Work Text:
“But why do I have to do it?”
“Because the android is supposed to work in law. We’re not law students, you are,” Dean replied.
“Then why not make an engineering robot since you’re engineering students?” you asked.
“That’s redundant,” Ash replied plainly from where he was soldering a computer chip across the room. The whole lab was full of computers and hardware that you didn’t recognize or understand. You sighed and looked back to Dean and Jo, who sat across the table from you. Dean looked slightly bored, Jo seemed hopeful you’d agree.
After a beat you sighed and said, “I’ll do it.”
“Yes!” Jo said as she nudged Dean happily. To his credit, he looked pleased.
“What do I have to do?” you asked, hoping you didn’t agree to anything too rigorous. There were only so many hours in a day and you had enough on your plate finishing the last year of your degree. And truthfully, you never really minded helping your friends. You enjoyed it, even. The only thing that held you up was the task itself. You knew next to nothing about androids.
“He’ll be done in a few days,” Dean replied, “We’ll send him over then. He’ll shadow you to help train his AI and give you time to catch any bugs in his system.”
Confused, you asked, “He?”
“Dean’s very attached,” Ash interjected again, still not looking up from his work.
Jo spoke next, “Do you want to see?” You nodded so she led you to a large crate covered in a white sheet while Dean joined Ash at the table covered in computer bits. Jo pulled the cloth and revealed the android that would be living with you for the foreseeable future.
He was huge and… handsome? You hadn’t expected that. Though, you’d never seen an android in real life before. Their technology was still new, a program that the Stanford engineering department was the forerunner in. Jo, Dean, and Ash had been talking to you about this project for a year, but were quite secretive about it as per the department rules. They’d gotten special permission to let you work with it and test it out.
Him? It? You didn’t quite know how to refer to the android that was in front of you. Fundamentally, you knew it wasn’t alive. It looked like it was sleeping standing up in the box, but it’s chest wasn’t moving like a human’s would in sleep. Even still, it looked so real, so human. Everything from the pores on its synthetic skin to the hair on its head looked like the real thing. You didn’t quite know what to make of it.
“Why’s it so tall?” you wondered out loud.
“The idea is that if he’s able to practice law one day, his height could be an intimidating factor. Could make people take him more seriously,” Jo replied. It made you notice something.
“You say ‘him’, too,” you said as you looked at your friend.
Jo laughed a bit, “It’s hard not to after working on him for so long. He’s very real to us.”
You looked back to the android, “Does he have a name?”
“Sam,” she said, “It means Synthetic Autonomous Machine .”
“I honestly can’t tell if that’s a shitty name,” you chuckled.
“It’s a cool fucking name,” Dean shouted from the table. You and Jo exchanged a knowing look.
“He’s sensitive about Sam,” Jo whispered to you, “Treats him like his kid brother or something. He even picks out all the clothes for Sam.” You knew Dean had always wanted siblings, so you could see how he’d latch onto the machine. Ash would always joke that Dean could pack-bond with anything, Sam was proof of that. Beyond that, you weren’t surprised that Dean picked out the flannel and jeans Sam was dressed in.
You gave Sam one last look before saying goodbye to your friends and excusing yourself back to the library to finish your work.
Three days later, there was a knock at your apartment door. It was late morning. One of your classes had been cancelled, so you opted to have the morning to catch up on some work. You weren’t expecting anyone, but answered anyway.
Your heart nearly dropped out of your chest when you opened the door to see Sam blinking down at you. He was dressed similarly to the other day, the thought that Dean may have given him a full wardrobe confused you. There was a backpack casually slung over his shoulder. He smiled warmly at you and extended his hand, you looked down to see a folded up note being offered to you.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Sam,” he said. Regaining your composure, you returned the pleasantry, told him your name, and took the note from his outstretched hand.
“You can… come in. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Sounds good.” Sam nodded as you stepped aside to let him in. You’d forgotten just how tall he was, you guessed he had to be several inches over six feet. Though, you didn’t know how the hardened-lawyer thing was going to work when he kept smiling at you like a puppy. And he sounded so casual, so human. Jo had been right, it was hard to think of him as an “it” when he was walking and talking like this. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he was just another student.
Shaking your head, you stepped out of the living room and into the kitchen to take a breath. When your friends had told you that Sam would be ready in a few days, you hadn’t expected for him to waltz right up to your door. You unfolded the note and recognized Jo’s handwriting.
Sorry we couldn’t make the drop off! Got called into an emergency tech meeting with some underclassmen. Sam knows all of his programs and protocols, so you can ask him any questions you’d like about his functions. Remember, we want him to be a lawyer! Quiz him and let him study since we could only program so much info into him.
He has everything he needs to keep himself maintained and busy. I’ll stop by later to check on you! Text me if you need anything in the meantime. Thanks again :)
So, you were stuck with the android until the afternoon. Though, “stuck” might not be the right word. Now that you’d seen just how lifelike he was, he fascinated you a bit more than before, if not a bit overwhelmed by how impressive his existence was. You’d expected a more rigid, toaster-oven-sci-fi kind of robot. Sam was anything but.
You poured a glass of water to give your hands something to hold in your nervousness and returned to the living room. Sam had set his bag down on your couch that was positioned near the middle of the room and was standing at the bookshelves that sat caddy corner to the windows. He’d grabbed one of your law textbooks off of the shelf and was flipping through it at an alarming rate. It dawned on you that he probably didn’t read like humans, instead scanning the pages to absorb the information much faster. Almost immediately after you walked in, he looked up to meet your eye with a polite smile.
“I hope you don’t mind me looking at this,” he said, closing the book and showing you the cover.
You sat on one of the chairs opposite the couch and responded, “I don’t. Jo says it’s good for you to learn so you can read whichever ones you want.”
“Thank you,” he said before looking at your books, “You have an impressive collection.” The shelves lined the wall, floor to ceiling, giving the illusion of a custom set laid into the wall. In reality, they were some semi-affordable department store shelves that Dean had mounted for you. You told Sam as much.
“Dean helped me install the shelves and I know all the ladies at the second-hand bookstore by name,” you said. It was almost a joke and you wondered if Sam had processors to understand that. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge it.
“I like Dean,” he said, taking a seat on the couch across from you. He let himself half fall into the cushions, like any other college boy would.
“You can like things?”
That smile again. “I can like things.”
You thought about that for a moment before remembering, “Jo’s note said I could ask you about your functions. Is there anything I should know so you don’t, you know, blow up or anything?” You hoped that didn’t sound too catastrophic, you had no idea what “going wrong” would look like within the frame of Sam. But he laughed , unzipped his backpack, and pulled out a reusable water bottle, a long cord, and an off-brand cell phone.
“This is my coolant. My machinery can run hot, so I have to ingest this a few times a day to make sure I don’t overheat.”
