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Ductility	By : Randie Category: Digimon > General > Digimon Adventure (Season 1) > Digimon Adventure (Season 1) Views: 1733 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Ductility
- 1
Ductility
Summary: Maybe all Yamato needed to know was that he was loved by someone. Did I mention that someone is a robot? Because that's kinda important. YamatoxMetalGarurumon

Yamato huddled closer to the Digimon at his side. Days in the forest were cold enough; the nights were only worse. MetalGarurumon, being made mostly of metal, wasn't the warmest, but to feel a non-threatening heartbeat next to him warmed him more than anything else.
How badly Yamato missed Takeru—but the boy didn't need him: he made that clear.
Just another reason for the blonde not to sleep, to grow colder and more alone.
In turn of the child's shivering, MetalGarurumon nuzzled his nose against Yamato's shoulder. Once, he had days where he wondered why his tamer acted so—until the blonde told him a few things about himself. This was after Yamato had finally opened up to Jyou in the quiet summer heat of diners and boiler rooms. The Digimon had to admit, he didn't fully understand human relationships, but he did understand the physical interaction, even if he had no need for it. He understood love. He understood those things meant love, or, were supposed to. As Gabumon, he once talked to Gomamon about 'family'. He said Jyou mentioned, very rarely, his brothers. Even more rarely, the thing called a 'parents'.
MetalGarurumon was only more confused when Yamato had told him a parent was someone 'always there for you' and yet, he had barely seen the humans labeled a 'father' or 'mother'. By the blond's definition, Yamato was a parent to his brother, but Yamato insisted that was different and stormed off. MetalGarurumon knew things were complicated. He could only imagine now as the blond slept for the first time since leaving the others, how much more complicated it must be for someone who said they had these concepts worked out and didn't understand them, as opposed to MetalGarurumon who lay curled in ignorant bliss.
Yamato still hadn't told him everything; otherwise they wouldn't be where they were now, running away. MetalGarurumon knew that feeling well, too, being a shy one at heart around most Digimon. Even he was more content with being to himself than listening to one of Tentomon's Digi-Folk Tales or Patamon's incessant babbling about the world around him.
“Yamato?” MetalGarurumon questioned, wondering if the tamer was awake. Maybe now he would get the nerve to ask. No. There it went, fleeting as his friend turned away. He gave a huff, condensed air escaping the slits in his snout. He wasn't fed up with the human, he was fed up with himself.
“I'm sorry,” the blond whispered. If MetalGarurumon hadn't been part wolf in the depths of his coding, he wouldn't have heard it.
“...for what.”
“Dragging you out here with me. Away from your friends.”
“...they're your friends, too,” the Digimon growled. He couldn't help sounding as fierce as he did. Perhaps Gabumon would've been a more suitable form for conversation, but alone in the woods with the Dark Masters about? He couldn't risk safety for a bit of comfort.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Yamato muttered. “But if they knew the truth...”
His tamer's voice came out in a cracked whisper. He hadn't seen Yamato cry often and when he did, he couldn't just hear it. He felt it, as if a gear had snapped somewhere inside his chest. He wanted to help. He needed to. But what good was a Digimon concerning human matters?
Then, the Digimon thought some more. Yamato's problems were a lot like Gabumon's yellow underbelly. Exposing them to the world was just too much.
“I understand,” was all the wolf managed before resting his head back down on his paws again, staring out into the quiet night. Normally, he loved the forest, but this place was downright abnormal. The sounds of birds and other small creatures, replaced with the groaning of tree branches and growls of demons.
“I'm just so tired of being beaten down again and again. I've fucked up too many times,” the blond continued mumbling to himself. Sometimes he did that, when he didn't realize that his Digimon was beside him, listening. Again, MetalGarurumon felt such a tinge of pain.
“Mistakes are called that because they can be fixed, redeemed for.”
“I can't go back.” A pause from Yamato as he clenched one hand into a fist. MetalGarurumon sniffed the air. “I can't tell her I'm sorry; I hate her--!”
