Work Text:
(Sun)
“Moon. …Moon! … … … MOON!”
Something important-sounding hit the floor in the tower with a resounding, spectacular crash. A volley of creative, passionate swearing followed, made all the sharper by Moon’s lack of lungs, and Sun tried very hard not to laugh as the lunar animatronic appeared on the end of the balcony.
“What?!” barked Moon.
“That sounded important!” chirped Sun cheerfully.
Moon spat another no-breaths-required barrage of curse words at him and Sun sighed theatrically, jamming his hands on his skinny hips and pretending to tap his toe.
“That’s not very superstar, Moon.”
“SUN, I SWEAR TO GOD.“
“Okay, okay!” said Sun, hands flat in surrender and shoulders trembling with barely contained mirth, “Sorry, sorry!”
“Stop. Laughing.”
“I’m not laughing!”
“Sunrise.”
“Okay, really, I’m not laughing. Anymore.”
Moon rubbed a hand over his faceplate and pressed his palms together as if praying for patience. “Uuuuuugh. How can I help you, brother?”
Sun span his faceplate once to refresh his emotive library in the hopes he didn’t look quite so much like he was swallowing a belly-laugh. “Really, I’m sorry. Do you still need all the, uh—the… the stuff?”
Moon tilted his head before his brows quirked. “The materials for the laser upgrades?”
“…yeah. That.”
“Yeah, I do,” nodded Moon, ducking back along the balcony, “Solar’s already in the dimension making a start. I’ll be ready in a bit. Got a bunch of stuff to sweep up now, maybe you know something about that?”
Sun flapped his rays unrepentantly, a blast of air buzzing through his vents. He’d held the fort at the Daycare solo today, Moon wrapped up in blueprints and schematics, and felt a bit of inconvenience was fair game. “Oh, Solar’s there by himself? I’ll head on over and give him a hand.”
Moon’s face reappeared above him. “You sure?”
“Yeah!” nodded Sun, “I’m all done here, everything’s clean and lovely and tidy. Might as well go and help out, right?”
“…great, that’d be awesome,” nodded Moon, retreating again towards his room, "Gimme a second, I'll power up the portal... aaaaand... you're up."
Sun sighed and vaulted over the fake castle embrasure, disappeared into the multicoloured ball pit to a blizzard of static and bars, then rematerialized in what looked like a cross between a parkour dimension and the Hallelujah Mountains from Avatar.
The entire domain hung suspended in a molten blue, endless sky, dotted with clouds in a startling medley of unnaturally rich pigments like they’d been daubed on with a giant palette knife. The terrain itself was formed of a seemingly endless cascade of floating islands, all exposed facets of rock and clinging moss beneath and soft grass, open caves and ferns above. A skyward garden jigsaw.
Stunning, in Sun’s opinion – so long as you didn’t mind the falling to your death risk.
“Solar!” he yelled, craning his head around to catch a glimpse of burnished terracotta and sandstone colours, “Where y’are?”
Nothing.
A brief flurry of concern wobbled across his circuits and he peeked over the edge of the island he’d landed on, a blanket of clouds carpeting the fathomless emptiness below, but they all had emergency teleport enabled for fall damage. Solar would be fine.
“Hnngh,” hummed Sun discordantly, straightening up and enjoying the cool breeze playing across his rays. The route behind was dicey but passable, smaller floating rocks making up a hop-skip route that needed speed and precision to traverse. The route ahead involved some climbing, but it was much more solid.
“If I was a super smart, super pragmatic, straightforward kind of guy, where would I go? …forward, I guess.”
The sunny-model set off.
Getting around this dimension was good fun once he’d hammered into his automatic self-preservation protocols that falling, while embarrassing and terrifying, wasn’t lethal.
And he so rarely got to stretch his servos out like this during the workday. Sure, chasing after an army of children wasn’t exactly a sedentary task, but he’d been built for the theatre once upon a time and was fleet and agile - at least as far as animatronics went.
Even Moon rarely bothered trying to keep up with Sun. They had exactly the same construction and locomotive abilities, but Moon lacked the high-energy programming of the daytime/playtime AI. Unlike Sun, he rarely got the zoomies.
