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Chapter 53: NOOOOOOO
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Her face drifted closer until their lips were a mere inch apart. Her whisper was a warm ghost against his skin. "How about I take it?"
The offer was blunt, devoid of her usual games. "I could show you the best time of your life. Teach you… all kinds of things."
To punctuate her seriousness, she closed the final gap, planting a quick, firm kiss on his lips before pulling back just enough to watch his reaction.
Adam blinked, his cybernetic eye whirring softly in the sudden quiet. Genuine confusion flickered across his face.
Why? The question echoed in his formidable mind. Why was someone like Emma Frost; arrogant, discerning, ruthless; making such a direct offer after so few encounters?
This wasn't love; he was too pragmatic to believe that. It wasn't mere physical attraction, though he was objectively aware of his own appeal. So why?
The answer, as it often did, scrolled through the periphery of his perception in the [Information] panel. The audience was already diagnosing it.
[Emma's kryptonite: UNIQUE INTELLIGENCE AND POWER! She's attracted to minds she can't instantly dominate!]
[She's a collector of rare and beautiful things. Adam is the ultimate limited edition.]
[She loves fashion, aesthetics, and control. Adam is a self-made work of art with his own uncontrollable will. He's her perfect paradox.]
[True, he's made it his mission to always look crazy good.]
[Fuck, the glaze in this chat is sometimes too much for me. Why doesn't my fucking wife glaze me like that?]
[You have it easy. My wife does the opposite; she turns me down and off.]
He understood. She was attracted to the specimen, the anomaly, the power he represented.
And he also knew, with cold clarity, that she was cunning, pragmatic, and her loyalty was a shifting currency.
He could not rely on any inherent goodness.
Still, as her lips lingered near his and the scent of her filled his senses, none of that clinical analysis seemed particularly pressing.
He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of her perfect golden hair aside before his fingers came to rest gently along her jawline.
"If you're truly serious," He said, his voice lower now, "Then having one of the most devastatingly gorgeous women on the planet as my first would be more than lovely."
Emma giggled, a surprisingly genuine sound. "I'm starting to doubt it would be your first. You seem… strangely experienced."
Adam shrugged, the movement making her sway slightly against him. "I lied. I had a teacher. It's called 'books.' They're quite thorough."
He allowed a small, real smile to touch his lips. "I want to experience many facets of life now that I'm free. Consider this… field research."
He leaned in, closing the distance she had left. "Thank you," He murmured, the words lost as he finally sealed his lips to hers.
He isn't one to hesitate or doubt himself. He's the representation of confidence and certainly, and hesitation is defeat.
As for shame and embarrassment, Adam doesn't know it.
He's much too used to Hydra eyeing him naked, dissecting him, and having no privacy in his previously small cell.
The kiss began slowly, tentatively on his part. He was a fast learner in all things, and this was no exception.
He absorbed the rhythm, the pressure, the subtle cues. Emma, sensing his inexperience, took the lead, her kiss becoming more insistent, guiding him.
It deepened, growing less clinical and more fervent by the second. Adam's hands found her waist, then he effortlessly lifted her.
Her legs wrapped around him as if by instinct, and he carried her toward the bedroom, the kiss never breaking, becoming a sloppy, breathless, and wonderfully degenerate exchange of exploration and pent-up curiosity.
The bedroom door closed softly behind them.
The screen in the minds of the audience did not turn tactfully to black. It shattered into a million pixels of outraged text.
[NOOOOOOOOO! CUT BACK! CUT BACK, YOU COWARDS!]
[WE PAY FOR THE WHOLE SEAT BUT WE ONLY NEED THE EDGE! SHOW US THE EDGE!]
[MY QUEEN! EMMA, NO! YOU'VE FALLEN TO THE CHARMING, NARCISSISTIC VIRGIN!]
[I'm actually crying from envy. This is the greatest and worst day of my life.]
[Unrealistic expectations: Subverted. My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined.]
[NOOOO! I'm crying right now. Why hadn't this show turned into a porno!? All I asked for!]
For Adam, it was a revelation. He had been intellectually curious about sex, aware of its biological imperative and its cultural significance, but he had never had a context for the reality of it.
His first life offered only a hospital bed; his second was a laboratory of pain.
Experiencing it now, especially with a partner of Emma's caliber; both in beauty and in fierce, participatory energy; unlocked something primal.
