Music Sounds Better With You (love you like a love song)
Title: Music Sounds Better With You (love you like a love song)
Characters/Pairing: Koyama/Shige
Rating: PG-13
Words: 7,000
Warnings: prostitution
Summary: Shige might have been a little desperate when he made a call to the pleasure pimp, but he had no idea that he'd just changed his life - "once you've had a lover-robot you'll never want a real man again."
Notes: For my dearest carmine_pink. I hope you don't regret doing this. XD But I hope even more that this makes your holiday season even happier for you. <3 Set in the universe of the movie Artificial Intelligence. Title a mashup of BigTimeRush and Selena Gomez songs. Cut text from Gym Class Heroes' "Stereo Hearts," end quote from "Love you Like A Love Song". Part of a small Secret Santa (will update as they finish posting.)
bananyphophany | beltenebra | carmine_pink | imifumei | rockthecliche | yey-yey
---
The first time Shige saw him, the man was dancing into neon puddles, sending black ripples through them and ruining the reflected words. An electric blue umbrella was held carelessly above his head as though forgotten, a tinny 1950s show tune playing around him, nearly drowned out by the city's night noise. It was such a shocking sight that Shige stopped to watch in confused awe as water splashed unheeded and soaked into the stranger's pant-legs, darkening them.
Finally noticing his audience, the man stilled, tawny hair darkened by water and mussed, and grinned sheepishly at Shige, a nervous tick twitching his head to the side, at which the music shut off abruptly. And that's when Shige realized, taking in a face whose sheen couldn't be chalked up to just the rain, that he wasn't a man at all.
It wasn't as though no other mecha could play music on command, but that paired with his flashy and suave good looks told Shige that this was a lover-robot, if an eccentric one. For one, they didn't typically play music for themselves, or jump around in puddles dirtying their clothing (appearances are everything for them), or walk (dance) around like they had no agenda. Especially when they did have one, like Shige knew this one did. Because it was here for him.
Smoothly turning, Shige entered the hotel without saying a word, paying up and taking the key from the uninterested receptionist. His blush deepened as he stepped further into the hotel, hearing the mecha several feet behind him, casually matching his steps, pausing when he stopped in front of his room, and then resuming as Shige stepped through the door, the robot closing it softly behind himself.
Not for the first time, Shige wondered why he'd finally decided to go through with this. He couldn't bring himself to turn and face the mecha so he went to the opposite side of room to twitch back the curtains framing the false window, watched the city night scene displayed, caught the little glitch as it hit the repeater.
And then the mecha spoke, from just behind Shige, and, even though his tone was quiet, it startled him. He hadn't heard him come up. "Have you done this before? I wouldn't ask, but you seem nervous."
"What's your name?" Shige blurted, and there was a slight pause before he answered.
"Kei."
"No snappy phrase? Lover-mecha usually have one, right?"
He laughed, a high sort of chuckle Shige hadn't expected. "Don't need one," he leered, but the effect was slightly ruined by his amused smile.
Shige turned, then, stepping back a bit eyeing Kei's clothing. "Do you make it a habit to jump in puddles before you do these things?"
The mecha gave him a chagrined look. "I got caught up in the moment. But it was raining anyway," it said with a smile.
Such a strange choice of words for a machine, Shige thought. "Are you really… You're not very good at this are you?"
He narrowed his eyes then, and smiled wolfishly, placing one hand against the wall next to Shige's shoulder and leaning into Shige's space, running a slim hand down Shige's chest to rest on his belt buckle. "Oh, I'm very good at this," he said, his voice in a lower, smoother register that tumbled his words into a careless sort of polish.
Trembling slightly, Shige let out a heavy breath.
His eyes softened. "Is this your first time? Are you afraid?" Kei asked gently, placing a finger under Shige's chin and tilting it up until Shige met his eyes. "You can tell me."
Shige licked his lips nervously. "Yes."
"I promise there's nothing to be afraid of," he told him, waiting calmly for Shige's assent.
Taking a deep breath, Shige held his gaze before nodding.
---
Shige left his first experience with a pleasure mecha both elated and disturbed. The robot had been almost tender with Shige, something hard to find this day and age, even among people - though he supposed he'd paid enough to get exactly what he wanted, even if he hadn't known what that was until Kei had shown him. As much as Shige wanted to think he just wanted to fuck and be fucked, to be with some unknown thing with no attachments, he'd shown his true colors when he'd asked for a name.
Hanging his head with a sigh, Shige admitted to himself that cynical though he might be, he was apparently a hopeless romantic at heart.
He'd almost been able to put the whole incident out of his mind, at least for a few hours, when he saw Kei step outside a boutique in Shinjuku. His hair was black this time, and he was dressed impeccably in a blue, tailored suit - looking like the kind of man a girl would take home to meet the parents. A waifish girl followed him out, smiling shyly up at him, and Kei turned, took the girl's hand in one of his and brought it to his lips, a lascivious smirk on his face as he met her eyes. Ducking her head, she turned away, hiding her face from Shige, and began walking. Kei, though, came right toward him, a legitimate spring in his step and light smile on his face that widened when he noticed Shige standing there, frozen.
"Hi, Shige," he said brightly, leaning carelessly against a pole to Shige's right and nonchalantly watching passersby , courteous in case Shige didn't want to engage him, ever the gentleman.
Burning flashes of soft fingers exploring his body, plush lips pressing against his skin and bringing a blush to it, and Shige shuddered, cheeks reddening, stuck in some sort of insidious loop. "Hi, Kei," he replied quietly, jarring himself into motion. When he started walking, Kei casually fell into step beside him. "Surprised to see you out during the day."
Kei quirked up one side of his lips. "Love doesn't just happen in the night," he said softly, and Shige snorted, blushing again.
"I'm not sure I would call that love," he retorted, quickening his stride.
"If you want me to leave you," the mecha told him calmly, keeping pace, their arms brushing together mid-swing , "you need only ask."
The reasonable thing would be to tell him to leave. Shige didn't need him following him around, raising questions he didn't feel like answering. He came to an abrupt stop, turning toward Kei and searching his face. He saw nothing but a gentle sort of curiosity.
"I don't want your… services," Shige insisted nervously, obviously a lie.
"My services are wider than you think. My company, however, at this point in time, is free of charge. I have nothing on my schedule for several hours."
Shige gaped at him. "You have free time. You have free time and you'd like to keep me company." This felt like some sort of alternate reality. It had to be some sort of trick. It would lull him into a false sense of security and then seduce him, forcing him to pay for his non-gratuitous services.
Kei frowned at him, looking, against all reason, offended. "I can tell what you're thinking, you know. It's not a trap."
"Are you even allowed?" Shige countered.
"I have certain freedoms as long as I maintain my reputation and my quota," Kei told him with a small, hopeful smile. "Just don't tell anyone I am consorting with you at no charge." His eyes shifted to the side for a moment before sliding back to Shige's. "Sullies the reputation, you see, lowers my price."
Shige just stared at him.
Kei cleared his throat, an affected gesture indicating nervousness and Shige was intrigued. "Would you like to have lunch?" he asked.
Unable to find a valid reason to refuse the mecha's company (maybe because he didn't want to find one), Shige agreed, disconcerted by Kei's slow answering smile. Which was almost as unsettling as the quiet, happy music that began playing between them, an upbeat tempo he unconsciously matched his steps to. He self-consciously chose a small restaurant off the beaten path, somewhere he didn't think any of his coworkers would visit, though he doubted any of them would care about his choice of company. He was fairly certain the rumor of Aoi 'marrying' a virtual A.I. was either true or Aoi would like it to be, and having his own 'coin-operated-boy' wouldn't top that for eccentricities among the nerds of his department.
Conversation was stilted at first, even Kei's extensive conversational skills not enough to cover for Shige's awkward. But once Kei got him started, it was easy to open up to him, his words spilling out in a flood that had him thinking about how long it had been since he had just talked with someone about anything that wasn't work or idle chatter to be polite. And Kei was all ears, chiming in at all the right places to keep him going, arms resting easily on the empty table space in front of him, just another reminder for Shige that even if he sounded human, he wasn't.
"What about you, though," Shige finally asked clumsily, tapping his fingers against the edge of his plate. Years of remembering to engage the other person nagging at him until he had to ask, though he had no idea what a mecha would have to say about the matter. "What do you… like to do?" He had to grimace at himself at that one. But Kei surprised him.
"I collect music," he replied excitedly, a grin spread wide across his face.
"M-music?" Shige asked, skeptical. Who ever heard of a robot having a hobby?
