teach me to feel this thing you call love [for rixythewraith] (1/2)
Title: teach me to feel this thing you call love
Recipient: rixythewraith
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Jinhwan/Junhwe
Length: ~15.5k
Summary: And it’s almost ironic, really, because Junhwe was supposed to be the one teaching Jinhwan about feelings, but as they lie facing each other in bed and Jinhwan’s eyelids begin to flutter close, Junhwe thinks that Jinhwan has finally managed to make him understand what it truly means to love another being.
Notes: 15.5… k… words… i’m going to go die in a ditch. dearest recipient, thank you for your prompts!!! honestly, i spent a lot of time planning the fic and agonising over what, exactly, i was going to write, because your prompt was rather open and i wanted to write something you’d enjoy reading ;; nonetheless, though, i really do hope you like the fic, and i apologise at the onset for any inaccuracies in terminology (〃∀〃) special thanks to my dearest friends who answered all my stupid questions, screamed with me and helped beta the fic, and thank you to the mods for being so understanding ♡
He harboured an infatuation towards her, she knew. She didn’t know if she returned those feelings. Her programming suggested she could love, but she didn’t know how to recognise the feeling. Anything she read spoke of butterflies in one’s stomach, a rapid heartbeat, a feeling of electricity crackling on body contact. Biological things. She could admit she was fond of him in a way she wasn’t fond of anyone else. She recognized that she was willing to overlook his faults in a way she shouldn’t.
-Dragon, Worm
Junhwe’s work day always starts the same.
The alarm on his phone blares at seven-thirty a.m. sharp. Junhwe rolls onto his side, reaching out an arm to blindly shut if off, then he buries his head back into his pillow as he seriously contemplates not showing up to work, just like he does every other morning. But then Junhwe thinks about the forty-eight-hour shifts he’ll have to pull to clear the unavoidable backlog, about squinting at the lines of code on his monitor screen at four in the morning, cursing whenever he hears an eerie-sounding beep coming from one of the computer terminals or labs and promptly succumbs to his fate of turning up to work by nine.
Junhwe stumbles out of bed, takes a quick shower, grabs his things and is out the door in twenty minutes flat, making the short trek to the subway station near his apartment complex. He frowns when his stomach makes a relatively loud grumbling noise, taking a quick glance at his watch and deciding that he probably has enough time to make a quick stop at the FamilyMart and pick up something to eat.
Junhwe grabs a random packet of bbang from the shelf before joining the queue, taking the time to check through his messages and emails on his phone. It’s only when he hears a few dissatisfied grumbles and complaints coming from the front of the line that he lifts his head to see what’s going on: the cashier seems to either be slow or constantly messing up, because the smartly-dressed businesswoman in front of Junhwe rolls her eyes and leaves the queue, while the businessman currently being served only picks up his purchases and walks off after he glares pointedly at the cashier.
Junhwe nods back at the cashier when he greets him, watching closely as he checks out his bbang and asks for 2,000 won, please, movements stiff and voice flat. Junhwe hands him a 5,000 won bill, the cashier turns to the cash register, and Junhwe catches sight of the black marking on the side of his neck.
SYH-67
Junhwe sighs, watching the way the cashier twitches a little and stutters as he hands Junhwe his bbang and his change before leaving the store. Ripping open the packaging and stuffing the bbang into his mouth as he hurries down the steps and barely makes it onto the next subway, Junhwe finally begins his forty-minute-long commute to his workplace.
“You’re late,” is the first thing Junhwe hears after he taps his access card against the sensor and punches in the six-digit passcode for the glass door on his floor.
Junhwe glares at Hanbin, who doesn’t even bother looking up at him from where he’s shuffling some papers around behind the receptionist’s counter. “By like four minutes,” Junhwe retorts, walking into the coatroom to hang up his black coat before slipping into his pristine blue lab coat. “And besides,” Junhwe continues, stepping back out and walking into the main working area instead. “It’s technically Yunhyeong-hyung’s fault that I’m late.”
Yunhyeong sighs, putting down the battery he had been turning around in his hands to shoot Junhwe a look. “And how is that remotely possible when I’ve been here since seven a.m.?”
“SYH-67,” Junhwe says simply, settling into his chair and powering up his monitors. “Your bot was glitching at the FamilyMart in Pangyo Station and holding up the entire line; you’re welcome.”
Yunhyeong groans, burying his face in his hands. Junhwe feels his pain: Yunhyeong’s probably going to have to clock in extra hours to repair his defective robot, test it again, then send it back to the FamilyMart it’s currently deployed to or worse, find a similar yet new place for it to continue carrying out its set functions. But since Junhwe is an asshole who is perpetually pissed off at any time before lunch break, he says, “Don’t worry, hyung, I’m sure a few thirty-six-hour shifts won’t be so bad,” with a sunny smile on his face.
Yunhyeong smiles back. “Don’t forget there’s a high chance you were the software engineer for this robot. So I’m looking forward to the thirty-six-hour shifts with you, Junhwe-yah.”
The smile slips from Junhwe’s face, expression darkening as he flips Yunhyeong the finger. The hardware design engineer rolls his eyes, and Junhwe’s just about to snap something back at him when he’s interrupted by a cheery voice.
“Such joy in the lab at nine-ten in the morning,” Donghyuk says by way of greeting, completely undeterred by Yunhyeong’s sullen mood and the anger radiating off of Junhwe in waves. Donghyuk leans against Junhwe’s desk, crossing his lithe legs at the ankle and sliding a paper cup of coffee onto the table. Junhwe stares at the drink, then looks up at Donghyuk.
“Good morning, Junhwe,” Donghyuk greets pleasantly.
“Whatever you want, my answer is no,” Junhwe deadpans.
Donghyuk’s smile wavers, and if Junhwe were anyone else he’d probably be hard-pressed to deny the fatal combination of Donghyuk with his light brown bangs and lips pushed into a pout, but Junhwe is not anyone else, and he’s known Donghyuk long enough to know that beneath the bubbly, beaming exterior lies a manipulative and disarming little demon.
Junhwe reaching for the coffee seems to snap Donghyuk back to attention, because the brown-haired software engineer swiftly holds the paper cup out of Junhwe’s reach, grinning down at him. “Free coffee for two weeks if you listen to what I have to say. And it’s fully work-related, mind you, so technically you’re obligated to hear me out.”
Junhwe glares at Donghyuk long and hard, but it’s Donghyuk, who just so happens to be the one person in the lab completely unaffected by a grumpy, seething Junhwe. And also, free coffee. “Fine,” Junhwe spits, glancing at one of his monitor screens. “You have ten minutes. I still have to finish developing and testing the software for Yunhyeong-hyung’s new service robot.”
Donghyuk sets the paper cup back onto Junhwe’s desk, and when Junhwe turns to look up at his friend, Donghyuk looks genuinely excited. “I - I wrote a new programme, Junhwe,” Donghyuk breathes, and for a moment Junhwe is back in university, and a black-haired Donghyuk is looking at him with the same excited spark in his eyes as he shakes Junhwe’s arm and tells him that he’s going to graduate as valedictorian. “To create the first robot capable of teaching itself how to feel, just by observing.”
Junhwe’s eyes widen, because this is Big News: while robots have been a commonality for a while now, all of these robots have been purely functional so far - industrial robots, service robots, educational robots, even autonomous robots. Pre-existing software and programmes allow robots to be independent, intelligent; they allow robots to act like humans, but robots still can’t feel like humans do.
Until now, apparently.
“You - ” Junhwe sputters, looking at the proud grin on Donghyuk’s face. “You’re serious, right? You actually managed to write the programme? Don’t fuck with me, Kim Donghyuk, or I swear - ”
“Managed to convince him yet?”
Junhwe’s expression goes flat almost immediately, glaring at Bobby who only grins broadly at him, perches on the edge of his desk next to Donghyuk and takes a long sip of Junhwe’s coffee. Nine in the fucking morning, Junhwe thinks viciously. Bobby more than pulls his weight in the lab as their creative and aesthetics director, but still, he’s ridiculously energetic. Junhwe thinks of Bobby the same way he thinks of the sun - too bright, too warm, here too quickly every morning, and something he’d like damn well as far away from him as possible.
Junhwe ignores Bobby, refocuses his attention back on Donghyuk and arches a brow. “Bobby-hyung and I have been spending the past few months developing this programme and designing the robot that would contain it,” Donghyuk continues explaining. “And now I need your help to beta-test it for me.”
Junhwe’s immediate response is to flat-out reject Donghyuk. “No,” he says firmly, remembering how most of his previous experiences beta-testing either Donghyuk’s or his own software programmes had led to many sleepless nights, migraines and accidents. “Also, you ass, why can’t you beta-test it yourself?”
“You know I have to research about and then develop the software for the new series of collaborative robots, right? My hands are full. Also, your apartment is bigger - ”
“And there’s free coffee,” Bobby chimes in, taking another long sip from what was meant to be Junhwe’s americano.
Junhwe pinches his nose bridge for a long moment. It’s way too early to be sustaining any type of conversation that requires Junhwe to reply with words instead of his preferred vague, grunting sounds, and Junhwe is also acutely aware that if he doesn’t agree, Donghyuk will literally spend the rest of the day badgering him till he says yes, anyway.
“Free coffee for a month, treat me to drinks sometime in the near future, keep Bobby out of my way for all hours of the day and you have yourself a deal,” Junhwe says to Donghyuk.
Bobby opens his mouth to complain, but Donghyuk clamps a hand over his lips. “Free coffee for two weeks.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Jesus, Donghyuk. It’s not even as if you’re going to be the one buying the coffee. We all know that’s going to be Chanwoo.”
“Fine,” Donghyuk hisses. He pushes himself off the desk, stepping on Junhwe’s foot for good measure. Junhwe yelps. “So much for six years of friendship.”
“You're welcome, ungrateful asshole!” Junhwe barks after his friend, but all Junhwe gets in return is Bobby sliding off his desk, loping off with a wide grin on his face and the rest of Junhwe’s coffee in his hand.
Nine-thirty a.m.: the time of the morning when Bobby has found a sense of purpose for the day (and is correspondingly excited, or more so than usual), when the sun is getting brighter by the minute, and when Junhwe wishes with every fibre of his being that he never got out of bed this morning.
☆
Two days later, Junhwe has just finished installing his software into Yunhyeong’s new line of service robots when he feels someone peering over his shoulder.
“Does it work?” Donghyuk asks, watching as Junhwe’s fingers fly over the keyboard as he keys in one last line of code.
“Of course it’ll work, it’s my software,” Junhwe replies flatly, saving his programme before shutting down the monitor. Donghyuk rolls his eyes, waiting for Junhwe to get up before walking down the corridor together. Donghyuk taps his access card against the sensor for WORKING LAB 3, pushing open the glass door after the familiar-sounding beep is heard and letting Junhwe step in before him.
Bobby turns at their arrival, a grin stretching across his face. By default, Junhwe scowls. “You ready to turn him on?”
Him, Junhwe thinks idly, then shrugs, lifting one hand to push his bangs out of his eyes just as Bobby moves aside.
The first thing Junhwe notices about this humanoid robot is how tiny it is, the top of its head barely clearing Junhwe’s shoulder. Bobby has also decided to give this robot a head of bronze-coloured, synthetic hair, bangs falling across its forehead and into its still-shut eyes. The robot is clad in a simple navy blue sweater and a pair of black jeans, and if Junhwe didn’t know any better, he would probably say the robot looked soft, almost.
“Did you intend for this robot to be a sixteen-year-old kid?” Junhwe asks, looking from Bobby to Donghyuk.
Donghyuk winces a little. “I actually programmed him to be three years older than us?”
“Twenty-six - ” Junhwe chokes, then turns on Bobby instead. “Why did you make him so short?”
Bobby regards the robot fondly. “Project Tiny,” Bobby says, chuckling. “I intended the name as a joke for “this is a little side project I have”, which is what Donghyuk told me when I first asked him about the new software he was designing - ”
“And then the joke went a little too far, because the next time I checked up on Bobby-hyung, he was designing a damn short robot,” Donghyuk finishes, shooting Bobby a look, who just shrugs.
