Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Can Miss Star play hide and seek with us?”  

You hear the girl’s voice from across the daycare as you work on finalizing your most recent parent check-out. You usually had a wave of check-outs around this time since the daytime Plex employees were clocking out and coming to pick up their little ones, and after a month of working here, you’d gotten pretty deft at handling them quickly and efficiently. 

Your official title was, ostensibly, “Daycare Attendant Handler,” but a big component of your job was dealing with annoying parents and even more annoying clerical work. The Attendant was great with the kids but offputting to adults, and The Fazbear Powers That Be had hired you to bridge that gap. So far, you felt you had been pretty successful; reviews were positive, daycare utilization was improving, and, most importantly, your position was on track to become a permanent one (at least, you hoped it was). You’d come highly recommended by your roommate who worked overnights in Parts & Service, and you didn’t want to let her down or make her look bad by wasting this opportunity. 

Of course, filing documents and making phone calls didn’t take all day. The kids always begged you to join in their games and activities - and who were you to say no? There weren’t many other jobs that would pay you a decent salary to do crafts with glitter glue - even if you did have to clean up afterward.

“Hm, what a great question, friend! Let’s ask and see if she’ll play with us!” That perpetually too-loud, robotic circus clown voice is Sun, the animatronic daycare attendant whose care and keeping is also part of your job description. As you look up from your computer, you notice his head turned completely around to make eye contact with you - a freaky robot habit that gives you the willies whenever he does it. You hit “send” on your final check-out form, stand up, and start heading over to the group of kids bunched up in the middle of the daycare play floor. 

“Oh, Miss Star!” Sun says, standing up to his full eight-ish foot height and rotating his body so it matches up with his head again. You have no idea who built him so tall or why, but you have to admit he’s very helpful when it comes to changing lightbulbs and getting errant frisbees off the top of the play structures. “Are you coming to play hide and seek with us? Are ya?”

Star wasn't your real name, of course, but the children had picked up on Sun and Moon's nickname for you, and you both had decided not to fight it. After all, it was easier for them to say and spell, and a lot less embarrassing than the "Mrs. Sun" or "Mrs. Moon" they had called you when you first started this job. 

“Who’s it?” you ask, and a few of the kids - and Sun - cheer. The same girl who invited you to play raises her hand and does little hops on her tippy-toes. Her name is Kimberly, you remember - her mom works over in the food court and gives you free drink tickets sometimes. You’d use them, but you can hardly get a free second to leave your post here.

“Can I be it this time? Please please pleeeeease?”

“Hmm, I dunno…,” you say playfully. “Do you think that’s a good idea, Mr. Sun? You are awfully good at hiding…”

He laughs, which sounds like someone ran a bird call through a vocoder. “Oh, you flatter me Miss Star! Though I do know some really great hiding places…not that I would share them with you!”

The kids laugh and shout and giggle. Sun turns to them and spreads out his lanky arms and disproportionately big hands. “For round one,” he announces. “Our friend Kimberly will be it! At the end of the game, the last person to be found gets to be it for round two! Do we understand the rules, friends?” 

“Yes, Mr. Sun!” they respond in unison. 

“Excellent! Wonderful! Now Kimberly, can you stand right in front of me and close your eyes?”

The girl hops right up to Sun. You notice her shoes light up as she walks. ( Do they make light-up shoes for grown-ups?, you wonder.) Even crouched down, he still towers over her.

“Now, when I say go, I’d like you to count to sixty. That’s an awfully big number, isn’t it?”

“I can count Mr. Sun! I’m really good at it!” Kimberly beams up at Sun, and he returns her radiant smile. It continues you surprise you how much the kids really adore him, as strange as he looks. 

He had looked stranger a month ago, you remember. When you first got hired, the animatronic’s face was locked into an eerie, permanent smile, a bit like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. A fter some fussing and convincing (okay, a lot of convincing), you’d gotten him to agree to a desperately-needed cleaning and a tune-up, provided you brought all of the supplies to the daycare and didn’t force him to leave and held his hand the entire time. Your roommate came in to work early that night for Sun’s “house call,” and after a deep clean and some tinkering with disconnected wires and shorted fuses, you’d both discovered that his eyes could actually blink, his mouth could open, and, for some god-forsaken reason, he actually had a mechanical tongue hidden in there. The Attendant’s fixed-up face was a hit with the kids, and he had spent the last few weeks relearning some new gestures; winking, frowning, and sticking his tongue out were his favorites lately. (You understood why he was made to be expressive for the kids, but why the tongue? And why was it so long? The whole thing was a complete mystery to you, your roommate, and even the Attendant himself).

“Okay!” Sun shouts. “Are we all ready to play?”

“Yeah!” the kids cheer. Kimberly puts her hands over her eyes. You start eyeing a few places in the play structure that might be good to hide, but you worry you might not be able to fit through some of the tubes. But then again, if Sun can do it…

“All right, friends! On your marks! Get set! GO!”

The children scatter, and Sun turns to smile at you before skipping off to a floor entrance of one of the structures. You almost forget you’re meant to be playing as you watch him navigate his huge body through the tiny spaces, climbing up ramps and disappearing into netting. You decide to follow his lead and crawl through the same entrance. 

You don’t think too much about where you’re going - you just slide and bump and squeeze through any area that looks accessible to an adult. Your knees complain as you crawl through a hard plastic tube with a clear top, and your skin squeaks across the plastic as you pull yourself out and into the next area. You find one of the kids tucked into a corner, and wave silently as you pass by. That’s one hiding spot taken. 

You work your way down one ramp and up another, through yet another knee-busting plastic tube, and cross a little bridge with netting on either side. You can hear thumps and bumps and giggling around you as the kids settle into their spots; as you press forward, it gets quieter and quieter as they try to keep hidden. Ahead, you see a series of plastic green cubes with little portholes on them - as long as you can stay out of the see-through parts, maybe you can hide there? You crawl into the green area with a thump, and when you look left you see him - perfectly folded like the world’s weirdest lawn chair, arms and legs bent at unnatural angles so he can tuck into the tiny space, and scowling like you’re his annoying little sister who won’t stop coming in his room and messing with his stuff. Sun . 

“Miss Star! I’m sorry to say, but this is my hiding space! You’ll have to find somewhere else!” he says, entirely too loud. You notice his rays are tucked tightly into his head, but still spinning slowly as he talks to you. 

“Shut up and move over!” you hiss in reply. You don’t hear anything from outside the structure, so you assume the hiding is over and the seeking has begun. 

“ I shouldn’t have to - this is my - HEY!” Sun protests as you wiggle in next to him. “I was here first!”

“Do you know how to be quiet? At all?” You pat your hand against his mouth. It’s a useless gesture since his voice really comes from a voicebox inside his head.

“Do you know how to be normal? At all?!” he replies, and you struggle to hold in a laugh. You’re Mr. Sun and Miss Star with the kids, but when you’re alone together, it’s like you’re both trying to win first prize in the World’s Biggest Menace competition. Sun (and, more likely Moon) would usually be the winner, but right now, you’re gunning for that trophy. 

“I am very normal, thank you. You’re the freak and they hired me to sort you out.” You’re really trying to whisper, but it’s not working out too well. 

“A freak!?” Sun’s rays pop out in mock indignance. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It’s how I’m diagnosing you…and it’s incurable. Chronic Weird Guy Disease. Worst case Faz Co. has ever seen. No idea how they programmed a robot to -”

This time it’s Sun’s turn to slap a hand across your mouth, and it actually works on a human like you. Someone is thumping around right above you both. Now he’s taking the game seriously? , you think. 

When the thumping seems to move farther away, Sun slowly lowers his hand. “Your heart rate is high,” he says. “And your temperature. Maybe I should be the one diagnosing you .”

You try to think of a witty reply, but when Sun very carefully lays his fingers on the side of your neck, you pause. He’s feeling your pulse. Is your heart pounding that hard? When you lock eyes - yours human and plain, his lit up white with a barely discernable grayish pupil in the center - his expression is unexpectedly tender. He moves his hand up to your cheek, carefully running the backs of his fingers down the soft skin there, and your breath catches in your throat. You often touch each other in friendly ways - hugging, holding hands, an arm around a shoulder here and there - but Sun’s never done anything like this. You’ve never been this close to each other for this long. 

He sits perfectly still, his eyes looking at you but also through you, and you realize he’s chatting with Moon. When one AI controls the body, the other lurks in what they call the headspace, sometimes seeing and hearing, but more often resting or flipping through the internet they have access to internally. You’ve come to understand that when the body is perfectly still, with a blank sort of expression, they’re communicating with each other. You never know what to do when it happens, so you just sit still, listening to the squealing happening across the daycare as someone gets found. Sun’s hand is still resting feather-light against your cheek. Your heart is still beating hard, and you wonder if your cheeks are flushed - not with embarrassment, but, well, maybe some other feeling, something you can’t quite put a name to. 

