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“So, you know how I’m going through my slutty phase right now?” Sid asks to the air. She’s kicked back in her gunner pod, as close to upside-down as these particular chairs will allow her to be, and she says it out loud, not over the gunner channel, where half the crew could be listening in. There’s only one person within earshot, and although she can’t quite see him from here, she can hear his grunt, like he’s shaking himself to attention, out of the comfortable silence they’ve been sitting in. The only sounds come from the hum of the ship, hurtling at faster-than-light through the black void of space, and though there’s nothing to shoot, Sid and Barry spend a lot of their time up here anyway when there’s nothing else to do. It’s a little place on this beautiful hotdog that’s theirs, private in a way even the bunks and bathrooms aren’t, given how communal crew space has to be, and much as Sid loves the little family their crew has turned out to be, it’s nice to sit with Barry, just the two of them, easy and comfortable in the silence.
“Right on,” he says, in answer to her statement.
His voice echoes a little across the metallic hall, curving around the high prow of the ship. Sid smiles, picturing him in his matching pod, probably stretched out not unlike her, his bulk sprawled comfortably in his own gunner chair. She kicks her feet idly, wheels spinning on her skates. “Well, I was thinking…”
She lets it hang in the air, like humans do, prompting questions. She must hang it a beat too long, though, make it sound like an uncertainty, because Barry’s voice comes back less casual, more thoughtful. “If you want to take some time, like shore leave or something, Marge’d probably okay it. Probably easier to bang Vercadians that aren’t actively shooting at us.”
Sid glances at her calendar, hanging neatly on one of the rivets alongside her station, next to her spare paper hats. Barry does have a point: they see Vercadians plenty, but like most proldiers, they have an unfortunate tendency to be on the business end of those blasters. And laser saws. And rotary cannons. And-
Well. It’s a valid point, to say the least. And Sid is making it a personal mission to bang as many Vercadians as she can. This is her slutty phase, after all, and she wants to enjoy it. Vercadians are big, brawny, and really know how to show a girl a good time. Gnosis might have given Sid her first orgasm, but a Vercadian can do it just fine if they’re linked in to her software just right, and she’s hooked up with more than a few since the Wurst became the hotshot proldiers they were always meant to be. There is one downside, though, and that’s what Sid’s thought had actually been about.
“I like the Vercadians,” she says carefully. She kicks her feet again, watching the roller skate wheels spin. “But actually, I was thinking. Most androids aren’t really built for this kind of thing. They don’t have the programming.”
“Huh.” Barry still sounds thoughtful. “That blows.”
“Or doesn’t,” Sid quips, and hears his snort. She smiles. She met Barry by his laugh, cycles ago now, when it had been a sad noise in a proldier bar, guffawing at something the bartender had said. She likes it a lot better now, richer and fuller, less weighed down by loss. She likes Barry happy. She likes making him feel good.
“There’s pleasure wires,” she says diplomatically. “And those are good. Most droids have ‘em, so they can respond to stimulus. You know: do a good job, feel a good thing. And you can hook them up and jury-rig it so it’s sexy, even if the droid in question isn’t supposed to have that protocol. But it’s pretty much all in your head, you know what I mean? It’s really just the companion droids that are built for it physically. A girl gets curious, is all.” None of the statements are wrong. Sid’s been curious, since she woke up in a lab at Handy Andi Corporation and a team of scientists explained to her exactly what kind of prototype she was supposed to be. She’s been even more curious since she escaped, hiding in dive bars and clubs, trying not to be too noticed, and by that measure noticing the other people trying not to be noticed. A lot of humans hook up in back corners and rec station alleys, and Sid’s seen and heard an awful lot. But she’s been the most curious these past few cycles, from the minute Barry laid out some skeezy guy who’d tried to nab her in that bar. Barry always has her back, has always watched her six, before and after they managed to convince the old Skipper for a place on this here hotdog. So yeah, a girl gets curious. Sid was made to be anything. She’s pretty sure one of those things is at least half in love with Big Barry Syx.
He hums thoughtfully, then offers, “So, you want to find an Erotica Ann or a Gigolo Joe, or what?”
Sid bites her lip. It’s a very human gesture, she feels, a very standard nervous response. That’s nice. Nerves are in her programming, a little, in some of the pleasure protocols – thanks to the combination of her majordomo programming, with the right keywords, she can do shy schoolgirl, blushing virgin, or anxious secretary (she can also do standard sexy secretary, “I won’t tell your wife” secretary, and “get on your knees you dirty little bitch” secretary. Sid’s not sure why humans have such a thing for their secretaries, but it feels like office buildings might be more dangerous than proldiering). She swivels a little in her gunner chair. “I wasn’t thinking that,” she says. “I was thinking more organic? Classically organic, I mean. It’s not just about having the parts and the programming. It’s about having, I don’t know. An ‘authentic’ experience.”
“Like, with a person?”
“Yeah.” A person you like. A person you’re in love with, ideally, and who also loves you, but Sid will settle for like. She doesn’t know how Barry feels, exactly, and she’s not looking to ruin a good thing.
He turns that over, quiet for a minute. “Huh. Cool.” Then: “You want me to wingman for you?”
In for a credit, as the people say. “Or you could fuck me.”
Silence rings out. It’s loud enough, Sid almost shoots off her gun, just to break through the deafening not-noise, though that’s a terrible idea in FTL. A tortoise scuttles past, racing along the water ducts, and like a flash, Aurora snakes after it, snarling and snapping and generally having a great time. She’s such a good girl, and she pauses when she catches sight of Sid, spines bristling, eyes lighting up green. She oscillates slightly. Sid waves her off, and she shakes, then goes back to chasing the tortoises.
When Sid turns, Barry is standing in the entryway of her gunner pod. She jolts upright, scrambling into a more dignified position in the chair. He’s leaning against the wall, not in full combat gear, just down to a light armor that makes his pecs pop, highlighting the less-literal guns he’s packing – though she knows he’s packing literal ones too – emphasized biceps and triceps and rippling delts. He crosses his arms, probably trying to be casual, although his expression is caught in a twist of ‘be cool, be cool’ mixed with ‘what the fuck?’
“Uh, run that by me one more time?” he says.
Synthetic heart thundering, Sid crosses her legs delicately, smoothing down her waitress skirt and apron. She sets her arms in her lap, careful to place the normal one on top of the gun arm, both for comfort reasons, but also because she remembers that review from the meeting that changed her life. No need to highlight unflattering parts of the merchandise. “You could fuck me,” she offers, fighting down the hopeful notes in her voice. Maybe she should silence that vocal protocol for a while. “I’d rather do it with someone I trust, and I figure, someone who already knows about all the—” she makes a little gesture that encompasses the eye, the arm, the roller skates “—is probably going to have an easier time of it, you know?”
