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Zetagraft number 470 was assigned to patrol the upper level of Crossroads a year ago, gather intel, and report any strange happenings back to Korblox. Much to its distress, communication between the robot and its host was severed only a few short months into its role, and Zetagraft 470 had not been able to contact its superiors ever since. Despite this setback, it continued with its routine, familiar and comforting in all the ways regulation could be to a being powered by ones and zeroes. Days passed, and it continued its work dutifully, eagerly awaiting the day a Korblox employee would turn up and reacquire it. Only, that day never came, and Zetagraft 470 became one of the thousands of Biografts who’d inexplicably blipped off of the system, never to be recovered again.
Sword and Rocket were an unusual duo. Zetagraft would see them arguing, see them on outings, see them bickering and fighting and flirting, and eventually holding hands, and it eventually became clear to it that these two inphernals had a rather bad habit of roping others into their business. Zetagraft 470 became ‘Biograft’, and later, ‘Bio’, because at some point it’d stopped caring so much about designations and manufacture dates and tiny numbers lasered beneath its plating. Somehow, what started as humorous interactions turned into invitations, turned into ‘hanging out’, turned into self-discovery. Bio didn’t know it had the capacity to think outside of its programming, and at first it didn’t particularly care about this realisation, not until the feelings came with it. Horrific, terrifying feelings.
If it were less estranged from its purpose, Bio would’ve hard system reset with the first blip of error at the edges of its vision. But with thought and feelings came an annoying, selfish stubbornness. Stubbornness to explore further. And so it did. It explored more and more until it confessed such to the two inphernals who had come to know it and give it life. Months later, Bio found itself in Rocket’s house, a shared space with his father, who was currently busy running his shop. Typically, Rocket would have surely been busying himself with gear replacements and fixes as well, but today he’d opted to invite Bio and Sword around ‘just for some change of pace’.
‘Partners’, he’d called them. Bio still couldn’t quite grasp that it counted as one. It didn’t feel real enough to be granted such a status. It shook its head, rustling those traitorous thoughts from its circuits. They always came back, but it could at the very least try.
Rocket’s room was untidy, messy, and Bio always had to stop itself for a moment before entering only because it got the urge to clean everything up as soon as possible every time it did. Rocket called it a ‘clean freak’. Sword called it ‘endearing’. There was a random, nameless film blaring in the background, just quiet enough to be background noise, yet just loud enough so that if one focused, they could pick up the plot rather quickly. They were on the floor, because Sword had always liked lounging on the beanbags better, and that way his wings wouldn’t get squished like if they all crowded onto the rocketeer’s double bed.
Bio liked the bed, because it often meant that it’d get squished between two nice, warm bodies, and it was easier for the three of them to hold each other and sleep that way. Sword had mentioned once that Bio seemed to hum like a purring cat when they were packed up there like sardines, and Rocket added that he enjoyed the small vibrations that rattled its frame when it did so. For some reason, that fact made Bio feel a little self-conscious. It refrained from even touching the object for the rest of the week, and only after brief interrogation admitted that it made it feel bad. Reassurances were made, then comparisons, like how Sword sometimes snored so loud the shelves rattled, and Rocket always hogged the covers, and suddenly Bio didn’t feel so terrible anymore.
They were good at that stuff. The feelings stuff. Rocket not so much as Sword, but he was still good at explaining them to it. It was also comforting, in a way, to know someone else who struggled like it did, though for different reasons. Sword was the glue that held the three of them together, all bright smiles and sweeping hugs and cheesy lines. Despite his naïveté, it was endearing that Sword was overwhelmingly genuine in each and every one of his actions. When he said he was going to do something, he would see it through to the end, regardless of any adversities that stood in his way. Rocket described him as the sun, burning bright hot, sometimes too scalding, but constant. Bio thought that an apt descriptor, and then went on to imagine that Rocket was the moon, complimentary in all the best ways. If that was the case, where did Bio fit within this cosmological metaphor, it wondered?
