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DJ Subatomic Supernova was not having a good day.
His very first concert since the satellite had been repelled all those months ago, the one his listeners had been positively slobbering for on social media and that had sold more than a dozen Privilege Passes, had been cut short.
By a message from his boyfriend.
Sure, he could have ignored his phone the first few times it buzzed, but the sixth and the seventh time had made it clear Neon J wasn’t giving up.
Finally Supernova had, irritated and ready to yell, finally given in and taken out his phone with one hand while the other kept scratching the plates. The display had shown him that in lieu of reaching him personally, J had settled for a simple text message.
It contained only two sentences.
“Need to see you. Now!”
The commanding tone wasn’t surprising. J tended to let his days as a war vet seep even into the way he typed: quick and to the point.
It was one of the things Supernova appreciated about J. Except at that moment, when all he wanted to do was launch his phone and the offending message into the crowd where it would inevitably end up trampled.
Dammit, J knew how important this was for him!
Nevertheless, he never would have called if it wasn’t important.
So Supernova sighed, played one last song, switched off his DJ table to the loud and passionate protests of his fans and retreated for the night.
He was still fuming when he made his way through the Metro Division towards Baracka Mansion.
Who did J think he was, ordering him around like he was one of his androids?
Actually, that wasn’t a fair comparison.
J never commandeered 1010, except in emergencies.
So, should he be upset about this obvious favoritism? Supernova wondered, as he pressed the buzzer on the gate.
He’d barely taken his hand down when the gate swung wide open.
Supernova flinched a bit, then gave an exasperated sigh and walked through the gates and into the mansion.
“J? I’m here. This had better be important.”
“Oh, I would say so.”
That wasn’t J’s voice.
Supernova froze on the spot. 1010 was standing in the entrance hall, identical triumphant smirks on their faces. Supernova had the nagging feeling he had just walked right into a trap.
“What is all this?” he asked, pointing at the robots.
“You’ll see,” White said, ambling over and throwing his arm around Supernova’s shoulders. “Why don’t you accompany us to the dining hall.”
If Supernova had eyes, he would have rolled them. “Look boys, I really don’t have time for-”
“Nonsense!” Blue said, swinging his arm around Supernova from the other side. “We insist!”
“It’d be rude to leave when you just arrived, right?” Yellow added, running around Supernova and pressing his hands against the DJ’s back.
Green and Red joined their brother, nodding eagerly and together they led (read: dragged) Supernova toward one of the huge, white doors, ignoring his protests. They were surprisingly strong for their slender build.
Approximately one minute later, Supernova had been forced into an ornate chair in front of an enormous marble table.
1010 had positioned themselves around said table and were looking him up and down, a calculating look in their eyes.
Supernova felt like he was back at his Lights Up audition again.
“So,” White said at last, eyes fixed on Supernova’s head. He leaned forward, resting his palms on the table. “Mr. Supernova. What are your intentions with Neon J?”
Supernova stared.
Ah.
With the way White’s voice had gone down two and a half octaves just now, he should have guessed what this was about from the start.
Him and J had discussed letting 1010 know about their relationship, but J had always been reluctant. Saying that his “troops” could be a little “intense” when it came to him and romance.
At that time Supernova had chuckled lightly, asking if they were talking about the same androids. Now, with five inquisitive pairs of eyes staring him down from every direction he could safely say that ‘intense’ was way too lax a word to describe it.
He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. Perhaps it would be best for his safety if he played dumb. Which was not an easy thing for him to do, but survival required sacrifices.
“Um, I’m not entirely sure what you mean? We are colleagues, yes, but-”
“Don’t play dumb with us,” Blue cut him off. He pulled something out from his pocket and accusingly shoved it into Supernova’s face. “Or are you going to deny that this is you?”
The thing turned out to be Neon J’s phone, recognizable by the 1010 logo attached to the key-chain. There was a photo on the display, showing Supernova and J looking into the camera and doing victory signs.
Supernova groaned. He had never been a fan of so-called “couple selfies” but J had managed to talk him around that day. He’d been in a good mood and it had been adorable to see Neon J so happy.
This was where sentimentality had gotten him.
Supernova slowly dragged a large hand down his face. “First of all, why do you have his phone?”
“Don’t try to distract from the issue,” Red barked, slamming his hands down on the table. “Just answer our questions!”
“You only asked me one question so far.”
“Shut up!”
“I thought I was supposed to answer your questions?”
Red looked about ready to blow a fuse and most likely would have if White hadn’t placed a placating hand on his shoulder, slowly edging him away from the table.
“The thing is, Mr. Supernova,” he said, turning his attention back to the Dj, “Neon J is important to us. Very important. And we don’t want any harm to come to him. We’d be very unhappy if he’d end up hurt because of you.”
“Yeah,” Red called. “Reeeal unhappy. Did you ever kill a man, Mr. Supernova? We did.”
White impatiently waved a hand. “No we didn’t. He’s kidding.”
“Or am I?” Red’s grin was positively predatory.
Supernova found himself wishing to be anywhere but here. Astral projection would be an option but he’d hate to think about what the boys would do to his unconscious body while he wasn’t there.
So instead he gave a long-suffering sigh and answered: “Neon J and I have been… seeing each other for a few weeks by now. I assure you, I do not intend to break his heart or any some such thing. He means as much to me as he does to you-”
Five immaculate pairs of eyebrows snapped together in unison.