Junhwe slides a finger under the robot’s thin wrist, lifting its limp arm for a moment before setting it back down again. The robot’s synthetic skin is soft but cold to the touch.
“I put the power button at the back of his right hip,” Bobby says, and Junhwe circles his arm loosely around the robot, slips a finger under his navy blue sweater, then pushes the cold metallic button once.
There's the soft hum of the machinery warming up, followed by the robot reciting South Korea Robotics Laboratory in an automated, emotionless voice, and then briefly running through a list of its specs. Junhwe turns to shoot Donghyuk a mildly-impressed look when he hears the size of the robot’s hard drive, mainly for maintaining and updating the artificial intelligence programme. Donghyuk’s answering grin is proud.
The robot’s eyes open, looking straight ahead. A brief pause, and then the gentle whir of the central processing unit.
“Input user credentials, please.”
“Koo Junhwe,” Junhwe replies.
“Processing voice recognition,” the robot says, and after a moment it’s like the robot seems to focus its gaze, looking right at Junhwe instead of giving the wall behind him a blank, mechanical stare. “Processing visual recognition,” the robot says again, and Junhwe stands still as the robot stares at him intently for a few seconds, its visual sensors adjusting to its new owner so that its programme would be able to recognise Junhwe from now on. Junhwe uses the time to take in the robot’s eyes: single-lidded, almond-shaped, pupils black and irises dark brown.
“Koo Junhwe, confirmed,” the robot says, and then it blinks twice, its features relaxing, and its lips curve up into the hints of a small, polite smile. “Hello, Junhwe-ssi.”
“Just Junhwe is fine,” Junhwe says.
The robot nods once. “Understood.”
“So,” Junhwe says after a second of silence. “What should I call you?”
“That is for you to decide,” the robot replies.
Junhwe glances at the left side of the robot’s neck. KDH-27. Junhwe frowns. Somehow, he doesn’t feel like calling this robot by a series of letters and numbers.
“How about Jinhwan?” Donghyuk voices from behind them, looking up from where he’s been keying in some observations into one of the monitors in the room. “I actually intended to call him that, because it follows your initials, Junhwe.”
Jinhwan, Junhwe thinks, turning his gaze back to the robot in front of him. The robot waits patiently, looking up at Junhwe.
“Okay,” Junhwe says finally. “Jinhwan.”
“Jinhwan,” the robot repeats quietly, as though it were testing out how the name would sound like in its own voice. Then the robot smiles, a little wider this time, just enough to cause its eyes to crinkle slightly at the edges. Junhwe can see the identical proud grins on Bobby’s and Donghyuk’s faces from the corner of his eye. “Jinhwan, confirmed,” the robot says, louder this time.
“And I think we’re done here,” Donghyuk says, and Junhwe hears the sound of the monitor shutting down and a USB being ejected. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Junhwe-yah. Just bring him back after a few weeks so I can run some tests on the software.”
Junhwe grunts noncommittally, walking to the glass door and pressing the exit button before holding it open. He turns to see whether Jinhwan is following him, and realises that the robot is only two steps behind.
“There’re usually more people in the lab,” Junhwe says, just for the sake of saying something as he watches Jinhwan’s eyes rove over the dark, empty area. “It’s just because it’s past office hours now, and I guess nobody had to pull an extended shift - hang on, let me grab my things.”
Junhwe grabs his messenger bag from his desk, then moves to the coatroom to trade his blue lab coat for his own black one. When he steps back out, Jinhwan is waiting for him patiently, at the exact same spot.
The journey back to Junhwe’s apartment is quiet and uneventful, the silence not uncomfortable but just a little bit awkward. The only time they exchange words is when they arrive at Yangjae Station to transfer lines, and Jinhwan lightly taps Junhwe on the arm to inform him nicely that Junhwe, if you would you like to catch the next subway, then we might have to walk to the platform a little faster. Apart from that, though, Junhwe busies himself with his phone for a majority of the journey back home, occasionally glancing over at Jinhwan to see that the robot seems perfectly content with just watching the city go by.
“Well, this is it,” Junhwe says a little while later when they arrive at his apartment. Junhwe lets Jinhwan step in before him, locking the front door and watching the robot’s gaze focus a little as its visual recognition sensors absorb the layout of the apartment. Junhwe’s job at the lab pays well, so his apartment is considerably comfortable.
“Do you live alone, Junhwe?” Jinhwan asks once he’s done taking in the place.
“Yeah,” Junhwe replies. “Why do you ask?”
“I notice there are four rooms down the hall,” Jinhwan answers, then pauses. “I apologise if I should not have asked that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Junhwe assures the robot. “One room is my bedroom, another is my study, the smallest door leads to the bathroom and the last room is unoccupied, like a guest room.”
“I see,” Jinhwan replies, looking around again. Junhwe regards him for a moment, then clears his throat.
“I’m going to… take a shower, then probably head to bed,” Junhwe says, finding it a little weird that he has to explain his actions to someone else, now, after having lived alone for so long.
Jinhwan nods. “That sounds like a wise choice. It is getting late.”
It’s barely eleven p.m., Junhwe wants to say, but then decides it’s probably not worth it. “Feel free to look around the apartment, I guess? Familiarise yourself with the space, or something.”
Jinhwan nods again. “Understood.”
When Junhwe emerges from his shower a short while later, he finds Jinhwan in the kitchen, staring into one of his cabinets. The robot turns to face him. “Based on nutrition facts, I do not think eating this much ramyun is particularly healthy, Junhwe.”
Junhwe feels his face begin to heat up, moving forward to shut the cabinet. “I don’t eat it all the time,” he grumbles. “In fact, I’m at the lab so much that I rarely eat at home.”
Jinhwan nods in understanding. “I suppose that would explain the state of your refrigerator. Kimchi and soju cannot possibly make for a balanced diet.”
Junhwe sputters for a moment, then sighs in resignation. “You know what? I’m going to bed,” he says finally, pushing a hand through his still-damp hair. “Can you handle your own recharging needs?”
“Yes, I can,” Jinhwan replies, and Junhwe nods.
“All right then. Let me just set up the charging station for you. Is the living room okay?” Junhwe asks, moving to fetch Jinhwan’s charging wire that he had taken home from the lab.
“That is fine, thank you.”
Junhwe pushes the plug into the socket, leaves the orange cord on the floor, then gets to his feet. He opens his mouth for a second, but ends up closing it again. What was he intending to say, really?
“Good night, Junhwe.”
Junhwe startles a little, but Jinhwan just looks at him politely. “Yeah,” Junhwe clears his throat. “Night.”
And Junhwe doesn’t know if he’s just imagining it, but as Jinhwan turns away from him, Junhwe swears he sees the robot’s lips quirk up in the hints of an amused smile, pulled just high enough to reveal a bit of his teeth.
☆
When Junhwe’s alarm blares at seven-thirty the next morning, the first thing that hits him is the scent of food cooking in his kitchen.
Junhwe jerks awake, wondering who the fuck decided to break into his apartment, because food is almost never being cooked in his home, least of all on a weekday morning. But then he trips out of his bedroom - eyes half-open and black hair a rightful mess atop his head - and is greeted by the sight of Jinhwan in the kitchen, currently cooking something on the stove.
Jinhwan turns his head at the sound of Junhwe’s entrance and a pleasant smile curls at the edges of his lips, his eyes curving up into slight crescents. Junhwe blinks at the sight. “Good morning, Junhwe,” the robot greets politely.
“Mornin’,” Junhwe mumbles back, voice a little hoarse from sleep and gaze still slightly unfocused. “What… are you doing?”
The question seems to catch the robot off-guard. “I decided to prepare some breakfast for you,” Jinhwan responds, then pauses a little uncertainly. “I apologise if I should have asked before using your kitchen - ”
“No, really, it’s fine,” Junhwe cuts in, and honestly, it’s more than just fine: Junhwe thinks the last time someone made breakfast for him was when his mother came over to check up on him when he had first moved into the apartment, and that was about a year ago. So as he watches Jinhwan turn off the stove and slide the tamagoyaki from the pan to a clean plate, his heart feels strangely warm. “Thank you,” Junhwe remembers to add, touched.
Another small smile from Jinhwan. “You are welcome.”
Junhwe heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth before digging into the food, and he moans appreciatively after the first few bites. Jinhwan laughs a little at his reaction, and it’s Junhwe’s first time hearing the sound: soft, tinkling and slightly amused.
(Junhwe decides it’s a very nice laugh.)
“I am glad you like the food, Junhwe,” Jinhwan comments, and Junhwe wonders idly if the robot intended for that statement to sound teasing.
“Trust me, this is so much better than the crappy bread varieties I’ve been picking up from FamilyMart for the past year,” Junhwe responds, swallowing a mouthful of the tamagoyaki. “I’m surprised you managed to make anything at all considering I have, like, nothing in my fridge.”
Jinhwan laughs again, a short sound but a little louder this time as he starts to clean the kitchen counter. Junhwe finishes his food quickly, then moves to get ready for work. He’s just grabbed his coat and is about to leave the apartment when he turns around to face Jinhwan.
“I hope you won’t be too bored,” Junhwe says, slightly hesitant. “And don’t open the door for anyone,” he adds as an afterthought.
“Understood,” Jinhwan replies, and then a small smile curls at the edges of his lips. “Have a good day at work, Junhwe.”
The robot’s voice sounds just a little too mechanical to pass off as human, but it’s still soft, kind of warm.
For the first time in a long while, Junhwe leaves his apartment with a pleasant feeling blooming in his chest.
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #01
TIME 22:54
Verified that Jinhwan can cook, clean and perform basic human tasks - no major bugs detected.
☆
On Saturday, Junhwe only rolls out of bed when it’s well-past noon.
Jinhwan is sitting on the windowsill in the living room when Junhwe finally stumbles down the hall, and the robot turns immediately at the sound of Junhwe’s footsteps.
“Good afternoon, Junhwe,” Jinhwan greets, and his lips twitch slightly in the hints of an amused smile. Junhwe is seriously beginning to wonder if he’s really that humorous of a person, or if Donghyuk just designed this robot specifically to laugh at him. “It is a relief to see that you are finally awake.”
Junhwe feels his cheeks begin to heat up traitorously, so he frowns to hide his slight embarrassment. “I sleep in during the weekends because sleep is a distant concept for me every other day of the week,” he grumbles.
Junhwe doesn’t know if it’s just because his eyes are crusty from sleep, but it’s like Jinhwan’s smile softens into something that Junhwe can only describe as slightly fond. “You must be hungry,” Jinhwan says instead, getting up and starting for the kitchen. “I will make you something to eat.”
Junhwe is about to fall face-first onto the couch and settle in for a quick nap while Jinhwan cooks, but the image of the robot looking out the glass windows just now just makes Junhwe think. “Hey,” Junhwe says, and Jinhwan stops walking, turning around to face him. “How about we walk around the area instead, today?”
Jinhwan blinks. “If that is what you would like to do.”
Truth be told, Junhwe has never been much of an outdoor person: if he had it his way, he would spend all his weekends lying in bed, only getting up when he can no longer deny his hunger or stand the smell of his own breath. But he’s been beta-testing Jinhwan for a few days, now, and a part of him feels bad for leaving the robot cooped up in the apartment all the time, because Junhwe simply doesn’t have the time for anything else besides work.
So Junhwe just shrugs, carding a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he answers. “It'll be a good way to test your programme, too. See how fast you familiarise yourself with the area and all.”
Jinhwan nods. “Understood.”
And that’s how Junhwe finds himself leaving his apartment complex a little while later, dressed in a white sweater and a worn pair of black jeans as he brings Jinhwan around the neighbourhood. They’re silent for the first few minutes, and that’s when Junhwe finally realises that apart from the little exchanges they have before Junhwe leaves for work in the morning and after he returns at night, he and Jinhwan have never actually held a sustained conversation.
“There is something bothering you.”
