PULLING WIRES
He wasn't sure how he landed himself in this position. Voltaire was certain and knew for an absolute fact that the upgrades to the operating systems across every securitron included the ability to self-repair. Meaning, he shouldn't have to fix up Yes Man, and yet. It was a simple request; he just wanted to fine tune some of his hardware to run a little smoother. Voltaire supposed it would be beneficial and aid in his companion's ability to co-rule the Mojave alongside himself.
However.
He was absolutely embarrassed how hot and bothered he was at the mere idea of getting to prod around inside of Yes Man, toying with all of his circuits and wires. His stomach was engaging in all sorts of acrobatics as he gave the idea some more thought. Silently, he gave his mask and goggles a brief moment of appreciation as they obscured his quickly reddening features. No, the deliberate way the computer put forward the request did not help in the slightest. He didn't even know that he was capable of such a suggestive way of presenting these sorts of scenarios. Wouldn't it technically be against his programming in some way? He wasn't entirely sure but it did craft a ravenous pit in the depths of his stomach. The courier swallowed thickly as he continued to gather his tools in anticipation.
He typically didn't consider himself a handyman or even really particularly good with repairs, but Yes Man was insistent and oh-so-nice when encouraging him. Stricken with a strong sense of guilt, he found himself worrying incessantly that he was misreading the intentions behind this all and that he was likely taking advantage of Yes Man's programming. He was fully aware that Yes Man had recently had an update to his personality, allowing for him to be more assertive but he was still concerned because his primary programming was to be unconditionally agreeable. Would that even allow for him to engage in such lascivious behaviours? It didn't help that Voltaire's attraction to machines was something of an open secret, being blatantly obvious to all of those who carefully observed his behaviours around them.
He was absolutely certain that Yes Man, ever the observant, absolutely noticed this by now. His thoughts rapidly growing fuzzier and more distracting, he shook his head with a prominent swallow.
“Courier.”
The simple utterance of his title of sorts ripped him right back to reality, eyes wide as they lied back upon the hulking robot before him. A sheepish smile curled his lips and a light chuckle crawled up from the depths, “You know. You can call me by my name, you don't have to keep calling me ‘courier’.”
His screen flickered in the dim lighting, clearly giving the statement some thought. Voltaire gently pressed his forehead to the screen with a soft hum, running his fingers across the welded seams of Yes Man's chassis.
“Okay!” he chirped, snaking an arm around the human's waist, “Voltaire, I have some updates to share from the securitrons stationed around the canyon.”
He cooed and felt his entrails flutter at the robot's gentle beep of his name, “Oh? Please fill me in, I'm curious.” He dug around for one of his various screwdrivers, humming quietly. “It would be useful to go over while I work on your repairs,” he murmured, the fluttering feeling creeping up throughout his core.
“Of course! It's believed that some stray Powder Gangers were trying to harass Goodsprings once again! A group of them were found outside of the settlement,” Yes Man prattled on while Voltaire watched him carefully, nodding along. “Do you want me to send out more securitrons to boost the town's defenses?”
“Oh! Yeah, I think that'd be good. I like Goodsprings, they're nice people,” he jolted, gaze not leaving the robot before him. His brain was absolutely dripping with shameful images of his companion, making him feel even more guilty. Shocked back to reality, he was made overly conscious of the claw gently resting on his hip as Yes Man continued to dump more reports his way. He'll have to have him remind him of everything again later, he absolutely was not listening in the slightest.
This securitron was so distracting, it makes it impossible to manage the Mojave efficiently. Not like he actually cared that much.
Antsy, he climbed up to straddle the slumped robot. He spread his fingers out across the expanses of metal, breath catching sharply in his throat. He knew very well that securitrons were far from rare in terms of robots one could encounter in the Mojave, but it didn't stop him from admiring Yes Man's construction. Despite being built identically to every other securitron and frequently redownloading his consciousness to a new vessel every time a previous one is destroyed, the courier always found him to be the most beautiful of them all.
A lump was stubbornly stuck in his throat as he shakily unscrewed the panel protecting all of Yes Man's precious circuitry. His hands trembled as he ran a finger along the various nodes, gently pinching a stray wire. How odd that this one wasn't noticeably connected to any part, at the very least not one that he could see. His free hand strayed towards the keys that rested on the robot's thorax, fingers ghosting over one of the buttons ever so delicately. He took note of the securitron's fans whirring louder than the typical ambient levels. It excited him greatly, taking note of the effects that he was already having on him.
“I want to pull these out and tug on them so badly,” he murmured, ear pressed closer to listen closely to the increasing fans. In any other circumstances, he'd be concerned that Yes Man was overheating and that he'd cook his circuits. However, he knew that this was just Yes Man's own physical response to his advances. He stared at his screen, watching the light flicker in the darkness.
The digital smile shifted into a sheepish grin. “Well, who am I to stop you?” A synthesised chuckle rang out from his speakers as Voltaire sat deathly still, his breath halting. His mouth was uncomfortably dry and he shifted in place, his pants growing uncomfortable with the tell-tale stickiness growing in his boxers.
“Are you serious?” he choked out, face mere inches from his screen. He cleared his throat, face burning beneath the coverage, “You can tell me no, if you want to. Well, I know you can't directly say no but, uh…maybe give me some sort of sign if you're not into this? Like, push me off of you, I'll get the hint.” He was rambling, he knew that he was, he always found himself rambling when he was nervous.