Rocket was playing something on his hand-held console, groaning and grunting along with every familiar jingle indicating his character’s defeat, donned in casual clothing reserved only for times he spent with people he trusted. His horns flashed bright blue with every stroke of anger, only to fade seconds later as he resolved himself to continue. To his side, Sword, who’d opted for his regular garb, leaned over on occasion to spy the screen in his hands, evidently intrigued. Sword didn’t have a phone, so whenever they decided to meet up, either Rocket or Bio would have to venture out to find him, which normally wasn’t so much of a big deal. On the odd day that Bio didn’t join them, the chipper red-horned inphernal would snatch Rocket’s device and bother it to no end, sending ‘miss you!’s and photos and all other sorts of adoringly cheesy lovestruck messages. As a result, Bio had lost its balance more than once in public due to a blaring pop-up notification filling the centre of its view.
Sword was deep into some story about a misadventure from the other day, Bio listening attentively opposite him. In its lap it held a pillow tightly, the one that Rocket gave it whenever he was too focused on something for cuddles. In truth, Sword probably would’ve been more than happy to hold it, but Bio still didn’t exactly know how to go about asking for something it wanted in the first place, because ‘want’ was too much of a scary thing to admit. Most physical touch was initiated by the other two inphernals, who’d already grown used to expressing care and love that way due to the fact that they’d been friends, and then in a relationship, for quite some time before Bio joined in. It also didn’t really know what it was allowed to do, or if its actions would affect the relationship negatively in some way. ‘Overthinking’, its database helpfully supplied the definition of its condition.
“Be back in a sec!” came Sword’s voice, and the inphernal swiftly planted a kiss on Rocket’s lips, who groaned angrily as the distraction caused yet another defeat on his game, and then shuffled over to plant a kiss on Bio’s forehead. Its sensors buzzed happily at the contact, fans slightly whirring in the aftermath as Sword skipped away and out of the room, the thump of his socks, because Zuka would kill him if he wore his boots inside, on the solid floor resounding down the hall.
Rocket sighed next to it, putting his game down, the beanbag he was sitting on shifting with the movement.
“He’s only going to the toilet. I dunno why he has to do that every time…,” he muttered, and it sounded a little disgruntled, but Bio could tell that there was a fondness in his words. His eyes shifted back over to the TV, but despite Sword’s exit, it didn’t feel any less warm than before.
Its mind wandered, the residual reminder of Sword’s lips on its head buzzing under its plates. ‘Kissing’ wasn’t really… something it could do. For lack of better words, it had no mouth. It possessed nearly zero resembling qualities to that of inphernals, aside from its limbs and chassis, which gave it some likeness in stature to that of the organic beings. The ribs in its chest were metal, its veins wires, and its mind code. No flesh, or what could be called ‘flesh’, made up its form, and neither did it have the gift of a heartbeat. Its life was measured by a constant thrum, bright lights and huffing vents. The only mercy awarded to this Biograft was a sense of touch through the form of sensors, but even then, could one say that it was in any way similar to an inphernal?
Was it rude to impose? Was it wrong to act as though it had any of the same capabilities Rocket and Sword possessed? What could it give back, being what it was, that could in any way amount to the intimacy that a kiss shared?
“Oi,” came Rocket’s voice again, “You’re quiet. What’s up?”
Bio jolted in place, alert. Rocket was looking at it, and the robot couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze. It attempted to formulate an excuse for its timidness, though it knew deep down that the other inphernal wouldn’t believe it for a second. If anything, Rocket would continue to push and push until the truth spilled. A moment passed, and Bio glanced away, scanning the familiar surroundings of Rocket’s bedroom, lined with trinkets and memorabilia and parts of wall that had clearly been broken in a fit of rage and been hastily covered over by posters.
“IT IS NOT FAIR,” it answered eventually with a burst of confidence, though its voice was surprisingly small. A look of stark confusion swept over Rocket’s features, and Bio found it interesting how, even etched within this expression, his beauty was still irrefutable.
“Huh? What’s not fair?” Rocket asked, eyebrow raised, and he sat up just a little straighter.
“THAT YOU GET TO KISS,” Bio answered, simply.
“Oh…,” Rocket replied, like he hadn’t before considered that it’d held any such insecurity. He appeared to think to himself for a second, then beckoned the robot over with his hand. Bio complied, shimmying over and onto the same beanbag as the blue-horned inphernal, which had just about enough space for the two of them, dropping the pillow from its lap on the way. Rocket grumbled, then nudged Bio with his prosthetic arm. There was a light buzzing feeling when the metals clinked together, one which sent a comforting shiver through Bio’s systems. It could feel the energy pulsating through the prosthetic through where they touched, and it got a sudden urge to press further against the other.
