“DNR’s were built for service, John.” Dorian says quietly. It’s dark in the house and the only reason the android is there is because John just can’t stand the quiet anymore. The portable field charger he nicked from storage is glowing in the corner and Dorian was so pathetically grateful for not having to go back to the MX charging station that he’s been doing all the house chores for the three weeks they’ve been living together.
John huffs. “You don’t have to act like a maid, Dorian. You live here. I don’t need a servant.” He doesn’t want one either. In fact, John admits quietly in the back of his mind, he prefers to be the one doing things. He did everything for Ann…. His hand drifts up briefly to his neck and he feels the absence of the collar like he feels his missing leg. She betrayed him in so many ways and he doesn’t think he can ever trust that part of himself again – the part that wants even in this moment to have someone to belong to. But he can’t tell Dorian that, not when all Dorian wants is to not be owned.
That’s not a conversation they’ve had. But it’s clear, when you look into the synthetic blue eyes. Dorian is more than an MX and that is what makes him such a great partner – but it also makes everything so wrong. Dorian isn’t just a machine. If there’s such a thing as souls, John is sure his partner has one somewhere in that mess of wiring that makes him tick. Probably a better one than most humans. And it hurts to watch the way he’s treated. Dorian can’t own anything, isn’t allowed an opinion or a choice in anything from what he wears to where he sleeps. Even moving in with John wasn’t a choice even though John did ask.
The department thinks he’s here because of John’s leg, to provide assistance during the times John has to be without his prosthesis.
He does damn fine without it, thank you very much. But it made them agree and it made sense to say it. And Dorian is so much happier here.
But he keeps saying things like that and John doesn’t know what to do with it.
“I haven’t scanned your balls,’ Dorian says lightly as if mentioning other people’s genitalia is a typical after dinner conversation. “But I’ve been here three weeks, John. You haven’t once reached release.”
“God damn it!” John swears and turns to glare at his partner. “Are you monitoring me every second?”
“No.” Dorian’s eyes are sincere. “But my sensors do pick up passive readings constantly, John. I’d know.” He raises his hands as if to both pacify and ward off attack. “I can’t turn them off. It would be like turning off your own eyes and ears.”
“Whatever.” John turns back to the tv. “It’s none of your business.”
“I’m only bringing it up because I can help.” Dorian offers softly. “When we were designed they wanted DNRs to serve their partners however they might need.”
John closes eyes. “You telling me they gave you sexbot programming?”
“Technically the current sexbot protocols are actually DNR programing.” Dorian corrected. “But the important part is that I can serve you.”
John gets up despite the fact his leg is on the charger and grabs for his crutch with a grunt. “I don’t need serviced, Dorian. I don’t work that way.”
“What do you need?” he asks and John yanks open the refrigerator door just to have somewhere to hide his head.
“Look, I appreciate what you’re offering but I’m not into having partners without a choice.”
“I have a choice.” Dorian insisted, coming into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. “I wouldn’t have told you about this if I wasn’t willing.”
“Do you get anything out of it?” John asks, his own voice softer than usual. He pulls a beer out and shuts the door. The counter next to the sink is just the right height that he can hop up onto it and he does.
“I enjoy bringing pleasure to people, or at least I think I do.” Dorian frowns. “I know I’ve done it before but I can’t remember any of it. They took the files away when they whipped my memory and since they weren’t part of official police files they are just… gone.”
John winces. “I don’t know how you stand it.” He whispers without thinking about it.
Dorian moves to other side of the sink and takes a seat on the counter. Neither of them are looking at the other. “I don’t have a choice, man. It’s this or I die.”
“I need a partner – to get off.” John confesses into his beer. “I can’t…on my own. I need… to… I get off on their getting off.” He chugs the beer and lets the alcohol start to work before he turns to look at Dorian.
His face is still but there are flickering blue lights going and he’s processing what John’s said. “So you don’t want me to service you….”
“I want to service you.” John admits, eyes dropping away. “And we know that’s not in your programing.”
It ends there for the night but when they get off shift there’s a note in the androids impeccable handwriting asking John for reference material.
Dorian is asking for porn.
John’s not sure if it’s loneliness, or empathy, or just desperation but he leaves his favorites on a portable drive on the counter. It’s gone in the morning and he tries not to think about it.
The weekend comes too fast and John can’t stop thinking about it. Dorian is unusually quiet the next few days but he’s also always there. He’s touching John whenever there’s even half an excuse and at night he’s taken to recharging closer to the bed so that his hand can rest near his partner. John likes it, but he won’t say that, and he’s so horny it takes him actual effort not to drop to his knees when Dorian gives him a stern look about taking better care of something.
