Chapter Text
“Mother Angie? The toilet tank is filled with maple syrup again.”
Angelina Drake set down her half-eaten piece of toast and sighed deeply as she regarded the cheerful face of her younger son, who had just delivered this disconcerting piece of news. “Your brother?”
“I did not see if he went to the bathroom during the night, but it does seem to be within his expected behaviors.”
“You didn’t try to flush it, did you?”
“Of course not. I have no need for the toilet.” This was true. Although Boyd was capable of consuming food, his caloric converter simply incinerated everything, and did not create solid or liquid waste. He had, however, taken to washing his hands and face in the bathroom sink every morning. He liked the feeling of cool water on his skin, and he liked having a morning routine that somewhat matched the rest of the Drake family.
“Perhaps we can siphon it off and refill it- is Doofus still asleep, Boyd?” Edwin Drake said, draining down the remains of his coffee.
Boyd nodded. His adoptive brother always slept late on Saturdays. And often on weekdays, too, despite his parents’ insistence that he begin attending school more regularly. Boyd, on the other hand, was generally up early. Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to sleep, but his batteries always seemed to hold charge better if he powered down while he was plugged in, and doing so in a soft, warm, bed was extremely pleasant.
“We might just want to call a plumber. He may have jerry-rigged it to do something unpleasant.” Mother Angie was saying
“I could also ask Papa Gyro if he has some sort of solvent?” Boyd suggested, hoping that would be helpful. His mother and father looked slightly startled.
“Right. It’s Saturday.” Father Edwin looked at his wife, then back to Boyd. “Would you be able to go over by yourself? We really need to deal with the plumbing before your brother wakes up.”
“Yes! I am fully fueled and can easily make the flight.” Papa Gyro’s house was not too far from the Drakes’, and Boyd had flown back and forth a few times before. Although he was the legal heir to half of the Drakes’ fortune, he technically didn’t have an official guardian. After all, he was technically not a nine-year-old boy, but a nearly twenty-year-old robot, and he’d lived on his own for many years. For the past few months, though, he had found that he very much enjoyed living like a real kid, with a real family. The Drakes had been delighted to welcome him. Well, Mother Angie and Father Edwin had been delighted. Doofus was still getting used to having a sibling. But even Doofus liked going to Woodchuck activities together.
As much as Boyd liked the Drakes, though, he had been even more thrilled to realize that his original creator, Gyro Gearloose, lived nearby. Boyd had been visiting Gyro’s apartment every Saturday for a while now, and always looked forward to it. The inventor had books, and games, and nifty gadgets that he was always working on. Boyd enjoyed school, but he always learned the most when he was with Papa Gyro.
Boyd attempted to send a text message as he rocketed over, but there was no response. It was still quite early. Perhaps Gyro he was still asleep? Boyd landed outside of the apartment building and punched in the door code on a little keypad, then headed up the flights of stairs to apartment number 502. From the hallway, he attempted to reach Gyro’s wifi, but the signal was weaker than usual. That was strange. He managed to connect just outside the door, and immediately realized why the bandwidth was occupied. In addition to Gyro’s computer and phone, there were an additional three phones, two tablets, a laptop, and a smartwatch connected to the network. All of these extra devices had some variation of “L33T_B34KS” in their names.
This was perplexing. Boyd liked Mark Beaks, but why would he be in Papa Gyro’s apartment? Boyd’s password opened the electronic lock and he crept inside. The kitchen and living area was empty, as was Gyro’s study. Boyd turned on his infrared scanners and aimed them at the closed bedroom door. He could make out the heat signatures of two adult-sized bodies asleep on the bed.
There was no one else here. The second person had to be Daddy Mark. This was exciting! It was odd, though, because Papa Gyro had never mentioned that he and Mark Beaks were friends. Well, they were probably more than just friends, if they were sleeping together. Boyd had near-constant Internet access, and was therefore perfectly aware of what usually happened when two adults shared a bed.
Whatever the nature of their relationship, if Daddy Mark and Papa Gyro were spending time together, then maybe Boyd could see them both more often! Mark had been a great dad when he first found Boyd! They’d had a lot of fun together, and then… Boyd didn’t quite remember. He knew he’d glitched when he fell in the pool, and then the next thing he knew his systems were back online and the Drakes were his family. He loved the Drakes, and he loved Gyro, but he also missed Mark. And as far as Boyd knew, both the inventor and the programmer had been single for a while. Father Edwin and Mother Angie loved each other and took care of each other. It would be nice if Papa Gyro and Daddy Mark could love each other too.