"There's just something about always having the right piece for the right moment. I mean, don't you ever get those times where something happens and you recall a piece of a song that just fits. And that makes you smile? Treasure the moment a little more?" Kei stared dreamily past Shige and Shige just wrinkled his forehead in confusion.
"I… guess? I mean, I hadn't really thought of it that way?"
Kei's eyes snapped to his and the mecha smiled impishly at him. "But I'm just a machine," he teased, and Shige lowered his eyes, twisting his napkin in his lap uneasily. Pushing back from the table, Kei stood, Shige automatically following. "I've had a wonderful time," he said with a genuine-looking smile and bowed shallowly. "I have to get going, but I hope we'll meet again sometime."
Shige stared at his retreating back, reaching back to rub the back of his neck, deep in thought.
---
All the lights were on as Shige waited, fingers tapping idly against the cheap bedspread the hotel made do with. Pretty enough, silky, but stiff and uncomfortable to lie under. Luckily he wasn't here for the quality linens, and he didn't plan to spend much time under the covers. He checked the time, neon red digital numbers mocking his impatience, but just then the door opened and Kei stepped through, long, lean limbs encased in a shimmery black material that only made his copper hair that much brighter.
Pink lips tilted up in a wide smile. "I was hoping you'd call for me," Kei said happily, shutting the door behind him and walking toward the bed, Shige swinging himself up off the bed to meet him, and they stood a few feet apart, just looking at each other.
"Of course you were," Shige said, wry. He swept his gaze from shiny patent black shoes to the top of Kei's perfectly coiffed 'do. "Must you dress like a prostitute?" he asked, voice pained, but Koyama just chuckled warmly.
"Next time I'll dress more conservatively," he purred, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers across Shige's cheek. After a hesitant beat, Shige leaned into the touch. Smoothly, Kei's hand slipped down Shige's jaw and behind his neck, pulling him forward into a bruising kiss. A quiet click followed by some harsh bass beat and a techno mix made Shige blink and he brought both hands up Kei's chest, trying to catch his balance, but Kei was already there, his other hand wrapping around Shige's waist and pulling him close. His heart beat rapidly as Kei's tongue swept across his lower lip, not gentle at all, but demanding, nothing like their last time but all the more intimate for how he felt out of control, controlled, and all he could do, all he wanted to do, was give in. So he did.
After, he lay panting in Kei's arms, flushed and sated, Kei tenderly pushing Shige's sweat-slicked bangs off his forehead and leaning in for a chaste kiss that made Shige giggle tiredly. After all that. A light mid-21st century pop song played in the background and Shige felt … good. No conflicting emotions, no questions. But just like that it came crashing back and he couldn't stop himself from shifting enough to run his fingers over Kei's neon-green registration plate embedded in his chest, then moving them out, tracing his contours.
"What am I doing," he whispered.
"Hmm?" Kei rubbed soothingly against him, leaning his cheek on the top of Shige's head.
"Nothing. What's that you're playing?"
"'Love You Like A Love Song,' 2011."
Laughing, Shige ducked his head under Kei's chin. "You're so strange."
"Am I?" Kei hummed happily, smoothing his fingers over Shige's arm. "I thought it fit."
Shige's smile faded when he realized with a start that yeah, it kind of did.
---
"So when do we get to meet him?" Tegoshi asked casually.
Shige choked on his drink and spent the next few seconds compulsively wiping at his glass with a napkin. "You know. Sometime. I don't want to rush things."
"Must be serious," Tegoshi said, nudging Massu's shoulder conspiratorially.
"Shige's always serious," Massu deadpanned. "Like last week when he used those paper cups and impersonated Madonna while he sang 'Like A Virgin.'"
Tegoshi burst into giggles at about the same time Shige emitted an offended squawk.
"Speaking of post-work meetings," Tegoshi said, "did your office end up picking up that serial virus case? The … pleasure lords of the city are really pressing the governor for a solution."
"Yeah, we took that one and shunted the other assignments to the D.A.T.A. department. But considering how it completes, there's not much to work with. Just the signature and fragments of what it decides to leave behind. The worst is that the subjects always re-infect even after rebooting," Shige said, thoughtful. "They've tagged it pretty high, considering the profession."
"Probably thinking that it'll get copied and fed into the more… productive mecha and they want to cut it off before it spirals out," Massu mused.
"Still," Tegoshi continued, "I wonder what kind of person starts picking off lover-mecha. Some vendetta. Probably their partner left them for a robot, or they caught them fooling around, and now they're all alone and taking their revenge on all male models." Tegoshi chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "Shige, you should make a novel out of it. 'Based on a true story.'"
"Yeah," Shige agreed distractedly, but either Tegoshi and Massu were too busy with making up their own stories to notice, or they'd decided he was thinking about complex coding and the case. Which he was, but on a much more personal level.
He wasn't the only one bothered by it. When he met with Kei several days later, the mecha kept drifting out of the conversation, absently stirring the coffee he'd never drink.
"What's wrong?" Shige asked hesitantly, pretty certain he already knew the answer.
But Kei just shook himself and smiled, bright and fragile, hands wrapping around the cooling ceramic. "Nothing. Do you want a refill?"
In reply, Shige reached out to run the back of his fingers over the pale underside of Kei's wrist into his palm, bringing a slow, suggestive smile to Kei's face. Gripping Shige's fingers in his, Kei stood, pulling Shige up after him, and for a moment he just looked into Shige's eyes, for what, Shige didn't know, but he liked the way it felt, Kei looking at him like he was something important, like he was more than just cash in his pocket, paying off his indefinite servitude.
Two weeks later, Kei sat silent under the wires tapped into his various ports, immobile in a corner of Shige's office. This was an official visit, one he'd sought permission from Kei's owner for, not that the pimp cared what was going on as long as he was getting paid for it. Kei just watched Shige trustingly, only his eyes tracking Shige's movements as he almost-danced in the middle of the room, searching through Kei's coding, gliding through his various software.
"I'm not sure," Kei offered, breaking the silence, "that I'm the ideal candidate for this."
"So you've said," Shige replied patiently. "But you've got the same software as the actual lover-mecha models. That software shouldn't be changed by interacting with… whatever other software you've got running in there." Shige paused a moment to smile at Kei. "Besides, if I'm going to pay to spend time with a lover-mecha, I really only want it to be you."
Kei laughed then, pleased, and Shige grinned, turning back to his work. Hours later he finished, carefully unhooking Kei and coiling the cords up while Kei stood and stretched, Shige watching admiringly as he did so. With Kei draping himself cheerfully over Shige, a sweet, happy music-box tune playing, impeding the clean-up process and making Shige grumble to cover the warm feeling burgeoning in his chest, Shige finally admitted that he was in love.
And like the turning point it was, Shige became more and more restless about his case, and about Kei's line of work. "Kei," he started, turning his head up in Kei's lap to look at him, "how much do you think it would cost to buy you out?"
With a sharp click Koyama shut off his music and looked down, brow furrowed. "For… how long?"
Shige thought he sounded hopeful, wanted it to be true. His swallow was loud in the edgy quiet, "Forever?"
"Shige," Kei breathed, tracing his fingers over Shige's cheek.
"I mean. If you would…" He had to believe that Kei wouldn't just come to him because he was just another owner. If Kei's programming made him treat Shige like he loved him, well, it felt real enough to him. And weren't humans programmed in their own way? He'd just have to trust him. "If you would like to be mine."
Bright wetness gathered in Kei's eyes and he bit his lip. "Sit up, Shige."
With a grunt Shige did so. Licking his lips nervously he shifted, moving one foot under him so he could face Kei. He felt nervous like he was 16 again and waiting for the boy he'd confessed to to give him an answer.
Slowly Kei leaned in and kissed him, cupping Shige's cheeks in his hands before he pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, Kei's warm breath ghosting over his lips. "I'm already yours."
Now it was Shige's turn to tear up, and he shifted forward to press their foreheads together, closing his eyes. "But?"
Kei pulled away, a flush rising to his cheeks as he looked down at his knees. "I was only repurposed a year ago. I… don't think you could afford it."
"We'll work something out," Shige said firmly, brushing his knuckles over Kei's jaw. He had always been a man of his word, but this was one promise he would keep with everything he had.
---
"How much to buy him out?" Shige asked, brusquely. It had taken him days to work up the nerve for this phone call, and now that he had the owner on the line, he was giddy with worry.
"Looking to get into the trade?" the pimp drawled, but there was an edge to his voice.
