We Are Bulletproof

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.

Trash Bat

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 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.

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...

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."

"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."

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."

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."

"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."

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."

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.

"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?"

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.

"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."

"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."

A... conversation piece? He supposed that's what a jukebox would do in a rich person's home. Wen wondered silently if they ever even tried to use it. Seb claimed that he wasn't allowed to touch it and that it was used for decoration. A conversation piece--again, what a strange thing to have for such a thing. Wen thought of such things as having a use and a jukebox had a very specific use. Not to be touched... What a shame. It wasn't even be used for its purpose.

It was probably even stranger that Wen felt sympathy for an inanimate object. Then again, he'd dated one, hadn't he? To most people, a robot boyfriend was nothing but a fancy toaster.

Wen raised his brows but didn't argue--stopping in a little greasy spoon like this was a part of the road trip experience. He still couldn't believe he was even on a road trip. Wen was more accustomed to spending all of his time alone in his hidden forest home, where he could work in peace and quiet.

"I suppose it's a matter of perspective, yes." One man's complexity was another man's simplicity. Wen sighed and looked down at his food. Getting philosophical hadn't been part of the plan. Really, Wen spent far too much time debating things like this in his head and he wasn't sure if having somebody to argue with was a good thing or a bad thing. It flexed the brain, it was true. But it also disquieted him.

"I don't know anything about friendship, either." What a pair. Off on a buddy road trip and they weren't even friends. Or was this supposed to be friendship happening right now? Wen frowned slightly. "And you might want to steer clear of saying things like that."

The diner's food was filing up Seb's stomach. Soon the nutrients will be released into his system and he'll get a boost of energy. Not that he really needed it. He didn't have to drag Wen around. But he might have to drag that robot boyfriend. He was pretty sure there wasn't going to be a fight. He was ready for it. For the sake of love. Wen's and the robot boyfriend's that is.

Seb hummed at Wen's comment. They were on the same page about friendship. Awesome! "You know, that means no one can tell us if we do something wrong. We'll go with it and make it fit what we want. It's perfect. You're legitimately smart. I'm theoretically smart. We can't go that wrong, right?" That being said, they were on their way to Seattle to find a long-lost robot whose memories had been whipped and they had done no preparations. They didn't even have a van. Then again, that's a friendship thing. That's a kidnapping thing. A whole different field.

That second comment was confusing. Seb thought about it for a second. Then the usual sleaziness that he'd been repressing for Wen's sake kicked back in. "Oh," he exclaimed. "Dicks. Don't worry. I won't do anything like that around you... probably. I know you're uncomfortable with all that stuff. Also, not that you need to know, I'm not charming when I do that. More like your average man whore."

"Oh, side note, does your boyfriend have anything he likes to eat that we can take with us from here? Maybe it'll jog his memories." Seb didn't know much about robotics but Wen had to have built his man a mouth. For kissing stuff. And other mouth stuff. Mouths can do a lot of awesome stuff besides eating. As promised, Seb was being respectful and not mentioning them or presenting a list in vivid detail. He was ready to go if Wen asked. There might also be a PowerPoint presentation. And video material – both from Seb's personal collection and professional work. One can never be too prepared to educate the power of oral.

"...you're not charming when you...?" Wen furrowed his brow slightly. What... what did that even mean? That he didn't charm people into... having sex with him? That he wasn't traditionally charming because he was... having sex? Nobody in their right mind would think a man having sex in front of them was "charming." The wording threw Wen off. Magic? Not magic? Charisma? Something more? Should he be worried?

No. No. He'd know if he was being charmed. Besides, he had a feeling it wouldn't quite work on him. Wen's level of emotions were not the same as the typical man's. Hence... the robot lover. Hence... not feeling a sense of belonging in the world or the people around. Hence... being alone.

But even those who didn't want people around needed something. Some kind of company. Some kind of... companionship.

Taken aback by the question presented, Wen fell silent, idly moving a fork in circles. Of course, his companion had a mouth. A very realistic mouth. A soft mouth. A warm mouth. Wen's eyes half closed at the memory. To build an efficient machine, he had made it so that food was not technically required by the android but it could still eat and expel as if it were human, in cases where it was necessary. In cases where somebody might suspect. Wen did not do things in halves.

"He didn't like sweets," he said in that far off tone that indicated he was lost in a memory. "At first, he had no real preferences at all. Then it was for texture rather than taste. The crunch of a bagel chip. The gumminess of dried fruit..." Wen looked up, at the counter, the pies. Then back at their table. A rueful smile. "Nothing we'll find here."

