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Bros On The Road

Started by Seb DeMarco, Nov 23, 2018, 03:58 AM

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    Seb DeMarco

There were no words to describe how elated Seb felt. He and Wen were officially friends. He had an actual friend now. Gio's great and all but a frenemy is no friend. Now Seb had the chance to act like a friend and go on a road trip for love. When did he become such a romantic? Or is a shipper? It didn't matter. The point is shit is getting real.

Seb raced towards Wen's home trying to avoid any cops. If he got pulled over, he might need to blow them to get out of a speeding ticket. He'll do it for friendship. Luck was on the demi-god's side. No one seemed to be up at this late hour or if they were, they weren't here. As long as they didn't interrupt this important quest, they didn't matter anyway.

Wen's neighborhood felt a lot like a horror movie and a romantic comedy had a love child. It was eerie with barely a light inside but it felt cozy in that weird foresty way. It was the perfect place to either get murdered or have that dreamy blurry sex scene or both. Seb doesn't want to judge. He shouldn't, considering he was a fluffer for a hockey team.

Seb pulled up to Wen's cabin. Too dark. He didn't like it. The generator was going to be great for this place. But that was a solution to another problem. The current was much more pressing. Seb waited a whole three seconds before he honked his horn. He then leaned out of the window and bellowed, "Wen! Buddy! Bro! Friend! I'm here. Let's go! Road Trip! Boys' Night! Boys' Road Trip Night! Whatever we're calling it! It's happening!"

It goes without saying subtlety is not the demi-god's forte. The excitement is too much to bear. Friends! Romances! Road Trips! This is exactly how Seb imagined his life when he realized he had a friend with a romantic problem that could only be solved with a road trip. It's a dream come true.

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The tracker, the tracker. Where was the tracker? There it was. Setting aside his phone, Wen tied his long black hair back and he began to work on getting the tracker back online. Kind of a mess, living way out here and hiding from the mechanical world... yet he was still surrounded on all sides of the little cabin by parts. The tracker was a bit tricky, as he suspected it would be. It had been a long, long time since he had used it and some part of him thought it might not even work at all.

A little red dot appeared on the screen and it was... a long ways away. Not in Portland, even. Somewhere further north. Up in Seattle. He's in Seattle. What was he doing there? Maybe he'd found a new life there. His heart pounded hard as he touched the red dot, as if he could somehow feel him while he did it. No matter what he did to try and discard him, he remained in his heart. A robot. A creation of his own. It felt somehow wrong. Narcissistic? Perhaps almost incestuous. Loving a being made by his own hands, it most certainly wasn't right.

It wouldn't hurt to see what had happened to him, though. It wouldn't hurt.

HONK!

Wen's hand jerked and the tracker dropped into his lap and nearly toppled to the floor before he managed to catch it. Heart in his throat, he clutched the tracker in one hand as he rushed to the window and pulled back the gauzy curtains to see a familiar face leaning out of the window of his vehicle. Too late to turn around now. Grabbing a cloak from the chair by the front door, Wen draped it over his shoulders before leaning down and pulling on a pair of boots. Then he was out the door, carefully locking the shabby door behind him as he did so.

It felt surreal, walking out into the hazy late night fog and towards Seb. He made his way to the passenger's side and opened the door. Slipping in, he closed the door behind him and then showed Seb the tracker.

"...here it is. The tracker. It says he's somewhere in Seattle."

    Seb DeMarco

Seb had never been on a road trip before. It was actually really exciting. He wasn't even doing it for testing or getting laid. That showed some personal growth. He was going to get Wen laid though. Some hot sweaty robot action. Do robots sweat? Also, are robot penis hydraulic or retractable? Seb has so many questions. He wants to know everything. His new sensible behavior let the demi-god know he should wait after Wen's been reunited with his robot boyfriend.

