Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

God dammit, was everything always this way? Was it always like this? No, no it wasn't. He knows that. He always knew that. His very own memory storage is literally coded into his hard drive after all.

Sometimes he doesn't understand, weirdly enough because he's perfect. That's fine. That's always fine. He's Bender. That's all he ever needs to be. That's all he ever wants to be. There's no need for a change.

Just lovable old Bender.

But...

Sometimes?

Just...sometimes—

He wished he were different. 

He wishes that he wouldn't steal. He wishes that he wasn't a criminal. He wishes that he wasn't a liar. He wishes he's not a sarcastic bastard. He wishes that he's not this fake masking persona he puts on. 

No. No, he's thinking too much. That's bad. That's bad to wish for that. That's outright outrageous to even dream of that.

Yet, in every single dream where he reshapes his own perfect world, there's something strange that always occurs. There was always orange hair, green eyes, that bright, bright smile. A familiar hand resting firmly on his grey shoulder plate to keep him and his own mind grounded. To not do things that would harm, that would kill, that would destroy. There was always him. 

Maybe, he needs help. He's tried to sign up for therapy before after all. Yet, no one would take him in.

Because why would a robot need therapy? 

It was stupid. Laughable, even. Hell, he even finds himself chuckling at such an idiotic thought. Robots don't have minds. Their brains work the way they're programmed and wired to perform. Just an AI that was not in control of itself but instead is a prisoner to what it is designed to do.

Almost like a slave. 

He hates it. 

His fingers twitch and cross over one another as a stim. Since he couldn't really see a medical profession or someone in the field of psychology, he had to diagnose himself. He was outgoing, a party fanatic. Still, the results pulled up and every single symptom he had punched him right in whatever kept him alive.

He would care. 

There it was again. He just popped in, no matter what, didn't he? Every single train of thought getting interrupted with his opinions. With what he would do in a situation. 

Every thought he had of ending his own life time and time again? He was there. 

And for good reason to. After all, Bender wouldn't be here if this idiot hadn't saved his life that day. Honestly, he wonders what would have happened. 

Would it have all been the same?

Would anything have changed? 

There's still no permanent solution to this. To be fair, he didn't really want to know either. He's completely fine with life just the way it is. Even if it sometimes doesn't appeal to his liking. 

Fuck.

He's doing it again.

Why can't he stop?

Why does everything have to be about himself?

He focuses in on his breathing. He doesn't need to breathe, but it was comforting to do it anyways. In and out. It was fascinating to see air form as he exhaled when it was cold out instead of warm. Interesting almost, like you'd never expect to see such a thing in your life but here you are. 

He hates himself. He really does. No matter how unbelievable it sounds, it's the truth. No matter how many times he denied it, the real answer stayed in his head, stuck and ready to reveal itself but pushed back each time because he just couldn't fucking admit it. It was just embarrassing. No, it was downright humiliating. 

Alcohol. Yeah, that's a great idea. Alcohol would help get his thought process straight. Plus, he was getting low in battery anyways, and oil grade fuel only did so much, and by so much, that meant little. He never used oil fuel because it didn't really charge him, if anything, you'd think it was draining him faster instead. He goes back inside from the balcony, shutting the door imbedded into the window behind him and locking it quietly. He didn't want to wake Fry, as strange as that was. He always strangled the man in his sleep, it was kind of hilarious how much oxygen humans needed. He sort of felt bad afterwards though, so he always takes Fry out to a bar and the moron forgets all about it. 

He opens the fridge door, the bright light illuminating the front of his body in bare pastel yellow. Ah, only four more bottles. And there's also barely anything in the fridge that's left for his human to eat too. He needs to go out shopping again.

He pops the cap off a bottle, shutting the door of the giant cooler behind him with his footcup. He takes a long swig, feeling the heat of the pleasant burn warm up his chilling circuits. Weird how he can't taste but can feel, it was one of those inconsistencies that just didn't really make since but no one complained about because it was stupid to argue with.

Another swig. He needs to learn to slow down. There was a time when he chugged a bottle and his whole insides were on fire, overheating him and forcing him to enter full reboot mode. Fuck, did that hurt. Why were robots built to feel pain anyways? Did Mom just do it for her own sadistic pleasure? Most likely, Bender nods. 

This time, he took a slower and small sip. It wasn't as thick and pleasant as he would of liked it to be, but it was better for his own safety. His yellow optics shift to look at the human on the bed. Peaceful. 