Junhwe startles, glancing down at the robot who’s looking up at him with a knowing look in his eye. “I was programmed to detect changes in your mood by sensing things like your facial expressions, your heart rate, your breathing rate,” Jinhwan explains, and then his lips curve up into that same smile from just now, the one that Junhwe swears seems almost fond. It makes Junhwe’s chest tighten, somewhat. “Your brows keep furrowing, Junhwe - you have been thinking about something very hard.”
Fucking nerd Donghyuk programming such a perceptive robot, Junhwe curses in his mind. But it’s only half-scathing, though, and Junhwe swallows a little uncomfortably, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “It’s nothing, really,” Junhwe begins, wetting his dry lips with his tongue. “I guess I just realised that we haven’t had the chance to actually… talk? And considering how I’m supposed to be beta-testing your programme, and you’re kind of staying in my apartment - I mean - I guess we should probably…”
Junhwe trails off awkwardly, because god - his thoughts sounds so much more stupid out loud.
But then Jinhwan lets out a soft laugh, and when Junhwe looks down at the robot, his eyes are crinkled slightly at the edges, and for the first time, his lips are pulled high enough to reveal his synthetic teeth, small and white and even.
Junhwe swallows down the sudden lump in his throat. He’s cute, a voice in his head supplies softly.
“I apologise for laughing, Junhwe, but yes,” Jinhwan says, and he’s still got a small smile on his face. “I would like to talk to you more, too.”
Junhwe blinks, then coughs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leads them into the neighbourhood park. There’s the sound of children yelling, dogs barking and ladies laughing; the leaves on the trees rustle occasionally in the wind and the sun hangs high in the azure sky. Junhwe watches as Jinhwan tilts his face up towards the sky, his eyes slipping shut and his lips quirking up a little at the edges.
“This is really nice, Junhwe,” Jinhwan says after a moment, looking over at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
It’s just a park, Junhwe thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s just about to open his mouth when the robot speaks again.
“Would it be okay if I asked you to tell me more about yourself?”
Junhwe nods as they resume walking, mulling over what he should say so he doesn’t sound completely boring. “I was born and raised in Seoul,” he begins. “I have an older sister. I did relatively well in school, but I didn’t really have that many friends - I guess I never truly mastered the art of interacting with other people.” The corners of Jinhwan’s lips twitch at this, and even Junhwe cracks one of his typical half-smirks. “I majored in software engineering in university, got an internship at the lab in my last year, and basically sold my soul to the place since,” he continues, and he’s only half-joking. “Oh, and I’m twenty-three this year. Donghyuk programmed you to be three years older than us, though, so I think I should… be calling you hyung? Like… Jinhwan-hyung.”
Junhwe pauses. Jinhwan-hyung. It’s the first time he’s saying it, but he finds he really likes how the two words sound together, rolling off his tongue.
“And you can speak to me more informally, too. Like Junhwe-yah, or something. I dunno, it’s up to you,” Junhwe finishes lamely.
“Understood,” Jinhwan replies. “Junhwe-yah.”
(And Jinhwan is doing exactly what Junhwe asked of him, but Junhwe doesn’t know why the robot’s standard response disappoints him, just a little.)
They continue to walk along the path, their arms brushing occasionally as they exchange light conversation. When they come across a small FamilyMart a short while later, Junhwe stops walking.
“I’m gonna grab some food, hyung,” Junhwe says. “You can wait out here.”
Junhwe walks into the FamilyMart, grabbing an onigiri, a roll of kimbap and a cold canned coffee before heading to the cashier. He spends some time heating up his food in the microwave at the back of the store, but when he pushes open the door again and steps back outside, the sight that greets him almost causes him to drop his onigiri in horror.
Jinhwan is fucking climbing a tree.
“Hyung!” Junhwe shouts, running over to the tree where a small crowd has already begun to form. “Jinhwan-hyung! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Jinhwan looks down at him, and it’s only then when Junhwe finally notices the brown tabby cat stuck on one of the branches. The cat lets out a meow, and Junhwe is almost sent into cardiac arrest when Jinhwan stretches out an arm, and the cat leaps into his embrace. Thankfully they’re not too high up, though, and after a bit of slow, careful manoeuvring, Jinhwan lands lightly on the grass with the cat still in his arms.
“The cat was stuck in the tree, so I went to get it down,” Jinhwan explains when Junhwe rushes up to him. “Because statistically speaking, most humans appear to have a favourable attitude towards felines.”
Junhwe is about to open his mouth to point out to the robot that No, This Is Not How It Works, but then a few children run up to them, staring at the tabby in Jinhwan’s arms with interest. A small smile curls at the edges of Jinhwan’s lips as he crouches slightly, the cat jumping out of his arms and onto the grass only for the children to surround it immediately. Junhwe just stares at the scene.
“You sounded angry, just now,” Jinhwan says, and Junhwe shifts his gaze back to the robot to see that the small smile has slipped off his face. “I apologise if I made you upset, Junhwe-yah.”
“I wasn’t mad,” Junhwe sighs, feeling his heartbeat fall back into a more comfortable rhythm as the adrenaline begins to leave his system. “Just worried,” he finishes, taking in the rips in Jinhwan’s sweater from his stunt on the tree.
Jinhwan notices, and the robot blinks at him in slight confusion as they begin to walk back to the apartment complex. “I cannot get hurt, Junhwe-yah. There is no need for you to worry.”
“I know,” Junhwe says, but then he thinks about the mild panic that had surged through him when he had first seen Jinhwan climbing the tree, the multiple ways in which an accident could happen flashing through his mind like a roll of film. He swallows thickly, thinking about how he could possibly explain this to the robot. “Sometimes, we just worry about the people we care about. There doesn’t have to be a reason behind it - we just do.”
Junhwe watches as Jinhwan regards him closely, the robot’s brows knitting together in slight confusion as his programme tries to process the things that Junhwe is saying. Eventually Jinhwan’s expression clears, and he nods a couple of times, slowly.
“Understood,” Jinhwan says, and then in a softer voice, adds, “Thank you for your concern, Junhwe-yah.”
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #04
TIME 17:55
Jinhwan rescued a cat from a tree today. If he comes with animal-friendly programming, then I can definitely verify that it’s running perfectly. His risk-processing programming, though - that I’m not so sure.
☆
The next week passes relatively uneventfully.
Junhwe is still out of the apartment for around eleven to twelve hours a day, but the air between Junhwe and Jinhwan has become noticeably more comfortable: they slip into easy conversation over short breakfasts and longer dinners (after Junhwe finally decided to make a grocery run one day after work), Junhwe tells Jinhwan more about his life as a student and at work whenever the robot asks, and Jinhwan still always greets Junhwe good morning with a smile on his face.
And Junhwe has never had a problem with living alone, but now he returns home to a small-sized humanoid robot smiling at him and welcoming him back, steps out of the shower to be greeted by the smell of home-cooked food in the kitchen and thinks that yeah, he could definitely get used to this.
By some mad stroke of luck, Junhwe is actually allowed to leave the lab before the sun sets one evening. He punches in the passcode to his apartment, then pushes open the door.
“I’m home,” Junhwe calls, slipping off his shoes and shrugging off his coat.
“Welcome back, Junhwe-yah,” Jinhwan replies naturally, then his head tilts a little to the side. “You are home early today.”
Cute, Junhwe thinks, and he can’t help the grin that stretches across his face even as he shrugs. “I know. I thought it was a joke when it first happened. Anyway, hyung, you don’t have to make anything today - I got takeout,” Junhwe says, holding up the white plastic bag. “I’ll go take a shower, then we can… watch television?”
Jinhwan takes the bag from Junhwe, his lips curving up into a sunny smile. It’s the smile that reveals his teeth, and causes his eyes to crinkle a little at the sides - Junhwe really likes this smile.
“That sounds nice, Junhwe-yah,” Jinhwan says in response, and Junhwe is once again reminded about how even the simplest things can make the robot seem so happy.
Junhwe emerges from his shower a short while later and joins Jinhwan on the couch, where the robot has already heated up his jajangmyeon for him. “Thanks, hyung,” Junhwe says, plopping onto the other end of the couch and turning on the television. “Is there anything you wanna watch?”
The robot shakes his head. “You can decide, Junhwe-yah.”
“You may not like my taste in movies, though,” Junhwe murmurs under his breath, as he eventually settles on a romance film he’s seen a couple of times before. They watch the movie in companionable silence, but after Junhwe finishes his jajangmyeon and places the empty container onto the coffee table, he becomes more aware of the distance between them on the couch, and the way Jinhwan is watching the movie with his back straight and his hands folded neatly in his lap.
So Junhwe clears his throat, and Jinhwan turns his head to face him. “Hyung,” Junhwe says, and he winces at how awkward he sounds already. Interacting with other people has really never been his strong suit. “You can relax, you know? Like, lean back against the couch, put your feet up or whatever. And - I mean, if you want - you can… come closer…?”
Junhwe feels his neck flush traitorously, and he scowls, annoyed at himself for getting flustered around a robot.
But Jinhwan just nods his head in understanding, shifting closer to Junhwe before tucking his legs up against his chest and resting his chin on his arms, then returning his attention to the movie. Junhwe swallows, moving to meet Jinhwan halfway, and when he crosses his legs on the couch their thighs are touching a little, and so are their sides.
The contact is nice, comfortable - Junhwe relaxes into it, and he’s never been a touchy person.
“Junhwe-yah?”
Junhwe startles a little, but turns his gaze away from the television to look down at the robot instead. “Yeah?”
“I apologise if this sounds like a silly question, but why did the male lead allow the masked man to escape with all of his important documents, just now? He could have stopped him and avoided the huge monetary loss that he is currently facing, but he made the illogical choice not to.”
Junhwe blinks. “Hyung… he chose to let the masked man take his things because he wanted to protect the woman that he loves. She could’ve gotten hurt.”
A pause, and then, “I do not understand, Junhwe.”
And Junhwe is suddenly reminded of the fact that as intelligent and human-like as Jinhwan may seem, he is essentially only still a product of Donghyuk’s remarkable programming and Bobby’s creative designing, built and manufactured in the very lab Junhwe spends so much of his waking hours in. He was programmed to be the first robot capable of feeling, but there’s still so much he doesn’t yet know, hasn’t been exposed to, and Junhwe is hit with the sudden realisation that most of what Jinhwan will eventually come to understand about emotion is going to come from him.
Him. Koo Junhwe. As in, emotionally-stunted twenty-three year-old software engineer Koo Junhwe.
“He loves her,” Junhwe begins after a moment, looking back at the screen. “This woman that he’s holding now - she’s very important to him. Meaning he… likes her, cares for her, wants to protect her, wants her to be happy, but it’s also so much more than that,” Junhwe continues, pausing awkwardly between his words because talking about feelings - even if they aren’t his own - has never come easy to him. “So yeah: while he might not have made the most logical choice by letting the masked man escape with his things, we always make sure that the people we love don’t ever come to harm.”
There’s silence between them as Jinhwan’s programme processes Junhwe’s words, and Junhwe finds himself glancing down at the robot and taking in the way his eyes are still focused so intently on the screen, and how he manages to look even smaller, now, sitting close to Junhwe and dwarfed in one of his oversized white hoodies.
The light from the television screen casts moving shadows across Jinhwan’s face, the wind from the ceiling fan blows, and the strands of synthetic bronze hair on the robot’s head ruffle ever-so-slightly.
Junhwe swallows thickly as his heart begins to thud.
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #22
TIME 23:59
Jinhwan asked about the seemingly illogical things people do in the name of love, this evening. Honestly, I think the only reason why I’m beta-testing this programme is because Donghyuk wants to make my life more miserable than it already is.
☆
“Bring Jinhwan in tomorrow,” Donghyuk says to Junhwe as they’re getting ready to leave the lab the following Thursday. “I want to run some tests on his software.”
And that’s how Junhwe finds himself taking the subway to work the next morning with Jinhwan by his side, the robot’s fingers curled tight around the handles of a brown paper bag that Junhwe knows contains his breakfast. Junhwe had woken up cursing and late, but Jinhwan had just smiled that half-amused, half-fond smile at him, packing the kimbap he had prepared for Junhwe into a small, clean Tupperware.
