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“–absolutely ridiculous, completely impractical, reckless, irresponsible—”
“Enough of that.”
Torse waved a hand at himself. “Your mattress is ruined.”
Maxwell glanced only briefly at the halo of spikes protruding from Torse’s back, which had now punctured several large holes into Max’s bed. Errant feathers swirled around his cabin on the Zephyr as he scooted closer to boyfriend on top of the blankets. “It’s not ruined,” he reasoned. “It’s…customized.”
Torse made a noise that sounded similar to his vocalizations, but was too low and rumbling to be understood.
“Come on, Torse. I insist.” Maxwell sized up Torse’s massive body lying next to him, trying to figure out how he was going to cuddle with the hulking frame. “After the day we’ve had…” Max trailed off, and then sighed. He felt weighed down by the day’s events; the ever-compounding tragedies, and the unexpected violence. He was exhausted. And a little bit shaken. He needed rest, and he needed comfort — specifically, the comfort of the crewmate with whom he had forged an unconventional but very significant bond. “Please stay,” Maxwell asked, his voice barely clinging to his usual formal tone.
Torse seemed to settle into place a bit more. The lights of his eyes shined right into Maxwell’s. “Of course, Maxwell.”
Max smiled. “Good,” he said, and began reaching his limbs across Torse’s body.
Torse made various confused noises as Maxwell assumed some sort of position. He ended up with his torso draped across the glowing iron chest, and one leg hooked in between Torse’s legs. He laid his head into a groove on Torse’s bulky collarbone. Despite the fact that Torse’s frame was mostly angular and completely rigid, Maxwell found a natural curve that supported his body. It took some shifting around, but he managed to find a spot for all his limbs, and get comfortable enough to sleep.
Once in place, he gave a satisfied sigh. In the darkened room, with Torse by his side, his body was eager to shut down and submit to sleep. “That’s better. Will you put your arm around me?”
“Like this?” Torse asked, and lifted up the arm behind Maxwell to lay it gently over his back.
“That’sss perfect…”
“Your heart rate is decreasing.”
“Mmm. ‘m comfortable. I‘m falling asleep.”
And Maxwell nearly did, until it occurred to him to wonder whether Torse felt the same.
He lifted his head just slightly, fighting off the grogginess. “If there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable, please tell me.”
“I do not understand.”
“You know, like… Comfort. Good feelings.”
“Hmm…” As Torse thought for a moment, Maxwell traced his fingers along his iron ribs in arbitrary patterns. “My central processing chamber.”
“Your chest.”
“Yes. I have…some sensory capabilities. Inside of it.”
“You mean like…” Maxwell wondered, as he snaked one of his hands underneath Torse’s ribs and started to prod at the machinery inside. He tried to imagine it was somehow like having Torse’s hand on his back. He reached his second hand inside as well, settling each of them in loose fists around bundles of rubbery cords. “Is this alright?”
Torse’s voicebox let out a long, low hum that buzzed pleasantly in Max’s ears. “Yes. That is very good,” Torse said, and then hugged Maxwell a little tighter. “Please. Sleep, my friend.”
“Way ahead of you,” Maxwell answered with a yawn. “Good night, Torse.”
“Good night Maxwell.”
And Maxwell fell asleep with Torse’s sweet, electronic voice still echoing in his head.
Maxwell stirred slowly in the morning. His mind was foggy as his body woke up, legs stretching, back arching, hips shifting. He was pleased to realize, as his eyes fluttered open, that Torse was still with him, their bodies still tangled together in bed.
“Mmmph,” He hummed, blinking his eyes open slowly to look up at Torse’s face. “Good morning.”
At first, Torse’s voice seemed to have disappeared, as all that came out of his voicebox was electronic, staticky noise. But after a second or two, words joined the other sounds of his body. “Good morning, Maxwell,” Torse answered.
“Thank you for staying. With me.” Max retracted his hands and then stretched upward to press a kiss against Torse’s face. He usually aimed near the bottom of the smooth metal plate, favoring one side of the sharp ridge in the middle. He kissed the same place a few times, until the vents where Torse’s cheeks would be spouted a spray of steam.