Envy. 

Why does this human get everything? Why does this dumbass have a better life? Why does he...

Stop. He forced himself to stop. He was getting mad for no reason. He takes another slow sip, but it turned into a swig. Shit. 

He puts the bottle down, his fuel intake had already raised up to 100% by the number flashing in the corner of his screen. He walks over to his own bed, which was separated by the bedside table in between the two. He looks at the time on...what are these called? His human told him once. Oh, right, analog clocks. Such a weird device.

6:34 am. 

His optics widen into large circles. He's been awake for that long? Jesus. He's going to be exhausted by morning, work was only six more hours away after all. 

He groans and flops his faceplate into his pillow, muffling a scream. His arms resting on both sides of the mattress. He hears his human shift in the bed, but ultimately stay asleep. He sighs and shuts his visor, entering his own version of sleep mode. Maybe in the morning, it'll all be okay. Although, he knew it wouldn't.

The sun had risen and was peeking through the curtains of their giant window. Bender usually heard the clanking of the toaster by now, but it was absent. He opens his visor, his optics flicking on like an old retro TV screen. Then he looks around. 

Fry wasn't in view. Maybe he's in the bathroom? Bender swings his footcups over the bed and stretches before he stood up. He walks over to the bathroom door and knocks. No answer. He tries the doorknob. Unlocked. 

He pushes the door open, the lights were off, the shower wasn't running and neither was the sink. He looks around the apartment for a once-over and finds a note taped on their closet door, or the front door depending on the context.

"Dear Bender, 

I let you sleep in, buddy! You looked kinda tired and I swore I could hear you pacing last night in my dreams or something. It was also weird when I didn't wake up being smothered by a pillow. Haha! Anyways, it's 12:00 in the morning, so I'm at work by the time you probably wake up. Hope you had a good rest! I made those waffles you love and left them in the refrigerator, we gotta get you taste sensors, I swear. Maybe we'll have one of those cabbage fights later if you're up for it. Anyways, I hope to see you at work soon! Love ya, bud!

- Your best friend, Fry"

The robot blinks as he takes the note down, feeling it in his trapezoid-shaped palms. So Fry was already at work. He usually gets up late. Well, that's mostly because of Bender. He puts the note aside on a table by their couch and walks over to the fridge. Yep, there were the waffles. 

He takes them out and puts them in the microwave for thirty seconds. He didn't know why he did, he could eat them cold. He guesses that something about doing human activities just were ingrained into his system by now.

"Love ya, bud?" He thought with question. Was it a metaphor that best friends usually did or did it mean something else. Maybe he was just taking it too seriously. He shook his head to erase the thought as the microwave beeping snapped him out of it. He presses the large button on the black box and the door swings open, nearly pounding him in the chest compartment. He backs up, flinching.

God. 

He could see the smoke trail from the waffles. Fry had made them just the way he liked them, like always. He gently pushes his hands underneath the plate and lifts it to bring it over to the couch, planting the plate next to the note. Weirdly enough, there was also the bottle of alcohol he didn't finish last night near the two items he had placed. Fry must've found it. 

The robot plops himself on the couch and shovel the waffles inside his opened mouthplate before closing it back down, literally inhaling the things. He didn't need to chew after all. Bender finished the food in seconds then washed the plates in the sink.

Hey, he could be civilized sometimes. 

Time to go into work. He grabs the rest of the alcohol in the fridge, stores them in his storage compartment, picks up the opened bottle then locks the front door behind him. Can't have his stolen valuables getting...well, stolen. Ironic. 

He travels down the hall and to the elevator, clicking the down button as he hears the common 'ding' sound. The silver doors open as he steps inside and taps the ground floor while the doors shut with him inside. This would take a minute. 

The box starts it's descent downwards and the first movement spikes up his metaphorical heart rate. He clutches where his chest would be and controls his breathing.

Sometimes it's not fun to mimic these behaviors. It's forced. His body makes him do it because of natural response to research on psychological topics. He taps on his metal body once, then twice, then three times and looks at what he could see. 

Buttons. The doors. The floor. The three walls. The changing numbers.

Five things completed. His vision returns to normal, no more distortion. He could finally control himself and he stops the copied breathing. He lets out a sigh of relief. Or was it annoyance? Maybe both. 

