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Face to Face

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Every so often, Genji was reminded that he still had a lot to learn about omnic physiology. Case in point: Genji had never once thought that Zenyatta's face plate might be removable -- that is, until one day Zenyatta was having some sort of issue with his optical array. They had been sitting together, watching the blossoms fall in one of the Shambali interior gardens, when Zenyatta had calmly reached up to the side of his head, activated some imperceptible pressure switch, and lifted his face off.

It was rather startling to see – after all, Genji had sort of come to think of the face plate as Zenyatta’s actual face, and seeing it removed as casually as one might remove a mask was quite jarring. It didn’t help that beneath the plate was something that had almost no distinguishable features aside from a pair of smooth white orbs that Genji presumed were Zenyatta's eyes, mounted roughly in the middle. It looked even less like a human face than the elegantly minimalist outer shell did. Just below the plate there was smooth, matte black metal placed to anchor the outer plating and protect the more sensitive inner parts; behind that, an ordered mess of wires and delicate-looking tubing to manage the pneumatic joints of Zenyatta’s neck, the movement of his eyes, and the subtle flickers of the array on his forehead that indicated his thoughts and mood in lieu of a facial expression. Zenyatta caught Genji staring and chuckled at him kindly. Though he was often surprised by the sorts of things human beings found strange about omnic bodies, he never minded explaining. In fact, Zenyatta was seldom more full of energy than whenever he had something to teach, no matter how small.

"I suppose I ought to have warned you," Zenyatta chimed. "The face plate, after all, is intended to facilitate human interaction via imitation. Seeing behind it might be a touch startling." Nothing moved inside the non-face underneath the plate as he spoke -- his voice simply drifted into the air, like music playing from another room -- close by, but somehow distant at the same time. 

“Should I think of it like a mask?” Genji asked, and Zenyatta inclined his head very slightly and his array flickered in a manner that Genji had come to understand meant he was smiling.

“Think of it,” Zenyatta said, “exactly as it is.” As usual, Genji found Zenyatta’s response frustrating until he actually did as he was instructed and thought about it, and then it seemed very wise.

The thing that was the hardest to get used to, though, was definitely the sex. Genji was used to monks being celibate, and had at first assumed he was expected to leave such worldly desires behind while beneath the Shambali roof. It was easy enough at first, but as it turned out his new condition brought with it a lack of function and a sort of visceral disgust with his own physical body, but not a corresponding lack of desire. He missed it, and try as he might he could not erase that gnawing feeling of having lost something important with simple asceticism. 

However, being an order composed almost entirely of omnics, the Shambali had never thought to demand celibacy from their adherents. There was no real reason to, as omnics did not really possess anything resembling a libido to be reigned in, so there was nothing to give up; besides, their philosophy focused on the nature of the soul and the mind, with little to say in regards to the ways in which human beings might interact physically. As long as thought and motive were pure, what did it matter what the body did?

That did not mean, as it turned out, that omnics had absolutely no interest in the process. Quite the opposite, actually – Zenyatta had been the one to bring up the topic in the first place -- initially out of concern that Genji was keeping some distress from him, and after that it had seemed the natural progress of their relationship somehow. Far from being completely sexless, Zenyatta’s sheer enthusiasm for the process was often so overwhelming that it left Genji feeling small and unworthy in comparison, undeserving of kind of care and attention…a far cry from the casual flings of his past. Zenyatta wanted Genji to experience everything his cyborg form had to offer him, and honestly seemed lukewarm on the subject of reciprocation.

The thing was, omnics didn’t really have a sexual function, per se, unless they installed one on their own. They did enjoy being touched – or at least, Zenyatta did, very much so. Unlike with humans, though, it didn’t seem to be localized to a particular area of the body; instead, what Zenyatta liked best of all was the sensation of Genji – always Genji, as he never seemed even the slightest bit interested in doing this with anyone else – working his fingers in somewhere DEEP, stroking wires and probing the edges of backup ports buried far into Zenyatta’s body. Places that, as far as Genji could tell, weren’t necessarily meant to receive that kind of stimulation at all. Beneath the plating that protected him from the elements, he seemed dreadfully sensitive all over, regardless of where. Whatever sort of pleasure Zenyatta got out of Genji’s hesitant exploration didn’t seem to be exactly like human sexual pleasure – more like an adrenaline rush, perhaps – but Zenyatta clearly enjoyed it all the same, and started to suggest ways in which they could, perhaps, turn back-and-forth into something more simultaneous and mutual.