Wen took his sweet time or rather Seb has a short attention span. He vibrated in place when his new friend got in the car. His smile from ear to ear, he beamed at Wen. "Seattle? That's not Portland. That's three hours of driving" Seb's words seemed judgmental but his tone was pure excitement. "Let's hit it! Seatbelts"

Seb hit the gas and with reckless abandoned drove the car towards the Emerald City. "This is so exciting," he said, "keeping destiny on course. Reuniting long lost lovers. Getting a friend some D. I'm so hopped up." Despite all the excess energy, Seb was a safe driver. Not that there were many people out at this time.

"So, what's the plan?" Seb adjusted the rearview mirror. "We find him and then what? We knock him out and kidnap him? I get you guys a hotel room? How do you see this playing out?" All of Seb's scenario ended with Wen's long locks entangled in his robot boyfriend's hand. The witch didn't take too kindly to talking about this before so he wasn't going to mention it. Just another sign of personal growth.

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Actually, Wen had never been on a road trip, either. Not one he would have defined as a road trip, anyway. There was traveling but most of it was by airline or train or bus. Wen wasn't much of a driver, truth be told. His mind was too easily fragmented and distracted by sudden and fleeting thoughts, ideas that came on so quickly that he had to get them down immediately. Driving wasn't safe for a man like that. So he was quite glad that Seb would be doing the driving, especially since they were going up north to Seattle. Or near it. Wen squinted at the tracker.

"Ah." Yes, he'd forgotten about seatbelts in all the excitement. Wen pulled his seatbelt on just before Seb hit the gas. Gripping the seatbelt like it would save him from that sudden jolt of speed from the car, his gaze darted over to Seb.

"I apologize. I thought he was in Portland. That's where... that's where I left him."

Wen watched Seb toy with the mirror, then looked out the window and slowly released his grip on the seatbelt. "We don't need to knock him out. We could just fry his motherboard. Or put a magnet near his head. That'll scramble his thoughts long enough to-- I'm not sure what we're doing, actually."

Regret was starting to edge in and they hadn't even left Hazleton yet. Maybe it wasn't too late to convince Seb to turn around...

    Seb DeMarco

There's this song about wanting to be on the road again. Seb doesn't understand it. It's the most boring thing imaginable. Driving around on some whatever road. Nature at its mightiest. What are you going to do with that? It would be on brand for Seb to expect some physical relief during the drive. There's just one problem with that. It's fucking stupid! Wanting an orgasm to die for is not an actual request. So that's not the kind of fun Seb's going to have on this road trip... most likely.

"Don't apologize," Seb scoffed, "You made a logical conclusion. It's just that if it had been further away, I would have hired us a proper ride. A limo. A bus with a stripper pole, sans strippers of course. That kind of stuff." Wen has to learn that geniuses don't apologize. They are smarter than most people can even dream to be. Wen created life from nothing and then had sex with him. In any other scenario, it would be wrong. In here it is so right. But this too would be a plot line for porn... alleged plot line.

Wen was feeling uncertain about all of this. Seb had to step in before his friend did something he'd regret later. "Nah, we don't need a plan right now. We can wing it. There's nothing wrong with a good wing. I'm partial to a sweet and spicy chicken wing but that's neither here or there."

Seb reached out his hand to give Wen a comforting pat on the head. The problem was he wasn't going to take his eyes off the road so he wasn't sure what he touched. He's pretty sure he got Wen's head at least once. "The most important thing we do know – we are getting your robot boyfriend back. The rest is unnecessary details. It's like with any kidnapping... I think. Never really kidnapped anyone. Only pretended to during a sexual roleplay."

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"What?" Wen looked over at Seb. "Sans strippers?"

Why hire a bus with a stripper pole without strippers? Not that Wen wanted strippers--quite the contrary, actually--but the idea that one would hire a bus with such a tool and then leave it unused baffled him. Why not a normal bus? Or was Seb planning to use the pole himself? Dear gods, Wen hoped he wasn't the one elected to use it because he thought Seb would be quite disappointed in the end result.