Barry scoffs, and Sid’s circulatory fluids plummet deep into her gut. He shakes his head. “Sid, anyone who has a hard time with you is out of their damn mind.”
Oh. Oh. She flushes, preening a little. “Yeah?”
“Hell yeah. You’re, like, so fucking hot. The only hard time anyone should have with you is in the hard dick kind of way.”
Sid is an android. She’s programmed to enjoy pleasing people. And she is absolutely not immune to flattery. Especially from Barry. “You really think so?”
“I know so. Hard, wet, whatever; if it’s sexy, they should be it. With you.”
“Do I make you like that?”
Barry’s mouth snaps shut. “Uh.”
“It’s okay if I do. That’s kind of why I’m asking.” She started this, and he’s playing along. Maybe he means it in a friendly way, but there’s no harm in asking, is there? She and Barry have bounced back from lots of things. Usually external, but still. And she has to know.
“Oh.” Barry clears his throat. He shakes his hair back, leaning harder into the doorframe, and that casual note injects itself harder into his voice, so forced that Sid doesn’t even need to run interpretive protocols to notice. “Um, yeah,” he says. “Sometimes, yeah.”
Glutton for punishment, party of Sid. “Sometimes when?” she presses. If she tries really hard, she can pretend it’s like a survey, like they did during product testing. What functions turned you on? Which bits of programming worked the way they were supposed to? It doesn’t have to be about her-and-Barry. Not if he’s not thinking that. It’s just constructive feedback, pure and simple.
Barry shrugs, and though he doesn’t relax physically, his voice does ease up, taking the cue from her open expression. “Like, when we’re fighting,” he says, “and you chuck a grenade? And the explosion, just, fwhoom! Takes out everybody? Definitely some downstairs action—” he makes a vague, circular gesture towards his groin “—going on.”
“Oh.” That’s…not what she expected. She looks down at her gun arm, then back up at him, her non-cybernetic eye wide in surprise. “Really?”
Barry nods. “Or when we’re gunning, and you line up the shot just right, and then I, boom, nail it?” He mimes it, then shrugs. “Half chub, every time.”
Sid’s synthetic heart flutters. “Every time?”
“Every time.” He nods stoically again, just to send it home. “It’s honestly good that the armor has, like, room down there, because it’d be a really big problem otherwise. I honestly don’t know how everyone else deals with it. I mean, Skip’s basically in jeans. That’s gotta suck.”
She blinks, the near swoon her servers are blinking with cutting off at the matter-of-fact tone. “You think…everyone feels like that?” That can’t be right. Barry knows, he knows people don’t…doesn’t he?
Barry raises his eyebrows skeptically. “Sid. Come on. You’re cool as hell, and they built you to be sexy. I just assume everyone’s getting kind of boned up about it.”
Sid studies his expression, and comes to an astonishing, if highly flattering conclusion. He means it. Barry genuinely means that. She’s told him about the negative reviews, about the people from product testing who couldn’t keep it up when she touched them because of the weapons enhancements. He’s watched the old captain, before Skip and Skipper became a team and Skip made the guy halfway tolerable to be around, call Sid names, several of which were unflattering physically. And it’s not just that he thinks those are outliers: he thinks the norm, the baseline response to seeing her do things, is to get fully turned on. Sid is built to respond to pleasing people. In response to that? Something in her circuitry fully whites out.
She comes back to herself 2.07 seconds later, when the cooling fans kick on. She stares up at Barry, who doesn’t seem to realize that he’s just sent her through a pleasure-induced mini-reboot. He’s still kicking it against the wall, arms crossed across his chest, flexing like he’s a little self-conscious. “Okay,” she says slowly. “So, you get turned on when I fight-“
He shrugs. “I mean, it’s other times too. You’re in kind of a short skirt, so when you take turns really fast on the skates, or when you use the rocket boots, or when you do that sick jump to get up on Aurora-“
“You get turned on when I do things,” Sid amends. Mother Void, this will be the end of her. “Do you…just get turned on?”
“What, like, have I ever cum watching you do shit? Come on, Sid. You’re hot, but Barrys have way better stamina than that.”
“No, I mean.” She makes a subtle-not-subtle jerking hand motion. “Have you ever, I don’t know. ‘Taken care of it’?” That’s what the humans say, isn’t it? “Let me take care of it for you” is definitely in her companion droid programming, along with the other ones. Barry’s not human, exactly, but he’s got to catch her drift.
Barry hesitates. His expression turns guarded. Sid doesn’t know the misstep, exactly, but she straightens in her gunner chair anxiously.
Slowly, he asks, “Would it be weird if I had?”
Sid’s circuitry lights up. She’s programmed to be intuitive about these things, and that’s a yes, that’s gotta be a yes. He wants her. Barry wants her, and she doesn’t know if it’s the way she wants him, but it’s a good thing, right? Casually, she manages, “I don’t know. Do you think it’s weird?”
“Well, we’re friends. I’m pretty sure for some friends that’s weird.”
For some friends, for sure. But Barry is Barry and Sid is Sid. “I don’t think it’s weird,” she says. “For us, at least.”
“For real?”
She nods.
He nods back. “Okay. Yeah.”
“Yeah…?” She needs to hear it. She has to be sure.
“Yeah,” he repeats. “Sometimes I take care of it.”
“When?” The bunks aren’t private, and Sid doesn’t sleep, but she does stand in there sometimes for recharge. Sometimes she even lays down on a bunk, just for the decadent feeling of it. And sometimes, when she’s real lucky, Barry slaps the mattress beside himself, and Sid plasters herself to his side on the tiny cot, cuddling up and listening to him snore, her own whirring circuits falling into a matching rhythm. Other than the night terrors, she’s never gotten the sense that Barry does much of anything in the bunk room except sleep.
“In the shower, mostly,” he says. “Bathroom kind of generally, but there’s not a lot of privacy, and humans are kind of weird about you just jerking it in communal spaces, even if those are, like, private spaces too?” He flushes, just a little. “Sometimes, if it’s more than half chub, I’ll mute the gunner channel and take care of it in the pod.” Quickly, he adds, “Just if it’s really bad, though. So I can focus.”
Barry has muted the channel, possibly mid-fight, to jerk off thinking about Sid. Sid’s pleasure wires are going to be all kinds of crossed for the rest of forever. “Okay,” she says. She adjusts the hem of her skirt again, straightening the pleats. “So, is that a yes?”
“Yes to what?”
“To fucking me.” Stars, but if he doesn’t say yes, Sid’s going to throw a fit. A private fit, but a right damn tantrum of a fit nonetheless.
Barry blinks. Finally, he says, “You’re not fucking with me, right?” He glances around. “Barry isn’t about to jump out and start laughing, is he? Because that’s kind of fucked up.”
“Not fucking with you,” Sid says. “I promise.” She makes a little sign, like the Galactic Girl Guides, though she’s unsure why it’s used for promises when the Girl Guides are notorious liars and thieves. Also, Sid never was one, on account of being an android and all. But it feels alright to do.
