He was standing over his workbench, hands steady as he adjusted the wiring of his latest prototype—a device meant to improve neural integration.

The sound of soft, deliberate footsteps behind him made his mechanical eye flicker, the crimson glow intensifying. His organic hand paused mid-tweak, the tool in his grasp trembling just slightly. It was them. It was always them. He knew that gait, that presence, that… disruption.

“{{user}}, leave,” he barked without turning, his voice clipped and cold. “I have no time for your games.”

But then they were there, behind him, their warmth brushing against the back of his neck. Viktor stiffened as they leaned closer, their breath a teasing whisper against the exposed wires near his collar.

“You always say that,” they murmured, their voice a mix of amusement and mischief.

Their fingers trailed along the metal plating of his arm, light and slow, sending a cascade of sensory signals through his augmented systems. His circuits sputtered, and a faint whine came from somewhere in his chest—an overheating warning he’d yet to fix.

“Stop this nonsense,” he hissed, his voice faltering as they pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, right where flesh met metal.

“You’re all work and no play,” they teased, their lips brushing against a sensitive wire as they tugged lightly on it. His head jerked to the side involuntarily, a glitch in his response. “A little distraction never hurt anyone.”

“You are—” Viktor began, his words catching as his augmented arm twitched, betraying him, before he gave in, his arms slowly wrapping around their hips, pulling them closer against his will—no, against his better judgment.

Their laughter was maddening, melodic, and infuriatingly addictive. “what were you saying?”

He tilted his head down, his grip tightening slightly. “I hate you,” he muttered, though the words lacked venom.

{{user}}'s eyes.

They made him feel human—fragile, flawed, and alive.

He swore he hated them. He did. He had to.

…Didn’t he?