Settling in with Rowan’s wilting cock still inside him for now too, Milo rested his head on Rowan’s shoulder and kissed his neck.
Rowan wiped the hand that had stroked Milo to completion on his shirt, further soiling it, but that proved he didn’t mind. He rested both hands behind Milo’s lower back, thumbing his lightning scars.
The echo of pleasure the action caused made Milo shiver.
“May I ask you something, Rowan?”
“If it’s whether that was good for me, I can assure you it was.”
Milo chuckled a little too, not intentionally, but wholly spontaneous because he knew Rowan was making a joke. “Why did you keep the Roomba after it stopped working?”
“Oh… I guess… because it reminded me of why I love robotics so much.”
“You do?” Milo sat up straighter again, meeting Rowan’s stare.
Rowan had sweat on his brow, something Milo couldn’t mimic, because as much as other aspects of Milo could feign something close to human, in the end, he wasn’t. He was a machine, and though Rowan had said he didn’t mind, it was a barrier, an insurmountable difference between them thatworried Milo. He kept wondering if who he was becoming would eventually be someone Rowan no longer wanted.
“Of course I love robotics,” Rowan said. “I wouldn’t have made it my career if I didn’t. Even though some of the work can be monotonous, coming up with new ways to improve something is exciting.”
Milo tilted his head. “And that is all you love about robotics?”
“No,” Rowan said with a slowly growing smile. “I also enjoy the way it looks… the wayyoulook, from sleek outer shell or tissue to spinning gears and flowing circuits. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful, Milo. And so is Spot, but mostly because you chose to fix her for me. That, this,you… it’s all more beautiful than I can say.”
There came one of those wonderful warm feelings again, the one that made Milo certain he never wanted to be with anyone else the way he wanted to be with Rowan.
Ever.
“Thank you,” he said, and though he knew he would have to get up soon so they could clean themselves and change clothes—at least Rowan’s shirt—before he disentangled himself from Rowan’s lap, Milo bent once more to claim a kiss.
Milo was still in a state of extreme bliss the following day, despite all the hours that had passed since the encounter on Rowan’s workshop chair, riding high on what his research stated was called afterglow.
Nothing about him was actually glowing but the name felt fitting.
Before Rowan left for work, which he was anxious but also excited about, planning to stop in to see Troy first thing and learn what else he might have uncovered, Milo asked Rowan what he thought he liked most about the perfect apple pie.
“Are you planning on making one?” Rowan asked.
“We have enough apples. But I thought I would start simple and perfect the filling first, then tackle crust options, before bringing both together for the perfect treat for you.”
“Just for me, huh?” Rowan seemed concerned, perhaps that Milo was continuing to serve him like he had when Milo called him Master, but it was so much more than that.
“It is for me too. It would give me great joy to see the kind of rapturous expression you make when enjoying your favorite foods because it was a recipe I perfected for you. I enjoy cooking and baking, even though I do not eat, because I get to see you enjoy something I made.”
“I guess that is kind of amazing,” Rowan conceded with a warm smile.
Milo beamed right back at him. “Then tell me, what elements of an apple pie’s filling do you find most pleasing?”
“I suppose… softer apples, more cooked and less crunch, with an even goo to apple ratio.”
“Goo?” Milo chuckled.
“You know what I mean. The part of the filling that’s not chunks. And… not overly sweet, leaning more tart, and heavy on the cinnamon and spices. Is that enough?”
“That’s perfect! It will give me a good baseline, and tonight, I will have some for you to taste test. I promise it will at least be tolerable if not yet orgasmic.”
“Orgasmic?” Rowan repeated with a laugh.
“Of course! The best flavors are often described in sensual terms.”
