Orchid's Bloom

by Wolveria

He brushed his pale fingertips against her left cheekbone, his eyes slightly moving as they trailed over her face, taking in every detail. That's how they got their names, after all. They observed everything – humans most of all. (Observer/Original Female Character, Year: 2036)

As soon as she saw him, she knew she was going to be his.

It was not a romantic notion – it was a practical one born of intuition and observation. He entered the underground club with a slow, purposeful stride, his dark eyes scanning the brightly-lit bar/lounge from beneath the brim of his grey fedora. His suit was as crisp and nondescript as his features, except for one key facet. That was the first thing that struck her: his eyes.

Most of them had pale, blue eyes, dubbed "tuna fish eyes" by those stupid enough to speak, let alone think such things. Unless you were in a Truth Church, no one was safe within the confines of their own mind. It was why Orchid had stuck to the human-only establishments for so long. But with the Resistance making it dangerous to work in venues run by the Loyalists, she had decided to bite the bullet and work in one of their clubs.

She avoided them whenever possible, and hadn't worked at the Epicenter Club for very long, so how Orchid knew this one would choose to spend his evening with her, she wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it was pure, animal instinct of sensing the apex predator in the room. Or perhaps it was some loftier reason, like the way his dark eyes met hers from across the room and sent a jolt down her spine – a sensation that was not without fear.

The man, if he could be called that, didn't waste time; he made his way from across the glittering bar, his pace methodical yet focused like the patient movements of a shark. That's what she reminded her of. More shark than tuna were the Observers – all sleek, grey, and deadly.

Orchid tried not to shift her balance or tug at her dress as the suited stranger approached. Her attire was much more subdued than most of the escorts. Many of the new girls wore colorful dresses, but Orchid noticed the more experienced entertainers wore subtle, classy ensembles. This made perfect sense to her; the new girls were acting as if their clientele were human, while the older ones knew better. After all, what use did the Observers have for flashy hues or artful lines of fabric? Aesthetic beauty was wasted on them, as it would be wasted on an actual shark.

But this Observer had use for her. Once he was within a few feet of her, Orchid gave him her most pleasant smile.

"Good evening, sir. How may I—"

"Come."

That was all the Observer said before he seized her wrist and began to lead her away. His grip was firm, almost to the point of pain, and it was inherently rough in that it brokered no disobedience. She was forced to follow or she would have been pulled off her feet and probably bodily dragged across the club.

Orchid shot a quick glance around the main room, but Rick was nowhere to be found. Sometimes he interceded on behalf of the escorts when one of the Observers got especially grabby, but he wasn't here to save her now. She entertained the idea of digging in her heels and demanding he treat her with a modicum of decency, but what was the point? She wasn't there to be treated as a person. Inside or outside of the club, a human's lot was the same: Obey or die.

The Observer pulled her down a side hallway, and she knew where he was taking her. Every door they passed, each leading to a private room, her gut twisted into more and more intricate shapes. The rooms were for nondescript "entertainment" purposes since prostitution was still technically illegal, but everyone knew the reason occupants sought such privacy.

He pulled her into a vacant room and released her to close the door. Orchid had barely enough time to look at the room (minimalist, desaturated colors, nothing round or soft besides the King-sized bed) before the Observer spoke, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Get undressed."

The uncaring words were a sharp contrast to the pleasant, baritone voice at her back. She froze. Fear controlled her body as her heart pounded in her chest, an icy cold trickle of terror sliding down her spine. She could hear the rustle of cloth against fabric as he began to remove his own clothing, and her breath moved in and out of her chest like a frightened, cornered animal. Her eyes strayed back to the bed, the benign silver sheets appearing as lethal as a pool of mercury.

I can't do this, she thought, fear gripping her throat like a hand. I can't do this. I can't do this.

There was sudden, unexpected heat on her back, breath tickling the hairs along her neck. Orchid was still paralyzed with terror, but she could feel him standing so close his body heat was radiating the space between them. And then, she felt something else. It was a small thing at first, like a whisper in her ear. There was a growing presence in her mind, a sensation that someone else was there, and she was not alone with her thoughts.

"You are afraid."