"Not at all. I'm just looking for something a little more permanent, is all. Something to come home to without the added strings of a flesh-and-blood partner, if you know what I mean."
"I understand. But I don't know… Kei is… very special to me. One of a kind. And he has his loyal customers who would, of course, be upset to lose him. Might even patronize another pleasure dealer. It would be difficult to part with him."
Shige had expected this, of course. He'd made no secret of his preference of Kei, insisting on no one but him, and the pimp would try to squeeze every extra penny out of him. "Oh yes, very special. A two-year-old mecha who had to be refurbished for the job. I prefer him for his quirks, of course, but he just can't stand up to a true lover-robot for technique." Shige was glad he'd insisted Kei not be here for this.
"What he lacks in finesse he makes up in enthusiasm," the man wheedled.
Shige sighed loudly. "Name your price."
"1,500,000 yen."
"Not on your life. A two-year-old unused lover-mecha goes for six hundred thousand. He's not only used, but refurbished. I'll give you that much."
"With use comes experience my friend. And his unique background adds value, in my opinion. A million two."
After minutes of enough dickering over Kei's value to make Shige sick, they finally even out at a million yen.
"Obviously I don't have that much in liquid assets. This is an… investment after all. Give me three weeks." Even that would be pushing it. He was going to have to sell a lot of shares and beg his friends for loans. He didn't think the bank would be jumping up and down to lend him a million yen for a pleasure mecha. Not without a business license. He'd get as much as he could and then get a personal loan to cover the rest.
"Sure, I don't have to give him up, you know. If someone willing to pay more comes along, they'll have him. And he continues to work in the meantime, of course."
As much as it grated on Shige, there was nothing he could do but agree.
Though Kei had made it no secret that he didn't mind his job, and often enjoyed it, it was equally clear that he was more than happy to give it all up to be with Shige full-time. They had little time to spend together, between Shige's extra hours on the serial virus and the self-inflicted hours of, well, begging. Now that he was so close to having Kei to himself, he became more and more jumpy about the strange lover-mecha killer still at large. The police were doing their best to try and link all the crashed mecha to a specific point of origin, but there were also plenty of flesh-and-blood cases to distract them, which they saw as more important, not that Shige could blame them even biased as he was. But, that being the case, he was so certain that his soon-to-be happiness would be foiled, despite Kei cheerfully assuring him between playful kisses that everything would be fine.
It started small, Kei having short spells of forgetfulness, or glitches that made his words or actions stutter. Kei laughed them off, and systems checks showed nothing unusual.
"See? I'm totally fine. I'll just update myself tonight and I'll be right as rain tomorrow." A bubbly, reassuring tune played quietly, but Kei clicked it off at Shige's stern look.
"I don't trust it, Kei. Something's wrong."
"You're just being paranoid," he said, reaching out to tug Shige to him and sliding his arms around him. "It's not like I let just anyone go around sticking things in my ports, heh."
Shige sighed.
Taking up a different tact, "Don't you want to enjoy our time together? You've been so busy," Kei whined pitifully, and Shige couldn't help but laugh.
"I always enjoy our time together. Now who's being paranoid?" he bantered back lightly, squeezing Kei tight, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
He set an appointment to see Kei three days later, insisting that Kei contact him every evening anyway, just to let him know things were all right.
Two nights later the evening passed without a single notification. Sick with worry, Shige had a hard time focusing, and he was finally sent home early with an admonishment to get some rest over the weekend or else. This virus wasn't going to cure itself.
Instead of resting, Shige paced, and kept pacing, until the clock told him that Kei was late, and he pushed panic back. Everything was fine. Kei was just… busy. Everything had been fine.
When there was a knock at the door, Shige finally stopped his pacing, rushing forward to wrench open the door. "Where have you b-"
"Hi," the man at the door said, and moved to lean languidly against the frame, leering at Shige. "I'm Jin, but I'll rub your lamp all. night. long." Jin moved quickly then, backing Shige up against the wall of the genkan and putting his hands in more places at once than Shige thought was possible.
Finally managing to capture both of the mecha's hands together, Shige looked Jin in the eyes and said slowly, "Where is Kei?"
Pouting, Jin pulled his hands away and stepped back. "Dunno. Didn't show up for his last few appointments. Boss sent me instead." The he smiled and waggled his eyebrows. "That's better for you, though. I'm way better than that reboot."
With a grimace, Shige bit back his retort and pulled out his cell, pulling up the number for Koyama's owner and dialing. "Where's Kei?" he asked, interrupting the pimp's spiel.
"No idea." Anger edged into the man's voice. "If you're hiding him to get out of making payments, you'll regret it."
"I'm not hiding him or wouldn't have called to find out why the hell you sent me someone else."
"Fine. Damn it, that's a lot of money gone missing. Fucking put a lot of cash into that damn thing, getting him up to standard. It's not even broken even yet and then this shit." There was a pause and Shige could practically hear the guy getting a hold of himself. "Be glad I sent you Jin. Same price for a better product. If you don't want him, send him back. Not refunding though. I'm sure you've gotten more out of Kei than you've paid for, the damn softie. Soft in the head-"
"It's not the money I'm worried about," Shige spit out between clenched teeth. "Don't you have GPS on him or something?"
"The fuck are you so invested for? That went out a couple days ago. Hadn't gotten around to checking it. He's reliable enough."
Shige felt himself trembling and he hung up numbly. "Get out," he told Jin, mind working feverishly, and he barely registered the mecha leaving, irritated frown on its face.
Worry knotted itself tightly in his gut as he paced, thinking, coming up with ideas and dismissing them all. Finally, he did the only thing that was even remotely viable, even if it was 99% impossible.
"Tegoshi," he said quickly, phone cradled against his ear, "where are you now? Are you at work?"
"…Yes? It's 9pm, where else would I be?"
"Have you taken your break yet?"
"I was just about to, why-"
"Meet me at that beef bowl place across the street?" and he wasn't begging, not yet, but he would if he had to.
"Shige, what's wrong?" Tegoshi asked, worry creeping into his voice, and Shige felt a little guilty.
"I'll tell you when you get there, okay?" softening his voice a little, trying to sound less frantic.
"All right."
Tegoshi was waiting for him when he got there, watching in the other direction with a frown on his face, half-eaten bowl of gyuudon in front of him. When Shige slid into the seat across from him he looked up quickly, mouth already opening to demand answers, but Shige cut him off, holding up his hand.
"I need a favor."
Since Tegoshi's job entailed working for a somewhat sensitive branch of the government, he was understandably defensive when he heard these words, and Shige watched his shoulders tense, brow wrinkling further. And he had every right to be defensive this time.
Shige pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a couple times before turning it to face Tegoshi. "I need to find him. I don't want to put you in this position," he said, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. "I've never wanted to. But I need you, Tegoshi." He'd get down on his knees if that was what it took, but not here, unless he really wanted to draw attention to Tegoshi and make it more likely to get him in trouble.
Sighing, Tegoshi took the phone from him, eyeing the picture and running a hand through his hair in a familiar (though rarely seen on Tegoshi) gesture of frustration. "You desperately need me to find a mecha," he said mildly, meeting Shige's eyes.
Pride was everything to Shige, and he swallowed it without a second thought. "It's Kei."
"This?" Tegoshi exclaimed, eyes widening. "This is Kei? You're in love with mecha?"
"Tegoshi," Shige hissed. "I don't have time to justify this to you. You know me. And I am begging you with everything I have: help me find him. Fast."
Tegoshi inhaled sharply, rubbing his chin and grimacing. "You think the serial killer has infected him?"
"I'm almost positive. He's been having issues. We thought his update would take care of it. I checked his anti-virus myself, but… he's somewhere. Can you…"
"Not only could I lose my job for this, Shige, I could go to jail."
"For abusing the system to stalk a robot? No one will think twice about him. He's not attached to anyone famous. And you won't get caught, right? But I do know the risks I'm asking you to take. I'm sorry."
Tegoshi looked back at the photo and pursed his lips. "We're not due to test the facial recognition system for another week and a half." With a grunt he rubbed the back of his neck and shoved the phone toward Shige. "Mail it to me. I'll figure something out. It'll take a few hours at the least, you know. Tokyo's no small town."
Tears sprang to Shige's eyes and he had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a whimper of relief. "Tegoshi. Really. 'I owe you,' doesn't even begin to cover it."
"Damn right," Tegoshi said. "And don't think I won't think of creative ways for you to make it up to me, either."
"I can't even care right now."
