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Burgertron pushed on as far as he could go tonight. He kept the signature smirk of his up for as long as possible during the party. Faked overconfidence can only go so far when he can barely tell what he’s saying and to who.
It’s not like it was a special party the BotBots threw for the night. It was a regular having-fun-til-our-legs-give-out-because-we’re-alive-and-having-so-much-fun party.
At the start, Burgertron had been going through automatic responses. He gave what were probably appropriate responses but held just as much enthusiasm, nobody has complained so far so that’s a good sign. But as time went on, he started losing his own energy to stand in the crowd let alone dance. Not even when his favorite song came on.
When did this song become so dull? Burgertron frowned. He checks himself and forcefully replaces it with a smile.
The heaviness is growing stronger inside his body. Like he’s being filled with lead from head to foot to every little digit on his hands.
And with the heaviness comes a familiar voice that likes to laugh maniacally in the back of his head. Laughing at him. Telling him how much of an ungrateful friend and loser he is no matter how much his mind tries to counteract.
He’s running on empty.
He needed to leave. And fast.
Making absolutely sure nobody notices him leaving, Burgertron casually makes his leave. Although, from afar, Dimlit had taken notice and would have politely cut through the crowd to check on him if it weren’t for Jacqueline distracting him long enough for the Lost Bot leader to duck out of sight.
Gosh, B.T. has never been more thankful for Jacqueline’s existence. He’s never been more thankful that his plan to get rid of her failed spectacularly.
Burgertron winces at the memory and at what the voice is trying to impose on his mind.
He has to go.
He needs Frostferatu.
At the bookstore, Frostferatu has a couple of books open before him at one of the very back corners of the store. One contained information about gemstones and minerals while the other was filled with documents of ghost sightings and the supernatural.
The freaky frosted pastry kept going between the pages about amethyst crystals and out-of-body experiences when a knock came from the shelf behind him.
Frostferatu turns to see Burgertron. At first he’s happy to see the Lost Bot until he catches sight of his greasy friend’s crestfallen face.
Frostferatu sighs, “We can’t keep doing this, B.T.”
Burgertron shakes his head sadly, sheepishly rubbing at his arms.
“I know, I know.” he avoids eye contact for a moment. “I’m just having a hard time keeping up the enthusiasm in front of everybody.”
“You said that at the concert last week,” Frostferatu ushers the unmoving Burgertron towards himself, “not even before your performance but during Dimlit and Jacqueline’s out of all of them.”
“I know,” Burgertron steps closer. He kneels to the ground until he’s sitting on his legs, “This will be the last time, I swear.”
Frostferatu sighs once again, “Yet another you’ve already said.”
“I know.”
A solemn Burgertron tilts his head to the side exposing his white bready neck.
Frostferatu kneels in front of the Lost Bot. He reaches out to support Burgertron’s head in one hand and gently grips at the shoulder on the opposite side.
The puncture wounds from the last time had closed up but the marks were still visible from the last time. How no BotBot has ever brought it up to either of them was beyond their knowledge.
Wasting no more time, to just get it over with, Frostferatu sinks his fangs into the same space, reopening the wounds.
Burgertron gasps, his breathing becomes heavier. Long arms wrap themselves around the vampiric BotBot. Letting out pleased noises as the energizing rush fills him like a sugary water balloon. Chasing away the dark, chasing away the voices that catch him while he’s vulnerable.
Technically, Frosteratu could have bitten Burgertron anywhere to give him the rush. But on the first favor, that was supposed to be a one and done deal, Frosty insisted he’d do so on the neck because that’s how it is always portrayed in books and movies. He’s since then regretted it. It’s how Burgertron wants it every time he comes to Frostferatu. The first time was intimate, personal. One BotBot helping another he cares very much for in need. Now, once Burgertron has his rush he’s gone.
Frostferatu shifts to remove his fangs until a pair of hands reach for the back of his head and holds him there.
“Don’t,” Burgertron breathes shakily. “Need more.”
Frostferatu could do nothing else but comply. He knows the rush has a different affect on B.T. A regular dose would have any other BotBot running laps around the mall five times. A regular dose for Burgertron these days brings him back to normalcy. But this is way past the normal dose. Frostferatu doesn’t know what happens if he overdoes it. Why does it feel like Burgertron wants to find that out?
With a relieved sigh, Burgertron releases Frosferatu’s head, “Alright. I’m good.” He watches, mesmerized, as Frosty licks the sodium induced grease off his fangs tasting the way it mixes sweetly with his sugary venom. Burgertron blushes, “Well, um, I-uh-better get goin-!” he loses his balance while trying to stand, but doesn’t fall. Frostferatu caught him by the waist which made his reenergized legs want to turn into jelly.
“Are you sure you do not wish to stay?”
Burgertron gazes at Frosty with a dumbstruck look on his face. His hands had found purchase on the cupcake’s shoulders for support. Burgertron quickly retracts and composes himself into his usual confident persona.
“Unfortunately,” the Lost Bot shrugs, “places to be, appearances to maintain. It’s questionable when I don’t show up, y’know? So, um, thanks, Frosty. See you later?”
Frostferatu agrees in a lackadaisical manner the other BotBot doesn’t notice.
The Sugar Shock doesn’t bother watching Burgertron leave, because it’s just like all the other times. He leaves and doesn’t return. Not for another day or two.
Gathering himself, Frostferatu tried to bring his focus back onto the pages he had out. Tried to find peace in the silence.
That silence was unfortunately broken when loud music started playing from the next aisle over, startling Frosferatu.
Growling in frustration, Frostferatu made an attempt to ignore the idiot BotBots who believed it to be a good idea to bring a stereo into a bookstore. While the volume was, thankfully, turned down a bit the pair of BotBots got into a brief spat about not bringing the right CD and left the device playing a random rock station.
It would have been fine, but Frosferatu didn’t want the noise. He started dragging the books back to where he found them. At the same time, he can’t help but think about the lyrics of the song currently playing.
“Fill me up with your sugary poison! It’s the only thing keeping me standing!”
Frosty’s sugar venom shouldn’t have to be the sole reason for Burgertron to operate.
“A little secret, so demanding! Is this an addiction?”
Very much so, and a bad one. Burgertron is getting dependent and Frostferatu doesn’t know how to stop it.
“I need it to keep breathing. This emptiness has no point or reason,”
Burgertron never tried specifying what exactly is wrong with him. Frostferatu doesn’t want to pry, especially if it hurts Burgertron, but how can he not ponder with how far things have gotten?
“So I’ll just keep on returning-to you, every night. Where your sugar bites keeps me alive. An injection of love and affection.”
Yet, no matter how long this goes he can’t help it. Frostferatu loves Burgertron. Turning him away when he’s in need isn’t an option, and will never be one.
“No one can tell me wrong or right, when I’m in your arms and the devil’s in my mind.”
Burgertron vaguely mentioned something about a voice in his head that bothers him during one of his first visits. He never elaborated, but Frostferatu held him tighter that night. What could the voice be saying that carves him out so hollow and needy?
“I can’t see the end, but for the moment, I’m alright.”
But was Burgertron really alright in those moments when he leaves? If he was, there wouldn’t be frequent visits paid to him. There wouldn’t be any solid, or somewhat desperate, excuse for their gathering. There’d be no reason to hold each other as much as they do now.
Frostferatu deflates against the end of an aisle where the last book was stored away.
Frostferatu stares off into the distance out the store’s windows. He wonders to himself, is it wrong of him to anticipate Burgertron’s next sugar rush visit?