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“So that’s a satisfactory job perpetrating insurance fraud,” Aaron said. “It should net me a nice bonus to spend on sweet, sweet alcohol. You can carry on…tormented diseased rodents, apparently. I’ll see myself out.”
“Hang on,” said Deadpool, setting down the magic clay he’d stolen from the Puppet Master. “You’re leaving?”
“Your rabid hamsters are escaping.”
Deadpool ignored the frothing rodents. “We could hang out.”
“Seriously if you don’t pick them up, there’s likely to be a disease outbreak.”
“I mean it, we could just chill, like two bros.”
“Do you have any idea how much paperwork a rabies outbreak would generate?”
“You know, if you’re not busy, I think my bustling social life has a small gap in the schedule.
“For ☠️☠️☠️☠️ sake.” Aaron bent down and picked up the magic clay, then used it to march the rabid hamsters back into the cage.
“So, is that a yes on hanging out?”
“Hanging out?” Aaron frowned. “With you?”
“Yeah! …I mean if you want to.”
“Why would I possibly want that?”
“...I have beer?”
Aaron paused. “How much beer?”
“As much as you want!”
Aaron smiled. “Oh, meat sack, you are going to regret saying that.”
—
“This is nice,” Deadpool slurred, waving a beer around. “Having friends. ‘S nice.”
“I didn’t say we were friends, I said I was willing to tolerate your presence in exchange for beer.” Aaron was sprawled out on the floor. With his arms, legs, and neck telescoped out long, it was a lot of sprawl.
“Same thing.”
“No.” Aaron turned his head, which was under the coffee table. “I...where are you?”
“Up here,” said Deadpool. “Sofa.”
Aaron partially retracted his head and looked up. “There you are. I tolerate a lot of things in order to gain access to alcohol.” He began waving his finger around to make his point, but unfortunately for him, the finger was in the kitchen. “Mind-controlled children tearing my head off, being ingested by Fin Fang Foom, working at an insurance company, the Captain, all kinds of ☠️☠️☠️☠️.”
“Which Captain?”
“Don’t ask.” Aaron let his head drop down on the carpet.
Deadpool stood. It took considerable effort and planning. “Thing is, some of us don’t have friends. Some of aren’t liked by people. I mean you don’t get it, because I bet you have a billion friends. Everyone must be all ‘I want to be buddies with the awesome robot’! Well, Machine Man, thing is...” He made a gesture for emphasis, and immediately tripped over part of Aaron’s arm.
“Aaron.”
“Well, Machine Man, thing is...Aaron? No, that’s not right.” Deadpool untangled himself and sat up. “Thing is Ben! I met him at a party once!”
“You’ve lost me.”
“No,” said Deadpool, grabbing part of Machine Man’s arm. “You’re right here. Now I remember!”
“What?” Aaron lifted his head again.
“You’re Aaron!”
“☠️☠️☠️☠️ yeah, I am!”
“How does a robot get a name like Aaron? Aren’t you guys all named like Robbie or something?”
“That’s a stereotype, you stupid pus-bag!”
Deadpool curled up into a ball. “Don’t make fun of my pus. I can’t help it.”
Aaron began pulling his limbs in. “Is there any more beer?”
"What do I know? I’m just a stupid pus-bag.”
“I’ll check the fridge.” Aaron straightened up. He glanced back at Deadpool. “Um, you’re only marginally more pus-filled than the average human. Like compared to your overall body mass, the difference is statistically negligible.”
Deadpool lifted his head. “Really?”
“Yeah, all you fleshy things are ☠️☠️☠️☠️ gross. It’s not just you.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, bring me beer.”
—
“Don’t waste your time trying to make friends,” said Aaron. “I don’t. It’s pointless.”
“Bet you’d have more friends if you shared your slippery fluids,” said Deadpool.
“Do you have any idea how much lubricant it takes to keep this body running smoothly? I have to be prepared for action at all times!”
Deadpool began giggling.
“Anyway, I tried being friendly. I tried being nice. I kissed up to the Avengers. Got made a member.”
“You were an Avenger?” Deadpool asked. “Impressive.”
“Well, reserve Avenger. Reserve West Coast Avenger.”
“Okay, that’s somehow less impressive than not being an Avenger at all.”
“Anyway, I caught a virus from a time-traveling half-man half-robot from the future.”
“Been there.” Deadpool nodded.
“I’m sorry, are we no longer talking about me? Because I liked the bit where we were talking about me.”
Deadpool began blowing over the top of his empty beer bottle, making hooting sounds.
“So I got the virus, and it got in my head and made me violent. And I tried to be good, I tried to talk to people for help, I went to ☠️☠️☠️☠️ space so I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and they launched ☠️☠️☠️☠️ energy blasts at me. Because mad robot, must be destroyed.”
“Fucking military.” Deadpool nodded.
“What?”
