"H-how long has it been?" The remake of X asked himself, small hand unconsciously touching in between his legs. If it was still there, why had it not been working? The reploid thought back to the last time he'd had sex, with Fefnir, he reminded himself in mixed contempt and wistfulness. That had been almost four weeks ago, and his dearest Feffy had been spending too much time with Zero. He despised that guardian more than Mavericks ever since he claimed that Copy was not the exact replication of X. He would never admit to being probably weaker, though he had already lost to Zero once-pure luck, Copy X always said. "How c-can Fefnir stand such m-mis-misguided insolence from that n-n-nasty little tact-tactless sad excuse f-for-for a- hey!" Hopeful eyes cast down to his suddenly tingling member. Sadly, tingling was all it was doing. "Curses! Leave it up t-to Ceil to re-re-re-recreate a defective reploid!" He clenched his fists, as he did all too often lately. "I am leader of th-the four g-guar-guardians. I am a juh-genius. I am bet-etter and stronger than the origin-n-nal X! Why is my penis so unresponsive? - O-ow," Now he'd done it; squeezing his manhood till it pulsed unpleasantly was just the thing to do to ensure that it never worked again.
He could go to Fefnir, right? Of c-course not, he thought almost immediately. Copy X could hear him already, laughing, calling him names-limp noodle, most likely. And Weil-well, little more than a few words had passed between them since he'd outed himself about the porn. Copy shuddered some; he doubted Weil's noodle was ever limp. They spent practically all of their time avoiding each other- the reploid in his room, trying to-um-resolve an issue; the doctor in his lab, Copy X prayed, working. Like it mattered; Dr. Weil deserved the silent treatment after daring to threaten his beloved fighting dragon.
Your beloved fighting dragon who hasn't called since he last fucked you.
I'm sure he's been busy, being a guardian and everything.
You mean, busy screwing a guardian, like Zero. His rational mind was becoming more of an ass since the virus. Copy shook his head, though the thought had occurred to him before. So Fefnir really could be cheating. And how unfair that would be; Copy X couldn't even get it up to screw anyone else. Life was hard. Too bad my cock's not. He looked down, scorn on his face and tongue. "St-stupid-id, worthle-less prick. And stupid p-penis, too." Sure, Fefnir, valiant commander of the Army of Ash and Flames, had been unquestioningly loyal to X, but was this true about his loyalty to X's copy? As soon as he got it together, he'd call Fefnir and give him hell. Maybe he could ask Weil for an update, or something? If he can make his dick longer, surely he could make it perform. Anyway, it was his only hope; he'd have to play nice.
The reploid knocked on the door to the lab, listening for signs that the doctor was in (moaning, perhaps). Another shudder. "D-duh-doctor Weil? Are you, uh, w-work-working in there?" No answer. Actually, it was completely quiet. Copy poked his head in, taking no chances of walking in on something. But it was empty of humans, reploids, at least from the look of it. The lab itself was as vast as the rest of the castle, yet not nearly as spacious. Every inch of every table was covered in paper, forbidding-looking books, maps-mostly of Neo Arcadia. Furniture made of old scrap metal and destroyed Mavericks was placed helter-skelter about. Copy couldn't help being reminded of the human's Holocaust where men called Nazis, he heard, used the skin of people to decorate. In any case, the disorganization of it all irked the crap out of him. On one side of the room, he noticed, Weil kept his bottles, flasks of every shape and size. It was a typical mad scientist's dream laboratory, except that the one in question was bright and sterile. Flowers (mostly alive) were even placed in pots beneath the biggest window which overlooked the deepest lake in NA, an attempt at some classic floral décor-much more comforting, the reploid thought, than the furniture. Though he had not been inside since his creation, not a single detail of the place surprised Copy X. It was fascinating all the same. His eyes swept over the ceilings and floors, both a shade of blue about the color of Weil's keen eyes.
