At NovelAI headquarters (which is really just the tiny Istanbul basement of a catgirl named Kurumuz), the sound of a furiously clacking keyboard is abruptly concluded, punctuated by a beak pounding the return key with triumphant finality.
"Honk!" Goose declares, with satisfied pride; NovelAI's latest text-generating AI model has begun its finetune training process, leaving the developers ample time to rest and relax.
Behind him, Goose's coworker Aini looks up from her laptop, admiring Goose's latest accomplishment. She bites her lower lip, fighting off her feelings; even so, her eyes flit over to the nearby whiteboard, nearly as long as the basement's length. Goose's endless mathematical calculations spider across every inch of it, so austere and hieroglyphic in their complexity as to be imposing. Aini's breath quickens at the sight of them, her heart fluttering; she can't help but imagine how lucid and penetrating the mind of the bird who created such things must be. Goose's brilliance sparkles in Aini's head, like a diamond.
"Honk," Goose says thoughtfully, snapping Aini out of her reverie. "Oh, that's wonderful, Goose!" Aini congratulates her friend brightly, nodding to the fresh lambada graphs on his screen. "I'm sure everyone will love it. You're so smart," she adds adorably, sincere with the compliment.
"Honk, honk," Goose replies, with characteristic modesty. Aini giggles, blushing, and looks away.
"I don't know about that," she admits bashfully. "No matter how much hard work and study I put in, I'm not sure I could ever do what you do."
"Honk!" Goose adds considerately, flapping his wings. Aini laughs with delight, and sets her laptop down.
The two coworkers make eye contact for a moment that soon stretches into awkwardness. Aini clears her throat and glances downwards, something clearly on her mind. Her eyes dart to the whiteboard again, and she squirms in her seat, pressing her knees together.
"Goose," she says softly, "there's something I've been wondering..." Aini says, trailing off.
"Honk?" Goose replies compassionately.
Aini looks up at him with a touch of mischief in her dazzling topaz eyes. "Do you remember the other day, when that one person online asked you if... if you liked futa?" Aini asks, unable to contain her curiosity.
"H-honk," Goose replies, his wings fluttering in embarrassment.
"Well... do you?" Aini asks softly, as her big eyes glitter auriferously.
"...honk!" Goose replies cleverly, deflecting the question. His sharp wit forces a musical laugh to bubble out of Aini, despite herself.
"You're only 'never gonna make it' if you keep refusing to answer it," Aini teases him playfully in retort.
"Honk, honk?" asks Goose, idly pecking at the keyboard again.
"Because I want to know," Aini says imploringly. Goose ruffles his feathers, disarmed by the simplicity of her answer. He preferred complicated problems.
"H.. honk," Goose says, slightly uncomfortable. For all his neuronal firepower, social graces were never his strong suit.
Aini's wide eyes go even wider in surprise. "N-no, i-it's not like that!" she stammers, quickly and apologetically. Aini stands up and briskly seats herself beside her friend. She gently starts to pet the silky black feathers on his head, contrite, and mumbles an apology. He extends his long, cranelike neck towards her, appreciating the gesture. Aini is quiet for a time, smoothing Goose's feathers in silence.
"Honk?" Goose honks, his own curiosity getting the better of him.
Aini's bubblegum lips drop open at the surprising incisiveness of the gentle question. "Well... it's just..." she begins to say, lost for words. "You're just such a genius, Goose! And you're kind, and funny, and considerate," Aini blubbers, the words spilling out of her, "and I wanted to know if... if someone like you c-could.. seeing as I'm..." Aini sputters, struggling to make sense.
"H-honk?" Goose asks, ever the gentleman despite being taken aback in a dozen ways.
Aini bites her lip again, her nearly golden eyes meeting his beady black ones. The arousal in her face is plain to see, even for a savant like Goose. But before Goose can honk his way out of things, Aini stands up, and slowly begins to lift her frilly skirt with her graceful artist's fingers. Goose's beak nearly falls to the floor in shock; the white lace of Aini's panties is toiling to contain a massive bulge. Even Goose's labyrinthine mind struggles to process what is clearly a throb of Aini's humongous girlcock. As Aini lets her skirt fall, Goose can't help but wonder how such fragile lace could withhold the gargantuan erection within without bursting.
Aini kneels down in front of Goose, bringing the two friends to eye level. She gingerly places a delicate, porcelain hand around Goose's soft and serpentine neck. Goose merely stares at her, stunned into speechlessness even more profound than usual.
"So, Goose," Aini whispers, her voice trembling and vulnerable, "do you... like futa?"
For a moment, the sexual tension in the room screams inside the hearts of both coworkers so loud as to blot out all thought.
And then, in a tender murmur, Goose honks his affirmation.
Like slow molasses, Aini inches her doll-like face towards Goose's handsome avian beak. As her plush lips meet his hard bill,