The Observer said this as a statement of fact, and to his mind he most likely thought he was simply observing. But to her, it was an invasion of a magnitude so profound she lashed out. She remained unmoving, but Orchid blocked her thoughts so harshly she could almost visualize the iron door slamming down; the portcullis barring the invaders from entry to the castle.

Her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. Orchid spun around, desperation on her lips as she pled with the bald stranger.

"I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to. Please, don't report me. I swear it won't happen again. I…" Orchid trailed off as the Observer continued to watch her with his strange eyes. For a human, they would have been perfectly normal, but to see such warm brown eyes staring out from one of them, it was almost more unsettling than the pale blue "dead fish" eyes.

The Observer had removed his jacket and hat, and he looked… different, somehow. She wasn't sure if the change was agreeable or not, but he appeared less armored, more vulnerable. And that was not a descriptor she would have ever used for one of their kind.

It also gave her the opportunity to realize how physically large he was, with wide shoulders and long legs, and the realization made her hard-swallow.

After a long moment of him staring uncomfortably into her eyes, he finally responded, "I will not report you." She should have felt relief at her close call; no one that was wiped ever regained the destroyed memories, and they said if you were wiped enough times, you started to lose who you are.

Orchid should have been grateful, but instead she was still afraid, every fiber of her being trembling in distress at what she had to do. At what he would force her to do. It was this thought in mind that made her flinch when he raised a hand toward her face. But the Observer didn't strike her, or grab her, or harm her in any way. He brushed his pale fingertips against her left cheekbone, his eyes slightly moving as they trailed over her face, taking in every detail. That's how they got their names, after all. They observed everything – humans most of all.

"What is your name?" he asked, as if they were simply having a pleasant conversation.

"Orchid," she responded with trembling lips as the back of his finger caressed down the side of her jaw. She expected him to demand her real name, not her stage name, but instead he tilted his head, studying her as if she was a curiosity to be unraveled.

"Like the flower," he observed clinically, even as his finger moved along the bottom of her chin.

"Y-yes," she stammered, the unexpected sensation of his finger starting to distract her. "What… what about you? What's your name?" She didn't much care what it was, but if he kept talking, it meant they weren't doing other things.

"Flynn," he replied simply. She blinked, not having expected such a non-threatening name. A human name. But then her attention was drawn back to his contact against her skin as he now trailed a finger down the center of her throat. Orchid tried to hold herself together and not flinch away from his touch. It wasn't unpleasant per se, but she didn't understand why he was touching her this way. Observers were insensate to most stimuli, and it was the reason they ate heavily-spiced foods. Some said they couldn't even feel pain. Orchid wasn't sure if that was true, but there was no reason to believe they enjoyed physical contact the way humans did. Except for the glaring fact that the club wouldn't exist if the strange, bald men didn't derive some kind of pleasure while in the intimate company of humans.

In fact… rumor had it that some of the women from the clubs were disappearing. Her pulse jumped at the thought of the Observer grabbing her and dragging her away, her disappearance noticed but not mourned. She had no one to leave behind, no one to miss her.

The Observer placed the palm of his hand against the base of her throat, and she realized he was feeling her racing heartbeat through his hand. A small crease had appeared between his eyebrows, as if he was either concentrating or what he was observing was troubling him.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked as he raised his dark eyes to meet hers, honest curiosity in his voice.

He doesn't know, she realized. He really has no idea.

"I… I'm not afraid."

"You are lying," he said with a slight tilt of his head. It wasn't said as an accusation, simply a matter of truth. "Why are you afraid?"

When he asked a second time, she felt the question as well as heard it. That presence in the back of her thoughts had returned, and her mind automatically beginning to build barriers to protect itself. But he swatted aside, so completely, her feeble attempts at thwarting his intrusion that she realized he had only backed away to begin with because he had chosen to do so. She couldn't stop him; her attempts to mentally fend him off were laughable and pathetic.

Orchid squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable pain and discomfort that came with being read. Observers used only as much restraint as was needed to keep the person's mind intact, but other than that, they were rough and careless with their mental intrusions. Now would be no different, so she waited for her thoughts to be laid before the being that could barely be considered human.