“Ingest?” you asked, curious about that specific wording. Turns out, it was accurate because Sam unscrewed the lid of the bottle and took a sip. He gave a little “ta-da” motion when he was done, which made you smile. He was silly, that surprised you.
“Either Dean or Ash will make sure I don’t run out. In a pinch, distilled water will work, but it should only be used in emergencies.” You nodded so he continued after picking up the cord, “This is my charger. I have a small port on the back of my head that can plug into any three prong wall outlet. I only need to recharge every few days though. Generally, I can detect when my batteries are running low and can plug myself in. You’ll know if my batteries die because I’ll be unresponsive and quite stiff. Dean said it looks like rigor mortis setting in.”
“Of course he did,” you said before pointing to the phone, “What’s that for?”
“This is my remote control.” He handed it to you and you noticed it looked almost identical to a smartphone before you turned it on and saw an unfamiliar custom interface that Ash must have programmed. “It doesn’t do much yet. There’s information about my software, update capabilities, manual shut down, and contact info for Jo, Dean, and Ash in case a stranger needs it.”
“Huh,” you mumbled as you tapped around on the device, looking at the information. Apparently, he was running S.A.M 1.09.13.09, not that it meant anything to you.
The way he spoke about all of this technology in relation to himself was somewhat jarring given his appearance. Your brain couldn’t compute something that looked like a human needing to be plugged into a wall.
“What should we do now?” he asked you casually, as if the two of you had been friends for some time instead of strangers that just met.
“Well, I was supposed to have a class today, but the professor is sick. I was planning on staying in and studying for a while, if you’d like to join me.”
Sam nodded eagerly and got back up to look at the bookcase as you grabbed your computer from the coffee table, pulled it into your lap, and kept reviewing your cases. As you worked, Sam flipped through your books. Without meaning to, your thoughts kept drifting to him. It was easy to forget your work and steal a glance at him. He chewed the edge of his lip as he studied.
He got through at least two dozen textbooks when you finally worked up the nerve to ask, “How’d they make your face?”
It dawned on you after the fact that the question could possibly be offensive. Could androids be offended? Thankfully, Sam seemed unphased.
He looked up from his current book and said, “Jo commissioned an art student to design me. She said the woman’s name is Becky. I asked to meet her, but Dean told me I couldn’t. He said she's too intense .” The look of confusion on his face made you let out a small laugh, he seemed genuinely puzzled.
“I’m going to make some lunch, do you want some—” you stopped yourself when you remembered who you were talking to. “I mean, do you want to sit with me?”
“That’d be nice,” replied as he set a book on fundamentals of law with the stack he’d been going through.
You led him to the kitchen and told him where everything was, cups and bowls and such, though you didn’t really know why. It’s what you did any time any of your other friends came over, in case they needed anything. Sam told you he could like things, maybe he liked being treated like a person.
Given the square footage of your apartment, you had a decently large kitchen. There was an island that separated it from the living room with stools along the side. Sam had brought his bottle of coolant with him, so he took a seat on one of the stools and took a drink, watching you as you prepared a sandwich. He made small talk as you worked, asking about your life. You told him where you were from, about your family, and why you chose to study law. He told you a bit about his earliest memories when he was still a program in a computer, before his body had been built. It was strange to hear about his past, it was so different from something you could recognize. You couldn’t comprehend having memories without a form to experience them. But he seemed really excited to share it with you. It made you wonder how often he got to talk to people outside of Jo, Dean, and Ash. Once you were done fixing your food, you stood across from him at the kitchen island and ate.
“Why do you drink little bits at a time?” you asked, curious if it had to do with his internal mechanisms.
“I don’t have to.” He shrugged. “Technically, I could drink all of it at once. But humans seem to enjoy eating so much. I can’t do that, so I thought I’d try and savor what I can ingest.”
“That makes sense,” you said in between bites of food, “It doesn’t bother you to watch me eat? I’d feel bad if I just reminded you of what you’re missing out on.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind at all. The only time I wish I could is when I see Dean eating.” That comment made you laugh. You knew all about Dean and his insatiable appetite. The first thing he did any time he came over was check the fridge. It used to bother you, but you came to see it as an endearing quirk in his character.
“Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything Dean loves more than eating,” you said.
“Well, sex,” Sam said nonchalantly with a shrug.
You almost choked on your food, “What— What about it?”
“Dean likes sex more than food. But he called it ‘fucking’. ‘I like fucking more than I like a meal,’ is what he said.” And as if he had no idea what he was doing, Sam looked directly into your eyes when he said it. He put on this deeper, almost mocking voice when he quoted Dean. Your face flushed and your heart did a somersault. Right as you were trying to figure out how exactly to respond to that, a knock came at the door.
“ Oh, thank God ,” you muttered as you walked a bit faster than necessary to answer it. To your relief, it was Jo.
“Sorry about dumping Sam on you,” she said in lieu of a greeting as you let her in, “Bobby wanted to have us review a bunch of stuff for some of the freshmen cause their robotics kept overheating and catching fire. Then he had some more ideas to share with us about Sam. I’m trying not to let it piss me off that he wants to expand his programming this close to finals.”
“Hey, Jo,” Sam said as she sat next to him and you retook the place you’d been standing with your food.
“Sam, how have you been settling in?” She asked while you got her some water.
“She let me read her books and I feel I’ve learned a lot,” Sam answered, sounding proud of himself.
“Could you enter stasis mode for a moment? I have to transfer a software update to your system,” Jo explained. Sam complied with a nod and closed his eyes. After a moment, a small red light shone through his t-shirt where his heart would be. You almost caught yourself saying his name to see if he’d wake up, but then you realized this wouldn’t be like rousing someone from sleep. Jo would likely have to manually power him back on. The thought again conflicted your opinion of Sam. For a while, it had felt like hanging out with another human. It was easy to forget what he was.
“Anything weird he’s done so far?” Jo asked you as she held Sam’s control box, pressing random buttons before inserting a USB stick. It didn’t seem to need to be physically connected to him to work on his internals.
“Nothing that I noticed,” you lied. Would Jo probably need to know if the android was speaking inappropriately? Yes, you supposed. Were you going to tell Jo that her handsome Sam was talking to you about fucking? Absolutely not. You changed the subject, “What’s the update for?”
“The stuff Bobby wanted to talk about,” Jo huffed, “Apparently, investors are taking interest in our project and have funded some additional research. Bobby tried talking the school board out of expanding our project so close to our graduation, but they wouldn’t have it. So I spent the last hour practically glueing together old code that we’d abandoned a year ago to polish up a program to add onto the experiment.” You could easily sense her annoyance and understood how this would complicate things for her and the boys.
“What’s the extra stuff looking into?” You didn’t often understand their research, science had never been your thing, but you always tried nonetheless.
“There’s some big tech company that has a companionship AI, a virtual friend, basically. They paid for us to look into making Sam a companion bot. Thankfully, that’s not too much of a stretch. The code just allows him to form more emotional bonds and relationships, really expands his personality more than anything. It’ll also make him more interested in connecting with people. I’m assigning you as his ‘target’, so he’ll be most interested in the connection between you two.”
