This part is optional. I finished the fic without this scene so that it could be read however the reader wants it. If you would like to read this scene and take it with the original nineteen chapters, that is fine by me. If you would rather not, that's also okay. Consider this a little bonus!
I should also like to mention that this part is NSFW. If that makes you uncomfortable, you can ignore this chapter.
The days grew tranquil. They grew closer.
If the weather wasn't sour, Chell and Wheatley went scavenging around the town. They managed to make it to the other end one day, and found more wheat fields that stretched out far past the streets. A lump formed in Chell's throat, and she turned away and promptly headed in the direction of the house while Wheatley followed, calling after her.
That night, Chell sat on the couch, polishing off her dinner while Wheatley played with a brightly-colored cube next to her.
"Are we alone?" he blurted out suddenly.
Chell glanced at him and set her plate down on the floor.
"Because the town, it's…" He held the cube out in front of him and examined his work. "There's just wheat fields. Everywhere." He put the cube down by his feet and folded his hands, looking into the fire. "We're the only people here."
Chell picked her plate back up and moved into the kitchen. Wheatley followed her, turning on his flashlight so she could put her dish in the sink. The last light bulb in the kitchen had gone out long ago, and once the sun went down, Chell had to rely on Wheatley to provide light.
He followed her out of the kitchen and turned off his flashlight. She sat down on the couch and rested her forehead in her palms. Wheatley sat down next to her and curled an arm around her, pulling her close. She buried her face in his neck.
"I know, love," he said as she started to shake. "I know."
When she finished and was nothing more than a small, shivering mess in his arms, he put his hand on her cheek and gently pushed her head up. Chell opened her eyes and stared at him, lips pressed thin in an attempt to keep more tears from escaping. She sniffled.
He rubbed his nose against hers and pulled back, looking at her with a worried frown.
As she sat staring at him, she realized that, if there was no one in the town, Wheatley was all she had. They were alone, just as he had guessed.
She leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. He relaxed.
Then he kissed her, and she found herself kissing him strongly, pulling him close with an intensity she thought she was too tired from crying to have. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
He hunched his shoulders, then ended the kiss. "Does that make you feel better?"
She held out a hand, palm down, and tilted it side-to-side. Wheatley nodded.
"Glad I could help."
He began to leave the couch when Chell caught hold of the sleeve of his jumpsuit. Wheatley turned to her, eyes wide; at the sight of his confused expression, Chell tugged once. He sat back down.
"I'm not sure what you-" He was cut off when Chell placed a finger to his lips. When the sentence had died in his throat and he was staring at her in silence, she leaned forward and kissed him again, more gently than before.
He made a small noise and leaned into the kiss, tilting his head slightly; she could feel him smile. Her hands pressed against his chest, and she found them wandering, feeling their way along the smooth fabric of the jumpsuit.
Wheatley reached out and put her hands on her waist. Chell felt a spark of warmth shoot through her.
Her hands traveled up to his hair and smoothed it back. He pulled away, face still inches from hers; a nervous laugh escaped him.
"What's gotten into you?" he asked.
She immediately removed her hands from him and held them up. His hands stayed at her waist.
"No, I mean…" He bit his lip at her fearful expression. "I meant to say that I didn't expect you to be so energetic after crying. It's very unusual."
Chell slowly lowered her hands.
"I-it's a lovely surprise, really. And I would love it if you continued. But only if you want to."
It took her a second to register his words, but when she did, she slowly lowered her arms onto his shoulders. She patted him once, and Wheatley's frown was replaced by a wide smile, which Chell returned.
"Don't be shy," he said. "It's unlike you."
She felt around his shoulders and down his back; even through the jumpsuit, she could feel where his skin ended and the black plastic of his spine began. Wheatley closed his eyes and let out a satisfied hum.
"Could you unzip the jumpsuit for me?" he asked suddenly.
Chell complied, and to her surprise, Wheatley slipped completely out of the torso of the jumpsuit, leaving his chest, back, and arms exposed. A pink glow appeared in his cheeks when Chell gave him a questioning look.
"It just…it feels better when there's no jumpsuit there. The, uh…" He reached forward and tapped her spine. Chell nodded.
When her hands touched his skin, he leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, a lazy smile on his face. "That's wonderful," he whispered. He gripped her waist tightly as she let both of her hands trail up and down his back, exploring the space there. Dozens of wires, dozens of ports with strange names, some in languages she didn't recognize. She rested her head on his shoulder and drummed her fingers up and down his back. He laughed, and Chell affectionately rubbed his upper back in response.