He was all gangly limbs and no sense, he supposed. Sun giggled to himself at the notion, backing up to take a running, vaulting leap over a larger gap instead of scrambling around it. For a moment he sailed through the air, wind whistling cool and electrifying over his plating like rainwater, weightless and free.
Then he landed in a coil of inhumanly long limbs and a shower of bells in front of a larger island, yawning wide with a hollowed-out cave. Cheered with the pleasant thrum of motion in his servos, he set off with a happy, contented hum.
The contentment came to a grinding halt as he caught sight of himself on a polished stalactite, worn to a glassy shine, and grumbled in grumpy static. In his haste to hurry and help, he’d skipped washing himself off after taking care of the kids. He never showered until after he’d finished cleaning - what would be the point? But now he looked scruffy and silly, neck ruffle and rays scrawled with crayon and a chorus of painted fingerprints and smudges all over his torso. To say nothing of the atrocious mess of his pantaloons.
God, it would be nice to look half-decent every now and again.
“Oh good. Great. Awesome,” muttered Sun mulishly, raising a hand to try and thumb away some of the crayon in his rays before realising how pointless that would be and giving up. “I look like an actual clown. I… whatever, I don’t care. Screw it. Solar’s not gonna care either.”
Archiving the nagging ache in his processors and pretending very hard that he didn’t care, Sun traipsed into the cave with much less spring in his step.
He’d barely gotten a few minutes in when he rounded a corner and saw Solar on the other side of a hollowed cavern, the walls glinting like a rainbow mosaic of shattered jewels. The whole thing looked like the inside of an enormous, multi-coloured geode.
Solar had taken to wearing heavy-duty, homemade cargo pants (to accommodate his inhuman height) instead of his old, faded pantaloons and sturdy, heavy-soled work boots instead of belled slippers. Depending on the day’s tasks, the practical ensemble could be combined with a weighty tool belt, a growing collection of t-shirts, the on-brand neck ruffles he was supposed to wear and a stiff but well-loved pair of workmen’s gloves. Today the neck ruffles and tool belt were missing, but the rest of the outfit was there, streaked with dirt on top of the onyx spots of oil.
He looked unapologetically, inimitably Solar, and Sun’s wires squeezed with fondness. They were so lucky to have him at their Daycare.
Right now, his back was turned to Sun as he audibly grumbled to himself, arms folded and tapping a booted toe like a cantankerous, industrious rabbit. It was oddly adorable.
“Hey Solar!” called Sun, waving enthusiastically, and the mechanic jumped on the spot with a bark of surprise, fumbling whatever was in his hands and dropping it on his other foot with a loaded clunk.
“FUCK!”
Sun grimaced as Solar hopped on one foot, smouldering orange eyes bright and round with shock. Two words in and already he’d managed to screw it all up.
Great job, Sunrise.
(Solar)
One word in and he’d already put his foot in it. Or dropped a surprisingly heavy glob of rock on his foot, sending a shockwave of sensory alerts racing up his leg and causing him to jump up and down while fumbling his way over his work boot to assess any damage.
Great job, Solar.
“Sorry, sorry!” called Sun, hurrying across the cavern to join Solar as he put his foot back on the ground and pasted a suitably non-pained expression on his face.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine,” he huffed.
“I didn’t mean to startle you!” whined Sun apologetically, wincing with sympathy as Solar tested the foot. “Any dents or breaks?”
As it turned out, no. Solar whirred thoughtfully and ran a secondary diagnostic to be sure, but he was entirely undamaged. Not even a nick out of the paint. Hm - just needed to tweak his sensory array to match his new, reinforced casing, dull the damage alert sensitivity. Save the pain response for when he was actually hurt.
Belatedly he realised Sun was waiting for a response and shook his head firmly. “No, honestly, I’m good. Careful though, the materials here are heavier than they look.”
“Gotcha. I came to help, actually. I mean, if you need help?”