This man... He was so easily distracted. One moment he was talking about winging it--no plans--and then he was going on about chicken wings. (Which didn't help because it reminded Wen that he hadn't eaten dinner before unceremoniously deciding to go to bed that night.) Only to wake up and call Seb because it turned out that stirring up those old memories made trying to sleep alone that night pretty much impossible.

Not that he was about to admit any of that to Seb. Instead, he pulled his hair over his shoulder and fiddled with it, eyes turning toward Seb as his head was patted and then his cheek and neck. Wen shrugged the hand away before it decided to grope his chest next.

"I'm not sure this is classified as kidnapping," Wen said, disliking the connotations that went with the term. "He's technically not a person..." Which meant (sadly for said robot) that he had no real rights. What Wen wanted to know was how he moved. He frowned slightly as he turned his attention to the tracker. "I left him off, so I don't know how he ended up in Seattle. Somebody must have activated him or moved him. They might have even reprogrammed him so don't get your hopes up for a happy ending."

    Seb DeMarco

Wen's right. He's a genius after all. A stripper bus without strippers makes no sense. If Seb had his way, it would be filled with strippers. Strippers who'll do anything if you tip them enough. That would be a real party bus and something on Seb's bucket list. That's not really important now.

"I'd love a stripper bus and strippers do obviously. But you wouldn't. I doubt your idea of a good time is a guy wearing a glittery thong giggling his junk in front of your face. As a friend, I respect that," Even though was weird as hell. "So that seems like a good compromise. I'm still learning how compromising really works but I think I'm getting a hang of it," Seb grinned, still not turned his head. He's a responsible driver.

Those little comments made Seb roll his eyes. As much as Wen tried to convince the demigod, or perhaps himself, it wasn't going to work. Wen had something special there. And he was too afraid to go after it because of stupid people's stupid opinions. As a friend since a few hours ago, it's Seb duty to not let anyone ruin this miracle for a lack of a better word.

Seb took a sharp turn and shifted gears. "You are making an awful lot of assumptions when we don't know anything yet. On a good day, I'm as smart as your thumb. But even I know that you are jumping the gun. Right now, we know he is in Seattle. And that's it. Not that any of it matters. You've got a demi-god on your side. I'm half divine. This is the closest to destiny literally manifesting itself."

The demi-god blindly grabbed at Wen's hand and held it tight, "You are going to get that happy ending, Wen. Anyone trying to stop it will face my wrath. Yeah, I'm a man-whore but I'm a man-whore than can melt people's eyeballs with a touch. To be fair, I only did it once as an accident but I'm sure I can figure it out."

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No. No, glittery strippers wearing thongs thrusting in his face was hardly his idea of a good time. Wen was a simpler man than that. In some ways he was also more complicated. What couldn't be found in life could be created; he had believed that once upon a time. Now he felt... strangely guilty, as though perhaps it would be best to leave that robot boyfriend where he was and just... turn back. Yet he was here and he was unusually convinced that he could do something.

Something to bring him back? After the things Wen said and what he did? He lowered his gaze and stared at the tracker as if his life depended on it solely. And then he found himself banging up against the door and then towards Seb as the car shifted gears and a sharp turn was taken. Quickly, Wen put his free hand up against the roof to try and steady his swaying body.

As he finally lowered the hand, Seb took it. "Please don't melt anybody's eyeballs," Wen said. He couldn't imagine needing that power. Why did Seb even use it once--even if on accident?!

"You don't have to take it personally, whether this ends well or not. Really, I could just..." He trailed off and looked down at Seb's hand. "I could make a new robot, if it comes to that."

    Seb DeMarco

"OK, fine," Seb pouted like a petulant child told he can't have candy before dinner. "I won't melt anyone's eyes." How did he even do that? Maybe he turned the vitreous body into acid. No, that would just corrode through the skull into their brain. Now that's a fun idea. And it wouldn't technically be melting. Maybe he can go with that... on a technicality.

