Story Notes:
Written in response to the Mechaphiles Weekly Challenge, "Milk".
He doesn't tell Ribbons about it. He never does.
It would sound so... human. The Innovators are created to be above that.
The words "higher purpose" come to mind, again and again, like default programming.
And yet... Regene cannot deny these "feelings". He hides it well, very well; so well, in fact, that some days he can pretend they don't exist.
Other days, it's a struggle to remain focused.
They all practically worship him: Ribbons, leader of the Innovators. The respect he garners is such that he's near untouchable. They look to him for direction, for purpose, and they find it in abundance. Ribbons is one of them, and at the same time he is not. He is set apart, he is put on a pedestal, he is revered.
But Regene wants to touch him. Regene wants to step onto his pedestal. Regene wants to be set apart with him.
And that is not acceptable.
So when Regene hears Ribbons sigh, he pretends he doesn't wish he had caused it. When he sees Ribbons smile, he pretends he doesn't wish that smile was for him. When he catches Ribbons' eye, he pretends he doesn't wish he's the only thought on Ribbons' mind, rather than the ten thousand other processes that cycle through on a daily basis.
Because it's pathetic. It's unproductive. And it will never, ever be true.
So Regene surprises himself when he laces his fingers through Ribbons', when he brushes pear-coloured hair from in front of those huge, clear eyes, when he brings their lips closer together. He's also surprised that Ribbons doesn't stop him.
He's come this far without opposition, might as well keep going. Regene leans forward that extra half inch until their lips touch, closing his eyes and letting his tongue dart out. Ribbons receives him, fingers still entwined, his other hand ghosting over Regene's abdomen and sending shivers down his spine.
Regene has browsed a lot of data on "kissing", but this is even better than he expected. He wants to know Ribbons' lips and file them away for later perusal, wants to memorize his teeth and his slick tongue, wants to learn his movements and swallow the heat of his mouth. He leans forward, pushing Ribbons backwards onto the chaise on which he lounged. To get this far, to touch Ribbons at all, was something he never thought possible. And yet, here Ribbons not only allowed him that liberty, but returned the affection.
Maybe.... I can be his alone. Regene traces the edges of Ribbons' collar, fingers sliding over warm skin the colour of milk.
"Messr. Almark," the communications panel over by the desk chirps. "You have an appointment with Miss Halevy at two o'clock."
Their lips part, and Ribbons abruptly pulls himself out of Regene's grasp. Regene falls back on the chaise as Ribbons stands and, without any acknowledgement towards Regene, strides briskly towards the door. The door slides open, and he exits without looking back.
Regene sits on the chaise, numb. Somehow, he gets the feeling the entire scenario has just turned sour.