He sometimes saw the scientists do it, a small pressing of their faces together then they'd lean back and smile gently, acting all bubbly and holding each other's hands. It seemed nice. Though when he'd ask what it was they'd get rather cross with him and shoo him out as fast as they could. Though to be fair to them most of the scientists did that with anything he said but this one in particular stuck him as odd; it was as if they took some personal dislike to him watching them press their faces together.
After the whole "neurotoxin thing that wasn't his fault" some of the personalities found it upon themselves to actually try and talk to one another, and because of the sheer nature of how conversations between scattered minds work of course the face pressing came up. None of them really had a good clue as to what it actually was, except Rick. Rick however also departed some knowledge to Wheatley that he wasn't too inclined to hear and he actually thought was rather revolting. Pistons and plugs. Eventually Wheatley put it all as fabrication from Rick much like several other things the airless greened personality had said.
Every once and a while during the nights of aperture he'd hold his hands like the scientists did and thought that it must be nice to do with another person. This even was few and far between however. Most of the time he actually rather despised all the other personalities. Despite wanting to spend every hour of the day with them as well; they were all a little like that.
Only when he found Chell had he actually wanted to get near enough to a human to do any actual touching of any sort, and was thrilled when she complied in carrying him. After all that however, a mix of being crushed and doped up on painkillers and finally getting plugged into the mainframe any actual intent of being near her was pretty much forgotten. Afterwards of course he was filled mainly of hatred towards her and any want of being near her was far from forgotten rather it was completely replaced by a seething detest and loathing.
Outside, covered in dirt and seeing the sky for the first time, Chell's fists were rebuking him far harsher than any words could possibly have done. His bleeding trembling form merely cowering beneath her and the weight she could bring down upon him with each blow. Regret from all the wrongs hitting him with each strike along with her disgust. She left him there. He followed regardless.
The months slowly changed from him sleeping outside her broken into house, to in the garage of the place that was slowly becoming her home. From the garage he moved onto a pile of towels in the kitchen after a bad enough storm left him crying and she didn't want to deal with him any further. From there a month later he finally got to the couch where she resigned that he could stay.
Enough apologies, beatings, and time later she forgave him.
It was two years months when he asked her. She furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, closing the book she was reading and got off the couch, leaving him for the night.
Later he asked again with a similar response.
Somehow he found himself holding his hands more and more often, his mind filled with what the scientists did, and all that Rick had told him so long ago. Every time he thought of her, his chest hurt and he got strangely nervous. If his heart could beat he was sure it would have been pounding at certain points. Yet she still wouldn't answer him.
The day came where she did it though. It was light, on the top of his head before she went to bed. He sat in that position all night, replaying it in his head and wishing she would have stayed longer, give him more of whatever it was that she gave him.
The next night was the same, and he grabbed her wrist as she walked off, pulling her back to him. Once more he asked what that was, telling her how much he enjoyed them, and how he couldn't stop thinking of him and her and doing that. She turned a strange color of pink that he rather enjoyed. She gently took his hand out of hers and went to her room, leaving him on the couch again for that night.
Chell got up the next morning to an eager Wheatley waiting on the couch. He wanted an answer as to what the face pressing is and he told her he was adamant that he wouldn't let it alone till she told him. She gently sat on the couch, taking his hands in hers. He thought he quite liked where this was going. Gently, slowly, her lips met his forehead again. He let in a sharp breath, not realizing he had been holding it. She guided his lips to meet her forehead and he made a short "pbbbt" noise immediately regretted it. She laughed and pulled her body to meet his, pressing them together and wrapping her arms around him.
He liked that. He liked that a lot. Immediately after he decided he liked it he wrapped his arms around her as well and shoved his face into her shoulder. she did the same. After a while of this she brought his head back up and pressed her lips to his. They were soft yet resistant, and he very decidedly wanted more. As he leaned in however she stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking her head.
"later" she said.
Simply later.