Chapter Text
“Comfy, bro?”
He hesitated for a moment before responding, weighing the futility of his reply against the quietude that enveloped them. After a few seconds, he resigned himself to the reality of the situation. "As much as I could be, given the circumstances." he finally said, shifting slightly in his bonds.
“Aw, c’mon! It’s better than getting punched or blasted in the face, wouldn’t you say?” A playful grin danced across his sibling's features, punctuating the seriousness of their current predicaments. A brief silence followed as they both absorbed the tension in the air, broken only by a shared chuckle. “Unless you actually LIKE the skirmishes we find ourselves in,” he teased.
The azure robot remained silent, caught in a moment of internal conflict. He didn’t dare admit it, but there was a sliver of truth to his brother's words. While he usually thrived in the chaos of battle, the absence of conflict right now felt strangely liberating. The feeling was both odd and refreshing, as he contemplated how rare it was to take a break from the relentless combat mode that dominated his existence. The respite from skirmishes was something he'd never thought he’d crave, yet here he was, savoring the stillness in stark contrast to the chaos of their usual encounters.
Of course, that didn’t exactly mean he preferred the sort of predicament he found himself in now.
Currently, Rock Light, Mega Man, the Blue Bomber himself, should any neutral observer come across him at this time, would realize that the usually hardy and seemingly unstoppable Super Fighting Robot was a little “tied up” at the moment. Restrained against the side of a steel pier, limbs pulled away from the center of his azure-colored, muscular form, spread eagle, and with his wrists and ankles kept in place via four distinctive magnets that were latched onto the surface of his blue armor.
"Gotta remember to extend my thanks to Magnet Man for allowing me to borrow his clever little device before I came here," another figure mused, a sly grin creeping across his face. Not far away, the architect of this scheme stood, reveling in his triumph, effortlessly spinning a spare magnet around a crimson fingertip as if it were a child's toy. "Of course," he continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "The best gift that guy could receive would probably be an intelligence upgrade from Wily. Then again, I suspect he prefers his minions to be a tad dimmer than he is."
The restrained android let out a derisive scoff, his blue metallic frame immobilized and rendered utterly useless, yet despite the confines of his body, the processor inside hummed with sharp wit, eager to lash out with some choice words. "You know," Mega began, his voice tinged with a mocking tone, "the same could very well be said about you. Who’s to say he isn't intentionally keeping you in the dark as well? After all, ignorance can be a powerful tool." The words dripped with sarcasm, echoing in the private yet semi-open space as though challenging the very foundations of the situation he found himself in.
This response, however, didn’t appear to amuse his captor.
A machine stood before him, a humanoid robot closely resembling himself in almost every way, yet distinct in its striking appearance.
His predecessor, Dr. Light’s first model that had been robbed from the lab and altered by Wily, his “elder brother”, Proto Man.
The Red Bomber’s body was adorned in an industrial palette of dull grey, sharply contrasted by vivid streaks of vibrant red that accentuated its powerful physique. Draped over his muscular shoulders was a flowing scarf of rich, golden yellow, cascading like a regal mantle, giving the impression of nobility and pride.
Or at least some illusion of it.
Perched atop his head was a helmet reminiscent of the legendary Blue Bomber, but in a bold red hue, featuring a prominent white angular marking that sliced across the eye sections. A sleek black visor shadowed his face, obscuring the features beneath it, save for a defined nose and a mouth that was set in a pronounced frown, a clear indicator of his displeasure. The overall presence of the robot commanded attention—a striking blend of fierceness and elegance.
Although to Mega Man himself, the Red Bomber mostly served as an ever-present and consistent annoyance.
Proto Man leaned in, his voice a low, deadly purr, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. "You know, I could reduce your face to little more than a crushed tin can right now, little brother," he drawled, his eyes glinting with a cruel amusement. Given your current position, should Wily order it of me, it would be so easy. Maybe even a tiny bit satisfying, especially after that incident at Fun World," He paused, his tone shifting to a mocking tease. "But, if I may, where's the ‘fun’ in that? I mean, what's the point of this little adventure if you're not around to watch me clean up the mess you've made?" His voice took on a menacing sing-song quality, "Besides, who would I fight with if you were nothing more than a smashed up piece of scrap? It would be so boring to have you meet your end at my hands when we haven't even had any fun yet." There was a wicked gleam in his eye, a promise of violence just beneath the surface of his teasing. "So, for now, you get to keep that pretty face of yours. But don't push your luck, bro. I'm feeling generous today, but that can change in a heartbeat." His words hung in the air, a chilling blend of threat and taunt, a reminder that Proto Man's good humor was a fragile, dangerous thing. “Of course, if you maybe answer something that’s been on both of our minds for a while, it might serve to remind me why I came here in the first place.”