You were determined to not think about any sort of connection with Sam.
Wanting to help out where you could, you asked, “Anything else I should watch out for with this new stuff being installed?”
Jo thought for a moment before responding, “Well, on top of making sure he’d make a good lawyer, just see if you enjoy being around him. This new company only wants people to like being friends with Sam. The more likeable he is, the better money they make, I suppose.”
You looked at his face. It looked peaceful, his sleep-like stasis setting.
“He told me about Becky,” you said, making conversation after she went back to tapping away on the device.
She looked you dead in the eyes and said, “That woman scares me, I mean it. Something ain't right about the look in her eye.”
You smiled, trying not to laugh, “She’s really that bad? Sam said she wasn’t even allowed to see her.”
Jo said your name in a tone she only reserved for utmost emphasis, “She’s written stories about them together. Of course she can’t see Sam. She’d jump his metal bones and then we’d have to find some other wealthy idiot to fork out a million dollars for repairs.” You did laugh at that before falling into a near awkward silence. The only sound you heard for a brief moment was Jo’s fingers against the screen of Sam’s controller.
“He… can’t do… that though, can he?” you asked timidly, hoping you maintained at least some normalcy in your voice amidst your nerves. Jo gave you a funny look before pressing one last button on the side of the device. Sam’s light turned off in his chest and he opened his eyes. There was an expression you didn’t recognize on his face. He looked disoriented, almost. After staring off into the kitchen for a moment, he suddenly looked right at you. Through the confusion, there was something deeper in his eyes. His gaze seemed… different. He didn’t look at you quite the same way as he had been the whole morning.
Jo ran diagnostics on Sam while you tidied up the mess from your lunch. Every so often, you’d catch Sam’s eye. Something was definitely off about him all of a sudden. You figured it must be him computing his new directives to bond with you. It didn’t bother you, though, it didn't come off as creepy. It was endearing, almost. Like a guy that keeps stealing glances from across a room, but is too shy to come over and say anything to you.
“Well, that about covers it,” Jo said, seemingly pleased with Sam after the update, “I’ve got to head out to keep putting out fires back in engineering,” she sighed, “Jesus, actual fires.”
Sam took it upon himself to let her out as you wished her luck. He stood at the door, but turned to watch you as you reentered the living room and went back to perching on your chair to study.
“How do you feel?” you asked as Sam hovered nervously behind the couch. You wondered if his sudden awkwardness was meant to be an endearing part of the program, or this was his natural reaction to the new code.
“I feel… a lot. I feel a lot of things. Feeling is…” He trailed off again, “New. Different.”
“Bad different?” you asked, curious if he could tell between good and bad in relation to himself.
Sam paused for longer than you expected. You almost asked if he was okay before he spoke again.
“Good,” he said somewhat confidently.
“Do you want to go back to studying? Or I could quiz you. Jo said I should do that too.”
Sam nodded eagerly before rounding the couch to sit and said, “Quiz.”
“Okay, talk to me about U.S. vs Nixon and its judiciary applicability to the current presidency,” you said as you leaned back in your chair, getting comfortable. This was a perfect idea. You could hang out with Sam and study at the same time, win-win.
Sam did explain the case and its current importance to you in great length. He sounded very professional and competent when he spoke. It wasn't hard to imagine him in a nice suit, talking to a jury. He was sweet, trustworthy, and handsome. A jury would love him. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to love him.
After what accidentally turned into several hours of law discussion, you and Sam got a late dinner. Leftover takeout for you and more coolant for him. This time, the two of you sat at the table, like a real meal.
“Do you sleep?” you asked when the conversation stalled. “I just don’t know if I need to offer you anywhere to rest.”
“No, I don’t sleep, not in the way you do, at least. I can enter stasis if I choose, but I usually have enough to mull over through the night that I just run programs and computations. I do generally sit or lie down with my eyes closed though. Dean got mad at me for standing in the dark with my eyes open a few times. Said it was ‘creepy as shit’,” he emphasized with air quotes, “to come into every morning.”
You laughed and Sam smiled.
“Is the couch okay for that? Or there’s a spare bedroom that never gets used. Jo told me it could be a while that you’re here for the beta testing. It might be nice to have your own space. There’s room to put your clothes and other things away in there.”
“That would be nice, I think. I’ve never had a room before,” he replied. It was strange, to hear him expound complex information, while at the same time watching him experience life as novelty. It had been an interesting day since his arrival. The scary part was over, meeting Sam and figuring out the basics of robotic cohabitation. Now, you just had at least a month of living together to keep figuring that out.
You led Sam to the bedroom, across the hall from yours. He set his bag on the bed and looked around. It was a plain room, only furnished with a bed, nightstand, and dresser. There were some knick knacks and art on the walls to liven the space up a bit, but it was nothing special. You just liked having a nice space to let friends or family stay in when they visited.
“There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall. I don’t know if you… need to know that information,” you trailed off, not really sure where to go with that line of thought.
“Coolant, I’ve gotta get rid of it once in a while,” he replied.
“Oh, how do you do that? Is that a weird question?”
“I have a penis,” he answered as if that wasn’t an inappropriate thing to say to a practical stranger and new roommate.
“Pardon?” you asked before your brain could process what he said.
“I said, I have a penis—”
“Right— oh my god — you have to stop doing that.” When Sam looked confused, you gestured to him vaguely and said, “Saying stuff like ‘penis’ and ‘fucking’!”
“Okay, ‘fucking’ I understand. But penis is an anatomical word and isn’t generally considered foul language.”
“Fine,” you responded, exasperated, “But you don’t talk to people about it!”
“But you asked how I drained my coolant, and my penis—”
“Can we stop saying penis, please?” you blurted.
“Would you prefer if I said cock?” Sam replied and you froze, heart pounding out of your chest. You were torn between focusing on what he said and how he said it. The usual innocence his voice carried was gone, replaced by something bolder. Was he teasing you?
You didn’t respond, so Sam continued, “Your pulse is racing.”
“You’re scanning me?” you asked with more curiosity in your voice than malice.
He shrugged, but didn’t change his focused expression much. He spoke quietly as his eyes searched your face, “It’s an uncontrollable impulse, like a sneeze. Your face flushed, so I checked your heart.”
“Why do you even—” you cut yourself off by gesturing vaguely to his pants.
“Dean thought it would be funny and Ash outvoted Jo.”
You rolled that information around in your brain. There wasn’t anything to do with it though. Sam was an android. There was no point in paying any mind to his teasing, nothing would come of it. This was simply his new social module messing with you. That’s all.
“I should get to bed, early class,” you stepped back towards the door to cross the hall to your room, “Goodnight, Sam.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, causing you to turn and glance at him, “If I made you uncomfortable. People are… new to me.” There’s that puppy dog android again, staring at you with his big hazel eyes. You couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“It’s okay. You didn’t bother me, not really.”