The subway station is crowded due to the morning rush hour, smartly-dressed businessmen talking loudly on their cellphones as they wait for the subway to arrive and businesswomen hurrying towards the platforms in their three-inch heels. A few subway station staff stand around the platform area to manage the crowd, and Junhwe’s lips twitch a little in the hints of a proud half-smirk when the staff standing nearest to him and Jinhwan turns his head, and Junhwe sees KJH-32 on the side of his neck.
Junhwe looks down, and he watches as Jinhwan brings his free hand up to cover the identical mark he has on the left side of his neck. “Did he come from the lab you work at, too?”
“Yeah,” Junhwe answers as the subway arrives. “I designed his software.”
(His, Junhwe thinks idly. A few weeks ago, he probably would’ve said its.)
The subway doors open, and people stream out. There’s a significant amount of jostling and stumbling as the passengers on the platform fight to squeeze their way onto the subway, and its instinct alone that causes Junhwe to wrap his right arm around Jinhwan’s shoulders, holding the robot close against his side after someone bumps into him, and he staggers.
“Keep close,” Junhwe murmurs as they step into the carriage, jam-packed with people. “It’s crowded.”
“Understood,” comes the standard response, but then the subway jerks as it begins to move, and Jinhwan turns his face into Junhwe’s chest a little when the latter pulls him in. “Thank you, Junhwe-yah,” Jinhwan adds softly.
And it’s honestly not like how authors describe it in romance novels: Jinhwan isn’t exactly warm, or soft against his side. But the robot is small, a real weight leaning against Junhwe, and Junhwe tightens the grip he has around Jinhwan’s shoulders imperceptibly.
Jinhwan sticks close to Junhwe when they arrive at the lab, the visual recognition sensors in his eyes working to absorb the slightly unfamiliar surroundings. They catch the lift down to the floor Junhwe works on, and then Junhwe is tapping his access card against the sensor, punching in the six-digit passcode, and pushing open the glass door.
“You’re - oh.”
Hanbin’s voice trails off when he looks up and notices that Junhwe isn’t alone. There’s an awkward moment of silence when Hanbin just stares dumbly at Jinhwan, but then Jinhwan ducks his head a little in a slight bow, and speaks.
“Good morning,” Jinhwan greets, voice neutral but pleasant.
“Good… morning,” Hanbin replies, then he shoots Junhwe a pointed look, lifting a brow in question.
Junhwe rolls his eyes, resting a gentle hand on Jinhwan’s shoulder. Hanbin stares at it. “Jinhwan-hyung, this is Hanbin-hyung. He’s the receptionist for our floor. Jinhwan-hyung is running the new programme I’m beta-testing,” Junhwe introduces, directing the last part at Hanbin before walking into the coatroom to change into his blue lab coat.
Jinhwan’s standard, polite smile curls at the edges of his lips. “It is nice to meet you, Hanbin-ssi.”
“Just Hanbin is fine,” Hanbin replies. “And it’s nice to meet you too.”
Jinhwan’s smile widens into something a little warmer just as Junhwe steps back out to join them, tilting his head in the general direction of the lab as a sign for Jinhwan to follow him.
“Have a good day, Hanbin,” Jinhwan says, smiling at him one more time before turning to follow after Junhwe.
Junhwe furrows his brows when he sees the pleasantly surprised expression on Hanbin’s face as he settles back into his seat. “What did you say to him?” Junhwe asks Jinhwan when the robot falls into step beside him.
Jinhwan blinks. “Nothing, really,” he responds, setting Junhwe’s breakfast down on his desk when the younger falls onto his chair. “I just told him to have a good day.”
“Huh,” Junhwe comments, but chooses to let the matter drop.
Junhwe moves a stack of papers on his desk into one of the drawers below, and Jinhwan slides onto the empty space accordingly as he pulls the Tupperware out of the paper bag. The corners of Junhwe’s lips quirk upwards into the hints of a small smile when he sees how Jinhwan’s feet can’t touch the floor - it’s adorable.
Unfortunately, Junhwe has barely managed to take his first bite of kimbap when a hand reaches in from literally nowhere and snags a piece. Jinhwan’s eyes widen.
“What the fuck,” Junhwe hisses, spinning around in his chair only to be greeted by the sight of a grinning Yunhyeong and a laughing Chanwoo.
“It’s good,” Yunhyeong says after he swallows, and the satisfied look on his face only makes Junhwe’s scowl deepen.
“That means Junhwe-hyung didn’t make it.”
“700K won, shut up.”
Chanwoo glares. “I am so severely undercompensated.”
Junhwe snorts. “May your meagre internship allowance always piss on your plans for corporate domination.”
Chanwoo is just about to retort, but then Yunhyeong notices the confused and mildly-worried expression on Jinhwan’s face and decides to cut in, gaze flickering quickly over the black marking on his neck. “Hello,” Yunhyeong greets, his standard, amicable smile stretched across his face. “Are you Jinhwan-ssi?”
Jinhwan appears a little startled at the fact that Yunhyeong is addressing him directly, but he nods. “Yes. It is nice to meet you - ”
“Yunhyeong,” Yunhyeong introduces himself, lifting a hand. “Hardware design engineer. I’m pretty sure I need to give you a hardware check-up later. And this,” Yunhyeong continues, throwing his other arm around Chanwoo. “Is Chanwoo. He’s the intern on our floor.”
Chanwoo grumbles under his breath, but Yunhyeong just smiles at Jinhwan. “Did you make the kimbap?” He asks. “It’s really good.”
“I did,” Jinhwan answers, and Junhwe sees the robot’s lips curve into a small, pleased smile, almost blooming under the praise. “Thank you. If you want, I could make some more for the next time I return to the lab - ”
“No,” Junhwe interrupts flatly, packing up the now-empty Tupperware before glaring at Yunhyeong and Chanwoo over his shoulder. “Get your own robots.”
“I was hoping you would show Jinhwan-hyung some positive aspects of the human spirit, June-yah, but clearly I was mistaken.”
Junhwe rolls his eyes as Donghyuk walks up to them, the brown-haired software engineer giving Jinhwan a quick once-over before grinning proudly. “Hi, Jinhwan-hyung. I’m Donghyuk. Could you follow me, please? I need to run some tests on your software and check on your programme.”
Jinhwan’s gaze flickers back down to Junhwe, and Junhwe feels his expression soften when he sees the hesitation in the robot’s eyes. “It’s all right, hyung,” Junhwe reassures the robot gently, and he pauses uncertainly for a second, but eventually swallows down the lump in his throat and lifts a hand to rest lightly against Jinhwan’s right cheek. Jinhwan’s synthetic skin is cold, but after the robot exhales breathlessly and Junhwe lets his hand drop, his palm still comes away feeling like fire. “You can go with him.”
“Interesting,” Donghyuk murmurs as Jinhwan gets off the desk and walks towards him, raising a brow at Junhwe pointedly.
“Shut up,” Junhwe mumbles, powering up his monitors and glaring at Yunhyeong as he settles into his seat with a mysterious, badly-suppressed smile on his face.
After Jinhwan leaves with Donghyuk, silence settles upon the main working area of the lab as everyone gets into the rhythm of work. Junhwe isn’t sure how many hours pass, but at one point Yunhyeong gets up from his seat to go give Jinhwan a hardware check-up, and Junhwe allows himself a brief moment to worry about Jinhwan, who he hopes isn’t feeling too overwhelmed. Junhwe’s in the middle of debugging a source code on one of his monitor screens when he hears footsteps approaching his seat. He looks up, and a soft smile immediately curls at the edges of his lips when he sees who it is.
“Hey, hyung,” Junhwe says, and Jinhwan smiles back. “How was it?”
“Everything’s fine,” Donghyuk answers instead, and Yunhyeong nods his agreement as he settles back into his seat. “Except Bobby-hyung was a little despaired when he saw the tears in Jinhwan-hyung’s skin…”
Donghyuk trails off, leveling Junhwe with a look, and Junhwe clears his throat slightly. “Right,” he says. “Sorry, Jinhwan-hyung had a little… stunt on a tree.”
Donghyuk opens his mouth to reply, but he’s interrupted by the sound of someone groaning, and then something heavy being dropped onto a table.
“I hate my life but do you know what I hate more?” Chanwoo begins.
“We don’t actually care - ”
“The bloody copier machine,” Chanwoo finishes, holding up a thick bundle of binders. “I came here to learn some damn thing about digital and precision engineering, not to photocopy 250-page manuals - ”
“I can help, if you need?”
Chanwoo stops ranting when Jinhwan speaks up, the robot’s voice a little uncertain, but sincere.
“Hyung,” Junhwe sighs, looking at Jinhwan. “You don’t have to.”
But Jinhwan just smiles a small smile, then follows what Junhwe had done earlier and pats the latter lightly on the cheek, twice. “I would rather help him than sit around doing nothing, June-yah.”
Junhwe’s eyes widen as he chokes a little, and Jinhwan’s smile falters immediately. “I apologise, Junhwe-yah,” the robot says quickly, withdrawing his hand. “I heard Donghyuk call you that just now, and when I asked him about it he said it would be okay to call you by that nickname, but I should have asked you first - ”
“No, hyung, it’s - it’s fine,” Junhwe says to Jinhwan, then he swallows thickly, his cheek feeling warmer than usual from where Jinhwan had touched it. “It’s more than fine, really,” Junhwe adds quietly.
Junhwe glares at Donghyuk when the other software engineer starts laughing behind his hand, shooting Junhwe one last look (seriously, why do people in the lab keep giving him weird looks today?) before walking back down the corridor.
“Understood,” Jinhwan acknowledges, and his smile this time is part-fond, part-embarrassed before he moves to follow after Chanwoo.
“I quite like him.”
Junhwe turns in his chair to face Yunhyeong. “He thanked me multiple times during his hardware check-up just now. Most of the other robotic assistants aren’t equipped with a gratitude programme, so that was… pretty nice.”
Junhwe stares at the brown paper bag sitting atop his desk. “Sometimes I think Jinhwan-hyung is better with people than I could ever be.”
Hanbin snorts lightly then, coming up to both of them to hand over some reports that were just delivered to their floor. “You’re sullen enough to account for the entire lab and maybe seven floors in either direction,” Hanbin says to Junhwe, and Junhwe scowls, but he knows it’s true. “That’s exactly why Jinhwan-hyung’s friendliness is a welcome change.”
(Junhwe thinks back to Hanbin’s rare, smiling face from this morning and finally, it makes sense.)
They work through the rest of the day in relative silence, and after Jinhwan gets back from helping Chanwoo, he alternates between peering over Junhwe’s shoulder to look at his monitor screens and sitting on Junhwe’s desk to observe the flurry of activity in the lab.
“There are a lot of robots here.”
Junhwe looks up when Jinhwan speaks, and he notices that the robot has got one hand covering the black mark on the left side of his neck again.
And Junhwe doesn’t know if he’s just imagining it, but as he stares intently into the robot’s eyes, he swears he sees a tinge of sadness, vulnerability.
“There are,” Junhwe agrees after a brief beat of silence. “But you’re the first robot of your kind, hyung - the only robot created to feel like humans do. You’re special.”
Jinhwan blinks down at him for a moment, but in the next second he’s beaming, smiling at Junhwe in a way the latter can only describe as beatific.
“Thank you, June-yah,” Jinhwan replies softly, and there’s something tender about the way Jinhwan says his name that causes Junhwe’s breath to catch in his throat. “That is very kind of you to say.”
“Anytime, hyung,” Junhwe murmurs back, and his throat feels oddly dry as he watches Jinhwan hop down lightly from his desk, a friendly smile etched on his face when Bobby calls his name.
And hyung, Junhwe thinks, you’re special to me.
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #54
TIME 22:35
Brought Jinhwan back to the lab for his first software testing and hardware checkup. He’s well-liked by the people on the floor and he seemed pretty happy, so I guess that means the programme’s coming along well. If it’s one thing, though, he did look a little off when he saw all the other robots today.
I wonder if it’s enough for me to convince him that he’s different and that he matters, just because he matters so much to me.