And with that unlocking came a sudden, vicious surge of hatred. Not for Emma, but for Lady Fate, Lady Fortune, and most of all, for fucking HYDRA.
They had stolen time. They had robbed him of years of this fundamental, wonderful, stress-melting, anxiety-obliterating human experience.
It was better than a perfect chess victory, more satisfying than a successful financial raid, and infinitely more pleasurable than punching a bag.
It felt like a drug; a perfect, natural, addictive high; and for a few hours, he lost himself in it completely.
That's why, when he woke the next morning with the warm, sleeping weight of Emma Frost curled against him, his first conscious act was not satisfaction, but alarm.
He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing into a meditative pattern. Sex doesn't matter, he told himself, the thought a cold blade cutting through the afterglow.
It's a biological imperative, a human instinct. Instincts can be mastered. They can be ignored.
I am not a pervert. I wasted time last night that could have been spent on schematics or data analysis.
A wave of self-directed annoyance washed over him. Celestial beings do not need this. They rule galaxies without it.
It is a diversion, a weakness. How can I aspire to become Absolute if I am nearly addicted after one encounter? My will is unshakeable. My certainty is infinite.
[He's doing a post-nut clarity crisis! This is the most Adam Cypher thing ever!]
["Celestial beings do not need this." Bro is comparing himself to cosmic entities! Settle down, bud.]
[He's treating the best night of his life like a strategic error. I can't decide if I should just kill myself out of envy or admire his discipline.]
He took a deep, silent breath. The problem was solved. He had analyzed it. He didn't need sex.
Therefore, he would simply re-categorize it. It wasn't "sex"; it was an efficient, biochemically superior form of stress and anxiety relief. Far more effective than boxing.
He would treat it like any other maintenance activity for his physical vessel.
He nodded to himself, mentally filing the experience away. Satisfied with this logical framework, the tension left his shoulders.
He brainwashed himself into the conclusion, and he had Hydra to thank for teaching him the art.
[Ok, never mind.]
[He's just as much of a degenerate as I am.]
[No man is safe from gonning.]
[Phew, fortunately he fell. Sleeping with that trash vixen is annoying, but at least he understood that happiness and wasn't led astray to tech lovemaking. I have a chance!]
[...] [I assure you. You don't have a chance. Be Scarlett Johansson, and maybe he will take a second look at you.]
[Ouch.] [Tf is tech lovemaking?]
Yet, a disloyal part of his mind, the part that treasured happiness, whispered that it wasn't just physical.
The happiness exchange, the strange, wordless intimacy… it had felt wonderful. Transcendent, even. He couldn't yet deconstruct why.
He was realizing that he wasn't that much of an edgy emo, he's more so like an envious man that's been deprived of everything and now seeks to experience everything that brings him happiness.
He needn't hold himself back, he realized.
He was disturbed from his daze by Emma stirring. She let out a lazy, contented purr and snuggled deeper into his arms, her voice sleep-rough and amused.
"I must admit… I didn't anticipate superhuman stamina. Didn't know you had that in you."
Adam's brow furrowed slightly. "Oh… I don't have that." He said it with the tone of someone correcting a minor factual error.
"It was likely due to pent-up frustration and stress. And, well, I never engaged in… solitary relief. I suppose I was simply too pent-up."
He shifted to hug her properly, his tone softening with a hint of genuine consideration. "I apologize if I was too rough. I may have lost myself in the process. I believe I treated it somewhat like a boxing match."
Emma's giggle was a warm vibration against his chest. "The oddest description I've ever heard. But I loved it."
She propped herself up on an elbow, her white hair cascading around her shoulders, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"I just wonder… does your girlfriend mind this? You seemed quite ready to entertain that blonde yesterday."
[Adam's girlfriend!? Who?]
[Emma is testing the waters. This is a psychic minefield disguised as pillow talk.]
[Does she think Domino is his girlfriend?]
Adam raised a brow. "Domino? She's not my girlfriend." He stated it as fact.
"She understands I'm not interested in a conventional relationship. Perhaps she sees I'm not… capable of love in that way. Or that I choose not to be."
He would chuckle and add. "And I am quite fond of her. I wouldn't want to break her heart. So yeah, no hope there."
Emma showed genuine surprise, her psychic shields momentarily down. "I didn't take you for the edgy type, Adam."
He shrugged, utterly unembarrassed. "I've earned my edgy phase."
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