"Good," he replied, scraping his chair back as he stood. "You can start by paying for my dinner." Then he sighed. "I suddenly have a lot of bullshit to make up."
"Good thing you're good at that," Shige retorted, laughing weakly. He watched Tegoshi walk out, the man waving vaguely over his shoulder as he left, before his stomach grumbled. It might be a while, he thought, before pulling Tegoshi's bowl up. No sense wasting good food when he had a lot of his own work to do.
When Tegoshi called him, he was ass-deep in coding, trying to unravel the signature of the virus they'd been working on for the last few weeks. There wasn't even enough left to infect a live subject so they could actually have something to work with. Disengaging the virtual view, he told his phone to answer, and Tegoshi's voice echoed across the room.
"Found him, I think."
Shige grabbed for his phone, pulling up the pictures Tegoshi was sending and sliding them off his phone with a flick of his fingers and blowing them up on his coding screen. There were hundreds of photos, and Shige hid the ones that probably weren't right, pinching them into tiny pinpricks of color, until he had a time lapse view of the last 24 hours of Kei's existence, wrapped around his office.
"Pull up 3 and 15 of the last closed ones, Shige. They're about in the right area for the time."
Expanding those brought up two grainy photos, zoomed in on the mouth of an alley at two different times. In the first, someone was leaning face-first against the wall, one forearm keeping his forehead from coming in contact with it. In the second, the figure was crumpled in an undignified and almost unidentifiable heap if he didn't have the first picture as reference, two-thirds of his face toward the camera. Shige was torn between wanting it to be him because at least he knew where he was, and not wanting it to be because if he'd crashed… that meant the virus had probably completed and the Kei he knew was as good as dead.
"It's the only thing I've got," Shige said grimly. "Thanks, Tegoshi. I'll track the image address and go find out if it's him."
There was a moment of hush and Shige wondered if Tegoshi had hung up on him for some reason. But then he spoke. "Good luck, Shige," and then a click resounding in the silence.
Grabbing his coat, Shige told the office to sleep, and stepped out. Unable to make himself wait for public transportation, Shige called up a cab and counted the seconds it took to get to the address in an attempt to keep from thinking about what he was going to do if Kei had completely crashed. But as they neared the alley, he couldn't help but press close to the window and stare out, trying to make out Kei's face amid the piles of rubbish surrounding the place.
As the driver pulled to a stop, Shige fumbled several bills over the seatback. "Wait for me," he said quickly, hand on the door like pushing at it would make the driver move faster. Finally it swung open and he leapt out, striding over to the shadow of the fallen man. When he recognized Kei's face planted against a plastic bag, he felt bile rise, and he was at the mecha's side in moments, hands tugging frantically at his jacket, trying to get him up, out, anything. Too heavy, for all he seemed so light.
He felt tears slipping over his cheeks, a warm cocktail of frustration and fear. Letting go, he jogged back to the driver's door. "I'll give you 2,000 just to help me get him in the car." He peeled off a crisp 2,000 yen bill and pushed it toward him. "Come on," he added, impatient, impolite, not that he cared.
With a grumble the driver shoved at his own door and stepped out, a bulky man, Shige absently noted thankfully. Also quiet, another plus, as they hauled Kei into the car, shoving him unceremoniously in and letting him slump down over the seat. Rushing around to the other side, Shige slid into the slim space left to him, levering Kei's head up and into his lap while he told the cabbie to head back to his office.
On the way he made a quick call to Tegoshi to let him know of his sort-of success, and he was grateful for the way Tegoshi was trying to sound like he cared about this mecha Shige had happened to fall in love with. The concern was genuine, but for Shige alone, and Shige tried to sound hopeful for him. Tegoshi wouldn't understand everything going through his head. Another frantic call went to his boss who agreed to meet him at the office, sleepy confusion muddling his speech.
By the time Kusanagi got there, Shige had Kei laid out on the floor, all hooked up, his coding spelled out all around them.
"What's going on, Kato?" his boss yawned. "It's fucking early. Late. Whatever."
"I… I have a live sample of the virus. It looks like he shut himself down in the last stages to stop the virus from completing. I have him in system stasis at the moment."
Rubbing his eyes, Kusanagi stared around him at the corrupted data. "How did you get him?" he asked, still confused.
Shige refused to look up, fiddling with a cord. "I… he's…"
Kusanagi's eyebrows shot up. "You're a client?" he asked, incredulous. "What about that guy you're totally in love with? Oh, this is rich." When Shige didn't speak, he let out a harsh breath, like he'd been punched in the gut, Shige's eyes darting up to meet his, defiant. "This is him? Oh, Kato…"
"What do you care?" Shige said severely, disliking the pity, unsure of its source. "You get a live sample, and I get a chance to save him. Win-win."
Kusanagi ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "You had him in here a month ago, right? Did you make a copy?"
Shige nodded, calling out a few key words that pulled up the file, compressing the codes so that they read side-by-side on the same wall, corrupted and not.
"Kato, from a purely scientific standpoint, this is amazing."
One man's loss was another man's gain. Shige tried hard to think of the good that could come of his personal pain. And even though he wished his relationship hadn't come to light quite like this, he was grateful to have his team behind him, even if it was purely for the sake of science.
Three days later, the serial "killer" was caught through some random fluke.
"You've got to be kidding me," Tegoshi said, voice flat as he and Shige sat in front of the television, Shige struggling not to fall asleep. "It's seriously a sexually transmitted virus? That's… I don't even know what to say to that…"
"What?" Shige slurred, sitting up properly. "STD?"
"Yeah, the perp says, see? I was right, that he was trying to eliminate all male lover-mecha to keep anyone from having to go through the pain he did when he discovered his wife fooling around on him with one. He slept around with any woman he could, infecting them with this STD that's completely harmless in humans, but would transfer to the mecha through an 'unfaithful' woman. Insidiously genius."
"STD," Shige repeated stupidly.
"Shige… go to bed," Tegoshi told him, looking at him worriedly. "You're so tired you're repeating yourself. I can let myself out."
"No. What?" He rose quickly and dashed into his room, catching his shoulder painfully on the corner as he rounded it. He came back around not thirty seconds later dressed and jangling his keys. "Let yourself out," he yelled as he slammed the front door behind him.
After round-the-clock work on the virus, they'd nearly finished the anti-virus, but in every scenario they ran, Kei had re-infected, and they couldn't work out how. Now Shige knew. Despite what the systems said, there was a hardware compromise. And as embarrassing as it was going to be to explain this to his boss, at least they knew what to do next.
Predictably Kusanagi had let out a surprised guffaw of laughter after Shige explained the situation, and while they and Miyaji, their resident hardware guy, got to know Kei's "hardware" more intimately than Shige had ever wanted, he kept cracking jokes about how apparently even mecha needed to wear good old-fashioned rubbers. Shige, however, had other things on his mind, namely how Kei would be after reboot. Or rather if he would still be Kei.
Hours and hours and too many cups of coffee later, the three of them stared at Kei, fully reassembled and ready to be switched on. The last two simulations had run clean.
"Go on, Kato," Kusanagi urged gently, and Shige shot him a grateful look, choking back a wave of trepidation.
With a click, Kei's systems went fully online, fans humming into animation slowly and then into a fast whir they couldn't hear, but made Kei's pseudo-flesh vibrate with an approximation of life. Kei's scrubbed system took a few minutes to readjust to its re-installed programming, and, then, his eyes opened.
"Kei," Shige choked out, finally taking a deep breath, and the mecha turned its head to him.
"Shige," he said fondly, after only a moment's hesitation, and Kusanagi let out a strangled cheer that finally brought out Shige's tears.
"Running clean," Miyaji chimed in, watching the screens.
"What's going on?" Kei asked, turning his lips down in a confused frown. "Why am I on the floor?" Then he sat up with a start, fingers running over himself. "What's going on?" he asked again, in a slight panic. "Things are fuzzy. Why is my server telling me that it's 39 days later than it should be?"
"Calm down," Shige said, kneeling next to him and laying a hand over Kei's. "You had a virus. The virus, really. And I'm sorry, but I didn't copy any of your music before, so you've lost it all." It probably sounded inane to Kusanagi and Miyaji, but Shige wanted to make sure, really sure that this was his Kei, exactly as he had been.
Kei frowned to himself, obviously accessing all his files, and then he bit his lip when he discovered that Shige was right. But then he turned his hand over and curled his fingers around Shige's. "It's okay, Shige. I still have you," he said shyly. "Right?"
Shige let his smile rise, high and wide. "Always."