“Bio, we haven’t been making you feel left out or anything, have we?” Rocket eventually questioned, having taken some time to find the words. A hint of guilt laid between the syllables, nigh indiscernible. Bio didn’t want Rocket to feel bad.
“NEGATIVE,” it replied, tilted its head ever so slightly to the side so that their horns could tap against one another in a gesture of affection, then continued, “I AM IN CONFLICT BECAUSE I CANNOT KISS YOU.”
“Oh!” Rocket made a sound of surprise, then a puzzled, contemplative look came over his face, “Yeah, I guess… like, that makes sense.”
It was quiet again, and Bio’s lights thrummed gently against Rocket’s frame. Rocket had always been a little awkward with these things. Despite this, it’d been the rocketeer who’d been the one to rope Bio into their fun when they first met. He’d been out with Sword, and upon spotting this (rather lost) patrolling Biograft, suggested a game to the other, who’d gone a bit green in the face at the prospect of getting into trouble because of their actions. Obviously, Rocket had been keen to prove that he, on the other hand, wasn’t a ‘goodie-two-shoes loser’ and had proceeded to attempt to cajole the robot enough so that it’d blue-screen. This didn’t happen, but it certainly wasn’t the last time that these two came across the familiar machine, which grew more and more often until hints of its personality began to shine through.
Rocket seemed the most suspicious of Bio at first, disbelieving and cautious. The robot had come to understand that he was rather guarded around new people, a defence tactic from his youth. It didn’t blame him for his wariness.
“We know you care about us,” Rocket’s voice came again, clearing his throat immediately after. Bio took a second to process before responding.
“I AM NOT LIKE YOU,” it explained, “I WANT TO BE ABLE TO SHOW LOVE LIKE YOU DO.”
A small ‘ah’ of understanding came from the inphernal it was leaning into. If it were up to Bio, it would burrow so deep into his side that they could become one, and maybe then it’d feel like a real inphernal. Perhaps Rocket would even be able to understand every inch of its fondness for him. But alas, that was an impossible task. There was simply no way to express itself as much as they could. Its face was fixed in an emotionless expression, and its movements were clunky and programmed, as they always would be.
“You can kiss me now?” Rocket suggested, and Bio whipped its head around to fix him with a hard stare.
“HOW?” it questioned, confused.
“However you want! Whatever feels good!” came Rocket’s response, flippant. But how would that work? Would it be as enjoyable for Rocket as it would be for Bio? What could Bio even do to create a distinction between a ‘kiss’ and a nuzzle? A million more questions buzzed through its brain before it realised that Rocket was still looking at it, waiting. The admission of ‘want’ was a little less scary when someone else instigated, it realised, then resolved itself.
“AFFIRMATIVE,” it responded, and the inphernal seemed rather pleased with that, shifting his face just a little closer.
The air seemed hot, and Bio wasn’t sure if it had something to do with its own internals beginning to overheat, or the proximity between it and one of its partners. It turned, and in one swift move, clambered over and into Rocket’s lap, who let out a small sound of surprise. Despite the fact that Bio was taller, its weight was still rather light, owing to its necessity to function at extraordinary speeds. Either way, it worried for a moment about squishing the other, but when hands slotted against each cheek plate on its face, that thought vanished within an instant. One hand, flesh and blood, was warm, while the other, metal and screws, was cold, but let off a comforting thrum nonetheless. Bio had an urge to sink into those palms, and for a rare moment of its life, allowed itself the vulnerability.
It leaned downwards, hands planted either side of Rocket and firmly into the beanbag atop which they were sat, the lighting of its body casting a soft orange glow across the inphernal’s face as it inched closer. Its vents huffed, and with a sudden stroke of confidence, it leant the rest of the way down until its face plate met Rocket’s lips. A delighted beep fled Bio’s systems as it felt warm lips against it, tingles running through its sensors as it pressed further still against the inphernal beneath it. Rocket, whose eyes had closed, hummed contentedly as the strange, electric thrum of Bio’s lower face plates made contact with him, cradling the robot’s face as though it were one of the most precious things in the world. It didn’t know it could feel so good, so comforting, to simply press itself against another. Perhaps it couldn’t kiss in the traditional sense, but it figured that this was a strong close to what it’d have felt like if it could.
