Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/322077.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Brobot/Jake_English, Jake_English/Dirk_Strider
  Character:
      Brobot, Jake_English, Dirk_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Robot_Sex, Artificial_Intelligence, POV_Second_Person
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-01-17 Words: 1227
****** Assistant Automaton ******
by dogtier
Summary
     Your name is Dirk Strider. You have a variety of interests, one of
     which is building robots. You are currently watching your boyfriend,
     Jake English, be fucked by one of said robots. You are recording it
     for posterity in the name of scientific research.
Notes
     Inspired by this_picture by Battlesuit.
Your name is Dirk Strider. You have a variety of interests, one of which is
building robots. You are currently watching your boyfriend, Jake English, be
fucked by one of said robots. You are recording it for posterity in the name of
scientific research.
The robot shifts Jake in its lap, placing one hand right above the base of his
spine, dull grey fingers a sharp contrast against Jake’s sweaty skin. You are
still waiting for it to show Jake the new surprise you have installed just for
this occasion. It wouldn’t be a real experiment unless you added a new variable
to the equation. Jake’s eyes slip closed and right on cue the robot activates
the vibration.
“Ah!” Jake shouts. “Oh, oh, oh my- oh golly.”
You would snicker, but the way Jake’s back arches and his fingers scramble
trying to get a grip on the robot’s false hair is too distracting. Your shaking
hand seems to be moving by itself, drifting down to palm your erection through
your black jeans. You stop it almost immediately, bringing the offending limb
up to brace the one holding the camera. Maybe you should have built a tripod
for this. Next time, there’s always next time.
The low buzzing of the machine can be heard rising in intensity. Also rising,
in almost direct proportion you note, is the volume of Jake’s enjoyment. He is
bracing himself with shaking limbs, hips jerking in an attempt to ride out the
robot’s thrusts but he’s failing. He’s simply a blissed out mess. It was only a
matter of time before his arms gave out on him and he slumps forward against
the robot, whimpering.
The robot runs a hand up his back (Is it whispering to him?) before lifting him
easily and making it the few feet necessary from chair to bed. The robot gently
eases Jake’s clutching hands from its shoulders and adjusts his legs so he no
longer has a death grip on the metal. You make a mental note to add a “pomf”
sound effect later as Jake’s back bounces on the sheets. Jake’s now exposed
chest is quivering with his panting and the robot pets his side, trying to
settle him before it begins again. You try to not get impatient. You fail.
Jake starts when you clear your throat. He turns and lifts his head to look at
you a bit dazed, like he had forgotten you were there. The robot doesn’t move
its gaze from Jake, instead just responding to your urging by gripping Jake by
the hips and thrusting slow and shallow. Jake’s head falls back and he whines,
biting his lower lip.
The robot’s joints slide silently and smoothly, as graceful as a living being’s
as it gains speed, pulling out a little more each time until it’s pounding into
Jake. His toes are curling and the robot has to hold him in place because of
his thrashing legs. It pulls the wriggling appendages up and hitches the knees
over its shoulders, bending Jake in half, all the while never once relenting in
its assault. Jake’s noises are quickly approaching howls and you find you’re
having a hard time swallowing back your drool.
Out of nowhere, the robot stills, holding Jake suspended in its grip.
“Jake English,” the robot says, its voice tinny and flat. Jake struggles to
open his eyes as the robot caresses his face.
“Y- yes?” Jake stutters. His eyelids keep fluttering and he seems unable to
focus.
“You will come now,” the robot commands, shifting ever so slightly. Jake obeys
instantly. You aren’t sure you’re okay with Jake taking orders from someone not
you but god, he does look good jerking through his orgasm. His head is thrown
back, the muscles in his throat tensing with a strangled cry. The robot slowly
unwraps Jake’s knees from around its neck (When the hell did he get so
flexible?) and seems almost regretful as it eases out of him. It sits between
his legs, rubbing soothing circles on his sticky stomach. Something clenches in
your chest.
You switch off the camera and place it on your desk with a loud, deliberate
click.
“Thank you, that will be all,” you tell the robot. It hesitates. “Leave.”
It almost appears sulking as it exits the room. You will have too look through
its code later and try to remove whatever defect is causing this abnormal
behavior, but at the moment you are too busy finally undoing the fly of your
ragged pants as you stride purposefully over to Jake. He moans at the touch of
your hand on his thigh. It turns into a hiss when you slide your hand down and
press two fingers inside him. He’s not as slick as he could be but fuck, you
don’t think you can wait and find the lube right now and he’s open enough for
your purposes. You don’t even bother to push your pants down, just pulling your
erection free and shoving in, deeper and deeper until your zipper scraps
against his vulnerable skin. He winces slightly, so you rub his stomach the way
the robot did. It relaxes him, and you kind of hate that the machine knew.
Jake’s not getting it up again, but that’s okay, he’s probably pretty tired.
Having him limp under you has a certain appeal after all. You can move him any
way you like. (You don’t compare him to a puppet in the back of your mind, that
would be sick.) You lean over and lick his nipple, trying to force some sort of
reaction out of him as you near your climax. You finally get it when you bite
down lightly, his body tightening down around you as he stiffens.
You always feel so possessive when you come in him, the primitive thrill of
claiming someone for your own. You wonder if you should say mine sometime, he’d
probably find it dramatic and romantic, but today you just groan deeply. He
lets out a quiet little gasp, always surprised. This is something the robot
never gave him.
You stay braced above him, breathing in the smell of him until you soften to
the point you begin to slip out. Jake still shivers when you slip away from him
to get the cleaning cloths. He would be just as happy sleeping dirty but it’s
your bed. After dropping the stained wipes in the garbage you lay down beside
him, letting him wriggle in close.
“Hey,” Jake whispers. “Where’d he go?”
“Who?” you ask.
“Brobot,” Jake says. He yawns.
“Away,” you say. Jake seems displeased by your curt answer but too exhausted to
fight it. You sit up.
“What are you doing?” Jake says, mumbling really. He’s clearly about to slip
into slumber.
“I have things to do,” you say. “I’ll be back later.”
“Okay,” he says. “Just miss sleeping with someone.”
“I see,” you say. You sit there looking at him for some time after he drifts
off. You really should go and look over the robot’s specs, but for some reason
you stay there instead, thinking. You decide your thoughts would be better
served by a shower, but make sure to grab the remote and switch the robot off
before you do. You need to keep a closer watch on it. Jake is yours, after all.
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