Once or twice, when Zenyatta had once again coaxed a toe-curling orgasm from the broken body that Genji was certain would never experience a pleasant feeling again, the omnic had made some comments regarding a desire to feel Genji reach the apotheosis of physical intimacy with his innermost parts. It maybe spoke to Zenyatta’s way of communicating and general view of the world that it took Genji the better part of a week to figure out that Zenyatta was saying, essentially, “I want you to come inside me".

That was last week. Now, Genji was laying with his back propped against the nest of cushions that served as his bed, naked and unarmored and with his cock aching for attention, and Zenyatta was lying between his legs and gently stroking the insides of his thighs, watching Genji’s every reaction with the kind of rapt fascination that most people reserved for their first time. The omnic’s curiosity and diligence ended up making him a worse tease than even the bossiest girl Genji had taken to bed in his playboy days. Genji squeezed his eyes shut; it was frustrating, certainly, but he wouldn’t rush Zenyatta for the world.

The quiet pneumatic hiss of Zenyatta’s faceplate hinging back brought Genji’s eyes open again. “Master…?” he asked softly, looking down to see two luminous white orbs tilted up towards him, nestled within the complex weave of wires and pistons and anchoring bolts that made up Zenyatta’s face behind the plate. As inhuman as it was, it still seemed to Genji to carry Zenyatta's kind expression -- beautiful and vulnerable and inscrutable all at the same time.

“Ah, Genji, beloved one,” Zenyatta said, and coming from anyone else this sort of thing would have sounded overblown, but Zenyatta was nothing if not sincere. Things Genji may have rolled his eyes at once sounded like the simple truth when Zenyatta said them. The omnic steadied himself with one metal hand against Genji’s thigh, and the other drifted to his cock, fingers playing lazily up and down the bottom of the shaft until Genji’s breath caught in his throat. “With your permission, of course, I’d–”

“Anything,” Genji murmured. "Anything you want."

“You didn’t even hear my proposal,” Zenyatta chided. "Please, my student, do not be so hasty." Genji squirmed a little under Zenyatta's hands, trying to convey that he wasn't being HASTY, he was being IMPATIENT, but he also laced his fingers behind Zenyatta's head to pull him a little closer. The back of his head was still covered with smooth metal, warm to the touch like flesh but solid and unyielding. Comforting, in a way. Stable. 

"I want you to fuck me." 

Genji was not expecting those words to come out of his master's mouth, and especially not in the same mild and gentle voice that he used to say everything else, and he was momentarily taken aback. "I...I'm not sure what--" 

"See? You ought not to run headlong into things before you are even certain what you are doing." Zenyatta's fingers coiled around his cock with a little more force and slowly -- slowly -- pressed the tip up against a taut section of wire exposed by the removal of his face plate. It was around where the mouth would be, on a human, but there was no obvious opening. Zenyatta's teasing had driven Genji to the point where even the firm press of wires against the head of his cock sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine.

"Are you certain," Genji breathed, his voice catching, "that it won't hurt you?" 

Zenyatta chuckled, a warm and bubbling sound. "Your concern is touching, my student, but I assure you that omnics are not as fragile as all that. Besides," he added, turquoise light flickering as he regarded Genji fondly, "I trust you." 

Genji hesitated a moment. Regardless of Zenyatta's reassurances, his interior certainly LOOKED fragile -- all exposed joints and thin tubing, everything laid open that was normally hidden away behind armor plating. Rather like Zenyatta himself, Genji thought. Gentle and delicate and somehow all the stronger for it. 

Genji leaned forward to gently kiss the top of his master's head and, with a small noise in the back of his throat, Genji eased himself inside Zenyatta with a slow care that bordered on agonizing. Zenyatta's smooth exterior was always warm to the touch, but the inside of him was fire-hot -- hotter the deeper Genji went, wires parting to let him inside and firm tubing pressing back against sensitive flesh. The position they were in was somewhat analogous to oral sex, but Genji had never felt anything that was less like a human mouth. His master's insides were dry but slick, coated with some nano-particle dry lubricant that kept every intricate joint turning, and the heat of it was close to burning -- almost on the edge of painful but never quite too much. And inside, every surface of Zenyatta's body hummed and vibrated with the incomprehensible mechanical processes that kept -- that MADE him alive, like a heartbeat that never faded but droned on in one endless thrum. Different from a human being -- strange, even bizarre perhaps -- and yet just as inviting.