“That’s good,” he said as tension visibly left his shoulders. Robots could be tense? “Goodnight, then.”
“Night, Sammy,” you said, closing his bedroom door behind you.
You noticed that your heart was still pounding. As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. As nerve wracking as it had been at times, you’d really enjoyed your day with him and you were looking forward to the beta test period. It might be kind of nice to have a roommate for once.
As you laid down in your bed, you briefly wondered what Sam thought of you, if he was still thinking about you. Grabbing a pillow, you held it over your face and groaned. You were so screwed.
You and Sam fell into an easy routine. Once a day, one of your friends would stop by to check on him and refill his coolant. He’d attend a few of your classes with special permission from your professors, but no one knew what he was. Jo said it would attract too much attention to advertise the fact that he’s a near-human android, which you agreed with. The story the school board agreed with was that he was an exchange student through a program that let certain majors explore other universities for a short time. As far as anyone else knew, Sam “Winchester” was Dean’s cousin from UC Berkeley. No one had any reason to question that, so they didn’t.
Every morning, Sam greeted you in the kitchen with a smile. He’d taken to pouring his morning drink into a coffee mug. Said it made him feel normal. You didn’t mind though because he always did the dishes after breakfast, no matter how many times you said he didn’t have to.
“Good roommates help out with the chores,” he said. It didn’t take you long to get him to admit that he’d been reading articles online about dorm life in college. It was moments like that that made him seem so human. If you didn’t know any better, he seemed like some slightly awkward guy who didn’t get out much before going to school. You were determined to change that.
“Let’s go do something today,” you announced at the end of your first week with Sam, “We’ve been too cooped up these past few days and I’m getting cabin fever.” Dean had messaged you that morning that he’d dropped off extra coolant so they wouldn’t have to stop by every day now that the team knew Sam was doing well in the real world. The two of you suddenly had some extra time on your hands not having to wait around for the delivery.
“The signs and symptoms of cabin fever don’t generally align with your current mental state. Are you sure—” Sam started before you cut him off.
“It’s a figure of speech, Dr. Bot.”
He nodded. “Oh, gotcha.”
“You get to decide what we do today, since I’ve already done pretty much everything in the city.”
Sam stilled for a moment and had this far off look on his face. You’d learned that meant he was taking extra time to compute, or “think” about something.
After a second, he spoke, “I think I’d like to go to a museum, see a movie, and visit a bar.” His response made you laugh so he asked, “What’s funny?”
“I just can’t figure you out, that’s all,” you said, smiling. You couldn’t imagine what an android would want to do in a bar, the museum and movie made more sense, but you’d let him choose afterall.
Twenty minutes later, you and Sam were ready to go. You didn’t own a car, so you told him he’d get to experience the joys of public transportation. It wasn’t until you reached the school gates that Sam told you he’d never left the campus before.
“Wait, seriously? You’ve been here your whole life?” you asked as he stopped and looked out into the world.
“‘Life’ is an oxymoron when referring to me,” he reminded you.
“Just because you’re not alive like I am, doesn’t mean you don’t have a life.” When you said that, Sam looked at you in that funny way he’d done so often in the past week. You still couldn’t figure out what exactly it meant.
“I like the way you see me,” he said, quietly.
“Okay, you big sap, let’s get to the bus stop,” you said as you took his hand and led him to the bench where the two of you could wait. The fact that you were holding hands didn’t fully register until you sat down. In a split second, you pulled your hand out of his. He immediately retook your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.
“Why’d you let go?” he asked innocently.
“Oh,” you tried to think of a way to explain it, “Usually, couples hold hands. You know, on dates and such. Honestly, I don’t even know why I grabbed your hand in the first place.” You huffed an awkward laugh.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, releasing your hand with a disappointed look on his face. It hadn’t taken you long to learn that you had a bit of a pouty robot.
As you two waited for the bus, you enjoyed the fresh air. It was a beautiful, cloudless day and there was a warm breeze that ruffled Sam’s hair as he sat.
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Sam asked abruptly as you were watching some birds flit around a bush across the street.
“Yeah, a couple,” you replied, “None of them were very good, though.”
“Why not?”
“Well, one of them was too focused on his job and another didn’t approve of my law degree. He thought women should stay home instead of work, we weren’t together long. But my last boyfriend, I just don’t think he liked me very much.” You shrugged. You tried not to think of your failing romantic life very often.
“I like you,” Sam said, earnestly. You looked up at him and he was looking back at you fondly.
“You do?”
He answered, “You’re much better to hang out with than Ash and Dean and Jo. I’m a project to them, but I’m a friend to you. You don’t make me feel different. I know I am, but it's nice not to be constantly reminded of it. I get to feel like a man with you, instead of just being a machine.”
You didn’t know how to tell him that he made you feel the same way, that it was nice to be seen by someone for once. But then, you remembered that the way he was treating you was just a program. He was meant to get you to like him, to get you to feel content with your companion bot, that was his only objective right now. It was all an elaborate game of pretend.
Even still, you couldn’t help but tell him, “I like you too.” And the way he smiled at you didn’t seem pretend, the warmth you felt because of it certainly wasn’t either.
The museum was the first stop. It was an art museum that had a touring collection of classics on display. At the admission counter, Sam told you he felt bad that you had to pay for his ticket and assured you that he’d have the school reimburse you for the expenses of the day’s activities.
The two of you wandered around the museum. To your delight, Sam seemed like he was enjoying himself immensely. He studied pieces for a long time and surprised you with facts about the artists. He’d seemed to figure out pretty quickly into his stay with you that you liked his built-in search function and would frequently tell you little tidbits of knowledge on any given subject matter.
You’d gotten lost in a Rembrant when you noticed that Sam wasn’t next to you anymore. For a split second, your heart skipped a beat. There was no telling how much trouble you’d be in if you lost him. But you found him almost immediately, to your relief. He was staring at a painting across the room, so you went to check on him.
“The Kiss,” he said as you approached, “By Francesco Hayez. Historians have a difficult time creating a timeline of his works as he wouldn’t often date his paintings and would frequently recreate them.” It was a beautiful piece, one you were familiar with. A couple stood as the sole subjects, embracing each other in a passionate kiss. A silhouette in the corner of the painting suggests they may have been secret lovers about to be caught. What always struck you was the detail in the woman’s dress, you felt as if you could reach out and touch the pale blue silk of the gown.
“I didn’t know that,” you replied. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. You finally asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“That love is very important to humans. 64% of the pieces in this gallery reference love in some way. And by my count, 72% of the attendees of the museum are romantically involved.”
“Do you always keep track of that kind of stuff?”
