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Mirage sits on the foot of her bed, head tilted to face V2, who is sitting to lean its wartorn back on the headboard. Its frame drips occasionally with water, but it is comfortably clean.
Wind blows outside, a light but brisk breeze. It's evening, or the closest analog to it.
Dark stained wet towels flap in the window.
"You never answered my question. Do you actually want to try it?"
Mirage doesn't know how she got here; which of V2's polite questions had dragged them both down to somewhere so hedonistic?
It isn't an unwelcome place, though.
V2's eye narrows in thought.
"Am I... physically able to? Are you?" It is analytical, curious.
"Yes to both. We can make it work, if that's what you'd like."
"Then yes, I would like to try."
Mirage leans over to face her whole body towards the machine at the front of her bed, and V2 shifts its hips slightly as she begins to crawl up the bed to lay beside the other machine, careful not to trip over her own dress.
The wind dies down, leaving the two alone in silence, save for the whirring of V2's inner machinery.
Before Mirage can begin to speak again, V2 sits up abruptly, leaning over her, its hand grazing her collar. She reaches up to return the touch, tracing a line up and around the now-clean wreckage where its left arm used to be.
It towers above her, single eye glowing in backlight, intimidating.
Less intimidating is its voice, soft and low.
"Now what?"
It's a security machine. There's no protocol for this.
"Why don't you start by taking my clothes off."
"I may need help with that," it says, even quieter, but obliges, fishing for the knot on her belt. It fumbles, but makes it there in the end, setting it gently beside her.
"There's a zipper on the back," Mirage guides the machine's single hand to reach around the back of her neck, their heads nearly touching; closer than they had ever gotten before aside from chance touches.
It pulls the zipper down to the small of her back, gingerly reaching to her shoulders and helping her wriggle out of her dress and slip; pushing them out of the way to the other side of the bed.
"Do you... need those?" it says, looking down at Mirage's underwear, a bra and boyshorts.
"Half and half," she says lightly, sitting up to pull off her bra, revealing a chest identical to V2's own, albeit unmarred. "The top is just for show. It's cute."
She leans back down on the bed, hands loosely folded on her abdomen.
"...You're allowed to touch me. Encouraged, even."
A vent opens on V2's back, releasing warm air. Its eye flickers.
"I'll tell you if I want you to stop. Go at whatever pace you'd like," she adds.
It pauses, then lightly taps its fingers against the side of her head, maintaining the touch to lightly brush down her collar and onto her chest.
"Do you have erogenous zones you want me to touch?" it asks, bluntly. Another vent opens, this time lower on its spine.
"You'll just have to find out, buddy."
It squints at her, dragging its hand across her chest and rubbing its thumb across the small, symmetrical lights. Mirage makes a small noise, gripping the bedsheets on either side of her.
"Is that good?"
Mirage nods, and V2 travels down farther, gently exploring the gaps and divots in her abdomen, a body so similar to its own, but untouched by Hell. She melts into its touch, leaning closer around it, grabbing at the joints in its folded legs, and its combat software detects every point she presses against, hypersensitive, blindly warning it of potential danger.
Experimentally, it pushes its index and middle digits into the soft wire parts of her abdomen, gently fingering veins of fuel and electricity, eliciting a long, low-pitched tone from her vocal synthesizer as it finds more places to explore. The sound devolves and clips as it digs its fingers deeper, feeling parts of her inner armature through the layers. Mirage paws at its thigh wordlessly, running her fingers across its plating hard enough to leave small scratches in its paint.
"Hang on," she mumbles, opening her eye. V2 hesitates, fingers still tangled in her wiring.
Mirage reaches up to pull its face down to hers; faceplates colliding in an approximation of a kiss. It can barely register the movement before she speaks.
"Let me give you a turn."
"I don't want to stop you. You seemed to be enjoying yourself." It leans forward, ready to start with its hand again, but she pushes it away.
"Just relax. Let me know if you want to stop." Her tone is gentle, but commanding. It will not be able to talk her out of this.
"Acknowledged," it responds, unable to think of anything else to say.
She pushes it down onto the bed and straddles its waist, its wings fanned out on either side. V2 doesn't know what to do with its hand; it lies limp beside them as Mirage leans down.
She begins at its chestplate, her fingers dipping into the small, expertly crafted seams of its body in the same way V2 did to her, but in a much more focused way; she knows exactly which edges to touch, which sensors to activate as she leans up to its head, placing another kiss on its face as she trails one hand lazily down to its groin, thumbing the solenoid in its inner thigh.
The larger machine twitches, involuntarily, emitting a toneless burst of static as she digs her fingers into and around its waist, holding them there and pressing deeper until it squirms.