The claw merely tightened its grip slightly with a low hum, “Trust me, I want to.” Voltaire swallowed thickly, face burning as he continued to fidget with the loose wire. A shaky grin slowly split across his features beneath the mask. Growing conscious of the heat swelling up from beneath it, his mostly non-occupied hand ripped the mask away from his face and he carelessly threw it aside, drops of sweat beading up in his scraggly facial hair.
“Okay, I'll admit it. Your update is one of the hottest things ever.”
“Aw, you think so?” Yes Man downright cooed, his tone clearly teasing as he leaned in closer and pushed Voltaire's hand deeper into his open compartment. The human nodded as all exposed flesh shined with a brilliant crimson tint, shifting in place once more. He was desperately having to keep himself from rutting against the machine, craving that tiny bit of satisfaction.
“You're gonna make me go insane,” the courier murmured, heart racing wildly and pounding in his ears. He delicately and experimentally tugged on the stray wire with his hearing laser focused on any changes in Yes Man's synthesised voice, fine tuned to take note of any lagging or glitching. When he heard a stutter in his vocalisations, Voltaire took that as a cue to yank harder on the wire. This only elicited a much stronger reaction from the robot, fluttering feelings arising within the pits of his stomach as Yes Man's voice glitches out to a considerable degree. The throbbing was growing harder and harder to ignore, but still he persisted. His own breathing grew more shallow as he pressed down on the buttons of his keypad, yanking harsher on the bundle of wires. Panting loudly, he grit his teeth as he reflexively thrusted himself against the weathered chassis, the lagging synthesised vocalisations emitting from his companion beneath him ringing out wonderfully.
“Oh god, you're the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me,” Voltaire commented, chest heaving as he pressed a sloppy kiss to Yes Man's display, revelling in the fuzzy sensations radiating from it.
He tugged once more on the bundle of wires, a bit more desperately and a bit more harshly, hips stuttering as he rolled them against the computer's chassis. He groaned shakily, repeating the movement with a touch more fervour whilst he pressed down harder on the keys and yanked his wires. If he were a little more cognizant in this moment, he would be concerned about accidentally severing something important but Yes Man's glitched mewls as his synthesised voice lagged behind coupled with artificial moans just merely encouraged him.
Eyes half lidded as he refused to break eye contact with the securitron beneath him, Voltaire stood up slowly and pulled his hands back to clumsily unbutton his jeans. He bit down on his lip as he kicked them off, along with his boxers, sighing in a sing-song manner. He shrugged off his duster, hurriedly prying off his sweat-soaked sweater and throwing his gloves aside.
He quickly got back to straddling him, hands snaking back into the exposed internals and twirling wires around his spindly digits. With a low hum, he peppered light kisses along the edge of his screen and stroked his delicate circuitry, twisting the stray wires tighter. He rolled his hips down against textured metal with a blissful groan, a sneaking temptation to snake one of his hands down to toy with his throbbing tdick slowly gnawing away at his mind. As a testament to how synchronised the two's thought processes were, Yes Man gripped him tightly in place as Voltaire wildly rutted against his chassis. He bit down on his lip, fingers dancing down from the keys to his clit and sighing shakily at the contact. Alternating careful pressure to each side, he pressed himself closer to the robot, gripping tighter onto the bundle of wires.
His mind began to wander to images of the bot beneath him with much more dexterous digits, carefully helping to unravel him. He groaned shakily at the thought as he rolled his hips against his hand, his other hand getting further entangled in stray wires.
“Oh, sometimes I'm so tempted to strap one of my strap-ons onto you and fuck myself on it, just so you can watch,” he babbled on as he thrusted his hips against the securitron, moaning loudly. He could feel that warm feeling coiling up within the pits of his entrails; he was so close. He quickened his pace, moving more so in a frenzied manner at this point. He yanked harshly on the wires, bringing them a good distance out of the chassis they belonged in, resulting in a shrill and very distorted garbled mess of a moan from the robot. Voltaire's hips snapped one last time, damn near screaming as he came all over the weathered casing of his companion.
He stared down at him, breathing heavily with a wobbly grin. He was shocked back to reality when he quickly noticed the error screen flashed across Yes Man's display.
“Fuck, shit, okay, let's get you back up and around,” he hissed, a bit worried that he may have caused some serious damage to the other. After reseating his components and tidying up his wires, he was swept with a wave of relief as he watched the securitron slowly begin his rebooting cycle. He was just glad that he didn't totally brick him, that would not only be embarrassing but also would deeply upset him.
“That was…exciting!” the computer chirped, slowly arising from the horizontal position he had found himself in. His display blinked as he gathered his bearings and took in his surroundings, an artificial snicker as he immediately pieced together the cause of his shutdown when he landed upon a fully nude Voltaire.
“I'm just glad you're okay,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the other's screen with a gentle smile, “I would have never forgiven myself if I accidentally broke you in the heat of passion.”
“Well, I can't say I would mind,” the securitron noted, drawing out the statement with his unchanging display. Voltaire, however, was left slack-jawed in response.
“You're going to be the death of me, we really need to do this more often. I already feel like I could go for another round,” he admitted sheepishly, rubbing at his neck. A hum emitted from the machine as he pulled the courier close, dimming his display.
Voltaire merely chuckled as he wrapped his arms around that metallic midsection. While he couldn't outright state it, he picked up on the cues that Yes Man really wanted to rest first, which he was perfectly okay with.
Honestly, he'd love to stay like this forever if he could.