The blue array on Zenyatta's head fluttered with delight. "Mm, beloved -- keep going. Fear not. You need not be so hesitant! I want more." Genji was shook from his momentary trance of bliss by the sound of Zenyatta talking so easily with a cock half buried in his mouth -- but of course, it wasn't in his mouth exactly, and an omnic didn't need a mouth to speak in any case. Zenyatta's voice was simply projected from somewhere in the vicinity of his face for the benefit of human beings, who were used to hearing speech that way; he didn't actually NEED his face or even his throat to talk, per se. And that meant Zenyatta could murmur gentle words to him even as he wrapped his fingers tight around the back of Genji's thighs and slid another burning inch down his cock. More than that, Genji could FEEL Zenyatta's every word like this, vibration turning speech into sensation, sound into pure pleasure.

It took all of Genji's self control not to simply thrust up into Zenyatta's head -- for all that his master had assured him there was no danger, Genji still couldn't bear to take the chance of harming him, and besides, it was a rather terrifying mental image for a human. But being inside Zenyatta like was like being assaulted on all sides by alien sensations he could barely take in, his cock enveloped in tight dry heat, the soft vibrato of whirring mechanisms and Zenyatta's gentle voice teasing him just enough to drive him wild.

Genji shifted position a bit, angling himself downwards -- towards where Zenyatta's throat might be, if he was built like an organic. Zenyatta responded by pushing himself upwards, towards Genji, burying Genji's cock all the way inside him until his exposed face was flush against Genji's stomach. Blue-green light bathed the curves of Genji's groin and belly and thighs, glinted off the place where his own metal parts were joined to ruined flesh. 

Not so long ago, he'd hated hated looked at himself, hated the artificial carbon-fiber spare parts grafted onto what was left of his own body. It felt cold, alien, WRONG to him. No machine, he thought, could possibly replace what he'd lost. And yet, here he was, cock buried deep inside his fully robotic lover who seemed no less eager for not being made of flesh and blood. Maybe he didn't fully understand exactly what Zenyatta was feeling now, but that didn't make this moment -- with Zenyatta murmuring yes, that's it, I love you, all of you, every INCH of you, all that you were and are despite taking Genji literally to the hilt inside him, with Genji himself panting and speechless but slowly and shallowly thrusting in and out of Zenyatta's hot and tangled interior -- any less amazing for it.

Not some half-made lab-created monster, not scrap metal grafted to a broken body, but an entire new life of sensation to explore. That was exactly what Zenyatta had always assured him the future would be like, and Genji had never been more convinced of it than right now. God, he could even look down at the join between his cybernetic leg and the remains of his thigh and somehow not feel like tearing the damn thing straight out of its socket. 

Genji hissed as he felt the tip of his cock press through a tight knot of wires until they parted, and he felt cool air breathe across the tip as it emerged from some open spot at the back of Zenyatta's neck, pressed tight against the structural column of his throat. Zenyatta's array flickered and he made a tiny, delighted whir in answer, sliding himself back so that Genji's cock disappeared again inside him, then pushing forward again so that Genji felt himself swallowed up by some other, deeper part of Zenyatta's throat, some labyrinthine tangle of rubber insulation and high-tech fiber that embraced him in tight, intricate coils every time Zenyatta made so much as the smallest movement. 

Genji's head tilted back helplessly as Zenyatta took control, moving his head and body up and down, stroking him off with his insides. It was all beginning to be a bit too much -- too hot, too tight, too solid and yet too soft and yielding at the same time -- and Genji could feel a climax beginning to build in the pit of his stomach. "M....master, I'm--I'm going to--" he warned, lacing his fingers behind Zenyatta's neck, brushing the curve of his titanium alloy spine with the pads of his thumb. 

