teach me to feel this thing you call love [2/2]
[ PART ONE]
Days bleed into weeks and weeks bleed into months, and very soon, Junhwe’s been beta-testing Jinhwan’s programme for a little over two months.
Knowing that Jinhwan is waiting for him back in the apartment always drives Junhwe to work faster during the day, because evenings are the only time they have together during the weekdays. Junhwe honestly used to be all right with leaving the lab late, because burying himself in his work helped to distract him from the fact that he really didn’t have anything or anyone waiting for him at home.
But that’s different, now: now he’s got a cute, small-sized humanoid robot waiting for him to come home with home-cooked food on the table, so they can laze around on the couch and watch mind-numbing television together till Junhwe’s on the brink of falling asleep.
Junhwe’s weekends get better, too, no longer just him sleeping in till mid-afternoon and eating an assortment of ramyun and takeout, but now he has someone to head out with to do the grocery shopping, go to the mall, catch the occasional movie or even just take an aimless walk around the neighbourhood.
Some people might call them domestic, boring, but Junhwe doesn’t care: it’s easy, it’s nice, and at the heart of it all, Junhwe’s pretty sure he’ll be happy whatever it is they’re doing as long as he’s spending the time with Jinhwan.
Unfortunately, though, work still occupies the biggest space in Junhwe’s reality, and there will always be shit days at work.
Junhwe returns to the apartment one evening with an incessant throbbing in his head, and the sound of his passcode being keyed into the lock only manages to piss him off further as he pushes the door open violently and steps across the threshold.
“Welcome back - ”
Jinhwan’s typical greeting fades into nothing as the robot takes in the way Junhwe kicks off his shoes, tosses his coat over the couch (instead of hanging it up like he usually does) then storms down the hall to his room, slamming the door shut with a loud bang. Junhwe undoes the top two buttons of his white work shirt, yanks his phone and wallet out of the back pocket of his pants, tosses them somewhere onto his bedside table and then falls face-first onto his bed, letting out a frustrated shout into his pillow.
Work in the lab is time-consuming and never-ending but usually relatively peaceful - one of the reasons why Junhwe chose to become a software engineer in the first place was because he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with people so often. But there had been a meeting with some of their supervisors today, and Junhwe’s lab had gotten chewed out for a few missed deadlines, slipshod reports and defects in the robots they’ve designed and released to the public.
Junhwe’s in the midst of cursing one of his supervisors viciously in his head when there’s a soft, tentative knock on the door.
“June-yah?”
Junhwe doesn’t respond, afraid that he’ll snap if he opens his mouth. There’s silence for a few more seconds, and then Jinhwan speaks again.
“Are you hungry? There’s dinner in the refrigerator, if you are,” Jinhwan says, but he sounds uncertain. A pause, and then, “June-yah?”
The silence that weighs down on them is thick and uncomfortable, and Junhwe feels the throbbing in his head get worse when he eventually hears Jinhwan’s footsteps walking away from his bedroom door. He rolls over onto his back after a few minutes, just staring blankly up at the ceiling, and he must’ve ended up dozing off because the next time he blinks opens his eyes, the sky is significantly darker than it was before.
Junhwe has just sat up in his bed when there’s another light knock on his bedroom door. This time, he answers before Jinhwan can speak. “Yeah, hyung.”
The door opens to reveal Jinhwan, who pokes his head into the room.
“You can come in, hyung,” Junhwe says gently.
The robot pushes the door open wider, and Junhwe watches as Jinhwan walks into the room with a cup in one hand and a plate in the other.
“What’s this, hyung?” Junhwe asks, voice slightly scratchy from sleep.
“Coffee, almond cookies and Tylenol pills,” Jinhwan replies, handing Junhwe the cup. “You seemed very upset when you first got back, and you also looked really tired. So I did some research, and the Internet suggested that you might be having a headache? Then I read that coffee and almonds are foods proven to help relieve headaches, and that people take Tylenol when they are having headaches, too. I apologise that this is all I can do, but I hope it helps a little.”
Junhwe is dumbfounded as he watches Jinhwan speak, and the robot looks slightly embarrassed as he takes the two Tylenol pills from the plate and offers them to Junhwe. Junhwe swallows the pills wordlessly, takes a long sip of the hot coffee, then pops a cookie into his mouth. Jinhwan looks part-relieved, part-satisfied after Junhwe does this, then he’s smiling a small smile at Junhwe as he moves to leave the room.