“Yamato... is there anything I can do?”
“No, just go away!” the blond barked, sitting up. He was about to stand, but he couldn't bring his feet to move. He couldn't go out there alone. He was apathetic, sure, but he was also afraid. Deathly afraid of his life ending in such a sorry state as it was. “...Let's just... get some sleep.”
“...are we following them again in the morning?” MetalGarurumon questioned. He could smell the scent of the others on the air. If he listened hard, he could even hear them snoring. Yamato, however, could hear nothing except all the things they had said to him before he left. Or, what he thought they said. He couldn't remember anymore. His mind was a complete blur now, like swimming through a muddy lake.
“I can't leave Takeru yet... I just need to see him.”
“Why not take him with us?”
Yamato threw his fist into the ground and turned to his partner, blue eyes ablaze. “You know damn well why!”
MetalGarurumon lowered his ears, found himself retracting his tail. “I'm sorry, Yamato...” He really didn't know why. Just that it involved more of that 'incident' with their mother. MetalGarurumon wondered why Yamato just couldn't replace such terrible things with something better. Maybe that was just a gift Digimon had.
As the days dragged on, MetalGarurumon began to contemplate the acts Yamato described as both the most intense moment of his life and the most horrible, scarring moment. What made them different? What made them important? He wished Jyou was around, so he could find out, at least, about the good things. Even then, the two humans seemed at odds during this entire mess. MetalGarurumon was beginning to grow a bit jealous, before that. Jyou had given Yamato something he never could. Or could I? MetalGarurumon wondered. If I do, then how can I be sure it isn't one of those horrible, scarring moments?
MetalGarurumon didn't realize he was lost in his own mind, too. Perhaps he needed to be away from everyone as much as his tamer.
Yamato had been lost in his mind for months though, since seeing his mother again, but he did notice when the clank of footsteps stopped next to him and his so-titled friends were getting further from their sight. “Hey,” the blonde barked. “What's the damn hold up?”
“Sorry, Yamato,” MetalGarurumon said and dashed to catch up to where the weary boy stood. “I...”
“Yeah?”
“I can't stand to see you like this,” the Digimon admitted.
“Pff, like what?” the human retorted.
MetalGarurumon huffed more frozen air and leapt in front of Yamato. He was growing tired of the boy's attitude. “I want to help you.”
“I'm too broken to be fixed.”
“You told Jyou the same thing.”
“I did...? I don't remember...”
“Damaged things can be repaired, Yamato. You should know that,” MetalGarurumon lectured. He had many wounds, flesh and mechanical, and Yamato had always been there, trying his hardest. But how does one fix damage they can't see? MetalGarurumon needed to know.
“So?” A quick whine, “Th-The others are getting further away. Come on.”
“Yamato, I'm not moving.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Yamato remarked, taking a step to the side. MetalGarurumon did the same. “Come on, what gives?!”
“You were so happy with Jyou...” the Digimon huffed, the hydrolics in his legs following suit. “What does he have that I don't? Is it love?”
“Don't even say that word around me,” Yamato remarked, waving his hand and starting around his Digimon. MetalGarurumon extended his front leg to stop him. “Even if it could be called that; it's not something you can help me with.”
“I don't understand. We're friends. We're connected by a bond unseen. Isn't that what love is?”
“...MetalGarurumon.”
“I want to make you happy again,” the Digimon insisted, sitting.
Yamato blinked with confusion. Not only had he never heard his Digimon so forthcoming and determined, but he looked outright adorable sitting back on his hind legs like a puppy. If his tail could have moved back and forth, Yamato was sure he would have seen the golden-yellow blade wagging. The thought made him smile and for a moment, everything else drifted away from him. “MetalGarurumon, what could you possibly do to make me a happy person?”
“I don't know for sure, but I would like to try.”
“...what are you implying, exactly?” Yamato asked with a raised eyebrow. MetalGarurumon breathed another puff of cold air and Yamato's cheeks began to turn a deep red. “Aha... no. That's crazy.”