"Not to put a too fine a point on it but I look like a real slut," Seb grinned, way too proud of himself. Once you've been called every slur in the book by your own family, those words lose their power. And at the same time, it's accurate. Seb spends too much time trying to get into guys' pants... and succeeding most of the time. "Before anything happens I'm charming if I need to be. Depends on the guy. Some just want to get to it without play-acting out feelings and stuff. But we're not going to talk about that as a considerate friend."

It was so hard not talking about sex. Not that Seb had no other things to talk about. It's just his favorite topic and activity and general lifestyle. But friendship requires some sacrifices... maybe. He wasn't sure, but it seemed like it. In any case, he has an extensive back catalog to share in the future should the topic interest Wen.

Besides, the information Wen revealed was a suitable replacement. "Interesting that a robot has a preference, right?" Funny how Seb's new friend seemed to miss all those little signs of life that his boyfriend exhibited. "There's nothing here but maybe there's something else?"

Before Wen could respond, Seb jumped up and proclaimed, "Think about it. I'll go pay." A quick transaction later (and 100-dollar tip because it wasn't Seb's money), he was back. "We can go whenever you want. And when we get to Seattle, we can get anything that might help jog your robot boyfriend's memory/help us in the kidnapping. Or property retrieval if you still think he's not really alive."

Wen raised a brow. All right. So they weren't going to discuss the charming thing. Wen was silent before he nodded and watched Seb go pay the bill. He should have insisted on paying something--at least for his own food--but if he was to be believed, Seb hardly needed the help. Letting out a sigh and pulling his hair back from his face, Wen stared down at the table.

Think about it? About what? The robot's preferences? Did that make him more human in Seb's eyes? Wen supposed that developing such things as preferences did indicate that something had changed within the robot. Perhaps... a ghost in the machine? A real ghost? Wen hadn't purposely anchored a soul into the robotic body but he might have done it on accident. He settled his chin in his hand, perturbed by the thought.

So maybe Seb was right. He slid his gaze up to him. Maybe it wasn't just property retrieval. He flicked his gaze back downward.

"He liked music," he said slowly as he got up. "Not the kind you'd find in that machine," he said with a nod toward the jukebox. "But the music I played in my studio when it was... when it was just the two of us."

This road trip of friendship was a strange one so Seb embraced all the familiar elements. Buying stuff for one. And kidnapping as another. Those were not far off from the demigod's usual family activities. He's glad he doesn't have to worry about finding tied up people in closets and wondering if they are part of a sex game or a victim of a crime. Contrary to popular belief, not always the same thing.

Back at the table, Seb got to experience one of these new things – seeing a friend contemplate his life choices. "Yeah, I get – mood music." Seb didn't get it. It probably wasn't the same thing he used his playlist for. A rhythm guide for his 'guests'. "I have one of those premium steaming accounts. Can you find it on there? Or do we need to scour some special shops for it?"

The demigod nodded his head towards the car, a signal for them to leave. It was still night but it wasn't going to stay that way forever. If they were going to have to kidnap Wen's robot boyfriend, it was better to do it in the dark. There was a lot more at stake here than just Seb's strange ego. He's been making his way around this new world of personal relationships, all unfamiliar experiences. The simple life of buying your way to your goals was no longer an option.

On top of all that, Seb had started to care. He didn't enjoy it but he enjoyed Wen. He liked the man. He liked that he was so not like the demigod. He wanted this to succeed. A part of Seb tried to rationalize it. It was all just another experiment. That didn't change the fact that he was not going to get anything out of this other than seeing Wen happy. There was no puzzle piece to add to the picture so he could figure out the extent of his powers. It was about friendship. That's all.

And Seb was fine with that.

"I tended to listen to traditional Chinese music when I was working," he said as he slipped into his seat in the vehicle. But he placed a hand over his mouth and looked downward as he contemplated sharing the rest. All of this was rather new to the robotics enthusiast. One might even compare him to his creations. Or even say that he was more robotic than those that he created. Perhaps that was part of the reason he so readily ended up falling for one. Slowly, his other hand slid over the pocket that held the tracker, a warm machine under his palm. He was really doing this. He closed his eyes briefly.

"I also listened to..." Wen opened his eyes and looked over at Seb, forcing himself to pull his hand down and away from his mouth even though he half felt like smiling. A rare moment for Wen! But he felt strangely... euphoric in the moment, sharing a guilty pleasure with somebody--anybody. Even a virtual stranger. "Pop music. And... EDM."

He pulled out the tracker to check their progress. His heart started to beat faster.

"We're almost there."

Seb nodded, not really surprised by Wen's musical choice. The man has that air about him. He's a costume change away from a Chinese period drama. No judgment. It's a look. Not everyone can pull it off. Wen would look good in some period garb. Really sexy.