Seb listened to his new friend and he wasn't surprised by any of it. The self-doubt was part of Wen's personality. He can't go along with this slightly absurd but romantic plan. The surprising part was that Wen was still holding his hand. The last time they made physical contact Seb drugged the guy. That's not going to happen this time but still. Only when the have Boys' Night. Seb's not sure what that is but apparently, it's a thing.

Not that it was important. Making a new robot? What? "Fuck that," Seb snapped. "If you wanted a new robot, you would have made one already. You know he's not that easily replaceable. Otherwise, you wouldn't be having any of these problems. Besides, even if you could, I don't think you're the kind of person to replaces someone you love."

"At least I think you aren't," Seb spoke with hesitation. He wasn't sure. He knew how to tell if guys wanted him or not. That was the extent. That was his safe space. This. Reading people. It wasn't as easy as it seems. But Seb knew himself. "If making emotional connections with people is as hard for you as it is for me, then I know you can't replace him. I can't replace you. I could get a new friend – someone who's not going to be as awesome as you – but it wouldn't be you. So that's not happening."

"We might have to stop at a hardware store. Get some rope and a sledgehammer, just in case we need to restrain him," Seb took both a metaphorical turn and a literal one at the same time. "Also, you're hungry." Seb could tell through their contact. It would be cooler if he could read thoughts like that... but he can't. "You want to stop somewhere? I have a credit card."

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Wen swung his gaze in Seb's direction. How could he be so nonchalant about melting eyeballs? What exactly had he gotten himself into? If Seb got mad at him and decided they weren't friends anymore, would he be capricious enough to just turn on him and do something like that to him? Somehow, it didn't worry Wen that much. Lately, his regard for his own life had been substantially lowered. It could have something to do with his epiphany about that robot boyfriend Seb was interested in. It could. Or. No, it did.

Wen lowered his head and fiddled with the end of his ponytail while Seb called him out.

"But I do abandon them," he said quietly. That had already been established. While there hadn't been a replacement, it didn't mean anything. Maybe Wen just hadn't met the perfect replacement. Heh. As if he would when he created him with his own two hands. That came with its own set of problems, however. They hadn't discussed those problems yet, though. Wen thought Seb would see those for himself when he saw the robot for himself.

He looked up, somewhat surprised at the sudden change of topic. How? How did he know? There was no use asking. He already knew. Seb already told him when they met. Wen looked out at the road ahead and considered if. He wasn't a robot; he required sustenance to keep going and to remain healthy. Besides, Seb was paying... probably with one of those millions of cards he apparently had.

"As long as you don't buy 400 hamburgers, I think we can stop to eat."

    Seb DeMarco

Even when Wen is making progress, he starts making excuses. Lucky for him, he had a friend like Seb who was going to winnow it out of him. Even if it hurt. No, not really. The demigod needed to develop a more delicate touch. He wasn't used to this. Even in bed, it was never about the soft and gentle approach. Unless there were two or more guys there. But that's beside the point.

"Abandon them, you say?" Seb drawled. "But you had your reason. I'm sure it's not as bad as my mother's. She saw that all of her children had become monsters because she wasn't there." The way Seb spoke, it was as if he wasn't even talking about basically being an orphan. It was just another conversation. It was more about Wen than Seb. If there ever was a time this caused pain, it wasn't now. The demigod has a distraction.

Seb laughed at the suggestion. He wasn't thinking it but maybe... he could have them delivered to Gio's house. Give his frenemy a nice wakeup call. "I guess we are going for quality over quantity."

Not long after, they approached a diner by the road. "This looks like a good place to stop. I've always wanted to eat in a place like this. Like in a movie... or a TV show about brothers hunting supernatural creatures."