“Gathering data on my surroundings is just another sneeze,” he replied. Ever since he’d told you that scanning you was involuntary, that’s how he’d begun to explain his other processes to you, the ones he couldn’t turn off. He’d told you that humans need things to be contextualized at times and that’s why he liked the metaphor. You thought it was cute.
“Mm,” you hummed a response and looked back at the painting.
“I wish I was human, sometimes,” Sam said softly. That caught your attention. It had been something you’d been curious about for a while. “My new program makes me feel so much more. I never really felt such intense longing and… loss, for what I can’t have. But this painting makes me want to be in love, to feel the passion the couple feels.”
“Is it something you should talk with Dean about, maybe?”
Sam huffed, “Not everything is an error that needs fixing.”
“Not like that,” you said as you turned to him, “I mean for dating advice, if that’s something you want.”
Sam turned to you as well as he spoke. “I don’t think it would be allowed. It’s not within the parameters of my beta testing.”
“Well, I thought I was beta testing you,” you said as the wheels turned in your head and your heart rate increased to an almost alarming pace. Your cheeks were almost certainly flushed and you knew Sam was scanning you.
“Yeah,” he responded with a tone of uncertainty. You loved it when he couldn’t analyze you to figure out what you were going to say next.
“So, if I say that dating is within the parameters of your beta testing, then it is.”
“I’m not permitted to go off on my own though,” he sighed, “I’m not free to pursue a stranger and leave you to be with them for extended periods.”
“Then ask me on a date,” you said with as much confidence as you could muster, preparing yourself to have him laugh in your face and imminently alert Jo to your inappropriate advances.
Sam stood frozen, just staring at you, for so long that you were concerned he short circuited.
“It doesn’t have to be serious,” you explained quickly to the buffering android, “It can be for fun, so you can see what dating is like. Dates are supposed to be fun anyways.”
Sam’s only response was, “Can we start the date now? ”
The rest of the museum trip-turned-date went well. It was almost exactly like it had been previously, except that Sam insisted on holding your hand. In fact, it was the first thing he’d done once you told him the date could start right away. You recalled telling him earlier that people held hands on dates. The affectionate act didn’t bother you, but even if it had, he was grinning too much for you to say anything about it.
Next stop was the movie theater, which was thankfully a short walk from the museum. You had no idea what was in theaters at the moment, but it was the early afternoon, so there would be a matinee running.
You were right, thankfully. After you two arrived, you let Sam pick the movie. When he chose the action film, you wondered how much influence Dean and Ash had on his personality through his programming.
At the snack counter, Sam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Can I borrow some money?”
Laughing, you asked him, “Why do you need money?”
He pulled back slightly to smile down at you, “I did some reading on human dating practices on the way over, while you were telling me about your mother—”
You scoffed in mock offence, “So, you weren’t listening to my story?”
“I can do two things at once,” he replied cheekily, “The articles said the man should pay.”
“And you don’t have any money,” you concluded.
“The university will reimburse you.” He grinned wider as you fished through your purse and handed over your wallet.
Sam ordered you a popcorn and soda and insisted on carrying it into the theater for you. The two of you took your seats near the back and settled in to watch the trailers. Sam was glued to the screen. He’d told you that until he met you, he’d never been allowed to watch TV. His pop culture modules were programmed by feeding data into his system through updates. So he knew all about movies without ever having seen one. You’d fixed that right away with some classics one night, but nothing could beat the big screen.
Once the film started, you were happy to find that you enjoyed the plot. Action movies weren’t always your cup of tea, so you were glad you wouldn’t be bored out of your mind the whole time. It wasn’t often that you got time off like this from classes. You’d been having a wonderful time with Sam, but the film not being complete rubbish was a plus.
About half way through the movie, Sam faked a stretch and wrapped his arm around the back of your seat. You nearly passed out from trying not to laugh at a completely inappropriate volume. There were only a handful of other people scattered around the theater since it was a weekday matinee, but you still wanted to be polite.
“What was that little maneuver?” you asked as quietly as you could.
Sam leaned close and replied, “The internet said it was romantic and flirty.”
“I’m going to get you some updated reading material.” You wondered what kind of early 2000’s forums he could possibly be looking through to get his data.
“You could always teach me yourself,” he said, his voice low. You nearly choked on your breath. The way his nose just barely tickled your ear dared you to respond.
“You’re lucky I’m a good teacher then,” you whispered, moving his arm from around your chair. You guided it to lay on the arm rest before intertwining his fingers in yours and leaning on his shoulder. He was comfortable to rest against. Completely indistinguishable from any other man.
He didn’t move an inch for the rest of the film.
“Tell me again why you wanted to go to a bar?” you asked above the low hum of the room. You’d picked a quieter place, worried that a club might fry his system. The two of you had finished the movie and found a place an hour ago. Since then, you’d had a little over a drink and a half. They’d been a bit stronger than you expected, so you were pacing yourself. Sam had smuggled his coolant in and sneakily poured some in your first empty glass so he could “drink” with you.
“Because college guys go to bars,” he replied, “And going for drinks is one of the most popular first date choices.”
You eyed him for a moment as you swallowed a sip of your drink, then said, “You didn’t say you wanted this to be a date when you told me you wanted to go to a bar this morning.”
“I don’t tell you everything I want,” he scoffed in a faux mocking tone. It was striking in moments like that, when he seemed so human. Anyone else in the bar would only see the “college guy” he was trying to sell himself as.
“Tell me now,” you said, sliding your elbows onto the table to prop your chin in your hands. You looked up at Sam, and he back down at you. For a split second, you saw the same look in his eye that he had the first night, when he teased you in the hallway.
“My new update gave me a nervous system— or at least, the mechanical equivalent of one.”
His confession caught you off guard. You were expecting him to tell you something else he wanted to do, like a theme park or train ride. Briefly, you wondered if he felt the need to get that off his chest or if he wanted you to know that he could feel things.
“I don’t understand how that’s possible,” you replied, “How can you feel things the way I feel them?”
“Your nervous system uses electrical impulses to mine to send information about your senses to the brain. Instead of nerves, I have wires. Similar function on a different model,” he said as he shrugged and swirled his drink in his glass.
“You know what, Sammy?” You started as you sat up, “I think I’m a little too past tipsy to fully grasp how you work.” He laughed at that. Not for the first time, you wondered how your friends figured out how to make his voice sound so rich and human.
“We should get out of here,” Sam said, his voice still warm with laughter.
“I don’t think you fully grasp the implication of what you just said,” you said as you dropped some cash on the table and stood up from the small booth.
“I ‘grasp’ plenty,” he replied as he took your hand and led you through the crowd to the door. You were ever so slightly off balance as you followed him. In the back of your hazy mind, you wondered if he had a way to detect your blood alcohol content with his incessant scanning.
“Yeah? Like what?” you asked as the noise from the bar was left behind, making way for the low murmur of evening street noise in the city.
“I understand the implications of the end of a date. I understand that I’m about to take you home,” he said as he loomed over you. How had you forgotten just how tall he was?