Boyd looked around. Organic beings were usually hungry when they woke up in the morning. Perhaps he could make himself useful by preparing breakfast. He’d only recently started cooking, but he’d found it to be one of his favorite activities. He quickly downloaded a pancake recipe, and busied himself in the kitchen.
He had finished the first griddle-ful when Gyro, looking incredibly flustered, rushed out the door.
“Boyd! Sorry I didn’t come down to let you in. I forgot what day of the week it was! Did Edwin or Angelina drop you off?”
“No, my Mother and Father gave me permission to fly myself over today. And I know the security code on all your locks. I looked through your bedroom door with my infrared scanners and saw you were still asleep, so I thought I’d make myself useful before you woke up.”
Boyd noticed the feathers around Gyro’s neck stand up at odd angles, and his heart rate rapidly increased. “Wait. You infrared scanned my bedroom?”
Boyd considered for a moment before responding. Perhaps Gyro would be less embarrassed if Boyd offered a more childlike conclusion. “Yes. That’s why I’m making pancakes. Pancakes are the best breakfast to have after a sleepover.”
“A… a sleepover. Right.”
Mark emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, appearing to be considerably less flustered than Gyro. Then again, he was generally better at hiding his emotions. But he didn't conceal his surprise or his joy at seeing Boyd.
“Hey little dude!” Mark beamed as he bent down to lift Boyd into a quick hug, then held the android out at arms’ length and looked quizzically at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I come over every Saturday,” Boyd informed him. “I’m ever so glad to find out that you and Dr. Gearloose are such good friends!”
Mark glanced over Boyd’s shoulder at Gyro.
“Yes,” Gyro said quickly, “That’s why I invited you over for a sleepover .”
Mark’s pupils contracted, just for a moment. “Riiiiight. We wanted to watch bad movies and have a sleepover. But…” His eyes darted around the room as he avoided Boyd’s earnest gaze. “But we were so tired that we fell asleep before we watched the movie.” He set Boyd back on the floor and zipped up his jacket. “I should probably get going, actually” he mumbled.
“But I made these pancakes just for you!” Boyd said, jetting over towards the stove and bringing a plate to Mark. He’d arranged blueberries in the batter so that they formed the shape of the Waddle logo. Mark looked over at Gyro again, who was standing stiffly in the corner, brewing a pot of coffee.
“Aww, that’s really sweet of you, kiddo. But I don’t know if I should--”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Boyd. Why don’t you sit down, Mark?” Gyro placed the carafe and three mugs on the table, and Boyd brought the pancake plates over. The two adults didn’t say much as they ate.
“By the way, Boyd, I did buy the expansion pack for Super Benzino Battle Royale, if you’d like to play it today,” Gyro finally said to break the silence.
“That sounds fun! Can Mr. Beaks play too?”
Mark’s face remained passive, but Boyd sensed an increase of his heart rate. “I really should get back to work, buddy. Maybe later, ok? And Gyro, thanks for the breakfast, and for the… sleepover.” Mark drained his coffee and stood up.
“I’ll clean up!” Boyd offered, grabbing the plates, forks, and drinking glasses off the table. They were both behaving very strangely. Boyd had his suspicions about why, but he couldn't be certain until he ran some biometric tests. A blood sample would be more accurate, but he couldn’t collect that without them noticing. Hopefully there would be enough saliva on the dishware to get a reading. He turned on the water in the sink, then ran his thumb across the tines of Mark’s fork and the rim of his drinking glass. He pressed his thumb to the biometric scanner embedded in the roof of his mouth, and began cleaning the plates while his system ran calculations. He then repeated the process with Gyro’s dishes. Gyro’s oxytocin levels were higher than Boyd had ever seen them. Additionally, both men showed elevated levels of dopamine, slightly above-baseline testosterone, and trace amounts of alcohol.
So they had almost certainly copulated last night. As far as Boyd knew, people usually did that when they liked each other. So why did they both look so uncomfortable?
Boyd continued to clean the dishes as Mark gathered his things and stammered something about maybe texting Gyro later, and Gyro mumbling an inaudible answer.
The door closed, and Gyro turned around, a bright and clearly false smile plastered on his face. “So how about that video game?”
It was all very odd. Boyd would need to do some more behavioral research to understand it.
Gyro had had a rough week. It seemed that every circuit he built had been faulty, the interns kept making mistakes that could have easily be prevented if they just paid attention, and, once again, the Board was threatening to cut his funding. But all of that stress disappeared on Saturday morning as he saw his cheerful little android bounding up the stairs, swinging a large basket from one hand.