You stand alone, to every record I own
Music to my heart, that's what you are
A song that goes on and on
Characters/Pairing: Koyama/Shige
Rating: PG-13
Words: 7,000
Warnings: prostitution
Summary: Shige might have been a little desperate when he made a call to the pleasure pimp, but he had no idea that he'd just changed his life - "once you've had a lover-robot you'll never want a real man again."
Notes: For my dearest carmine_pink. I hope you don't regret doing this. XD But I hope even more that this makes your holiday season even happier for you. <3 Set in the universe of the movie Artificial Intelligence. Title a mashup of BigTimeRush and Selena Gomez songs. Cut text from Gym Class Heroes' "Stereo Hearts," end quote from "Love you Like A Love Song". Part of a small Secret Santa (will update as they finish posting.)
bananyphophany | beltenebra | carmine_pink | imifumei | rockthecliche | yey-yey
---
The first time Shige saw him, the man was dancing into neon puddles, sending black ripples through them and ruining the reflected words. An electric blue umbrella was held carelessly above his head as though forgotten, a tinny 1950s show tune playing around him, nearly drowned out by the city's night noise. It was such a shocking sight that Shige stopped to watch in confused awe as water splashed unheeded and soaked into the stranger's pant-legs, darkening them.
Finally noticing his audience, the man stilled, tawny hair darkened by water and mussed, and grinned sheepishly at Shige, a nervous tick twitching his head to the side, at which the music shut off abruptly. And that's when Shige realized, taking in a face whose sheen couldn't be chalked up to just the rain, that he wasn't a man at all.
It wasn't as though no other mecha could play music on command, but that paired with his flashy and suave good looks told Shige that this was a lover-robot, if an eccentric one. For one, they didn't typically play music for themselves, or jump around in puddles dirtying their clothing (appearances are everything for them), or walk (dance) around like they had no agenda. Especially when they did have one, like Shige knew this one did. Because it was here for him.
Smoothly turning, Shige entered the hotel without saying a word, paying up and taking the key from the uninterested receptionist. His blush deepened as he stepped further into the hotel, hearing the mecha several feet behind him, casually matching his steps, pausing when he stopped in front of his room, and then resuming as Shige stepped through the door, the robot closing it softly behind himself.
Not for the first time, Shige wondered why he'd finally decided to go through with this. He couldn't bring himself to turn and face the mecha so he went to the opposite side of room to twitch back the curtains framing the false window, watched the city night scene displayed, caught the little glitch as it hit the repeater.
And then the mecha spoke, from just behind Shige, and, even though his tone was quiet, it startled him. He hadn't heard him come up. "Have you done this before? I wouldn't ask, but you seem nervous."
"What's your name?" Shige blurted, and there was a slight pause before he answered.
"Kei."
"No snappy phrase? Lover-mecha usually have one, right?"
He laughed, a high sort of chuckle Shige hadn't expected. "Don't need one," he leered, but the effect was slightly ruined by his amused smile.
Shige turned, then, stepping back a bit eyeing Kei's clothing. "Do you make it a habit to jump in puddles before you do these things?"
The mecha gave him a chagrined look. "I got caught up in the moment. But it was raining anyway," it said with a smile.
Such a strange choice of words for a machine, Shige thought. "Are you really… You're not very good at this are you?"
He narrowed his eyes then, and smiled wolfishly, placing one hand against the wall next to Shige's shoulder and leaning into Shige's space, running a slim hand down Shige's chest to rest on his belt buckle. "Oh, I'm very good at this," he said, his voice in a lower, smoother register that tumbled his words into a careless sort of polish.
Trembling slightly, Shige let out a heavy breath.
His eyes softened. "Is this your first time? Are you afraid?" Kei asked gently, placing a finger under Shige's chin and tilting it up until Shige met his eyes. "You can tell me."
Shige licked his lips nervously. "Yes."
"I promise there's nothing to be afraid of," he told him, waiting calmly for Shige's assent.
Taking a deep breath, Shige held his gaze before nodding.
---
Shige left his first experience with a pleasure mecha both elated and disturbed. The robot had been almost tender with Shige, something hard to find this day and age, even among people - though he supposed he'd paid enough to get exactly what he wanted, even if he hadn't known what that was until Kei had shown him. As much as Shige wanted to think he just wanted to fuck and be fucked, to be with some unknown thing with no attachments, he'd shown his true colors when he'd asked for a name.
Hanging his head with a sigh, Shige admitted to himself that cynical though he might be, he was apparently a hopeless romantic at heart.
He'd almost been able to put the whole incident out of his mind, at least for a few hours, when he saw Kei step outside a boutique in Shinjuku. His hair was black this time, and he was dressed impeccably in a blue, tailored suit - looking like the kind of man a girl would take home to meet the parents. A waifish girl followed him out, smiling shyly up at him, and Kei turned, took the girl's hand in one of his and brought it to his lips, a lascivious smirk on his face as he met her eyes. Ducking her head, she turned away, hiding her face from Shige, and began walking. Kei, though, came right toward him, a legitimate spring in his step and light smile on his face that widened when he noticed Shige standing there, frozen.
"Hi, Shige," he said brightly, leaning carelessly against a pole to Shige's right and nonchalantly watching passersby , courteous in case Shige didn't want to engage him, ever the gentleman.
Burning flashes of soft fingers exploring his body, plush lips pressing against his skin and bringing a blush to it, and Shige shuddered, cheeks reddening, stuck in some sort of insidious loop. "Hi, Kei," he replied quietly, jarring himself into motion. When he started walking, Kei casually fell into step beside him. "Surprised to see you out during the day."
Kei quirked up one side of his lips. "Love doesn't just happen in the night," he said softly, and Shige snorted, blushing again.
"I'm not sure I would call that love," he retorted, quickening his stride.
"If you want me to leave you," the mecha told him calmly, keeping pace, their arms brushing together mid-swing , "you need only ask."
The reasonable thing would be to tell him to leave. Shige didn't need him following him around, raising questions he didn't feel like answering. He came to an abrupt stop, turning toward Kei and searching his face. He saw nothing but a gentle sort of curiosity.
"I don't want your… services," Shige insisted nervously, obviously a lie.
"My services are wider than you think. My company, however, at this point in time, is free of charge. I have nothing on my schedule for several hours."
Shige gaped at him. "You have free time. You have free time and you'd like to keep me company." This felt like some sort of alternate reality. It had to be some sort of trick. It would lull him into a false sense of security and then seduce him, forcing him to pay for his non-gratuitous services.
Kei frowned at him, looking, against all reason, offended. "I can tell what you're thinking, you know. It's not a trap."
"Are you even allowed?" Shige countered.
"I have certain freedoms as long as I maintain my reputation and my quota," Kei told him with a small, hopeful smile. "Just don't tell anyone I am consorting with you at no charge." His eyes shifted to the side for a moment before sliding back to Shige's. "Sullies the reputation, you see, lowers my price."
Shige just stared at him.
Kei cleared his throat, an affected gesture indicating nervousness and Shige was intrigued. "Would you like to have lunch?" he asked.
Unable to find a valid reason to refuse the mecha's company (maybe because he didn't want to find one), Shige agreed, disconcerted by Kei's slow answering smile. Which was almost as unsettling as the quiet, happy music that began playing between them, an upbeat tempo he unconsciously matched his steps to. He self-consciously chose a small restaurant off the beaten path, somewhere he didn't think any of his coworkers would visit, though he doubted any of them would care about his choice of company. He was fairly certain the rumor of Aoi 'marrying' a virtual A.I. was either true or Aoi would like it to be, and having his own 'coin-operated-boy' wouldn't top that for eccentricities among the nerds of his department.
Conversation was stilted at first, even Kei's extensive conversational skills not enough to cover for Shige's awkward. But once Kei got him started, it was easy to open up to him, his words spilling out in a flood that had him thinking about how long it had been since he had just talked with someone about anything that wasn't work or idle chatter to be polite. And Kei was all ears, chiming in at all the right places to keep him going, arms resting easily on the empty table space in front of him, just another reminder for Shige that even if he sounded human, he wasn't.
"What about you, though," Shige finally asked clumsily, tapping his fingers against the edge of his plate. Years of remembering to engage the other person nagging at him until he had to ask, though he had no idea what a mecha would have to say about the matter. "What do you… like to do?" He had to grimace at himself at that one. But Kei surprised him.
"I collect music," he replied excitedly, a grin spread wide across his face.
"M-music?" Shige asked, skeptical. Who ever heard of a robot having a hobby?