But this Observer… Flynn… he did not tear open her thoughts like a hapless child with an old book. Instead, his touch across her mind was as light as his fingers: methodical, careful, curious, and almost… respectful. Orchid slowly opened her eyes, finding herself staring at his black tie. Her gaze moved upwards, hesitating at his mouth before finally bringing them upwards to make eye contact. He was still staring at her, head slightly cocked as if physically listening to the thoughts running through her mind.

"You are afraid… of me."

There was little point in lying, especially with her mind connected to his.

"Yes. I'm very… very afraid of you," she admitted with a tremble of her lips. His palm was still loosely splayed against her collarbone, but now he moved it upwards along her throat until he cupped the side of her jaw, his thumb moving across her cheek.

"You need not be," the Observer stated as he stepped closer, their chests almost touching as he ran his fingers through her hair. The unexpected movement caused goosebumps to prickle the skin of her arms and neck, and she shivered as he leaned forward. His warm breath ghosted across her lips as he added in a low voice, "I will not harm you."

Orchid was not given the chance to respond as Flynn closed the difference, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her flush against the front of his chest and hips. It was a swift, succinct movement, leaving her breathless and feeling something other than fear as heat flooded her body. She half-expected him to kiss her, but the Observer simply stared down at her, one hand between her shoulder blades while the other was placed on the small of her back. She was pressed so firmly against him that she could feel the hard lines of his stomach and the solid muscles of his chest.

Something stirred and awoke inside her, and an unexpected vision popped into her head. She found herself visualizing what those hard muscles would feel like against her bare skin, hot and moving and reflective with sweat. Orchid imagined, for a fleeting moment, what it would feel like to be filled by him. Arching her back under him, moaning as loudly as she wanted, focusing on her own pleasure instead of having to worry about satisfying a man's ego.

And then she felt something else – something foreign, not coming from her own mind, and it took her a moment to figure out what it was. It was… surprise. That's when Orchid remembered the Observer was still in her mind, passively reading her thoughts as she fantasized about… well… fucking him. It was his surprise she was feeling. She looked up at him, afraid she had crossed some unspoken line, but all she saw in return was the most focused look she had seen from one of their kind, made all the more intense by his dark brown eyes.

The Observer took the zipper of her black, sleek cocktail dress, and pulled it downward in one swift motion. He slipped the dress off her shoulders and she let out a small gasp as the cooled air hit her heated, bare skin. He stepped back, arm's length away as he studied her nearly naked body. Suddenly, she wanted to know what his expression would be like when he saw all of her. Orchid reached back and unclipped her bra, pulling it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground.

The way his eyes studied her, with an intense curiosity that was beyond a man's lustful, primitive gaze, made her flush rather than tremble. The Observer traced and examined every line, curve, and mark of her body, as if he was committing it to memory. Perhaps it should have made her feel like a bug under a microscope, but it made her feel revered. Like she was a work of art, worthy of observation and study. It was exhilarating.

Once the visual examination was done, the Observer stepped closer again, mere inches away as he met her eyes. There was a question in them, and she could feel an echo of that question in her mind. Orchid answered his unspoken inquiry by taking one of his hands. Her fingers slightly shook, but it was not fear that made them unsteady. She placed his palm on the swell of her hip. His skin was even warmer on the more vulnerable parts of her kept hidden under clothing, and now other parts of her began to respond as his hand squeezed her hip. Her nipples, already perked by the cool air, hardened further in anticipation, and a tingling heat came to life between her legs.

Orchid could still sense him there, just on the periphery of her thoughts, and she found it didn't bother her. In fact, she wanted him to know what she was feeling. Maybe then she could catch a glimpse into his psyche. Did Observer experience lust? Desire? Did they have needs of the flesh? She knew he could see the questions in her mind, and a small part of her found it tantalizing. The Observers were normally so clinical and emotionless, and the idea of one being inundated with a woman's horny thoughts was both somewhat funny and incredibly hot.

She found her answer almost immediately. Flynn pulled her forward, pinning her against his body almost roughly as his firm hands began to explore her bare skin. Along her back, over her shoulders, down her sides and over her hips and ass, his fingers bore down where before they had been a feather-light touch by comparison. The sensation left her feeling almost punch-drunk, overwhelmed by the methodical yet thorough exploration of his fingertips.