He pulled away and took her by her shoulders. "They told me this was bad to ask of female test subjects," he said, "but can I…?" He pinched the shirt between his fingers and tugged on it.
Chell froze. A dull flush crept across her face, and she tore her eyes from him, focusing on a patch on the ground.
"I want to do the same to you," he said quietly. When she didn't look up, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me." He pulled his hands away, but Chell took them and guided them down to the bottom of her shirt.
He looked up at her with uncertainty. Chell bit her lip and nodded, and he pulled the shirt away. She took her bra off and let it fall to the floor.
Wheatley sat back on the couch, unabashedly staring at her exposed chest, her shirt balled up in his hands. After a few seconds, Chell slid her arms over herself and looked away.
"No, no!" He gently pried her arms away and moved to catch her eye. The shirt fell, abandoned, to the floor. "It's alright, Chell, really. No need to be afraid."
His eyes traveled down to her chest and he reached out, gently running his hands over her. His tenderness made her forget her fear, and she looked down to watch his hands skim over her stomach, her sides, her back. His palms hovered over her breasts, and he hesitated.
"I don't know what these are," he said slowly. "But I was told not to touch them."
Chell reached out and placed his hands on top of them, making him gasp in surprise. He leaned forward and curiously felt the soft flesh, pressing and squeezing. At one point, he began to pull, and Chell winced in pain. He muttered an apology and kissed her briefly before re-focusing on her chest.
She put her hands over his and guided his fingers to her nipples.
"Oh, you like it when I do that!" he exclaimed when she let her head loll to the side. The tension left her shoulders, and she released his hands, grinning. "Does that feel good to you?"
She nodded. He caressed her, eventually leaning forward and placing soft kisses on her neck and along her shoulders as he went. Eventually his hands moved to her back and raced up and down her spine.
He pulled her onto his lap for better leverage, and Chell leaned against him. His body was warm and his touch was gentle along her back, and she began to forget that she was in an abandoned town with no other people around.
Wheatley pulled back and kissed her forehead, hands traveling to her breasts again. She took him by the wrists.
"What's wrong?" he asked, but she placed a consoling hand on his chest and pointed at the stairs. His gaze followed her finger before he looked back to her with a furrowed brow. "What's upstairs?"
She slid off his lap and tugged on his wrist. He obediently stood, keeping hold of the upper half of his jumpsuit and waiting while she put out the fire. Her grip was firm as she took him by the hand and led him upstairs and into her room.
In the dark, Chell sat on the bed, leaned against the headboard, and gestured for him to join her. He climbed onto the bed; she pointed to his boots, and he removed them.
"I thought the couch was fine," he said.
She gestured towards the wide space on the bed, and he nodded. "More space," he said, then chuckled, stopping some ways away from her, suddenly looking nervous despite his confidence downstairs. He was aware that something was about to happen, but judging by the sheepish downturn of his eyes, he didn't know what. For a second, he turned on his flashlight, but Chell waved a hand at him, and he turned it back off.
Chell brought him close. She ran a hand through his hair and let her eyes roam across his chest. In the dark, the glow of his torso was vivid and painted her own skin a soft blue. At her touch, the pulsing of the fine lines under his skin slowed to a languid pace; she looked up and saw that Wheatley had closed his eyes and was tilting his head upwards, leaning it into her hand with a smile.
She ruffled his hair and let her hands travel down to the bottom portion of his jumpsuit. He opened his eyes and watched her hands go, and at the sight of her tugging on the fabric, he shakily exhaled. "Go ahead. It's alright."
Chell helped him struggle out of the bottom portion of his jumpsuit. She turned and tossed it carelessly over the side of the bed.
Seeing him naked in front of her, she began to panic. She had never done anything like this in her life. She had always been alone, and though the idea of physical intimacy excited her, she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She didn't know how much knowledge the engineers had programmed into him, and it was already clear that he wasn't going to leave, but she found herself worrying that she'd disappoint him.
Chell shook herself and focused on him. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward and hooked two fingers under the waist of her pants. "You as well?"
It took her a moment, but she finally nodded and let him help her out of her clothes. Her pants and underwear joined his jumpsuit on the floor.
Wheatley took her in. "Man alive. Look at you!"
He leaned over her and let his hands wander across her skin. She arched when he met the place between her legs.
"Another good spot for you?" he asked. Chell nodded and put her hand over his, guiding him.
Eventually, Wheatley figured out what she wanted, and Chell let her hands fall away. She relaxed against the mattress, gasping when he began to rain kisses on her chest and stomach. The warmth from before began to build, spreading anywhere his hands and mouth went.
"I like this," he muttered, smiling, against her skin. "I like seeing you like this. You're happy. It feels tremendous, love. You have no idea."