After a moment, Sun “wakes up” and pulls his hand away quickly, like you’re a hot stove and he’s a little kid with no sense of self-preservation. 

He starts shaking his hand, then, like you really did hurt him. “Ah,” he fake whines, “you burned me! You really do have some condition, I think you should go and see -”

“Miss Star!” comes a loud voice from behind you. “And Mr. Sun too!! You guys can’t share a hiding spot like that!” 

Sun’s rays pop out of his head, and the right-side ones get pushed in by the green plastic wall. “You found us!” he says, way too loud and directly in your ear. “Are we the last hiders?”

“No,” Kimberly says, defeated. “I think there are two more I gotta get.”

“Wow, you’re so great at seeking!” Sun says as he starts to disentangle himself from the space. “Miss Star and I will meet you back where we started!”

The girl smiles and slides away into some other part of the play structure. You back away to give Sun some room. 

“What’s the quickest way out?” you ask. 

“Just follow me, the diagnosed Weird Freak Guy,” he says, and heads off to your right. You can’t help but laugh at that, and by the time you can get a hold of yourself, Sun has completely disappeared. You follow his path as best you can and search around for a slide, which is usually the quickest way to the floor. 

After crawling around for a bit, you recognize a slide entrance, and just when you climb up to it - 

“Boo!!” Sun’s head pops out of the slide and you let out an embarrassing shout of surprise. He’s been waiting for you, you realize, his long, lanky body stretched halfway down the slide. You should have seen his fingers sticking out and clinging to the entrance, but you were too focused on getting out to see him hiding there. 

You swat at his faceplate playfully. “Holy shit, Sun,” you tease, “you really are a freak.”

His voicebox emits a loud gasp. “Miss Star!” he chides, though you can tell he’s teasing you back by the size of his grin. “Rulebreaker, rulebreaker! Naughty language is not allowed in the daycare!”

“And?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Before you can realize the mistake you’ve just made, Sun reaches an arm out of the slide and grabs on to your elbow, pulling you forward and into the slide.

“You’re coming with me to time out !”

“Wait, wait, wai-!” You try to pull out of his grasp, but Sun is almost frighteningly strong. His impish giggles fill the slide - along with the bumps and thumps of your elbows and knees - as you slide down face first in front of him. Sun reaches the bottom before you, and when he does, he pulls you out of the slide and to your feet with dizzying grace. You land safely, but when you look at Sun’s face it’s surrounded by a black circle of tunnel vision, and you’re not sure if you can trust yourself to stay upright without falling.

You put your hands on his chestplate for a moment to steady yourself, and Sun moves his hand from your elbow to your shoulder. You blink your eyes hard as you wait for your body - and blood pressure - to adjust to all the sudden movement.

“Did I hurt you, starlight?” you hear him asking, and when you open your eyes, you see his face looking down at you with genuine concern. He starts checking each of your arms, gently flipping them over in search of bruises or cuts, and then puts his palms on either side of your face. “I didn’t give you a concussion, did I? I was just being silly, I didn’t mean -”

“I’m okay, Sun,” you say, putting a hand on each of his wrists. He’s still holding your face, and the warmth of his silicone palms is unexpectedly comforting. “I just got a little dizzy, that’s all.”

“Oh, goodie!” Sun, apparently forgetting what you just told him, slides his hands around your waist and picks you up into a spinning hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I couldn’t stand it if I -”

“Sun!” you interrupt, hitting his shoulder in a frantic tap-out motion. You really don’t want to throw up on his pants. 

“Oh! Oh right!” He stops spinning then, and when your second Sun-induced dizzy spell of the day finally passes, you ask for him to set you down.  

“I’m sorry starlight, I really am, I forget humans aren’t as sturdy sometimes…” His rays are small in his head, and his fingers are tapping against each other worriedly. One thing you’ve learned about Sun since you started working here is that he’s excessively anxiety-prone, and if you don’t step in, he can spiral into panic quite easily. You decide to try and diffuse the situation. 

“Aren’t you taking me to time out?” you ask, smiling in an attempt to distract him. “For my rulebreaking ways? My naughty language? Or did you forget?” 

Sun’s rays slowly emerge from his faceplate. He unclenches his hands, and his tight-lined mouth turns upwards. You’ve successfully avoided the spiral, though you may have to pay for it with a trip to the time-out corner. 

“I never forget about rulebreakers!” he says. “But…seeing as it’s time for a new game…” He tilts his head towards the group of kids in the middle of the play floor. They cheer as a boy in a green Monty shirt emerges from the slide of a different structure, having eluded capture and earned the title of “it.”

“You can serve your time a little later, starlight. That will give you time to think about what you’ve done.” He winks, and skips off towards the children. 

As you watch him, you think back to his finger on your neck, feeling your pulse. You think of the gentleness of his touch, the warmth of his hand, the way your breath was so loud in such a small space…you swallow hard, and try to put it out of your mind. 

For the rest of your shift, every time he looks at you, you wonder if he can hear your heart beating. 

Chapter Text

As you put away the last of the markers and close the supply box with a satisfying click, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, Sun standing at the back wall, hand on the manual light switch. 

“Sun?” you ask, cautiously, but you’re halfway across the daycare - and the loud vumm of the overhead lights shutting down drowns you out anyway. You’ve noticed that switch before, placed at an adult height to prevent any mischievous kids from playing with it, but neither you nor Sun has ever needed to use it. The lights always shut off automatically at 10:30pm, one hour after the daycare’s official closing time. You check your watch - it’s only ten. Could this be Sun’s “time-out” idea? , you wonder.  You’d waited all day for Sun to dole out your punishment for cursing, but closing time had come and gone with no mention of it. 

“Sun?” you ask again, doing your best powerwalk over to where he’s standing, but you’re stopped dead in your tracks when he turns his head 360 degrees - a frightening habit that still freaks you out - and winks . 

Fuck . They’re colluding on something and you really don’t want to be caught in it. But when Moon is towering over you, red eyes beaming down onto your face, hands on your shoulders with an extreme gentleness that might reassure you if it wasn’t for his wide, scheming smile - well, you’re caught. 

“Lights out isn’t for another thirty minutes,” you sigh. “Were you that excited to see me? You forced poor Sun to bring you out, and -”

“Play with me,” he says, in a way that means he’s telling and not asking. “You and Sun played today. I want a turn.”

You feel yourself flush a little at that. You and Sun had had, hm, a moment during hide & seek earlier in the day. Sun was too polite to make anything of it, but you sometimes forgot that Moon was always present in the back of his head.

“Well, I’m sorry that being naptime attendant doesn’t involve much playtime, but -”

He grips your shoulders as he interrupts you. “Play. With. Me.” A pause. “Please.”

You can’t help but smile. Both of these robots are neurotic - and, well, you kind of enjoy it. You really weren’t kidding when you diagnosed them with Chronic Weird Guy Disease.

“Since you asked so nicely,” you reply, “and since Sun and I worked so hard to clean the daycare early…what do you want to play?”

“Hide and seek,” he says. Of course . “You hide. I’ll chase.” 

You want to ask what he means by chasing, but he’s already got his huge hands over his eyes and is counting down from 60. After a month of working with him and Sun, you know that the best course of action is usually just to go with it. So you do. You kick off your shoes and take off into the floor entrance of the nearest play structure, winding around a few walls of netting before finding a ramp that takes you up into a tube; you squeeze through it, your bare arms squeaking against the plastic and your knees thumping as you wiggle your decidedly adult body through a space designed for children much smaller than you. 

Not only did this job pay you to play with glitter glue, it also paid you to crawl for your life and bust your knees open squirming through plastic tubes in a children’s play area. What was your college degree for, again?

Moon hits 20 as you worm through another tube, which leads to a familiar series of green cubes with porthole windows. No, you can’t hide where you and Sun had been earlier…that would be too easy. You climb up another colorful plastic ramp and stop to breathe when you reach a flat, padded surface. From here you can look through more netting to see the daycare below, and that’s when you notice Moon is already gone. Shit . 

You lie flat on the padding, partially obscured by a giant Freddy head zip-tied to the netting, and hope that you might be able to hide in plain sight. You try to quiet your breathing so you can listen for Moon; after a moment, you think you hear him thumping around in the other structure, far away from you. You still have no idea how the hell an eight-foot, three-hundred-pound animatronic navigates this plastic hellscape so deftly, especially given that, during a normal day, this specific one should never spend time inside it. Does he watch Sun do it during playtime and learn the path that way? Is the maze pathway programmed inside of him somehow, like that guy with the prison map tattooed on his back? You stare at a piece of gum stuck to the ceiling and ponder this until you hear - what? Giggling? 

