And Fourteen likely was too.

He didn’t know where the ability to think this way came from. Normally he was a fuck-and-leave sort of person. He didn’t like touching people he didn’t have to, and sex was an impersonal activity used to release tension. He didn’t want that with Cym.

“I want more than just this,” Fourteen said, finally. “You deserve more than a quick fuck right now. We both do.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty certain I want to do this right now.” Cym’s eyes were fever-bright, and Fourteen was pretty sure he wasn’t at optimal reasoning capacity.

“I want it too.” So fucking much it hurt. “But, you haven’t done this before, have you?” If Cym had been locked up since childhood with limited contact with other people, it wasn’t a stretch for Fourteen to assume as much.

“Um… we did some stuff earlier.”

“But that was all, right?’

Cym gave a defeated little sigh. “...Yes.”

“You’ve known me for two days.”

“It was an eventful two days!”

“I want more than a victory fuck from you. I want to… learn you.” Fourteen had almost said study instead of learn but had decided it would have sounded creepy. “I want to find out how to take care of you properly. And I need to reset. I’m wound up from too much fighting and not enough downtime. There’s a real chance I could hurt you badly. I don’t want to lose control with you just because I’m too wound up not to.”

That last bit didn’t cool Cym down as much as Fourteen thought it would. No. He looked… excited.

Cym was practically panting when he asked, “You’re stronger than a norm, aren’t you?”

“I’m a lot of things more than a norm. If you look at my operating system specs, you’ll see how I’m different.”

Cym’s mind seemed to stutter, and his body language shifted to something akin to alarm. “Oh shit. I put that thingy in my shoe. Where are my shoes?”

“They’re on the floor.” Fourteen gestured to where he’d lined them up neatly with his by the door. “But I put the flash drive on the nightstand next to you. I’m not allowed to carry it myself once it’s with my new handler.”

“That’s disgusting. Can I destroy it?”

“Negative,” Fourteen said automatically. It was a programmed response that he had no choice but to say. He hated programmed responses. “It’s necessary.”

Cym made a sad little face. “They made you say that, didn’t they?”

Fourteen nodded sullenly.

“Okay then. We’re going to get this programming out of you. I promise. But I’ll keep the thingy safe. Maybe it’ll help with that.”

It was funny, but Fourteen actually believed him. Someone wanted to help him rather than use him, and it was a first for him.

“So to get this clear, you don’t want to have sex right now, or any sexy times?’

“I want to pin you down and fuck you within an inch of your life right now, Cym.”

Cym became painfully still and his small cock made itself known against Cym’s pants. “That doesn’t make this easy at all.”

“No. But I think we both need it anyway. Let me take it slow with you, Cym. Let me treat you the way you deserve.”

“Until when?’

Fourteen smiled. “Probably sooner than we should.” He sat up and kissed Cym squarely on the mouth. “I don’t think I’ll last very long.”

“Haaaaa… Okay. We’ll get to know each other, and in the meantime, we can work to get this stuff out of your head. It’ll probably be a good idea for us to be on equal footing before getting in too deep, anyway.”

Fourteen could have told Cym they were already well past the point of no return, but he thought it was better for Cym to come to that realization on his own.

To make sure Cym knew Fourteen meant what he’d said and wasn’t rejecting him, Fourteen cuddled the shit out of him until Jack knocked on the door again.

“Time’s up, lovebirds! Your services are needed downstairs.” Jack’s voice was a touch more urgent this time.

Cym called out, “Will there be tacos? Because I’m not going anywhere unless tacos are involved.” His face was mutinous, and he muttered to Fourteen, “I deserve some fucking tacos after last night.”

“Yes, you do, baby.” Fourteen had no clue how to make anything that didn’t involve a microwave or heating an M.R.E., but he could make someone else do it.

“I’ll tell Clayton that the Stillbringer requires tacos, but only if you two stop doing naked things and get your asses downstairs.”

“We’re not naked!” Cym scrambled off of Fourteen but didn’t make it far because they were still chained together. “Can you take this off now? I’m not going anywhere.”

Fourteen gave an inward frown. He liked the comfort of having Cym attached to him, but it wasn’t part of their deal. He had to let Cym go free until that evening. He unlocked the cuffs reluctantly, and as soon as they parted, Fourteen felt his conditioning begin to surround him once more. It was subtle because Cym was still close and he wasn’t wearing his armor, but he could still feel it.

It sucked, but it was what it was.

They got dressed, and Fourteen shrugged on his jacket because it was what he was used to. Besides, he’d feel like an idiot for leaving it behind if he ended up needing it. This place seemed secure, but since Fourteen hadn’t personally inspected it, he wasn’t going to chance it.

Once his armor was on, Fourteen was walled off from Cym’s magic, and he felt his face become impassive and his emotions go still. The Cold was nothing like it was before Cym’s magic had freed him from his conditioning’s complete control, but it was still a strong presence in his mind.

Without thinking, he reached out to touch Cym’s hand to remind himself that he was a real person and not a mindless machine.

The relief was instantaneous. Cym squeezed his hand in understanding.

They held hands until they reached the lobby of the sprawling mansion of the Guard chapter house. When they reached the lobby, they both let go in a silent understanding, and Cym greeted the guardians with a hesitant wave.

Their intimacy was personal and not something Fourteen wanted to share. For the moment, in front of strangers, it would stay personal. Fourteen didn’t feel like Jack’s team were strangers anymore, but the boy standing in the lobby next to the dead body wasn’t to be trusted.

“Sterling!” Cym ran toward his brother but skidded to a halt when he noticed the body on the floor of the lobby. “Whoa. Who’s that?”

Fourteen snapped into full soldier mode. He knew exactly who it was.

The navy blue peacoat was unmistakable.

Fourteen moved Cym away from the body and kneeled down to inspect it. Harper. The man who had been sent to capture Fourteen and drag him back to the fold had the tale-tell signs of strangulation.

“What are you doing here?” Cym asked Sterling. “Did you do this?”

Fourteen highly doubted it. With Fourteen’s spare armor and Harper’s skill, Sterling would be dead in a fight before he knew what hit him.