"There's just something about always having the right piece for the right moment. I mean, don't you ever get those times where something happens and you recall a piece of a song that just fits. And that makes you smile? Treasure the moment a little more?" Kei stared dreamily past Shige and Shige just wrinkled his forehead in confusion.
"I… guess? I mean, I hadn't really thought of it that way?"
Kei's eyes snapped to his and the mecha smiled impishly at him. "But I'm just a machine," he teased, and Shige lowered his eyes, twisting his napkin in his lap uneasily. Pushing back from the table, Kei stood, Shige automatically following. "I've had a wonderful time," he said with a genuine-looking smile and bowed shallowly. "I have to get going, but I hope we'll meet again sometime."
Shige stared at his retreating back, reaching back to rub the back of his neck, deep in thought.
---
All the lights were on as Shige waited, fingers tapping idly against the cheap bedspread the hotel made do with. Pretty enough, silky, but stiff and uncomfortable to lie under. Luckily he wasn't here for the quality linens, and he didn't plan to spend much time under the covers. He checked the time, neon red digital numbers mocking his impatience, but just then the door opened and Kei stepped through, long, lean limbs encased in a shimmery black material that only made his copper hair that much brighter.
Pink lips tilted up in a wide smile. "I was hoping you'd call for me," Kei said happily, shutting the door behind him and walking toward the bed, Shige swinging himself up off the bed to meet him, and they stood a few feet apart, just looking at each other.
"Of course you were," Shige said, wry. He swept his gaze from shiny patent black shoes to the top of Kei's perfectly coiffed 'do. "Must you dress like a prostitute?" he asked, voice pained, but Koyama just chuckled warmly.
"Next time I'll dress more conservatively," he purred, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers across Shige's cheek. After a hesitant beat, Shige leaned into the touch. Smoothly, Kei's hand slipped down Shige's jaw and behind his neck, pulling him forward into a bruising kiss. A quiet click followed by some harsh bass beat and a techno mix made Shige blink and he brought both hands up Kei's chest, trying to catch his balance, but Kei was already there, his other hand wrapping around Shige's waist and pulling him close. His heart beat rapidly as Kei's tongue swept across his lower lip, not gentle at all, but demanding, nothing like their last time but all the more intimate for how he felt out of control, controlled, and all he could do, all he wanted to do, was give in. So he did.
After, he lay panting in Kei's arms, flushed and sated, Kei tenderly pushing Shige's sweat-slicked bangs off his forehead and leaning in for a chaste kiss that made Shige giggle tiredly. After all that. A light mid-21st century pop song played in the background and Shige felt … good. No conflicting emotions, no questions. But just like that it came crashing back and he couldn't stop himself from shifting enough to run his fingers over Kei's neon-green registration plate embedded in his chest, then moving them out, tracing his contours.
"What am I doing," he whispered.
"Hmm?" Kei rubbed soothingly against him, leaning his cheek on the top of Shige's head.
"Nothing. What's that you're playing?"
"'Love You Like A Love Song,' 2011."
Laughing, Shige ducked his head under Kei's chin. "You're so strange."
"Am I?" Kei hummed happily, smoothing his fingers over Shige's arm. "I thought it fit."
Shige's smile faded when he realized with a start that yeah, it kind of did.
---
"So when do we get to meet him?" Tegoshi asked casually.
Shige choked on his drink and spent the next few seconds compulsively wiping at his glass with a napkin. "You know. Sometime. I don't want to rush things."
"Must be serious," Tegoshi said, nudging Massu's shoulder conspiratorially.
"Shige's always serious," Massu deadpanned. "Like last week when he used those paper cups and impersonated Madonna while he sang 'Like A Virgin.'"
Tegoshi burst into giggles at about the same time Shige emitted an offended squawk.
"Speaking of post-work meetings," Tegoshi said, "did your office end up picking up that serial virus case? The … pleasure lords of the city are really pressing the governor for a solution."
"Yeah, we took that one and shunted the other assignments to the D.A.T.A. department. But considering how it completes, there's not much to work with. Just the signature and fragments of what it decides to leave behind. The worst is that the subjects always re-infect even after rebooting," Shige said, thoughtful. "They've tagged it pretty high, considering the profession."
"Probably thinking that it'll get copied and fed into the more… productive mecha and they want to cut it off before it spirals out," Massu mused.
"Still," Tegoshi continued, "I wonder what kind of person starts picking off lover-mecha. Some vendetta. Probably their partner left them for a robot, or they caught them fooling around, and now they're all alone and taking their revenge on all male models." Tegoshi chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "Shige, you should make a novel out of it. 'Based on a true story.'"
"Yeah," Shige agreed distractedly, but either Tegoshi and Massu were too busy with making up their own stories to notice, or they'd decided he was thinking about complex coding and the case. Which he was, but on a much more personal level.
He wasn't the only one bothered by it. When he met with Kei several days later, the mecha kept drifting out of the conversation, absently stirring the coffee he'd never drink.
"What's wrong?" Shige asked hesitantly, pretty certain he already knew the answer.
But Kei just shook himself and smiled, bright and fragile, hands wrapping around the cooling ceramic. "Nothing. Do you want a refill?"
In reply, Shige reached out to run the back of his fingers over the pale underside of Kei's wrist into his palm, bringing a slow, suggestive smile to Kei's face. Gripping Shige's fingers in his, Kei stood, pulling Shige up after him, and for a moment he just looked into Shige's eyes, for what, Shige didn't know, but he liked the way it felt, Kei looking at him like he was something important, like he was more than just cash in his pocket, paying off his indefinite servitude.
Two weeks later, Kei sat silent under the wires tapped into his various ports, immobile in a corner of Shige's office. This was an official visit, one he'd sought permission from Kei's owner for, not that the pimp cared what was going on as long as he was getting paid for it. Kei just watched Shige trustingly, only his eyes tracking Shige's movements as he almost-danced in the middle of the room, searching through Kei's coding, gliding through his various software.
"I'm not sure," Kei offered, breaking the silence, "that I'm the ideal candidate for this."
"So you've said," Shige replied patiently. "But you've got the same software as the actual lover-mecha models. That software shouldn't be changed by interacting with… whatever other software you've got running in there." Shige paused a moment to smile at Kei. "Besides, if I'm going to pay to spend time with a lover-mecha, I really only want it to be you."
Kei laughed then, pleased, and Shige grinned, turning back to his work. Hours later he finished, carefully unhooking Kei and coiling the cords up while Kei stood and stretched, Shige watching admiringly as he did so. With Kei draping himself cheerfully over Shige, a sweet, happy music-box tune playing, impeding the clean-up process and making Shige grumble to cover the warm feeling burgeoning in his chest, Shige finally admitted that he was in love.
And like the turning point it was, Shige became more and more restless about his case, and about Kei's line of work. "Kei," he started, turning his head up in Kei's lap to look at him, "how much do you think it would cost to buy you out?"
With a sharp click Koyama shut off his music and looked down, brow furrowed. "For… how long?"
Shige thought he sounded hopeful, wanted it to be true. His swallow was loud in the edgy quiet, "Forever?"
"Shige," Kei breathed, tracing his fingers over Shige's cheek.
"I mean. If you would…" He had to believe that Kei wouldn't just come to him because he was just another owner. If Kei's programming made him treat Shige like he loved him, well, it felt real enough to him. And weren't humans programmed in their own way? He'd just have to trust him. "If you would like to be mine."
Bright wetness gathered in Kei's eyes and he bit his lip. "Sit up, Shige."
With a grunt Shige did so. Licking his lips nervously he shifted, moving one foot under him so he could face Kei. He felt nervous like he was 16 again and waiting for the boy he'd confessed to to give him an answer.
Slowly Kei leaned in and kissed him, cupping Shige's cheeks in his hands before he pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, Kei's warm breath ghosting over his lips. "I'm already yours."
Now it was Shige's turn to tear up, and he shifted forward to press their foreheads together, closing his eyes. "But?"
Kei pulled away, a flush rising to his cheeks as he looked down at his knees. "I was only repurposed a year ago. I… don't think you could afford it."
"We'll work something out," Shige said firmly, brushing his knuckles over Kei's jaw. He had always been a man of his word, but this was one promise he would keep with everything he had.
---
"How much to buy him out?" Shige asked, brusquely. It had taken him days to work up the nerve for this phone call, and now that he had the owner on the line, he was giddy with worry.
"Looking to get into the trade?" the pimp drawled, but there was an edge to his voice.