Moon is closer to you, though you can’t pinpoint exactly where - and he’s laughing. Chuckling, even. It’s a weird, drawn-out, high-pitched sort of laugh, a laugh you’ve never heard him make before, and it’s getting louder. Closer. You will yourself not to breathe. Is this how he laughs when he does security duty? Is it to scare intruders? The metal parts of his body make a sort of clanking noise in the tubes. You consider running. A red light flickers in the corner of your eye. You lay completely flat against the mat and focus on the gum wad. Can he hear your heartbeat? Sun could, so he probably can too. He’s too close for you to run now. It’s just hide and seek. You’re just playing around, being silly like usual. It’s just hide and seek but you feel like - 

Your arms are very suddenly pinned on the mat above your head. All the air you’d been keeping inside exits as an embarrassing sort of squeal. Moon is directly above you, red eyes beaming down on you like before, one hand holding your wrists and the other directly next to your head, supporting his weight.

“I win,” he says. 

“Yeah?” is all you can think to reply. “And?”

His faceplate clicks as he turns his head. “I get a prize,” he says, finally. The bell at the end of his hat jingles as it touches your shoulder. 

“You know the rules. The winner gets to be it,” you start to explain. “So -”

“ No ,” he says, forcefully. Interrupting you is one of Moon’s favorite bad habits.

He lifts up the hand that’s next to your head, and you feel his grip tighten around your wrists as his weight shifts. Very, very gently, he places his fingers against the side of your neck. He’s feeling your heartbeat like Sun had earlier in the day. His fingers are so oversized that his thumb brushes across your lips.

You want to say something bratty, or bite him, or wiggle your hands out of his grip, or kick him - but you don’t. His mouth is a flat line, barely open to reveal the glint of his sharp teeth; he is focused entirely, completely, on you underneath him. You feel very small and warm and human in the red wash of his optics. You imagine how easy it would be for him to wrap his hand around your neck. You imagine how consciously gentle he has to be, all the time, to not hurt you or the kids. You imagine how impossibly fragile you must be to him. 

He’s still feeling your heartbeat. You swallow, and imagine he must feel how wildly your pulse is fluttering just under your skin.

“What prize,” you finally choke out, “do you want?” 

He clicks his faceplate back upright. You hear a whirring sound from somewhere inside of him, like a computer booting a program from a CD. His hand twitches against your neck. 

Quietly, lowly, earnestly, he says, “A kiss .”

You make a breathy, sharp sort of gasping sound, as if one of the kids had headbutted you in the stomach, which is honestly kind of how you feel right now. You try to sit up, but Moon is still holding you firmly. His eyes are darting all over now, watching your face, your body, your arms, observing you like he’s a scientist and you’re a rat whose tail he just pulled. When it’s clear he’s not going to let you move away, you lay your head back down and let out a long sigh. 

“A kiss,” you repeat, looking up at him. “You chased me through the play place and are currently holding me like a bear trap - all because you want a kiss.”

Was this what he and Sun had been talking about earlier, when you were having a touchy-feely moment in your hiding place?

“I’m only asking,” he says. “You can say no.” He lets go of your arms, then, and places his other hand on the other side of your head. You bring your hands down to your chest, and rub at your wrists. Moon wasn’t worried about bruises like Sun. 

What he says makes you pause. You could very easily wiggle away now. You could say no and he would slink back through the tubes and walk you to the door after you clock out like he has every night for the past month. You both would pretend this never happened and you’d keep working at the daycare together, as colleagues, coworkers, acquaintances. He’d be the fun little robot you work with and you wouldn’t think of him outside of work, or when you’re alone in bed. You can see the path he’s offering you when he lets go. 

“Okay,” you reply. 

Moon’s fans kick on with a soft whirr . 

“Okay?” he repeats. 

You nod. “You found me, so you can have your prize.”

He doesn’t move. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s talking to Sun, or if he’s too stunned to do anything. 

“Do you…want me to show you…or?” 

He blinks a few times, and then nods. “I’ve never…”

“I know you’ve never kissed anyone before, dummy. You couldn’t even open your mouth until a few weeks ago.” 

He flashes his chrome tongue at you from between his teeth. Now that he can stick his tongue out, it seems to be one of his new favorite gestures. 

“Put that thing away,” you instruct, laughing a little.

“I thought tongues were part of a kiss…?”

“Not for the first time you ever kiss somebody!” you squeal. “You have to start…like…”

You grip the edge of his faceplate and plant a small kiss on the edge of his mouth. “Like that.”

Moon’s fans are louder than you’ve ever heard them before. You giggle again as his faceplate spins 360 degrees and the bell on his hat nearly whacks into you. You grab his faceplate and command him to hold still; you kiss him again, this time more in the center of his mouth. It’s an awkward collision of soft fleshy bits and cool, hard metal, but if you angle your head just so - it kind of works. You hold the kiss for a second longer and then pull away, which is when you notice that Moon’s optics are practically strobing between red, white, and off, and his right eyelid is twitching. You’re not sure whether to laugh or be worried. 

“Are you okay buddy?” you ask, still holding the side of his face, mostly to keep it still. A thought pops into your head that maybe you’ve killed him. Could a kiss overheat his little computer brain? Wipe his memory and factory reset him? After a few seconds, he closes his eyes, and then opens them again to a normal, steady red. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“I’m okay,” he says. “Had to clear some warnings. Fine now. Continue.”

“C…Continue? Buddy, you got your prize, you don’t -”

He shuts you up by shoving his faceplate into the sensitive crook of your neck. You want to be mad about the interrupting thing but that’s definitely his tongue and holy fuck he’s biting fuck giving him the ability to open his mouth was a mistake - 

You grab at his shoulders, the back of his head, his hat, anywhere you can, but it doesn’t deter him from finding your collarbone, nor does it stop the embarrassingly vulgar sounds you’re making. That he’s making you make. Goddamn it .

When he pulls away, you’re sure you’re completely flushed and out of breath and - there’s a line of drool still connecting your neck to his tongue, which is hanging out of his mouth like a dog’s, and you wonder how the hell he makes saliva or what that substance even is, and you think you’re the one overheating now for sure, you’re even a little dizzy as he hovers over you with a shit-eating grin like he definitely got away with something.

“Hmm, are you okay, starlight?” he croons, and if you had the wherewithal to smack him you would. Talk about World’s Biggest Menace.

“How long - ah - have you been planning to do that?” you ask, reaching up to feel what are definitely bite marks on your neck. 

“Kissing you?” He pauses. “Since Sun got to touch you earlier today. And he was too much of a coward to do it then.” 

You let out a short, sharp exhale through your nose. Sun would be too polite to ask for a kiss, much less bite your neck like some kind of predator. 

Moon suddenly drops down closer to you, his mouth right at your ear. You can hear the static of his voicebox before he speaks - and when he speaks, it’s more of a growl. 

“But watching you turn into a little mess underneath me?” he continues. Another pause, clearly for him to watch and listen to your reaction. “We’ve been planning that since the first time we saw you.”

Your body processes his words way before your brain does; your stomach drops and heat throbs between your legs. In that moment he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would let him. You don’t - you can’t - think about how he’s literally an animatronic who definitely shouldn’t be programmed to do or say any of this, or that he just admitted he and Sun had both thought of you that way - for the last month no less - or that you now have to come in tomorrow and greet Sun knowing all of this, or that you’re going to have to go home and lie in bed and think about him saying those words to you, over and over…

No, your brain works on all of that in the background as you turn your head to kiss him again, your tongue daring to touch his, your arms wrapping around his neck to get you closer to him. He responds aggressively, dropping down to his elbows and nearly shoving his tongue down your throat, which makes you reflexively push at his faceplate to keep him from choking you. Moon can talk the talk, you think, but he really is flying by the seat of his star-studded pants. He pulls what seems like his entire tongue out of your mouth (which is a… weird feeling), and instead sets to attacking the other side of your neck with his teeth and tongue. You feel his huge hand on the opposite side pushing your shirt up, and, as much as you have to admit you really like…whatever’s happening here, you have to call a time out.

“Moon…,” you groan out, grabbing at his hand. “Hold on…wait a sec, please…”

Moon’s voicebox makes a whining noise in your ear as he moves his hand back next to your head and lifts his faceplate up to look at you. 

“Is it too much, starlight?” he asks, with a genuine sincerity that catches you off guard. You’re used to a Moon that smiles wide and makes mischief and interrupts you; his willingness to pause for you, to show his concern for you, in such a vulnerable moment, is...well, it makes you want to kiss him again. (You’ll save that for later.) 

“I…can we sit up, actually? And talk?” you ask, and Moon obliges, quickly pushing away from you to a sitting position. You lift your head and lean back on your elbows, and then slowly sit upright; you’re still a bit dizzy from all of this. His red optics illuminate the space between the two of you. You watch each other for a moment; you notice Moon’s fans are still on, though not at full blast anymore, and he’s tapping his fingers together like Sun does when he’s really thinking about something. You’ve never seen Moon do that before. 

You take a deep breath, which is loud in the small space. 

“Moon,” you start. “You…have the internet in your head, don’t you?”