He needs a release – he knows it. He’s so on edge it isn’t’ funny but short of hiring a professional he’s not going to get it. He doesn’t trust anyone enough. But he still needs it.
It’s late when Dorian approaches him. “I need your consent, John.” He says softly. “I need to know what your limits are and what I can and cannot do to your body.”
It would be clinical if it wasn’t for his tone and John nearly whimpers.
“All those vids, they had some things in common.” Dorian provides softly. “Heavy bondage,” he drops a good length of rope on the counter and John’s breath hitches. “Some pain play.” Dorian smirks softly. “And lots of manhandling. I think I can provide those things, John. In fact I think I’d rather enjoy having you at my mercy.”
That’s all it takes and John crumbles. There are tears in his eyes as he falls to the floor and he wants to kiss his feet. He wants to, but he doesn’t know what Dorian wants and it’s all so confusing. He nods, tries to form words.
Thankfully Dorian isn’t an idiot and takes the action as a form of consent. He bends down effortlessly, hand yanking John’s hair to tilt his head back, and the kiss is dirty and hard and possessive and John’s hips jerk and his hands flail and he gasps into it. “Tell me to stop and I will.” Dorian whispers against his lips. “All you have to do is say stop and I will. I promise.”
John manages somehow to nod even with those fingers gripping his head and it hurts so good to feel that again.
Dorian pulls him to the bedroom, mostly dragging him along the smooth floor and it’s so hot that John’s pretty sure he isn’t going to last long. When they get there he’s yanked to his feet and Dorian moves back.
“Strip.” He orders. “All of it. I want you naked. In fact, you are going to stay naked until we have to return to duty on Monday. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” He manages, old habits and training kicking in. He’s naked as fast as he can undo buttons – his cock is hard and red and bobbing like the wanton thing it is. He’s both ashamed at himself and so so so hopeful…
Dorian touches him like he’s precious and it makes John shiver. He can see them in the mirror, dark and light. Dorian’s just enough taller than him that it seems like the android is towering over him and it’s such a good feeling he can’t help leaning back into the touch. Dorian allows it, using the opportunity to fondle everything but that aching cock that’s now glistening with precum even though it’s been totally neglected.
“Leg too.” Dorian whispers in his ear and John stiffens. Those strong fingers go for the release and Dorian’s removed it before John can think to protest. The only thing keeping him upright is Dorian’s body pressed against his back, the rough material of the DNR uniform inflaming him. It’s so humiliating, and vulnerable, to be like that; John’s eyes close in mortification. He can’t look now – can’t see himself in that mirror.
“Someday I’ll make you watch.” Dorian whispers again, tweaking a nipple. “But tonight I’m just going to play with you and you’re just going to take it.” He bites an earlobe and John’s remaining knee goes out.
Dorian keeps him upright and with a strength John knows isn’t human wrestles John’s arms back. The tie is tight and fast and the blindfold appears out of no where.
He ends up over his partners knee and in a voice he barely recognizes as his own he tells him how bad he’s been. How he’s such a little slut and he needs a master to keep him from trouble. How his last mistress had told him he couldn’t come without her and even now he can’t. It’s easier to admit it all with the rope and the blindfold and Dorian encourages each admission with soft strokes.
When he can’t choke out anymore there’s a hard-swift blow to his bottom and John jerks. “You need this.” Dorian says softly. “You need to feel helpless against me, don’t you?”
Its rhetorical and the next blow makes John cry out a strangled Yes! Anyway.
It’s pathetic and he knows it, but he needs this and Dorian is so much stronger than he is. He’s never had a playmate that can toss him around like this and it’s thrilling in ways he doesn’t really want to analyze. He’s sobbing and squirming and his cock is leaking all over Dorian’s leg and he doesn’t care. The ringing slaps keep coming and he knows his ass is bright red by now and that in the morning he’ll still feel it and he loves it – loves Dorian for giving this to him.
The litany of dirty talk flooding out the android’s mouth is very close to perfection. “Look at you, such a dirty little slut aren’t you? You’d let anybody do this to you wouldn’t you? You’d just let any man come in here and take you as long as they didn’t ask too nicely.” Dorian’s voice is driving thought out of his head and John suspects he’s making whimpering responses but he doesn’t know – can’t think about it – can’t think about anything.