The Blue Bomber took a moment to process Proto Man's words, the gears in his mind whirring with recognition. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his striking blue optics, a gesture filled with both frustration and familiarity. "The answer is always the same, Proto Man," Mega Man replied, his voice steady but firm. "I'm NOT joining your side." His tone hinted at the history between them, a long-standing rivalry marked by moments of tension and unresolved conflict. Despite the constant pull of temptation to join forces, Mega Man remained resolute in his commitment to the ideals he fought for, unwilling to abandon his principles for the sake of easier paths.
“And why should I, little brother?” Proto Man asked, his voice tinged with a mix of challenge and longing. He braced himself for the familiar sting of Mega Man's words, a pain he had grown accustomed to over time. Despite the distance between them, Proto Man craved a connection, an understanding between them. Yet, the complications of their past and their vastly different roles often stood in the way. “You see, one advantage I have over you is that I don't have to walk around looking like a specimen ready for examination. Isn't the basic freedom to choose my own path enough to warrant your consideration of what I have to say?”
The Blue Bomber's expression darkened, a mix of frustration and unresolved longing in his eyes. “Not when your 'path' leaves a trail of reckless destruction and aligns you with a madman hungry for world domination,” he countered. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, a desire for understanding between them, yet his moral obligations weighed heavily on him. “And the advice you offer, I've heard it a million times before. But my answer remains 'no'.”
Proto Man remained silent, his usual cockiness momentarily faltering. Mega Man noticed the shift, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at having humbled his brother, yet also a pang of affection despite their complicated dynamics. "You sure about that, bro?" Proto Man asked, stepping closer to the restrained Mega Man and giving him a gentle poke on the cheek. The artificial skin was surprisingly soft and yielding. Mega Man looked almost vulnerable in that moment. Proto Man leaned in, his voice taking on a persuasive tone. "Look, even if some of my suggestions seem obvious, the guys back at the Skull Fortress aren't so bad. I mean, they might not be geniuses—Cut Man and Guts Man can be a bit dense—but they're a lot more fun to be around than the uptight company you keep. You should give it a chance, you might actually enjoy it, and isn't that worth something?"
“That ‘uptight company’ of yours includes family too, you know,” Mega Man retorted, his voice a mix of defiance and curiosity. “Roll, for instance. Isn't she part of that crowd, or does she just not pique your interest like I do?”
Proto Man's defensive stance hardened, his discomfort evident despite his efforts to hide it. “This isn't about her,” he insisted, steering the conversation back on course. “It's about you and me. But if you must know, if Roll didn't have that same 'goody-two-shoes' chip Dr. Light installed in both of you, she might know how to have some fun!” His mood lightened, as if he were deliberately avoiding more painful topics. “So, loosen up, spend some time with your cool big brother! Forget about everyone else and just listen to your instincts.”
With that, Proto Man pressed his index finger firmly against Mega Man's toned, muscular abdomen. The touch was invasive, almost taunting, but only meant to make a point, nothing more. Mega Man's bound form jerked in response, his systems registering no pain, yet something else entirely.
And judging from Proto Man’s reaction, the results were completely unintentional.
“What the heck was that?” the crimson automaton questioned, examining the point where his digit had made contact with Mega Man, and then scrutinizing the blue machine's countenance for any signs of distress. “You ok there, bro?”
“Did you not, just moments prior, issue a threat to disfigure my face?” the Blue Bomber countered, attempting to shift the other's focus from the recent exchange. “I... I’m fine,” he stated, though his voice held a slight tremor.
Proto Man, however, seemed unconvinced. “Are you sure about that?” he pressed, his gaze fixed on the spot on Mega Man's torso where his hand had met. “Or are you merely attempting to evade the inevitable, brother?”
“No,” the Blue Bomber shot back, his voice set with determination. “And, if anything, the only weasel around here is you—” But his retort was abruptly silenced by a relentless barrage of poking and prodding. Proto Man, his red armor gleaming even in the dim light, seemed consumed with curiosity, intent on uncovering the secret “switch” or “button” that Mega Man had unwittingly activated. With a bit more exploration, he pinpointed it. “A-Ah! E-heehee, stop that!”