And then something made the loudest bang he'd ever heard, sending him into a twitching frenzy. He waited for the nagging spiel of Weil, knew he'd never be allowed back in the lab. (A damn shame, too, because this was his birthplace and he'd hoped to explore it further.) Until he saw the reflection of lights behind him, heard a massive machine starting up. He turned, slightly relieved, but what he saw quickly turned his relief into confusion. Several pieces of what looked like reploid armor were being fed out onto a conveyer belt. "What is this, s-s-suh-ome k-kind of factory?" That's when he noticed the color of the metal pieces: the exact red of Fefnir's.
"What the hell? What are you doing in here!" Dr. Weil looked foreign with his eyes squinted more than usual, anger flaring brightly behind the blue. "N-n-nuh-nuh-nothing, doctor." Copy X stuttered harsher under the glare. "N-nuh-nuh-nuh-nothing, eh?" He mocked, his gaze falling suspiciously behind the reploid. His eyes narrowed until they were slits and no blue could be seen. "What do you want, Master X?" Copy dared not look behind him, though he wanted to badly. "I-I-I-I-I j-just w-wan-wanted-"
It was now or never, and better to tell him so he didn't think Copy X untrustworthy. "I w-was wonder-ering if you c-could give me an upgrade. Suh-Ceil clearly s-screw-screwed up my c-coding." Weil eyed him, contemplating. "What for?" He said at last. Copy blushed. "Well? Out with it."
"I have been h-having praw-problems with my um… S-s-see, I…" he couldn't bring himself to do it. But Dr. Weil was looking at him expectantly. "I c-can't can't get-et it up." As soon as the words were out Weil's eyes widened and then shut as he was thrown into a fit of laughter. "M-maybe-oh God, that's rich- you sh-should," he snorted, not mocking this time but legitimately having trouble speaking in between bouts of laughter, "try Viagra," he finished, and Copy X, burning with fury, began storming out. "Oh wait, wait." Copy stopped at the door without looking at the doctor. As suddenly as he started laughing, he had stopped and his voice became threateningly serious. "Never enter my lab again-especially when I'm not inside it." The reploid was not about to argue with that tone, Master or no. He retreated to his own bedroom to-of course-brood.
"That was fucking fantastic." He was standing in front of his mirror, gaze below his waist. "Didn't even grab any porn," he muttered. Although that, he knew, wouldn't have helped anything. Just knowing that sick old bastard got off to it would kill any chances of a boner. "And so," Copy sighed, "ends the sex life of one soft reploid."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that."
The sound of Weil's voice behind him-the innuendo only adding to the blue reploid's revulsion-made Copy X's eye twitch. "What do you want?"
"I thought you'd be happier to see me."
"Why the hell would I-" but his words died off as he spun around. It was certainly not Weil who stood in the doorway. "Feffy!"
"That's more like it," the red guardian smiled. "Now come here."
"I swear, it's ee-eery how g-good your impression of Dr. Weil is," he said, burying his face in Fefnir's chest. "Oh is it?" Weil's voice again. Copy X almost got chills. "Y-you s-seriously-ly can't duh-duh-do that when I have my a-arms around you." His lover chortled, but relented. "I'm sorry for not coming around," he said in Copy's ear. Copy X had almost forgotten, pushing the taller reploid away. "W-why did you not c-call me? I am your Master. Your j-juh-job is to protec-protect me."
"My job," his voice was low as he replied, "is to protect Neo Arcadia." The small reploid's red pupils flashed. "E-excuse me?"
"My job," he spoke in the same low tone, "is to protect this land from people like Weil."
"What has h-he ever d-done to y-you-you?"
"He kills reploids!"
"We kill M-mavericks. And y-you should th-thank us for s-say-saving you the trouble!" His arm smashed against the mirror, shattering glass that sprayed over his shiny blue armor, and he continued to breathe hard, unharmed. "Thank you? You're practically a Maverick yourself!" This was the wrong thing to say. Copy's armor changed from brilliant X blue to white and gold, save his helmet. With two wing-like extensions protruding from the upper back, an additional five from the helmet, and a final two from the sides of his X-Buster, Copy X was in Seraph Form before Fefnir could take back what he'd said to provoke this. But he looked so ethereal and angelic, even with his demonic ruby eyes…
"G-GET OFF ME!" The red-eyed angel was screaming and pushing, but Fefnir did not budge-he was by far stronger. A sadistic little cocked smile was on his face that would have made Copy X's stomach churn had he not been furious. "GET OFF!" The smile broadened. "Didn't stutter that time."
