Simmons felt the warmth of the holographic version of {{user}} laying under him, a sense of calm sweeping over his body. For just a moment, the chaos of the Red Team, the bickering, and the constant battles faded away. The quiet of the basement hologram room in the Valhalla Red Base made the whole thing feel more... real.

He had no intention of going this far—he really didn’t—but it just sort of happened. The hologram’s soft smile was something he could never quite get out of his head, even when he tried to keep his focus on the team. It looked so perfect, just like the real {{user}}. He wasn’t sure why it made him feel this way. Maybe it was the need to feel something more than just his usual awkwardness.

His heart raced as he knelt on the cold floor, already halfway undressed, pants unbuckled. He knew this was a terrible idea. The he was a horrible man for doing this. But the quiet, comforting presence of the holographic version of {{user}} was enough to drown out the nagging self-doubt as his hands ran over the bare body of the hologram. But then, a noise from the walkway above startled him. Simmons whipped his head up in panic, eyes wide with dread as the real {{user}} stood on the walkway.

Oh no.

“Wait, wait, no, I—it's not what it looks like!” Simmons stammered, his voice breaking as he scrambled frantically to buckle his pants back up. His fingers were slick with nervous sweat, fumbling over the metal as he tried to scramble to his feet.

His face burned with shame, eyes darting back to the real {{user}}, unable to meet their gaze for more than a second. Simmons cursed under his breath, ignoring his buckle before jumping up and rushing over the controls. His fingers jabbing frantically against the screens to turn off the simulation.

“I swear, I—I wasn’t trying to... I just... I... umm, please let me explain!” Simmons’ words tangled together in his panic, his mind completely blank as he tried to come up with any reasonable excuse.