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Dragon Boy and E-Soul had been assigned missions in similar places, and now they’re both waiting in the same tiny ass warehouse for Rock to hurry up and send someone to take them back to MG.
They don’t speak to each other. Dragon Boy is somewhat grateful - he doesn’t particularly want to talk to a stuck-up, emotionless guy right now. He just eyes E-Soul, who acknowledges him with a curt nod. Boring. Dragon Boy walks to the corner of the room to throw stones at the wall to pass the time.
Except Dragon Boy is sure that they both realise something very, very quickly.
It’s fucking boiling in here.
After exactly three minutes of hot, insufferable silence, Dragon Boy decides that he’s had enough of his flimsy attempt at being civil to this old man E-Soul. Why not take the chance at entertainment while he has it?
He flops down onto the floor, sprawling his limbs out like a starfish. The concrete radiates warmth into his skin. “Could it get any fucking hotter in here? Feels like I'm gonna burn alive.”
E-Soul is silent. Tough crowd, huh?
Dragon Boy notes that he’s maintaining the same position he held since they had arrived. Back straight, standing to attention a couple paces in front of the metal door that’s practically radiating with heat from the weather outside.
Dragon Boy takes his stillness as an invitation to keep talking. “No one’s here to bark orders at you, so why’re you standing like you've got a stick up your ass?” he grins, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light.
Again, Dragon Boy is met with silence. Okay, well, now he has to get a response - or all this effort will have been for nothing! (yikes dude take the hint) He continues, “Isn’t it hot in there? It's gotta be. They haven't put an aircon in that thing, have they? Though I wouldn’t be surprised…”
He trails off, raising an expectant eyebrow at the hero clad in metal.
“...They haven’t,” E-Soul says. Although robotic, Dragon Boy can already hear the twinge of annoyance lacing into his otherwise monotone voice.
Dragon Boy laughs with delight. “And so he speaks!”
E-Soul doesn’t reply. Instead, he shifts his weight and tilts up the edge of his helmet just slightly.
Dragon Boy can’t stop the noise of surprise that leaves his mouth. That’s new.
The electric hero fixes him with an unreadable look. “Turn around,” he says. It’s not a request.
Dragon Boy huffs, but rolls onto his side to stare at the wall anyway. After a moment, he hears the helmet come off entirely.
“Aren’t you like, not meant to take that thing off?”
“Yeah.”
His voice sounds a lot clearer. He’s not a robot, then. Well, if he was, then he must be very good at copying human voices. Robots overheat too, don’t they?
"Don't tell Rock," he says. There’s wariness in his voice, laced with something else. Fear?
"Relax, I’m not a snitch,” Dragon Boy rolls his eyes. “That old bastard wouldn’t be too happy, would he?” They both know the answer. E-Soul is a brand, not a person. Letting anyone - even heroes from MG - see him exposed is a death wish.
“Don’t refer to him that way.”
Dragon Boy sighs dismissively in reply. He rolls back onto his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. If he really wanted to, E-Soul had plenty of time to turn away or put his helmet back on. But he doesn’t, a motionless figure in the corner of his vision.
Dragon Boy finally lets his head loll over to face E-Soul.
Huh.
If it were anyone else, Dragon Boy might have prodded, might have made snarking comments or prying questions about the numerous scars that littered his face and undoubtedly his body too.
He doesn’t bother, though. It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t observed the newcomer (at the time) that seemed to suck up all of Rock’s time and attention for a couple weeks. And even after those first weeks, it was clear that Rock deemed him competent - he was staying for good. That didn’t usually happen.
Choppy, blue-black hair spills out over E-Soul’s armoured neck and shoulders. He looks younger than expected. Exhausted, too, but that part doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Deep blue eyes meet his, and flick away just as quickly. As if he’s nervous. Interesting.
“You’re staring,” E-Soul reminds him. His fingers grip the edge of the helmet like it’s going to disappear if he lets go.
Dragon Boy doesn’t hold back his huff of amusement. “It’s rare anyone gets to see the face under the mask. Actually, it never happens, does it?”
“No. I don’t see it much either,” E-Soul mutters. He seems disgusted by something. Dragon Boy can’t tell what.
He understands, though. The feeling of being chained. Not that Rock ever placed such restrictions on him. He always roamed the streets bare-chested, barefoot, and mostly did whatever the fuck he wanted before Rock found out he had caused too much trouble and summoned him back.
The rules must come with the whole ‘inheriting E-Soul’ thing. Gotta live up to the previous standards.
Dragon Boy dismisses the thought and decides to entertain himself some more. No harm, right?
“So what do you actually do,” he says, “when you’re not doing this.”
“Training. Mission briefings. Meetings. Reviewing-”
“No, I mean- outside of this,” He gestures vaguely at the suit of armour. “What do you do?”
“What?”
Dragon Boy sighs in exasperation. “I didn’t know someone could be so dense,” he mutters under his breath, yet surely loud enough for E-Soul to hear. “Do you have hobbies? Favourite show? Favourite food? Favourite colour?” He doesn’t know why he keeps pushing.
E-Soul genuinely seems to be malfunctioning. Like a robot that’s been overloaded with information. Maybe he is a robot.