“I hope your quality of sleep was not impacted by my presence.”
“Of course not,” Maxwell said jovially, though he still sounded quite sleepy. His body felt rested and warm all over. “You’re actually very comfortable.”
Torse’s cheek-vents glowed a bit red. “Good. You- I- I- I—”
Max quickly grew concerned at the unfamiliar, stuttery sound of Torse’s voice. “Torse?”
Max looked him up and down, quickly noticing something strange. One of Torse’s hands was laid flat on the bed, unmoving, except for the very noticeable tremor that seemed to be affecting him from the wrist down.
“Torse! Are you alright?” He asked, looking up at Torse’s face with concern.
“Yes, Max-Maxwell. I am aware of th-this abnormal condition. I promise it is no c-cause for concern.”
“Oh,” Maxwell sighed. That took the edge off his panic, but he in no way let go of his concern. He held on tight to Torse as he kept looking him up and down. “Well, what’s going on?”
“My systems are reacting to abnormal levels of sensory input.”
Maxwell struggled to shake off the morning bleariness. “What… What does that mean?”
“Prolonged exposure to…you…for an extended period of time seems to have overloaded my sensory apparatuses.”
“Oh!” Maxwell was taken aback. “Are- Are you in pain? Uncomfortable?”
“No, Maxwell. Quite the opposite. It’s…rather not unlike the condition you are currently in.”
He squinted in confusion. “What do you mean? What condition?”
“You’re, um… I noticed irregularities in the pattern of your heart rate, and blood circulation.”
“Blood…what?” Max mumbled, and, in frustration, gave himself a once-over. “Oh!” He exclaimed, quickly realizing what Torse was referring to, as he looked down at the thickness of his half-erect dick pressing into Torse’s boxy thigh. Everything began to click in his mind, and Max reframed the imagined catastrophe in his head into something more familiar.
“Right. I understand,” Maxwell said, looking back up at Torse’s face. All of his emotions were spinning up into fervent curiosity. “Morning glory. No big deal.”
“I promise, I will be back to n-normal soon, once you have left me and my systems can reset—”
“Leave you?” Max interrupted. “I’m not leaving you like this.”
“I assure you, that is the best c-course of action in order for me to regain my f-full c-capabilities.”
“I don’t care about your capabilities,” Maxwell said, as he dug his hands back inside of Torse’s chest. “I just want you to feel good.”
Torse’s machinery buzzed and whirred faster, sounding like a mechanical groan. “ZzzZzz. Maxwell–”
Max reached deeper.
“ZzzzzZZZ!”
Though delighted as he was at how responsive Torse was, Max paused for a moment then, glancing again at the hand laid on the bed. It was still trembling. “Torse, my friend.”
“Zzzyes?”
“Do you want me to stop?” Max asked, gently retracting one of his hands. “If you are uncomfortable, I will not continue.”
“I am not uncomfortable,” Torse answered quickly, and then went quiet.
Maxwell waited a moment. He didn’t sense any hesitation from Torse. Torse’s cheeks were glowing pink-hot, and his eyes flickered just briefly downward when they weren’t staring intently at Max’s face. If Maxwell had to guess, it seemed like Torse didn’t know what to say. And Maxwell completely understood the feeling of not being able to ask for what you want.
He reached his free hand up to cradle the side of Torse’s face, gazing up into the bright yellow lights.
Maxwell wasn’t good with words. He’d never been. Maybe if he was, he could explain how happy he was to have met Torse. How grateful he was for their friendship. And how stupidly lucky he was that Torse even had these kinds of feelings. He could explain the many years he’d spent in deep confusion over his own sexuality, and how to express it. How his heart broke to think of the millenia Torse had lived, feeling broken and alone. How deeply he longed to give Torse a different experience. How badly he wanted to hold Torse and never let him go.
But he wasn’t good with words. So all he said was, “Torse, I want to touch you.”
Torse groaned.
