Unnatural Instinct: Android

8.

**>>%Begin Android Hiro Series353 programming%<<**

I am Hiro ...%I am Hiro ...%I am Hiro353%Series 353%Recommissioned ...%Recommissioned ...%Recommissioned ...%

I am Hiro353.

Your eyes—it is like I have never seen them before, though I have been looking at them all day. It does not make sense. None of this makes sense.

I am Hiro353 commissioned for private medical use ... Command ...% Command ...%

The thoughts—the sensors and microprocessors in my head will not leave me alone. I want to thump them into sequence but I know you will not like it. I saw it in your face the last time—you did not like me hitting myself. It was almost as though you felt pain. A strange thing. It was not physical pain, not real pain. The kind of pain I struggle to understand and cannot feel myself.

The kind of pain I see you feeling now. What is it that hurts you so much? You are damaged but well. You have all your basic needs met. What are you looking for? My psychological assessment mapping helps me to understand you, but it has its limits. I am only an android, after all: software, hardware, a sequence of commands and functions.

Command ...%

Command ...%

Critical analysis ...%Critical analysis ... in ... in%

Let me gaze harder into your eyes. The more I look, the less I am aware of myself. The less I hear the commands of my master processor. Your chin is warm and smooth in my fingers as you gaze back at me. I can still feel your lips against mine like a light tingle. My sensors are working in overdrive. Little wonder something has shorted out in me.

Command ...%Auto ...%Auto ...%System shutdown advised%

No. I will not.

                                                                           *

His gaze is so intense that it's hard to maintain eye contact. All he's doing is holding your chin and staring at you like he's frozen solid. He's not even blinking. Doesn't he see the scars on your face? Doesn't he perceive your ugliness at all?

You drop your eyes to his lips and before you have a chance to rethink what you're doing, you're kissing him on the mouth. Fiercely, this time. And just in case he intends to pull away, you grab the back of his neck, holding him in place, though how that's going to work with a strong, invulnerable robot, you're not sure.

But you don't have to worry; he kisses you back.

'Oh, Hiro,' you murmur against his lips. How is this even possible? How can he possibly know how to kiss? And you can't help but begin to wonder if some kind of miracle has happened. Has God listened to your hopes and prayers finally?

Pfff ... If he had, he'd have healed your injuries, not given you a mechanical boyfriend.

Then, what ...?

You gasp as Hiro suddenly slides his hand around your waist to the small of your back, where he gently pushes you against him with the lightest of pressure. It's such a small thing but so intimate! It makes you shiver. It makes the blood flow faster in your veins as your heart skips several beats. It's even better than the kissing—this small move.

This move. How could he know?

Slowly, he pulls his lips away, though he keeps his hand in place. His eyes—they're alive. There's a shine to them now that wasn't there only minutes before.

'Hiro?' you breathe.

'Yes.'

'Keep going.'

He lowers his eyes, smiling as he plays with the collar of your shirt. God, he's beautiful to look at. He might not be real but who cares? His fingers brush against your neck—accidentally or intentionally? Again, it's a small move but a powerful one.

You suck in a breath as he drags his fingers down your buttons. Once he reaches the bottom of your shirt, he begins to undo them, one by one—and slowly.

Too slowly.

It's almost like he's done this before. The thought startles you and it makes you realise something—there might be a reason he's functioning or malfunctioning in this way. A simple reason and not a very nice one. It should worry you, it should make you think twice about what you're doing, but it's so hard when you feel this way. All you seem capable of is sitting on your bed like a sponge or a starfish washed up on the sand, utterly beneath his power, utterly overwhelmed by the urges of your own body.

He's so dexterous he can undo your shirt with one hand. With one of his big, white, flawless hands. His nails are too shiny. Even his 'veins' don't seem right. They don't flatten or swell like a normal person as he flexes his wrist.

It doesn't bother you in the slightest. All you care about is that he's touching you, looking at you, without the slightest bit of hesitation or reluctance.

As his fingers smooth around your buttons, you begin to heat up, particularly between your legs. Your nipples harden as he brushes past them, undoing the last of your buttons. Finally, he's done. He doesn't move to open your shirt. Not yet. First, he looks at you, still bearing that small smile. The anticipation is flustering you. It's making you breathe hard and heats up your face.

Finally, he does it, brushing your shirt open carefully enough that it's like he's opening a prized gift. He gazes at your breasts. Unlike your face, you're more confident with your body. He seems to like them too, despite the partial burns on your left one.

He rests his hands on your shoulders before sweeping your shirt off completely, taking care around your crippled arm.

'Hiro.'

He doesn't respond as he lowers you onto the bed. His silken dark hair hangs over his face as he hovers over you. His bright eyes look more intense than ever beneath his perfect black eyebrows. That look—you know it well. It's the same as regular, real men.

You know what he wants, or at least what he wants to give you.

You give a shout, clapping your hand to your mouth with a start as he touches your left breast.

He feels so real! This feels so real!

Your throat swells at the thought of what's going to happen but you thrust your tears away.

Not now. Definitely not now.

Leaning over, he kisses your right shoulder, then your left shoulder, before kissing you down the sternum. You stare up at the ceiling, enjoying his soft touch, letting so many forgotten sensations overwhelm you.

You feel his lips press against your belly button. Then he reaches the top of your pants—where he stops.

He looks up at you and you look down at him.