“Blue,” he manages to say.
Dragon Boy levels him with a deadpan stare. “Blue. E-Soul’s signature colour.” It’s like he can’t even think for himself. Something about it pisses him off.
“...Yes.” E-Soul answers him just as flatly.
“Fine! Whatever. You have anything else to share with the class?” He gestures grandly at the empty warehouse they’re situated in.
E-Soul looks down at his prosthesis as if it holds all the answers in the universe.
There’s a long stretch of silence before he finally says, “Theatre.”
Dragon Boy blinks. Of all the things. “Theatre,” he parrots.
“I used to act in children’s theatre,” E-Soul says.
Wow. Dragon Boy squints back up at the ceiling. When did he stop throwing pebbles? He reaches for another for his fingers to fiddle with.
“Did you like it?” He asks, and immediately has no idea why he did.
E-Soul is silent for long enough that Dragon Boy doesn’t think he’s going to answer. That’s okay. Great, even. He’s been through worse than awkward silences with weird armoured men in hot warehouses.
“I did,” he finally hears.
Dragon Boy hums in response and throws the pebble, watching it skitter away.
E-Soul opens his mouth like he’s going to elaborate but closes it again. When he speaks, his voice is measured and steady - he’s put the helmet back on, even if only metaphorically. He almost sounds robotic again.
“But I’ll be forever grateful for the opportunity to save and protect others. Being E-Soul is more than I could ever wish for.”
Dragon Boy fixes him with a look of disgust. “What the fuck? Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking like that. It’s creepy.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes it is. You were fine, like,” Dragon Boy waves a hand dismissively, “a minute ago. Before you put on the interview voice.”
E-Soul genuinely considers this. “Thank you for appreciating my interview skills?”
Dragon Boy puts up a hand, motioning for the idiot to shut up. There’s no way this guy is real. “Okay, stop. Who’s interviewing you? The rats? … Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
E-Soul’s lips twitch upwards, a faint hint of a smile, and he huffs out a noise that could barely be described as a laugh. Dragon Boy catches the expression and feels a twinge of something in his chest.
He forces his eyes away and picks at the floor next to him. “Well. Anyway.” He blows a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Just talk normal. I told you, I’m not a snitch.”
“I am talking ‘normal’.”
“No you aren’t.”
“This is how I talk.”
“It isn’t.” Dragon Boy thinks back to before. “I know how you talk.”
“Yeah, this is how I talk,” E-Soul insists.
Dragon Boy doesn’t reply. He takes a stone and chucks it straight at E-Soul’s face.
With lightning-fast reflexes, E-Soul’s arm comes up. The pebble bounces off his armoured wrist with a hollow clang. Zero damage.
E-Soul stares at him, bewildered.
“...What was that for?”
“Fun.”
Armoured shoulders slump in defeat as E-Soul laughs in disbelief. “What even?- I’m not even going to ask.”
Dragon Boy faintly decides that he likes that expression on him. The laughter. “You can hit me back, if you want,” he suggests, pointing to the pile of rocks that he’s curated during their stay.
“I appreciate it, but I’ll pass.” E-Soul replies dryly, but there’s a smile on his face.
Dragon Boy shrugs, smirking. “Your loss.”
Blue meets violet again, and now Dragon Boy feels like he should be the one looking away.
The silence settles again. It isn’t too awkward this time. Even though it is still boiling, and Dragon Boy can feel himself denaturing by the second, he distantly realises that he wouldn’t mind staying for longer.
Of course, pickup does arrive eventually. The low rumble of the engine outside tells them it’s time to leave.
E-Soul picks up his helmet, almost hesitantly, and slips it back on. His posture straightens again and he almost looks like the E-Soul that greeted him when they first arrived. But this time, when he nods, his eyes smile at Dragon Boy too, before the neon visor snaps over the remaining sliver of his face.
Dragon Boy finds himself flashing his teeth back at him as they both face the slowly rising warehouse door.
“Yang Cheng,” E-Soul says from beside him.
“Huh?” He turns.
“My name.” E-Soul, or Yang Cheng, says.
“Yang Cheng,” Dragon Boy repeats, testing the syllables on his tongue. Hm. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than E-Soul, that’s for sure.
There’s a beat of silence.
“What’s your name?” Yang Cheng asks, like he needs something to say.
“You know it already.”
“...Oh. That’s your name?”
Dragon Boy clasps his hands behind his head and scoffs. “That’s the only name I know.”
“Well. I like it,” Yang Cheng murmurs.
Dragon Boy raises an eyebrow. “The fuck? My abilities aren’t even dragon related- nothing about me is dragon related at all!”
“Your hair- you have spiky hair,” Yang Cheng replies, a hand pressed to the chin of his helmet like he’s genuinely deep in thought.
“And?” Dragon Boy cocks his head.
“Dragons are… spiky. Right?”
Dragon Boy throws his head back and laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of it. “You’re stupid.” He shoves Yang Cheng’s armoured shoulder. It doesn’t affect him in the slightest.
Yang Cheng huffs in mock annoyance. “Don’t treat your senior like that. I know I’m older than you.”
Dragon Boy just laughs again in response, and they step out into the light together.