“Hyung.”
Jinhwan stops, turning back around with a mildly-confused expression on his face when Junhwe curls his fingers lightly around his wrist.
“Thank you.”
Junhwe watches the way the robot’s eyes widen slightly at his tone: soft, sincere and certainly rare, coming from Junhwe. “I’m sorry I ignored you just now. I was frustrated, and I didn’t want to take my anger out on you - god knows I have a tendency to do that,” Junhwe admits, and he knows it’s true, considering how many times Donghyuk has nagged at him before to stop misdirecting your anger. “Stop belittling the things you do for me, hyung - the feeling I’m trying to convey to you right now is simple, genuine gratitude.”
Jinhwan looks a little taken aback, and Junhwe’s lips twitch in the hints of an affectionate smile when the robot finally nods, then goes, “Understood.”
There’s a pause, and then, as Junhwe had expected, “You’re welcome, June-yah,” Jinhwan adds softly, ducking his head just a little.
(And Junhwe wonders idly how Jinhwan would look like if the robot were able to blush.)
Junhwe only half-consciously brushes his thumb over the soft, synthetic skin at Jinhwan’s wrist, and both he and Jinhwan are more than a little surprised when the robot shivers slightly at his touch.
“Hyung,” Junhwe says quietly. “I’ll go take a shower, then do you - would you like to move your charging station here?”
Jinhwan’s eyes widen for a moment, but then he nods, biting down on his lower lip. Junhwe doesn’t know if the action is unconscious or if the robot picked it up by observing, but all the same, it makes Junhwe’s chest tighten.
A short while later, Junhwe finds himself pushing the plug of Jinhwan’s charging wire into the socket by his bed before moving back a little to make space for the robot. Junhwe lies down on one of the pillows then looks up at Jinhwan, smiling encouragingly.
“You can lie down, hyung,” Junhwe says softly.
The robot appears to be nervous, movements slow and hesitant as he settles onto his left side so as to not get his charging cord tangled up. Junhwe reaches for the blanket, pulling it up till it covers the charging station receptacle at the small of Jinhwan’s back. Junhwe rolls onto his right side when he lies back down, and if he just stared at Jinhwan like this, the orange cord hidden from sight, he could possibly fool himself into believing that Jinhwan was human.
“You forgot to turn on the power, June-yah,” Jinhwan mumbles, his voice beginning to slur.
“I’ll turn it on, hyung, don’t worry,” Junhwe reassures the robot gently.
A soft silence falls upon them as Jinhwan’s mental processes start to slow, preparing the robot to enter sleep mode. Junhwe watches as Jinhwan begins to take long, drawn-out blinks, and soon enough, the robot’s eyes finally close.
Junhwe removes his left hand from beneath the blanket, bringing it up to rest his palm lightly against Jinhwan’s cheek. The moonlight shining in through Junhwe’s bedroom window casts a soft glow around Jinhwan’s head, and Junhwe swallows thickly as he brushes the synthetic strands of Jinhwan’s bronze hair away from his closed eyes.
“I didn’t forget about the power, hyung,” Junhwe whispers, brushing his thumb over Jinhwan’s cheek. His heart throbs a little at the feeling of Jinhwan’s cold, synthetic skin. “I just have no idea how to explain all this to you.”
Then Junhwe closes his eyes, presses a tender kiss to Jinhwan’s forehead, and he reaches over the robot’s small body to flick on the switch before finally going to sleep.
KDH-27
LOG ENTRY > KOO JUNHWE #173
TIME 08:02
Jinhwan could sense my frustration and exhaustion after I came home from work, last night. He let me be when I needed to be alone, then he tried to help me get rid of my headache. He was honestly able to read my mood - Dong, really, I think your programme’s going to turn out amazing.
Junhwe doesn’t log about the kiss.
A few weeks later, Junhwe’s flipping through a stack of binders on his desk in the lab when he suddenly lets out a loud, frustrated groan: the one binder he needs for his meeting in a couple of hours is not there.
So Junhwe hastily fishes for his phone in his bag, pulling the device out and keying in his home number before pressing the green call button.
There’s the sound of the dial tone for a few seconds, and then a voice.
“Hello?”
“Jinhwan-hyung,” Junhwe greets.