Suddenly he’s in the air and slamming down on the bed and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s just been tossed like a bag of dog food across half the apartment. There are hands lifting his hips and something cold is shoved inside him and then the feeling of lube getting squirted into him finally registers. Dorian must have found the stash of sex toys and he’d blush if his face wasn’t pressed into the pillows. Without his leg he can’t balance on his knees like this and it’s Dorian holding him up by his right hip and he’s embarrassed as hell by that but it’s not his place to complain. He just needs to take this, just wants to take whatever it is Dorian does without having to think about it.
The large syringe full of lube makes him feel full and the synthetic slide of it designed for a single purpose that makes him quiver with anticipation. It’s made for a long hard fuck, and labeled that way. “No preparation necessary” it reads in big shinny letters and John knows that’s not exactly true. Sure that stuff can last a couple hours, it’s the industrial grade shit that they cooked up to lubricate the inside of the synthetics that someone figured out was the perfect anal sex gel. It coats everything inside and stays put and it’s a damn wonder. But it’s been a hell of a long time since John was properly pegged and even then Ann’s strap on wasn’t that big. He hasn’t been taken by a man since the academy and he knows it’s going to hurt when that huge perfectly made cock slams into him.
He wants it to hurt.
Only Dorian doesn’t know that, and being the considerate android he is John finds himself thrusting back onto long fingers and moaning, begging for more. Dorian is silent the entire time, but slows down his movements even more, until John is so incoherent and just taking it with little gasps and sobs. The only thing keeping him up is that hand on his hip and he knows there will be bruises. He likes the thought – wants the marks – he wants to ask for more but he can’t get words to form.
He’s flipped over and spread wide and then it happens. He feels that glorious dick start to slide inside him and he’s so loose, so opened up by the lube and the fingers that it’s shameful. Dorian finally speaks, his voice low but not the least out of breath. “Such a whore aren’t you? So loose I just slide right in. I’m going to fuck you till you come, John. And I’m never going to touch that cock.”
John moans and tries to buck his hips but he’s impaled so fully that all it does is slam those glorious balls into his backside. His hands are still bound under him so he can’t even get leverage. All he can do is lie there and take it. He wants to make it last, he does, but it’s been so long and he’s been so worked up… Dorian makes a few hard thrusts, finds the spot and…
John is gone. He’s coming so hard he’s sure they’ll be cleaning the ceiling later. He’s pretty sure he blacks out because when he comes too he’s being untied and petted and told how beautiful he is and the blindfolds off and Dorian is holding him and it’s all too much too process.
He drifts in and out of sleep for most of the night and whenever he wakes up Dorian is there murmuring encouragement and praise and John has never had that before. It makes him feel small and needy and he hates it and loves it and he buries his face in his partner’s chest so he doesn’t have to talk.
At some point just as the sun is rising Dorian kisses him and slips out to charge. John knows it’s incredibly pathetic but he ends up dragging a blanket and pillow to the charger and laying at Dorian’s feet. He half crawls there, his crutches left in the other room and his leg on its charger and he should feel horrified but all he wants is Dorian and if he has to crawl he’ll crawl.
Strong arms lift him up sometime later and put him back on the bed. His leg is reattached and even though his brain is still all fuzzy he manages to say a murmured thank you before Dorian kisses him senseless.
Later when he actually wakes all the way he remembers not to dress and it’s been so long since he’s played this game he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what Dorian wants, if he even enjoys this game or if he’s just playing it for John and that thought makes his heart beat fast.
Dorian is there in an instant and he seems to know what the matter is. He reassures him he wants this, that he wants John, and there’s breakfast in the kitchen that Dorian makes and then insists on feeding him one bite at a time. Pancakes off Dorian’s fingers taste far better than they do off a fork and John can feel himself slipping even deeper. He wants to suck Dorian’s cock so badly, to make him come too, but when he asks Dorian smiles sadly. “It’s not the same for me, John. I can’t orgasm. But I can enjoy yours.”
Which ends with Dorian sucking maple syrup off John’s cock instead which is really very good but not at all what he had in mind. The fact that he’s pinned to the kitchen island by an inhuman grip on his wrists helps though.
The weekend goes by way too fast and Sunday night Dorian moves the charger next to the bed. “When you wake up we need to be back to the way we are at work John.” Dorian reminds him gently. “You have to be in charge again.”
“I like this.” John complains and squirms closer to the charger so he can keep a hand on Dorians leg while he stands on the plate. “I don’t want to stop being yours.”
“You won’t.” Dorian smiles softly and ruffles his hair. “We belong to each other, John. We just have to take turns.”