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Honestly, she doesn't spare much of a glance at her surroundings. She does look, taking in one moment to see what kind of place 9S calls home now that they have more freedom to make their own space their own, but to her the most important thing in the room is 9S himself. Her eyes move back to him almost at once, hand squeezing his to try to calm him down a little more.

"It's perfect." She promises him, drawing him so carefully back to her. She kisses him once before she leads him herself to his bed, but she doesn't sit.

She puts her hands on his shoulders and presses him down first, has him sit down on the edge of the bed and then stands in front of him as she moves her hands to the ties keeping her skirt in place. Wordlessly she begins to untie it, letting him watch her as she moves through the mechanical steps of undressing herself.

"You're perfect."

He blurts out back, easily guided toward his bed, letting himself be pushed down onto the edge of the mattress, only to be left to watch her fiddle with the ties of her skirt. He feels like he's entered an alternate reality as he keeps his gaze fixated on her. Much like how he's the most important part of the room, she's the most important thing for him to fix his attention on.

It's not like it's the first time he's seen her without her skirt. They've both self-destructed before, leaving them with unfavorably less clothing to cover them thanks to the blast. Context though makes all the difference - this is a deliberate removal of clothing, for his eyes alone right now. His pulse is racing as the implication of what's to come has his processors whirring wildly within him. His face is even redder now, gaze truly transfixed.

He's in awe as he stares at her with a kind of reverence one might reserve for God alone. Humans may be their gods, but to him 2B is beyond that - he's her savior. Without her, he wouldn't know what to do with himself other than do a poor job at toning down the red of his face.

The military model that she is, 2B isn't one to leave a mess behind. After she removes her skirt she folds it and sets it aside, smiling faintly at his praise as he lavishes it on her again.

"You don't have to keep complimenting me, Nines. I'm not going anywhere."

She tells him this even as she's undoing the closures that hold her top together, working the sleeves down her arms and folding that up too. He's seen her in just her leotard but he's right about the context meaning so much more, it's impossible to ignore the fact that her body, so different from his to start with and now modified to bring pleasure to a human, has started to respond.

Will he know what to do? Will she have to show him? When he feels the way her upgraded parts leak fluid will he reject her after all?

None of these doubts show on her face as she leans over to untie her boots, but she feels them all the same.

"You should undress too."

"Oh c-cmon 2B...!"

He's not just flattering for the sake of it. Everything he says is genuine - he just hopes she realizes it. She must, if she's teasing him. There's no pause in her undressing, and so he keeps watching, trying not to fidget as he sits. It's only when she goes to undo her boots that he realizes he's supposed to do the same and peel himself out of his clothes.

The pressure is on all of a sudden, as he finds himself expected to undress too. Swallowing he takes off his other glove, tossing it aside before letting his fingers fiddle with the buttons of his jacket. Sure, he figured he'd be getting naked too at some point, but he's shy all of a sudden, self conscious about his body. He's not sure what part of him would be even appealing to see like this in her eyes but he does his best to try and quell that fear. If she didn't want him without clothes, she wouldn't have told him to undress in the first place.

She's out of one boot and then the other, but for now she leaves her stockings. They don't get in the way enough for her to feel like they'll lessen any of this and what she finds more important is the way he seems to tense up as he starts to follow her lead.

Does he feel the same way she does? Self-conscious because of their differences but still willing to try, wanting to be enough for each other? Good enough to touch, worthy of being together after their lifetime of pain and separation?

She's still leaning over thanks to getting rid of the boots and it means she's at the right angle to just lean in and kiss him again, her hands following his to help him with the buttons of his coat, to slip under it and ease it down off his shoulders. She's still kissing him when she slips her hands under the hem of his shirt and skims that up his body and only pulls away for the time it takes to get it over his head.

"You look cute."

The changes shes made to her body aren't things that he'll hate per say, it's just the manner in which she went about getting them that made him uncomfortable. He means what he said though, that it doesn't matter what her chassis is; at the end of the day she's still 2B and he still loves her no matter what.

He's so utterly overwhelmed by her, even more so when she leans in to kiss him and help him with his buttons. Dainty fingers are trembling, warmed by the feel of hers on his, and things are escalating before he registers her hands are under his black undershirt. It's so different, being touched by her compared to others, not just because of who she is but because of what she is. He can understand her in ways humans can't - the only one who could manage to is A2, for obvious reasons.

Before he knows it his shirt is gone, chest exposed and on display. Then she drops the compliment on him, the red on his face spreading down his neck all the way to his collarbone.

"C-Cute? R...Really?"

