003: An Option To Kiss?

Emerson stood there for what felt like an eternity, eyes locked on the stranger. He couldn’t stop staring. The figure before him was still, unmoving, and too perfect in a way that made his skin crawl.

He circled around the man slowly, trying to make sense of him... this being. 'Who the hell was he supposed to be?'

He was... too smooth. Too perfect. Emerson couldn't pin it down. The man's face, his jawline, was sharp. But there was something too symmetrical about it.

'Is that what I look like?' Emerson's mind asked, but he didn’t think he did. Well, his own face wasn’t exactly ugly, but this... this unmoving man? He looked like a model of some sort.

'Is he praying?' Emerson thought to himself. 'No, not with his hands in his pocket. That’s no respect for the big boss up in heaven.'

Then, somehow, the annoying voice of Raven rang in his head: “... standing in your office… standing in your office… standing in…” In his fucking office. It was the robot. A damn robot that looked more human than him. Fuck!

He—no, it—had this soft jaw, like a photoshopped version of himself. 'If I had a jaw like that, maybe people would actually throw their underwear at me.'

He leaned in closer. The sight of its features, almost alien in their perfection, kept him drawn. No beard. Its skin was too... flawless. No stubble, no blemishes. How old was it supposed to be? Emerson couldn’t tell.

He should’ve been disgusted by this lifeless thing in front of him, but there was something about it—about him—that kept him going.

Maybe, Emerson thought, though he wasn’t sure. 'Maybe he wasn’t that much older than me. I mean, this kid who built him said he looked, what? Twenty-eight? Could’ve been the same age. But this thing... this thing stood like a Greek god carved from marble. I couldn’t even feel any age on it.'

“No, no. It’s just a bot, Emerson." He shook his head, trying to shake the growing curiosity that made him feel a little off-balance.

He took a step closer, then another. His hand reached out, moving almost on its own. The air in the room felt charged. He paused, breath catching in his throat. Still, no movement. Not breathing. A weird chill ran up his spine.

His fingers twitched as he brought them up to its neck, almost instinctively. Nothing. The skin felt warm—too warm—and he pulled his hand away quickly. His heart thumped now, harder than it had been a moment ago.

“Is this thing... breathing or not?” Emerson muttered to himself, stepping back. 'And what the hell is going on with me?' he asked that part in his head, weary he'd know what it's doing to him.

He stood there for a second, processing the stillness. It didn’t make sense.

“Sex bot, huh?” he said aloud, more to break the awkward silence than anything. But as he looked at it again, he felt... he didn’t know... offended? Insulted? The thought stung, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking down to its... crotch area. Fuck. There it was.

He wasn’t even going to lie; down there seemed like there was a bulge, and it was obvious. And as much as he hated to acknowledge it, his stomach twisted with something he didn’t want to feel: Heat. Maybe it was just how... perfect everything about the bot was. Like, too perfect.

He cleared his throat, the awkwardness settling in thick like syrup.

“Uh, are these yours?” he said to the robot… because why the hell not? He reached down and grabbed a crumpled note off the floor, his hands shaky, but his eyes were locked on the paper.

As he unfolded it, the messy handwriting was almost illegible. “The Boyfriend Bot X—uh, AKA Sex Bot... seriously?” He laughed bitterly and tossed it aside. “An introduction. Really? What kind of messed up joke is this?”

He picked up another note. It looked like the kid had scribbled it in a hurry. The handwriting was sure illegible. Devilish to the eyes. He squinted at it, then read aloud, “No switch. No switch to turn it on... what kind of—?”

And then, like a slap to the face, the word 'kiss' leapt off the page at him.

“Kiss?” Emerson repeated. His eyes darted up, finding the robot’s expressionless face again. His mind was spinning. This thing, this machine, was supposed to want a kiss?

He took a step back, a shaky laugh escaping him. “What is this? Some kind of joke? Are you… are you messing with me?”

He looked around the room like it might hold the answers, but of course, it didn’t. “Come on. It’s a damn bot, right? There’s no way it’s real.”

He looked at the thing again. There was everything so human about it, even though it shouldn’t be. It didn’t make sense. Its skin, the way it looked, how soft it felt, the warmth. This wasn’t metal or plastic. It... It felt too damn fleshy.

He almost couldn’t help himself. His fingers hovered above its cheek, brushing lightly, almost experimentally. Soft. Too soft. He almost pulled away, but something in him held back.

He leaned in closer, just to feel the warmth again, just to check... was this even possible?

It was impossible, he knew it. He knew this was insane. But when he leaned in, the stupid part of him was aching for it. The stupid pull was too strong to ignore.

He felt the lightest brush of his lips against the cheek. His stomach flipped. He pulled away too quickly, shaking his head. “No. No way. This is... this is wrong. I’m… this isn’t me.” He wiped his mouth, trying to force himself to stay calm.

The robot’s expression stayed the same. Silent. Deafening one at that.

Kiss or not kiss?

He closed his eyes for a second, breathing deeply. "What is happening to me?"