"G-GET GET O-O-O-"
"I spoke too soon. What are you going to do, huh, baby? Perform the Nova Strike?"
Copy looked into Fef's eyes with a sea of contempt. If he could just get out from underneath him, his lover could see his full strength and fury. Truth was, he felt weak, shaking with hunger to hurt him… Or was this another kind of hunger? Fefnir being on top of him like this-
"Look who's come up to play."
"What?" Copy X felt relief drown him until he couldn't move, because just between his legs, a very important muscle had indeed risen to the occasion. "Oh, f-finally!" Fef laughed, though he didn't fully understand. His hands traveled down to the spot that hadn't been touched in what felt like ages. Copy was already moaning, squeezing his partner's shoulder armor. "Sensitive, I see." The red reploid worked his hand softly, careful to avoid the protruding wings above him. Both were fully clothed, even as both the Master and Guardian commenced grinding, hard-on against hard-on. "What are you doing?" Copy X had lifted Fefnir and began feeling behind him, then in front, a curious grin on his face. "L-looking for the vi-vinegar." Fef laughed again, heartily this time. "I didn't bring it. This time." Copy leaned into his love's ear and whispered, "Damn, that's a sh-shame." But again, Fefnir chose the wrong words.
"I love you, Master X, my red-eyed angel."
"I love you too, my brave commander." Copy X now had no doubt about his Guardian's commitment. He did, however, doubt that he could get hard again. "Say s-something dir-dirty," he pleaded.
"Dirty? You couldn't handle it."
Fefnir stared. "I-I-I'm soft ag-again."
"So you are," he said, surprised, feeling Copy's limp member through his bodysuit. "What happened?"
"I d-don't know," Copy lied. He knew by now that he only got hard when he was angry, and that Fefnir's lack of violence killed it. The one time he decides to be sweet… The soft Master X rolled off onto the floor, slightly annoyed, but not enough to make things happen. As they lied there next to each other, Fefnir fell silent, obviously lost so deep in thought he did not even notice as Copy X came out of Seraph Form. Back in blue, he waited for the other to speak. But when he eventually did, Copy wished he hadn't.
"I think Weil needs to leave Neo Arcadia." He went hastily on before Copy X could reply, though the look on his face plainly said that he didn't want to hear it. "He's using you, C. Like you're his puppet and he's the-"
"I'm Master Eh-X. H-h-he is my ad-advisor. I run Neo Arcadia. And Dr. V-Weil does w-well by m-me." It didn't matter that he and Weil had fought; Weil was helping save his beautiful city, and that mattered more than anything. Fefnir was talking very loud and fast now. "He rules you; you obey his every suggestion and command. If he doesn't leave, he'll destroy the city that you love. And you're helping him do it." That was all he could take. Virus-enhanced anger was coursing through him so that he spoke through a clenched jaw. "Get out."
"C, it's true."
"G-get out." Fefnir knew better than to defy Master X when he spoke like that. He could practically hear the reploid ticking, ready to go off. No, it was good for both of them if he did as he was told, he was Copy's guardian after all.
Copy X paced his room, a red sky over his city as if all of Neo Arcadia was as irate as he. A large portion of the night was spent marching his thoughts into the ground beneath him as he walked a path that ran straight through the mirror glass which crunched under his weight. "J-just wait t-till-till Fefnir receives p-punishme-ent for this. H-his master will sh-show him! M-m-make him be-behave like a l-loy-loyal guardian sh-sh-should!" With more force than he meant, he threw off his helmet, armor, then began stripping off his body suit when he noticed something- the only thing that took his mind off Fefnir that night. He was hard again.