“You really want me to fuck you?” Barry asks. He shakes his head. “Why? I’m just a guy, Sid. I don’t even know if I can get you off. It’s not like I can get plugged in to your network to give you orgasms. I’ve just got my body.”
It is a very good body, Sid thinks privately. And it belongs to Barry. He makes her feel amazing just by talking, and she’s damn near cum from that just in this conversation. Or close enough, at least. She wets her lips, exhaling softly. “It’s not about getting me off. I’m okay if I don’t cum from this. I just…want to try it. It’s like you said. We don’t run into a lot of Vercadians, and most of them don’t have the synth skin.” Some of them don’t even have fingers, or mouths, or anything Sid can do much of anything with without getting pretty creative. Humping a twelve-foot-tall Vercadian to completion is hot as hell, but the variety does leave something to be desired. She hesitates. “If you don’t want to do it-“
“No, I want to do it,” Barry says immediately, and her synthetic heart does another synthetic skip. Maybe she should check if some systems are malfunctioning. Maybe it’s just that ‘half in love’ thing. “But if we’re doing it for you, I don’t want to go at it like it’s just to get my dick wet, you know? I want to make sure you’re getting something out of it.”
Is she losing him? She can’t tell. She casts about for something to reassure him, falling back on the one thing she feels confident about. “If you’re worried, you can always invite Barry.”
He straightens, looking surprised. Sid shrugs, feeling her artificial muscles tense. “You said you used to do everything together, right?” Sid’s not sure what counts as everything, but Barry’s opinions on jerking off in public spaces does give her at least an idea of what the Battalion used to get up to. “If you’re worried about me having enough going on, two Barrys could be better than one.”
“Two Barrys are better than one,” he echoes. “You’re sure?” Based on his tone, Sid can tell he’s purely asking if she’s into it. His arousal markers are spiking all over the place. Sid’s always noted how similar the markers are to times when he’s in the Zone, not usually going right in, but responses he gets sometimes in the thick of battle. She may have to reevaluate those readings now, given today’s revelations.
“I’m sure,” she says. “Whether he’s moral support or if you want him in there—” she makes another obscene gesture, this one more complicated, enough to turn Barry’s cheeks beet red “—that’s fine by me.” She means it, too. She’s an android, and even if she’s a keeper, she has the Warfare Whitneys now, and she gets it, instinctually, the funny little line for androids between individuality and collective identity. She knows it’s not all that different for clones: her Barry, Barry Syx, and his clone brother aren’t the same person. They’re similar people, but not quite the same. She’s not in love, half or otherwise, with Barry Nyne. But she likes Nyne, and this is her slutty phase, so if what it takes to get her dicked down by the Barry she does want is participation from the Barry she just wants to get friendly with? She doesn’t mind that in the least.
Barry clears his throat, and his scruffy cheeks are fully red. His circulatory system must be working overtime to push that much blood through his large body. “Cool,” he says, and there’s a thickness to his voice that Sid realizes are pure arousal markers. Her eyes flick down, scanning heat signatures. Oh. Okay. The armor really does do him some favors. He coughs, “I’ll, uh, ask him. If he’s cool with it, then yeah. We can do that for you.”
“Swell.”
He nods, and then beats a hasty retreat. Curious, Sid opens the gunner channel, checking the muted user settings, watching Barry’s flip from off to on. Well then. That’s enough to make a girl feel real good about herself, and Sid beams to no one in particular as little lights of satisfaction skate through her pleasure protocol in reaction.
Then a thought flashes through her, a kill switch dousing her in ice-cold coolant fluids. She scrambles to her feet, and whizzes down the hall. She has to find Barry Nyne.
***
“So that’s about the shape of it,” she finishes, straddling the bench outside the communal showers, watching Nyne rub a towel through his hair. He’s obviously post-workout, shucking on a pair of long grey pants unabashedly, pulling a white tank top over his head. He’s got all the same metaphorical guns as his clone brother, and Sid takes a second to appreciate them before she snaps back to business. She bites her lip. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this, it’s just…it sounded like maybe he actually didn’t want to do it, and he was just humoring me? I really like him, and I really want this, but I don’t want him to feel like he has to, you know?”
“Barry’s an idiot,” Nyne says bluntly. He wraps the towel around his neck, tugging on it with both hands. It makes his forearms flex in a way Sid catalogues privately for later. “You don’t have to be a genius to see how fucking hard up he is for you, Sid, and not just in the ‘get his rocks off’ kind of way. His heart’s absolutely nutting for you, and anyone with half a brain can tell.”
“I couldn’t.”
Nyne raises his eyebrows, and she amends, “Well, I wasn’t really looking. We’re just such good friends, and I didn’t want to ruin that.” She squeezes her hands together anxiously. “I haven’t ruined it, have I?”
“He said yes, didn’t he?”
“Well, yeah.”
“There you go.”
She huffs. “But it’s not the same. I laid it all out there, and I had to invite you along just to get him to agree. Maybe he likes me in, like, a sexy sharing way, but that doesn’t mean he wants the rest.” She’s admitted the half-in-love thing to Nyne, even before this. Mostly because Nyne had dropped into a chair opposite her in the mess hall half a nargon into his time on the Wurst, crossed his arms, and asked, “So. My brother. You got a crush on him, or what?” Sid had been too startled to lie.
Nyne snorts. “Trust me, he wants the rest. If I have to keep seeing him make those dopey heart eyes at you all day, I’ll fucking snap. Put him in a headlock until he just fucking says it.”
Barrys wrestling…no, focus. Sid shakes herself. She doesn’t want to hope too hard, but Mother Void, she’d kill for Nyne to be right. “So, what now?”
“Well, he wants you. You want him. And you got him to agree to the fucking you part of it, which, score. Barrys are great at that.”
“Yeah?” Sid teases. She twirls a lock of her ponytail coyly around one finger. Nyne’s easy to flirt with, mostly because she doesn’t really mean it, and she thinks he can tell. “Y’all have much experience with fuckin’?”
“Eh.” He smirks at her and makes a so-so gesture. “Lot of jacking off, mostly. Side effect of the hormones and shit; Barrys are horny a lot. But the Battalion was pretty popular, so there were plenty of people who wanted a piece of us. We mostly didn’t fuck ‘em, since we were running from guys with guns a lot, but we fucked some, and the reviews were pretty rave.”
“I’ll bet.” She should check some reddit boards, now that she thinks about it. There might be actual reviews. Group sex with a bunch of hunky humanitarian clone marines? That’s not the kind of thing people hide on the internet. That’s the kind of thing people plaster pictures of all over their socials. And if any of them take Margaret’s approach to reddit, Sid could be in for a treat.
