[he's not the only transparent one here, seems like. His fingers peel the hem of her shirt away enough to get at the small of her back, fingertips working their non-literal magic.]
Don't pretend you mind. [He doesn't go for her lips, but he isn't about to object if she does. He'd at least gotten to keep his teeth brushed while he was lying in bed -- one of the few things the bots had granted him while she'd been gone. Accuse him of preparing for just this moment if you like; you'd be correct.]
[Instead he'll aim for the edge of her jaw, first teasing her with his stubble and then leaving the tickling aside in favor of soft kisses. Sentience may not think this qualifies as recovery, but in Cross's mind it's absolutely essential.]