The golden animatronic stepped up beside him, snow-white eyes reflecting the jewel tones of the crystalline walls like stained glass, his delicate rays smudged in a crayon rainbow. Solar realised with a flutter of circuits that Sun was dotted all over with crayon, paint and pigment, swipes and smudges and tiny handprints. The entire effect came together like a kaleidoscopic, joyful lava lamp, a sunny-model carrying real traces of childlike joy and happy memories right there on his plating.
It was ridiculously endearing. The raw, tender affection bubbled deep in Solar’s servos again and he quashed it down with a metallic grumble.
“We need the minerals up there, on that ledge. See where there’s an overhang? The ones we want are forming right at the back, it’s kind of like… orange jewel-lichen,” he explained.
Sun craned his head back, hands on hips, tilting and swivelling his head like an owl. Gauging the distance and calculating the height, locking in his binocular vision. Solar knew if he listened closely, he’d hear his optics whirring. Sun stopped bobbing and whistled. “That’s inconvenient.”
“Yeah,” grumbled Solar, turning away. “We’ll have to wait for Moon. I can ask him to bring a ladder or—”
Sun crouched down like a cat, fingertips ghosting across the ground, spine arched, then uncoiled like a giant yellow spring. He rocketed up into the air like a golden missile, scaling the wall in a flurry of willowy limbs as if he weighed the square root of fuck all, caught the edge of the ledge and scrabbled up and out of sight. It was like watching a super charged, oversized metal squirrel bolt up a tree.
Solar stared up after him, locking his jaw in place to stop his mouth hanging open, tried to speak, failed, refreshed his language library and tried again.
“…what the fuck’s in your battery?”
Sun’s face appeared over the ledge with a snicker, rays flapping playfully. “One of those fancy iced coffees Moon pretends he doesn’t know how to make and a whole bunch of charge. Is it the orange gemstone-y stuff you want?”
“I—wh—yes. It should just snap off.”
“Okay. How much do you want?”
“How much is there?”
“Uh… enough to fill a bathtub?”
“…half of it.”
“Okay! Look out below!”
Between crystalline crunching noises and jovial, adorably tuneless humming, Sun tossed down fistfuls of salamander, tangerine and carrot-orange gemstone. Solar caught them and built a small pile, cataloguing carefully in his HUD, before shouting back up. “I think that’s enough!”
The daffodil and sunflower yellow animatronic peered over the edge of the ledge again, beaming at a job well done, and waved Solar back out of reach. “Watch your head, be right down.”
“Wait, Sun, you’re not going to—SUN—!“
Sun vaulted out into open air with a joyous whoop, arms wheeling, and hit the ground in an effortless, clockwork metallic thump. Before Solar could say a single word - or shout at him - Sun popped up with a carefree little bounce on his toes, jangling the bells there, and brandished a thumb-sized offset of jewel in rich fire orange as if nothing had happened.
“Sun, I swear—”
“It’s like you!” enthused Sun, brushing a little dirt off the precious stone and beaming at it, immune to Solar’s impending processor failure, “Your eyes, I mean. That’s coming home with me.” The little rock wasn’t glasslike and clear like the rest. Instead it was marbled, like vermillion ink rippling in water. Sun pocketed it with a cheerful hum and beamed at Solar, clearly very pleased with himself. “Are you okay?”
“…I’m fine,” said Solar, shaking his head, “You almost gave me a figurative heart attack but I’m fine.”
Sun scoffed gently, nudging Solar’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’m plenty springy.”
“Springy?”
“Oh, you know. Bouncy? It’s theatre and wire programming. I can run, jump, do tricks, even a bit of dancing! Not much use for it now except some showy stuff for the kids.” Sun cocked his head thoughtfully, voice softening. “Did you inherit any of that?”
Solar shook his head slowly. He’d seen this dimension’s Moon pull an exorcist spine-breaking manoeuvre to crawl back to front and frighten the bejeezus out of humans getting on his nerves, but scaling and descending a sheer wall like a humungous metal cat was new to him. “No, none of that,” he said quietly, “Can I see?”
“See what?”
“Some tricks.”