Mirage draws her hands back slowly, and V2 turns its head to face her, a little annoyed at the sudden lack of contact. It watches her sit up and straighten her back, legs still on either side of it, an upside down V drawing V2's eye to her crotch. Its vision is not accustomed to the low light, but it thinks it can see a shape there that wasn't present before.
"See something you like?" Her tone is joking, but the statement is serious; she hooks a few fingers into the band of her underwear and pulls down an inch or so before letting it snap back up.
V2's fans rev up again, and all the lights in its body flicker, shutting off for a half second before turning back on at half their normal brightness.
"Yes," it says, looking her directly in the face. "You."
Mirage laughs as she hoists her leg up and over V2's torso, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"One second. I need to do something before we uh,"
"Have sex?" V2 offers.
"That's more blunt than I was thinking, but sure." She slides off of the bed, padding over to the kitchen island and opening a drawer. "Do you mind if I make some modifications to your pelvis?"
V2 looks at her, standing in the dimmed lights of the kitchen. They didn't notice it before when she was walking beside them, but her stance is notably un-mechanical. Her shoulders slouch, she shifts her weight from side to side every few moments. If they could blur their vision for a moment, she would look uncannily human... a reflection of something it hasn't seen in a long while.
She waves at it in an 'are you awake' movement, and it snaps out of its thoughts.
"...You may do what you see fit." There is nothing she could do that would make its body worse for wear at this point.
"Neat." She pulls out a screwdriver set from the drawer and clicks it open, expertly fishes out out a small Phillips head, and pushes the rest back into the island. "Lay your feet on the floor and lean back on the bed."
V2 obliges, and Mirage kneels between its legs, shoulders brushing their knee joints.
"This might feel weird."
"How do you know how to-" it starts, before Mirage wedges the screwdriver into the lower seams of its crotch and begins to unscrew a panel.
In a moment she holds up a few screws and a small red plate, and V2 watches as she gently sets them on her bedside table.
"We've got about the same wiring, remember?" She glances around between its legs for a second before reaching in and pulling out a set of wires. "Almost there."
Mirage touches the bare ends of the wires together and they spark for a moment. Something pops inside of V2's abdomen, and it jolts as the the power from the now-open circuit is rerouted to other systems.
"Was that it? I feel no different." V2 sits up, examining the gap Mirage has made in their pelvis. It's comparatively small, but they could probably fit a few fingers in if they wanted.
"Oh, you'll feel a difference. Let me give you a test run."
V2 pulls its legs back onto the bed and Mirage joins them, positioning herself between their thighs once again and sitting up on her knees.
The larger machine watches as she pushes the waistband of her underwear down slowly, teasingly, before finally kicking them off to the floor, leaving her fully unclothed before them.
"I made it myself." She shifts slightly. "It's utilitarian, but it works fine."
V2 says nothing, still staring between her legs. Her dick is made of plain, slate grey silicone with a metal interior; small wires protrude from its base. As far as V2 can tell with its limited statistical knowledge on genitalia , it's fairly large, even when only partially erect. The silicone has a lubricated sheen to it, and her fingers glide over it as she gives it a cursory stroke.
"This is your first time, huh. That's kind of a special occasion." Mirage hoists one of V2's legs over her shoulder, her length brushing against its groin, and V2's sensors already overreact at the slight pressure.
"An occasion that is only meaningful to a percentage of humans in the twenty-first century," it replies before its vocal synthesizer attempts to soft-reset, clipping over itself and looping the last syllable a few times.
"Oh, come on. You're the first V-model machine to lose its virginity." She pats its thigh.
"There were only tw-" Mirage hushes its retort, brushing a thumb near the new opening in its plating, causing it to spit out another burst of static.
V2 wonders how they were ever satisfied with the measly automated offerings of synthesized positive feedback its software fed it after it completed a set of tasks, because even these small touches are a feast in comparison.
Its power reroutes again automatically, feeding more fuel to the processors in its groin, intensifying the feeling of Mirage's touch as she carefully pushes in two fingers, testing the waters. She leans in, digits sinking down to her knuckles; dick pressing up against them.
She curls her fingers up and they push their hips into her without thinking, coating their internal cables in stray lubricant.
The feeling is incredible, unlike anything else the machine has felt before, and it needs more of it immediately. They need her to take over, to absolutely envelop them in pleasure; it has never been sure of something in its entire lifespan.
"More," it whines. It would be embarrassed at its own tone, dripping with need, if it were not so far lost already.
Mirage's eye flickers.
"Already?" She squints down at the machine below her, V2's entrance abandoned (to their dismay) in favor of her own member, running her thumb over the tip. "I can go a little harder... or can you handle the real deal, loverboy?"
V2 looks down at it, half analytical and half consumed by this nagging, overwhelming desire in the back of its processor. She's even larger than they initially gauged.
