is still thrusting into him, making him whine in overstimulation. His arms give out, and he’s collapsing onto the robot’s chest, his own chest getting sticky. “Stop,” he finally commands, and the robot returns back to lifeless stillness. He lifts himself back up, and off of the robot’s dick. He looks down at his notepad, his pen scribblings are runny and blurred from the mess of cum that got on it, and he sighs.
“Guess I’ll have to do another test,”
he thinks.