The moment Proto Man stepped back, his posture shifted, allowing a glimpse of his astonishment, even with his dark visor obscuring his optics. “Oh my gosh,” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of bewilderment and glee, unable to fully comprehend the nature of his discovery. “No way!” The realization settled in, and he couldn’t suppress a smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No way!”
In stark contrast, Mega Man’s expression morphed into one of sheer terror. “H-Hey, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not—”
“Oh, it’s far more than that, bro!” Proto Man interrupted, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he drew nearer for another playful jab. The blue robot reacted instinctively, letting out a gasp followed by a forced smile that betrayed his discomfort. “You’re ticklish!” Proto Man declared, his laughter ringing through the air, full of amusement at this unexpected revelation.
“Wha, n-no! No, I’m not—ah! D-Don’t do that!” The Blue Bomber squirmed in surprise as another teasing poke jabbed into his stomach, sending shivers through his frame. His eyes widened, darting to Proto Man, who stood smugly before him.
“Priceless as this little display is,” Proto Man remarked with a roguish smile, hands casually resting on his hips, “I don’t recall you being this…reactive the last time we squared off.”
Mega Man shifted his weight nervously, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over him. “Dr. Light’s made some…alterations to my sensory input since then,” he admitted, his voice trailing off as he struggled to maintain the facade of his usual bravado. The truth hung in the air, heavier now than ever, especially with Proto Man's keen gaze glued to him. “B-But only just slightly, so…” He faltered, realizing he was exposing too much, but the red robot's predatory grin sent a surge of anxiety through him.
“Has he now?” Proto Man leaned in closer, his tone teasing yet laced with curiosity, clearly relishing this new development as his grin widened. The way he smirked made Mega Man wonder just how much further this playful interrogation would go. “What else have you been keeping from me, little brother?”
Then again, since when did his brother ever know the concept of boundaries, let alone restraint?
“N-Nothing!” Mega barked back, beginning to strengthen his struggles against the magnets holding him against the steel pier. “There’s nothing to hide, so…” he paused. As much as he hated it, the usually stalwart and prepared Super Fighting Robot found himself running out of options, let alone ways out of this. “So…So you better know what’s good for you and release me! Right now!” he tried to sound fierce, courageous, and unafraid of anything. Yet, in truth, his core was practically beating with anxiousness.
And, to his dismay, Proto Man appeared completely unaffected. “If that’s the case, then you shouldn’t mind if I do a little experimenting for myself, right?”
Oh, Asimov, he was doomed.
“W-Wait, wait! Proto, I’m warning you-hmmM!!”
Any protests Mega Man might have uttered were silenced as Proto Man's crimson fingers began to tap and prod at his brother's abdomen and sides with a mix of gentleness and deliberate intent. Proto Man's touch was non-lethal but relentlessly teasing, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile as he explored Mega Man's synthetic flesh with a newfound, almost sadistic playfulness. Mega Man's face, meanwhile, flushed with a rising tide of embarrassment, his internal circuits firing in a desperate attempt to maintain composure.
"Gah! Mmhmhmhm!!!" The blue android's efforts to suppress his reactions were futile. He bit down on his bottom lip, trying with every ounce of his processing power to keep the involuntary noises at bay. The sounds of his brother's amused chuckles only served to heighten his mortification.
"C'mon, what's the matter, little bro?" Proto Man cooed, his voice laced with a cocky, almost taunting amusement. "You know you can share anything with your big brother, right?" The pokes had given way to light pinches, each one a little more forceful than the last, designed to elicit a reaction and prolong Mega Man's discomfort. Proto Man's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glee as he continued his torment, clearly enjoying every moment of his brother's rising embarrassment.
He felt an intense urge to roar out something fierce, something heroic—words that would encapsulate his esteemed title of “Super Fighting Robot” or, as some affectionately referred to him, “Defender of the Human Race.” This title, though filled with grandeur, seemed somewhat "high" to him, considering he was merely a creation of metal and circuits. Yet, to his growing embarrassment, all that the mighty Blue Bomber could muster was a weak protest, his internal struggle accentuated by the rising tide of involuntary chortles that threatened to escape him.
“D-Don’t!” Mega stammered, biting down hard on his lower lip, a crooked grin forming stubbornly on his features despite his best efforts to hold it back.