Orchid gave her first, breathy moan when the Observer's hands brushed over her breasts. He paused then, head slightly cocked to the side, and then he went back to the place he had garnered the reaction in the first place. She pressed her lips together, but another moan escaped her as his fingers rubbed over her erect nipples. He gave them a few more test passes, before he rubbed his thumbs over the peaks of her breasts, making the heat between her thighs burn hotter.

Please, she silently begged. Please…

Suddenly, one of his hands moved off her breast and traveled downward, brushing across her stomach and cupping her hot, sensitive mound. It was impossible to stifle the needy moan that escaped her lips. She realized the Observer must have heard her mental plea. His dark eyes never left hers, watching her reactions while the curious expression on his face never changed. Even when he slipped two of his fingers between her folds and rubbed against her aroused clit, and she gripped the front of his white dress shirt to keep her trembling knees from collapsing, his expression remained the same. He flicked his eyes downward to note the desperate grip she had on him, creasing his crisp shirt, but other than that, he simply watched as Orchid slowly came apart in his hands.

She realized this Observer was a fast learner. That or he paid close attention to the carnal thoughts and needs that flashed across her mind. He teased her opening with a brush of his fingers, but for the most part, he used his fore- and middle finger to massage her clit with a rhythm that was quickly hurtling her toward the edge. Orchid had to hold onto him, her hands moving up to his shoulders and digging in to hold her upright as her legs threatened to buckle.

"W-wait," she stammered, needing to catch her breath. Almost before she had completed the word, the Observer stopped rubbing her clit and moved his hand away from her. He searched her eyes for an indication of why she had asked him to stop, and she was about to speak when she noticed the crease between his eyebrows was back. She decided it was either concern or worry that put it there, and she couldn't help but give a small, breathless laugh.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, perfectly composed, as if he hadn't just given her the best finger-fucking of her life. And that was saying something, considering she hadn't even orgasmed yet.

"I just… got a little overwhelmed," Orchid answered, still panting a little as she used his solid chest for balance as she leaned against him. He didn't seem to mind. "I need to catch my breath, for a moment."

"Of course," he responded reasonably, and Orchid had to fight down the giggle that wanted to come out. Being sexual with an Observer was kind of bizarre and strange and really fucking hot, all at the same time. Or maybe it was just this particular Observer. She wasn't sure why he was so different, but he seemed more interested in pleasuring humans than in oppressing them.

At that last thought, Orchid did giggle aloud, and she thought with a mixture of amusement and alarm, Oh my God, I really am in a haze from being finger-banged by an Observer.

Flynn, who had been watching her during this time, asked, "Are you all right?" Orchid shook her head, not knowing where to even begin. Even his passive glance of her thoughts seemed to leave him confused as to her strange state of mind.

"I'm fine. Great, actually. I…" she trailed off, thinking for a moment. She still wasn't completely recovered, and she wasn't quite sure if she was ready to continue on, but that didn't mean she couldn't explore this interesting situation in other ways.

Orchid finally released her grip on his shoulders, feeling oddly shy as she took his hand and led him toward the bed. She was still very aware of how naked she was, and how he was practically fully-clothed, but that didn't bother her as much as it probably should. In fact, the muscles between her thighs tightened at the realization that she was completely nude and alone with an Observer – one who seemed keen on exploring and manipulating her body to study her reactions.

Now it was time for her to make a few observations of her own.

"Can you, um… sit on the edge of the bed?" she asked somewhat timidly, not comfortable just giving a client orders. The Observer studied her for a moment and then followed her instructions, placing himself on the bed. He rested his hands on his thighs, his back straight and legs spread slightly apart. She had seen that same posture hundreds of times from hundreds of Observers, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"What would you like me to do?" Flynn asked expectantly, looking up at her as if awaiting orders.

"Uh, nothing. Just… try to relax, maybe?"

He lightly cocked his head, as if not quite understanding the suggestion, and Orchid sighed. Better to just show him what she was going to do rather than explain it. Taking another deep breath, this one to steady her nerves, Orchid knelt down between his legs, pushing his thighs apart to make room. She quickly glanced up at him to see his reaction, but he simply watched her. She thought the ridges where his eyebrows would have been were raised marginally, but she wasn't sure.