It meets her gaze and nods.
"Use your words."
"I... Was that insufficient consent?"
"No, it was." She leans over them, eye half-lidded. "I just want to hear you say it."
V2 glances down again. She's grinding into her own palm. She wants this as much as they do, but unlike them she's willing to play with her food.
"Yes."
Mirage cocks her head expectantly, waiting for more. V2 sighs internally.
"Please, Mirage."
She perks up. It can almost hear her central processor saving that audio clip to permanent memory.
"Mmm. Stop me if I break something." She pauses for a moment before guiding herself into them, gripping its leg for balance.
Pure sensation floods V2's processors as Mirage presses herself ever closer, pushing in gently until she's filled them almost completely, straining the plating around the larger machine's pelvis. She leans over them (or as much as she can with her shorter frame), its left leg still pressed up against her shoulder, and gives an experimental thrust.
V2 whines in encouragement, their cooling fans finally reaching their maximum recommended speed threshold; the shorter machine begins a steady rhythm, holding their thigh for leverage. There's a click of metal when their hips touch, Mirage filling them to the base.
It can feel her acutely as she fucks them into the bed, dick roughly pushing through its oversensitive wiring; every thrust leaving them needing more.
It pushes its hips upward and hooks its leg around her, wanting her to take them, use them however she wants, and she takes the opportunity immediately, running her other hand around their pelvis as she speeds up.
Mirage's voice clips into life, vague sounds finally clearing into comprehensible words, and her pace stutters for a moment when she begins to speak; power rerouting itself.
"You wouldn't normally be able to feel this." With no breath to lose, her voice is as stable as ever, albeit cutting out occasionally to compensate for power reallocation. "I shorted the part of your internal E-stop relay that would have cut down the current there once I removed your plating."
V2 barely registers her words, too far lost in their own feedback loop of ever-intensifying pleasure, but they still readjust their thighs closer to her in response. She continues rambling, less to V2 and more to herself; rhythm becoming disjointed in her distraction.
"It registers as pleasure because your-" her speech momentarily devolves into a moan of static, "-your root feedback systems categorize your senses into two categories, pleasure, a one, or pain, a zero, the latter of which I removed-- wow you feel so fucking good," Mirage interrupts herself, voice low, "are you close?"
The larger machine nods sharply, eye shut tight. Their HUD warns them of impending input overflow.
"Let me help you out, then." Mirage pauses her rhythm to let go of its leg, letting it fall to her side, and grabs their hip instead. Her other hand wanders up its abdomen and she begins again, hips rolling steadily into V2. She hooks her fingers deep into their midsection, gently pulling, adding to the new wave of input.
V2 barely lasts half a minute before they come with a jolt, involuntarily attempting to pull their legs closer together and scraping the paint off the sides of Mirage's thighs with a loud scratch. Their audio hardware finally force-reboots itself, making them deaf to their own loud, toneless cry of satisfaction.
Every circuit in their battered frame is burning hot, or so it feels for a few painful seconds; their temperature soon regulates itself and its body vents the boiling air out from under its chest in a single burst. Mirage slows down, letting it recuperate for a moment before she carefully pulls out, leaving a small trail of her own lubricant behind.
She sits on her knees, gently lowering V2's thighs down on either side of her.
V2's fans start up again at a low frequency. Cool air flows through its body, a breath of fresh air. Their HUD pings them: its systems are almost at full efficiency again, although its thighs are still trembling.
It smells rain outside; a light drizzle. Not hard enough to get through the window screens, but just enough to hear it tapping on the roof if it turns up the gain on its internal microphone.
V2 looks up at Mirage, who squints down at them in return.
"Apologies for the scratches."
"Apology accepted. It's not like I really mind, though. Just means I did a good job," she replies. She sounds wholeheartedly satisfied, as though she's accomplished some sort of personal challenge.
"Y-" they attempt to respond, but their vocal synthesizer fails them and they clip into a staticky cough. "80% efficiency," it manages to make out. "..You did. Yes."
"Mm. You could pay me back."
Despite its energy being depleted, it feels as though it's overfueled, delirious from being so wholly overwhelmed. It wants to thank her for letting it feel this way. Its base programming tells it its behavior is irrational, that it should crush her smaller frame in defense, that there is no reason it should let her walk over them, turn them into this mess of metal plates and wiring.
And yet, its higher instincts know it feels good; that this time, defeat is its reward.
"Are you going to ask nicely?" V2 manually ups the pitch of its voice slightly, a haphazard attempt at being flirtatious.
She pauses, considering its proposal, then lifts her leg above their hips and straddles them. She has not, as V2 immediately notices, come yet.