☆
PART TWO
Recipient: rixythewraith
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Jinhwan/Junhwe
Length: ~15.5k
Summary: And it’s almost ironic, really, because Junhwe was supposed to be the one teaching Jinhwan about feelings, but as they lie facing each other in bed and Jinhwan’s eyelids begin to flutter close, Junhwe thinks that Jinhwan has finally managed to make him understand what it truly means to love another being.
Notes: 15.5… k… words… i’m going to go die in a ditch. dearest recipient, thank you for your prompts!!! honestly, i spent a lot of time planning the fic and agonising over what, exactly, i was going to write, because your prompt was rather open and i wanted to write something you’d enjoy reading ;; nonetheless, though, i really do hope you like the fic, and i apologise at the onset for any inaccuracies in terminology (〃∀〃) special thanks to my dearest friends who answered all my stupid questions, screamed with me and helped beta the fic, and thank you to the mods for being so understanding ♡
He harboured an infatuation towards her, she knew. She didn’t know if she returned those feelings. Her programming suggested she could love, but she didn’t know how to recognise the feeling. Anything she read spoke of butterflies in one’s stomach, a rapid heartbeat, a feeling of electricity crackling on body contact. Biological things. She could admit she was fond of him in a way she wasn’t fond of anyone else. She recognized that she was willing to overlook his faults in a way she shouldn’t.
-Dragon, Worm
Junhwe’s work day always starts the same.
The alarm on his phone blares at seven-thirty a.m. sharp. Junhwe rolls onto his side, reaching out an arm to blindly shut if off, then he buries his head back into his pillow as he seriously contemplates not showing up to work, just like he does every other morning. But then Junhwe thinks about the forty-eight-hour shifts he’ll have to pull to clear the unavoidable backlog, about squinting at the lines of code on his monitor screen at four in the morning, cursing whenever he hears an eerie-sounding beep coming from one of the computer terminals or labs and promptly succumbs to his fate of turning up to work by nine.
Junhwe stumbles out of bed, takes a quick shower, grabs his things and is out the door in twenty minutes flat, making the short trek to the subway station near his apartment complex. He frowns when his stomach makes a relatively loud grumbling noise, taking a quick glance at his watch and deciding that he probably has enough time to make a quick stop at the FamilyMart and pick up something to eat.
Junhwe grabs a random packet of bbang from the shelf before joining the queue, taking the time to check through his messages and emails on his phone. It’s only when he hears a few dissatisfied grumbles and complaints coming from the front of the line that he lifts his head to see what’s going on: the cashier seems to either be slow or constantly messing up, because the smartly-dressed businesswoman in front of Junhwe rolls her eyes and leaves the queue, while the businessman currently being served only picks up his purchases and walks off after he glares pointedly at the cashier.
Junhwe nods back at the cashier when he greets him, watching closely as he checks out his bbang and asks for 2,000 won, please, movements stiff and voice flat. Junhwe hands him a 5,000 won bill, the cashier turns to the cash register, and Junhwe catches sight of the black marking on the side of his neck.
SYH-67
Junhwe sighs, watching the way the cashier twitches a little and stutters as he hands Junhwe his bbang and his change before leaving the store. Ripping open the packaging and stuffing the bbang into his mouth as he hurries down the steps and barely makes it onto the next subway, Junhwe finally begins his forty-minute-long commute to his workplace.
“You’re late,” is the first thing Junhwe hears after he taps his access card against the sensor and punches in the six-digit passcode for the glass door on his floor.
Junhwe glares at Hanbin, who doesn’t even bother looking up at him from where he’s shuffling some papers around behind the receptionist’s counter. “By like four minutes,” Junhwe retorts, walking into the coatroom to hang up his black coat before slipping into his pristine blue lab coat. “And besides,” Junhwe continues, stepping back out and walking into the main working area instead. “It’s technically Yunhyeong-hyung’s fault that I’m late.”
Yunhyeong sighs, putting down the battery he had been turning around in his hands to shoot Junhwe a look. “And how is that remotely possible when I’ve been here since seven a.m.?”
“SYH-67,” Junhwe says simply, settling into his chair and powering up his monitors. “Your bot was glitching at the FamilyMart in Pangyo Station and holding up the entire line; you’re welcome.”
Yunhyeong groans, burying his face in his hands. Junhwe feels his pain: Yunhyeong’s probably going to have to clock in extra hours to repair his defective robot, test it again, then send it back to the FamilyMart it’s currently deployed to or worse, find a similar yet new place for it to continue carrying out its set functions. But since Junhwe is an asshole who is perpetually pissed off at any time before lunch break, he says, “Don’t worry, hyung, I’m sure a few thirty-six-hour shifts won’t be so bad,” with a sunny smile on his face.
Yunhyeong smiles back. “Don’t forget there’s a high chance you were the software engineer for this robot. So I’m looking forward to the thirty-six-hour shifts with you, Junhwe-yah.”
The smile slips from Junhwe’s face, expression darkening as he flips Yunhyeong the finger. The hardware design engineer rolls his eyes, and Junhwe’s just about to snap something back at him when he’s interrupted by a cheery voice.
“Such joy in the lab at nine-ten in the morning,” Donghyuk says by way of greeting, completely undeterred by Yunhyeong’s sullen mood and the anger radiating off of Junhwe in waves. Donghyuk leans against Junhwe’s desk, crossing his lithe legs at the ankle and sliding a paper cup of coffee onto the table. Junhwe stares at the drink, then looks up at Donghyuk.
“Good morning, Junhwe,” Donghyuk greets pleasantly.
“Whatever you want, my answer is no,” Junhwe deadpans.
Donghyuk’s smile wavers, and if Junhwe were anyone else he’d probably be hard-pressed to deny the fatal combination of Donghyuk with his light brown bangs and lips pushed into a pout, but Junhwe is not anyone else, and he’s known Donghyuk long enough to know that beneath the bubbly, beaming exterior lies a manipulative and disarming little demon.
Junhwe reaching for the coffee seems to snap Donghyuk back to attention, because the brown-haired software engineer swiftly holds the paper cup out of Junhwe’s reach, grinning down at him. “Free coffee for two weeks if you listen to what I have to say. And it’s fully work-related, mind you, so technically you’re obligated to hear me out.”
Junhwe glares at Donghyuk long and hard, but it’s Donghyuk, who just so happens to be the one person in the lab completely unaffected by a grumpy, seething Junhwe. And also, free coffee. “Fine,” Junhwe spits, glancing at one of his monitor screens. “You have ten minutes. I still have to finish developing and testing the software for Yunhyeong-hyung’s new service robot.”
Donghyuk sets the paper cup back onto Junhwe’s desk, and when Junhwe turns to look up at his friend, Donghyuk looks genuinely excited. “I - I wrote a new programme, Junhwe,” Donghyuk breathes, and for a moment Junhwe is back in university, and a black-haired Donghyuk is looking at him with the same excited spark in his eyes as he shakes Junhwe’s arm and tells him that he’s going to graduate as valedictorian. “To create the first robot capable of teaching itself how to feel, just by observing.”
Junhwe’s eyes widen, because this is Big News: while robots have been a commonality for a while now, all of these robots have been purely functional so far - industrial robots, service robots, educational robots, even autonomous robots. Pre-existing software and programmes allow robots to be independent, intelligent; they allow robots to act like humans, but robots still can’t feel like humans do.
Until now, apparently.
“You - ” Junhwe sputters, looking at the proud grin on Donghyuk’s face. “You’re serious, right? You actually managed to write the programme? Don’t fuck with me, Kim Donghyuk, or I swear - ”
“Managed to convince him yet?”
Junhwe’s expression goes flat almost immediately, glaring at Bobby who only grins broadly at him, perches on the edge of his desk next to Donghyuk and takes a long sip of Junhwe’s coffee. Nine in the fucking morning, Junhwe thinks viciously. Bobby more than pulls his weight in the lab as their creative and aesthetics director, but still, he’s ridiculously energetic. Junhwe thinks of Bobby the same way he thinks of the sun - too bright, too warm, here too quickly every morning, and something he’d like damn well as far away from him as possible.
Junhwe ignores Bobby, refocuses his attention back on Donghyuk and arches a brow. “Bobby-hyung and I have been spending the past few months developing this programme and designing the robot that would contain it,” Donghyuk continues explaining. “And now I need your help to beta-test it for me.”
Junhwe’s immediate response is to flat-out reject Donghyuk. “No,” he says firmly, remembering how most of his previous experiences beta-testing either Donghyuk’s or his own software programmes had led to many sleepless nights, migraines and accidents. “Also, you ass, why can’t you beta-test it yourself?”
“You know I have to research about and then develop the software for the new series of collaborative robots, right? My hands are full. Also, your apartment is bigger - ”
“And there’s free coffee,” Bobby chimes in, taking another long sip from what was meant to be Junhwe’s americano.
Junhwe pinches his nose bridge for a long moment. It’s way too early to be sustaining any type of conversation that requires Junhwe to reply with words instead of his preferred vague, grunting sounds, and Junhwe is also acutely aware that if he doesn’t agree, Donghyuk will literally spend the rest of the day badgering him till he says yes, anyway.
“Free coffee for a month, treat me to drinks sometime in the near future, keep Bobby out of my way for all hours of the day and you have yourself a deal,” Junhwe says to Donghyuk.
Bobby opens his mouth to complain, but Donghyuk clamps a hand over his lips. “Free coffee for two weeks.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Jesus, Donghyuk. It’s not even as if you’re going to be the one buying the coffee. We all know that’s going to be Chanwoo.”
“Fine,” Donghyuk hisses. He pushes himself off the desk, stepping on Junhwe’s foot for good measure. Junhwe yelps. “So much for six years of friendship.”
“You're welcome, ungrateful asshole!” Junhwe barks after his friend, but all Junhwe gets in return is Bobby sliding off his desk, loping off with a wide grin on his face and the rest of Junhwe’s coffee in his hand.
Nine-thirty a.m.: the time of the morning when Bobby has found a sense of purpose for the day (and is correspondingly excited, or more so than usual), when the sun is getting brighter by the minute, and when Junhwe wishes with every fibre of his being that he never got out of bed this morning.
☆
Two days later, Junhwe has just finished installing his software into Yunhyeong’s new line of service robots when he feels someone peering over his shoulder.
“Does it work?” Donghyuk asks, watching as Junhwe’s fingers fly over the keyboard as he keys in one last line of code.
“Of course it’ll work, it’s my software,” Junhwe replies flatly, saving his programme before shutting down the monitor. Donghyuk rolls his eyes, waiting for Junhwe to get up before walking down the corridor together. Donghyuk taps his access card against the sensor for WORKING LAB 3, pushing open the glass door after the familiar-sounding beep is heard and letting Junhwe step in before him.
Bobby turns at their arrival, a grin stretching across his face. By default, Junhwe scowls. “You ready to turn him on?”
Him, Junhwe thinks idly, then shrugs, lifting one hand to push his bangs out of his eyes just as Bobby moves aside.
The first thing Junhwe notices about this humanoid robot is how tiny it is, the top of its head barely clearing Junhwe’s shoulder. Bobby has also decided to give this robot a head of bronze-coloured, synthetic hair, bangs falling across its forehead and into its still-shut eyes. The robot is clad in a simple navy blue sweater and a pair of black jeans, and if Junhwe didn’t know any better, he would probably say the robot looked soft, almost.
“Did you intend for this robot to be a sixteen-year-old kid?” Junhwe asks, looking from Bobby to Donghyuk.
Donghyuk winces a little. “I actually programmed him to be three years older than us?”
“Twenty-six - ” Junhwe chokes, then turns on Bobby instead. “Why did you make him so short?”
Bobby regards the robot fondly. “Project Tiny,” Bobby says, chuckling. “I intended the name as a joke for “this is a little side project I have”, which is what Donghyuk told me when I first asked him about the new software he was designing - ”
“And then the joke went a little too far, because the next time I checked up on Bobby-hyung, he was designing a damn short robot,” Donghyuk finishes, shooting Bobby a look, who just shrugs.