At this she pushed his hands away and took him by the shoulders, moving him so he was lying where she was. She began to kiss slowly along the glowing blue lines of his body. Wheatley laughed again, this time with a note of giddy excitement in his voice.
She reached downwards and, pushing her shyness aside, hesitantly began to touch him.
Wheatley turned his head and groaned. The intense blue in his chest grew brighter. "That's perfect."
He wasn't disgusted or frightened.
Chell's stomach did little backflips at the sight of him writhing on the sheets, and she increased her pace.
"You're stunning, love. Don't stop." Words flowed easily from him. "This feels wonderful and it feels more wonderful because it's you doing it, and I…"
His voice began to taper off as his breathing sped up, and Chell took the moment to remove her hand, leaving him disappointed.
Wheatley opened his eyes and looked at her with a mixture of hurt and frustration. "Why'd you stop?" he squeaked. "That was-"
Chell held out a finger. He looked at her sideways, the frustration giving way to curiosity as she lied down next to him on her back.
Wheatley rolled on his side and gave her another questioning look. She took him by the arm and guided him on top of her. He supported himself with his hands and hovered above her.
His eyes roamed rapidly over her face, his brow creased with sudden worry. "I don't understand," he muttered, and looked away from her.
She reached up and caressed his face. He turned back to her. "I don't know what I'm feeling," he said. "It's strange." He shifted back and forth on his palms. "I want you, and every time I look at you like this, I feel…warm. Hot, even, you could say."
He looked down at her body, then curled his back and looked down at himself. "We're so different, you and I." He looked to her again. "Are all humans built like you?"
Chell shook her head.
"Then why…?" He stuttered and trailed off into silence.
She moved her hand downward and gently guided him between her legs. He watched her face closely, curious and a little fearful as to what she was about to do.
Chell beckoned, encouraging him to push. He did, and, with some resistance, he slid inside her.
A look of realization dawned on his face. "Oh. Oh. That's….they're meant to work together!"
She soundlessly laughed, and hooked her legs above him, hands on his hips. She pushed his hips back and pulled them into to their original position. Wheatley caught on quickly and, with a desperate whine, began to move on his own.
Despite her guiding him, she had little idea of what to do; she was more interested in getting his cheeks to flush pink, his voice to catch in his throat, his eyelids to flutter shut. He pulled her up into a hug, and Chell clung to his shoulders, her nails scrabbling against his skin and leaving gentle dents in the plastic as they went. His arms were hooked behind her back, supporting her, and he was whispering.
"Don't let me stop," he begged. "You're so beautiful like this. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I've never done this before, but look how well we're doing now. I can't-" His words disappeared into heavy breathing that ghosted against her shoulders and left goosebumps. His pace increased.
She buried her face in his neck and squeezed her eyes shut. They were lucky it was cold outside, else she would have been sweating, and that would have wreaked havoc on the open circuits on his back. But she felt warm, very warm, and for a few moments the world became just them, and her focus turned only to him and the things he was doing to her. The heat in her lower stomach increased, and she wished she could speak and tell him how well he was doing, how he was making her feel fluttery and happy and excited and all manner of other things she couldn't put a name to, how the loneliness went away when he was with her.
She opened her eyes and nuzzled his neck.
Then he whimpered and stopped suddenly, his back arching underneath her hands. The glow in his chest became almost blindingly bright.
Then the warmth in her stomach exploded, and she arced backward, the crown of her head brushing against the headboard. Her mouth opened in a silent cry.
They fell together against the bed, breathing heavily. Chell traced circles along his shoulder as she came back to the room and re-focused. The heat in her eventually subsided, replacing itself with a languid, happy feeling.
Wheatley withdrew from her and, his hands shaking, used the sheets to clean himself up. Chell laid against the bed, completely still, and watched him.
He let his hands fall to the bed, avoiding her gaze. The flush in his cheeks hadn't left.
She crawled over to him and took his hands. After a pause, she leaned forward and rubbed his nose against his cheek before planting a kiss there. He looked to her in surprise.
"Did you feel that?" he asked. She nodded.
Their noses touched.
"Because that was…I…I've never felt that wonderful in my life. Ever. And you…"
Then he grinned and threw his arms around her. "You are spectacular, Chell!"
She tapped her finger against his shoulder (you too, Wheatley) and let a wave of happiness wash over her. Her shoulders shook with laughter.
He pressed his palms against hers and let their fingers intertwine, bringing his face near hers again. "Thank you."
The next kiss was quiet and easy, their lips sliding against each other, their hands squeezing and releasing like a shared heartbeat.