flowerofviridian | fuck me its a robot fic

Staying on top of his game was important. It kept the others on their toes. It kept him on his toes. There were a whole slew of benefits for it, both for his physical and mental health. Even still, there was one thought that kept him going more than anything else.

If he stopped, he was resigning himself to being worthless. So he didn't. Because he wasn't.

He really, really wanted to believe that he wasn't.

The morning lull between shifts was when Bulba preferred to go in to train when he was on his own. Mostly it was quiet, or about as quiet as a place like this could ever be. People drifted in and out, but most were quick, and most did not pay him much attention. Usually.

"Huh? I wasn't expectin' anyone else t'be down here."

Bulba looked up from his stretches, tossing his bangs a bit to better look up at the unfamiliar voice. A tall, somewhat wild looking man had strode into the room and was looking down at him. Leafy hair, intense red eyes… Bulba's eyes fell on the hints and teases of tattoos creeping beneath the stranger's shirt. Ah, right, he knew who this was. Vinnie, one of the recent transfers looking for another pilot. He was already doing fairly well and making a name for himself, so it was likely he'd find someone else soon. He was the one Green had said looked like too much of a hot shot, which was an assessment that Bulba had quietly neglected to comment on. It wasn't the first time they had crossed paths, but it was the first time he said anything meant for Bulba to hear.

"Good morning," Bulba politely greeted before he went back to finishing his set.

"S'it always this quiet in the mornings 'round here?"

The blonde glanced over at him again, noting the honestly curious look Vinnie was giving him. Bulba looked away again as he got to his feet. "Sometimes it's quieter."

Vinnie watched him for a moment before he barked a laugh. "Ohh, I get it, I'm interruption' your private time aren't I?" Not getting more than a slightly incredulous look in response, the pilot laughed again. "Well, sorry 'bout that. … You know, I think I've seen you around before."

Bulba paused in mid-reach for one of the wall staves as Vinnie did his own stretches. "… Yeah?"

"Mhmm… It wasn't with the other boys, though…" The green haired man sounded curious as he mused about it out loud, and Bulba just felt a slowly mounting feeling of dread. It wasn't the first time similar observations had taken place. Honestly he was a little sick of it. "Oh!" The sound of snapping fingers drew Bulba's attention again. "You're one of the desk jockeys, aren't you??"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Nothin'. Just don't usually see you guys around, that's all. Here I was hoping for a spar but--"

The loud clatter of the staff at Vinnie's feet cut the pilot off. He watched as Bulba grabbed another one from the wall, the blonde's defiant glare trained on Vinnie the whole time. "Then you've got one." It seemed he had hit a nerve. That was just fine with him.

A toothy, wolfish grin crossed Vinnie's face as he picked up the weapon, eying Bulba a bit closer. "Yeah? A'right. Let's see what the desk jockey can do."

The first round was over with quickly, which was more or less expected. The fact that it was Vinnie with the staff poised at his throat, staring down at the golden eyes that were fiercely burning up at him... That part was a surprise. It seemed he had severely underestimated the other boy. It was exhilarating. He gently moved the staff away with his own, a spark of something else in his eyes. "Do that again."

The tension in Bulba's face eased just slightly, enough for a small smile to appear as he took a step back and shifted back into stance. "Gladly."

The flurry of blows that followed were entirely unlike the first had been. Hard and fast, powerful and demanding. They both drew back and they both pressed forward, and their was a sense of purpose and urgency to each step. Their had been a mutual rush between them, an unspoken appreciation of giving it their all and taking the other seriously. Where one landed a hit, they quickly conceded to one shortly after. It became hard to clearly dictate just who was winning as the rounds blended into a single dance of blows. The steps had come smaller, the contact more pronounced, their steps knowing exactly where to go without a single word.

It ended when Vinnie was sprawled flat on his back, the other's staff point hovering dangerously above his throat. Bulba stood across him, looking down with a smile on his face as he caught his breath. That had been strangely much more satisfying than he thought it would have been. It had felt... really good. The surprised look Vinnie was wearing was a reward of it's own, as well. The pilot propped himself up on one elbow, brushing the weapon out of his face with the back of his hand.

"Why the fuck are you a desk jockey, again?" That wasn't what Bulba had been expecting. His grip on the staff tightened as he tensed suddenly, blinking at Vinnie. "Seriously!" Bulba shook his head and backed off so the other could regain his feet.

"It doesn't matter," the blonde said as he retreated to put his staff away. He heard the other man get up. "There isn't anyone here that I'm compatible with," he explained quietly, the regret in his voice somewhat unavoidable. That was right, it wasn't as though he hadn't wanted to be a pilot. It just hadn't worked out that way. The disappointment of not being able to drift with Green had stung hard. Bulba couldn't stop feeling he was being left behind, and every subsequent attempt at pairing with anyone else had just gone progressively worse. He stopped trying.

When he turned around, he was alarmed to see that Vinnie had closed in right up on him. "You're wrong," he said, boldly leaning in a bit closer. There was an eager excitement dancing in his red eyes as he very forwardly clasped his hands on Bulba's shoulders. "Drift with me."

"...E-excuse me?" Bulba had turned a tiny bit red. Vinnie grinned wider.

"Drift with me. It'll work. I know it will. You have to."

"Er, but I'm-"

"Compatible with me." He wasn't giving Bulba any room to deny it. "Come with me. You do want to be a pilot don't you?" As far as he was concerned, there was no way someone came and trained and fought like that that didn't.

Bulba wasn't really sure what he was supposed to be feeling at the moment. There had certainly been something there, he couldn't really deny that. He did want to be a pilot.

He really, really wanted to believe that he wasn't worthless. And suddenly here was someone that really, really believed that he wasn't. Someone he had just properly met. Someone that didn't even know his name.

"... Yes."

"Good. Come with me."