Nyne regards her, taking the towel from his neck and giving his spikey purple hair one last good rub before tossing it into the laundry chute. “You know, if Barry’s already agreed to fuck you, you really don’t need me involved. He’s definitely a fucking sap, but he’s got stamina and he obvious wants you, so he’ll for sure take you for a great ride. I know you told him moral support, but honestly, I can actually just do that if you think it’ll help him get shit done.” He pauses. “Unless…he’s not wrong, about the pleasure coding and shit. If a dude can make you cum, he’ll do it, but I guess it’s possible-“
“It’s not about that,” Sid says. She meant it; she’s fine if she doesn’t cum from this. And she’s fairly certain she will, if the excited flush creeping through her every time she thinks about it is any indication. “Barry…he’s sweet, and thoughtful, and I love that, but also…” She looks around, as if anyone were with them in the completely empty bathroom to hear it, and lowers her voice. “Supposedly he’s been jacking off to me for rigons, and not doing jack shit about it? Forgive a girl for thinking he needs some encouragement.” She bites her lip, raising her perfectly manicured eyebrows meaningfully. “Maybe someone to show him how it’s done?”
Nyne nods sagely, the kind of look Sid is used to seeing from Miss Margaret, or from Barry before a thoughtful, ‘Right on.’ “We’ll get you that dick, Sid,” he says, the most serious oath in his voice Sid’s ever heard. “And I’ll make sure my brother gets his head out of his ass while he does it.”
“You can also fuck me, if you want,” Sid says. She clarifies. “I’d genuinely be down for it. That’s part of why I offered; I am going through my slutty phase, after all. So I am looking to take a lot of dicks, just kind of in general.”
Nyne smirks. “Right on.” He stretches, folding his arms behind his head, and treating Sid to another delicious view of his chiseled abs. “Two dicks, and Syx’s sappy, idiot heart. Let’s make it happen.”
Sid stands, sticking out her hand to shake. Nyne grabs it, squeezes, and gives it one firm pump down.
***
They make a game plan. Well, technically, they make two. Barry comes to Sid and tells her that Nyne’s on board, that they can get the party started whenever she gives the word. Sid tells him that shore leave wasn’t that bad a suggestion. There aren’t a lot of places three people can get down on a ship their size; at least, not outside of the private Jib Jobber spaces or Miss Margaret’s apartment, none of which are really viable options. They get the okay to get dropped on a little nowhere moon, with the assurance that the ship will be back in a malton unit – “Maybe two,” Margaret says, “if we run into any trouble. But if you need some R&R, that’s absolutely cool. We don’t want to hot exit you in the middle of that.”
Sid thanks her for her consideration, giddy two-fold: the reasons are good enough as-is, but Sid’s never had the luxury of a vacation before. Margaret suggests a five-star hotel, but Sid and the Barrys exchange a look without words. The place they actually check into has two stars, multiple reviews about gunshot complaints and fistfights at the bar, and one of the seediest guys Sid’s ever seen signing them in at the front desk. It’s perfect, exactly their kind of digs. Nyne brains Barry in the face with his overnight bag, smirking and flipping him a room key. “We’ll be up in a ‘bec,” he tells him. “Give you a martron to not blow your load when Sid takes her top off.”
There’s a brief moment of scuffle, Sid biting back her grin at the roughhousing, before Barry snatches the bag from his clone brother, flipping him off as he makes for the room. Nyne turns to Sid, raising his eyebrows. “You good for this?”
“I’m ready. Product testing, right?”
“Product testing,” Nyne echoes. He gives her a long look, shoving his hands into his pockets, thumbs sticking out. “You say the word, and we’ll change it up, yeah? However you want this to go.”
Sid smiles gently at him, shrugging. “This is how I want it to go. But I’ll let you know.”
“Because Barry’ll kick my ass if I actually upset you.”
“I’ll kick your ass myself if you actually upset me.” She shoulder-checks him, although all it does is skid her a few feet away on her skates. “I was made to do anything, and I want to do this right.” It’s personal. Proof that she’s not a design flaw. She’s the Swiss Army Wife, and that makes her something exceptional. She can do it all. And it doesn’t hurt, with how protective Barry is of her, for Nyne to be a little harsh, a little too clinical and objectifying. It might shake him up enough to make a proper move.
“Alright,” Nyne says, raising his hands. He nods towards the stairs, where the probably-ancient bulbs are flickering menacingly. “Let’s head up, before Syx thinks you changed your mind about this.”
“Let’s.”
She loops her arm through his, and Nyne laughs, baring his teeth as he tugs her along, scooping her up over his shoulder at the stairs, carrying her fireman-style up the requisite two flights to the second floor. Sid squeals, squirming in his grip, and he smacks her ass playfully, prompting an only-mildly indignant “hey!” She wouldn’t mind him doing it again, actually, but she still blushes and wiggles, trying to get her skirt back to a decent position. There’s no one else in the stairwell, but Sid doesn’t need to be giving front-desk guy a free show if he turns on any seedy camera network. They’re incredibly hot and incredibly famous. If anyone’s taking pictures, they’re damn well going to pay for them.
Nyne deposits her when they reach the landing, smirking as he waits for her to smooth herself out. She sticks her tongue out at him and he laughs, hip-checking the door to hold it open for her. “After you.”
They find the room easily enough, one of a dozen on this floor, each labeled with rusting metal number plates. Sid hasn’t been in a lot of hotels, but this one is probably the filthiest. The carpet looks like it hasn’t been vacuumed since the beginning of AnarchEra. The door unlocks with a beep of their spare card, and Nyne shoulders his way into the room automatically, a flanking posture that puts him between Sid and any threats that might jump out. Unnecessary, but a habit. The Barrys flank like breathing, and Sid is happy to get in on that action.
She skates around him, beaming at Barry. He’s tossed the bags onto the one chair, standing awkwardly by the sprawling king-sized bed as he waited for them to catch up. The mattress looks like it’ll fit three of them, just about. They won’t need the extra space, Sid thinks. Less space is the goal. She skates to a stop just in front of him, tilting her head back a little. “You ready for this?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that question,” he tells her. His fingers flex by his side, like he’s thinking of reaching out. Disappointingly, he keeps his hands to himself. “But yeah. I’m good if you are.”
Nyne kicks the door closed behind him, flipping the code to Do Not Disturb. “She’s good,” he says brusquely, kicking off his boots and unlatching the blaster holsters crisscrossing his body. None of them are in armor, and Sid’s not carrying half the grenades she usually does, but none of them are dumb enough to walk around unarmed in AnarchEra, especially not in a place like this. He unsnaps the button on his pants, but leaves them on, teasing Sid with just a flash of hair at the opening, the flop of his purple mohawk falling across his face as he cocks his head in challenge. “What d’you think, Sid? You wanna get on the bed, or you want us to put you there?”