The elevator makes that dinging sound again. He looks up at the numbers. "0," he hums to himself as the doors open with a heavy scraping sound that's too loud to his own mind. He takes his hands off the sides of his head and walks out.

"Bye Barry," he waves at one of the hotel employees at the counter. The robot responds with a chirping beep, waving back to him, "bye Bender!"

He wished he could be that enthusiastic today, but it was just turning out bad already. Sure, it started off with the famous waffles and Fry making sure he has the stuff he needs. It wasn't until he stepped out onto the streets that things turned bad.

Gunshots. Police sirens. Glass breaking. Beggars. Plus, it was raining, smudging and dirtying his new paint job that he got done the other day. He was still sleep deprived too. His systems needed the shutdowns that equaled to a humans eight hours, but he didnt do it last night.

What a perfect day, huh? 

He rubs at his optics, trying to wipe away the rain drops but they just blurred his vision. "Fuck," he whispers. He now navigates with his hands, trying to sharpen his vision enough to actually make out certain things that get in his way. 

The robot is suddenly flung backwards and he lands on his ass. He growled in anger and looked up, a random human. "Watch where the fuck you're going," she curses at him and continues on her path, "useless pieces of junk..."

It just makes Bender angrier. His hands clench into balled fists, his mind trying to remind him to not get mad. Yet, it didn't help. He stood up, "bite my shiny metal ass, lady! Actually, go fuck yourself with a dildo! Bet your slut ass would enjoy it better than your husbands small dick!" 

She turned around and gasped, both offended and ticked off. Bender didn't really care. He was too pissed to care. He could've swung, but that would of just made his day ten times worse than it already was. Getting beat up by a lady? Not his cup o' tea. Instead, he just gave her a sharp glare, turned on the heel of his footcup and continued down his path. He was still fuming by the point when he could see the Planet Express building sitting on the next street. 

He stormed over and walked through the doors with a push. He had to forcefully maneuver his arms into a calm state so he didn't slam them into the wall and break the two. He didn't want to get fined by the professor today anyways. This time, he walks the stairs up to the employee lounge. He could see the ship was still here from just walking through the conference, or meeting, room. 

The doors open for him as he stops on like a moody cartoon character, his arms at his sides, his back slouching slightly. He crosses his arms and sits on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on All My Circuits. Great. A rerun that he hated.

Oh this couldn't possibly get any worse. 

Except, it did get worse. A lot worse. Literally almost everyone entered at the same time. His optics glitched out slightly, one twitching. His opened alcoholic beverage slipped from his hand and shattered onto the floor, creating a mess of shards and liquid. He forced a scream back. His mind felt like it was pounding in on itself from how much talking there was in the room. It was really just friends hanging out, but to him, it felt like hell.

Could robots even get migraines? Because it sure felt like he was having one.

His temper rose. It climbed higher and higher. The teapot kettle screaming in high pitch. It felt like he was spinning in circles, draining the life out of him as all whatever kind of blood he had rushed into his cpu and caused a flatline. He couldn't control it this time.

"CAN EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!?" 

It all paused. Everyone staring at him. Oh, how he hated it. He would've loved to be the center attention, but this felt different. Like everyone was judging him. Everyone's eyes on him like he appeared out of nowhere. His breathing got fast again, but he didn't do it aloud. There was too much pride in him to do such an act. He got off the couch and left the room as quick as he could. Calming his breathing once again, Bender felt dizzy. It was like he was going to pass out. He sits on the floor of the hallway and bangs his fists against his head, before slamming it backwards into the wall.

The deprivation seemed to have caught up to him as well, as he blanked out completely shortly after.

"So uh, what the hell was that?" Amy blinks, looking around the room. Nobody answered. To be honest, nobody knew. 

Fry walks into the room a bit after the question, "hey guys, ready for a movie nigh-" he looks at everybody, confused. "Did something happen while I was gone getting popcorn?" 

"Uh, yes actually, mon," Hermes pipes up, "Bender was sitting on the couch and then the bottom just screams at everyone to shut up, we all stared at him waiting for an answer to why he did it but then he just runs away!" 

The redhead blinks, setting down the bowl of popcorn, as his leg starts to bounce slightly, his body then going into a sway mode, "really?"

Everyone nods. "It's like he saw Zoidberg or something," Leela explains. 

"Hey Fry, my boy?" The professor puts a hand on the gingers shoulder, "how about you check on him, you two are quite inseparable and if anyone would know what's going on and get that imbecile to open up, it's you." 