“Oh,” said Sun, rays part-retracting in an uncharacteristically bashful ripple. “Uh… sure, hang on…”
Solar wasn’t sure exactly what he expected - maybe a twirl and a cartwheel - but Sun broke into a bounding gait and merrily abandoned the concept of gravity, leaping and twisting through the air like it was the easiest thing in the world. Several spinning somersaults, splits and aerial cartwheels later, Sun halted in a theatrical ta-da pose, politely ignoring Solar’s goggling eyes.
“The dancing programmes are a bit of a waste to be honest, not much dancing to be done with humans,” explained Sun affably, “Height difference is a bit of an issue! Getting dipped by a giant animatronic isn’t most people’s idea of fun. And between you and I, what the Glamrocks do isn’t dancing. I mean, I don’t have breakdance programming like Monty, but I bet I could give it a try. And Freddy on the floor is, wow - it’s something, let’s put it that way! At least the guy has fun, and that’s what dancing’s supposed to be about.”
Bereft of anything clever to say, Solar managed, “What’s a dip?”
“It’s a duo dance move,” explained Sun, gesticulating as if dropping something and then holding it at arm’s length at a weird diagonal line beneath his body, “It’s where you… actually, come here, easier if I show you. Put your hands on my shoulders.”
Feeling like he was walking headfirst into a massive, glaringly obvious trap, Solar lifted his gloved hands and gingerly rested them on Sun’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure how much pressure he was supposed to exert and didn’t want to seem even stupider by asking, so he settled for curling his fingertips just enough against the ridge of Sun’s socket joint. That didn’t seem too bad, but then Sun shuffled right into his space and slid his long fingers around Solar’s waist.
A shiver flexed down Solar’s wires and he bolted tightly stiff to avoid tangibly vibrating against Sun’s sensitive, sensor-laden palms.
“Okay,” said Sun, “And then I step forward and you lean back, arch your neck, and I dip you! Like thi—iiiIIIIIS—!”
Sun attempted to dip Solar backwards, throwing one leg back into an elegant line and bending the other at the knee, but he staggered under Solar’s weight and stumbled forward, eyes flying wide and a squawk of alarm catching in a click-click-squeak as the two animatronics hit the deck. Solar’s back hit the ground and Sun crashed down to meet him, sprawling over him belly-to-belly and legs tangling, faceplate squished into Solar’s neck and rays clacking together.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck danger danger danger —
Solar barely heard the chime of Sun’s stupid bells over the roaring sound of his fans and the delicate, sensual scrape of pale and dark gold rays. He didn’t feel the impact of the earth at his back over the molten firework display of his sensory array. And he barely had time to process the warm, glorious weight of another body atop his, the hummingbird hum of a vibrating voice box brushing up against his neck and the firm rub of smooth, streamlined plating before Sun levitated off him with a squeaky yelp.
“Sorry sorry sorry!” he cried frantically, glowing like a beacon and stumbling back before remembering to reach out and offer Solar a hand up, “I didn’t calibrate that right, I presumed you weighed as much as me and Moon! That was embarrassing, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”
The eclipse-model managed to indicate he needed a second before taking Sun’s hand. Actually, he needed about a hundred years to wrestle the avalanche of new sensory array alerts under control, but he didn’t have that kind of time.
Get a grip, for god’s sake. Sun’s beautiful, kind and lively, sweet and funny. A joyless, boring, rough runaway Eclipse is not his type.
“I’m fine,” he rasped, voice ragged, “I’m just heavier than you’re used to.”
“Yeah,” breathed Sun, pulling Solar back upright. Solar knew the sunny-model was taking careful note of Solar’s new weight and heft, feeding the measurements into his memory banks to cater for it in future. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not hurt, don’t mention it,” said Solar, “I, uh… made some adjustments, should’ve said something. Heavier duty casing, tougher endo and stronger hydraulics. Still working out the kinks, but…”
“I can see that,” nodded Sun wonderingly, “Why? If you don’t… mind me asking?”
Because my casing was cracked within minutes of me getting a body of my own? Because more and more cracks appeared as the months dragged by? Because if I ever, ever see my Moon again, I want to know he can’t do that to me again? Because this dimension is so full of surprises and peril that I couldn’t relax until I knew I could tank a few blows? Until I knew I could protect you and Moon and Earth and Lunar if I needed to?