“Fucking. You’re allowed to say the word here, because it’s fanfic. It’s only in the comics where you have to stick to ☠️☠️☠️☠️.”
“What are you talking about?”
Deadpool waved his hand. “Never mind, it’s complicated. Anyway, military did this to me.” He pulled off his mask. “Canadian military. Everyone is all ‘Oh, Canada, they’re so nice! Not like those loud mean Americans!’ But did the American government do anything like this?”
“I had fifty siblings,” said Aaron. “The American military drove them all insane and then killed them for losing their minds. And then they tried to hunt me down and kill me. Made my father explode.” He made a hand gesture and an explosiony noise with his mouth.
Deadpool turned his head and gave Aaron a look. “Look, R2Drunk2, don’t get into a traumatic backstory-off with me, I have so many fucking versions, we’ll be here all night.”
—
“Pretty much the only one who likes me is Cable,” said Deadpool, “and he’s constantly pissed off at me for murdering people.”
“You know Cable?”
“Yeah. You know Cable? Did you two...you know?”
Aaron frowned. “Did we what?”
“Did you two...mesh gears, as it were?” Deadpool made a complicated hand gesture. “Plug into each other’s input ports? Exchange hardware?”
“No,” said Aaron. “Absolutely not. I mean his metal side side is incredibly good-looking, but so much of the processing power is caught up in aping the inefficiencies of biological systems so it doesn’t kill him before the virus takes over, so any of his hardware would only slow me down.” He looked down. “He did help me when I was in trouble, though.”
“Yeah, he does that. You think his metal side is incredibly good looking?”
“Of course!”
“So it isn’t just me?” Deadpool sighed. “That’s a relief.”
“No, that’s a sign you have exceptionally good taste for a fleshbag.”
Deadpool shrugged, and flung an arm around Aaron’s shoulder. “What can I say? I like metal dicks.”
Aaron turned his head. “Are you coming on to me?”
“...are you interested?”
Aaron shrugged. “Why not?”
—
“So, do you have a metal dick?”
“I don’t have just one metal dick, I have a diverse array.” Aaron began producing attachments. “I’ve got six different models of metal ones, and when you get into the silicon, it’s well over a dozen. Do you have a preference?”
“Hold on, I hadn’t decided on you being on top, I was just asking so I’d know the options. Do you have a metal butt?”
“My butt is a metal frame covered by a sophisticated nanite-generated polymer designed to mimic the appearance and texture of human flesh.” Aaron undid his pants and dropped them to the floor. “Behold!”
Deadpool walked around. “Nice ass.”
“I know.”
Deadpool leaned down and peered. “Missing something, though.” He touched it. “You don’t have a butthole!”
“Why would I have a butthole? What possible use would I have for a butthole?”
"Pooping?"
"I am a robot! Unlike you inferior fleshbags, I have no need for pooping!"
“Sex?”
Aaron stopped. “Okay, a point, but there are alternatives.”
“Do you think if I went in with a power drill, I could make a hole?” Deadpool asked.
“You are not taking a power drill to my magnificent robot butt!”
“Not sure if I own a power drill. I do own a lot of guns!”
Aaron stepped back and glared at Deadpool. “If you attempt to damage my magnificent robot butt in any way, sex is canceled!”
“Fine.” Deadpool straightened up. “Picky. Anyway, unlike your butt, mine is fully functional.”
“My butt has an impressive array of functions, including military, civilian, and aesthetic value!”
“But you can’t fuck it.” Deadpool stripped down. “Come on, and don’t be stingy with your slippery fluids!”
—
Another one of Aaron’s attachments was a fleshlight.
He didn’t tell Deadpool about this, because Deadpool was being annoying.
—
The next morning, Aaron began to get dressed.
Deadpool was still snoring.
Aaron was fully dressed and ready to sneak out, when Deadpool sat up. “Taking off so soon, RoboCop?”
Aaron glared. “RoboCop was a cyborg! I am pure robot awesome!”
“So you don’t want to stay for breakfast?”
“I don’t eat. Also, I’ve seen the contents of your fridge, and I wouldn’t even feed that to a human.”
“Still, you don’t have to rush off. It’s only…” Deadpool looked at his clock. “Eighty-eight?”
“Your clock is broken. There isn't a functioning clock in the entire house. It’s currently seven thirty-five in the morning. And I have work today.”
“Seven thirty-five? You lie! Mornings don’t starts that early!”
“I have to go,” said Aaron. “But…since you seem to be lonely, mentally unstable, and violent, I will, as a service to society, associate with you in exchange for beer from time to time.”
Deadpool gave two thumbs up. “Awesome! Machine Man, this sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship!”
“My name’s Aaron.”
“I know, but that’s a stupid name. Actually, Machine Man isn’t that great. I’m going to call you Mega-War-Bot 2000, if that’s okay.”
“It isn’t.”
“Ten-four, Mega-War-Bot 2000, see you next week!”