Chapter 8
Notes:
At last, Milo gets his much overdo *ahem* length. ^_-
Definitely don’t miss the ending notes this time, people!
MILO
“Are you certain you do not need me to remove my underwear as well?”
The question brought color to Master’s cheeks.
No, not Master—Rowan. To Rowan’s cheeks.
Milo stood in the living room after completing Rowan’s tasks for him, and after Rowan had finished his evening meal. Milo had stripped down to everything but his underwear per Rowan’s request.
“I’m certain,” Rowan said with a waver of control like he wasn’t as certain as he claimed.
“If some of the damaged area I need to replace is beneath the waistline, I’ll just…
tug the underwear down a little. Now, before we begin, I need you to turn off your sensory inputs in the following sequence. ”
Once again, Milo did as asked. Rowan had explained already that the goal of lessening sensory input was to dilute any chance of Milo feeling pain from the damaged area being touched or from having that portion of his back removed and replaced.
That Rowan cared so much about potentially causing Milo pain soothed his apprehension by an incomputable amount.
“Now, lie on your front on the sofa before everything takes effect,” Rowan said. “You might start to, um… feel woozy, I think.”
“What does ‘woozy’ feel like?” Milo asked, but as he sat and then turned to sprawl out on his stomach with his feet stretched out behind him, a strange dip of his insides assaulted him as if his parts had all fallen out through his makeshift skin right to the floor—which was entirely improbable. “Izzz this… woozy?” he slurred.
Milo’s jaw felt like it was filled with putty, his vision somewhat blurry, and he was starting to no longer feel the sofa beneath him at all.
Distantly, he heard Rowan chuckle.
What a lovely sound.
“Yeah, Milo, I’m thinking it is. Just relax. Tell me if you experience any discomfort, and I’ll be done before you know it.”
“Okay…” Why did Milo’s tongue feel so thick? If this was what woozy felt like to humans, no wonder it incapacitated them.
Although Milo could only vaguely feel or compute anything going on around or to him, there was the barest sensation of pressure on his back and the gentle grazing of roughened fingertips. He gasped. Even dulled, the feeling was… interesting.
“Does that hurt?”
“Nnno… izzzz… nice.”
“Okay, Milo. Again, let me know if at any point it isn’t.”
“Mm-hm,” Milo hummed agreement.
If Rowan hadn’t asked Milo to put himself into this state, being like this would have caused him to run countless diagnostics to solve the problem.
Resisting the urge to do so anyway was odd.
Not difficult, just strange. Milo knew what any report of his systems would say anyway.
His sensory input was turned down or completely off in some cases.
All he’d need to do once this was over was reset it all.
Still, since he was lying down, the floating sensation he was feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
REPORT SIMILAR SENSATIONS IN HUMANS: Light-headedness. Blurred vision. Disorientation. Slower processing of surroundings and state of being.
Analyzing…
The response came moments later, as the pressure and gentle touches on Milo’s back continued.
This combination of sensations is most often associated with high levels of intoxication. Other conditions probable with these symptoms—
“I’m drunk!”
“What?” Rowan asked through an obvious laugh.
“I-I report… I am experiencing what humans describe as being intox… intoxi… toxin?”
“Intoxicated?”
“That!”
Rowan chuckled again.
“I like your laugh, Rowan.” Milo rubbed his cheek against the sofa cushion, which was just as dulled on his skin as everything else, but still nice in some ways.
“I like your laugh too, Milo.”
“I do not laugh.”
“You did a little before.” Rowan still sounded amused. “I’m looking forward to hearing it more often.”
Milo liked when Rowan sounded happy. “What would I laugh at? Are you funny, Rowan? What izzz funny?”
“Subjective. Now, hold still. I’m almost done. Still no pain?”
“Mmm, no. I like when you touch me.”
Rowan didn’t answer that. When he did speak again, it was to inform Milo that he was finished. “You can roll over now and restart your sensory inputs, but stay lying down until you feel normal, okay?”
“Okay, Rowan.”
Reinitializing primary sensors…
Still feeling sluggish at first, it took Milo a moment to roll over onto his back.
There was still no pain, and it was nice having Rowan crouched on the floor so close to him, looking into his eyes as Milo’s vision began to clear.
The tools and replaced parts were on the floor, including the section of Milo’s back where his charging port had been and some of his scarred synthetic skin.