MetalGarurumon continued to sit.
“You're a Digimon.”
“But I love you as much as Jyou does.”
Yamato looked into his Digimon's eyes and grinned. “Your—You're jealous! I'd expect this from a Gatomon, maybe... but a big old wolfdog like you?”
MetalGarurumon whined. “It would make you happy.”
“What'd I say?” Yamato remarked, then started off into the forest again. MetalGarurumon stomped after him, then flew over him, officially fed up. Yamato stumbled back on his own heels as MetalGarurumon licked his face. The blond fell completely back onto the grass, wiping away dog drool. “Come on, we don't have time for this.”
The wolf Digimon knew that nothing he could say would change the boy's mind and therefore, stood over him, deciding to take the risk. If Yamato hated him, so be it (although, in the back of his mind, MetalGarurumon knew that would never happen). At least the Digimon would be able to know and trust that he had done everything possible.
MetalGarurumon licked his tamer again, this time down the neck. Cold breath puffed through the Digimon's nose. Yamato blinked away crystals of ice, unable to see as the metal wolf found the boy's lips and parted them. The animal's tongue was about how Yamato expected it—warm and amazing, but too big to fit comfortably, so the kiss didn't last long.
The beast continued to explore his tamer, sniffing down his body. Cold air tossed up Yamato's shirt, sending a chill over the boy's chest that made him groan. MetalGarurumon sniffed around his stomach more, anxious to pry that sound out of him again. He continued to move the blond's shirt up with his nose, licking from the stomach to his ribs. Yamato squirmed on the ground as his top was peeled away by the wolf's teeth. The Digimon stared down at the flushed face looking up at him. He contemplated stopping when Yamato removed his gloves and reached up to the other's face, taking it in both hands. MetalGarurumon closed his eyes as the human under him traced the lines of metal with his thumbs. Then Yamato kissed him on the nose.
“It's alright,” Yamato whispered.
The animal reached around, the boy still clinging to him with both arms, and gently nipped at his neck. The blond was rather quiet by human standards, but for MetalGarurumon, each gasp was closer to a pleasant howl. He continued to nip as he lowered his torso, letting Yamato settle back into the soft earth. Then, he moved lower with his tongue, crossing a frozen nub that was apparently very sensitive. He tried his teeth here, too—gently. Yamato's left hand dug into the dirt and his right found a place in the grooves along the Digimon's neck, pulling him closer. Each blast of cold breath, each coming faster than the next, only made Yamato more anxious. He raised his hips towards MetalGarurumon and it wasn't until now the wolf noticed everything below the human's waist. Curious, as animals are, he investigated.
A beautiful noise startled the wolf as he found the strain between Yamato's legs and nudged it. Yamato cried out for him again as the cold cooled the heat underneath the Digimon's nose. MetalGarurumon wasn't ready yet and instead went back to Yamato's chest, licking all over and down to his stomach, then finding the light blue belt. He hadn't intended to break it, but having clutched it in his teeth and Yamato twisting into him, the belt snapped loose. MetalGarurumon tugged at the denim. He worried about breaking this, too, but perhaps all the stress lately gave them a loose fit and soon the jeans were settled around the blond's ankles.
The Digimon had a clearer view of his tamer now. He had always given Yamato the appropriate privacy but still questioned the human's fascination. MetalGarurumon paid no mind to his own ache as it had never concerned him before and focused on finding that last blissful howl that he could sense the blond was craving.
Wetness had darkened the blue cloth now exposed and MetalGarurumon was enthralled by the scent that had lead him there. When he tasted it, Yamato writhed under him with an almost painful noise. He grasped the wolf's cheek, much like a man directing a horse, and pushed the Digimon closer. MetalGarurumon tugged at the cotton until he exposed glistening, dark flesh. The first thing he tasted was light salt before the sweet took over. He found he could wrap Yamato entirely in his tongue and lapped at it, drawing more of that taste out in the form of a semi-clear, hot white liquid. Then, the blond forced himself deep into his partner's mouth.