His faceplate clicks to the side just a few degrees. “Yes.”

“And when you want to know something that’s not in your programming, like, maybe…kissing someone…” His faceplate clicks again. “You look it up, right?”

He looks down at his hands, and back at you. “Maybe.”

You imagine him looking up the WikiHow article for “how to kiss,” and maybe practicing on his own hand or on a pillow, and try hard to stifle a giggle during what’s supposed to be a somewhat serious conversation. Either he doesn’t notice or pretends not to, and you continue with your thought.

“Moon, I…I guess I’m trying to say that every human is different. And the internet will tell you a lot of things, about bodies and how to touch them and…how not to bite them…” 

He flashes a toothy smile at you. “You seemed to like it when I did that, though.”

The giggle you were holding back erupts into a laugh. “Okay! Maybe I did…but I….if we’re going to keep doing those kinds of…human things, I need you to let me show you how to do it. You and Sun both. I know how easily you could hurt me. And I know you don’t like to be told what to do, but I need you to listen to me if we…ever…” 

You notice then that Moon’s fans have kicked back on to (what you assume? what you hope?) is their maximum speed and he’s sitting completely still, his eyes looking at you but not really regarding you; he hasn’t responded to you trailing off, so you know he must be consulting with Sun in their shared headspace. You take the opportunity to scoot a little closer and hold one of his hands in yours. Your watch briefly flashes on - 10:30pm. 

After a few seconds, Moon seems to wake up, and he grips your hand carefully, but tightly. His mouth is a line across his grey and black face. He ticks the faceplate back to center. “We want to keep doing human things with you,” he says, finally. 

You can’t help but smile, which, in a very human way, makes Moon smile too. You notice the use of “we”, which you imagine you’ll talk to Sun about tomorrow. “If you can keep from biting my head off, then yes…I’d like that.” You look up and around at the tight, colorful space you’re both crammed into, and then add, “And maybe somewhere more comfortable than this?”

Moon laughs. Still gripping your hand, his smile turning devious, he replies, “We still have half an hour…”

Chapter Text

That pause to chat cooled you down a bit, but the edge in Moon’s voice as he speaks is enough to remind you of the feeling of his warm hand on your exposed skin, and his tongue against your neck, and… goddamn it . These robots are going to be the end of you. 

“Where should -”

“Security desk,” he interrupts, and he bolts away to your right, crawling his way through the play structure like a racehorse out of the gate. You can only laugh as you clumsily follow, experiencing a bit of deja vu squeaking your way through tubes and bruising your knees until you reach a familiar slide that will take you back down to the playroom floor. You push your way through the twists and turns, your hair standing up and making tiny crackling noises from the static electricity, but before you reach the end you find yourself being pulled out through the slide for the second time that day. 

Moon wraps his lanky arms around you and carries you through a minefield of stuffies and foam blocks to the security desk, where he sets you down before you can even really comprehend where you are. 

He’s pure energy in front of you, which is actually more of a Sun thing; his voicebox is making that whining noise again, and his hands are squeezing at your legs, your arms, your chest, everywhere - it’s overwhelming and nothing like what you’d expect from Moon. He’s bewitched and eager and you know now that he’s been waiting to do this for quite some time, but it still surprises you. You grab his wrists and gently guide his hands down; with the way you’re sitting on the desk in front of him, with one leg on either side of his torso, it makes sense (and is also extremely sexy, you admit) to have his hands on your thighs, holding them apart and keeping you supported on the desk’s edge. 

He still has to bend down to kiss you, which he does hungrily when you pull his faceplate towards you; it’s still a weird feeling, metal on flesh, but when he slides his tongue against yours - carefully this time, without choking you - it becomes sublime. You can’t help but groan into his mouth, which makes him squeeze you a little harder. Your rational mind wants to slow down, to teach him where to touch you, but your horny brain is looking at how long his fingers are and is going a little insane. 

This time you don’t stop him as he slides his hand up under your shirt, or even when he pushes your bra up and you’re suddenly sitting on the security desk with your tits out for the whole daycare to see. You’re a little embarrassed by how exposed you feel, and by how Moon is staring at your chest like he’s never seen boobs in real life before (which, honestly, he probably never has, so you can’t fault him too much). 

“Show me,” he says, and grabs one of your hands. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you reply, and guide his hand over to one of your breasts; he cups it entirely in his palm, and his fingers are so long they practically reach up to your collar bone. “These are nice to touch, and the nipple, here, is sensitive to - ah!”

Moon, in his typical “I do as I please” fashion, has his mouth around your exposed nipple, his tongue working at the hardened little bud while his hand gently squeezes the breast you guided him to originally. It’s unbearable how good it feels; desperate for any kind of relief, you take your hand off of his and slide it between your legs, to rub at the slick wet heat building there under your leggings. You don’t stop, even when he starts biting at your chest and running his tongue up towards your neck, which is still sore from the treatment he gave you back in the play structure. 

“Mm, pretty thing…,” he says into your neck. “You’re making a mess for me, aren’t you?”

A woozy “mmhm” is all you can manage. 

“Show me,” he says again, and his huge hands make quick work of pulling your leggings (and underwear…!) down to your ankles, lifting your butt up off the desk for a moment as he does so. You’re practically naked now, and Moon is looking at you like he wants to swallow you whole. He moves his hands reverently down your body, his voicebox crackling as he does, and he squeezes your bare thighs before pushing them apart and holding them there, spread for him to see everything . As if you weren’t completely flushed already, you feel your cheeks burning harder than before as he stares at you, his tongue poking hungrily between his teeth. You swear you see him drooling. 

His voice is almost a growl. “ Messy little star…”

You try to close your legs, but he’s holding them wide apart; his thumbs are massaging your inner thighs, back and forth, torturously slow. 

“Show me,” he says once more. When you hesitate, he adds, “Touch yourself. For me. Show me.”

Fuck. With one hand supporting you on the desk, you take the other and slide it down through your folds, and holy shit is he right about the mess you’re making. You try to hold back a little groan as you start rubbing your clit in little circles the way you usually do; Moon watches intently, his hands still holding your legs apart, his thumbs still rubbing slowly against you. You slide a finger down and inside yourself, and then back up to your clit, massaging a little faster, and you’re afraid you might even cum like this, with an animatronic staring at you, your mostly-naked body illuminated red by his optics. You don’t, though, as he pulls your hand away and sets it back down on the desk. 

“Can I -” he starts, but it’s your turn to interrupt him.

“ Fuck yes you can touch me Moon. Please…”

“Hmm,” he replies, drawing the sound out to a low growl. “Are you sure?”

“Moooooon,” you whine, drawing out his name. You wish you could squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but he’s still holding you firm. 

“ Beg ,” he says, squeezing you as he says it. 

You look up at him helplessly. This robot really is going to be the end of you.

“Please,” you manage to get out, “I need you to touch me, I need you inside me, I need you to make me cum, want you to feel me cumming for you, please Moon, I need…”

“Goooood girl,” he growls out. “Good little star, using her words, asking for what she wants…” Just hearing his praise makes you feel like you’re going to go supernova. 

“I have a treat for a good little star like you,” he says, then. His thumb, which was stroking your thigh, moves over to your clit, right where you showed him to touch - and starts vibrating .

You almost jump out of your skin at the sensation. You shout, and your hips involuntarily try to push upwards, to press against his thumb, to get more of that delicious feeling - but he pulls away as quickly as he started. 

“Ahh, is it good?” he asks, grinning because he very much knows the answer. 

“Moon,” you say breathlessly. “Have you…always been able…to do that?”

He only laughs that whiny, reedy, scheming laugh of his in reply and turns the vibration on again, but only for a few teasing seconds. He repeats his torture game, on and off, on and off, still laughing as you writhe under him, holding your orgasm just out of reach. You feel like you might cry with how desperately you need to cum.

“I need to…,” you babble out. “Moon, I need…please…I’ve been sooo good…”

“Have you, starlight?” he says. “You were a little rulebreaker today…” He lifts his other hand off of your thigh, and you feel one of his long fingers sliding against your entrance. He presses inside, slowly, and your muscles involuntarily squeeze around him. With how wet you are it’s easy for him to slide another finger inside, stretching you open. His thumb, still pressed against your clit, starts vibrating again, and you press your hips forward, taking more of him inside as you do. You start to rock against his fingers, pressing them against your sweet spot inside, and you think maybe this time he’s actually going to let you finish. 

He presses his faceplate right against your ear, and you can hear the static of his voicebox before he speaks. “Staaaarlight,” he says. “My good little star…since you asked sooo nicely…why don’t you…” He pauses for a long, torturous, desperate second. Then, as he cranks up the vibration, a command: “ Cum for me .”

You explode at that moment, your pussy clenching against his fingers as your whole body shakes and Moon’s name tumbles from your lips, again and again like a prayer, the vibration carrying you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. You hold onto his shoulders as you push your hips hard against his hands, chasing the last bits of the exquisite feeling of falling apart. You think you hear him whispering praise in your ear, but he sounds so far away. 