"What are you doing?" he asked mildly.

"I… I want to… um… how do I put it?" she asked, trying not to wince at her own words. How as she going to explain to him what she was trying to do? A guy would have gotten the hint already, but Observers could be strangely obtuse when things weren't spelled out for them.

Perhaps he could sense her embarrassment or shyness, because she felt his thoughts brush against hers again. She was quickly finding the feeling comforting, rather than intrusive.

"Ah, you mean oral sex," he said once he saw what she wanted to do.

"Yeah, that," she answered quickly, feeling her cheeks immediately heat. "Is that… okay?"

"It is not something I have engaged in before, but… I am willing to proceed, if that is what you wish."

Orchid nodded, her mouth suddenly going dry. His words made her wonder how many other humans he had been with. Was oral sex not common among their kind? Would he even feel it, or take any pleasure from it?

One way to find out, Orchid said to herself, steeling her nerves. She lowered her gaze down his chest and stomach to his belt, reminded once again of why she had become aroused in the first place. He may have been fully clothed, but from the way the cloth tugged against the frame of his body she could tell he was in great physical shape.

Focus, woman. Focus.

Orchid reached forward with only lightly trembling fingers to undo his belt, unbuckling it enough so she could undo the button at the top of his pants. She clasped the zipper between her fingertips and pulled down, nervous all over again. It was rare to see an Observer without his hat and jacket, let alone with his pants undone, and Orchid was a lot more anxious than she thought she would be.

Flynn, no doubt sensing the waves of uncertainty coming from her mind, placed a hand on top of hers, forcing her attention up to his face.

"If at any moment I wish you to stop, I will say so," he said calmly, brown eyes as steadfast as ever. Orchid stared up at him a moment before giving a small nod. He removed his warm hand from hers, and gathering the last of her courage, she pulled apart the opening of his pants. White boxer-briefs were underneath, and she blinked at the ordinary, everyday human garment. She didn't know why she was surprised; had she expected them to go commando?

"What is... 'commando'?" Flynn asked unhelpfully.

"It means to go without underwear," Orchid responded distractedly, much more interested to find what was in the boxer-briefs rather than explain human slang to him. "It's not important. I tend to ramble when I'm… oh…" She trailed off as she freed his sizeable, normal-looking, very-erect cock from his boxer-briefs. That answered her question as to whether or not Observer dicks looked anything like human dicks.

"I did not know our genitalia was something that fascinated you," he observed conversationally. Orchid had to hold back a laugh, but she did give a ghost of a smile.

"Honestly, I hadn't given it much thought until now." She hesitated a moment, and then reached forward, curiosity overriding her nerves. Her fingertips made contact, and the first thing she noted was how hot it was. Her fingers carefully curled around his shaft, and it was nearly rock-hard under her touch.

"Interesting. Am I your first, then?"

The question caught her off-guard, and she looked up at him. Flynn was staring back at her with all the calmness of the world, as if both of her hands weren't wrapped around his cock.

"The first of your kind. Yes," she answered barely above a whisper. Orchid had started to get a hang of his expressions, or so she thought. She couldn't quite discern the one on his face now, as if he were deeply in thought about something.

"I see," he finally answered. He blinked once, and the odd expression was gone. "You may continue."

Not for the first time, she had to fight back a smile. She never realized before that Observers could be so unintentionally humorous. It was… sort of endearing. Either way, he might treat this as a clinical experiment, but Orchid was going to do her damndest to get him to feel something.

At first, she tried methodically stroking the shaft, using both of her hands to move up and down his considerable girth. The skin was warm and malleable under her fingers, with the muscles underneath hard as a stone. She chanced a glance upwards to his face, but he was simply watching her with that look of unmoving intensity. It was almost intimidating, but that's not the reaction she was looking for. She knew she had to do better.

Orchid broke eye contact with him and pushed farther between his legs, now caged in by his thighs. Before she could lose what courage she had gained, she leaned forward towards his lap and took a cursory lick of the head of his cock. She didn't hear any reaction, so she did it again, letting her tongue drag along the head and the sensitive tip.