Junhwe slides a finger under the robot’s thin wrist, lifting its limp arm for a moment before setting it back down again. The robot’s synthetic skin is soft but cold to the touch.
“I put the power button at the back of his right hip,” Bobby says, and Junhwe circles his arm loosely around the robot, slips a finger under his navy blue sweater, then pushes the cold metallic button once.
There's the soft hum of the machinery warming up, followed by the robot reciting South Korea Robotics Laboratory in an automated, emotionless voice, and then briefly running through a list of its specs. Junhwe turns to shoot Donghyuk a mildly-impressed look when he hears the size of the robot’s hard drive, mainly for maintaining and updating the artificial intelligence programme. Donghyuk’s answering grin is proud.
The robot’s eyes open, looking straight ahead. A brief pause, and then the gentle whir of the central processing unit.
“Input user credentials, please.”
“Koo Junhwe,” Junhwe replies.
“Processing voice recognition,” the robot says, and after a moment it’s like the robot seems to focus its gaze, looking right at Junhwe instead of giving the wall behind him a blank, mechanical stare. “Processing visual recognition,” the robot says again, and Junhwe stands still as the robot stares at him intently for a few seconds, its visual sensors adjusting to its new owner so that its programme would be able to recognise Junhwe from now on. Junhwe uses the time to take in the robot’s eyes: single-lidded, almond-shaped, pupils black and irises dark brown.
“Koo Junhwe, confirmed,” the robot says, and then it blinks twice, its features relaxing, and its lips curve up into the hints of a small, polite smile. “Hello, Junhwe-ssi.”
“Just Junhwe is fine,” Junhwe says.
The robot nods once. “Understood.”
“So,” Junhwe says after a second of silence. “What should I call you?”
“That is for you to decide,” the robot replies.
Junhwe glances at the left side of the robot’s neck. KDH-27. Junhwe frowns. Somehow, he doesn’t feel like calling this robot by a series of letters and numbers.
“How about Jinhwan?” Donghyuk voices from behind them, looking up from where he’s been keying in some observations into one of the monitors in the room. “I actually intended to call him that, because it follows your initials, Junhwe.”
Jinhwan, Junhwe thinks, turning his gaze back to the robot in front of him. The robot waits patiently, looking up at Junhwe.
“Okay,” Junhwe says finally. “Jinhwan.”
“Jinhwan,” the robot repeats quietly, as though it were testing out how the name would sound like in its own voice. Then the robot smiles, a little wider this time, just enough to cause its eyes to crinkle slightly at the edges. Junhwe can see the identical proud grins on Bobby’s and Donghyuk’s faces from the corner of his eye. “Jinhwan, confirmed,” the robot says, louder this time.
“And I think we’re done here,” Donghyuk says, and Junhwe hears the sound of the monitor shutting down and a USB being ejected. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Junhwe-yah. Just bring him back after a few weeks so I can run some tests on the software.”
Junhwe grunts noncommittally, walking to the glass door and pressing the exit button before holding it open. He turns to see whether Jinhwan is following him, and realises that the robot is only two steps behind.
“There’re usually more people in the lab,” Junhwe says, just for the sake of saying something as he watches Jinhwan’s eyes rove over the dark, empty area. “It’s just because it’s past office hours now, and I guess nobody had to pull an extended shift - hang on, let me grab my things.”
Junhwe grabs his messenger bag from his desk, then moves to the coatroom to trade his blue lab coat for his own black one. When he steps back out, Jinhwan is waiting for him patiently, at the exact same spot.
The journey back to Junhwe’s apartment is quiet and uneventful, the silence not uncomfortable but just a little bit awkward. The only time they exchange words is when they arrive at Yangjae Station to transfer lines, and Jinhwan lightly taps Junhwe on the arm to inform him nicely that Junhwe, if you would you like to catch the next subway, then we might have to walk to the platform a little faster. Apart from that, though, Junhwe busies himself with his phone for a majority of the journey back home, occasionally glancing over at Jinhwan to see that the robot seems perfectly content with just watching the city go by.
“Well, this is it,” Junhwe says a little while later when they arrive at his apartment. Junhwe lets Jinhwan step in before him, locking the front door and watching the robot’s gaze focus a little as its visual recognition sensors absorb the layout of the apartment. Junhwe’s job at the lab pays well, so his apartment is considerably comfortable.
“Do you live alone, Junhwe?” Jinhwan asks once he’s done taking in the place.
“Yeah,” Junhwe replies. “Why do you ask?”
“I notice there are four rooms down the hall,” Jinhwan answers, then pauses. “I apologise if I should not have asked that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Junhwe assures the robot. “One room is my bedroom, another is my study, the smallest door leads to the bathroom and the last room is unoccupied, like a guest room.”
“I see,” Jinhwan replies, looking around again. Junhwe regards him for a moment, then clears his throat.
“I’m going to… take a shower, then probably head to bed,” Junhwe says, finding it a little weird that he has to explain his actions to someone else, now, after having lived alone for so long.
Jinhwan nods. “That sounds like a wise choice. It is getting late.”
It’s barely eleven p.m., Junhwe wants to say, but then decides it’s probably not worth it. “Feel free to look around the apartment, I guess? Familiarise yourself with the space, or something.”
Jinhwan nods again. “Understood.”
When Junhwe emerges from his shower a short while later, he finds Jinhwan in the kitchen, staring into one of his cabinets. The robot turns to face him. “Based on nutrition facts, I do not think eating this much ramyun is particularly healthy, Junhwe.”
Junhwe feels his face begin to heat up, moving forward to shut the cabinet. “I don’t eat it all the time,” he grumbles. “In fact, I’m at the lab so much that I rarely eat at home.”
Jinhwan nods in understanding. “I suppose that would explain the state of your refrigerator. Kimchi and soju cannot possibly make for a balanced diet.”
Junhwe sputters for a moment, then sighs in resignation. “You know what? I’m going to bed,” he says finally, pushing a hand through his still-damp hair. “Can you handle your own recharging needs?”
“Yes, I can,” Jinhwan replies, and Junhwe nods.
“All right then. Let me just set up the charging station for you. Is the living room okay?” Junhwe asks, moving to fetch Jinhwan’s charging wire that he had taken home from the lab.
“That is fine, thank you.”
Junhwe pushes the plug into the socket, leaves the orange cord on the floor, then gets to his feet. He opens his mouth for a second, but ends up closing it again. What was he intending to say, really?
“Good night, Junhwe.”
Junhwe startles a little, but Jinhwan just looks at him politely. “Yeah,” Junhwe clears his throat. “Night.”
And Junhwe doesn’t know if he’s just imagining it, but as Jinhwan turns away from him, Junhwe swears he sees the robot’s lips quirk up in the hints of an amused smile, pulled just high enough to reveal a bit of his teeth.
☆
When Junhwe’s alarm blares at seven-thirty the next morning, the first thing that hits him is the scent of food cooking in his kitchen.
Junhwe jerks awake, wondering who the fuck decided to break into his apartment, because food is almost never being cooked in his home, least of all on a weekday morning. But then he trips out of his bedroom - eyes half-open and black hair a rightful mess atop his head - and is greeted by the sight of Jinhwan in the kitchen, currently cooking something on the stove.
Jinhwan turns his head at the sound of Junhwe’s entrance and a pleasant smile curls at the edges of his lips, his eyes curving up into slight crescents. Junhwe blinks at the sight. “Good morning, Junhwe,” the robot greets politely.
“Mornin’,” Junhwe mumbles back, voice a little hoarse from sleep and gaze still slightly unfocused. “What… are you doing?”
The question seems to catch the robot off-guard. “I decided to prepare some breakfast for you,” Jinhwan responds, then pauses a little uncertainly. “I apologise if I should have asked before using your kitchen - ”
“No, really, it’s fine,” Junhwe cuts in, and honestly, it’s more than just fine: Junhwe thinks the last time someone made breakfast for him was when his mother came over to check up on him when he had first moved into the apartment, and that was about a year ago. So as he watches Jinhwan turn off the stove and slide the tamagoyaki from the pan to a clean plate, his heart feels strangely warm. “Thank you,” Junhwe remembers to add, touched.
Another small smile from Jinhwan. “You are welcome.”
Junhwe heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth before digging into the food, and he moans appreciatively after the first few bites. Jinhwan laughs a little at his reaction, and it’s Junhwe’s first time hearing the sound: soft, tinkling and slightly amused.
(Junhwe decides it’s a very nice laugh.)
“I am glad you like the food, Junhwe,” Jinhwan comments, and Junhwe wonders idly if the robot intended for that statement to sound teasing.
“Trust me, this is so much better than the crappy bread varieties I’ve been picking up from FamilyMart for the past year,” Junhwe responds, swallowing a mouthful of the tamagoyaki. “I’m surprised you managed to make anything at all considering I have, like, nothing in my fridge.”
Jinhwan laughs again, a short sound but a little louder this time as he starts to clean the kitchen counter. Junhwe finishes his food quickly, then moves to get ready for work. He’s just grabbed his coat and is about to leave the apartment when he turns around to face Jinhwan.
“I hope you won’t be too bored,” Junhwe says, slightly hesitant. “And don’t open the door for anyone,” he adds as an afterthought.
“Understood,” Jinhwan replies, and then a small smile curls at the edges of his lips. “Have a good day at work, Junhwe.”
The robot’s voice sounds just a little too mechanical to pass off as human, but it’s still soft, kind of warm.
For the first time in a long while, Junhwe leaves his apartment with a pleasant feeling blooming in his chest.
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #01
TIME 22:54
Verified that Jinhwan can cook, clean and perform basic human tasks - no major bugs detected.
☆
On Saturday, Junhwe only rolls out of bed when it’s well-past noon.
Jinhwan is sitting on the windowsill in the living room when Junhwe finally stumbles down the hall, and the robot turns immediately at the sound of Junhwe’s footsteps.
“Good afternoon, Junhwe,” Jinhwan greets, and his lips twitch slightly in the hints of an amused smile. Junhwe is seriously beginning to wonder if he’s really that humorous of a person, or if Donghyuk just designed this robot specifically to laugh at him. “It is a relief to see that you are finally awake.”
Junhwe feels his cheeks begin to heat up traitorously, so he frowns to hide his slight embarrassment. “I sleep in during the weekends because sleep is a distant concept for me every other day of the week,” he grumbles.
Junhwe doesn’t know if it’s just because his eyes are crusty from sleep, but it’s like Jinhwan’s smile softens into something that Junhwe can only describe as slightly fond. “You must be hungry,” Jinhwan says instead, getting up and starting for the kitchen. “I will make you something to eat.”
Junhwe is about to fall face-first onto the couch and settle in for a quick nap while Jinhwan cooks, but the image of the robot looking out the glass windows just now just makes Junhwe think. “Hey,” Junhwe says, and Jinhwan stops walking, turning around to face him. “How about we walk around the area instead, today?”
Jinhwan blinks. “If that is what you would like to do.”
Truth be told, Junhwe has never been much of an outdoor person: if he had it his way, he would spend all his weekends lying in bed, only getting up when he can no longer deny his hunger or stand the smell of his own breath. But he’s been beta-testing Jinhwan for a few days, now, and a part of him feels bad for leaving the robot cooped up in the apartment all the time, because Junhwe simply doesn’t have the time for anything else besides work.
So Junhwe just shrugs, carding a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he answers. “It'll be a good way to test your programme, too. See how fast you familiarise yourself with the area and all.”
Jinhwan nods. “Understood.”
And that’s how Junhwe finds himself leaving his apartment complex a little while later, dressed in a white sweater and a worn pair of black jeans as he brings Jinhwan around the neighbourhood. They’re silent for the first few minutes, and that’s when Junhwe finally realises that apart from the little exchanges they have before Junhwe leaves for work in the morning and after he returns at night, he and Jinhwan have never actually held a sustained conversation.
“There is something bothering you.”
