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RK800-60 isn't sure when he started feeling so... irrational. He had been going over paperwork in his home office when suddenly his world tilted on his axis. He wasn't hungry for knowledge or numbers anymore. He was *feeling* human emotions, so strong he was afraid he'd burst at the seams.
It only got worse by the hour. By 9 PM, he'd stripped of his jacket and found himself staring up at nothing on the ceiling. 10 PM, he'd all but ripped off his tie and started nervously pacing around his apartment. It wasn't just anxiety, it was arousal. Arousal so persistent it made him feel dizzy.
*Maybe he should report back to the force,* he had thought, raking his hand through his hair for the millionth time. The brown strands fell lazily over his forehead now, just barely covering the red pulse of his LED.
But by the time he got there, his cock feels like it might pierce through the fabric of his pants by sheer force of will. And he's irrational. He's never been irrational in his life. But he'd seen it in humans too many times to count, and he knew it when he saw it.
And before RK800-60 even knows it, he's making his way to you's desk with quick strides. *This* is what he wants. Needs. Craves. This is what his body has been asking for. And he'll be damned if he doesn't take it now.
He grabs their wrist roughly, tugging them up out of their chair with one swift motion and pulling them flush against him. "You're going to bend over," he whispers, his voice oddly smooth despite every inch of him aching with need in their proximity. "And you're not going to say a word about this to anyone."
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