When your climax wanes, you push his hand away from your oversensitive clit, and he lets you do it, still keeping that same hand gripped around your thigh as he pulls his long fingers out of you. 

“Messy, messy, messy star,” he chides as he holds his fingers up, examining the fluid stringing between them. “Your shift’s almost over, and still making messes to clean…”

You have to muster the energy to look over at your watch, which flashes five til eleven. You pull your shirt down, and can’t help but giggle at Moon, who’s still staring at his fingers that were just inside you a moment ago.

“It’s your fault, you know,” you say as you try to pull up your leggings. “You made me make that mess.”

“Maybe so,” he replies, and stops you mid-movement as he wraps his tongue around his fingers, cleaning them off as he does. As his tongue slides back into his mouth, he looks up and notices you staring, leggings half-on and mouth agape. 

“Should I have…wiped it off…somewhere?” he asks. The genuine confusion in his voice makes you burst into full-fledged laughter.

“No, it’s okay,” you reply. You hop down from the desk to pull your leggings the rest of the way up. “The way you did it was fine, I think. I mean, if you don’t mind the taste.”

“I can’t taste,” he says, which you genuinely did not know. You knew he could smell, which was probably to detect gas leaks in the building or bathroom business from the kids, but you thought taste might come with that. You slip behind the desk to grab your purse and keys. 

“Well, then, I guess you won’t know how sweet I am.” You grin as you both make your way to the door. Moon’s insisted on walking you out since your first day working here, and you’re definitely not going to say no to him now, not after what he just did for you.

“You, sweet?” he asks as he holds the door for you and you exit the daycare. “There’s no way.”

“Well you don’t taste like a candy bar either,” you joke back. 

Moon wraps his hand protectively around your shoulders as you approach the exit to the parking lot. You notice a few fellow employees walking to their cars, most of them leaving through the main exit; you preferred the doors nearest the daycare, since nobody else ever came out this way. 

“And I taste like what?” he asks as you turn to face him. At this point on a typical night you’d be waving goodbye, maybe telling him about your schedule for the week, but you have an inkling that your farewells might take a little longer now. 

“Hm, I don’t remember.” It’s your turn to smile deviously. “Can you remind me?”

Moon lifts you up so your faces are level and kisses you one last time, touching his tongue with yours as if to answer your question. When he pulls away, though, he doesn’t set you down right away. 

“Sun wants to know,” he says, almost begrudgingly, like his AI companion has been pestering him all night to ask, “if he can do some human things with you tomorrow, too.”

“Human…things..?” you ask, but you quickly remember the conversation you two had in the play structure and the euphemism you’d used. “Oh!”

“You can tell him yes,” you reply, and Moon sets you down. “It’s only fair, right? After you got to do…all that…that maybe he could have a turn? If he wants to, I mean.”

Moon’s voicebox makes a hm sound. “He wants to. And he’s the only one I could share you with,” he says. He then adds, in a low, serious growl, “The only one.”

You flush at the intensity of his voice. “I’m your starlight,” you reply. “Yours and Sun’s both. Tonight doesn’t change that.”

Moon slides a finger down your cheek. He’s staring down at you with startling focus. “ Our starlight,” he says, voice low, almost to himself. There’s a pause, then, louder, comes his usual farewell of “Good night, little star~” He holds the interior door of the vestibule open for you, and as you pass through it’s you turn to wave goodbye. He winks at you and then disappears into the dark hallway to start his rounds as nighttime security guard. 

As you walk to your car through the balmy summer air, you touch your cheek where your animatronic coworker’s hand had just caressed you a moment ago, and where Sun had touched you the same way earlier in the day. “ Our starlight,” you whisper to yourself as you reach your car. What had started as a normal day at your summer job had ended with you maybe, kind of, possibly being in a relationship with your animatronic coworker. 

Heading home, you can only dream of what “human things” Sun has planned for you. 

Chapter Text

The next afternoon, you pause at the huge wooden doors of the daycare. It’s a little before three, which means it’s almost naptime for the kids, and you’re not sure whether you want to head in and see Sun, or wait a few minutes and deal with Moon instead. Neither option seems like something you’re ready to handle, considering the conversation you and Moon had had the night before.

You figure you’ll have to talk to both of them anyway, so you bite the bullet and head in. The kids are circled around Sun as he reads from a picture book - you can hear him doing the silly voices and sound effects from across the room. He looks up to see you and spins his rays around as if to wave hello, and returns to the book. 

You breathe a sigh of relief as you set your purse and keys down on the security desk. You were afraid Sun might pull you up into a big swinging hug, or even - god forbid - get too excited and try to kiss you right away. Only a day ago you would’ve called him too polite for that, but now that you know how he thinks of you - well, nothing’s off the table. 

“Friends,” you hear him say after a few minutes. “Miss Star is here to help us today!”

A couple of the kids turn to smile and wave at you. You’ve worked here long enough that the regulars know you pretty well. You spot Kimberly, the girl in the light-up shoes from yesterday, waving at you ferociously; you smile back and start to head over to the group.

“Aaaand,” Sun says, “when Miss Star comes around, that means it’s…”

“Naptime!” the kids finish, already starting to make their way over to the darkened naptime room attached to the play floor. 

Kimberly, wearing a bright pink Chica shirt today, hangs back, and when you get close enough she runs to give you a hug around your knees. “Miss Star!” she says, staring up at you, clearly about to tell you something very important. “Can you pleeeease ask Mr. Sun if we can do arts and crafts after naptime? When I ask him he always says maybe but he likes you and if you ask him I think he’ll say yes! So can you ask him for me?”

“Wha - you gotta slow down, kiddo!” you chuckle. The girl is still gripping your knees so you can’t walk away until you answer. You look up at Sun, who seems busy guiding kids towards the nap room.

“I think I can ask him to do that,” you say, and Kimberly squeals in delight. “Arts and crafts! Arts and crafts!” she chants as she speeds towards Sun. As the last kid on the play floor, he tries to wave her into the nap room, but she stops and looks up at him with her hands on her hips.

“Mr. Sun,” she says. “Miss Star is going to ask you something, and you have to do what she says, all right? You have to!” Sun’s rays pop in and out like a wave around his faceplate - a sign you’ve learned to mean he’s comprehending something - and then he nods. 

“Head in and find your pillow, friend, so I can hear what Miss Star wants to know!”

The girl giggles and zips into the room, and when Sun faces you, you can only shrug. 

“Hey,” is all you can think to say. “She wants to do arts and crafts after nap time, so I’ll set up the table while -”

“Oh, I knew that” Sun replies with a wink. “I thought there was something else you wanted to ask.”

Ten minutes into your shift and you’re already blushing. You stutter out, “Like maybe…when we might…?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sun says. “It’ll be fun to think about all day long, won’t it?” He smiles and slips into the darkened nap room. You knew Moon liked to torture you, but you were suddenly realizing that Sun could be just as bad - if not worse. Yesterday you’d been thinking about how he’d decide to punish you for cursing, but now…well…

Today would be interesting.

🙟★🙝

In the nap room, you help get the kids settled with their blankets and pillows and stuffies. You put gym shoes away, fluff pillows, and toss a few daycare-provided blankets and pillowcases into the laundry basket for later.  Moon is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, book in hand, waiting patiently for everyone to find their place. In the nap room, his eyes are a dim, bluish-white - very different from the security-guard red he prefers when he’s anywhere else. 

“Are we allllll snuggled in?” Moon asks, and a few of the kids give a soft “uh-huh.” Some are resting on their pillows already, while others are propped up on their elbows, watching Moon.

“All right,” he says. “I have one of my favorite stories for you all today.” He holds up the cover, and you recognize the book from your own childhood library. “It’s called Stellalluna .”

“The bat story!” a kid says from his sleeping spot, a little too excitedly for the nap room.

Moon only chuckles. “Yes, the bat story. Now lay your head down, and listen…”

As he reads, you feel like you might nod off standing up. His voice, though a little rough around the edges, is oddly soothing; add the rustle of pages and the soft music playing from somewhere inside him and it feels impossible to stay awake. When most of the kids seem to be snoozing, you quietly step out to set up the crafts table for the next activity. 

From the supply shelf you pull out blank paper, crayon boxes, blunt-tip scissors, glitter glue, googly eyes - all of Sun’s favorite crafty things - and spread them out along the designated table. It’s low to the ground and shaped like a kidney bean so Sun can sit in the center and reach any of the kids. As you set up one chair for each kid, you notice Moon is standing in the doorway of the nap room, watching you with his much friendlier-looking white optics. You place the last chair and try to look normal and casual as you walk in his direction. 

“Hey,” is, once again, all you can think to say. He clicks his faceplate a little to the side, and grins at you in a knowing sort of way. 