Large neon lights decorated the side. They spelled out Laila's Diner in a classic 60s font – smooth lines and nice curves. Seb parked next to a pickup which stood there along with a truck. Inside was just as Seb had imagined – classic checkerboard patterns, red leather seats and a jukebox playing oldies. The truck driver was sitting by the counter, sipping his coffee. Another guy, the owner of the pickup, was in the booth nearest the door. He had a plate of fries in front of him and a paper in his hand.

Seb waltz near the back to one of the empty booth. He sat down and as soon as Wen had too, the waitress showed up. She was a mature woman in her late 40s. Despite the late or early hour, she was quite cheery. "Welcome to Laila's Diner. I'm Wendy. What can I get you?" she said as she passed the menus to the pair.

"OK – how about some coffee, a double cheeseburger, some fries, and apple pie. With ice cream," Seb ordered. He had barely looked at the menu, but all diners had the same stuff. But they were close enough to Portland so there might be some sushi on the menu.

"Wen?" Seb turned to his friend. He was the one who was hungry after all.

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"Hm." He looked away, out the window. Abandonment might be a sore topic for Seb. The mention of his mother was pretty off-handed but Wen couldn't imagine being left by a mother and not feeling something about it. Anger, hurt. Worst of it, Wen could actually commiserate, since he had been abandoned, too. It was different, though--abandoning a robot versus a child. Was it not? Wen programmed the robots. He was the one who created them and gave them their directives. But he supposed in some twisted way, it wasn't all that different.

No. No, it was! It was because Wen could wipe the memories from the robot. They could start over in a new life without the thought of what happened in their past haunting them. The inner monologue alone was exhausting him. Wen passed a hand over his eyes and watched as the car pulled up to a lonely diner. He raised his brows at the choice and looked over at Sea. He seemed pretty amused by it.

They passed a man and took a seat near the back. Wen hesitantly took the menu from the happy-go-lucky woman serving them, though he barely glanced at it. Diner food. Seb talked as if he'd never eaten in a place like this but he knew exactly what they had. Interesting. Maybe it was because he wasn't human. Wen knew these places didn't seem to vary much in the menu department but he was more a bowl of rice with a side of some kind of vegetable or meat type of guy.

"I'll just have what he's having," Wen said. "But I'll take raspberry lemonade instead of coffee."

He handed the menu back. No point in looking. Even Seb knew there wasn't a variety and Wen wasn't interested in the different "house" burgers they sold. Once the menu was taken and the waitress left with their orders, Wen stared at Seb for a moment. Then, rather than ask what was on his mind, he asked, "Have you ever used a jukebox?"

    Seb DeMarco

Diners are such a strange part of the American lifestyle. Seb had seen them in so many TV shows and movies. It leaves an impression. But actually going to one is such a different experience. The scent of fried food in the air. Stale coffee. Apple pie. Cherry pie. His family should have marketed this a long time ago. If there's room for bacon flavored lube, there's room for a diner perfume or something. At least a stink grenade.

All that aside, this was surprisingly nice. This friendship thing. Being frenemies with Gio was one thing. But his friendship with Wen was much different. He was compelled to help even though he had no idea what he was doing. Seb's experience with people was limited to the corrupt world of his family. Every action had a price and they had more than enough money to afford it.

This was different. It wasn't like Seb could just buy a replacement. Wen insists he can build one but that's not a solution. It's a strangely familiar one though. Everyone is replaceable. Yet feelings aren't that simple. So Seb was learning. And Wen too in a manner of speaking. This is turning out to be a strange but suitable bonding opportunity.

"We are going to be so much better at this with a full stomach," Seb commented after Wen had ordered. "Unless we have to run. That might be a problem." Seb was quite sure he could go head to head with a robot. Doing it on a full stomach might not be a hoot. That's the price you have to pay for some good apple pie.

Seb looked at the jukebox in the corner. He pondered, trying to find an answer to Wen's question. "Nope, I don't think so. We had one at home but it was for decoration. I wasn't allowed to touch it."