She felt a muscle twitch in his right thigh.

A slight smile tugging on her lips, Orchid leaned down farther and took the top of his head into her mouth. For some reason she had expected him not to taste like much of anything, but he did, very mildly. Salt and spices is what sprang to mind, and she found the combination very alluring.

Orchid teased the top of his head with her tongue again, leaving ghost touches, and she could hear something change. His breathing up until that point had been slow and regular. Now it was out of sync with its previous rhythm – slight faster and not as steady.

Emboldened, she slid his cock further into her mouth, and without warning, began to suck, hard. At the same time, she brought her tongue forward and massaged the head, her fingers still grasping and stroking the bottom of his shaft so that every inch of him was being stimulated in some way.

The muscles in his thighs jumped this time, and she heard a slight hiss as if air was passing through clenched teeth. She froze, wondering if she had gone too far too fast, and she was about to pull off of him when she felt a warm pressure on her scalp. Flynn was moving his fingers through the locks of her hair, and she knew she wasn't imagining the slight tremble in his hands.

"Do not stop, please," was all he said, but it was the way he said it. The edge to his voice, the slight breathlessness, the something more than vague emotionless manners. He wasn't just asking her to not stop, it sounded like needed her to keep going, and that knowledge made the muscles between her legs tighten in unexpected arousal.

Flynn continued to entwine his fingers through her hair as she moved her head up and down on his cock, tongue stroking and tasting him as she grew more and more aroused. He seemed to be in the same predicament, as once in a while his fingers would flex and grip her hair more firmly and she even caught what sounded like a breathless moan.

Orchid couldn't take it anymore. She released one hand from around his shaft and slid it between her thighs, moaning into his cock as she began to rub out her own arousal. Fuck, she mentally cursed. I'm so close to coming, I'm so close…

The grip he had on her head was definitely harder now, practically pulling her hair, but Orchid didn't care. She just wanted him. She wanted him to fuck her so badly it almost hurt—

Flynn pulled her off his cock. Orchid blinked, and before she could ask what was wrong, he reached down and pulled her up from the ground. His movements were precise, purposeful, and yet rough as he pushed her onto the bed. She had never appreciated how strong the Observers were until this moment as he moved her into the position he wanted – on all fours at the edge of the bed. Just as soon as she realized what was about to happen, she felt his hands firmly grip her hips and the head of his cock press firmly against her.

Orchid didn't want him to go slow, didn't want him to take it easy, and she certainly didn't need him to take his time. Urgency and overwhelming need filled every crevice of her mind, blocking out all logical thoughts, and Flynn must have witnessed all of it because he obeyed her wishes. He thrust his hips forward, his sheathing his entire cock within her with one stroke. She cried out, equal parts relief and pleasure. The relief didn't last long – she needed him to move. And move he did.

His thrusts were long, forceful, and he kept up a rhythm that she suspected most men couldn't maintain for very long. He also seemed to adjust his stride and angle, and Orchid realized he was doing it based on how good it felt to her. When he hit a particular spot that made her toes curl, Flynn would purposefully strive for that spot again and again. She began to devolve into a mess of a human being, nothing left of her but tingling nerve endings.

It wasn't long before she could feel her peak approaching, her legs and arms twitching as her walls began to tighten around his shaft. Flynn's fingers were dug into her hips but she barely noticed, always wanting more, never wanting him to stop fucking her. She was so close, so close, but she had always had problems reaching that peak, and she was suddenly afraid she wouldn't be able to get there now.

An electric jolt shot through her, or at least that's what it felt like as Flynn released her hip with one hand and reached down to between her legs, stroking her clit even as he continued to ram into her from behind. Orchid had never experienced a set of sensations like that before, and her arms buckled, leaving her to moan into the covers as Flynn continued to pound into her hips still in the air.

Orchid gripped the covers tightly in her hands, buried her face in them, and cried out so hard she thought she would blow out her voice box. The orgasm hit her unexpectedly and with the force of a truck; she shivered and bucked as she throbbed around his cock, literally seeing stars before her eyes as fireworks burst throughout her body. She was tensed around him so tightly that he could barely move, and each pulse of her walls made her shudder in pure ecstasy.

