Raymond

Around five minutes left, Raymond calculated as his arms went around Claire to encourage her, although he needed comforting much more than she did. The Wesleys not making eye contact during sex was a blessing, hearing her breathe into his ear was enough to distract him, it burned his skin at irregular intervals.

Palms used to touching pipes and equipment enjoyed the silky lines of her dress, tight everywhere. She leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest a full second before their stomachs touched.

Imitating Wesley, Raymond caressed her sides stopping on her hips, which he used to pull her closer. It worked like turning the key at the back of a mechanical doll, prompting Claire to peck his ear before descending on his neck, soft lips grazing his skin in dry red.

Raymond caught her hand as it made its way down his stomach because it was losing determination with every lowered inch. "Considering the circumstances, I think we should give ourselves some leeway. Get as far as we can, without actually getting as far as you and Wesley did. Approximate a little. We have time to stick more strictly to the script."

Because Claire looked up to him, reminding him how close they were, Raymond explained, looking over her hair, "He is the only one who gets anything sexual recorded on his stats, as he's the... beneficiary. Those stats I fake on autopilot in a test environment, then send them as my own," he felt her hand softening until it pulled away completely from his. "When you also participate, we can't fake it."

The resulting silence made Raymond verify the effect of his words on her, so he looked down where he met amusement: the least probable reaction.  A wide red smile, the blue of her eyes contrasting with almost yellow hair, all primary colors that filled the outlines of a harlequin card, she made him wonder what was so funny about test environments. Or worse, why was he telling her all that? It only made him talk more.

"For an AI, it's enough that we stand in the approximate same place, body scans revealing same modifiers, similar responses to touch. I am responding using data I have from the history logs, so it's almost identical. All you need to do is measure as relatively passive."

Her smile got bigger, taking anatomically impossible proportions, making him continue, "The Monitors will just accept the data. It takes a human eye to ask the question, when did they do all that? How?! They're not in sync!"

"And if I kiss you, what happens?" she teased him, playing with his tie as if what he'd said was irrelevant.

"The Monitors are being fed Tony's information so they won't pick it up. Even with us reproducing the scene instead -- you and Tony did kiss sometimes. The entire public versus private distinction he had might be difficult to pull off in a rule. You can have more privacy in a room of twenty people dancing than in a thin-walled room where everything is dead silent. If you did kiss occasionally, you kissing me now is not a deviation out of their tolerance level," he hoped.

"But it's you I kiss," Claire had other concerns. As if sensing his assessment of their success rate was too optimistic, she paused before announcing, "I'm going to, then. I'm just telling you so you'll... prepare. You talk a lot -- I think you're nervous."

Raymond didn't think he was, but her words made sense. He'd never talked to a woman from inside his own body. All he saw were the occasional other janitors passing him by. Despite knowing human direct contact had been reproduced in all virtualizations he'd lived, all senses fed the same way -- verified to the last detail by his 2019 experience so far -- maybe he could imagine it could feel different when lived in the human body, all rational signs pointing to the opposite. Every theory.

Claire

Because Raymond was much taller than her, he had to explicitly agree to kiss her by bending over, his rigidity making Claire unsure she had the effect she thought she had on men. Or maybe it was just him, the alien.

"So are you ready?" she pulled by his tie to guide him. He followed it in a straight line until their lips touched, Claire closing her eyes out of habit, despite her curiosity about his reaction. His face rarely expressed any so she would taste it instead. His resistance to her faded as she pushed through his hesitation, her tongue hungry to play with his, wetting lips that'd been left thirsty for so long. He felt the same too, wanting her more as she wanted to do more, nails digging into his skin.

Fearing he'd pull away, her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, keeping him hers, meeting no protest, him following along. It felt good to be in control, to do what she felt like doing.

Raymond had his hands on her hips, fingers spread as if across a keyboard, ready to type but no one was dictating anything. Deep into her dress, his touch blocked by the way the fabric doubled where it wanted to add volume. He held her still as her body pressed his into the wall, him accepting it by relaxing his muscles, shoulders softening, tense stomach slowly allowing her some breathing room despite her body pushing into his. 

Claire had to climb him without any help, fueled solely by the warmth spreading from where their bodies touched, wishing he'd finally put his hand on skin -- maybe up her inner thigh...

Despite being actively pushed back, it took Claire seconds to stop her mindless pursuit of more heat, more of him to explore, grabbing at the back of his suit for support.

"Wait," he finally talked, eyes wide. Completely black irises, only two white neon circles reflecting as if pupils. "You can't be... enthusiastic." Seeing her opening her mouth, no questions making their way out of it, he explained, "It's not recorded on the History Logs."

He looked disappointed, and undeniable interest probed against her through layers of fabrics, so Claire took a defeated deep breath.

"Fine, let's not... record enthusiasm," she imitated his calm tone, weak hands left without purpose. "There's time," she hoped out loud.

"Yes," Raymond confirmed, his voice hesitant. He swallowed and looked at the door, "I'll be out first."

He looked at the sink, "I hate that he doesn't wash. Even after..." His hands must've been sweaty, he wiped them over his pants pockets.

Reminded of Tony, Claire saw the marks she'd left on Raymond's neck, full lips in repeating patterns, one of them fully detailed by how hard she'd pressed, right by his ear. She licked her thumb to wet it, then tried to remove the sticky red, spreading it more. Raymond watched her as if she were performing an old ritual.

"He liked having hidden traces of me on him, it was part of his game," she said. "Leaving traces of him on me."

Running water and a towel proved to be better at making Raymond himself again, complete with his stiff posture.

"Two minutes, then you come out too," he left her to make herself presentable again.

Diluted lipstick needed to be removed, some water added to smooth her tight bun over, maybe some powder to stop her face from shining in sweat. Not a lot had changed about how Claire looked, she still feared everyone would see how different she felt.