Chastity's Nook

Milo makes them the thing. Better still, Milo makes them the thing with only minimal questions asked, and even exhibits only mild academic curiosity in the experiment when Ashton’s circumspectness is shattered by Fresh Cut Grass trundling in and telling their housemate point-blank what this is all for.
“You two tell me how it goes, all right,” Milo pesters Ashton when the little contraption is complete. “Not, like, all the details, obviously, but, like, whether it works or not. Whether it gets you the results you want, or, I dunno, needs some tweaking for next time!”
In their defense, Ashton’s a little slow on the uptake thanks to Milo’s easy assumption that there will be a next time, but the end results is the same: Fresh Cut Grass beats them to the punch.
“Aww – thanks, Milo! You’re a pal,” they enthuse. And then they come for Ashton’s entire life all over again. “An’ if you hear anythin’ from us in here, like cryin’ or hollerin’, don’t you worry, I’ve consented to it!”
At this point Milo is standing by the door and Ashton is kneeling in the center of their room by the robot, but still, their gazes meet for one split second – time enough for Milo’s eyes to communicate what the fuck does that even mean and Ashton to think back, as hard as they can, oh my god I don’t fucking know, this is news to me too! – before the human lets out the most forced, fake-hearty laugh that Ashton has ever had to the dubious pleasure of hearing and darts out the door, slamming it shut behind themselves and yelling for them to be safe as they pound back down the stairs. After a comedically short moment, their own door downstairs slams shut too.
“Wuss,” Ashton grumbles, shaking their own head a bit to clear out the shock. “Didja really have to tell them all that, Letters? You’re making me sound like, oh, I dunno, a killer or something.”
“Nah, establishing consent verbally sets a good precedent,” Fresh Cut Grass muses, scooting over to join them. “Even if you’re a sadist who’s into playin’ with that kinda thing – which is a set of preferences I think I woulda noticed earlier, anyway – it’s important to discuss boundaries and establish expectations the first time you’re with someone.”
Fuck.
“Fuck,” Ashton whispers, with real feeling. “Some days I wish I could get into that shiny head of yours, Letters. Just to see what makes you tick in there.”
The plates of Fresh Cut Grass’s face don’t move much, but still, somehow, Ashton can tell that they’re smiling. “And if I knew how to make that happen, Ashton, then you’d be welcome inside me.”
Ok, for crying out loud.
“Enough, enough, fuck.” Instead of dwelling on that for any length of time, Ashton fumbles with the contraption Milo has made them. “Tell me what you think of this, ok?”
When they hold it up for Fresh Cut Grass’s inspection, Milo’s gizmo is a little patch that’s smooth and malleable on one side and rougher, with tiny bristles, on the other. Two small cables snake up from the bristled side, tapering off into little cups of the same smoothness as the first side: when pressed to a metal like Fresh Cut Grass’s body, Milo had explained, the smooth side and the cups will adhere right to that surface until peeled away. Milo hadn’t had a lot of specific directions beyond “try it out!” but luckily, Ashton thinks they can come up with something – after all, they’re a barbarian, not a boor. Letters’ first time is going to be focused on them and their experience, not like Ashton just rubbing one out on top of them or something.
(Though… that is also a mental image to maybe revisit later, because whew.)
Anyway. Here and now, they ask Fresh Cut Grass quietly, “You ready?”
“With you, always,” Fresh Cut Grass responds, as quick and easy as if that display of total trust cost them nothing at all to offer. Whew. Ashton can feel a familiar low tingle already starting to build in their own body. “Anythin’ I should know before we get started?”
Fuck. Um. Probably? “You can do whatever you want,” Ashton says slowly, thinking about this. “Touch me or not, it’s all good, go for whatever you feel like doing; I don’t mind either way, but I’m gonna keep my clothes on for this one because we’re focusing on you. Although – come to think of it, make sure you talk to me, buddy, because I’m used to going by facial expressions and reactions, and yours are, uh, kinda different from most. But that’s it on my side – do what feels good to you and talk to me as we go.”
Shit, still feels like they’re missing something. Uh… Oh. “And’s there anything you want me to know?”
“Nope!” Fresh Cut Grass says serenely. “I trust you implicitly, Ashton. You’ll make this great.”
Well. Ok. Fuck.
“Fuck. All right then. C’mere a little closer, Letters.”