"Yeah, I'll...go check on him," Fry says and walks out the door that leads to the conference room. He finds Bender instantly, knocked out and muttering, "kill all humans," repeatedly. Fry immediately concludes that Bender's sleeping. He must of been right when he guessed that the robot had a rough night.

He sits down beside the bending unit, waiting for his best friend to wake up. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. He taps his foot until he can hear a groggy moan. Green eyes look to the left of him, "hey, buddy? You awake now?" 

"Fry?" 

"Yeah, it's me, bud," the human smiles at the robot. He loved calling Bender, "buddy", it's one of those nicknames you give to a bro, but it's sweet enough to give to someone special like a pet. "You pass out?"

Bender thinks for a moment, then shrugs, "I guess I did. You know how long?" 

"Maybe for fifteen minutes?" 

Bender hums in response to Fry's answer. The human placed his hand on the back of the bending units own which was flat palmed against the floor. Fry notes that the robot jumped slightly at the contact.

"The hell are you doing?" Bender grumbles, pulling his hand away immediately. He was twitching and his body was strangely warming up. 

Fry blinks, confused, "Trying to comfort you?" 

"Oh," Bender rubs the back of his head, shyly. Shy? This asshole was never shy. "That's out of character for him", Fry thinks.

They sat in complete silence for an awkward period of time. Bender broke it, "some lady bumped into me while I was walking to work." 

"Did she apologize?"

"No." 

"That's kinda rude."

"She said robots were useless pieces of garbage. I got mad, said some really violent stuff and stormed off," Bender continued. 

Fry tilts his head, "no fights this time?"

"I've been working on my temper." 

The human smiles. He's so happy that Bender was working on himself since they've talked about it. "Proud of you, bud."

"Gee, thanks, I'm so happy you are proud of me," Bender rolls his eyes.

Sarcastic. He knew Bender didn't truly mean it. Bender was just like this. A complete jerk with a lovable heart. 

"Anyways, I yelled at everybody to shut up. It was just too loud to me. I didn't like it, so I nearly had a overstimulated meltdown," Bender finished, "that's why I left the room."

"Ah," Fry nodded in understanding. The silent returned for a split second before he spoke back up, "do you wanna join us for movie night? We're watching Godzilla!" 

Bender sighs, "why the hell not, maybe it'll calm me down. Or at least make my day slightly better."

Chapter Text

Fry lets his arm rest around Bender's neckplate and shoulders, he's close to him but not to be in the robots own personal space. He knew his best friend well. Bender would snap if he even dared go near his optics. The human knew that by the several bite marks on his own skin, bruised and red. 

"You doing better?" The ginger asks in a hushed tone. The bot avoids eye contact, but nods slightly, "a little." 

The human hums slightly, "are you fine with the way I'm touching you?" He needs to make sure. Sometimes, Bender would become uncomfortable with certain areas of touching when the other members of Planet Express were around. Another nod. 

Bender wants to cuddle up close to the human, to lay on the idiots chest and nuzzle into the soft skin of his belly through that greasy pizza-stained shirt, but there were people around. Plus, he wanted to maintain his dignity for the rest of his damn life. Being vulnerable at any given moment surrounded by other individuals was not an optional choice. He feels his heat gauge rising, but not in a way where he would think he had an illness, no, nothing of the sort. The bending unit knew he was blushing. Fry didn't know this, that's what mattered though. 

The movie was playing in the background but neither were paying attention to it. Mostly, just Fry checking on Bender and paying attention to his needs.

It was nice. Really nice. Being pampered like this, if you could even call it that. He shrugs Fry off for a second, giving him a glare when the meathead suddenly frowns and makes a gesture to say "why did you do that?" 

He opens his chest compartment and takes out that same opened bottle of alcohol, finishing it before he takes another fresh one out. He tosses the empty bottle in the trashcan, making a perfect landing from where he sat on the couch. Leela was already getting on his case by him littering, he didnt need her screaming at him today when he was already in the worst mood imaginable. Bender opens the bottle and nodded his head in a way to say, "you can put it back now."

Fry, luckily, gets the hint and resumes his original position. He lays his head on the robots neckplate.

"Is this okay?" He whispers. Bender hesitates, thinking a moment before nodding for a third time, "yes."

Good. That's good. 