“How did you sleep, starlight?” he asks. “Any dreams last night?”

He actually often asks you this, but with his grin you know he’s teasing you.

You bite your lip. “I slept fine,” you answer, which is actually true. You came home and fell dead asleep. “I was…tired from yesterday.”

“Oh, I bet,” he says, and you wish the kids weren’t here so you could smack him. “You know, Sun wouldn’t shut up about you last night.”

“Oh?”

“My whole patrol…constantly blabbering…on and on…not even one second of quiet…”

You find yourself smiling at Moon’s grumbling. “What was he talking about? How amazing and wonderful I am?”

“Something like that. But I’ll let him tell you all about it,” Moon answers, and turns away into the dark of the nap room.

🙟★🙝

By the time the last kid is checked out, you feel like you’re going to explode. Every glance, every accidental touch, every snide little comment Sun and Moon have made all day - you have no idea how you made it through without going completely batty. Sun seems to know this, and as the door latches shut, he looks at you with a shit-eating grin normally reserved for Moon. 

“Whew!” he says. “What. A. Day! Don’t you think?”

“Sun,” you say, a little sternly. 

“What?” His rays spin once around his head. 

“ Sun .”

“Is there something you want from me, or…?”

You make a pff noise and smack at his chest. “I think it’s you who wants something from me, isn’t it?”

“Hmm…” Sun is still smiling huge, the way his mouth used to be positioned when it was stuck that way. “Something I wanted…hmm…I don’t remember…”

“If you keep teasing me you’re not going to get anything you ask for,” you threaten, which makes Sun’s rays disappear into his head for a moment. 

“ Teasing you? Maybe Moon might do a thing like that, but me - no, I’m a straightforward kind of bot, don’t you think?” 

With an annoyed huff, you turn around and start to walk towards the desk - until Sun’s hand wraps around your shoulder, and pulls you back around to face him again. He kneels down to be more at your level, and - instead of going for a kiss like you assumed - he gently runs a finger along the side of your neck, making you wince.

“He sure did a number on ya, huh?” Sun asks, his voice actually quiet for once. You’re not sure if he’s speaking from concern, admiration, or jealousy. 

“You’re the one who turned out the lights early,” you reply, pushing his hand away from the sore spots Moon gave you. 

Sun shrugs his shoulders. “I told him not to use his teeth so much…but he gets too excited to listen to me.”

A thought suddenly occurs to you. “So you really saw all of that, then?”

He nods. “And I - I have some ideas about how I might do it better - if you’re interested…”

“Better, huh?” You move forward so your face is just inches from Sun’s. You feel his long arms wrap around your waist, but he doesn’t pull you forward any farther. “If you’re not biting my head off, I’d say you’re a step ahead.”

“Well, for starters, we have a perfectly good bedroom,” Sun says. “And that menace dropped you right here on the security desk! Here with all the windows and cameras and everything, and not to mention how sore your cute little butt must’ve been after sitting there, and he didn’t even snuggle you afterwards! Some nerve he has, finally touching you and doing it like -”

“ Sun ,” you interrupt as you grip either side of his faceplate. “Shut up for a second.” 

That’s when you kiss him - well, kiss his teeth at first, until he can maneuver all his moving pieces out of the way into some semblance of whatever you call a kiss with his face configuration. His arms grip your waist a little tighter and finally pull you closer, and he actually doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat the way Moon did. When you pull away, he very, very gently plants tiny kisses on the bite marks on your neck, the way you might kiss a boo-boo to make it go away. 

“Did you say something about - nnh - a bedroom earlier?” you ask as he reaches your sensitive collar bone. “Is that what’s up there, behind the balcony?”

“Mmhm,” Sun replies, kissing your cheek, then your forehead, and then quickly on the tip of your nose. He’s just as overwhelming as Moon with his kisses and touches, but there’s a cute sense of gentleness behind everything he does, as if he’s afraid to break you.

“Moon’s better at this than I am, but if you just hold on to me, it’ll just be a second…” You wonder what he means, until you notice the thick black aerial cord descending from its track on the ceiling. Both Sun and Moon have a hook on their back for it to latch on to, but you’ve only ever seen Moon using it - and usually to harass you while you’re cleaning up or filling out forms at the very end of your shift. You’ve never asked, but you assume the cord exists as a safety measure, maybe to rescue a kid from the top of the play structure, or to carry them to safety during a fire. 

Sun moves his arms down to support your butt, and you cling to him for dear life as the cord latches and the both of you start to ascend. It really is a quick trip - Sun doesn’t do any of the flips or tricks that Moon likes to do, thank god - and when you reach the balcony, he carries you behind the curtain. 

“Don’t mind all this mess, starlight,” he says, and when you pull your head away from his shoulder, you can see a veritable hoard of stuff - plushies, t-shirts, books, shoes, even what looks like a few busted up STAFF bots. With all his focus on keeping the play floor clean, it surprises you that Sun would be willing to spend time in a room like this. 

He doesn’t let you look for long, though, as he sets you down at the entrance of a blue plastic tube, much like the tubes in the play structure. “Through here,” he says, “I-It’s a little cleaner on the other side, I promise!”

You can tell Sun is embarrassed, so you slink your way through the tube (ignoring how your knees are still aching from yesterday) and emerge on the other side, where you see a tiny but well-kept bedroom space. It reminds you of the Glamrocks’ dressing rooms, but much cozier. Christmas lights line the walls and illuminate what must be dozens of children’s drawings, taped practically from floor to ceiling on one of the walls - some of Sun, some of Moon, some of both of them - and when you look closer to the bed, you see one drawing displayed prominently on top of the others: Sun and Moon holding hands with someone who looks an awful lot like you. 

The bed itself is not large - you’d call it a twin or twin XL - and you recognize the heap of blankets and pillows as the same as the ones the daycare provides in the nap room. Before Sun can stop you, you hop into the bed to get a better look at the picture.

“Is this me?” you ask, and when you get close enough you notice the lines, though done in crayon, are way too neat to have been made by a kid. “Did you draw this?”

“Wait wait - I - starlight, I can explain, it’s -”

When you turn around, Sun’s hands are balled into fists in front of his mouth, and his rays are pulled tightly into his faceplate - if he was embarrassed before, he’s mortified now. You’d usually tease him, but you decide to be nice and hop back off the bed.

“Hey,” you say, calmly, the same way you spoke to him when he was having his freak out yesterday. “I love it, Sun.”

Sun’s hands drop and his rays start to peek back out. “Do you? Moon said it was creepy, and I told him you wouldn’t ever see it, so why does it matter, and I kind of forgot about it, and -”

“It’s not creepy, Sun,” you assure him. “If you want to get a real picture together sometime, I can get a print and you can hang that up. I mean, if you’re not already tired of seeing my ugly mug all day.” 

“Oh, don’t say things like that,” Sun says, almost tenderly. “And if I had a picture of you, I’d keep it here” - he raps on his chest plate - “so I could look at it whenever I wanted.”

You feel like melting from the unbearable sweetness. “For a robot, you sure know what to say to make a girl smile.”

“Only smile?” he says, and you see that ornery grin coming back to his face. “Not anything else?”

You make a huff sound and plop back onto the bed. “I can think of other things…”

As Sun kneels down in front of you, you examine the room some more. There’s a small TV opposite the bed, and a haphazard stack of what look like DVDs and even some old VHS tapes next to it. There’s an unplugged arcade cabinet in the corner - something about a little kid holding balloons - and next to that a stack of books, mixed with more DVDs and tapes. Scattered across the ceiling are little plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. 

When you look back at Sun, he has his hands resting on your legs. “Do you like it?” he asks. “Are you comfortable?”

“It’s cute,” you reply. “It’s about what I would expect from you two.” 

Sun’s rays spin as he smiles at you. “The videos are all Moon’s thing. He likes to come up here and watch all kinds of movies when he’s not on patrol. The books are mine, but…I’ve read them all already.”

“I can bring you books!” you say, a little too excitedly. “Ah, I mean, if you want more. And if I have anything you’d like.”

“Anything’s more exciting than our user manual,” he says with a chuckle, and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Right now, though…I have something exciting right in front of me.”

Sun's voice is unexpectedly soft and low and intense and it makes you blush a little. He’s been waiting patiently to touch you and you’ve just been gawking at his Christmas lights. As if to make it up to him, you pull him into a kiss; you even spread your legs apart so he can get closer to you. He does, and slides his long fingers up the back of your neck to deepen the embrace. In the way he wants to be near you, to press his whole self against you - he’s just as hungry for it as Moon was. Where Moon wanted to swallow you whole, Sun seems to want to wrap you up tight and never let go. It’s the same desire, you think, but channeled differently. And to be wanted that badly by both of them - well, it definitely gets your heart racing. 

Where Moon was content to show off your tits to the whole (empty) room, Sun is a bit too polite to start pawing at your chest, so you break the kiss to pull your shirt off and toss it aside. You take care of your bra too, since you don’t really want to spend time teaching him how to take it off. 