He looks like he's on the verge of a meltdown as he reaches up to slap his hands over his face out of embarrassment. He's going to die...but it'll be a good death. If 2B thinks he's cute...yeah, he's good with that.

"Yes," she tells him without hesitation, and for the first time she takes advantage of her opportunity to just touch him. She starts simply, just her hand smoothing down the pale length of his neck and over his shoulder. "I've always thought that."

It's so much honesty from her all at once, too much, and once she's realized just how much she's admitted to she falls silent as she moves her hands down to his hips.

"Do you want to do these yourself?"

If not, she's already inching her fingertips towards the fly of his shorts.

Her touch is like nothing else. No really, there's no comparison. To feel her skin against his is something he's not used to but has always wondered about. It feels better than fantasy and makes something inside him twist up funny.

She's always thought that lays another fatal blow as he finds himself willing his internal temperature down, warnings going off in his head that he needs to get a hold of himself or he'll short circuit from overheating. He's doing his best though - what more can he do? He can't help it if 2B has such an effect on him.

When her fingers finally find the hem and fly of his shorts he can't help but tense up, memories of her giving him a bath resurfacing briefly. He'd refused to strip for her there...but he won't deny her this time, even if he feels a swell of inadequacy surging up within him. If she leaves it to him he won't ever do it. He's too much of a coward. At the very least if she takes them off he'll know it's something she wants.

"...You can do it, if that's what you want from me."

At this point, right now? He'll give her anything.

She can almost feel him pulling back from her, that doubt of his flaring back to life and breaking the bubble of peace they've found, and she won't stand for it. She banishes those thoughts with a kiss, but instead of doing anything to remove his shorts just now she limits it to just a kiss.

It's slow, deep. It's reconnecting and pulling him back into the moment, and when she does finally pull away she tugs him towards her.

"Stand up," she tells him as she helps him to his feet, turning them as she goes. "Stand right here."

She's still holding him by the hips as she takes his place on the bed, sitting while she brings him closer so he's standing right in front of her. He'll be more exposed this way, but it lets her lean in to press her lips to the center of his chest, just where his heart is. Another kiss she presses lower, following the curves of his body while she starts to slowly work his shorts open and down his hips.

It's so much easier to just follow her orders and let her tell him what to do. It's so much easier to just sink into each and every kiss she graces him with, to forget whatever worries he might have and let them melt away. While the other kisses shared between them had been quick and passionate or even chaste, this one is grounding and snaps him out of his spiraling self-reflection.

He lets her move him like a doll, standing and being re-positioned as she holds him by the hips. Their positions are switched this way, but even with her sitting on the mattress looking up at him and he looking down in turn...she's truly the one in control here and really? He's fine with that.

The kiss she places to his chest is where his black box resides beneath warm, soft skin. It's such a touching, gentle gesture that if he really did have a heart that beat instead it'd be racing, thrumming so loudly surely she'd hear it.

But he doesn't have a heart, neither of them do, but that doesn't mean they're without heart. If anything, this entire encounter has just proven the two of them have more heart than they know what to do with, which is half their problem in the first place. He doesn't need to breathe and yet he can't help the nervous little pants he lets out, hot air venting in a desperate bid to regulate sensitive systems. His shorts are easy enough to get rid of, slipping down and over his hips with minimal fuss, leaving 2B to deal with a familiar pair of black undershorts. Prone to fidgeting, 9S can't help but pick at his own fingers, digging at his nails, until he forces himself to busy his hands another way. Deft digits find her hair, fiddling with strands ever so gently as he braces himself to finish the job and leave him butt naked.

It strikes her as a little unfair to be in her leotard still while she's stripping him down, but that's not enough to make her stop. With her lips pressed to the soft, warm skin of his belly she skims his black shorts down, leaves him bare, but even then she doesn't pull away to look.

She can feel him responding under her touch in ways that make her breathe a little harder too, his arousal only feeding hers, and her hands kneed his thighs, his hips, but stay clear of the space between his legs for now. She focuses on touching the places he will deem safe, and as she does she lets her mouth drift lower, lower, until she's biting ever so gently on the swell of his hipbone.

"Do you want me to stop?"

He's going to lose his mind.

That's where 9S is at now, as 2B lets her mouth trail down his front. Gone are his undershorts, leaving him fully exposed and vulnerable, but she has enough tact to leave the bare space between his legs alone. Instead her focus is on other parts of him, firm fingers pressing and committing his frame to memory. It makes sense to him that 2B would be so naturally tactile, considering her model designation - E was just a subset of B, after all, a specialized class.