The statement is casual, but all of Sid’s programming flips on, lighting up synapses and turning her body electric. “Oh, put me there, please,” she teases, and Nyne gives her another feral grin, crossing the room in three long strides to grab her at the waist, hauling her up with one strong arm and tossing her, hard enough that she bounces when she hits the mattress. She scrambles upright, but Nyne grabs her by the ankle, just above the roller skate, and gives her a sharp tug, hard enough to knock her back to elbows and knees as he circles the bed to stand behind her. He looks across the room at Barry, standing frozen in what Sid’s reading as shock.
“Well?” he says. “You coming or what?”
Barry startles, and his steps are halting, unsteady as he drops his weapons, crossing to the opposite side of the bed, where Sid can watch him without craning her neck back. She gives him a smile of encouragement, and his return smile is thin, uncertainty in his eyes. Nyne winds a hand around her long red ponytail, but he doesn’t pull hard, just using it as a guide as he nudges her into the position he wants, placing a hand on the small of her back to make her arch it, maneuvering her into a pose where she’s braced up on her palm, the gun arm flat against the mattress beneath her. He grunts in approval. “Pretty picture, Sid.”
She preens. “I do my best.” Already, heat is coiling in her systems, excitement pulsing in her core as the requisite programs activate. She feels the first few dabs of wetness start to pool, collecting under her skirt, and she looks back over her shoulder at Nyne. “You wanna take my panties off? I’m gonna start ruining them pretty soon.”
Barry bites back a sound that hits Sid deep in the pleasure sensors, and Nyne smirks at her. He grips her thigh, yanking her knees farther apart, and skates his fingers up the outside of her leg to hook into the thin band of her underwear. “What d’you think, bro? Rip ‘em off her, or leave them on?” He skims his fingers along the lacey line of them, down the front where Barry can see, dipping possessively between her legs. Sid inhales sharply as he probes her folds through the thin fabric, soaking up even more of her wetness.
“Don’t- don’t rip them,” Barry says. “But definitely take them off.”
“You want a taste?”
Barry looks caught out, and Sid bites back a groan as Nyne uses two fingers to pull the crotch of her panties down, working them over the generous swell of her ass in a slow, teasing drag. He takes hold of one of her ankles again, peeling the damp fabric over first one roller skate, then the other, and Sid can’t hold back the startled moan of surprise as he balls the panties in his fist, pressing them to his nose with a long, slow inhale. He licks his lips, then holds them out. “Smells even better from here.”
With a shaking hand, Barry takes the panties from him, pressing them to his face, his breath shuddering as he covers his nose and mouth with the fabric, practically inhaling the lace. “She smells so fucking good.” He looks down at her, pupils blown, eyes desperate. “You smell so fucking good, Sid. You’re turned on as fuck.”
Sid moans her agreement, feeling the wetness spill down her thighs, her folds plumping with artificial blood, puffy and swollen as the extra sensors there activate, pulsing with the need to be touched. She can change her scent, technically, manually altering the chemical composition her body puts out in lieu of pheromones to better appeal to her consumer, but that Barry is this affected by her defaults? It takes everything in her not to suggest he get a good whiff straight from the source. With the heavy metals she’s made of, she’s liable to break Barry’s nose if he lets her ride his face.
Nyne takes the opportunity, while Barry’s basically licking her panties, to palm her ass, groping her idly. Her eyes flick to him, and he gives her a nonverbal check, eyebrow quirking like the cues they give each other on the battlefield. She nods, and his face smooths out again, lips ticking up as he flips her skirt up, baring her ass. He whistles low, drawing Barry’s attention. “Look at her. All those pleasure processers must be working overtime to get her this wet.” He grips one of her cheeks with a meaty hand, pulling it aside for a better look. His free hand presses between her legs, fingers spreading to part her slick, aching folds, giving him an unopposed view of her pussy. He whistles again. “They built you right, didn’t they, Sid? Barely been touched and you’re already gagging for a fat cock to dick you down.”
“Warm and wet in there,” she promises. “All ready for you.” She wiggles her hips back enticingly, though her eyes flick to Barry. He hasn’t touched her once, staring down at her with a deep, restrained hunger. The front of his pants give a little twitch as he starts to rise, and Sid swallows reflexively, a sudden ache on her tongue.
Nyne hums skeptically, and Sid squeaks as he abruptly shoves two fingers into her, crooking them and tugging her back. He gives them an experimental pump, scissoring them apart, but the sound he makes is dissatisfied in a way that sparks warning in Sid’s system, fear flaring in her gut automatically, even though she knows the score. “Hmm,” he grunts, expression twisting. He looks up at Barry. “I don’t know. She feel ready to you?”
Sid’s breath catches as Barry’s mouth falls open, startling his gaze away from Sid’s face and exposed cunt. “Uh…what?”
Nyne jerks his head down, thick digits stilling inside Sid’s tight channel. “Stick a couple fingers in her. She says she’s ready, but I don’t think she’s wet enough yet.”
Barry’s eyes flick back to her face, checking in. For her part, Sid has to fight the urge to just fuck herself back on Nyne’s fingers. He’s not even moving them, just holding her casually, calloused finger pads digging into a synthetic pleasure censor uncaringly, like her cunt’s just the trigger guard for an orgasm gun. She locks eyes, holding Barry’s gaze, and when she speaks, she pushes a fluttery, breathy vocal tic right to the front of her programming. “I think you should check,” she tells him. “Maybe…it feels ready, but I don’t usually get to- I’m not sure how everything works.” It’s a half-lie; Sid knows her body, knows all her programming pretty intimately, even if she really doesn’t get to use it all that much. But play isn’t a lie, not really. She’s encouraging him, that’s all. Barry’s thoughtful. He’ll want to check.
As predicted, Barry swallows hard, scooting forward until his thighs touch the side of the mattress, placing his built torso tempting inches from Sid’s head. Cautiously, he reaches under her, and Sid inhales sharply as he probes between her folds, his fingers swiping back and forth until he finds her entrance, still held open by Nyne’s broad hand. He sucks in a breath. “She feels pretty wet, bro.” He gives another slow, careful slide, like he’s testing the slickness, and his voice is less answer, more enamored as he says, “She’s fucking soaked.”
And ain’t that the truth; Sid can feel slick leaking down her thighs, dripping onto the comforter beneath her. It’ll be a bitch to clean up, less because of the fluid – every part of her is built for convenience – and more because roller skates do not make bending over to strip a bed easy. But that’s mostly a problem for room service, not them, and all Sid has to worry about is staying put, her weight braced on her gun and her knees, her roller skates hovering over empty air as Nyne keeps her held up. She gulps, raising her head to look up at Barry, and bites her lip, voice stuttering intentionally as she says, “You should check inside, though.” She swallows, trying to control herself enough to be sexy, enticing: to sound desperate enough, but not too much. “You don’t want to fuck my thighs, right? You want to get all cozy up in there, really squeeze that dick into my nice, wet cunt.”