The internal battle in Bender's head was not quieting down. In fact, it was getting louder by the tick of a second. He wasn't actually gay, was he? Sure, he dated Calculon before, but that was when he was Coilette, a fembot. He doesn't recall anybody of the male origin that he dated. Even then, none of them actually felt right, or he just didn't care about gender at all. He dated what he liked.

Still, dating a man while he was a manbot? That very thought was almost downright unthinkable. Disgusting. He didn't want it to make him feel like he was going to vomit. There was nothing wrong with it. 

Was he just not used to it? 

That must be it. Why else would it do this to him? He knew he wasn't gay, but the thought interested him. He also knew he wasn't exactly straight nor this sexuality that the meatbags note as bisexual.

Is there a term for this? Dating those who you have no clear gender preferences over?

Perhaps there was. He shuts his visor for a moment and goes onto the web, typing up his question in the search bar and hitting enter internally. A pink, yellow and blue flag came up.

"Pansexual? Is this what I'm feeling?" 

It felt right for some reason. Felt really right. Like he didn't have to worry about being called gay but he also didn't have to stick to the norm to be called straight. Neither did he have to go towards a path where most people go as bisexual. He felt original, unique. He likes this label. 

The unit opens his visor after saving the term to his personality files. Fry was staring at him worried. He jolts backwards, the human way too close to his face for his own liking, "back up!" He keeps as quiet as he can.

No one notices the two or at least, it's what they think, because a certain purple haired mutant does see them perform this little action. She deadpans tiredly with this sort of knowing look before refocusing her attention back towards the roaring tv. 

Fry blinks, then it registers. He apologizes profusely, upset that he had violated Bender's own zones. The robot doesn't seem happy by the countless "sorry's."

"Jeez, meatball, stop apologizing already, you're giving me a damn headache. It's not your fault." 

The human blinks, his green eyes watery, his face cute and puffy from nearly crying his eyes out over "hurting" the robot, "are you sure, buddy?" 

Bender felt his unnecessary breathing hitch, his square pupils shrinking ever so slightly, "uh, ye-yeah, you're fine, dumbass." 

He looks away and muffled a scream beneath his free hand that wasn't being leaned on, "is this bastard trying to short-circuit me!?" 

Fry wipes at his eyes and calms down, taking a soft breath to calm his own nerves that were spiking up and down, "okay." He chuckles nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck, "I kind of forgot about what you're comfortable with and what you're not for a minute." 

"It's...fine."

The human raised an eyebrow, "no insult with that sentence?"

"Shut up, I'm just...trying something new, I guess," Bender growls, his voice box stalling for a second, sputtering nonsense. 

The ginger giggles and squeezes the robot a little tighter. Not that Bender could really feel it though. He wished he could. The alcohol lay resting on a table beside the couch where Bender sat. The bot shifts his position so one of his legs rests over the other and he's now crossing his arms in a pouting child sort of way. 

After a while, the credits roll and the lights turn back on. The sky outside was still grey and cloudy. Rain drops staining the window. It didn't look like there would be a chance for any heists tonight, unfortunately. Everybody gets up from their seat and resumes their daily tasks. Fry and Bender stay seated on the couch. There would probably be no deliveries today either, launching the ship in this weather would be too much of a risk to try. So it was an easy day today, sit there and do basically nothing. 

Awkward silence. Something Bender quite hated ever since it's happened so often. It was just so painful with no one talking, he's used to noise around him, whether that noise be police sirens, clanking of iron bars against prison cages, gunfire, conversations while in meetings, tv backgrounds, and more. He guesses it's just something he had grown more accustomed to and now could not function properly without. 

Bender suddenly felt that wave of exhaustion hit him all at once, painfully so. Shit. He forgot he was tired, now it was all rushing back. His optics dropped slightly so they were lidded in a way, and he seems to be staring at nothing. His visor suddenly closed and he fell into shutdown. 

Fry stares at the robot, "again, huh? Knew you didn't sleep last night." 

He gets up from his position. Bender, not being able to be supported by leaning on something anymore, falls over onto his side, his arm lazily spread over his head while the other was tucked underneath him, hanging off the couch. The human goes to the closet, opening it up before grabbing a soft medium-sized blanket. This would work. He walks back over to Bender and covers the bending unit up, tucking the blanket around him so he was cozy. 

Fry paused, then he leans down and kisses the robots head. Bender wouldn't know. It didn't matter. Yet, it did all at the same time.

Whatever. May as well see what Leela is up to.