Seb won't say that out loud. He's learning how open he should be. It hurts to keep all that innuendo inside but once you get used it, it's really good... until it starts mixing into metaphors and making it a mess. Anyway, Seb won't ask to watch Wen and his robot boyfriend in action. Or a threesome. Even though he really wants to.

The demigod wasn't expiring that. "Nice," he chuckled. Wen didn't seem like the type. Then again, it's sweet in its own way. It doesn't seem like Wen has much joy in his life. If he found it in pop, Seb wasn't going to judge. "I have a playlist or two of that. Some guys need a rhythm guide if you know what I mean." So much for not talking about dirty stuff.

On to more important things. Seb found a place to park not far from the target. "OK," he said. "As much as I'd love to turn this into a kidnapping road trip, it doesn't seem like the best idea. You should talk to him first. He might remember you and we won't have to do anything extreme." He shut off the engine and let the quiet overtake the moment. Or as much quiet they got around the traffic. "I'll stay back but if you need me, yell Spatchcock! and I'll take him down. That sounds like a plan, right?"

"A rhythm guide?" Wen asked, actually curious. Was this about dancing or was he referencing painting? No, no. Wen frowned slightly and brushed fingertips over his chin. The way Seb said it, that look in his eyes... it made it sound like perhaps there was more to it than that. What else required rhythm? Wen didn't give it much more thought; it must have been his imagination that it meant anything more. Or it could have been the way Seb said it like it meant something else. Some kind of innuendo. A man like Seb was exhausting for somebody like Wen. They were on such different wavelengths.

As the car came to a stop, Wen suddenly found that his inner calm was giving way to nerves. This was it. The tracker said he was there, in this neighborhood. He was in one of those houses. Near. Did he know he was here? Of course he didn't. He couldn't. Could he? Wen felt like he was trying to breathe underwater and for a moment, he had to lower his head, one hand on the door handle, as if he were preparing to run from... whatever was locked up inside of him.

"Right," he said to Seb, much softer than intended. He didn't even argue about the safe word (or whatever that spatchcock business was). Not something he wanted to be caught shouting aloud for all to hear. Good lord. His hands were itchy. Sweating. His mouth was dry.

"Right," he repeated, licking his lips and finally opening the car door so he could slide out. This was the sole reason he'd come out on this little road trip. He couldn't back down and head home now. For a moment, he looked back at Seb, as if he could help him but this was really all up to Wen and he knew it. Taking in another breath, he closed the door with a gentle click and then he started up the street, following the tracker to an innocent looking enough brick house with ivy crawling up a trellis and two cars parked out front. Up the driveway, there was a small wooden gate. When Wen opened it, it creaked and from inside the house, he could hear the telltale sound of a dog barking.

Oh, he wanted so badly to leave but he refused to look over at Seb and he refused to stare at the ground. He squared his shoulders back and came up to the front door. Another deep breath. And then he knocked.

Phweeeeeeeee!

The sharp whistle of water boiling in the kettle awakened Aki from a strange dream. He jerked up to a sitting position on his friend's couch and rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes. What time was it, even? Who was boiling water at this hour? Before Aki could swing his legs onto the cheap carpet and get up to turn the gas off--mostly to shut the kettle up--his friend yelled from the kitchen that he 'got it.'

Aki sank back down and rolled himself up in his blanket, peering wearily out of the gap in the window curtains. He couldn't tell by that narrow strip of light whether it was beginning to get light or beginning to get dark. Either way, it was an awkward time to be sleeping. Yawning, he was about to roll over and go back to sleep to revisit his strange dream when there came a knock at the door. Trevor, the neighbor's retriever, started barking too, as if helpfully reminding them that there was a stranger at the gate.

"Hey can you get that?" Caleb shouted from the kitchen. "Hands kinda full right now!"

"Okay, okay." Geez. And after he'd laid down too! Aki got up again and lurched to his feet unsteadily. He made his way to the front door (which was literally ten steps, since he was crashing on the couch in the living area) and opened it. "Ugh." Light streamed in and blinded him momentarily, overloading his senses. He put up a hand to shield his eyes as he tried to make out who was at the door. Nobody he recognized.

"Caleb! It's for you!" Aki had one eye shut against the light as he lowered his hand, but he was beginning to see more clearly. There was a strange car parked outside too, he noticed. "He'll be out in a sec," he said to the long-haired stranger, keeping a hand on the door.

What Wen neglected to mention to his new friend was that his robots, despite everything Wen claimed, were not just robots. There was something special about his robots. Although he created the body for them, there were spirits anchored within the whirring gears and silicone. Somehow, it seemed like the spirit of this particular creation had strengthened in its time away from Wen. Nobody could tell at a glance that he was a machine. It almost made Wen question himself as he stared at him in abject silence.