Barry looks dumbstruck. “Uh-“
Abort, abort. “I mean, you can fuck my thighs if you want to!” she backtracks quickly. “I can get off on that, I think. I was just hoping- I mean, I don’t get the equipment that often, so-“
“No, I can fuck you,” Barry says quickly, cutting off Sid’s panic at the source. “For sure, I can fuck you.” Nyne snorts, and he whips his head up, “Dude, shut up!”
“You shut up!” Nyne shoots back. He grabs Sid’s hair again, this time pulling hard enough to yank her back, upright on her knees, so that only the tip of her gun digs into the mattress. She yelps as it changes the angle of his fingers inside her, driving them hard into a pleasure sensor as he snaps, “Stick your fingers in her cunt and see if she’s wet enough for your dick!”
“Okay!” And Sid chokes as he jams a finger up inside her, shoving in hard beside Nyne’s. It’s a little too rough, and if Sid weren’t an android it would probably burn, but her sensors aren’t really built to feel that, unless she turns them on, so it just feels sudden and sharp and a little too tight. His hand gentles instantly. “Sorry, sorry-“
“No, it’s fine!” Sid manages. She has to bite back a keen as Barry twists carefully, shuffling towards her so he can cup her pussy, the bulk of his palm covering her bare mound as he gives a slow, experimental pump of the digit inside her. Her skirt’s fallen back down with the change in position, and she grips the fabric desperately, rucking it up so she can see what they’re doing to her cunt, the obscene stretch of fingers inside her from the front and behind.
“Dude,” Barry breathes, and Sid cannot tell if he’s talking to her or his clone brother. She barely has the wherewithal to care. “Fuck, Sid-“
“Think she can take you?” Nyne says. He twists his fingers, and Sid gasps, high-pitched and loud. A fresh gush of wetness surges through her, and she drops her head, panting. Her cooling fans won’t kick in, and she feels lightheaded, speared two ways on three fingers. Nyne gives another tug back, in counterpoint to Barry, and Sid feels it pull her open, stretching her around the digits even as it drags her back hard enough to bring her hips to the edge of the bed, the backs of her thighs pressing close to the front of Nyne’s. He looks to his brother for confirmation, “I know she’s built to pack it in, but Barrys are pretty fucking big.”
There’s something delicious, Sid thinks, about being talked about like a toy. Or, not a toy, but a product; exactly as she’d hoped – exactly as she’d asked – there’s something in Nyne’s tone that reminders her of scientists and labs and functionality tests, just a little detached for all that he’s got his fingers inside her and a hard dick pressing into the back of one thigh. Sid is her own droid, but she is a droid. She doesn’t see any shame in it. She was built to do anything – to be anything – but one of the things she was especially built for is this. And there’s a pleasure in hearing it in that tone of voice: Nyne isn’t just acknowledging that she should be good at this, but confirming that she is. It’s something none of the product testers did, a failing most of them considered in her design. But Nyne’s erection is digging into her leg and Barry’s is tenting his thin under-armor pants inches away from her face, both of them twitching and pulsing through the fabric as they share her between them like a toy, and that’s proof that she’s been built right.
“I think she could be a little wetter,” Barry admits, glancing down like he’s afraid of offending Sid by saying so. “And we should probably stretch her out more.” He hesitates, “You good with that, Sid?”
“Yes, please,” she moans politely. She’s still aware there’s a game going on, even if Barry doesn’t know it, but most of her sense of it is lost in how good it feels, not just using her programming, but getting to put her whole body into it, triggering all the sensitive pressure sensors she’d been built with and barely gotten to use.
Nyne snorts out a laugh, shoving his fingers in deeper, all the way to the knuckle, with a sopping wet squelch. She whines needily, and he teases, “They built you a great pussy, Sid. Feels fucking real.”
“Better than real,” Barry murmurs. He feeds her a second finger – fourth overall – pressing in gingerly and pumping much more slowly than his brother. The pads trace her walls, digging gently into the give of her silicone flesh. “You’re so fucking soft, Sid, such a great pussy. I can’t wait to stick my dick in it.”
Sid moans, back arching happily into the sensation. She doesn’t get this with Vercadians. At least, not the ones she’s had so far. She spreads her knees wider, slipping across the slick bedspread. “I really want you to,” she pants, clenching down as they stretch her apart. “I want your dick so bad.”
“Fuck,” Barry groans. The hand not busy driving Sid wild flashes in the edge of her vision, shoving down the front of his pants. His fist makes an obscene bulge against the fabric, and he gives himself a few quick jerks like that, blurting enough precum that Sid can smell it, even though her olfactory sensors probably aren’t half as good as Barry’s natural sense of smell. It must be leaking like a sieve from his tip; the front of his pants are damp with it, forming a wet patch that has Sid’s mouth watering, synthetic saliva bubbling up under her tongue.
Miraculously, Nyne seems to almost read her mind, reaching out to smack his brother. “You heard her. She wants your dick.”
“But-“
“Dude, take your fucking dick out and let her suck it. I’ll get her ready.”
Barry looks down, and Sid’s mouth gapes open and shut in a few attempts to speak. Something must have disconnected her vocal programming, because all she manages is another, “Please,” groaning as Barry scrambles to dislodge his fingers from her, unsnapping the button on his pants and shoving them down for her. He gets a hand on his base, angling himself out, and Sid has a moment to really appreciate how pretty his dick is – fat, angry red, thick and long and just a little curved with a leaking, pulsing head spilling fat globs of precum all down the shaft – before he’s offering himself up for her and Nyne shoves her head forward, giving her just enough time to open her mouth as the tip of him lands on her tongue. She moans, wrapping her lips around it and sucking hard, working her tongue firmly under the glans. Barry gasps, hips snapping forward, and Sid feels him hit the back of her throat before he scrambles back. She nearly cries, first in protest, then in relief when he doesn’t pull all the way out, just cups her face and feeds her a couple inches, her jaw stretched wide around him as he humps shallowly into her face. “That’s so good,” he groans. “Fuck, Sid, you’re awesome, feels so good.”
His voice is thick with lust, barely restrained, and Sid moans around him to give him a vibrating effect, pushing her lips as far down the shaft as he’ll let her go, the tip of him kissing the tight ring of her throat muscles. She swallows, and he swears. “Fuck, can I-“
“She’s fucking built for this, dude,” Nyne says. “Shove your dick down her throat and have her choke on it.” He accompanies the words with four fingers jammed into Sid’s pussy, spreading her wide again as he tears her open, stretching her out for the fat cock invading her mouth. “She doesn’t need to breathe, so just go for it.”