“Mhm,” you hummed as you stared up into his eyes. Just then, you felt your back hit the brick wall of the bar. When had you started backing away and when had he followed you? Somehow, you’d found yourself trapped between his large frame and the building. You squeezed your thighs together to try and ignore the heat settling between them.
“And I understand that when humans end dates and take each other home, they have… intercourse.”
Smiling, but still buzzing, you asked, “Intercourse?”
“Well, I know I’m not allowed to say ‘fucking’. And based on how you reacted to the word ‘penis’, then I’m guessing that saying ‘sex’ is off the table too.”
Why did he have to stand so close when he spoke to you like this? It was doing funny things to your head.
“You can say it, I don’t care,” you whispered.
“You know,” he said with a devilish look on his face, “My hearing module isn’t turned off during stasis. I can still hear everything that’s being said around me.”
With your brain slowed by the drinks, it took you a moment to register why he was telling you that. Then, it dawned on you what you’d been talking to Jo about during his update.
Sam leaned down, close to your ear, and murmured, “Why were you asking Jo if I could have sex?”
Your thoughts stalled and your heart raced. It had been becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore your curiosity and attraction towards Sam. Over and over, you told yourself it wasn’t right. He wasn’t human. He was a project. He was too expensive to accidentally break. But when he pulled away just far enough to look back into your eyes, you were finding it very hard to care about any of that. As he stood before you, you saw a man, not a machine. As your thoughts fizzled in your head, he brought a hand to your face.
Gently, more tenderly than you’ve ever been touched, he grazed his fingers along your jaw. His eyes followed the path and he looked so focused, the same way he did when he was studying. Sam’s hand slowly traveled to your hair, running his fingers up the back of your head. It would be so easy for him to pull you forward and brush his lips against yours.
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
All at once, you blinked and Sam was a foot away from you.
“I’m sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he stuttered and repeated, “I’m sorry. I’m still in beta and—”
“Sam. Sammy, it’s okay,” you assured him. You didn’t know how helpful it would be to tell him that he made you feel just the opposite of uncomfortable. “I’m okay, really,” you said again.
He stared down at you with those familiar puppy dog eyes as he sputtered, “You’re intoxicated and I’m a— I mean, I’m not—”
Human. Your mind unhelpfully supplied.
“You’re my friend,” you said, “Now, let’s go home.”
The adrenaline had sobered you up a bit, but Sam didn’t need to know that. Instead of telling him that you felt okay to walk on your own, you silently held onto his arm when he offered it. And the two of you walked into the cool and quiet night together, arm in arm.
Jo had been happy to hear about the outing when she visited a few days later. You and Sam exchanged a look. Neither of you told her that it had been a date, of sorts. And neither of you told her what happened outside of the bar, nor had you spoken to each other about it since. It had been a dark cloud hanging over the two of you for the past several days.
You hated it.
Sam wasn’t acting like himself. He was too quiet and withdrawn. Whatever he sensed in you that night had caused him to pull back into his shell. It had only been a few weeks, but you’d quickly gotten spoiled by his round the clock company. You wanted your friend back.
Once Jo was finished visiting with you two, she left for the lab to continue her work, leaving you and Sam alone in your apartment once again. He’d been spending a lot of time in his room lately, so as soon as she was gone, he rose and started heading down the hall.
“I don’t care that you’re not human,” you blurted. Sam had turned the corner so you couldn’t see him, but his heavy footsteps stopped. You swallowed your nerves and continued, “I know what you are and I know what I am, but you didn’t make me uncomfortable the other night. I just wanted you to hear me say it.”
Slowly, the sound of footsteps neared the living room until Sam appeared again. He looked sad still, but less so than before.
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” he said, “I’ve never… My new social module for the additional research makes me feel a lot of things I’m unfamiliar with. You make me feel… a lot of things too. Until the bar, I’d never felt embarrassed or ashamed before.”
“You don’t have to feel that way around me,” you said, looking at him earnestly. For the first time since ‘the incident’, he smiled at you.
Right when things had finally gone back to normal with Sam, you found him reading in your living room one afternoon. Nothing would have seemed amiss if he hadn’t startled so strongly when you entered the room and tried to hide what he was reading.
“Hey!” Sam’s voice modulator glitched as he greeted you, a nervous tic of his, “What’s up?”
“What’re you reading?” you asked immediately.
“Nothing.”
“Sam.”
“Just a book.”
You sighed, “I know you’re reading a book. What book are you reading that you don’t want me to see?”
“Nothing,” he repeated. Right as he said it, he shifted a bit and it revealed the corner of the colorful cover.
Oh my god .
“Sammy, are you reading—”
“It was on the shelf, okay?” he huffed indignantly, “I’ve been here a while now and I’ve finally run out of law books so I started reading some of the fiction you had.”
“And you settled on that? ” you asked, unable to hide the smile from your face.
Sam grumbled and stood to leave. As he did, you accidentally glanced at his pants and yelped in surprise before clapping a hand over your eyes. There had been a distinct bulge in his jeans that you didn’t think was appropriate for you to be looking at.
Neither of you spoke. You stood frozen in the middle of the living room, too nervous to open your eyes. You didn’t hear Sam move again after he stood up. It was he who broke the silence.
“I apologize,” he said, always getting a bit more robotic when put on the spot, “It seems my… anatomical appendage is reacting to the stimuli of the novel. I did not consciously activate it.”
“Sam,” you breathed, gathering your strength, “Are you telling me you’re… hard because you’re reading a dirty book?”
“Yes,” he said in a strained tone, “I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t know either,” you said, eyes still covered.
He spoke slowly, “Maybe I’ll just go to my room.”
“Sounds good,” you replied as casually as possible.
You heard him shuffle past you, mumbling more apologies. You could smell his familiar clean scent mixed with the cologne Dean had dropped off for him. Dean was always bringing little things for Sam when he visited, but only the cologne drove you completely crazy.
As soon as the sound of his door clicking shut rang through your home, you let go of the breath you were holding and your arm fell to your side. Sam was gone, he took the book with him, funnily enough. Unfortunately, the image of Sam staring at you like a deer in the headlights with a raging hard on was seared into your brain. Before you could stop yourself, your mind wandered to what may have happened had you not covered your eyes.
You could always teach me yourself , his words echoed through your mind. He told you he could feel and you wanted him to feel you. You could show him—
No, no. Bad. Wrong. As impossible as it seemed, you had to find a way to get thoughts of Sam out of your head. You weren’t doing yourself any favors by indulging these fantasies. Just the night before, you’d let your mind wander as your hand snaked between your legs. You bit your tongue when you finished to keep quiet, not knowing how sensitive his sensors were to noise.
After standing in shock for a beat, you decided it was best to get yourself moving. If you kept busy, there wouldn’t be any time to think about what Sam might be doing in his bedroom. You grabbed a broom and tried your dead level best not to wonder if Sam’s voice modulator glitched when he touched himself.