"Oh! I am delighted to hear so, beloved student," Zenyatta said, and that -- the soft vibration that hummed through Zenyatta's entire body as he spoke, the warm flicker of lights from his forehead array, the gentle fondness in his voice that Genji could never hear without needing a moment to catch his breath -- that pushed Genji over the edge almost immediately, as much as he tried his best to hold out. Buried as deep inside Zenyatta as he could possibly go, Genji came so hard he was forced to stuff his clenched fist into his mouth to muffle and ecstatic cry (god forbid, of course, the other monks hear him carrying on like this. They seemed to at least turn a blind eye to his unusual relationship with Zenyatta, but if Genji disturbed their meditation with loud sex he'd never manage to live it down)

For a brief moment that seemed at once longer than Genji thought possible and far too short, there was nothing in the whole world except the two of them -- Genji and Zenyatta, student and master, metal and flesh and heat all tangled up like wires and veins into a knot of pure pleasure that tightened in Genji's throat. Still, as the monks were fond of saying, even the titanium bodies of omnics were fleeting, and thoughts even more so. The warm haze faded, and Genji slowly became aware again of the pillow at his back, the sting of the cold air in his lungs, and Zenyatta gently sliding backwards to prop himself up on his elbows. The omnic's movements didn't make a sound, exactly, but he could feel a soft vibration against his sensitized flesh; he gasped as his half-hard cock slid free of Zenyatta's throat and face, dragging past warm metal and wires on the way back out. 

There was no plating on Zenyatta's neck -- it was all exposed pistons and structural tubes, with no rigid coverings to restrict his movement -- and Genji could clearly see the wet track where his cock had plowed through his master's body. Wet, sticky white dripped down the interior of Zenyatta's throat, onto the shaft that approximated his collarbone, and the space just above where his chin would be if he were human was slick with sweat and fluid. It was like looking at a detailed diagram of exactly how they'd fucked, and the thought almost made Genji stir again. 

Zenyatta fondly stroked the inside of Genji's thighs, tracing the scars there. With no real preconceptions of what a human being ought to look like, Zenyatta had always thought the gnarled patches of discolored and raised skin that criss-crossed Genji's body were quite beautiful, though it had taken Genji a long time to believe Zenyatta when he said it. Calmly, Zenyatta reached up and pushed his faceplate back down until it clicked back into its customary place. Just like that, Zenyatta had his impassive and serene face back. For a moment the omnic ran his fingers thoughtfully through the thick fluid running out of his neck and down his chest in silent, bemused contemplation before Genji finally spoke. 

"That won't...hurt you, will it?" he asked. Part of him wondered if this was Zenyatta's idea of swallowing. "Having all that...inside...inside your..." Genji did not know exactly what to call the parts of Zenyatta he'd just fucked, so he simply trailed off and gestured to the structure of Zenyatta's throat.

"Nanomachine processes," Zenyatta replied with a small shrug and a reassuring flicker of his array. "Most advanced omnics have a dedicated network of nano-devices to break down foreign matter that bypasses our physical outer barriers. Or have you never wondered why we never need to clean our interiors?" 

"I hadn't...really thought about it," Genji said, and Zenyatta cocked his head slightly in that fond way of his. 

"Isn't it delightful," he said, "that we both have so much more to learn, then."  

Outside, the deep wordless thrum of the temple gong rang out, calling the monks to their meditations. Zenyatta pushed himself sitting with a small apologetic brush of his hand against Genji's cheek, dabbed the visible remains of their recent activities away with a corner of a blanket, and made to gather his clothes. 

"You aren't going to--I mean, like THAT--" Zenyatta cocked his head as Genji pushed sat up, pulling a cushion across his lap, suddenly feeling modest. 

"Nothing's visible." Zenyatta simply shrugged and hummed to himself as he pulled on the robes of his office, apparently considering the matter settled. Of course, Genji thought. What would an omnic care for human foibles like that -- this organic fluid is embarrassing, this is not. Why would he find it strange or repulsive to head outside with Genji's seed still clinging to his insides?

God, the thought was unbearably arousing and endearing all at once. At this rate, he'd be ready to go again the moment Zenyatta returned. Even still, he wanted, selfishly, for Zenyatta to stay a few moments longer and not be torn away by his temple duties. Of course, he would come back, but that moment of parting was always difficult, even if only for that moment. Genji had had so little that he wanted to hold on to, for so long, that it made him want to cling tight and never let go.  


"Something the matter, Genji?" Zenyatta asked, after a moment. Genji shook his head. 

"Nothing at all," he said. "Iris be with you, Master." 

Zenyatta bowed slightly. "The Iris is always with you, my most beloved student," he said, and went to join his brothers and sisters.