Daneel stretches out alongside Ned, around him. With his own clothes shed -- efficiently and unselfconsciously, if nothing else -- he's free to let the warmth of his skin press against Ned's body. To be kissed is pleasant; to return those kisses, to caress bare skin is even more rewarding, in a subtle and wonderful way.

There's time for exploration, though. The last thing he wants is to rush any part of this, not when neither he nor Ned is entirely sure of what they're doing. He slides his palm over Ned's stomach, knowing in memory the feel of every bone and muscle; he knows Ned's mind, the feel and sound of it, and will never forget those details. He's coming to know Ned's body in the same way, through different (and distinctly robotic) senses.

What Ned says it's true, he knows that, but he's not really comforted by it, either. Mistakes can be made. Daneel has been successful, up to this point, but he can't rely on past success alone.

"You are too important for me to risk," Daneel murmurs, sounding faintly confused himself at the confession, though that is the situation, as he sees it. The worst result would be for Ned to come to harm, or take offense. Daneel cannot have Ned forever, he knows that, but when they must part it must not be in anger and pain. Clarifying this aloud, though, is difficult. Instead, he tucks his head down against Ned's collarbone and kisses the skin there, while he slides against him, warming him against the chill of the evening.