Similar to the bar incident, the book incident wasn’t spoken about. If Sam had “taken care of” himself or had borrowed more smutty novels, he didn’t say and you didn’t ask. At the end of the day, he was your friend and you didn’t want to ruin that. Beyond that, you knew he wouldn’t be around forever. Best not to dwell on something you can’t have while Sam is still with you.
The two of you were going about your regular morning routine when there was a knock at the door. Sam volunteered to get it and found it was Jo.
“Hey kids,” she said with a smile as he let her in, “How are my favorite study participants?”
“Good,” Sam said with a smile. He glanced at you and there was something on his face you couldn’t quite read.
“Business as usual,” you responded as Sam watched you. For a split second, Jo looked between you two. Whatever she was thinking, she didn’t share it.
“Well, I dug up some more code for your social module, Sam,” she said, turning to him, “If you don’t mind, I could update you real quick.”
“Don’t see why not,” Sam responded, taking a seat at the kitchen counter.
“I’ve got that meeting with my professor,” you reminded him, “I’m gonna go ahead and walk over. So I’ll see you in an hour or two?”
“Gotcha,” he replied with a smile.
“I’ll see ya, Jo,” you said as Sam slipped into stasis. She had her usual focused face on as she tapped on Sam’s remote and wished you goodbye.
Your meeting went as expected. One of your favorite professors had offered to go over study material for the bar exam, which you appreciated. He gave you some good advice and information, which made you a bit more confident as the exam grew closer.
At one point, he mentioned how much better you’d been doing in class. You told him that it was the exchange student, Sam, that had been studying with you. Turns out, teaching a robot is a great way to test how well you’ve retained information.
All in all, it was a good meeting. On top of that, it was a really beautiful day so the walk across campus to and from your apartment was enjoyable. Unsurprisingly, you thought about Sam as you neared home. You’d have to ask him how his new update was treating him.
When you got back, you found Sam pacing back and forth in the living room. His gaze snapped to meet yours as you walked through the front door. There was almost a crazed look in his eye, his hair was tousled and his face flushed. You didn’t even know it was possible for him to turn red.
“Sammy, are you—”
“I’m going for a walk,” he blurted as he crossed the room with long strides. He moved past you and shut the door behind him. You didn’t try to follow.
Suddenly, you were analyzing every interaction from the day. There wasn’t anything that stood out to you. Sam had been waiting in the living room for you when you’d started the day. The two of you sat and had breakfast as usual, chatting about the schedule for the day. Then, your morning had been occupied with quiet studying until Jo arrived. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. The only thing you could think of was his update.
It was your turn to pace around, which you did for an hour before Sam came back, mindlessly tidying your apartment.
When he returned, bursting through the door, you were in the kitchen getting some water. You heard his heavy footsteps approaching, so you called to him.
“Sam? Is everything okay?”
All at once, he was on top of you, pinning you to the counter. His simulated breathing was heavy and his pupils were dilated, scanning every inch of your face. He didn’t speak at first, just stared at you like an animal.
“Sam?” you repeated quietly as his gaze remained locked on you, darkened by his short hair falling to frame his face.
He nearly growled his response through clenched teeth, “You don’t understand.”
“Tell me, then,” you said, tentatively placing a hand on his chest. The moment your palm touched his shirt, he squeezed his eyes shut and huffed, still bracing his arms on the counter behind you. Something was straining him, but you couldn’t figure out what.
“I need to— I want to…” he trailed off.
“Please?” you pushed.
Then, he brought his hands to hold your face and kissed you. It took your brain a moment to catch up with what was happening, that Sam was pressing an unmoving kiss to your lips. No sooner had this registered, his lips left yours, kissing your face and jaw and neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said in between peppering fiery kisses on your skin, “I’m so sorry.”
“Sam, stop apologizing,” you breathed in an airy voice, head spinning from the onslaught.
With no small amount of effort, you braced both hands on his chest to move him back so you could look at him. You weren’t forceful, you only wanted him to pause a moment to figure out what was going on, but he staggered back nonetheless. He wiped a hand over his face before raking his fingers through his hair. Both of your chests were heaving as you touched your fingertips to your lips.
“There’s something wrong with me— my programming,” he huffed between breaths. “I’m having a difficult time restraining myself.”
“From what?”
“From touching you. It’s the only thing in my mind. It's all I can think about. There has to be something wrong with the update Jo just gave me. Usually, it’s easier to put you out of my mind and get my work done. But ever since Jo came by, I just… can’t.”
You watched him as he shifted his weight and tried to avoid your gaze from across the kitchen.
“We shouldn’t,” you whispered.
“I know ,” Sam said on the verge of snapping, still grinding his teeth.
“But I want to.”
Sam’s eyes shot to look into yours as he froze his fidgeting across the room. All of a sudden, you were a deer in headlights. There was a hunger in his eyes that you’d never seen before, that he shouldn’t even be able to have.
“‘Want to’ what?” he asked, more serious than you’d seen him in a while.
“Let you touch me,” you replied without breaking his stare, “Touch you too.”
Faster than light, he was on you again, pulling you into him. His arms wrapped around you, as yours did him, clinging to you as if you were his anchor to life itself. Gone were the chaste pecks, Sam was kissing you like he wanted to devour you. Just like before, his lips quickly left yours, this time mouthing down your neck with wet, open kisses that sent heat directly between your legs. He touched you with a passion you’d never seen a man possess.
“Teach me, show me.”
Teach me how to be human , you heard.
You could feel that he was breathing, a sign his cooling system had kicked in. His breath was hot on your neck as he spoke between kisses and you briefly wondered if he would overheat. His hands slid down your body, leaving fire in their wake, down to your waist where he gripped you firmly.
Smiling, you huffed a laugh as you spoke, “You have the whole of human record at your fingertips.”
“I don’t want it,” he said, looking back to your eyes as he sank to his knees in front of you, holding your gaze the whole way down, “I want you to show me.” His hands trailed down your sides and stilled at the hem of your pants.
You exhaled a shuddering breath as you said, “Take them off.” Sam did as he was told, watching in near awe as he slowly revealed your legs. Leaning back against the counter, he helped you step out of them before pushing them away. He brushed his hands up your legs before grabbing at your thighs. For a moment he sat there, staring at your panties, gently massaging where his hands rested.
He brought his face close to your skin. You could feel his breath through the fabric of your panties as he leaned in and began to press kisses all over them, but never venturing between your legs. A gasping moan left your lips, making him pause to glance up at you with a heady look on his face.
Almost too slowly, he pulled your panties down your legs, gently guiding your legs slightly apart. With your weight on the counter, you let one hand wander to run fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes for a moment at the sensation. It dawned on you that no one’s ever touched him like this before. No one’s ever had him like this, on his knees. Or known he could even want this. He could want. And he wanted you.