Yamato found it strange and exhilirating to have his cock encased in heat and the rest of his sex layered with bursts of cold air. He sat up, contuing to direct MetalGarurumon, when he felt something warm drip onto his leg. He kicked aside one leg of his jeans and shifted. Sticking out from a metal sheath was his Digimon's own hard-on. He would've persued it further but Yamato could no longer hold himself up and fell back onto his right side.
MetalGarurumon kept those legs parted as he explored his tamer completely, licking anything that enticed him further. Then something strange happened. Yamato's body was unusually tense, but then came that wonderful call, filled with his name on the boy's lips. More white, now in ropes, settled along MetalGarurumon's snout. The Digimon pulled away as he watched his tamer trembling and curling into himself. Yamato couldn't catch his breath for some time, which the Digimon spent settling next to Yamato until his heartbeat steadied. MetalGarurumon also noticed how relaxed the rest of his body became, at least temporarily. The wolf started for the boy's loins again, but hesitated.
The blond kicked off the rest of his clothes and stood on all fours. He leaned against his chest and elbows and presented himself. Somehow, MetalGarurumon knew what he was asking for, be it some latent instinct or strong bond.
The Digimon also couldn't deny his own ache any longer, only intensifying now that he knew Yamato had accepted him and was completely willing for something more. He approached Yamato and how to initiate such an act. The wolf tilted his head—he was just the height needed, but even he could see this had the potential to be painful. Something else was needed. He nuzzled against Yamato, spreading still warm seed over him, then quickly mounted him. The wolf felt around with his hips, then positioned himself before working his way inside.
Yamato cried out as a rod of ice entered him. He couldn't help but tense—it was so different from how Jyou or anyone had ever felt. “Metal...Garurumon...”
“...are you alright?”
“More.”
MetalGarurumon obliged by clawing his hind legs closer, forcing himself deeper. He growled. For a species that wasn't even programmed for this kind of thing, it still felt wonderful. Yamato was so warm and tight; it only intensified with each thrust. The motion was slow at first. Savory. What was the chance that this would happen again? Certainly slim to none, not that either seemed to be not enjoying themselves.
The Digimon was beginning to understand why humans made such a fuss over what he previously understood as nothing more than a mating ritual. Not only was it complete bliss, but he had never felt closer to Yamato. The entire process was like evolution, but on a spiritual level.
The blond continued to encourage him and MetalGarurumon's pace quickened. His claws dug into the ground as he hit harder. The tamer clung to his front legs and arched his back. His body was becoming tight again, like before, and the Digimon knew he was close.
“MetalGarurumon--”
Then the wolf felt it—the clenching, rippling. Yamato collapsed with the beast still in him, struggling to move. The Digimon kneeled to his partner's level and felt something unleash in himself as well. He wondered briefly, were Digimon meant to feel something never inherent to their make-up? But that thought was drowned out with a howl. Yamato rested his head on his arms as they both stilled for a moment. The icy liquid was so cold that it felt like a pleasant fire erupting inside him. He felt the icy heat trickle down his bare thighs. He wasn't even sure how that was possible; he was still incredibly tight and each breath sent a sensitive jolt through him.
MetalGarurumon's breath came out strained and mechanical as he half-stood over his partner. Part of him worried, from Yamato's silence, that he had made the wrong decision. He couldn't help but whine and this made the blond laugh. MetalGarurumon could finally pry himself from the boy, exciting one last gasp from him. Yamato rolled over in the leaves and grass, some sticking to his stomach. MetalGarurumon brushed them away with his snout and laid down next to Yamato.
“You don't have to worry,” the blond whispered, raising a hand to the wolf's cheek. He traced the 01 engraved on with his fingers. “I would have told you no.”
“...why, when you said...”
“Stop worrying.”
“I just wanted to say I Love You.”
“Maybe you weren't clear enough the first time.” Yamato shrugged, laying back on both his arms. He snickered at the confused Digimon. “So, you know, show me again?” MetalGarurumon replied with a cold snort and a lick on the cheek.
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Ductility