Musing for a moment, Solar finally shrugged. “I wanted to be able to take more of a hit.”
Sun blew out a discordant note of troubled static. “You’re planning on taking hits? Are you in a fight club or something?”
Solar huffed a low, gentle laugh. “Planning for taking hits. I’m hardly Bloodmoon or KC, but the Daycare Attendant baseline model is made for flight, not fight. This way, I can stand my ground if needed. Means I’m not as springy or light as you or Moon anymore, but… Sun? You okay?”
Pearlescent eyes goggled at him, wide and glowing, before Sun shook himself like he was banishing excess electricity. “H-hah… okay. Noted.”
“I don’t mean to make you nervous,” said Solar.
“I’m not nervous!” insisted Sun, waving his hands, “Just… processing. Literally! I mean, I nearly dropped you.”
“You did drop me.”
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know you’d modded yourself.”
“Fair.”
“… so… now I could beat you in a race?” said Sun, a familiar twinkle glinting in his eyes, and Solar snorted.
“Sure. But I could take you.”
As soon as the words fell out of his voice box, Solar wanted to turn back time and punch himself in the face.
Oh my god , you total, hopeless moron. Take you ? Why - the - fuck - did I say that?
If Sun noticed the horrified expression drawing tight across Solar’s faceplate, he kindly didn’t say so. Or maybe he did, and hopped straight into a distraction to save Solar’s blushes.
How did he always know how to make Solar feel at ease?
The golden animatronic rocked up onto his toes with a feisty laugh as if psyching himself up to go into the boxing ring. “Nope! I’m not running away! Standing my ground and meeting my fate! Jester versus modded mechanic! Real life robot wars!” He put up his fists like he was in a bare-knuckle match and Solar couldn’t help but grin.
Sun was fucking charming, and it was rapidly becoming a problem.
Unable to think of a convincing lie quickly enough to avoid the game, Solar rolled his eyes and half-heartedly tried to grab Sun. The sunny-model leant back out of the way like a candle arching in a breeze, graceful and quick, and poked his tongue out. “Wow. That was feeble.”
“Right, c’mere,” grinned Solar, swiping for him again, and Sun folded backwards into a back-breaking limbo arch to duck beneath and sidestep, dancing away on lighter feet and a steadily building giggle.
The game spun towards a crescendo as Solar’s attempts to snatch Sun became stronger and Sun’s bobbing and weaving devolved into quicksteps, cartwheels, ducks and dives around him, Solar pretending to growl and grumble when he missed and Sun completely failing to swallow his squeals of glee. He felt like he was chasing a feather, dancing away on the breeze just out of reach, fingertips grazing but never touching. Sure, he could lash out and grab, squeeze with his new, powerful relays, but the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally hurt Sun.
Solar merrily chased him around the cavern to a rising duet of high-pitched and gravelly laughter. All thoughts of gathering materials spiralled away in the face of the game and Sun’s beaming, delighted smile. This was too much fun - the job could wait.
Finally, in a lightning-fast, praying mantis lash, Solar snared Sun’s skyhook. Before Sun could react, Solar lifted him bodily off the ground with one arm, hefting his entire weight like a bag of sugar, and Sun – fucking – squealed.
Solar immediately forgot about the game. In fact, Solar forgot pretty much everything else in the world. Screw the game. Screw the job. Screw everything—everything except for this. The slim metal ring pressed against his palm like it had been built for him, for his hands, to grip and tug and squeeze and pull.
Cheerfully unaware of the sudden hurricane of all-consuming lust rampaging through Solar’s circuits, Sun happily kicked in the air like a protesting kitten on a medley of gleeful giggling. “Aaaaa-ha, damn it—ack—unhand me, you—you—you foul fiend! You’ll never take me alive!”
Swinging his long legs up, Sun kicked out against nothing, momentum rocking through his body like a lanky pendulum, and Solar caught him as he swung back against him. His newly calibrated gyroscopes careened like spinning tops and he automatically locked his arms tight around Sun to stop them sprawling to the floor, one arm bolted across his upper chest and the other pinned flush to his belly, and—
Oh.