Boyd held up the basket as he approached. “Good morning, Papa Gyro! I brought ingredients for baklava today!”
“You’ve really been interested in baking lately.” Gyro smiled down at him. Boyd was an excellent chef. Gyro supposed it was because the android’s brain was able to follow recipes exactly, without getting distracted.
“Well, I can’t always do it at home because Doofus sometimes comes in and messes it up. Last time I tried to bake a cake he put a bunch of live ants in the batter when I wasn’t looking. They added protein and an interesting texture, but the acidity really threw off the flavor. Do you like baking, Papa Gyro?”
“Yes, though I’ve never made baklava. Usually pies. Wait a second. Flavor?.” Gyro stopped and looked at the android. “You weren’t built with taste receptors.”
“No, I wasn’t!” said Boyd cheerily. “But my other daddy installed them for me!”
“Your other daddy... Edwin?” Gyro stopped walking and stared at Boyd. Edwin Drake was a lawyer, or at least he had been before Doofus was born. He couldn’t possibly have the understanding of hardware to install taste receptors in an already advanced AI system.
“No, I didn’t say my other father, I said my other daddy . You know. Mr. Beaks?”
A shadow crossed Gyro’s face. “He’s not your father.”
“I said that.” Boyd blinked up at Gyro. “Mr. Drake is my father, Mr. Beaks is my daddy, and you are my papa.”
“Mark Beaks is not your official guardian, nor did he play any part in your creation!”
“No, but he did save me from the junkyard, and fixed the rusty gears in my elbow, and upgraded my network connectors so they connect to modern Wi-fi and Bluetooth systems.” Here, Boyd opened his mouth and pointed to the little blue tooth fitted in his lower beak. “And then we went out and had a lot of fun! When’s he going to come over here again, anyway?”
Gyro foot froze mid-way up the step and he stumbled, reaching for the stair handrail to steady himself. He’d been afrai that this question was coming.
A few weeks before, Gyro had made a serious lapse in judgement when he’d run into Mark Beaks at a Trivia Night hosted by the Duckburg Museum of Natural History . They’d been randomly placed on the same team, absolutely flattened the competition, and celebrated their win at the pub afterwards. The conversation had been a little too stimulating, the drinks a little too free-flowing, and Gyro had invited Mark back to his apartment. It had been joyous and sensual and almost certainly a mistake. This wasn’t the first time Gyro had a romantic dalliance with Mark Beaks- they had almost-dated many years ago, back when they were both students at the University of Hamsterdam. It hadn’t ended well. Despite this, Gyro’s physical attraction towards Mark had never completely disappeared. He’d tried for years to ignore his feelings, telling himself it was just an inconvenience of brain chemistry, nothing more.
But that night, he’d failed to suppress his desire, and in the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten that Boyd was due to visit the following morning. If the little android hadn’t been there, they could have both put the night behind them, and pretended it never happened.
Mark had texted Gyro, a few days later, asking if Gyro wanted to meet for dinner. Gyro had stared at it for days, unsure how to reply. Occasionally, he’d write out a few words’ response, sometimes positive, sometimes negative, always deleting before he hit ‘send’. Anyway, it had been almost a month. He couldn’t possibly reply now.
Besides, he didn’t want to date Mark Beaks. Yes, the Waddle CEO was intelligent, almost as intelligent as Gyro himself, but his petty, attention-seeking selfishness was not what Gyro wanted in a partner. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. And of course, Mark just had to be nice to Boyd. If he’d been a jerk, like he usually was, Boyd wouldn’t be asking to see him again. It must have been on purpose.
“Papa?” Boyd was still staring at him, and Gyro realized he hadn’t answered. “I was just asking if, maybe, we could spend time with him again sometime?”
“You don’t really want to get close to someone like him.” Gyro said finally. “Besides, I thought you wanted to bake today! And then we can try to teach Lil Bulb how to play trombone!”
“Oh yes! That sounds fun!” said Boyd.
Despite Gyro’s continued attempts at distraction, Boyd asked about Mark Beaks several more times over the next month. Eventually, Gyro ran out of excuses. “Fine, sure, I’ll send him a message.” Gyro pulled out his phone and took a few steps towards his bedroom, leaving Boyd to his game of Benzino Quest 3 .
He opened the texting app. The last communication from Mark was from the day after their Trivia Night win. Well, this was going to be uncomfortable no matter what. Might as well get it over with.