"Not at all. I'm just looking for something a little more permanent, is all. Something to come home to without the added strings of a flesh-and-blood partner, if you know what I mean."
"I understand. But I don't know… Kei is… very special to me. One of a kind. And he has his loyal customers who would, of course, be upset to lose him. Might even patronize another pleasure dealer. It would be difficult to part with him."
Shige had expected this, of course. He'd made no secret of his preference of Kei, insisting on no one but him, and the pimp would try to squeeze every extra penny out of him. "Oh yes, very special. A two-year-old mecha who had to be refurbished for the job. I prefer him for his quirks, of course, but he just can't stand up to a true lover-robot for technique." Shige was glad he'd insisted Kei not be here for this.
"What he lacks in finesse he makes up in enthusiasm," the man wheedled.
Shige sighed loudly. "Name your price."
"1,500,000 yen."
"Not on your life. A two-year-old unused lover-mecha goes for six hundred thousand. He's not only used, but refurbished. I'll give you that much."
"With use comes experience my friend. And his unique background adds value, in my opinion. A million two."
After minutes of enough dickering over Kei's value to make Shige sick, they finally even out at a million yen.
"Obviously I don't have that much in liquid assets. This is an… investment after all. Give me three weeks." Even that would be pushing it. He was going to have to sell a lot of shares and beg his friends for loans. He didn't think the bank would be jumping up and down to lend him a million yen for a pleasure mecha. Not without a business license. He'd get as much as he could and then get a personal loan to cover the rest.
"Sure, I don't have to give him up, you know. If someone willing to pay more comes along, they'll have him. And he continues to work in the meantime, of course."
As much as it grated on Shige, there was nothing he could do but agree.
Though Kei had made it no secret that he didn't mind his job, and often enjoyed it, it was equally clear that he was more than happy to give it all up to be with Shige full-time. They had little time to spend together, between Shige's extra hours on the serial virus and the self-inflicted hours of, well, begging. Now that he was so close to having Kei to himself, he became more and more jumpy about the strange lover-mecha killer still at large. The police were doing their best to try and link all the crashed mecha to a specific point of origin, but there were also plenty of flesh-and-blood cases to distract them, which they saw as more important, not that Shige could blame them even biased as he was. But, that being the case, he was so certain that his soon-to-be happiness would be foiled, despite Kei cheerfully assuring him between playful kisses that everything would be fine.
It started small, Kei having short spells of forgetfulness, or glitches that made his words or actions stutter. Kei laughed them off, and systems checks showed nothing unusual.
"See? I'm totally fine. I'll just update myself tonight and I'll be right as rain tomorrow." A bubbly, reassuring tune played quietly, but Kei clicked it off at Shige's stern look.
"I don't trust it, Kei. Something's wrong."
"You're just being paranoid," he said, reaching out to tug Shige to him and sliding his arms around him. "It's not like I let just anyone go around sticking things in my ports, heh."
Shige sighed.
Taking up a different tact, "Don't you want to enjoy our time together? You've been so busy," Kei whined pitifully, and Shige couldn't help but laugh.
"I always enjoy our time together. Now who's being paranoid?" he bantered back lightly, squeezing Kei tight, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
He set an appointment to see Kei three days later, insisting that Kei contact him every evening anyway, just to let him know things were all right.
Two nights later the evening passed without a single notification. Sick with worry, Shige had a hard time focusing, and he was finally sent home early with an admonishment to get some rest over the weekend or else. This virus wasn't going to cure itself.
Instead of resting, Shige paced, and kept pacing, until the clock told him that Kei was late, and he pushed panic back. Everything was fine. Kei was just… busy. Everything had been fine.
When there was a knock at the door, Shige finally stopped his pacing, rushing forward to wrench open the door. "Where have you b-"
"Hi," the man at the door said, and moved to lean languidly against the frame, leering at Shige. "I'm Jin, but I'll rub your lamp all. night. long." Jin moved quickly then, backing Shige up against the wall of the genkan and putting his hands in more places at once than Shige thought was possible.
Finally managing to capture both of the mecha's hands together, Shige looked Jin in the eyes and said slowly, "Where is Kei?"
Pouting, Jin pulled his hands away and stepped back. "Dunno. Didn't show up for his last few appointments. Boss sent me instead." The he smiled and waggled his eyebrows. "That's better for you, though. I'm way better than that reboot."
With a grimace, Shige bit back his retort and pulled out his cell, pulling up the number for Koyama's owner and dialing. "Where's Kei?" he asked, interrupting the pimp's spiel.
"No idea." Anger edged into the man's voice. "If you're hiding him to get out of making payments, you'll regret it."
"I'm not hiding him or wouldn't have called to find out why the hell you sent me someone else."
"Fine. Damn it, that's a lot of money gone missing. Fucking put a lot of cash into that damn thing, getting him up to standard. It's not even broken even yet and then this shit." There was a pause and Shige could practically hear the guy getting a hold of himself. "Be glad I sent you Jin. Same price for a better product. If you don't want him, send him back. Not refunding though. I'm sure you've gotten more out of Kei than you've paid for, the damn softie. Soft in the head-"
"It's not the money I'm worried about," Shige spit out between clenched teeth. "Don't you have GPS on him or something?"
"The fuck are you so invested for? That went out a couple days ago. Hadn't gotten around to checking it. He's reliable enough."
Shige felt himself trembling and he hung up numbly. "Get out," he told Jin, mind working feverishly, and he barely registered the mecha leaving, irritated frown on its face.
Worry knotted itself tightly in his gut as he paced, thinking, coming up with ideas and dismissing them all. Finally, he did the only thing that was even remotely viable, even if it was 99% impossible.
"Tegoshi," he said quickly, phone cradled against his ear, "where are you now? Are you at work?"
"…Yes? It's 9pm, where else would I be?"
"Have you taken your break yet?"
"I was just about to, why-"
"Meet me at that beef bowl place across the street?" and he wasn't begging, not yet, but he would if he had to.
"Shige, what's wrong?" Tegoshi asked, worry creeping into his voice, and Shige felt a little guilty.
"I'll tell you when you get there, okay?" softening his voice a little, trying to sound less frantic.
"All right."
Tegoshi was waiting for him when he got there, watching in the other direction with a frown on his face, half-eaten bowl of gyuudon in front of him. When Shige slid into the seat across from him he looked up quickly, mouth already opening to demand answers, but Shige cut him off, holding up his hand.
"I need a favor."
Since Tegoshi's job entailed working for a somewhat sensitive branch of the government, he was understandably defensive when he heard these words, and Shige watched his shoulders tense, brow wrinkling further. And he had every right to be defensive this time.
Shige pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a couple times before turning it to face Tegoshi. "I need to find him. I don't want to put you in this position," he said, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. "I've never wanted to. But I need you, Tegoshi." He'd get down on his knees if that was what it took, but not here, unless he really wanted to draw attention to Tegoshi and make it more likely to get him in trouble.
Sighing, Tegoshi took the phone from him, eyeing the picture and running a hand through his hair in a familiar (though rarely seen on Tegoshi) gesture of frustration. "You desperately need me to find a mecha," he said mildly, meeting Shige's eyes.
Pride was everything to Shige, and he swallowed it without a second thought. "It's Kei."
"This?" Tegoshi exclaimed, eyes widening. "This is Kei? You're in love with mecha?"
"Tegoshi," Shige hissed. "I don't have time to justify this to you. You know me. And I am begging you with everything I have: help me find him. Fast."
Tegoshi inhaled sharply, rubbing his chin and grimacing. "You think the serial killer has infected him?"
"I'm almost positive. He's been having issues. We thought his update would take care of it. I checked his anti-virus myself, but… he's somewhere. Can you…"
"Not only could I lose my job for this, Shige, I could go to jail."
"For abusing the system to stalk a robot? No one will think twice about him. He's not attached to anyone famous. And you won't get caught, right? But I do know the risks I'm asking you to take. I'm sorry."
Tegoshi looked back at the photo and pursed his lips. "We're not due to test the facial recognition system for another week and a half." With a grunt he rubbed the back of his neck and shoved the phone toward Shige. "Mail it to me. I'll figure something out. It'll take a few hours at the least, you know. Tokyo's no small town."
Tears sprang to Shige's eyes and he had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a whimper of relief. "Tegoshi. Really. 'I owe you,' doesn't even begin to cover it."
"Damn right," Tegoshi said. "And don't think I won't think of creative ways for you to make it up to me, either."
"I can't even care right now."
"Good," he replied, scraping his chair back as he stood. "You can start by paying for my dinner." Then he sighed. "I suddenly have a lot of bullshit to make up."