“Hm? Don’t?” Proto Man replied with feigned innocence, his tone dripping with mock curiosity. “Don’t what, Little Boy Blue?”
The audacity of that nickname momentarily jolted Mega’s thoughts, but he was quickly yanked back to reality as he felt Proto's relentless fingers poking and prodding at every ticklish spot on his midsection. “D-Don’t do—hoohoo—ah! S-Stop!” he gasped, laughter bubbling just beneath the surface.
“Oh, ‘Don’t stop,’ you say?” Proto Man smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, I can work with that.”
“W-Wait! No! That’s not what I—” Mega protested, but his words faltered, drowned out by the relentless assault of those infuriating red digits skittering across his synthetic flesh. Each touch drew forth helpless writhing and strained giggles, his resolve crumbling as the mirth bubbled up, threatening to spill over at any moment.
“Aww, you’re loving this, aren’t you, little brother?” the Red Bomber taunted, his movements swift and unyielding, but with a new target in mind. He shifted his focus, his hidden eyes locking onto the Blue Bomber's boots, specifically the reinforced section protecting the kneecaps and lower legs. Almost time, he thought, a wicked grin playing on his lips. But not just yet. I want to draw this out.
“W-What?! N-No way! Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not-HMMM!!!!”
“Well, it sure sounds like you are! You’re giggling!” With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Proto Man moved his hands, trailing them from his brother's sides to his hips, lingering on the small expanse of blue above the lower armor. He reveled in the ticklish torment, his touch both playful and sadistic, knowing full well the effect it had on his squirming sibling. "Let's see how long you can take this," he mused, his voice a low, teasing purr.
Mega couldn't shake the frustration that simmered within him; he had always relished the idea of rising to a challenge, but this one felt insurmountable. The internal battle was fierce—he longed to prove Proto wrong, to demonstrate his resilience and strength of will. Yet, each passing moment only intensified his surprise at how long he had maintained his composure.
The final stroke over his sculpted abs shattered his resolve like glass underfoot. Laughter erupted from him, unrestrained and wild, a chaotic symphony of giggles and gasps that filled the air around them. “He—Heheheheh—Hahahahahaha!!! S-Sto-hahahaha-p!!! K-Knock it o-hahaha-ff!” he demanded (pleaded ) between fits of laughter, his body writhing as he surrendered to the ticklish onslaught. Each word was punctuated by uncontrollable bursts of mirth, leaving him utterly helpless and vulnerable in that moment. The challenge was no longer about proving something to Proto; it was about embracing the sheer joy, no matter how fleeting.
Despite being the one in the position of the “torturer”, Proto Man himself couldn’t contain the grin that continued to spread wider. “Well, wouldn’t you know it? My baby brother’s ticklish!” he then eyed another area, taking note that his sibling’s arms were pinned upward. “Although, knowing how meticulous your Doc is, I doubt you get all giggly over just one spot.”
Before Mega Man could even muster a protest, Proto Man struck, his ruby-red fingers snaking into the sensitive recesses of his younger sibling's underarms with a wicked, playful grin.
"Gotcha!" he exclaimed, his digits exploring the various crevices of Mega's toned, blue-clad body.
Mega's eyes widened in shock and embarrassment, his usually stoic demeanor crumbling as he struggled to form a coherent response. "N-No-hohohohohohahahaha!!! S-Sta-hahahahappp it!!!" he stammered, his voice a pathetic mix of laughter and desperation, his body wriggling helplessly in Proto's grip.
Proto Man's eyes sparkled with sadistic amusement as he leaned in, his voice a mocking sing-song. "Aww, come on, little bro! You're telling me you don't like a little proto-love?" he teased, his fingers migrating upward, tracing the line of Mega's neck, dangerously close to the sensitive area underneath his helmet. "Hm, I wonder if your new arm translates to any interesting upgrades under that shiny hood of yours?" he mused, his tone a mix of curiosity and mischief. Mega's face turned a shade of red that rivaled Proto's own armor, his body tensing as he tried in vain to escape his older brother's relentless tickle torture.
"P-Proto, please!" he gasped, his voice a pathetic plea for mercy.
Proto Man just laughed, a deep, throaty sound that echoed through the air, his fingers continuing their merciless assault. "Oh, this is too easy," he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "You're like a little puppy, all helpless and squirming. It's adorable!"
Oh, he thought, his shades catching a hint of moonlight in their reflective surface. This was even better than he could’ve imagined.