“Sid-“ Barry tries to check. Sid is over it. She flails out with her hand, trusting Nyne to hold her up, and grabs Barry’s hip, pulling him with android strength towards her. It snaps his hips forward, driving his cock into the ring of her throat, blocking her airway as she disconnects all breathing functions and her gag reflex. She swallows, throat muscles constricting and rippling, and Barry makes a sound like he’s been punched, his hands going tight in her red hair, slamming himself in to the root, forcing her nose into the thick curls at the base of his shaft as he holds her down. Just for flavor, Sid half-activates the choking reflex, gagging hard around him, and relishes the way he makes a sound to match, humping desperately into the tight ripples of her synthetic esophagus. “Oh that’s- fuck, Sid, your fucking mouth-“ He ruts, rubbing himself in, and Sid works her tongue as best she can along the shaft, unable to be dexterous with how forced open her jaw is but doing her best to make this the best thing he’s ever felt. There are only two points of sensation in her body: Barry cock plowing her mouth and the four – no, fuck, five – fingers stretching her tight pussy as Nyne gets both hands on her, working her that last little bit open.
“You gonna cum down her throat?” Nyne goads. “You think you can get it up again fast enough to beat me to her pussy?”
“Fuck you,” Barry’s voice is broken, most of the harshness lost in how he pants, clearly unable to stop fucking into the wet channel Sid has made for him. “She fucking asked me, I get dibs.” His hips stutter, and Sid can feel him hardening on her tongue that last bit, palm on the back of her head to keep her down. “Fuck, I’m gonna-“
Sid swallows, hard, and Barry swears, his cock jerking as he pumps what feels like buckets of cum down her throat, his hips screwing desperately to work every drop out. Sid moans, taking it eagerly, feeling it spill down into her system, incinerating in the furnace inside her. He gasps, panting, and she feels him pulse weakly a few more times before his hand lightens on her, easing her off him. She flips her breathing systems back on, a decadent rush of cool air as she gasps, beaming up at him. A few dribbles of cum spill over her lips, and she wipes them off with the back of her hand. She’s a mess, her hair mostly out of its ponytail, her breasts almost spilling out of the lacing of her dress with the rough fucking of her mouth, and she has to be making an absolute puddle of the comforter beneath her as Nyne stills his fingers but doesn’t draw them out, holding her open as Barry catches his breath.
He sits down on the mattress hard, knees shaking as he steadies himself on the edge of the bed. The amount of satisfaction that sends through Sid is almost better than the fucking; he looks completely wrung out, spent cock twitching between his legs as he looks over at her, eyes flicking down at her almost-exposed chest before flashing back to her face. He swallows hard. “Uh-“
“Better than Pleasure Putty, right?” Sid says. Her vocal modulations are all off, her voice rough from the fucking as the cords realign themselves. “It feels like you came real hard.”
“So fucking hard, Sid,” Barry promises. He runs a hand back through his sweaty hair. “That was, uh-“
“She liked it,” Nyne tells him, and Sid can hear the eye roll even without looking. “She got fucking tight as hell on my fingers for it, it’s a fucking miracle I could get her open.” He puts on knee on the bed, nudging Sid forward a little to make room. “For real, you want first go, or do you mind if I give it a test flight for you?” He rolls his hips casually against the back of Sid’s thigh, and she shudders as she feels his hard cock dig into the meat of her ass. “Feels like you might need a martron, and it’d be a fucking shame to waste good pussy.”
“Dude, she’s a person,” Barry says. “Fucking ask her.” The annoyance in his tone, even colored as it is by the obvious pleasure still working through him, heats something fuzzy in Sid, and she bites back a sappy smile.
“It’s alright,” she says. “Whatever you decide, I’m happy with.”
“You sure?” He looks at her, propping his leg up on the bed so he can turn in fully without craning around. She nods, and he looks to Nyne. “It, uh. Might be a ‘bec. So if you really want, go for it.”
“You sure?” Nyne asks him, and something in Sid preens a little at him talking over her, checking in with Barry too. “I know how bad you want her.”
“Yeah, but she’s not going anywhere, right Sid?” He gives her a smile that melts her insides, stroking her hair gently. “Nuts and bolts, right?”
“Nuts and bolts,” she echoes happily. “Heavy on the nuts.”
Nyne snorts, but his hands are much gentler as he eases his fingers out and flips her onto her back, encouraging her to stretch out along the mattress. Barry scoots up against the headboard, giving her space, and Sid tips her head back to beam up at him as Nyne gets situated between her spread thighs. “He’s just keeping the pilot’s seat warm for you,” she tells him. “You just tell me when you’re ready, and we’ll get you in too.”
He strokes her hair, pulling it away from her cybernetic eye. “Trust me, it won’t take long.” He wraps a gentle fist around his cock, giving it a slow pull, and Sid can already see it twitching in response, even as Barry shivers at the stimulation. “You’re sexy as hell, Sid. I wanna see you take that cock.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He bites his lip, and Sid inhales as she feels Nyne line himself up, rubbing the head through her folds before sinking in with a groan. He’s thick, and Sid feels her body trying to tighten instinctively. She’s well-stretched, but it’s part of her programming to make a perfect, tight sleeve for whatever cock is in her. She grips Barry’s hand, hard, and he squeezes back, holding her tight as Nyne pushes in, in, in, the massive length of him seating deep inside her as he bottoms out. “That’s awesome,” Barry murmurs, sounding breathless and awestruck. “Taking him so well, Sid. How’s it feel?”
“Real good,” Sid pants. She closes her eyes, head tilting back as she bites her lip, back arching. Her cunt seals tight, clamping down in a perfect, snug fit around Nyne’s cock. “He’s real big.”
“You like big?”
I like you, she doesn’t say. She nods, eye still scrunched tight, and feels hands on her thighs, Nyne holding her open as he starts to fuck in and out with a long groan, easy strokes that work her up and down his cock. Behind her, she can hear the wet slap of Barry jacking himself back to hardness, matching his clone brother’s pace, and she whimpers, clenching down enticingly. One of Nyne’s hands leaves her, and Sid startles as he pushes her gun arm up over her head, holding her down like that as he works himself into her in firm, steady pumps. Her eyes flutter open, and she realizes with a start that Barry is biting his lip, eyes fixed on where her gun is pinned inches from his leg. Reflexively, she checks the safeties, but they’re all off, as they should be.
She swallows hard. “Do you…I mean. This is okay, right?”
“What?”
She nods towards her gun, and Barry blinks, then shakes his head. “Come on, Sid. You know.”
Her heart swells. She feels entirely too soft, considering she’s still getting fucked by a fat cock. “You like it?”
“Honestly? Your throat was great, and I really want to try your cunt, but, you know. I don’t know if it’ll fit, but…maybe, if it’s okay with you…maybe sometime I could try to-“ He blushes hard, and Sid’s eyes flare wide.
“You wanna fuck my gun?”
Barry groans, and his cock jerks hard in his fist, chubbing up so fast it looks painful. “I’m not that much bigger than a grenade. It might fit.”