They're both soft and warm, sure, but they've still titanium alloy frames beneath all that synthetic skin. When her teeth put pressure on his hip there's an audible hitch of breath in his throat as he holds it, fingers that had been playing with her hair stilling. He doesn't need to breathe, neither of them do, and yet the longer he stops himself from venting the air within his chest, the more dizzy he finds himself becoming. It's still surreal, to have 2B's mouth on him period, but that doesn't make it any less delightful.

"No don't-" The interjection is desperate, painfully honest. "Please don't."

He has no idea what she's doing or what she can do to him, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop her. He wouldn't dare to, even if she decided to sink her teeth into him and tear him apart. He'd be fine with that too, being devoured by her. She'd already consumed his heart, after all. She might as well take the rest of him.

Honestly, she doesn't know what she can do to him either. Her experiences with males so far have included the necessary physical attributes to have sex. 9S lacks that, but she's had time to come to the realization that it simply doesn't matter. If this is the body he's comfortable in, the body that 9S chooses and loves and trusts, it's the one she loves. It's the one she wants.

But she doesn't have the ability to say something like that out loud. She is an E type, a B type as far as he knows, and talking about her feelings has never come easy for her.

It's never come at all, until she found herself here, but when 9S asks her not to stop she thinks she can show him in actions what she wants. She bites him again in that same spot, her teeth leaving angry little red marks that make her feel gratified to see, a tiny little mark to show who he belongs to when the humans are put out of their minds.

He is hers and she is his. They're partners, and as her hand slips up his thigh and rubs between his legs were his equipment should be, the fact that it isn't there doesn't matter. There will still be feeling there, a programmed knowledge that they were created in the image of humans and what she's doing is sexual even if he has no parts to physically respond to it. She tells herself that if she can kiss him and take his breath away it stands to reason that if she moves her fingers against him, presses there like she might touch herself, it should do something.

The power of the mind is an incredible thing. Human or android, thoughts carried weight and strength in a way that 9S has managed to take advantage of. So much of the feedback he gets from his environment is ultimately determined to be positive or negative by what's been coded into him. There are checks and balances in place, sensors that relay pain back to his CPU and other components so his body can react accordingly. Ultimately that's how he functions here, in situations like this. They weren't built for pleasure the way humans were, but that didn't mean the groundwork hadn't been hard coded into them to experience it if they decided to modify themselves. After all, 2B wasn't the first android who had decided to go out and do such a thing. There had been cases of it throughout the resistance and while YoRHa models were more advanced than their Earth counterparts, that didn't mean they were that different when it came to the basics.

Little tweaks here and there, rerouting and rewriting code over many restless nights have landed 9S in an interesting if not unique position. He's pinpointed the code that leads to him feeling good for lack of a better description and has learned how to exploit it, able to turn the sensitivity on and off at will. It's now that he gives permission to the program inside him to run at its own discretion and it seems he flipped the metaphorical switch just in time. He physically shudders as 2B touches him with bare fingertips, running her hands over him curiously. He's lacking and he knows it, and that's something he's incredibly conscious of, but that doesn't mean he's incapable of pleasing another. He'll be sure to prove that to her first hand.

Well, once he gets a chance to that is.

He feels like he's swooning just from her caress and the points of pressure she pushes into his skin. The whole notion that it's a sexual act triggers the release of something akin to dopamine and adrenaline within him as well. They're not in a fight, he'd never harm her willingly...but it's that same thrill, that same desire he's managed to cross code into the experience that he feels right now.

"Ah..."

He should probably say something more intelligent, probably tell her that whatever she's doing feels good and she should keep going...but for once in his life 9S is speechless beyond basic sounds of pleasure.

That's the reaction she wants. He sways a little as she touches him but her hand on his hip steadies him, the other still working slow between his legs. It's working and she's glad, glad they've found a way to share this without it requiring him to change, and she gives him a rare and gentle smile as she presses a kiss to his thigh.

Her lips move against that skin slowly, trailing soft kisses and dragging her teeth against him to make him make more of those sounds, and she wonders just how attentive the humans have been with him. Have they touched him like this? Has he touched himself? Does he focus on giving pleasure rather than receiving to avoid humans reacting to the way his body was created?

The angle she's at, the fact that she's sitting on the bed and he's standing over her, it all makes the next step too obvious. There may be nothing there but it doesn't stop 2B from licking him, pressing her face between his thighs and rolling her tongue against that sensitive skin, so soft and warm and perfect, and she can't help the softly indulgent sound she makes as she sucks and licks at him.