Junhwe startles, glancing down at the robot who’s looking up at him with a knowing look in his eye. “I was programmed to detect changes in your mood by sensing things like your facial expressions, your heart rate, your breathing rate,” Jinhwan explains, and then his lips curve up into that same smile from just now, the one that Junhwe swears seems almost fond. It makes Junhwe’s chest tighten, somewhat. “Your brows keep furrowing, Junhwe - you have been thinking about something very hard.”
Fucking nerd Donghyuk programming such a perceptive robot, Junhwe curses in his mind. But it’s only half-scathing, though, and Junhwe swallows a little uncomfortably, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “It’s nothing, really,” Junhwe begins, wetting his dry lips with his tongue. “I guess I just realised that we haven’t had the chance to actually… talk? And considering how I’m supposed to be beta-testing your programme, and you’re kind of staying in my apartment - I mean - I guess we should probably…”
Junhwe trails off awkwardly, because god - his thoughts sounds so much more stupid out loud.
But then Jinhwan lets out a soft laugh, and when Junhwe looks down at the robot, his eyes are crinkled slightly at the edges, and for the first time, his lips are pulled high enough to reveal his synthetic teeth, small and white and even.
Junhwe swallows down the sudden lump in his throat. He’s cute, a voice in his head supplies softly.
“I apologise for laughing, Junhwe, but yes,” Jinhwan says, and he’s still got a small smile on his face. “I would like to talk to you more, too.”
Junhwe blinks, then coughs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leads them into the neighbourhood park. There’s the sound of children yelling, dogs barking and ladies laughing; the leaves on the trees rustle occasionally in the wind and the sun hangs high in the azure sky. Junhwe watches as Jinhwan tilts his face up towards the sky, his eyes slipping shut and his lips quirking up a little at the edges.
“This is really nice, Junhwe,” Jinhwan says after a moment, looking over at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
It’s just a park, Junhwe thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s just about to open his mouth when the robot speaks again.
“Would it be okay if I asked you to tell me more about yourself?”
Junhwe nods as they resume walking, mulling over what he should say so he doesn’t sound completely boring. “I was born and raised in Seoul,” he begins. “I have an older sister. I did relatively well in school, but I didn’t really have that many friends - I guess I never truly mastered the art of interacting with other people.” The corners of Jinhwan’s lips twitch at this, and even Junhwe cracks one of his typical half-smirks. “I majored in software engineering in university, got an internship at the lab in my last year, and basically sold my soul to the place since,” he continues, and he’s only half-joking. “Oh, and I’m twenty-three this year. Donghyuk programmed you to be three years older than us, though, so I think I should… be calling you hyung? Like… Jinhwan-hyung.”
Junhwe pauses. Jinhwan-hyung. It’s the first time he’s saying it, but he finds he really likes how the two words sound together, rolling off his tongue.
“And you can speak to me more informally, too. Like Junhwe-yah, or something. I dunno, it’s up to you,” Junhwe finishes lamely.
“Understood,” Jinhwan replies. “Junhwe-yah.”
(And Jinhwan is doing exactly what Junhwe asked of him, but Junhwe doesn’t know why the robot’s standard response disappoints him, just a little.)
They continue to walk along the path, their arms brushing occasionally as they exchange light conversation. When they come across a small FamilyMart a short while later, Junhwe stops walking.
“I’m gonna grab some food, hyung,” Junhwe says. “You can wait out here.”
Junhwe walks into the FamilyMart, grabbing an onigiri, a roll of kimbap and a cold canned coffee before heading to the cashier. He spends some time heating up his food in the microwave at the back of the store, but when he pushes open the door again and steps back outside, the sight that greets him almost causes him to drop his onigiri in horror.
Jinhwan is fucking climbing a tree.
“Hyung!” Junhwe shouts, running over to the tree where a small crowd has already begun to form. “Jinhwan-hyung! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Jinhwan looks down at him, and it’s only then when Junhwe finally notices the brown tabby cat stuck on one of the branches. The cat lets out a meow, and Junhwe is almost sent into cardiac arrest when Jinhwan stretches out an arm, and the cat leaps into his embrace. Thankfully they’re not too high up, though, and after a bit of slow, careful manoeuvring, Jinhwan lands lightly on the grass with the cat still in his arms.
“The cat was stuck in the tree, so I went to get it down,” Jinhwan explains when Junhwe rushes up to him. “Because statistically speaking, most humans appear to have a favourable attitude towards felines.”
Junhwe is about to open his mouth to point out to the robot that No, This Is Not How It Works, but then a few children run up to them, staring at the tabby in Jinhwan’s arms with interest. A small smile curls at the edges of Jinhwan’s lips as he crouches slightly, the cat jumping out of his arms and onto the grass only for the children to surround it immediately. Junhwe just stares at the scene.
“You sounded angry, just now,” Jinhwan says, and Junhwe shifts his gaze back to the robot to see that the small smile has slipped off his face. “I apologise if I made you upset, Junhwe-yah.”
“I wasn’t mad,” Junhwe sighs, feeling his heartbeat fall back into a more comfortable rhythm as the adrenaline begins to leave his system. “Just worried,” he finishes, taking in the rips in Jinhwan’s sweater from his stunt on the tree.
Jinhwan notices, and the robot blinks at him in slight confusion as they begin to walk back to the apartment complex. “I cannot get hurt, Junhwe-yah. There is no need for you to worry.”
“I know,” Junhwe says, but then he thinks about the mild panic that had surged through him when he had first seen Jinhwan climbing the tree, the multiple ways in which an accident could happen flashing through his mind like a roll of film. He swallows thickly, thinking about how he could possibly explain this to the robot. “Sometimes, we just worry about the people we care about. There doesn’t have to be a reason behind it - we just do.”
Junhwe watches as Jinhwan regards him closely, the robot’s brows knitting together in slight confusion as his programme tries to process the things that Junhwe is saying. Eventually Jinhwan’s expression clears, and he nods a couple of times, slowly.
“Understood,” Jinhwan says, and then in a softer voice, adds, “Thank you for your concern, Junhwe-yah.”
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #04
TIME 17:55
Jinhwan rescued a cat from a tree today. If he comes with animal-friendly programming, then I can definitely verify that it’s running perfectly. His risk-processing programming, though - that I’m not so sure.
☆
The next week passes relatively uneventfully.
Junhwe is still out of the apartment for around eleven to twelve hours a day, but the air between Junhwe and Jinhwan has become noticeably more comfortable: they slip into easy conversation over short breakfasts and longer dinners (after Junhwe finally decided to make a grocery run one day after work), Junhwe tells Jinhwan more about his life as a student and at work whenever the robot asks, and Jinhwan still always greets Junhwe good morning with a smile on his face.
And Junhwe has never had a problem with living alone, but now he returns home to a small-sized humanoid robot smiling at him and welcoming him back, steps out of the shower to be greeted by the smell of home-cooked food in the kitchen and thinks that yeah, he could definitely get used to this.
By some mad stroke of luck, Junhwe is actually allowed to leave the lab before the sun sets one evening. He punches in the passcode to his apartment, then pushes open the door.
“I’m home,” Junhwe calls, slipping off his shoes and shrugging off his coat.
“Welcome back, Junhwe-yah,” Jinhwan replies naturally, then his head tilts a little to the side. “You are home early today.”
Cute, Junhwe thinks, and he can’t help the grin that stretches across his face even as he shrugs. “I know. I thought it was a joke when it first happened. Anyway, hyung, you don’t have to make anything today - I got takeout,” Junhwe says, holding up the white plastic bag. “I’ll go take a shower, then we can… watch television?”
Jinhwan takes the bag from Junhwe, his lips curving up into a sunny smile. It’s the smile that reveals his teeth, and causes his eyes to crinkle a little at the sides - Junhwe really likes this smile.
“That sounds nice, Junhwe-yah,” Jinhwan says in response, and Junhwe is once again reminded about how even the simplest things can make the robot seem so happy.
Junhwe emerges from his shower a short while later and joins Jinhwan on the couch, where the robot has already heated up his jajangmyeon for him. “Thanks, hyung,” Junhwe says, plopping onto the other end of the couch and turning on the television. “Is there anything you wanna watch?”
The robot shakes his head. “You can decide, Junhwe-yah.”
“You may not like my taste in movies, though,” Junhwe murmurs under his breath, as he eventually settles on a romance film he’s seen a couple of times before. They watch the movie in companionable silence, but after Junhwe finishes his jajangmyeon and places the empty container onto the coffee table, he becomes more aware of the distance between them on the couch, and the way Jinhwan is watching the movie with his back straight and his hands folded neatly in his lap.
So Junhwe clears his throat, and Jinhwan turns his head to face him. “Hyung,” Junhwe says, and he winces at how awkward he sounds already. Interacting with other people has really never been his strong suit. “You can relax, you know? Like, lean back against the couch, put your feet up or whatever. And - I mean, if you want - you can… come closer…?”
Junhwe feels his neck flush traitorously, and he scowls, annoyed at himself for getting flustered around a robot.
But Jinhwan just nods his head in understanding, shifting closer to Junhwe before tucking his legs up against his chest and resting his chin on his arms, then returning his attention to the movie. Junhwe swallows, moving to meet Jinhwan halfway, and when he crosses his legs on the couch their thighs are touching a little, and so are their sides.
The contact is nice, comfortable - Junhwe relaxes into it, and he’s never been a touchy person.
“Junhwe-yah?”
Junhwe startles a little, but turns his gaze away from the television to look down at the robot instead. “Yeah?”
“I apologise if this sounds like a silly question, but why did the male lead allow the masked man to escape with all of his important documents, just now? He could have stopped him and avoided the huge monetary loss that he is currently facing, but he made the illogical choice not to.”
Junhwe blinks. “Hyung… he chose to let the masked man take his things because he wanted to protect the woman that he loves. She could’ve gotten hurt.”
A pause, and then, “I do not understand, Junhwe.”
And Junhwe is suddenly reminded of the fact that as intelligent and human-like as Jinhwan may seem, he is essentially only still a product of Donghyuk’s remarkable programming and Bobby’s creative designing, built and manufactured in the very lab Junhwe spends so much of his waking hours in. He was programmed to be the first robot capable of feeling, but there’s still so much he doesn’t yet know, hasn’t been exposed to, and Junhwe is hit with the sudden realisation that most of what Jinhwan will eventually come to understand about emotion is going to come from him.
Him. Koo Junhwe. As in, emotionally-stunted twenty-three year-old software engineer Koo Junhwe.
“He loves her,” Junhwe begins after a moment, looking back at the screen. “This woman that he’s holding now - she’s very important to him. Meaning he… likes her, cares for her, wants to protect her, wants her to be happy, but it’s also so much more than that,” Junhwe continues, pausing awkwardly between his words because talking about feelings - even if they aren’t his own - has never come easy to him. “So yeah: while he might not have made the most logical choice by letting the masked man escape with his things, we always make sure that the people we love don’t ever come to harm.”
There’s silence between them as Jinhwan’s programme processes Junhwe’s words, and Junhwe finds himself glancing down at the robot and taking in the way his eyes are still focused so intently on the screen, and how he manages to look even smaller, now, sitting close to Junhwe and dwarfed in one of his oversized white hoodies.
The light from the television screen casts moving shadows across Jinhwan’s face, the wind from the ceiling fan blows, and the strands of synthetic bronze hair on the robot’s head ruffle ever-so-slightly.
Junhwe swallows thickly as his heart begins to thud.
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #22
TIME 23:59
Jinhwan asked about the seemingly illogical things people do in the name of love, this evening. Honestly, I think the only reason why I’m beta-testing this programme is because Donghyuk wants to make my life more miserable than it already is.
☆
“Bring Jinhwan in tomorrow,” Donghyuk says to Junhwe as they’re getting ready to leave the lab the following Thursday. “I want to run some tests on his software.”
And that’s how Junhwe finds himself taking the subway to work the next morning with Jinhwan by his side, the robot’s fingers curled tight around the handles of a brown paper bag that Junhwe knows contains his breakfast. Junhwe had woken up cursing and late, but Jinhwan had just smiled that half-amused, half-fond smile at him, packing the kimbap he had prepared for Junhwe into a small, clean Tupperware.