“Do you want me to–”
“Yes, please, Maxwell.”
Filled with a rush of affection, Max couldn’t help but surge upward and plant his lips on Torse’s face in a hasty kiss. Torse shifted the arm wrapped around Maxwell’s back, sliding his hand upward to hold him closer.
“Fuck, you’re so– This is gonna be so good, I promise. Help me with these,” Max asked, starting to shimmy out of his clothes. Torse obliged, though the help he provided was mostly tearing and shredding; Maxwell was far too horny to worry about another ruined pair of pants anyways.
With clothes removed, Max eagerly pressed his bare body up against Torse, and cursed under his breath at the sensual feeling it evoked. It seemed as though Torses’s entire metal frame had heated up overnight, and everywhere Max touched felt smooth and inviting to his bare skin. He panted excitedly as he hiked his leg up over Torse’s pelvis and dug his hands back inside the mechanical chest. He felt awoken to a primal feeling as his body acclimated to the comfort of Torse, an intense desire to get closer and closer, to chase the feeling as deep as it would go. He moaned something pathetic as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Torse’s shoulder.
“Maxwell?”
“You’re– hot. I mean, you’re so warm,” Maxwell mumbled, feeling sweat starting to bead on his forehead.
Max wrapped his fingers around some cords in Torse’s chest that he knew would make him–
“ZzzZZT!”
Maxwell smiled and undulated his body against Torse. There was a hot desire burning inside of him, and he was ravenous for it. For Torse.
Max was surprised when a certain angle of his hips suddenly found a smooth and inviting surface for him to grind against. He glanced down at the smooth panel between Torse’s legs. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he found the groove again, eagerly chasing the pleasing pressure on his cock. Maxwell cursed and shifted his legs to brace across Torse’s segmented limbs.
“You are experiencing increased levels of sexual pleasure. I can tell.”
“Oh yeah,” Maxwell answered enthusiastically. “Yes, definitely, you– Fuck, Torse, you feel so good,” He moaned, as rutted recklessly against Torse's chassis. His fists squeezed tighter around the warm inner workings, and Torse’s own buzzy version of a moan echoed loudly in Max’s ears.
It was so easy, as Maxwell was draped across Torse’s body, to bask in the heat radiating off of his boyfriend and grind mindlessly into the grooves of his frame. As he chased the pursuit of pleasure, Maxwell turned his attention to the glowing chest beneath him. The gaps between iron ribs allowed him to see the machinery inside as he worked his fingers in and played with the parts. He wasn't sure what would make Torse feel good, but he tried it all, starting with the thick metal pieces near the surface and moving inward towards the more fragile pieces connected to his heart.
Maxwell felt so drawn to it, the heart, even though he knew it was just a machine– Though, he supposed absentmindedly that human hearts were just as utilitarian, and it was only through metaphor and poetry that they ascribed so much meaning to blood-pumping organs. Actually, for all that Torse had been through with his hearts, it almost seemed more appropriate to deem his heart the location of his soul, even more so than humans. But — maybe that wasn't quite how Torse saw it? Gah!
Maxwell was not a man of science. All he knew was that, when he looked at the heart, he knew it was important. He wanted to protect it. He wanted to touch it. Like a siren’s song, he headed right for it, eagerly sliding his fingers over all its junctures and gaskets – and he was rewarded with a very enthusiastic response from Torse.
“Maxwell,” Torse said, and somehow his voice sounded strained.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. I feel good. T-too good.”
Maxwell grinned. “That's very good to hear, Torse.”
“It is becoming difficult to analyze my sensory input data as thoroughly as I would prefer.” Some clicks and buzzes sounded that, after a moment, Max realized reminded him of clearing his throat. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, Torse, very much so.”
“Should I…contribute? More?”
“Oh,” Maxwell breathed. “Sure, yes. You can grab my ass.”
“Okay.” Torse followed that easily, sliding his hand down to cup Maxwell’s cheek comfortably.
“And look at me.”
“...Look at you?”
“Yes. Look in my eyes.”
“For intimacy,” Torse posited.