Her smile is more electrifying to him than if she'd suddenly run a direct current into him with a live wire. He feels himself choking up at the sight, practically blindsided as she steadies and keeps him in place. It's a good thing she does, for his knees feel weak and wobbly as she pays him such care and attention. The sounds she makes are erotic in a way that get to him more than any human sounds have thus far. It's because they're from her, of course, and he has an extreme bias, but that doesn't detract from the effect they have on his pulse or internal temperature rising.

For the most part his partners haven't exactly been attentive, but that wasn't exactly a fault of their own. He shied away from being given attention down there, for fear of being rejected. Besides, he much preferred being useful and giving pleasure, rather than receiving it.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't feel good. 2B sure does make it feel good and somehow they've managed to avoid hurting one another. (So far, at least.) He mutters out her name, the number and letter spoken on a sigh that seems to fall out of him, fingers gripping her hair just a bit. His toes are tingling, wriggling in his socks, trickles of electricity shooting down his spine. It's a lot of sensory information she's unloading on him right now but he's enjoying every second of it.

"2-2B...oh man-"

It's an inescapable fact that androids experience feelings of arousal when they fight and 2B has found that that absolutely coincides with what it does to her when her partners get a little rough with her in intimate moments like this. When 9S pulls her hair just that little bit it makes her pause, makes her groan softly as she pulls back to take a breath she doesn't need and try to cool her processors down.

But she doesn't stop for long. She's right back at him in a fraction of a second, the tug on her scalp from his grasping urging her to keep going, give him more. She's less careful, less gentle now that she knows he does like it, does feel it the way she was hoping to.

It feels a little foolish to push his legs open wider so she can find a better angle, her thumb stroking against him where her tongue isn't rolling against him like she's trying to do everything she can to give him as much pleasure as possible.

The less gentle she is with him the more he can feel himself getting worked up. He doesn't mean to pull her hair but the more she pushes his legs apart and touches him with her tongue and fingers the more he tightens his grip. It's only after a moment he realizes what he's doing and lets his fingers gently smooth down the sides of her head to rest on her shoulders, as if placing his palms there will help keep him upright. It's not that effective, for he finds himself leaning over more and more, shivering despite the fact he's far too hot for his own good.

He's felt this way before when A2 had pierced his shoulder with a metal pole, when she'd bit and hurt him in the process of trying to find release for the pent up feeling of this...whatever 'this' was. It runs deeper than just arousal. Hell, 9S isn't really sure he can even call it that. All he knows is that he's losing his grip (metaphorically this time). It's surprising too that it feels so good to be touched down there when there's not really anything to touch. He'd pat himself on the back for a job well done when it comes to the changes he'd made, but he's too busy panting, venting little bursts of hot air from between his lips as 2B makes him tremble.

He's not sure where it'll end. Feeling something is one thing, but finding release is another beast in of itself that he hasn't entirely figured out yet. 2B, he presumes, was able to feel that relief. For 9S that relief came with a literal reboot. Hopefully he can keep his temperature under control but by the looks of it that's becoming increasingly difficult.

Abruptly, her hands go tight on his hips and she pulls away, but only so she can pull him down towards her. With a graceful turn she pushes him down into the bed and follows him down, pinning him down into the soft mattress with hands that would leave bruises if they could.

Hovering over him, her eyes are the same pure white-blue as his, her cheeks are flushed and her hair is mussed, a mess from him pulling at it, and she wastes no time in capturing his lips in another hungry kiss.

This has been building between them for longer than she wants to admit, a long-buried longing exploding to the surface like a volcano, and all she wants is to hold him down and take and take and give him every part of her.

"Tell me what you want," she pants against his mouth, hand straying between his legs again to press and tease and, hopefully, make him arch and beg. "Tell me what makes you feel good."

Suddenly, everything goes topsy tervy, bottoms up and he finds himself on the mattress of his bed. She's over him now, hovering, predatory in a way, and he can feel his pulse race, the sound of fluid pounding in his ears. He can't look away from her, can't help but feel a sudden rush of fear mixed with longing and desire. The last time they were in a position like this she had her hands around his throat, she'd squeezed the very life out of him and had snapped his neck, leaving him unable to vent hot air and ultimately dooming him to overheating within his core.

It's been building and building and building, ever since they met and met again. Every time 9S had to re-introduce himself to her and be left wondering why she was so cold, why she pushed him away. She's not pushing now though, and he can't help but squirm under her weight excitedly.

"You."