And then, she finally heard it. It was quiet, choked off, but most definitely a moan as Flynn followed her orgasm with his own. She could feel his cock twitch inside her, and a distant, detached part of her wondered, far too late, if they should have used a condom.

After what was surely an eternity (or what felt like a timeless period of postcoital bliss), Flynn pulled out. Orchid collapsed the rest of the way onto the bed, disliking the feel of emptiness she experienced immediately afterwards. But she was too exhausted and wrung out to move apart from wiping the sweat-soaked hair out of her face.

"Here."

She looked down at the sound of Flynn's calm voice. She blinked, surprised to see him fully dressed, and then realized no, he had been dressed the whole time. Only the jacket and hat missing, she thought with hazy amusement. Orchid finally noticed the wash towel he was holding, and she pulled herself into a sitting position, a struggle with her uncooperative heavy limbs. The towel was warm and partially soaked, meant to clean herself with.

"Thanks," she responded, her voice sounding thick and groggy to her ears.

"You are welcome," Flynn said pleasantly. She studied his expression for a moment, but it was the same one he wore most instances, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. What, did you think mind-blowing sex with you was going to change him somehow? Orchid derided herself silently as she began to clean up. For a moment she was worried he would read her, and then she realized that was also part of the emptiness she had felt. It had just taken her a few minutes to realize it, but Flynn had cut off their connection at the same moment their… physical connection had ended as well.

Orchid looked up, about to say something, when she saw he was pulling his jacket up onto his broad shoulders. Her heart sank further in her chest.

"You're leaving?" The disappointment was clear in her voice and words, and with a human man, she might have felt shame at sounding so pathetic. But with Flynn, she felt like she could just… say what she felt, and he wouldn't judge or mock her. How strange was it that she had spent an hour with this Observer and it felt as if she could trust him more than most people she had known for years?

"I have a meeting I must attend," he responded, picking up the fedora he had meticulously placed on a side dresser she hadn't even noticed. Once it was back on his bald, pale head, Flynn turned toward her and hesitated. His expression wasn't quite soft, but it made him appear younger. She had no idea how Observer ages worked, and they all seemed timeless to her, but if he had been a human man she might have pegged him to be in his mid-30s. For some reason, that made her feel sad for him.

"Will you come back?" she asked before she could stop herself. Already, she yearned for his touch and the comforting presence in the back of her mind. Never in a million years could she have guessed she liked being read, especially when being fucked by an Observer.

Flynn walked towards her, and even holding nothing but a small towel, she was no longer afraid of him. Intimidated, perhaps, but the fear had vanished. He extended his hand, and she took it after some hesitation, wondering what he was doing as he pulled her to her feet. He studied her face with his strange, brown eyes, before finally responding with what she could have sworn was a hint of a smile.

"Our kind can request exclusive access to particular hosts they have grown… partial to."

Orchid raised her brows. He… wanted exclusive access? To her? And after only one session? That wasn't just rare, it was unheard of. She studied his face carefully, wondering for the first time what he was seeing. Not just in her, but in her future. Most people didn't want to know their futures, even when the Observers could tell them, because everyone's future was short and bleak.

But perhaps… hers would be different. Maybe that's what Flynn saw. Or maybe he just really, really liked having sex with a human woman. The thought made a mischievous smile form on her lips, and she dropped her towel and stepped forward to press her naked body against the front of his suit. The idea that he had just fucked in his clothing, and would be going to a meeting in said clothing, was undeniably hot. She almost regretted Flynn couldn't see her thoughts now; she might be able to convince him to skip that meeting.

"Have you grown partial to me?" she teased, lightly wrapping her arms around his neck and making sure he could feel every inch of her naked body pressed against him. As if he could not keep his hands from touching her skin, his large hands spread across her waist, and she saw it: the subtle change in his eyes. The marginally more intensified look that made it feel like he was staring right into the core of who she was. No human man had looked at her that way before, and she knew there was no going back for her.

"Yes," Flynn responded, his voice low and soft as his hands held her firmly against him. Then he did something that caught her off-guard more than anything else had; the Observer leaned forward and caught her lips, holding them against his. The kiss was warm, deep, and held the promise of many nights to come.