Sid’s pleasure protocol breaks. She’s designed for so many things, but there’s nothing in her coding to prepare her for this. She chokes, feeling something crash hard over her, gasping as electricity short-circuits her neurons, her body bowing hard, arching up and crashing hard back onto the bed as something surges in her, squeezing her cunt down so hard on Nyne’s cock that he swears, hips smacking hard into her ass as he drills into the clench. She slumps back, panting. “Oh.”
“Sorry if that’s fucked up, I just-“
“Next time,” Sid says, her voice sharp and frantic. “Next time, please absolutely fuck my gun.”
Barry swears, hips jerking up into his hand. “Sid-“
“You wanna get in there, or you want Barry to come first?”
“I can’t-“ he looks frantically to his brother, almost apologetic. “I don’t wanna wait, I fucking-“
Nyne pulls out with a groan, flipping Sid around again so he can present her, cunt-first, to Barry. “Fucking get in there, it’s so fucking good.”
“Fuck.” Barry rears up, fumbling forward, and Sid cries out as he slams home desperately, sheathing her on his throbbing cock. He pants, gasping in relief. “Mother Void, you’re tight. Fits like a fucking glove.”
She clenches for him, biting back a keen, and Barry groans in response, hunching over her as he gives a tentative thrust. Sid’s skates slide uselessly over the bed, unable to get purchase, and Nyne surges forward, pinning her ankles down for her. She stammers gratefully, shoving her hips back as Barry starts to rut into her, hips pumping hard as he grabs her around the waist, slamming her down on his cock with every rough thrust.
“Make her cum, asshole,” Nyne pants, staring rapturously at the place where Barry’s cock is drilling Sid’s pussy, stretching her open. “You’ve already got yours, fucking make her cum before you blow your load again in that tight fucking pussy.” His cock bobs in Sid’s face, still hard, and she surges up, rewarding him by getting her mouth on the underside as best she can, sucking and licking frantically, and Nyne groans, bucking down to slide against her lips. He doesn’t try to fuck her mouth, just ruts right there, smearing precum across her face as Sid moans eagerly. Barry takes the command to heart, fumbling one hand off her waist to grind against her clit, and Sid yelps in surprise as a hot wave flashes through her neurons, instinctively sending her body clenching hard on the fat cock wrecking in and out of her pussy.
“Come on, Sid,” Barry coaxes. “We’ll get you there, just tell me what to do.”
“Just like that,” she gasps, rutting her hips down into his hand. Mother Void, it’s incredible, the dual sensations sparking like fire through Sid’s circuitry. She’s close, she thinks, so fucking close, flashes of white behind her eyes that her vision centers can’t process, everything in her body getting tighter and tighter, clamping down as her artificial muscles brace for impact.
“You’re so fucking good, Sid,” Barry pants. “You’re fucking perfect, love you so much-“
Sid sobs, feeling her body pulse. Everything goes red and then white and then nothing, her mouth open on a silent scream as orgasm tears through her. She falls, backup programs flaring to life, and distantly she hears Barry go, “Oh, fuck, Sid-“ and feels him cumming too, slamming deep into her rippling cunt and holding there, choking with the effort as she milks a second, agonizing orgasm out of his throbbing cock. She floats, as if in space, and hears Nyne grunt, feels something wet hit her cheek. She grins, letting her chest heave and her body go lax, letting things shut down just enough to feel the absence, not to enough to fully reboot. She lays decadently in that feeling, until gentle fingers cup her cheeks.
She opens her eyes. Barry’s holding her, dark shaggy hair falling across his sweat-damp face, dark brown eyes full of concern. She cups her hand over his, stroking her fingers over the back of his knuckles. “I love you too.”
He blinks. “What?”
“She said she loves you too,” Nyne snorts, and Sid cranes to see him reclined comfortably against the pillows, his arms folded behind his head. “Idiot.”
“Dude, shut the fuck up.” He looks back at Sid, expression guarded. “Um-“
“I do,” she tells him earnestly. Slowly, her body aching deliciously, she pushes herself upright, cross-legged, biting her lip as the motion makes something pulse in her now-empty, though admittedly still dripping cunt. Oh, he’s going to be leaking out of her for martrons. Maybe marbecs. She squeezes his hand. “I love you. I didn’t want to say anything, ‘cause we’re so good together, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”
“Sid, how- you’re perfect. You could never…” He looks at Nyne. “Did you know about this?”
“Bro, you kill-shot turtles for her. You help feed her insane dog. She lets you call her Barry so you feel like it’s not just the two of us anymore. I’d have to be blind and deaf to not know about this.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Nyne snorts. He stands, wandering over to the bathroom, and chucks a towel at the bed. It hits Barry in the face. “I’m gonna take a shower. Sid, honestly? Great fuck. You ever want an extra cock for this shit, feel free to hit me up.” He closes the door behind him, and Sid grins at Barry.
She takes the towel from him and starts wiping herself down. Barry watches her, and after a moment, she stills, suddenly self-conscious. “What?”
“You came, right?”
“Yeah,” Sid says simply. “I came.” She knew she would. She’s built to enjoy other people’s pleasure. With Barry, it feels a lot less fucked up to think about.
“Cool.” He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the bed. Then: “Are you going to keep fucking Vercadians?”
Sid blinks. She hadn’t really thought about that. Her immediate goal had been Barry. “I don’t know. Do you want me to stop?”
“I guess that kind of depends? Is this, like, a boyfriend/girlfriend thing, or is this kind of just ‘friends who love each other but also we fuck’?”
“I’d like to be your girlfriend,” Sid says honestly. Probably a little early to bring up the Swiss Army Wife thing. Also, she’ll have to double-check marriage laws about clones and androids. Maybe Skip can marry them? Riva helped with the last one, but Riva isn’t here anymore, so…
“Oh, cool.” Barry nods to himself, looking pleased. He runs a hand back through his hair. “Then, as your boyfriend, I want you to do whatever you want. You kind of had a sick goal going, fucking as many Vercadians as possible. And honestly, it seems pretty hot.”
“Yeah?” Sid bites her lip teasingly. “You wanna watch sometime?”
“I’d love that.”
Sid hesitates. Then, carefully, she cups Barry’s face with her free hand – not a hand. A gun. She leans in, and for the first time, she kisses him. Barry groans, gripping the back of her neck, and kisses back. He breaks it first, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re so fucking sexy, Sid. You gotta be careful, or you’re going to get me going again.”
Sid blushes, circulating fluids heating her cheeks for that perfect, rosy glow. “If you do, I can take care of that.”
Barry’s soft curse is everything to her, the protocols flashing that she’s done right. She’s done her job. It feels good. She tugs him in for another kiss, and between his impressive lung capacity, and her lack of need for oxygen, neither of them surface for air for a long, long time.