The answer comes easy, at least to the first question he's asked. It's simple and yet holds so much weight to it, so much baggage that still weighs down on them and probably will for some time. Nothing can be fixed overnight, especially when 2B is holding secrets from him he already knows. There's no magic salve that can smooth and soothe his frazzled nerves, the wired endings within him that spark and shock internally. There's no quick solution to his neurotic personality, the obsessive nature he was programmed with that's developed a fixation on the very android above him. It must run deep, he thinks, as she presses her weight against him, steels a kiss and vents hot air over his lips. For him to forget her over and over, for them to be trapped in such a charade and yet he still manages to fall for her, time and time again, there must be something fundamentally hard coded into him at his core. He'd read once that 9 and 2 personalities were drawn to one another, that they were compatible, yet volatile.

They're definitely words he'd use to describe the two of them, that's for sure.

"I don't know what makes me feel good."

He's honest too in his admission, but that doesn't stop him from reaching up to place his palms on her shoulders to squeeze. The look he gives her is one of pure curiosity, but there's a danger to it as well just beneath the surface. 9S had never been exactly stable - if his particular model had been he wouldn't be prone to so many pitfalls. He pushes his own insecurities aside though, just for a moment. Just for her.

It's always about her. It always has been.

"If you feel good I'll feel good."

You.

It resonates, ringing like a bell with the kind of pure honesty that makes her soften for him again. When she kisses him this time it's easier, gentle, and her hand strokes the side of his neck like she's remembering the same thing he is.

His life in her hands, snuffed out by the same grip that's trying only to bring him pleasure now.

"It's easy to make me feel good," she admits to him, eyes searching his face for any sign of repulsion for her upgrades. She expects to see it and that's exactly why she's still wearing her leotard.

"Yeah?"

There's no repulsion in his eyes, gaze devoid of it - the curiosity's still there instead. He feels confident and sick and hot all at once. Androids don't get fevers and yet he feels dizzy. For some reason the more he stares at her the more the room spins. He reaches up to meet the hand stroking his neck, laying his palm over the back of it, tilting his chin into the caress.

"I don't really know what it's really like, you know? But that's fine. I don't care about if I feel good or not."

Because, again, it's not about him. It's never been about him. Just her. Just 2B. 2E. Whatever she calls herself it doesn't matter. A2 had said they'd fucked up when they made the Scanner series, making them all warped in their own, unique ways...but 9S is fine with that. He's tired of trying to be what he's not.

"But if it's easy for you to feel good, then I want to make you feel better than good. I want to make you feel great. Awesome. Amazing. I want to make you feel like you're going to self-destruct."

Edited 2019-01-08 02:59 (UTC)

Of course he's only curious. The thought is almost enough to make her laugh when she recognizes the brightness in his eyes that only ever means he's found a new puzzle to solve and to think that it's her that's going to be caught in his laser focus...

"Sit up," she murmurs to him, lifting up just enough to help him move so that he can lean back against the pillows and she can stay straddling his waist. "It's not as deadly as self-destruction and it doesn't hurt."

But more importantly-

"Are you sure you want to touch me? I can do it myself."

Sounds...sort of fake, at least considering the last time he got so worked up he more or less found himself rebooting in desperation to escape the sensory overload. Does she reboot? Does she feel that way? Or does she feel more like a human, experiences it more intense but in a different way? Is it more physical or mental? Does she feel like electricity is shocking every inch of her? The more he thinks about it, about the differences and similarities, the more he wants to know. He always wants to know.

It's always the death of him.

He sits up, propped up a bit on his elbows as he looks at her, making a face at what she asks him next. Is he sure? Seriously? Seriously?

"Seriously 2B? You're going to ask me that? You're going to ask me if I'm sure?"

How clear does he have to make it? Does he have to spell it out? Does he have to pin her to his bed himself and forcefully transfer just exactly how he feels to her wirelessly, so she can truly experience the torrid, nuclear storm he harbors inside his chest.

"You're not allowed to touch yourself while you're with me."

The way he asks her those questions, throws her own discomfort back in her face and then makes the demands he does only serves to convince her that he doesn't understand what it feels like to be the only one of them to make the changes she has. She'd done it immediately, she knows he doesn't approve.

Of course she assumes he'd be put off by her and it's one thing to say he isn't when the clothes are on still, another entirely to actively touch her.

"You weren't shy about how you felt about my choice," she tells him, voice a little icier again to match that look on his face as she takes hold of his hand. "And you don't get to be the one to tell me what I can and can't do."

What she does do is pull his hand between her legs, use her free hand to hook fingers in her leotard and pull it to the side so that when she presses his hand between her thighs he'll be met with bare skin. She's wet like a human against his fingers and her own, swollen in the way human women get when they're aroused. She guides his fingers against her, showing him where to touch and stroke.

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sorry this took 1000 years T_T