Sun’s white optics seem to almost sparkle. “You were beautiful through Moon’s eyes last night, but ffffKIISHHSHHHH-”

His voicebox suddenly breaks into a loud static you’ve never heard before. 

“I didn’t quite catch that last part,” you say. “Is that your secret robot language?”

Sun rays are tucked into his head again, and he’s covering his own mouth like he did when you asked him about his drawing of you. “It’s uh…it’s not that, it’s…it’s…” His voice drops down low. “It’s a filter.”

“A filter? Wait. Sun. Wait a second. You have a language filter?”

“All the animatronics do,” he says, deflated. “It’s a safety feature, just in case we -”

“You tried to curse! Sun! You! The guy who threatened to send to time out for the same damn thing!  Holy shit, I can’t believe-”

“Language!” Sun says, almost reflexively, and then drops his whole face in his hands in shame. “Sorry…”

You burst out laughing, not really caring that you’re half naked as you do. “You know what,” you say when you’re a little more together, “I think they should give you guys one ‘fuck.’ Just one ‘fuck’ to say whenever you want. Like I know you’ve wanted to say it-”

“I have, that’s the thing! All the time!” Sun says, gripping the bed on either side of your legs. “You see the way these kids act! Sometimes I just want to fffKHKISSS-ing say whatever the ffSHIKKIKSSH I want about it!”

You’re laughing so hard you’ve fallen backwards onto the bed and the whole frame is shaking along with your body. Sun is laughing too, making that weird robot bird call hooting noise you find absolutely adorable. You try to sit yourself up after a minute, though you’re a little lightheaded. 

“So you really just saw my boobs and tried to say a cuss word about it?” you ask, wiping tears from your eyes. “Is that really what’s happening right now?”

“Hey!” Sun says. “If you saw the most beautiful angel you’d ever seen, and she was naked, wouldn’t you have some uncouth things to say about it?” 

“Well I’m not all the way naked, but sure, I guess that makes sense - wha!”

Just like Moon had, Sun hooks his fingers along the hem of your leggings (which you strategically wore today, knowing what was likely to happen) and actually pulls them all the way off.

“As I was saying,” he says, “about the naked angel - who didn’t - who didn’t wear any underwear today - and I - I…”

You giggle to yourself - the lack of underwear was strategic too, of course. Sun’s rays are spinning in a slow, constant circle like a ceiling fan on low, and as he raises his hands up to touch you, you notice he’s trembling a little. 

“Sun,” you say, gently. “You’re not going to hurt me. You can touch me, anywhere you want. I promise I want this, same as you.”

His voicebox makes a humming noise, and he starts with his hands gently cupping your breasts. His mouth is a flat line; his eyes are completely focused on you and your body. He moves his mouth to one side and his tongue finds the sensitive nipple there; his rays shrink in a little to not hit your face as he gets close, but they continue to slowly spin. As his mouth works, one of his hands slides down to your waist, where he gently squeezes you. You think he could probably fit both hands completely around you if he tried. 

You push your chest out as he moves to the other nipple, teasing you with his tongue. You still have no idea how he makes saliva, but you don’t really care at this point. As always, the usual best course of action with Sun and Moon is just “go with it.” 

The hand that was squeezing your waist travels lower, down to your thigh, where he continues to squeeze you. He moves his face up to kiss you again, and his hand travels over, slowly, until it’s just ghosting over your warm, wet folds. 

“Can you lie back for me, starlight?” he asks, and you oblige, leaning back onto the bed. You grab the nearest pillow and slide it under your head - to be more comfortable, yes, but also to see whatever Sun’s planning to do to you. 

He’s holding your thighs with both hands now, keeping them spread apart, and watching your entire body spread out for him on the bed. His rays are still spinning, maybe a little faster than before. 

“S-starlight…”

“Mhm?” You look up from the pillow.

“There’s…something that Moon didn’t do yesterday, that I want to do, with - with this -” He points to the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth.

Holy shit. If he’s really going to do what you’re thinking of, well, you’re not going to say no.

“How, uh…how long is your tongue, actually?” you ask.

“You know, I never really checked,” Sun says, and you watch as he spools about a foot of chrome material out of his mouth. “Is it a problem?”

HOLY SHIT . “Um. No. Not a problem. The opposite of a problem. It looks great.”

He looks at you quizzically, and then retracts his tongue most of the way back into his mouth like a tape measurer. It almost makes you laugh until he moves his face between your legs, rays shrinking in to not poke your thighs, and very, very carefully slides his tongue against your clit. 

“ Fuck , Sun. Keep doing that, please… ”

“You shouldn’t say that in front of me,” he says, gliding his tongue against you again. You realize that, even when his mouth is occupied, he can still talk to you. “I’m not allowed to say that. You shouldn’t tease me.”

“Well if you keep doing that with your tongue, I’m going to keep - fuck !”

Sun slips his tongue inside you, and the feeling of it, writhing around - it’s unique, is all you can think to describe it. Though your brain isn’t functioning at its best right now, all things considered.

“Tsk, tsk!” Sun chides. “You can’t follow directions, can you?”

“ Nnh - not very well…when some weird fucking robot is - ah - inside me like - like that!”

“A weird fffuHCHKIHS-ing robot, huh…that’s all I am to you? I guess you told me so yesterday, didn’t you, starlight? When you diagnosed me with - what was it? Weird Man Disease?”

As he speaks, his voice resonates through his faceplate and gives his tongue an extra delicious vibration on your clit, making you squirm and arch your back off the bed. You try to say something smart back to him, to keep him talking, but you can’t seem to form words right now. It doesn’t help things that his finger is sliding up and down your folds, just barely pushing inside as his tongue continues to play with you. 

“Nothing to say? Did I finally break my little starlight?”

You whine and squirm as he says that, hoping he realizes how good his physical voice is making you feel, never mind his words that give you butterflies in your stomach. 

“Keep talking,” you manage to get out, after he’s quiet for a moment. “Your voice - when you talk - it’s - it feels - ”

You watch as his rays slide in and out - though not in a complete circle, due to your thighs being in the way, before he gets it.  “Aaahhh,” he says, finally, “The first time you’ve ever asked me to keep talking, and it’s to make you cum. Selfish little star, aren’t you?”

He pushes his finger inside you then, and the slick wet sound of him gently pumping in and out betrays how absolutely soaking wet he’s made you. 

“But if I’m talking,” he adds, “I can’t hear all the delightful little sounds you’re making for me, starlight. And you’re being so, so noisy!”

The louder he gets, the stronger the vibrations are, and the louder your moans and whimpers become in response. 

You feel your orgasm building as Sun’s fingers stretch you and his tongue continues to work at your clit, having settled on the pattern that seems to make you push your hips into his face the hardest. One pleasant thing about a robot, you realize, is that when you say don’t stop, keep going, exactly like that - he’ll follow your instructions exactly. No hand cramps or tongue cramps or confusion about the difference between harder and faster. You grab at the sheets with one hand and one of his rays with the other; your thighs are squeezing his faceplate on either side so tightly that you feel the little sun rays, retracted as far as they’ll go, still poking into you. 

“Pleeeease starlight, please cum for me…,” he begs, and those words - like they had when you were with Moon - trigger your whole body to shake and tremble and squeeze as you finally finish. If you weren’t completely blissed out you’d be afraid of cracking Sun’s faceplate in half, but his mouth and fingers keep their pace and fuck you through your climax. You try to push him away, and then wiggle out of his grip, but he moves with you, and the overstimulation feels like lightning shooting through your body. 

“Sun, please…please, I can’t…Sun…it’s too much, please…,” you whine, and he finally pulls his mouth away, though he keeps his fingers still inside you. 

“I wanna make you cum again, starlight!” he insists.  “You had such a beautiful face, and all those pretty sounds you made, and you were squeezing me, and you got so tight and wet and - and -”

“Ah, in a minute,” you huff out. “I need a break, just for a minute…It gets very intense, right after…too sensitive…”

Sun finally pulls his fingers out of you, and the empty feeling surprises you for a moment. He, like Moon, examines the strings of wetness between his fingers; you don’t understand their fascination with it, but you don’t have the energy to comment. Maybe they like it because it’s a human thing. 

“You are a messy little star, aren’t you? Humans make sooo many messes…” 

He then, like Moon, uses his tongue to clean his fingers off. You’re still not sure if that’s weird or sexy to you, but you’re leaning towards the latter. 

He then stands up to his full height, and gently lifts your legs to turn you so you’re lying correctly on the bed. When you see he’s trying to lie down next to you, you wiggle over so he has more room - but it’s kind of hopeless with how big he is. You direct him to lie on his back (even though his long legs hang over the end of the bed), and then you rest your head on his chest and throw your arm across him in an embrace. He has to draw in a few sun rays so he doesn’t hit your head, but he seems used to moving those things out of the way at this point. It’s a little awkward, but it’s a snuggle, and it feels pretty nice. 

