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“Please read and sign this consent form before we start the experiment.”
Alex, channeling the seriousness his law school demands, meticulously reads the consent form. It essentially says the experiment will extract words from the participant’s brainwaves, requiring their consent, and so on.
If he were rational, he would know to back out at this point. However, unable to retreat under the hopeful gaze of Henry’s beautiful blue eyes, he finds himself rooted in place.
On the other hand, had he remained rational, he wouldn’t have had anything to fear about what was to come.
Either way, his downfall today seems inevitable. A twist of fate he can’t escape.
Alex signs the damned consent form.
Henry, with a smile, neatly collects the form and then picks up a strange-looking device from the table. It’s a mesh of tiny wires and discs, something straight out of a sci-fi movie.
“This is the EEG cap we’re using for our experiment. EEG stands for Electroencephalography, which measures the electrical activity in the brain,” he explains, laying the cap out for Alex to see. “These little discs are electrodes. I’m going to place this cap on your head and insert conductive gel between these electrodes and your scalp to help collect your brainwave signals.”
Henry bends down in front of Alex to install the cap. Alex is sitting, making Henry’s upper body almost fold ninety degrees. This gives Alex a clear view down Henry’s loosely hanging T-shirt, where the elegant lines of his collarbone and the contours of his chest muscles are subtly shadowed.
If Alex ever questioned his sexuality, the way his body reacts right now leaves no room for doubt—he’s definitely not straight. The sight of Henry Fox, a biomedical sciences grad student he’s just met ten minutes ago, effortlessly resolves months of Alex’s identity crisis.
After securing the cap, Henry carefully fills a syringe with conductive gel, meticulously inserting it between the electrodes and his scalp. Alex can’t see Henry’s face from his angle. He can only feel the cool matter being applied incrementally against his skin.
Henry’s fingers brush against his scalp each time he parts his hair. Alex is definitely not fantasizing about those pristine fingers now glistening with the slick, shiny gel.
Once the setup is completed, Henry cleans the gel off his hands out of Alex’s sight, then returns to sit in front of him. He boots up a laptop on the table, launching what looks like a dashboard, and types in today’s date and “Alex Claremont-Diaz”—adding a new entry for this experiment, apparently.
Henry clicks confirm, and the screen switches to a pure black display with a blinking cursor. Oh, right, this experiment tests a brainwave input method. So this must be a giant text input box.
“Once I start the machine, it’ll begin analyzing your brainwaves and output the words you’re thinking onto this screen,” Henry explains. “I’ve got some simple questions. Please answer them only in your head. Try to focus when you think about the answer, as it’ll help form strong enough brainwaves for the device to interpret.”
Alex nods, signaling he understands.
“Right, I’m turning on the device. Are you ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Henry presses a button, and several incomprehensible indicators light up. Before Henry can even ask a question, the cursor on the display starts moving.
fuck why does even the way you press that button look so hot it’s not fair I look like a damn Hellraiser pinhead with this thing on and you’re just wearing that plain T-shirt and jeans looking like a freaking GQ cover model
“Oh,” Henry sounds surprised, his beautiful eyes widening as he stares at the words that spill out onto the screen the moment the machine connects, disbelief etched across his face.
fuck oh fuck why does even your oh sound so hot is it the British accent I swear I’ve never cared for a British accent before but somehow that oh just made my pants feel like they’re about to burst
“Um—” A barely discernible grunt escapes Henry’s throat.
do you have anything other than oh and um in your vocabulary no it’s okay fuck anyway I’m just thinking about grabbing your head oh your blond hair looks so soft and beautiful I wonder what it feels like and I want to kiss those lush sexy lips of yours and shove my tongue down your throat so you can’t utter a word wait wait wait there are no punctuation marks how the hell are you supposed to read this
“Well,” Henry finally manages to regain his composure, “we’ve integrated AI to assist in analyzing the semantics and inserting punctuation where appropriate.”
With a few mouse clicks, the block of text Alex thought up is instantly punctuated correctly. This makes Alex’s ramblings look a bit more coherent but does little to diminish their inherent impropriety.
ok that’s pretty cool but that’s not the point okay and why did it take punctuation for you to finally react and say something did I hit a nerve fuck then okay if you like it I’ll keep doing it punctuation punctuation punctuation punctuation punctuation punctuation
Henry coughs. “Erm, thank you for participating in the brainwave input method test, Alex. Since this technology is still in its infancy, we mostly have to guide participants to think strongly enough for the device to capture. You’re the first I’ve seen use it so… thoroughly without any prompting.”
alright you’ve seen enough I know I’m good but you don’t know what else I’m really good at oh no uh no no no no fuck can you turn it off now shit I’m seriously considering jumping out of the window we’re on the tenth floor right
“Uh, yes, of course. Sorry.” Henry finally makes a grand gesture to turn off the damned device.
But it’s too late. The damage has been done. Alex is socially dead.
Staring desperately at his own naked thoughts displayed on the screen, Alex starts to wonder if Henry will report him to the Title IX Office.
Surely… not, right? Those were in his head. He didn’t say them out loud. Well, he didn’t verbally say them, but the machine read it out. The thing is, it wasn’t his intention to have his thoughts so directly exposed to Henry. Oh shit. Henry had him sign that damn consent form. Henry could argue it was all voluntary.
Fuck, does he really need to bear legal responsibility for his brain’s lurid wanderings? If there’s any silver lining to this humiliating spectacle of airing his dirty laundry in front of a stranger, it might just be that he’s found a potential research topic for his law degree.
“Listen, I’m really sorry, but can you delete the results of this experiment?” Alex asks, his tone defeated. “I know you anonymize participants, but given what you’ve seen, you can understand why I wouldn’t want to take any risks.”
“No, the results of this experiment are too valuable. I really can’t afford to lose them.” Henry refuses, his face serious. “Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Unless you let me explore ‘what else you are really good at’ in greater depth.”
Alex pauses, unsure of how to respond. Is Henry suggesting what he thinks he’s suggesting?
“Unfortunately, this lab, due to its valuable equipment, is under constant surveillance,” Henry hints, his eyes darting towards the screen displaying Alex’s indecent thoughts. “Otherwise, I’d be quite keen to let you demonstrate these here.”
“Oh,” Alex’s lips curve into a mischievous smirk, happily catching on. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, baby. Wait until I wash this damn gel off. My hair is quite nice to the touch.”
“I’m well aware,” Henry nods, his gaze unwavering, an enticing smile playing on his lips. “I’ve had the pleasure of touching it already.”
If Alex had known beforehand just how hot Henry the research guy would be, he definitely wouldn’t have volunteered for this damned brainwave input method experiment.
Yet, as he makes his way to Henry’s bed that night, he finds no regrets at all.
– The End –