The subway station is crowded due to the morning rush hour, smartly-dressed businessmen talking loudly on their cellphones as they wait for the subway to arrive and businesswomen hurrying towards the platforms in their three-inch heels. A few subway station staff stand around the platform area to manage the crowd, and Junhwe’s lips twitch a little in the hints of a proud half-smirk when the staff standing nearest to him and Jinhwan turns his head, and Junhwe sees KJH-32 on the side of his neck.
Junhwe looks down, and he watches as Jinhwan brings his free hand up to cover the identical mark he has on the left side of his neck. “Did he come from the lab you work at, too?”
“Yeah,” Junhwe answers as the subway arrives. “I designed his software.”
(His, Junhwe thinks idly. A few weeks ago, he probably would’ve said its.)
The subway doors open, and people stream out. There’s a significant amount of jostling and stumbling as the passengers on the platform fight to squeeze their way onto the subway, and its instinct alone that causes Junhwe to wrap his right arm around Jinhwan’s shoulders, holding the robot close against his side after someone bumps into him, and he staggers.
“Keep close,” Junhwe murmurs as they step into the carriage, jam-packed with people. “It’s crowded.”
“Understood,” comes the standard response, but then the subway jerks as it begins to move, and Jinhwan turns his face into Junhwe’s chest a little when the latter pulls him in. “Thank you, Junhwe-yah,” Jinhwan adds softly.
And it’s honestly not like how authors describe it in romance novels: Jinhwan isn’t exactly warm, or soft against his side. But the robot is small, a real weight leaning against Junhwe, and Junhwe tightens the grip he has around Jinhwan’s shoulders imperceptibly.
Jinhwan sticks close to Junhwe when they arrive at the lab, the visual recognition sensors in his eyes working to absorb the slightly unfamiliar surroundings. They catch the lift down to the floor Junhwe works on, and then Junhwe is tapping his access card against the sensor, punching in the six-digit passcode, and pushing open the glass door.
“You’re - oh.”
Hanbin’s voice trails off when he looks up and notices that Junhwe isn’t alone. There’s an awkward moment of silence when Hanbin just stares dumbly at Jinhwan, but then Jinhwan ducks his head a little in a slight bow, and speaks.
“Good morning,” Jinhwan greets, voice neutral but pleasant.
“Good… morning,” Hanbin replies, then he shoots Junhwe a pointed look, lifting a brow in question.
Junhwe rolls his eyes, resting a gentle hand on Jinhwan’s shoulder. Hanbin stares at it. “Jinhwan-hyung, this is Hanbin-hyung. He’s the receptionist for our floor. Jinhwan-hyung is running the new programme I’m beta-testing,” Junhwe introduces, directing the last part at Hanbin before walking into the coatroom to change into his blue lab coat.
Jinhwan’s standard, polite smile curls at the edges of his lips. “It is nice to meet you, Hanbin-ssi.”
“Just Hanbin is fine,” Hanbin replies. “And it’s nice to meet you too.”
Jinhwan’s smile widens into something a little warmer just as Junhwe steps back out to join them, tilting his head in the general direction of the lab as a sign for Jinhwan to follow him.
“Have a good day, Hanbin,” Jinhwan says, smiling at him one more time before turning to follow after Junhwe.
Junhwe furrows his brows when he sees the pleasantly surprised expression on Hanbin’s face as he settles back into his seat. “What did you say to him?” Junhwe asks Jinhwan when the robot falls into step beside him.
Jinhwan blinks. “Nothing, really,” he responds, setting Junhwe’s breakfast down on his desk when the younger falls onto his chair. “I just told him to have a good day.”
“Huh,” Junhwe comments, but chooses to let the matter drop.
Junhwe moves a stack of papers on his desk into one of the drawers below, and Jinhwan slides onto the empty space accordingly as he pulls the Tupperware out of the paper bag. The corners of Junhwe’s lips quirk upwards into the hints of a small smile when he sees how Jinhwan’s feet can’t touch the floor - it’s adorable.
Unfortunately, Junhwe has barely managed to take his first bite of kimbap when a hand reaches in from literally nowhere and snags a piece. Jinhwan’s eyes widen.
“What the fuck,” Junhwe hisses, spinning around in his chair only to be greeted by the sight of a grinning Yunhyeong and a laughing Chanwoo.
“It’s good,” Yunhyeong says after he swallows, and the satisfied look on his face only makes Junhwe’s scowl deepen.
“That means Junhwe-hyung didn’t make it.”
“700K won, shut up.”
Chanwoo glares. “I am so severely undercompensated.”
Junhwe snorts. “May your meagre internship allowance always piss on your plans for corporate domination.”
Chanwoo is just about to retort, but then Yunhyeong notices the confused and mildly-worried expression on Jinhwan’s face and decides to cut in, gaze flickering quickly over the black marking on his neck. “Hello,” Yunhyeong greets, his standard, amicable smile stretched across his face. “Are you Jinhwan-ssi?”
Jinhwan appears a little startled at the fact that Yunhyeong is addressing him directly, but he nods. “Yes. It is nice to meet you - ”
“Yunhyeong,” Yunhyeong introduces himself, lifting a hand. “Hardware design engineer. I’m pretty sure I need to give you a hardware check-up later. And this,” Yunhyeong continues, throwing his other arm around Chanwoo. “Is Chanwoo. He’s the intern on our floor.”
Chanwoo grumbles under his breath, but Yunhyeong just smiles at Jinhwan. “Did you make the kimbap?” He asks. “It’s really good.”
“I did,” Jinhwan answers, and Junhwe sees the robot’s lips curve into a small, pleased smile, almost blooming under the praise. “Thank you. If you want, I could make some more for the next time I return to the lab - ”
“No,” Junhwe interrupts flatly, packing up the now-empty Tupperware before glaring at Yunhyeong and Chanwoo over his shoulder. “Get your own robots.”
“I was hoping you would show Jinhwan-hyung some positive aspects of the human spirit, June-yah, but clearly I was mistaken.”
Junhwe rolls his eyes as Donghyuk walks up to them, the brown-haired software engineer giving Jinhwan a quick once-over before grinning proudly. “Hi, Jinhwan-hyung. I’m Donghyuk. Could you follow me, please? I need to run some tests on your software and check on your programme.”
Jinhwan’s gaze flickers back down to Junhwe, and Junhwe feels his expression soften when he sees the hesitation in the robot’s eyes. “It’s all right, hyung,” Junhwe reassures the robot gently, and he pauses uncertainly for a second, but eventually swallows down the lump in his throat and lifts a hand to rest lightly against Jinhwan’s right cheek. Jinhwan’s synthetic skin is cold, but after the robot exhales breathlessly and Junhwe lets his hand drop, his palm still comes away feeling like fire. “You can go with him.”
“Interesting,” Donghyuk murmurs as Jinhwan gets off the desk and walks towards him, raising a brow at Junhwe pointedly.
“Shut up,” Junhwe mumbles, powering up his monitors and glaring at Yunhyeong as he settles into his seat with a mysterious, badly-suppressed smile on his face.
After Jinhwan leaves with Donghyuk, silence settles upon the main working area of the lab as everyone gets into the rhythm of work. Junhwe isn’t sure how many hours pass, but at one point Yunhyeong gets up from his seat to go give Jinhwan a hardware check-up, and Junhwe allows himself a brief moment to worry about Jinhwan, who he hopes isn’t feeling too overwhelmed. Junhwe’s in the middle of debugging a source code on one of his monitor screens when he hears footsteps approaching his seat. He looks up, and a soft smile immediately curls at the edges of his lips when he sees who it is.
“Hey, hyung,” Junhwe says, and Jinhwan smiles back. “How was it?”
“Everything’s fine,” Donghyuk answers instead, and Yunhyeong nods his agreement as he settles back into his seat. “Except Bobby-hyung was a little despaired when he saw the tears in Jinhwan-hyung’s skin…”
Donghyuk trails off, leveling Junhwe with a look, and Junhwe clears his throat slightly. “Right,” he says. “Sorry, Jinhwan-hyung had a little… stunt on a tree.”
Donghyuk opens his mouth to reply, but he’s interrupted by the sound of someone groaning, and then something heavy being dropped onto a table.
“I hate my life but do you know what I hate more?” Chanwoo begins.
“We don’t actually care - ”
“The bloody copier machine,” Chanwoo finishes, holding up a thick bundle of binders. “I came here to learn some damn thing about digital and precision engineering, not to photocopy 250-page manuals - ”
“I can help, if you need?”
Chanwoo stops ranting when Jinhwan speaks up, the robot’s voice a little uncertain, but sincere.
“Hyung,” Junhwe sighs, looking at Jinhwan. “You don’t have to.”
But Jinhwan just smiles a small smile, then follows what Junhwe had done earlier and pats the latter lightly on the cheek, twice. “I would rather help him than sit around doing nothing, June-yah.”
Junhwe’s eyes widen as he chokes a little, and Jinhwan’s smile falters immediately. “I apologise, Junhwe-yah,” the robot says quickly, withdrawing his hand. “I heard Donghyuk call you that just now, and when I asked him about it he said it would be okay to call you by that nickname, but I should have asked you first - ”
“No, hyung, it’s - it’s fine,” Junhwe says to Jinhwan, then he swallows thickly, his cheek feeling warmer than usual from where Jinhwan had touched it. “It’s more than fine, really,” Junhwe adds quietly.
Junhwe glares at Donghyuk when the other software engineer starts laughing behind his hand, shooting Junhwe one last look (seriously, why do people in the lab keep giving him weird looks today?) before walking back down the corridor.
“Understood,” Jinhwan acknowledges, and his smile this time is part-fond, part-embarrassed before he moves to follow after Chanwoo.
“I quite like him.”
Junhwe turns in his chair to face Yunhyeong. “He thanked me multiple times during his hardware check-up just now. Most of the other robotic assistants aren’t equipped with a gratitude programme, so that was… pretty nice.”
Junhwe stares at the brown paper bag sitting atop his desk. “Sometimes I think Jinhwan-hyung is better with people than I could ever be.”
Hanbin snorts lightly then, coming up to both of them to hand over some reports that were just delivered to their floor. “You’re sullen enough to account for the entire lab and maybe seven floors in either direction,” Hanbin says to Junhwe, and Junhwe scowls, but he knows it’s true. “That’s exactly why Jinhwan-hyung’s friendliness is a welcome change.”
(Junhwe thinks back to Hanbin’s rare, smiling face from this morning and finally, it makes sense.)
They work through the rest of the day in relative silence, and after Jinhwan gets back from helping Chanwoo, he alternates between peering over Junhwe’s shoulder to look at his monitor screens and sitting on Junhwe’s desk to observe the flurry of activity in the lab.
“There are a lot of robots here.”
Junhwe looks up when Jinhwan speaks, and he notices that the robot has got one hand covering the black mark on the left side of his neck again.
And Junhwe doesn’t know if he’s just imagining it, but as he stares intently into the robot’s eyes, he swears he sees a tinge of sadness, vulnerability.
“There are,” Junhwe agrees after a brief beat of silence. “But you’re the first robot of your kind, hyung - the only robot created to feel like humans do. You’re special.”
Jinhwan blinks down at him for a moment, but in the next second he’s beaming, smiling at Junhwe in a way the latter can only describe as beatific.
“Thank you, June-yah,” Jinhwan replies softly, and there’s something tender about the way Jinhwan says his name that causes Junhwe’s breath to catch in his throat. “That is very kind of you to say.”
“Anytime, hyung,” Junhwe murmurs back, and his throat feels oddly dry as he watches Jinhwan hop down lightly from his desk, a friendly smile etched on his face when Bobby calls his name.
And hyung, Junhwe thinks, you’re special to me.
☆
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #54
TIME 22:35
Brought Jinhwan back to the lab for his first software testing and hardware checkup. He’s well-liked by the people on the floor and he seemed pretty happy, so I guess that means the programme’s coming along well. If it’s one thing, though, he did look a little off when he saw all the other robots today.
I wonder if it’s enough for me to convince him that he’s different and that he matters, just because he matters so much to me.
☆
PART TWO