In the space of a moment, far too fast for him to resist, Solar suddenly had Sun in his arms, the golden animatronic’s back pressed hard against his belly. The molten flex of his articulated, complex spine squeezed flush against the split of Solar’s wet-clay and sandstone paint, sending his processors spiralling like steam off blistering, white-hot metal.
“H-ah,” rasped Solar, barely a whisper above silence, mouth accidentally grazing an apricot ray, “Sun.”
The fantasies flooded Solar’s mind in a stutter-quick blizzard of warm golden plating and high, breathy, blissful sighs.
Oh god I want I want I want —
Solar wanted to lick over the ray shivering at his lips and draw it softly into his mouth. He wanted to taste the quivering cry that would elicit on his tongue. He wanted to sink to his knees, drawing Sun down with him. He wanted to cover his glistening back with molten, open-mouthed kisses. He wanted to soak in the artificially breathless whispers of yes andmore and Solar. He wanted to glide his fingertips beneath Sun’s waistband and trace patterns and promises into his panelling. He wanted to push those striped pantaloons down to pool around Sun’s wobbling knees.
I want to protect you, I want to keep you safe. I want to adore you, I want to share myself with you. I want to enjoy you, I want you to enjoy me. I want to make you feel good. I want to make love to you .
Solar dropped Sun like a hot coal and stumbled back on a garbled bark of glitching static, the flurry of erotic fantasies blazing through his processors in a mere split second and burning into the inside of his plating like branding irons.
Holy fuck, Sun was beautiful. His honeyed colours captured the spectrum of jewel tones in the crystalline cavern like a firework display, a dancing flame, a golden aurora borealis.
Another second passed and Solar shook himself like a wet dog, refocusing with gargantuan effort. Goddamn it. The eclipse-model blinked and realised Sun had backed away to put a safe, arms-reach distance between them, staring at Solar with wide, blank eyes.
He was also trembling from head to toe.
Solar’s face fell with horror. Oh god - he’d frightened him.
(Sun)
Sun’s processors creaked under the weight of his million-mile-an-hour thoughts and electrified sensory array, squirming under his plating like split wires.
OhmygodohmygodohmygodWHATWAS THAT ?!
Belatedly, he realised he was vibrating with nerves and something he didn’t quite have a name for, trembling so hard his rays rattled.
Did… did I like that? Being held like that? …by Solar?
Solar’s grasp was warm as summer sun, steadfast as a weathered mountain. Solar’s body wasn’t much bigger than Sun’s, only a little broader and taller to accommodate his new modifications, but god Solar seemed to tower in comparison. Sun felt like he could let his joints unspool and relax completely into the eclipse-model’s arms, and Solar would’ve held him effortlessly.
Safe. So safe.
And spectacularly, unexpectedly, terrifyingly arousing. Thank god for modesty panels - whoever invented them deserved immediate, fully funded retirement.
Oh my god, am I that easy? thought Sun frantically. Stop it—don’t be so goddamn stupid. So what if he’s strong and—and sexy and—and brave and clever and funny and thoughtful and—and—nope, enough of that! He’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny. He’s Solar, for god’s sake. Do I even like him like that? I—
“Sunrise?”
Solar’s voice, low and startlingly soft, pressed through Sun’s flurry of frenetic thoughts and jerked him back to reality. Solar looked like he’d been punched. “Huh?” managed Sun.
“Sun, I’m sorry,” murmured Solar, shuffling back half a step, “Please, you don’t have to… be afraid of me.”
“…huh?” repeated Sun stupidly.
Solar winced as if Sun had slapped him. “These modifications—”
“Oh!” breathed Sun, understanding and then guilt washing through his circuits like battery acid, “Oh god, sorry, no—I’mnot afraid of you! Not at all! I’m so sorry Solar, I didn’t mean to—I’m just…”
Just what? Suddenly hyper-aware of your body and touch? Suddenly so turned on I’m having trouble speaking? Suddenly freaking out that I might possibly maybe have a crush on you and didn’t realise? Yeah, no. I’ll keep that to myself.