It continued to press, as though sharing a long, deep kiss, and Rocket's hands eventually wandered from its face to its shoulders, trailing its grooves and its chassis until they planted themselves on its hips. A high whir came from Bio as they settled there, which surprised the robot itself as it felt Rocket’s lips against it twist up into a victorious smile. Reluctantly, it pulled away, only to shove its face against Rocket’s cheek with embarrassment, the feeling of the inphernal’s laughter vibrating through his chest and against its metal frame, and then lowered its head even more until it settled into the crook of the other’s neck. Rocket’s hands patted it comfortingly as another high whining beep trailed from Bio’s voice module, body heating.
“Hey! Now this is just unfair!” came Sword’s voice all of a sudden, all faux heartbrokenness and false hurt. Bio didn’t need to turn around to realise that he must’ve reentered the room without it knowing not long ago, face plates still shoved against Rocket’s warm skin.
“Shoulda gotten back sooner then, idiot,” Rocket jested, sticking his tongue out at the other. Sword huffed dramatically, then Bio felt his strong hands replace Rocket’s around its waist, effortlessly lifting it up and against himself as the robot let out a surprised beep. It always forgot how strong Sword was. Yes, it didn’t weigh much, but Sword could effortlessly lift both it and Rocket if he so pleased (which he had indeed done on more than one occasion). In this instance, the red-horned inphernal’s hands felt comfortingly firm against it, making its body heat in processing its apparent attraction towards this action. Not to mention the placement of his fingers, which just skimmed the edges of some of its vents. It felt overwhelmingly, dizzyingly intimate, not that either of the two inphernals there would’ve been able to tell.
“Bioooooo, save some kisses for your other partner,” Sword whined, resting his head over the machine’s shoulder and pouting childishly. Rocket, who’d remained seated throughout this exchange, arms crossed, simply rolled his eyes at the display. Despite its earlier insecurities, Bio didn’t feel quite so bad about itself now, more troubled by its rapidly rising temperatures as Sword continued to squeeze himself against its back. His hands kneaded into its sides, and Bio let out yet another unintended whir.
“Sword, you’re embarrassing it!” Rocket complained, gesturing to the stock-still robot who was having trouble computing just about everything going on around it at present.
“No I’m not!” Sword shot back, as though offended, then returned his gaze to the machine in his arms, “Bio, am I embarrassing you?”
“YOUR FINGERS ARE TOO CLOSE TO MY VENTS,” Bio noted, squirmed a little, but Sword didn’t appear to have heard it. Or if he did, then he showed no intentions of moving either way, “YOU ARE SKILLED AT IGNORING ME.”
Rocket let out a laugh at that, picking up his game once more and continuing from where he’d left off. Meanwhile, Sword continued to beg for kisses until Bio finally relented, twisting in the inphernal’s arms until it could press its face plates gently against his lips. Sword melted within an instant, clear, intense joy radiating off of his body as he pressed back against the other. Due to their similar heights, it wasn’t so difficult to stay pressed against one another, Sword’s hands a welcome weight against its robotic body. Bio struggled to place itself for a moment, then eventually raised its own hands up like Rocket had done with it only a moment earlier, and gently cradled the inphernal’s face in them, the soft, though scarred, skin held by warm metal. Sword’s wings fluttered in excitement behind him, and for a moment Bio thought that he was going to wrap them both up in them like he sometimes did when they all hugged. Alas, it appeared the inphernal had just enough self-control to limit them to soft fidgeting, Bio beeping, pleased, in response.
When they eventually pulled away, Sword fixed it with yet another begging look, almost demanding more, and Bio was surprised by how it made its vents huff.
“You’ve set him off now. He won’t stop asking for more ‘til the end of the day,” Rocket mumbled offhandedly from his seat. Sword made a noise of indignation at that, though he couldn’t admit that his other partner was wrong, and Bio’s shoulders jostled silently as though it were struck by laughter.
“IT IS FORTUNATE I HAVE A LONG BATTERY LIFE, THEN,” it answered.