“Hello, I know this is awkward.” He typed, then deleted.
He scrolled up a bit. The previous set of messages had been exchanged months before. It was when Mark first found 2-BO in the junkyard. He’d realized the tech was complex, and actually asked for Gyro’s advice, which almost never happened. Of course, he didn’t listen to Gyro’s suggestions. Gyro had immediately told him to deactivate and dispose of the robot, but Mark insisted he could fix it. And for once, Mark had been right, Gyro thought, looking fondly at the child who was happily collecting digital stars on his sofa.
Gyro sighed. He wasn’t doing this for Mark, or for himself. He was doing this for Boyd.
He took a deep breath before starting to tap out a message. “Hello Marcus, Boyd wants to see you again.” No, that was too direct. He deleted again.
“Hey Mark, I know it’s been a little while since we’ve talked, but Boyd’s been asking about you.” That could work, but it still didn’t feel quite right.
“Actually,” Gyro finally said out loud, “Would you like to message him yourself?”
“Ok!” said Boyd. “Tell me if this sounds good:
‘Dear Mr. Beaks,
How are you? I am fine. Gyro is fine too. We had a lot of fun eating breakfast with you a few weeks ago. Would you like to get together again sometime? Gyro and I like to go to the park on Saturdays now that the weather is getting warmer. Would you like to meet us there someday? Hope you are well!
Sincerely, Boyd.’”
Mark Beaks was still asleep when his phone buzzed. He never woke up before noon on Saturdays. He tried not to wake up before noon on weekdays, either, though he couldn’t always get his schedule to work like that. You would think that if the CEO wanted to work from noon to 8 instead of from 9 to 5 he could, but between trying to keep up his 'friendly and approachable boss' persona and the fact that Waddle had several offices in different time zones, he found himself spending a lot more time in the office than he did at home. Then again, there wasn’t much to do at home. He lived alone, and the Waddle campus had everything he could possibly want for recreation- video games, dance studios, yoga classes, fancy little cafes… no reason to come home, really.
He still typically spent most weekends by himself, though. Well, physically alone anyway. In the digital world, a stimulating conversation was never far away. And online, he didn’t always have to be billionaire CEO Mark Beaks (though he still appreciated the love and adulation he got as himself). But when he wanted to be more anonymous, he could be. On the gaming forums, he was John Wells, a fan and streamer who only ever vaguely mentioned working in the tech industry. If he wanted to troll some politicians' pages, he’d be Joseph Porter. Reggie Bunthorne was for leaving snarky comments on recipe blogs (not that Mark ever actually cooked), and Jack Point wrote movie reviews laced with just enough profanity to keep things interesting.
Right now, though, the notification on his phone showed a message to his personal email address. Not his business address, not any of his alts, but Mark Beaks’ personal email. Very few people had access to that. And the spam filters didn’t let anything unwelcome through- he was certain of that, he’d coded them himself.
He grinned in spite of himself when he saw it was from Boyd. He would never admit it out loud, but he missed the kid. That weekend he’d spent with the robot boy had been one of the best of Mark’s life. Everyone else he hung out with always wanted something from him, usually either influence or money. Boyd just wanted to have fun.
He skimmed through the message, his heart doing an awkward somersault when he got to Gyro’s name. This was going to make things interesting. There were all sorts of things Mark said and did that made people question whether he was ‘Real Adult’, and usually that just meant they were boring old fogies who hated fun. But there was one thing he truly wished he had been able to outgrow- the crush he had on his best friend from college. He’d messed up big time, back then. But hey, it wasn't like his feelings for Gyro consumed his life or anything! He was attracted to other people, sometimes! Falcon Graves, for example, was jaw-droppingly sexy. It was a damn shame the man just seemed to see Mark as a nuisance.
He sighed, staring at the phone. Thirteen years of avoiding each other, and then one Trivia Night championship and he and Gyro had fallen into bed together. And Mark hadn’t even made the first move. It had felt so right, being together again. Then the morning had brought Boyd, unexpectedly clattering the dishes in the kitchen, and Gyro had dashed out of the room. Never even texted Mark back.
Well. He didn’t need Gyro Gearloose in his life anyway. He was doing fine. He could date other people, if he wanted to.
He couldn’t have another kid though. Not easily.
He really wanted to see Boyd again. He wanted to see Gyro again, too, he just wasn’t sure if he should .
He crawled out of bed, dressed, and started his espresso maker. He took a while deciding what to order for lunch. And then, he started to compose his message.