“…I’m just surprised?” he offered feebly, hoping he sounded more certain that he felt, “A-and feeling pretty noodly and spaghetti-armed in comparison.” He waggled his arms like an inflatable, floppy sky puppet and that horrible, terrified expression on Solar’s face finally wore away under a reluctant snort.
“Okay. That’s good.”
“Absolutely!” insisted Sun, “I’m also wondering if I could ever convince you to do an arm-wrestling contest with Monty. Watch that stupid smirk get wiped off his face.”
That got a chuckle. Mission accomplished.
They carried the orange gem nodes back to the teleporter point together in awkward silence, punctuated only by the chime of bells and wind whistling between the floating islands like a giant set of rocky wind chimes. Sun kept sneaking glances over at Solar, inevitably getting caught and immediately pretending he’d been looking at something else.
Solar broke the silence. “Maybe you could teach me?”
Sun glanced over at the eclipse-model, who looked bizarrely shy. “Teach you?” asked Sun.
“Some dances,” suggested Solar, “So long as you don’t mind me treading all over your feet. It looked fun.”
“O-oh. Of course! Yeah, I can do that!” nodded Sun.
Solar grinned ruefully and added, “Maybe I should handle the dips though. Less likely to drop you.”
Sun had never been more grateful for the teleporter to rob him of his sight and senses, because it meant Solar couldn’t see him or his blinding glow of blush either. He dived down into the ball pit as soon as the Daycare re-materialised to hide and disable his glow, hoping to god Solar hadn’t seen it, and pretended he’d tripped over his own feet when the baffled mechanic fished him out.
(Solar)
Moon was unrepentant about not coming to help, blaming Sun for making him drop a new computer screen up in his room and ending up with a floor full of glass. Solar shrugged and gave Sun credit for retrieving the gems.
For one, it was true. Solar would’ve had to build scaffolding to get up to where Sun had gaily skipped up the wall as if gravity didn’t exist.
Secondly, the poor guy had been unfailingly gracious and forgiving about Solar grabbing him and restraining him and gasping his name into his auditory receptors. It was a humbling experience, not least because Sun was so astonishingly kind about it. It was also a reminder that cranking his power meant he had to be careful about it. He hadn’t come close to hurting Sun—thank fuck, he’d never have forgiven himself—but he’d easily overpowered him. That wasn’t something he could gloss over.
Finally, Solar had no choice but to stop pretending this was a mere crush.
Sun was beautiful. To Solar’s mind, that wasn’t even a question. He wasn’t a moron, he knew he was getting dangerously fond of the sunny-model, soaking in his company and planning new ways to make him smile and laugh. And sure, he’d enjoyed a fantasy or two before – all imagined, stolen touches, the taste of scalding metal and feel of soft silicone, but the desire had at least been manageable.
This… this wasn’t. That lightning bolt of servo-splintering lust, the near-painful craving to hold, admire and protect, was something else entirely.
Something he couldn’t ignore.
When the sunny-model hurried away to have a shower and scrub away remnants of dirt, crayon and craft paint, Solar relievedly let him go. He needed space to calm the fuck down.
Sun reappeared a while later, glowing and spotless, and hurried past Solar as fast as he could without actually breaking into a run. Solar couldn’t blame him, though his wires shivered forlornly.
Summoning the wire to hoist himself back up to the tower, Sun hissed out of the corner of his mouth to Moon where he plainly thought Solar couldn’t hear, “Did you know he’d modded himself to be so… so strong?”
“Who? Solar?”
“No, the freaking mop bot—yes, Solar!”
“Well, yeah?” shrugged Moon, squinting into one of the gem nodes and warbling approvingly, “He asked me to double check his plans before he installed them and I helped out with some of the fiddlier calibrations. Why?”
Sun stared at Moon as if he was very, very stupid. Then he hooked onto the wire and whistled up to the tower in a shiver of bells and an unmistakable scoff of disgust. Moon blinked, glanced up to where Sun had disappeared, then looked over at Solar. “What? What did I do?”
Equally puzzled, Solar shook his head and tried to put the nagging sensation of Sun’s spine pressed flush and hot to his belly out of his mind.