The demigod looked back at his friend and grinned, "But it's fun. It's one thing picking a song from a playlist. It's easy. Not much effort. But that thing over there is an experience. You see how it works. Yet there's the mystery of those records. The sound trapped in them lured out with a needle. How does that even happen? Don't tell me! Let it be that. A mystery. Sometimes that's a good thing."

Quick as a flash, the food arrived. "Thank you," Seb told the waitress. He wasn't usually this nice. This situation was bringing it out of him.

Between bites, Seb turned the tables on Wen, "What about you? Ever dismantled one of those things for fun? I can totally see you doing that." What he actually wanted to know was if Wen had used it to give his robot boyfriend some rhythm but he was actively trying to keep things clean.

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"Ah... what?" Wen asked, somewhat taken aback by the revelation that Seb once had a jukebox in his home. When one thought of jukeboxes, they thought of dated diners (much like this one) and old shake shacks from the 50s. They certainly didn't think of them as home accessories. What a strange home Seb must have grown up in. Then again, Wen wasn't one to say much. Perhaps he hadn't been raised strange but he had certainly gone onto that bend at some point in his life, to be going on a road trip with a stranger to seek out a robot ex-boyfriend.

He probably won't even remember me. Sometimes he wondered why he shared that information with Seb. If he hadn't, he wouldn't be here now. The real question was, was that preferable? Or did he want to be home alone tinkering on the next machine? Maybe a new boyfriend. Somebody else.

Glancing over at the jukebox, Wen opened his mouth to earnestly tell Seb exactly how it all worked but closed it after Seb decided he would rather stick with the mystery. Wen sighed and shook his head, looking down at his food instead. Seb liked the mystery, he said. But Wen hated it. That was why he dismantled things to get a good look inside and that was exactly why he didn't get along with people. He couldn't take them apart the same way. He couldn't open them up and see what made them tick, what made them say what they said. People were dangerous. More dangerous than any machine.

"I doubt there's anything mechanical I haven't taken a look at," he said after some thought. "Jukeboxes are simple. They were invented a long time ago, you know, so they don't take a lot of complicated parts or programming the way something like a cellphone does these days."

    Seb DeMarco

"It belonged to some famous musician. My half-brother bought it as an investment," Seb added. He never thought it was weird. Wen seemed confused though. Status was important to his family. His siblings have different ways of showing it. Some are collectors, some philanthropist, some investors. A jukebox was a stable Americana collectible. Add a famous previous owner. It made sense. "It was a conversation piece."

Seb hummed after taking a bite of that pie, followed by some fries. He didn't care about the proper order. He didn't see a point in denying himself all these good things. "This is so good. I'm glad we stopped, Wen. It's part of the road trip experience... I think. It feels like it. Following the impulse or in this case your impulses to food and a boyfriend."

The demigod chuckled at the idea and then sipped his coffee. For the short time he had known Wen, he wasn't what you'd call impulsive, controlled by simple desires. Yet those were the driving forces of this trip. They wouldn't have this power if it hadn't been for Seb's imputes but that's beside the point. He's just a passenger in the adventure of his friend.

"True," Seb nodded. "But isn't that subjective? I mean complexity. If that thing broke," he pointed at the jukebox, "you'd fix it in a flash. But I'd be stumped as would most people, I suspect. I can tell you the chemical commands released into your brain when you're sad or happy. But would it make sense to you? Probably not unless you learn about it."

"Just because we don't understand something doesn't mean it's impossible. It's just something to strive towards – a new goal. That's how I look at this whole experience with you. I know fuck all about friendship but I'm a quick study. I'll figure it out and make it work."

Seb stopped and looked at Wen. "That was too philosophical, right? I'm going to eat this burger and stop talking. Once I get some meat in my mouth I'll be back to my old charming/annoying self."

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