You let your nails glide over his scalp before settling on a light grip in his hair. Sam’s eyes shot open, hungry again. Without asking for instruction this time, he dove between your legs, his mouth suddenly all over you. Crying out in sudden pleasure, you gripped his hair harder almost involuntarily.
And Sam moaned.
And when he moaned, his processors hummed, sending vibrations through his tongue.
He licked at your clit, making you lean further into the counter, hoping that would tether you to the earth. One of his hands gripped your leg, not quite hard enough to bruise, keeping you steady on your shaky legs. The other hand let fingers trail towards your entrance, dancing around as if you ask permission.
“ Please ,” you nearly cried, a more desperate echo of your earlier request. And slowly, Sam slid a finger into you. It was long and much thicker than yours. He played with that for a moment before adding a second finger, moving them slowly in and out of you as his tongue swirled against your clit. Almost experimentally, he curled them and you moaned louder, which he seemed to take as a clear signal to continue.
As his fingers fucked into you, he spoke against your skin, “Something in this update has taught the sensors on my tongue how to read samples. And you have a beautiful chemical makeup.”
Smiling as your breath grew heavier, you said, “No one’s ever told me that.”
“I’m sure everyone else only had boring comments about how good you taste.” You laughed but he continued, “How do I make you cum?”
You quit laughing as you somehow became even more aroused, not knowing how to tell him that question alone almost did the trick on its own.
“Your tongue,” you started as he resumed slowly licking at you, “Just focus on my clit— like that .” You sighed in pleasure as he laved at you, setting a pace you knew would make you come undone.
He continued as you began gasping his name, looking up at you to with blown pupils. The sight pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm coursed through you, making you moan in an effort not to scream.
As soon as you took in the first sharp breath of overstimulation, he pulled away. His face was wet with you all over. He smiled up at you, looking completely pleased with himself. You didn’t have it in you to have a smart remark about that.
“You’re loud,” he said as he stood and gently scooped you up in his arms, carrying you towards his room.
“Mhm,” you hummed as he laid you down, “In here?”
“If I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be on my bed,” he replied. You think, maybe, he wanted to feel like a man. Any other guy would do the same, take a girl to his room.
Suddenly giddy, you watched as he loomed over you, standing at the edge of the bed where you lay. He seemed focused as he pulled his shirt off before removing yours, discarding them both somewhere on the floor. It almost startled you to see that he looked like any other young, fit college guy. Sitting up, you moved his hands away from his belt and began to undo it yourself. He kicked off his pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers that were tented by his erection. Slowly, you pulled those down as well and his length sprang free.
“I’ve been assured it’s above average,” he said, almost nervously, “Ash said if I was gonna have one, it better be good.”
You breathed a laugh and said, “Don’t talk about Ash when we’re naked.”
“Noted,” he said as he slowly climbed onto the bed hovering over you as his eyes flitted across your face, “You really are so beautiful.”
You felt him line up at your entrance, but you stopped him by placing your hands on his chest.
“I know you’ve told me you can want things, but you do want this , right?” you asked almost sheepishly. It felt silly, but you had to be sure.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. You’ve been like a task I can’t dismiss, always pinging in my head. I didn’t really know what to do about it until my first update.”
“Okay then, do you need—” you were cut off by the feeling of him slowly sliding in and you gasped at the sensation.
“All of my skin is self lubricating, if I need it to be,” he answered the question you didn’t finish, “I’m a miracle of modern technology.” His voice sounded strained, crackling slightly as he spoke.
His eyes were squeezed shut and he rested his head on your shoulder. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you started to press into him a bit, to encourage him to move.
“Hold on, hold on, I’ve got to turn down the sensors or I’ll melt,” he huffed, not unkindly. You were excited and you felt it bubble over to a laugh. Sex with Sam was fun . There was no stress, no anxiety about whether or not you looked good. There was only enough room between the two of you for joy.
Without warning, he pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in. Sam started with slow, lazy strokes. You could feel him shifting around, finding the right angle. Suddenly, the pieces all fell into place as he found the exact right spot.
“ There ,” you gasped and you felt him smile against your neck as he began pounding into you. Pleasure coursed through you in tidal waves. For a moment, you felt like you may pass out.
Sam’s breath wasn’t heavy the same way a man’s would be. Instead, he wouldn’t stop talking as he fucked you, punctuating his words with each thrust. You’re so beautiful and you feel so good and I had no idea over and over again in your ear. It was driving you crazy.
You could feel the bundle of nerves in your gut growing tighter as Sam’s rhythm began to falter. Without warning, he reached down between the two of you and began circling your clit with his fingers. He propped himself up on his other arm to look at you.
“With me, please,” he murmured. And that was enough to push you over the edge. You cried out as you felt yourself pulsing around him as his hips stuttered against yours. Sam’s pupils were blown out, zoned in on you as he rode out his own high. For a long moment, he stayed inside you, just watching as you caught your breath. Then, slowly, he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed next to you. His chest didn’t heave like yours, but he smiled like you did.
“No way you knew how to do all that,” you said.
“Okay maybe I did a little research,” he admitted, rolling his head to meet your gaze. You decided you like post-sex Sam with his messy hair and lopsided smile. “Can we do that again?” he asked.
“Yeah, Sammy,” you breathed, “We can absolutely do that again.”
Suddenly, you heard your phone in the next room. Sam popped up immediately volunteering to get it so you could rest.
Cute , you thought as he returned, still stark naked as he offered you the phone. It was Jo. As you answered, you heard him say something about getting you water, ever the gentleman. It dawned on you then that there wouldn't be any mess to clean up.
“Hey,” you started. Before you could ask what was up, Jo began talking all at once.
She was out of breath as she spoke, like she was running, “I’m on my way to your place.”
“Jo, what’s wrong?”
“The update I gave Sam, it’s an old romance protocol I wrote for fun. I don’t even know how I mixed this up. I never fleshed it out so it’s full of bugs.”
You breathed a laugh, “Yeah, Jo, I got that far.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. What does the protocol do?”
Jo huffed, “Well, it was Dean’s idea to give him free will and desires or whatever. So, I’m concerned that this program might amplify his desires and make them a bit too uncontrollable for him.”
As she spoke, Sam reappeared in the doorway. He had a dark gaze, looking at you the same way he had in the kitchen. He stalked over to the bed, placing a glass of water on the nightstand for you.
“Just text me when you’re here,” you said as you hung up, not giving her time to respond. Sam was on top of you in an instant, kissing all over your body.
“How long until she gets here?” Sam asked between kisses, “You said we could go again.” You hadn’t thought he meant right then.
“15 minutes?” you responded breathlessly.
“Perfect,” he replied as he settled back between your legs, “I’ll be done in 10 so you can clean up.”
You thought about responding, but that idea left your head quickly as you felt his tongue on you once again.
And true to his word, he took you apart deliberately, with five minutes to spare.