“Or perhaps not as much, but he is still precious to me.” He looked at all of them, hoping the sincerity would still come through despite his lack of facial features. "I would never hurt him. In any way. You have my word.”
1010 stared at him for a while. If it wasn’t for their idol-programming preventing them from losing control over their facial features at any point, Supernova was positive their mouths would have dropped open.
“Huh,” Yellow said finally. “That was… easier than expected.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Red scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Jeez. I feel like a complete douche right now.”
The rest of 1010 gave acquiescent murmurs.
Supernova got up from his chair and straightened his back. He didn’t know how Neon J could stand to sit and eat lunch in those things! Surely even a cyborg had some need for comfort? “Well, if that is all, I have a compensation rave to plan. If you’ll excuse me-”
“Troops!”
1010 stiffened, automatically standing at attention at the sound of Neon J’s voice piercing through the door.
“My phone was not in the practice room and I do not appreciate you wasting my time with snipe hunts!”
The next minute the door was shoved open with unnecessary force and the man himself entered the dining room, turning his monitor as if searching for something.
When he saw Supernova, he jumped a little, sonar giving off a rapid series of peeps.
“Ah, Sup- Mr. Supernova, I hadn’t expected- by which I mean, you didn’t call, I-” Neon J’s monitor went from 1010 to Supernova hectically.
Supernova grinned internally.
Evidently his interrogators had not factored their creator’s arrival into their little plan to confront him. And judging by their nervous expressions, they would rather not have to explain to him just where his phone went and what it had been used for. Or why his boyfriend was in their dining room.
Luckily for them, Supernova wasn’t one to hold a grudge. At least not when it would have deprived him of a stellar opportunity to mix business with pleasure.
“Ah, my apologies Neon J,” he said smoothly, walking over to the manager. He couldn’t see them, but he was keenly aware of 1010 watching him anxiously. “Your boys just invited me over to make me a collaboration offer.”
Neon J tilted his head. “They did?” he asked dubiously.
“But of course!” Supernova turned to 1010, expending his arms in a grand gesture. “We were just talking about what a splendid idea it would be to combine their singing with my newest composition, in order to unite both of our listeners and bring both Metro Division and Cast Tech District a much needed boost!”
Neon J threw a look over Supernova’s shoulder at 1010, sonar slowing down considerably. It meant he was trying to catch the boys in a lie, Supernova knew.
He turned around to 1010 to see them give the most innocent smiles repurposed war-androids could give. Neon J kept his monitor on them for a while, before he put a hand to where his chin would be and tapped his monitor in thought.
“That is a good idea,” he said slowly. “Of course, we’d have to take into consideration the energy output needed for transport and both of our performances, but all in all…”
And of course, it would give us an excuse to spend time together that won’t have the paparazzi jump to conclusions, Supernova thought. For the moment the public was no more aware of them dating than 1010 had been and both of them had unanimously decided it would stay that way for a while.
“Though I’d appreciate being told about decisions of this caliber ahead of time in the future,” Neon J said, turning his monitor back to facelessly glare at 1010. “I will not have insubordination in this house, understood?”
“Yes J,” 1010 replied quickly in unison. Supernova would have missed the tiny hint of relief in their voices if he hadn’t been listening for it.
Supernova clapped his hands together with an air of finality. “Good. Now that this is settled, I’d say we retreat to your workrooms in order to plan out the details and the marketing.”
Neon J looked at him, confused, before finally getting it and giving a few excited beeps. “Oh! Y-Yes, yes of course!” He whipped around, pointing at 1010. “I want you five to practice your new dance routine in the meantime! Green, you were getting slow on your spins! Don’t give me that look, you know coordination is key in battle. Dismissed!”
1010 practically fled from the room, leaving Neon J and Supernova alone.
“So what were you actually doing here?” Neon J asked, once the door slid shut.
Supernova looked at him.
Neon J crossed his arms. “I might not be a space genius like you, but I’m not stupid Subatomic. They found out, didn’t they?”
Supernova stared at his boyfriend for a while, then chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, I should have known nothing gets past you.” When J didn’t respond, he nodded. “Yes, they did.”
“Called you here and tried to intimidate you?”
“Exactly.”
J gave an exasperated sigh, letting his arms drop to his sides. “They’re incorrigible. Sorry. I bet they pulled you away from something important too, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say important-”
“Sub….”
“… Yes, pretty much.”
Neon J groaned. “Unbelievable.”
Supernova stepped closer to put an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Now, don’t be too harsh on them. They only do those things because they care about you.”
J looked up at him, staying silent for a while. “Gotta say, I wouldn’t have expected you to defend them.”
Supernova chuckled. “Let us just say I understand their need to protect you with violence if need be.”
J gave him a playful shove. “Hey, which one of us was it that fought in a war? I might have had to replace a few things, but I’m still alive and kicking!”
“You are right, of course. My mistake,” Supernova replied, in the most humbled, penitent voice he could muster.
Neon J laughed, giving him a fake punch to the arm. “Come on, tough guy. We still have to work on that collab you proposed.”
They walked out of the dining room and towards Neon J’s room, holding hands the whole way.
When J opened the door to his office, Supernova decided he was, in fact, having a very good day, thanks to five overprotective robot-idols. Not that he would tell them.
Let them stew in their guilt for a while.
Maybe this incident would soften them up enough for him to pop the question to J next year.