“Exactly.”
Maxwell felt Torse's light-eyes focus on him, locking into place with more-than-human accuracy.
Maxwell moved slow, massaging his fingertips into Torse’s heart as he rolled his hips down. He found a rhythm, pushing energy up through his hips and into Torse’s chest. In the cresting of the motions, Max could feel Torse’s hand tighten, and hear the humming of his metallic voice.
Maxwell felt completely enthralled, locked in on the tasks at hand. Like he’d jumped from height, and now all there was left to do was fall. His body rocking against Torse, his hands kneading generously at his parts. Mouth hanging open as he panted and stared into Torse’s eyes. The sounds of Torse’s whirring moans getting louder, while Maxwell groaned gratuitously. Torse drew Maxwell inward as he pressed and pushed himself as close as he could get, the lines between meat and machine blurring as the metal frame wrapped tighter around Maxwell’s body.
“Torse,” Maxwell whined, his voice pitching higher as his orgasm drew near. His bones shuddered as he thrust hard against Torse’s unforgiving exoskeleton.
“Maxwell.”
“Mmph. Say my name again.”
“Mmmaxwell…” Torse repeated, his voice deep, growling, and slowed to a molasses pace.
Something about the sweet sound of Torse’s voice, laden so heavy with emotion even as it rang from an electric box – that was what drove Maxwell right over the edge. “Oh–” He gasped as his hips rocked against Torse’s. The feelings overwhelmed him, and his fists clenched haphazardly around free cords. With his orgasm cresting, Maxwell rutted hard and fast into the clutch of Torse’s body. He whimpered as he thrusted, his words having devolved into random noise that mirrored the sporadic hums and whirs of Torse’s machinery. He didn’t break eye contact with Torse; he watched the golden glow shine brighter and brighter.
Maxwell kept on rutting until his cock was spent and Torse’s body was slick with his seed. The rush of adrenaline and pleasure calmed down, and Max slumped down breathlessly, sprawled across Torse’s ribs. His breath formed clouds of condensation on Torse’s metal panels as he panted, tirelessly catching his breath.
Once his breathing was steady, he set himself back to the task of Torse’s chest.
“Maxwell? What are you doing?”
“Returning the favor.”
“I don’t know that I– Oh-zzzt!” Torse made a surprised noise as Maxwell got his fingers around the iron heart again.
Though it took rather limited physicality, Maxwell approached it like one of his matches, using a simple philosophy: find the weak points and exploit them ruthlessly. The machinery was completely foreign to Maxwell, but the noises Torse was making were easy enough to interpret. So many eager whirrs and buzzes, constantly multiplying and getting louder. Just once or twice Torse interrupted him with an “ow” and Maxwell learned the few spots to avoid.
Once Maxwell found a rhythm, it wasn’t difficult to keep on riling him up and up, watching the erratic movements of his eyes, feeling the excited rumbling of his body. Glancing down at the bed, Maxwell watched as the tremor in Torse’s hand grew stronger and stronger – until suddenly, it stopped all at once.
Maxwell watched every joint and juncture in Torse’s body extend all at the same time, getting jostled as he lay atop him. The frantic, overlapping buzzes quickly deescalated themselves until only a low, pleasant hum remained.
Maxwell grinned as he looked on, still panting from the exertion, amazed at the dramatic change to Torse’s demeanor. The golden light of his eyes now pulsed slowly and steadily.
“Torse?”
“Yessss. Maxwell.”
Maxwell chuckled to himself at the satisfied tone to his voice. “I take it you enjoyed yourself— Woah!”
Maxwell shouted as Torse suddenly grabbed hold of him and hugged him tight. Maxwell was squished into his chassis as Torse rolled back and forth.
Then, Torse suddenly released him, and Maxwell nearly slid right off the side of him — but Torse took hold of Max’s shoulders (a lot gentler this time) and held him close. He leaned his faceplate forward until it pressed against Maxwell’s forehead.