“I installed a backup prototype surge protector,” Rowan said. “Good thing I had one. I'll need to finish another to show Director Andreas come Monday, given the original one is fried. That shouldn't be too difficult though. I have all the schematics.”
Since Milo could not see his back, he asked, “Does everything look normal now where you made the repairs?” He knew that while different areas of his skin and parts could be removed, once returned, any fissures left behind sealed as if he had always been whole.
“Some of your remaining skin still has lightning scars. I can replace those patches eventually. With the charging port changed out, it’s sort of like the scars are a sunburst around the new tissue.” Rowan chuckled.
“Do you like it?”
“Hm?”
“The way the sunburst looks? You sound amused by it. Pleased.”
“It’s… kind of neat, I guess. Makes you unique. You are so unique, Milo, you have no idea.”
“Mmm…” Milo’s senses must still have been returning to functionality because he didn’t tell his arms to move or really think about it. They simply reached of their own accord to take hold of Rowan’s nearest hand and brought it down to splay flat against Milo’s bare chest.
Milo gasped. His sensory inputs were definitely rebooting, and Rowan’s touch felt so much better when he could experience it fully.
“Uh… Milo, what are you—?”
“I need to be sure I am functioning correctly,” Milo said, moving Rowan’s hand to stroke up and down his chest, and then lower over his stomach. “Feeling things correctly. Ngnnn…” A low sound Milo had never made before left him—a moan, drawn out by how good Rowan’s hand on him felt.
“Milo…”
He drew the hand back up and slightly right, causing Rowan’s thumb to graze a nipple. Milo moaned again. “Is this… how I make you feel when I touch you, Rowan?”
“Shit,” Rowan huffed beneath his breath.
Milo looked at him, unsure what had prompted a curse, but Rowan’s eyes were trained below Milo’s waist, and when Milo followed his gaze, he saw that he was starting to harden, which had never happened before without explicit instruction to do so.
Milo drew Rowan’s hand down toward the growing bulge beneath his underwear.
“Milo!” Rowan tore his hand from Milo’s grasp, looking startled and quite flushed in the face. He was aroused too. Milo knew all the signs. If they were both aroused, Milo could not understand why Rowan would pull away from him.
“Please, Rowan. It is such a nice sensation.” He sought after Rowan’s hand again. “I want you to touch me.”
“Shit,” Rowan cursed again, trying at first to keep his hand from Milo, but eventually letting him take it. “You make it difficult to refuse you…”
“Then why do so? You said to ask if I wanted anything, and this is what I want.” Milo brought Rowan’s hand to his chest once more, starting where they had begun, and soon moving it downward again, brushing it along Milo’s skin with a clear destination.
“Milo, are you still feeling… drunk?”
“No, Rowan. Not anymore. All systems are normal.” Milo tilted his head, smiling when Rowan’s eyes met his.
Milo knew this sensation. While it had been very different in the past when Rowan's orders for them to become intimate had initiated the response, filling Milo's member with fluid and hardening it in perfect facsimile to a human erection, he had felt no accompanying, well, anything.
There had only been acknowledgment of orders followed and parts functioning correctly.
Now there was no order. There was simply warmth, heat, and a strange new tingling sensation that seemed to take over, as if his member had a mind of its own now and had ordered itself to ripen.
“I am also at the start of arousal,” Milo finished.
“Fuck.” Rowan closed his eyes for a moment but didn’t pull away, allowing Milo to bring his hand over Milo’s clothed erection. Rowan palmed it, squeezing gently.
Milo moaned louder, with a wonderful heat growing inside him that had nothing to do with malfunctioning parts. He was starting to recognize this specific heat as the precursor and accompaniment to arousal and encouraged Rowan to squeeze him again with plaintive presses from his hand.
Rowan obeyed, and Milo couldn’t stifle the chorus of sounds that left him.
“Mmm, Rowan… no wonder you make such lovely noises when I touch you.”
Rowan laughed, but it didn’t seem as though anything was funny. “Your noises aren’t half bad either. Milo… would you like to experience what it feels like when you help me… relax?”
“You would do that for me?” Milo asked. A simple touch over cloth was thrilling. He could hardly process the idea of what Rowan’s bare hand and mouth on him might feel like.
“If you want me to,” Rowan said.
“Yes! Oh, please, yes.”
There was reticence in Rowan’s expression, which was strange to Milo, because Rowan had never acted this way toward sexual acts together before. But then Milo could not enjoy them before.
“If you are concerned about providing the pleasure I desire, Rowan, I am certain you have nothing to worry about.”