The Astrobot is Broken

It's 3 pm, and they had found riverside. After deciding where they will build their second day's camp, they don't waste time and build the tent. 

"I'll do it," Jacques take the initiative to build the tent, after noticing that Charles has difficulty. 

"We are here to collaborate effectively. The intellectual shall handle the structural design, while the physically capable shall attend to the water procurement," Charles stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Without saying anything, Jacques walked over to the tent and fixed the crooked frame, adjusting the misplaced bone structure until it was sturdy and aligned. He then covered the structure with the canvas, making sure it was properly secured. Charles didn't expect Jacques to be so precise in building things. How? This guy was always spontaneous, never planning ahead—he didn't seem like the type to think through anything, let alone construct something so neatly.

Jacques glanced at him with a poker face, tired of the constant underestimation. "Maybe intelligence is not only about talking smart, ya?"

Without waiting for Charles's response, Jacques grabbed the water gallons and headed toward the river to refill them.

Not only did he refill the gallons, but Jacques also folded his pants up to his knees and waited patiently with his feet in the cool water. As he observed the wild fish swimming nearby, he noticed their swift movements. When he spotted a target, he dipped his fingers into the water, carefully waiting for the right moment. When a fish bit his finger, he quickly snatched it from the current with his bare hands.

His grip was strong, and as he plunged the fish into the gallon, its gills snapped, the fish already lifeless. For a moment, the act of hunting fish brought him back to his childhood, when he was raised by his mother dog. He had figured it out on his own, simply by watching the other kids did it. Back then, he had even eaten it raw, the taste of fresh catch lingering in his memory.

Jacques chuckled to himself, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he skillfully captured four fish in a short span of time. He put the fish inside one of the three gallons. On his way back to camp, he felt good about the dinner's menu tonight.

When he returned, Charles was already at the campfire, the pan warming over the flame, ready to cook something with eggs and flour.

"Hey Astrobot, forget the pancakes, I caught some fish, they're fresh!" Jacques dropped the gallon with four dead fish in it. The fish's guts floated in the fresh water, making Charles disgusted.

"Eww...! This is a direct violation of established hygiene protocols!" he scolded.

"We will use the water to cook too, so it doesn't matter if it's dirty," Jacques argued.

"Jacques , this blatant disregard for basic sanitary standards is absolutely intolerable! The integrity of the water has been irreparably compromised, and you intend to use it for cooking and bathing?! This is a clear breach of every conceivable hygiene protocol!"

"Ugh! You drive me mad!" Jacques groaned. He then grabbed Charles and, once again, carried him over his shoulders, walking toward the river.

"Put me down immediately! What do you think you're doing?! This is highly inappropriate!" Charles shouted, struggling in Jacques's grip. He got a bad feeling about this.

"It's time to loosen up that tight ass!" Jacques threw Charles into the river. Its depth was only 0.8 meters, so he would survive.

Charles gasped for air from underwater, his whole body soaking wet now. Before he could get angry at Jacques , Jacques had already removed his shirt and jumped excitedly into the water.

"Jacques ! This is the final straw! Once this is over, I will formally request for you to be removed from my unit! I've had enough of your nons—" Before Charles could finish his sentence, Jacques grabbed his foot from underwater so he could no longer shout because his mouth was now submerged, releasing some air bubbles.

Jacques rose from the water and screamed in excitement, "Woo-hoo!! Doesn't it feel fresh, Astrobot? Nothing like bathing in the fresh water!"

Charles also rose from underwater and said nothing, but there was an angry, resentful glare on his face. He couldn't stand how Jacques always refused to follow his vibe, refusing to be tamed down. He always fought back against his commands. Charles hated him so much! He let it out by splashing water on Jacques's face. Jacques responded with laughter, as if they were kids playing in the water.

"Don't laugh, damnit! Get mad or cry, because I'm really mad at you right now! Be scared of me, respect me, dammit!" Charles screamed in his head, expressing it through each splash of water on Jacques's face.

But instead, Jacques proceeded to capture Charles with his arms. It felt like a hug, but Jacques successfully disarmed Charles's hands. The consequence was that now their faces were very close. Somehow, being this close to Jacques made Charles unable to describe how he felt. So many emotions mixed in his chest, but one thing was for sure: he knew his ears and neck felt hot.

"There you go," Jacques smirked, enjoying Charles's facial features trapped in his arms. His blue eyes, his pink lips, they are so delicate. "You look better when you're quiet like this."

Charles looked away, avoiding eye contact, trying to defend himself against those attractive, fiery eyes that stared at him boldly, dominating. When he noticed Jacques leaning closer to his lips, his brain tried to decide whether he should accept it or walk away.

But then, he decided to push Jacques away with a strong shove.

Being pushed away, Jacques laughed as if he had just heard a super hilarious joke.

"Stay away from me, you imbecile!" Charles said, leaving the water.

"Come on! Be honest with yourself, Charlie! I know you keep looking at my abs whenever I change clothes, using your book to cover your face!"

"I'd rather die than be with an idiot like you!" Charles retorted as he left Jacques and returned to the camp.

Jacques cannot stop laughing, "he broke his robotic speech!"

Returning from the river, all soaking wet, Charles grunts, "Yeah, big dumb guy? So manly of you, huh? Don't get all cocky yet, you shrimp-brain!"

He enters the tent and immediately starts removing his wet clothes, changing into dry ones. As he does, his mind keeps drifting back to the sensation of being in Jacques's arms. Jacques's warm skin, those strong arms wrapped around his body—it made Charles feel owned, dominated, unable to fight back, but at the same time, ... he likes it. And those hazel eyes, bold and unyielding, linger in his thoughts.

A pang of regret strikes at the back of his mind. I should've taken that kiss.

Charles's chest pounds. He can't help but fantasize about what it would feel like to be held by a strong guy like Jacques from night to morning. He's always known he liked men, but he always imagined himself being with someone alpha, someone with class and sophistication. Jacques ? He's nothing like that. He's more like a street rat, observing passersby and stealing wallets.

He had been denying the attraction, convincing himself that he wanted someone classy with glossy hair, not some rough, dumb bully who probably couldn't even do his own laundry properly. The more he felt drawn to Jacques , the more he tried to push him away. He did it by belittling him, speaking in complicated terms just to assert his own superiority. Maybe it was to reassure himself that he wasn't attracted to Jacques—or maybe because he wasn't used to feelings like these.

The tent rustles as Jacques enters. His brown, wet hair slicked back, his reddish-brown skin glowing under the dim light—Jacques looked irresistible. His lean but athletic build made Charles forget to breathe for a moment.

Charles gasps in shock, suddenly feeling vulnerable. He's only wearing underwear and a half-worn shirt, his shoulders still exposed. Seeing Jacques enter the tent, Charles reflexively tries to cover his chest, but the awkward motion only makes him look even hotter in Jacques's eyes.

For a few seconds, Jacques is stunned. Seeing Charles kneeling before his rucksack, looking flustered and vulnerable, catches him off guard.

Then he grins. "You look hot."

Jacques moves into the tent and kneels by his rucksack on the opposite side. Facing away from Charles, he removes his wet clothes, peeling off his shirt to reveal his toned back.

Charles steals a glance. Jacques's back, with its defined muscles, looks so damn sexy.

His mind is a battlefield now. Should he act on his feelings, or should he leave the tent and avoid this entirely? He knows if he takes the leap, his entire world could change. His mind commands him to leave, but his heart demands him to stay, grab Jacques, and kiss him.

Charles heart and mind wrestles with the decision, back and forth, unable to settle on what to do.

But in the end…

The heart wins.