Maxwell exhaled happily, reaching up to hold Torse’s face and leaning into it eagerly. He kissed him again, pressing his lips repeatedly to the smooth, warm faceplate, feeling caught in an affectionate fancy as he was surrounded by warmth and pleasure.
“Mmmm,” Torse hummed, sounding pleased. “My Maxwell,” he sighed, as his arms wrapped lazily around Max’s back.
“I’m yours,” Maxwell answered, as he softly stroked the ridge of Torse’s machinery chest. He was still feasting on the highs of pleasure, both receiving and giving. “That was awesome.” He’d been confident that he could make something work between them, but Maxwell was blown away by how naturally it happened.
“I am amazed,” Torse said. “I never imagined you would be able to feel such pleasure with me. With my body.”
“Your body is amazing,” Maxwell remarked, pressing a kiss to Torse’s collarbone. “You’re amazing. I’m so glad I got to make you feel good.”
Torse hummed softly.
They were both quiet for a minute, resting in each other’s arms. Max kept trailing his fingertips over Torse’s sharp corners as the sweat dried on his brow. He listened contentedly to ambient robot noises, until Torse broke the silence.
“I feel…”
When Torse trailed off, Maxwell glanced up at him, looking into his eyes. He waited patiently.
“Happy. Very, very happy. I don't know how to describe it.”
“That's okay,” Maxwell mused. “That's–” love, he stopped himself from saying.
His mind reeled, as Maxwell was suddenly confronted with the depth of his feelings for Torse. He stared up into Torse’s eyes — bright, incandescent lights that stared back at him from a long visor strip — and Maxwell had to reckon with just how strange this all was. Being aboard a strange flying ship, sailing across a strange secret world, bedding a strange mythical being that wasn't even human.
In spite of all that, Maxwell couldn't deny that his feelings for Torse were genuine and true. And he didn’t regret any of the decisions that he’d made that got him to this point. This was the life he wanted. The life he chose. He’d chosen adventure. He’d chosen Zood. And he’d chosen to pursue Torse, over and over, not giving up on the Aganti – even when Torse had given up on himself.
He wanted to keep choosing Torse. Today, tomorrow, and every day to come.
“That’s love,” Maxwell said confidently. “I feel…exactly the same. I love you, Torse.”
“Oh, I… I love you too, Maxwell.”
Torse pushed his head forward, and Maxwell happily met him in the middle. Forehead. Nose. Lips. Clinging so tightly to Torse, Maxwell kissed him again and again in near-delirium until Torse’s cheeks grew warm and dewy.
Maxwell pulled back and looked into Torse’s eyes. Torse was sliding a hand up and down his back, and Max smiled, feeling happier than he’d felt in a long time. Or maybe ever.
Forever, he thought to himself.
“I want to stay here forever,” Maxwell mumbled.
Suddenly, a shrill whistle sound rang out in the hallway. A loud, tremorous banging on Maxwell’s door startled him so much that it finally did send him tumbling off the side of Torse’s body.
Bam bam bam! “Gotch!” Van’s voice boomed through the closed door.
Maxwell struggled and swam on the slightly-ruined bed, trying to right himself. Torse leaned over to check on him.
“Gotch, up and at ‘em!”
“I– I’m coming!”
“Maxwell, are you okay?” Torse was trying to whisper, but the deep, electronic resonance of his voice still filled the room effortlessly.
“Enough knockin’ boots with the ‘bot, alright? Get out here!”
Frozen in embarrassment, Maxwell was relieved to hear Van blow her whistle again and continue shouting down the hallway.
“...Sorry.”
“It’s alright, Torse. They’re just teasing.” Maxwell said, patting Torse’s arm next to him. “...I think.”
“It’s impossible to know for sure.”
Maxwell laughed as he climbed out of bed. Torse also sat up. As he extricated his spikes from the mattress. even more feathers started to lift and swirl around the room.
“We better get cleaned up,” Maxwell said, suddenly feeling more motivated about their mission than ever before. “Ready to go save the world?”
Torse’s machinery whirred, and his eyes lit up extra bright. “Fuck yes.”