A bit of Occulomata!KRO and Martin thoughts, under a cut because spicy.
Martin had been used to KRO being the one in charge, playing an active role in planning their strategies during missions, gathering intel, even giving Martin instructions for how to approach situations. Though Martin knew about Michael Knight's legacy, his performance in the field and track record; there was nothing about this partnership that could compare to Michael and KITT.
KITT had supported Michael, but could only act on his own with limited independence. KRO was a full agent in his own right, he could act independently without any input from Martin -- he often argued that KRO was indeed his own person, so far as he was concerned the only thing keeping KRO from leaving him was their bond.
That point remained true when KRO had been found by that strange entity from beyond the stars, whom plucked him from his ferrari chassis and granted him a new body - metal woven in such a way that it was nearly indistinguishable from flesh and bone, plated with armor that looked like it could be insect chitin or medieval barding. He was still sleek, powerful, beautiful; but now there was so much more to their bond.
In the past he could deduce the machine's mood through the sound of his engine, the patterns of light across the dashboard of his cockpit, his tone of voice. He did not have a face, but he could be read through the subtle tells only Martin knew. Now, as Occulomata KRO had an array of eyes that peered from beneath a raptoresque brow, glowing a royal purple, bearing a gaze that dissected their surroundings like a scalpel. His was an intimidating countenance, not in the way of a promise of brutality or violence, but the kind of intimidation that comes from being around one that possessed a divine intelligence. There were no secrets he could hide, there was nothing about him that the machine did not already know. His face was much bestial as it was human, an otherworldly chimera of features that could make Martin's partner a dead ringer for a biblical demonic entity.
Yet, such assumptions were purely subjective -- certainly many would see a demon clad in black metal, to him the machine's visage passed for angelic just as readily; majestic, awe inspiring, incomprehensible.
"...Do not fear me, do not recoil from my appearance," were the words upon Occulomata!KRO's lips when he had regained his ability to speak. "We have known each other for too long for a body to be enough to separate us."
Indeed, it was not. A body had never been enough to keep Martin and KRO apart in any sense of the word, and never would be. The two had been creative with their intimacy when it had begun to blossom during KRO's tenancy within the ferrari -- wandering fingers over touch sensors on Martin's part, clever manipulation of the restraining field to simulate hands roaming over KRO's partner, utilizing every byte of data on human behavior on hand to recreate a gentle caress; to squeeze him, pet him, hold him.
Occulomata!KRO needed no such technosorcery now to perform simple tenderness. His hands, powerful, deft; they roamed over his form with a weight that the laser restraints could not replicate. Despite the razors that lay behind his lips, Occulomata!KRO's kisses carried a softness that belied their danger. Yet, and yet, the most striking change to Martin about his reborn partner had been deeper than physical. He knew the machine longed for contact with him, chased any way he could to touch him, hold him -- in this new form he certainly found every opportunity he could to hold him close. It felt now like Occulomata!KRO's desires went deeper than they had when he had still been housed in the ferrari, carried an edge to it that a program written by human hands could never demonstrate. They became, intense, deep, passionate to the point where Martin could not help the way his heart raced, threatened to will his limbs to bolt, whenever those deep currents of emotion within the eldritch machine bubbled to the surface.
With the changes to the machine having effectively severed any binding contracts of ownership between him and FLAG, there was ample time for those feelings to make themselves known.
Self restraint had always been KRO's strength, he had always been the more level headed one of their duo. He kept Martin on track, kept him from letting his tenacity override his sense. There had been a part of Martin that knew what laid beneath the surface, the weight of tension that kept the machine on track, and there had been a part of him that wondered just what would happen if perhaps that restraint was... Cut.
Would it snap back in his face like a steel line, tearing him apart; or would it rush over him, crush him under its weight like water being released from a dam?
He refused to let himself regret the answer to his question, the time he had requested it. Occulomata!KRO was all too willing to give him what he had been seeking. In a room on a more lonesome side of a motel, Martin was nearly drowned in affection, devoured by kisses and caresses.
Occulomata!KRO took every moment of his time spent with Martin, every morsel of knowledge he had about his partner, and honed it with all of his processing power to wield upon him with precision. He knew every place to touch him, how to make his form buck and writhe beneath him in ecstasy, coaxed the most enticing sounds from his form. From his lips spilled praises, prayers, whimpers, moans -- Occulomata!KRO rendered him completely helpless, weak to his attention. But of course he did, seeking weaknesses was his strength, Martin reminded himself. Yet that did not keep him from feeling as if he were being opened and laid bare by something beyond human comprehension. Every secret of his was brought to light, incapable of hiding anything from this angel, this demon, that held him.
Both the latter and former assumptions to his question had been correct, Martin realized in the wake of the hours spent riding the overwhelming high the machine had carried him on. Laying in Occulomata!KRO's arms, his form wet with a mix of sweat and the results of their activities, he had been torn apart, overwhelmed and crushed beneath the current of the machine's passion.