Automata

AN: I know the summary is shit, but I blanked on what to say. I'm slowly and painfully workin on Fetch the Ghoul. But I'm loving Juarez and Adam right now. Review please. Pretty please?

With the last few tones of Black Pipe Fantasy fading away into the clicks and beeps of the The Cave, Adam slapped a few keys with long pale fingers, and yanked his goggles off. He dropped them next to the keyboard and wandered over to the gurney.

“Alright loser. Wake up,” he nudged the body on the gurney. The body was of a Mexican with dark brown hair with a black eye and a shadow of bruising over his throat. Adam’s eyes narrowed when the body didn’t move. His lips peeled back off his teeth, and he wanted to add more bruises.

“You skanky fucker, if I have to shock you awake I’m going to put something new into your programming. Like emasculation.”

There was a pause before blue eyes opened and Adam saw himself in the wide eyes with pupils blown to almost show no iris. Those big eyes blinked twice before the pupil shrunk to normal size and awareness filled them. The muscles in that leaned red brown face tightened, and a hand came up to touch the bruised eye.

“Ow. Fuck. What the hell?” The words had the rough quality of someone that loved their cigarettes like most parents loved their children.

Adam parked his bony ass on the edge of the gurney, and folded his arms over his vintage Gamer t-shirt.

“I’m gonna let you live with the bruises for awhile. Maybe you’ll fucking learn to keep it in your pants,” he leaned down into the Automata’s face, and heard a faint clicking as the pupils eclipsed the irises again. “I told you to do one simple thing. Get the fucking chip. That chip was how we were going to be in power and money for the next three months. And what do you do?” Adam threw up his hands, and shoved away, almost flipping the gurney on its side. The Automata landed on his feet, but crouched down so Adam couldn’t see him.

“You fuck the contractor’s boy toy. You FUCK the CONTRACTOR’S boy toy!”

Adam watched the Automata crouch down out of sight and wondered how he could be such a coward in front of him, but in the outside world act like such a cock shit little bastard. Then the cross-dressing episode took front and center in his mind.

“Christ, Juarez. At least tell me it was worth it.” He rubbed his eyes and when he looked up Juarez was standing beside the gurney with a small smile on his gorgeous face.

“Oh yea, it was.”

Juarez rocked back on his heels and watched Adam’s legs. The legs were the only thing he could see of the man, the rest of his was buried underneath the 1969 Ford Mustang. The damn car never worked, hadn’t worked in almost a hundred years. There was a brief time two month ago were the cranky old engine had turned over. Adam had celebrated by doing an overhaul on Juarez and making it possible for the Automata to have sex. And have emotions. But the sex was the one Juarez appreciated the most. He never did thank the car.

“There’s someone waiting in the front office.” He said to Adam’s legs, and heard the man’s heart beat kick up a few notches. The resulting bang of cranium to car was expected. So was the swearing.

“Who the hell is it?” Adam demanded when he had himself sitting with his back against the car and an ice pack against the swelling on his forehead.

Juarez felt a brief moment of concern, then marvel over the fact that he felt concern overrode the original feeling. A smile broke his face, and it widened when Adam scowled at him.

“A Mr. Aaron Black.” Juarez’ eyebrows twitched when Adam shot to his feet, dropping the icepack into a mushy slump on the concrete floor.

“Aaron,” hissed Adam before he charged out of the room, leaving Juarez experiencing an emotion that he was becoming quite familiar with. Irritation.