"Good thing you're good at that," Shige retorted, laughing weakly. He watched Tegoshi walk out, the man waving vaguely over his shoulder as he left, before his stomach grumbled. It might be a while, he thought, before pulling Tegoshi's bowl up. No sense wasting good food when he had a lot of his own work to do.
When Tegoshi called him, he was ass-deep in coding, trying to unravel the signature of the virus they'd been working on for the last few weeks. There wasn't even enough left to infect a live subject so they could actually have something to work with. Disengaging the virtual view, he told his phone to answer, and Tegoshi's voice echoed across the room.
"Found him, I think."
Shige grabbed for his phone, pulling up the pictures Tegoshi was sending and sliding them off his phone with a flick of his fingers and blowing them up on his coding screen. There were hundreds of photos, and Shige hid the ones that probably weren't right, pinching them into tiny pinpricks of color, until he had a time lapse view of the last 24 hours of Kei's existence, wrapped around his office.
"Pull up 3 and 15 of the last closed ones, Shige. They're about in the right area for the time."
Expanding those brought up two grainy photos, zoomed in on the mouth of an alley at two different times. In the first, someone was leaning face-first against the wall, one forearm keeping his forehead from coming in contact with it. In the second, the figure was crumpled in an undignified and almost unidentifiable heap if he didn't have the first picture as reference, two-thirds of his face toward the camera. Shige was torn between wanting it to be him because at least he knew where he was, and not wanting it to be because if he'd crashed… that meant the virus had probably completed and the Kei he knew was as good as dead.
"It's the only thing I've got," Shige said grimly. "Thanks, Tegoshi. I'll track the image address and go find out if it's him."
There was a moment of hush and Shige wondered if Tegoshi had hung up on him for some reason. But then he spoke. "Good luck, Shige," and then a click resounding in the silence.
Grabbing his coat, Shige told the office to sleep, and stepped out. Unable to make himself wait for public transportation, Shige called up a cab and counted the seconds it took to get to the address in an attempt to keep from thinking about what he was going to do if Kei had completely crashed. But as they neared the alley, he couldn't help but press close to the window and stare out, trying to make out Kei's face amid the piles of rubbish surrounding the place.
As the driver pulled to a stop, Shige fumbled several bills over the seatback. "Wait for me," he said quickly, hand on the door like pushing at it would make the driver move faster. Finally it swung open and he leapt out, striding over to the shadow of the fallen man. When he recognized Kei's face planted against a plastic bag, he felt bile rise, and he was at the mecha's side in moments, hands tugging frantically at his jacket, trying to get him up, out, anything. Too heavy, for all he seemed so light.
He felt tears slipping over his cheeks, a warm cocktail of frustration and fear. Letting go, he jogged back to the driver's door. "I'll give you 2,000 just to help me get him in the car." He peeled off a crisp 2,000 yen bill and pushed it toward him. "Come on," he added, impatient, impolite, not that he cared.
With a grumble the driver shoved at his own door and stepped out, a bulky man, Shige absently noted thankfully. Also quiet, another plus, as they hauled Kei into the car, shoving him unceremoniously in and letting him slump down over the seat. Rushing around to the other side, Shige slid into the slim space left to him, levering Kei's head up and into his lap while he told the cabbie to head back to his office.
On the way he made a quick call to Tegoshi to let him know of his sort-of success, and he was grateful for the way Tegoshi was trying to sound like he cared about this mecha Shige had happened to fall in love with. The concern was genuine, but for Shige alone, and Shige tried to sound hopeful for him. Tegoshi wouldn't understand everything going through his head. Another frantic call went to his boss who agreed to meet him at the office, sleepy confusion muddling his speech.
By the time Kusanagi got there, Shige had Kei laid out on the floor, all hooked up, his coding spelled out all around them.
"What's going on, Kato?" his boss yawned. "It's fucking early. Late. Whatever."
"I… I have a live sample of the virus. It looks like he shut himself down in the last stages to stop the virus from completing. I have him in system stasis at the moment."
Rubbing his eyes, Kusanagi stared around him at the corrupted data. "How did you get him?" he asked, still confused.
Shige refused to look up, fiddling with a cord. "I… he's…"
Kusanagi's eyebrows shot up. "You're a client?" he asked, incredulous. "What about that guy you're totally in love with? Oh, this is rich." When Shige didn't speak, he let out a harsh breath, like he'd been punched in the gut, Shige's eyes darting up to meet his, defiant. "This is him? Oh, Kato…"
"What do you care?" Shige said severely, disliking the pity, unsure of its source. "You get a live sample, and I get a chance to save him. Win-win."
Kusanagi ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "You had him in here a month ago, right? Did you make a copy?"
Shige nodded, calling out a few key words that pulled up the file, compressing the codes so that they read side-by-side on the same wall, corrupted and not.
"Kato, from a purely scientific standpoint, this is amazing."
One man's loss was another man's gain. Shige tried hard to think of the good that could come of his personal pain. And even though he wished his relationship hadn't come to light quite like this, he was grateful to have his team behind him, even if it was purely for the sake of science.
Three days later, the serial "killer" was caught through some random fluke.
"You've got to be kidding me," Tegoshi said, voice flat as he and Shige sat in front of the television, Shige struggling not to fall asleep. "It's seriously a sexually transmitted virus? That's… I don't even know what to say to that…"
"What?" Shige slurred, sitting up properly. "STD?"
"Yeah, the perp says, see? I was right, that he was trying to eliminate all male lover-mecha to keep anyone from having to go through the pain he did when he discovered his wife fooling around on him with one. He slept around with any woman he could, infecting them with this STD that's completely harmless in humans, but would transfer to the mecha through an 'unfaithful' woman. Insidiously genius."
"STD," Shige repeated stupidly.
"Shige… go to bed," Tegoshi told him, looking at him worriedly. "You're so tired you're repeating yourself. I can let myself out."
"No. What?" He rose quickly and dashed into his room, catching his shoulder painfully on the corner as he rounded it. He came back around not thirty seconds later dressed and jangling his keys. "Let yourself out," he yelled as he slammed the front door behind him.
After round-the-clock work on the virus, they'd nearly finished the anti-virus, but in every scenario they ran, Kei had re-infected, and they couldn't work out how. Now Shige knew. Despite what the systems said, there was a hardware compromise. And as embarrassing as it was going to be to explain this to his boss, at least they knew what to do next.
Predictably Kusanagi had let out a surprised guffaw of laughter after Shige explained the situation, and while they and Miyaji, their resident hardware guy, got to know Kei's "hardware" more intimately than Shige had ever wanted, he kept cracking jokes about how apparently even mecha needed to wear good old-fashioned rubbers. Shige, however, had other things on his mind, namely how Kei would be after reboot. Or rather if he would still be Kei.
Hours and hours and too many cups of coffee later, the three of them stared at Kei, fully reassembled and ready to be switched on. The last two simulations had run clean.
"Go on, Kato," Kusanagi urged gently, and Shige shot him a grateful look, choking back a wave of trepidation.
With a click, Kei's systems went fully online, fans humming into animation slowly and then into a fast whir they couldn't hear, but made Kei's pseudo-flesh vibrate with an approximation of life. Kei's scrubbed system took a few minutes to readjust to its re-installed programming, and, then, his eyes opened.
"Kei," Shige choked out, finally taking a deep breath, and the mecha turned its head to him.
"Shige," he said fondly, after only a moment's hesitation, and Kusanagi let out a strangled cheer that finally brought out Shige's tears.
"Running clean," Miyaji chimed in, watching the screens.
"What's going on?" Kei asked, turning his lips down in a confused frown. "Why am I on the floor?" Then he sat up with a start, fingers running over himself. "What's going on?" he asked again, in a slight panic. "Things are fuzzy. Why is my server telling me that it's 39 days later than it should be?"
"Calm down," Shige said, kneeling next to him and laying a hand over Kei's. "You had a virus. The virus, really. And I'm sorry, but I didn't copy any of your music before, so you've lost it all." It probably sounded inane to Kusanagi and Miyaji, but Shige wanted to make sure, really sure that this was his Kei, exactly as he had been.
Kei frowned to himself, obviously accessing all his files, and then he bit his lip when he discovered that Shige was right. But then he turned his hand over and curled his fingers around Shige's. "It's okay, Shige. I still have you," he said shyly. "Right?"
Shige let his smile rise, high and wide. "Always."
You stand alone, to every record I own
Music to my heart, that's what you are
A song that goes on and on