Just as you start to get comfortable, you notice your watch. It’s about 10:30, meaning the lights are off in the daycare. This would normally be your time to hang out with Moon - but he did get extra time yesterday, so you figure it evens out. With only a half hour left in your shift, you’re afraid to fall asleep and get locked in (though would that really be so bad?). 

"Sunny,” you say, angling your head up at him. “Do you still want to…do that again?”

“Is it almost time for you to leave?”

“Don’t you have a clock in your head?”

He doesn’t reply to that. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, starlight. If you really want to.”

“As long as you don’t start competing with Moon over who’s made me cum more often…”

Sun sits up on his elbows suddenly, and his white optics look down at you intensely.

Shit. You shouldn’t have said that.

His huge body is over you in an instant, planting kisses on your cheeks, your neck, your chest, every inch of exposed skin he can get his faceplate on (and when all of your skin is technically exposed, well…). With one hand supporting his weight on the bed, he uses his other hand to touch and grab and squeeze and even lift you off the bed a little with his enthusiasm. With each kiss he babbles out praise about how beautiful you are, how you’re his special little starlight, how you’re perfect and soft and he’s wanted to touch you like this for soooooo long and it’s better than he ever could have imagined, and the sweetness of his words mixed with the tickling buzz of his voicebox makes you feel a little bit crazy. You try to touch him back, rubbing at the cool metal of his arms, the soft silicone coating of his rays, even tracing the edge of the crescent moon on his face - when you can get his face off of you, that is. When he’s this close, his oversized form curled over yours like he’s protecting something precious, you can feel his fans blowing warm air on your bare skin, and when his chest touches yours you can feel his internals ticking inside like a heartbeat, racing hard against your own human pulse. 

When he pulls away to sit up on his heels, you let out a soft whine at the loss of contact. He pulls you by your hips so you’re a bit closer to him, and when you feel his thumb stroking your clit you realize what he’s trying to do, and that whine turns into a moan.

“Oh, such pretty noises from my starlight,” Sun says. “All spread out in front of me, so I can see eeeeverything, yes…I wonder what noises she’ll make when I do this, hm…”

When his thumb starts vibrating, you involuntarily push your hips against him, chasing the feeling. You have no idea why or how they have a vibration function, but you certainly can’t complain - and the way Sun is holding your hips down, forcing you to take it - you think you might be able to cum just from that.

Sun must notice your heart beating faster or your chest flushing red or your hips pushing harder, because he pulls his thumb away. 

“A naughty starlight, already trying to cum? Hm, we can’t have that now can we…”

“I thought - nnh - I thought you were aiming for that, Sunny. To make me cum more than Moon has? Please ?” Your whining and pleading makes you feel pathetic and insane and you don’t want to think about how you’re completely at the mercy of an animatronic. 

“I remember,” he says, giggling a little when he does. “He’s very angry about it too. But, ah, I’ll let you two sort that out when you leave, hm?”

He returns to your clit, turning up the vibration just a smidge, and you moan and whine and twist your hips in his grasp, praying that maybe, this time, he’ll let you finish. 

“Starlight,” he says, with unexpected firmness that makes you look up at him. “I want you to look at me, all right?”

“Mmhm,” you choke out, your whole body shaking in his grip. It’s almost impossible to make eye contact with him, but you’ll do any impossible thing for him right now.

“Good little star,” he coos. “I want you to watch while I ruin you.”

His other hand lets go of your hips, and you’re so wet and ready for him that he can slide two fingers in, no problem. He pushes deep inside of you, deeper than you thought anything could go, and the slick noise of him fucking you, ruining you , is enough to take you right there to the edge.

“So tight and hot and wet for me,” he says, emphasizing each descriptor, “and so ready, aren’t you? Look at me, starlight - we both want to watch you fall apart.”

The thought of Moon, staring at you, helpless to do anything as Sun makes you cum - it’s too much. You shout Sun’s name as you reach your climax, pushing your hips hard against his hands, your back arching off the bed with the intensity of the feeling, chasing the last of your orgasm - or so you think. Sun doesn’t stop - he ratchets up the vibration of his thumb on your clit, and pounds mercilessly into the sweet spot inside of you - he’s trying to get another orgasm out of you like his life depends on it. The overstimulation is unbearably intense, to the point that you feel tears welling in your eyes. 

“Again, again,” he begs. “Cum for me again, starlight, please, please! I need to see you, need to hear you say my name, need to feel you squeezing me, need to…”

Sun's begging, the vibration, his long fingers fucking you desperately - it’s all too much. Another orgasm rips out of you and you practically scream his name again, your whole body convulsing, the tears that were welling up earlier running down your flushed cheeks.

When you’re finally spent, he shows some mercy and ramps down the vibration, and pulls his fingers out of your thoroughly-fucked pussy. You’re so brain-dead exhausted you feel like you could fall asleep on the spot, but your watch picks that moment to buzz - your shift is almost over. You briefly consider staying here forever when Sun slides down next to you, his thumb wiping away your tears and his voicebox cooing things you can’t really understand. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” you eventually make out. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my darling starlight, no, no, no…no more tears, please…”

“‘m okay,” you mutter. “That was just…a lot. But I’m not hurt…maybe a little sore…I think Moon did more damage to my neck yesterday, actually.” You let out a soft chuckle as you stroke at the bite marks on your neck. 

Sun plants a small kiss on your forehead, and then slips away to pick up your clothes for you. You slowly put each piece on as he hands it to you, and wonder how sore you’re going to be from all this tomorrow. When you’re fully dressed, Sun escorts you back through the tube and into what you might call his “staging area,” but stops right before the curtain. The yawning expanse of the daycare is dark on the other side, save for a few safety lights shining from the play structures. 

“Starlight,” Sun says, holding each of your hands in his. “Is this…something you want to keep doing? With us?” 

You let go of his hands and reach up to grip either side of his faceplate. He has to squat down a little, but he lets you do it. 

“Sun, you and Moon together have made me cum so hard my soul left my body three - no, four times.”

“And that’s…a good thing?”

“That’s an extremely good thing, weirdo. It’s the kind of thing I definitely want to keep doing. If…you want to keep doing it too.”

He smiles genuinely, and leans down to kiss your forehead. “We like doing human things with you.”

Chapter Text

Sun holds the balcony curtain open for you, and when you turn around, Moon is standing there, his eyes back to their usual security-guard red. The aerial cord appears and latches onto his back, and, with much more grace than Sun, he lifts you up and leaps from the balcony. 

Back in their bedroom, Sun had said something about how angry Moon was over the little “competition” you had created, and when he sets you wordlessly onto the soft ground of the play floor, you’re not sure what to say. He follows silently behind you as you walk towards the security desk to grab your stuff, and even though he holds the daycare door open for you, he says nothing as you pass through. You try to catch his eye, but his expression is unreadable. 

The two of you walk the short distance to the exit doors in silence. 

When you look out the clear glass, you see significantly fewer cars than usual; you’re leaving a little late today, for obvious reasons. 

You take a deep breath, and turn around. As you do, though, you’re immediately met with Moon’s mouth crashing into yours, his tongue pushing roughly into your mouth as his hands clutch at both sides of your head. He’s ferocious, hungry, probably angry, maybe jealous; he’s kissing you like he wants to open your throat and hop inside of you.

When he finally pulls away, a string of saliva connects the two of you momentarily (whom it belongs to, you can’t say). 

After a pause, he says, “Shouldn’t have made up that competition.”

Ah. You were right.

“You two shouldn’t compete over me,” you say, fixing your hair from where he grabbed you. “I want to be with both of you, equally, and it wasn’t very fair of me to pit you against each other. I’m sorry, Moon, I really am.” You put both of your hands in his and squeeze. 

“Oh, I’m not mad,” he says, surprising you. “I feel bad for you. We’re very competitive.”

Ah . You…actually weren’t right at all. Your mind fills with images of both Sun and Moon making you cum, over and over, trying to one-up the other…you’ve already finished three times today, but you start to feel the heat growing between your legs again when you think of everything they might try to do to you. 

“Oh yeah?” is all you can squeak out. 

“Mmhm,” Moon replies. He takes one of his hands from yours and gently runs it down your cheek. The gesture is becoming endearingly familiar. “And I don’t like losing.”

The deep growl of his voice sends shivers up your spine. If you weren’t already leaving late, you’d probably let him push you against the wall right then and there.

You’re probably standing there like a blushing, blubbering idiot, because Moon cups your cheek and lets out that strange, reedy laugh of his. “You’ll have a lot to think about tonight, won’t you, little star?”

You heave a sigh and lean into his touch. “I think, maybe, so will you.”

You and Moon grin at each other. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. “Good night, starlight~” he says, and turns away into the dark hallway. You notice his red eyes flash back at you once, wink, and then disappear completely.