"I'm going to fuck your chest. I want you to use your hand, too." Mirage leans in, tapping their heads together. "Please." The final word hangs in the air, drenched in sarcasm, but V2 takes the bait anyway.
"...I will allow it," V2 concedes after a moment, feigning annoyance.
"Thank you," she says, sickeningly over-polite, and she grabs V2's hand; guiding it to her dick as she presses herself down into the shallow groove in the middle of their chest, thighs hugging their sides. She's slick in their hand; the feeling is completely foreign to them, but not uncomfortable.
"Perfect," she grabs the bedframe behind its head to steady herself.
It can feel her twitch under their hand as she grinds into their palm. Her motion is arrhythmic, barely consistent, and V2 almost has difficulty keeping up.
Experimentally, it grips a little harder, holding her closer to their chestplate, and she moans in encouragement, curling her body over them and nearly denting their sides with how hard she's pressing her legs against them. The slight damage would be fair payback, it thinks.
"Sorry if I get you dirty. I can-" Mirage mumbles, voice heavy with static. V2 rubs their thumb around the tip of her dick, emulating her earlier movement; her whole body shudders in reaction. "-I can help clean you off. Fuck, V, that's great, more," she pushes harder into them, and it can feel her shaking. She's close.
"Do you-" V2 starts, but before it can complete the sentence she puts her own hand over theirs, jamming their fingers together and pressing down for a few more desperate thrusts. Mirage comes in their palm, back arching; coolant runs over V2's chest, pooling in the seams of its plating. It feels the warm substance drip down the side of its face.
Mirage's fans go into overdrive, and hot air burns onto V2's legs for a few seconds as her systems reboot. It pulls its hand away gently, coolant sticks to its fingers, webbing between its digits before dripping down onto its palm, threatening to leak into its wrist joints.
Mirage finally relaxes, sitting back on V2's abdomen. It suppresses the overwhelming urge to drag its fingers up her thighs; they should clean up before touching anything else.
"Oh. Right. I'll grab a cloth," she says, a little hastily, and pulls herself off of V2 as they sit up. "It isn't corrosive or anything, it's just uh, messy."
"Why did you design it in such a way, then?"
She pauses to wring out the small rag she wet in the sink, wipes herself off, then rinses the rag off again.
"It feels better that way. You'd also be surprised at how efficient it is, as opposed to other methods of reducing pent-up heat. Better than fans, at least." She tosses the rag across the room to V2. "An added bonus is that you look pretty cute with cum on you."
"Its appeal eludes me, but I am happy to hear you enjoy it." The damp towel hits V2 square in the face. "...Thank you."
The rag mops up most of the mess, although they're sure they'll have to get more of it out of their joints later. When V2 looks up again, Mirage is in a pair of dark sweatpants and a large shirt, with a graphic on it that is incomprehensible to its vision sensors.
"You missed a spot, buddy." She walks over to them and it hands the towel to her; she takes it and wipes off a portion of their left wing. "There."
Mirage crawls up next to them on the bed, and V2 reaches over to tug on the front of her shirt to bring her closer before getting a grip on her waist and pulling her on top of them again, fully pressed against them this time.
"You could just ask to cuddle, you know," she gripes, but welcomes its touch, nuzzling her head against its neck.
It notices a faint noise, something it didn't hear in the moments before.
V2 leans closer. There's a rhythmic humming emanating from her chest.
"Are you malfunctioning?" It taps the center of her back in clarification.
"That noise is my secondary processor," she explains, voice muffled as she presses her face into the pillows above its shoulder. "I nearly broke it while trying to figure out how it worked. One of the fan blades is missing."
"It sounds like a heart," it says.
Mirage doesn't respond, just silently wraps her arms around V2, burying them between the bed and its back. It pauses, listening to the sound a moment more before snaking its hand under her shirt, fingers idly tracing the plating on her back.
"Thanks, V." she mumbles.
"For what?"
"This was nice."
"It..." They can't find the words for it. It doesn't need sex. There's nothing in its programming that requires it to gain stimulation through coitus; it's sure this was not part of its initial protocol, to be modified, used for something so frivolous, human.
It was not made for this, and yet here it is, breaking the rules of its own body, letting itself be dissected, desecrated for her enjoyment as well as its own.
"...It was nice. Yes."
She hums in response, barely audible, and hugs them closer, shirt soft against its exposed wiring. She's limp against them now, secondary processor fan slowing to a murmur. It can't imagine she's comfortable there, but she seems content enough.
V2 pulls up a subroutine, assigning it to clean up its processors and bring its very strained cooling fans back to full efficiency, and it begins to manually shut the rest of its systems into low-power mode.
There is no place they would rather be than here, they think, finally turning down their central processor and allowing themself to fade into black.