After a moment, he reached out and took hold of the man's wrist, turning it over to see that the number he'd inked on his inner wrist was still there. 009.H it read. No doubt about it. Wen felt a strange surge of emotion upon seeing him before him, with the same serial number and the same face. And that perplexed expression. Of course. His memory had been wiped. Perhaps a part of Wen had hoped that some of the old memories remained, having not been overwritten yet. That was how computer memory worked, after all. It wasn't truly gone until it was overwritten.

"I'm not here to see Caleb."

"Huh?" Aki was taken aback when the stranger grabbed his wrist. Before he had a chance to react, it was turned over to the tattoo on the inside of his wrist--something Aki didn't remember getting, but attributed to one of those drunken nights where it seemed like a good idea at the time to get a meaningless tattoo. He pulled his wrist back after the stranger seemed done looking at it, letting out a soft, confused laugh.

"Uh.... I see. Well nobody else lives here, unless Caleb's been keeping someone locked up in the basement."

Maybe the guy was lost. Caleb lived alone--a perfect friend for couch-surfing when Aki needed a place to lay his head. He turned when he heard footsteps shuffling up; Caleb appeared with a mug of steaming tea, sipping it gingerly. He smiled the smile one reserved for strangers--politely puzzled, mildly inquisitive.

"Hi. Can I help you?"

"No."

Wen barely even gave the other man a glance. He didn't matter; he wasn't the reason that Wen was here. His focus was solely on the man before him. No, the robot. How did he not know? Did he believe he was human? If he had been taken care of, the one called Caleb must know. Or whomever had found him first. What was his life like after Wen dumped him? There wasn't even the slightest spark of recognition in his gaze when he looked at Wen. It was as if he had really erased him.

No. No! That's not how data works. Whatever was there could still be found. As long as it hadn't yet been overwritten, it was there, like the ghost of the data, waiting to be overwritten. It gave the false impression that data was deleted when one looked at it--when laymen looked at it. But a skilled hacker or computer technician would know where to look to resurrect those old files. Wen could do it.

Did he want to?

He couldn't tell. There was an ugly ache in his chest. He could step back, let them close the door in his face, and he would be nothing but a curious oddity of the night. It would be an odd memory to tell friends about and then it would fade away. Wasn't this for the best? It was for the best. Why did he let Seb talk him into this?

Wen did step back then.

"Wrong house," he mumbled before turning around. Wrong time, wrong people, wrong place. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Oookay," Caleb said as the door swung shut gently, raising his brows. "That was... different."

For a long moment, Aki didn't speak. He was staring at the door, frowning, as though he could see through it to the outside, where the stranger with the long hair was undoubtedly walking away and out of sight. Something was trying to connect inside his mind, a name to the face. A place. A time, a different time that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Yeah," he said at last, massaging a temple. There was a weird throbbing there, not entirely like a headache. As he moved back towards the couch, Caleb said something that didn't fully register. Aki shook his head like a wet dog. "What?"

"I said, he was pretty good-looking. But not your type, right?" Caleb was grinning at him, making light of the mistake that the stranger made. To him, it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone to have the wrong house. But to Aki, it felt like something significant had happened, and he just... couldn't figure out what.

Wryly, though, he smiled and shrugged. "Yeah. Not my type."

Oh, he wanted to run, he wanted to hide. He wanted to pretend none of this ever happened. Shame warmed his face and paralyzed his tongue. The door closed and the robot was gone. Somebody else found him. Somebody... else... It made sense, though. Wen had created a beautiful fantasy for himself and he allowed Seb's optimism to lift those fantasies. For some reason, he really thought it would work out differently. Positively. That one look at his creator would spark those deleted memories. But they had been effective erased. Over-written by somebody else.

Was he aware? That other man? Was he aware of what he had? Had he found every imprint of Wen left behind and wiped them all clean? Meticulous and deft, he could have gently worn away what was left of Wen. Even worse, he could have placed himself in Wen's place.

Despite himself, Wen's hands balled into fists and he felt an old, almost unfamiliar welling of emotion deep inside. It had been so, so long since he felt that--the salty heat inside, that swirled into a chaotic ball of emotion inside his chest and stung the back of his eyes. He lowered his gaze and let his hair fall into his face as he made his way back to Seb's car. Swallowing hard, he reached out for the door handle and pulled but didn't immediately slip inside.

He turned his gaze back over his shoulder, wondering... wondering... wondering meant nothing. He lowered his gaze again and finally slid into the vehicle, closing the door behind him and wrapping his arms around himself. Wen daren't look at Seb right now, nor did he speak. He closed his eyes, trying to remember to just breathe, to push back the emotions. All he wished for in that moment was to be a robot himself, with no emotions built in, with no ability to hurt.