“June-yah? Is everything okay?” The robot asks, an edge of worry in his tone that causes Junhwe’s lips to quirk upwards a little.
“Everything’s fine, hyung. I just need you to do me a favour,” Junhwe pauses, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “On my desk, in the study room, there’s a pretty thick binder with a red spine - can you see it?”
“Yes.”
Junhwe sighs in relief. “Okay, great. Could you take the subway down to the lab and pass the binder to me? I need it for a meeting later.”
“Understood.”
And that’s how Junhwe finds himself looking up from his monitor screen about an hour later, a soft smile etched on his face as Jinhwan enters the lab and heads for his desk.
“Thanks, hyung, you’re a lifesaver,” Junhwe groans in appreciation when Jinhwan hands him the binder. Jinhwan laughs, the fondly-exasperated smile that Junhwe has come to recognise is reserved for him alone stretching across the robot’s face as he pats Junhwe’s cheek twice, then drops his hand.
“I got you coffee, by the way,” Jinhwan says, placing a paper cup down onto Junhwe’s desk.
Junhwe feels his heart warm. “Thanks, hyung,” he murmurs softly, then peers into the brown paper bag. “You got me two cups?”
The robot’s lips curve into a small, embarrassed smile. “I apologise, June-yah. The other cup is actually for Chanwoo.”
Junhwe feels like someone just emptied a pail of ice water over his head, because, “Chanwoo?”
Chanwoo pauses when he hears his name, stopping next to them on his way back to his desk. “Yes…?”
Jinhwan offers him an amiable smile. “Good afternoon, Chanwoo. I got you coffee.”
Chanwoo’s eyes widen a little in surprise as he accepts the paper cup from Jinhwan. “Oh,” he says intelligently, staring at the cup for a moment. “Thank you, Jinhwan-hyung. Where did you get this from?”
“The cafe outside the subway station,” the robot replies, then casts Junhwe a sheepish look. “I used the emergency money you left on the kitchen island, June-yah. I hope that is all right with you.”
Chanwoo grins as he takes his first sip of the coffee. “The fact that Junhwe-hyung’s money was used to pay for this coffee makes it taste so much better,” he says, then smiles gratefully at Jinhwan. “Thanks again, hyung.”
After Chanwoo walks back to his desk, Jinhwan turns to face Junhwe proper. The robot is doing that lip-biting thing again, the one that is not good for Junhwe’s sanity. “I hope you are not mad, June-yah. I just wanted to do something nice.”
Junhwe sighs, moving his coffee cup away so the robot has space to perch himself on his desk again. “I’m not mad, hyung,” Junhwe says, and he really isn’t, because as much as Junhwe thinks Chanwoo is an idiot who needs to know his place in the world, both Junhwe and Donghyuk have independently spoken to their supervisors about how the boy is a talent in digital and precision engineering and the lab could use someone like him. “We kick him around too much, anyway. So thanks for doing this.”
Junhwe grins back gently at the relieved smile Jinhwan sends his way, then he looks into the bag again. “Who’s this for?” Junhwe asks, referring to the small brown paper bag inside.
“Yunhyeong,” Jinhwan replies, just as Bobby, Donghyuk and Yunhyeong re-enter the lab, back from their late lunch break. Jinhwan hops off Junhwe’s desk just as Yunhyeong settles into his seat, the hardware engineer blinking in slight confusion when Jinhwan hands him the brown paper bag.
“Thirty-six-hour shift, I heard,” the robot says empathetically, and Yunhyeong opens the paper bag to reveal the bagel inside. Donghyuk’s grin is so wide and so proud it looks like it could split his face in half.
“Thank you, really,” Yunhyeong says to Jinhwan, but before Jinhwan can so much as offer a response, Bobby is slinging a casual arm around the robot’s shoulders, grinning broadly. Junhwe stares at Bobby’s arm as though it has managed to personally offend him. (It has, he insists.)
“Drinks tonight, guys,” Bobby says enthusiastically. “It’s Friday, we haven’t gone out for a while, and it’ll be our first time with Jinan-hyung!”
“Jinan-hyung - ” Junhwe chokes at the nickname, sending Jinhwan a mildly-alarmed look.
“You’re treating, right?” Hanbin pipes up from the receptionist’s desk.
Bobby’s broad grin wavers. “Fine,” he relents eventually. “One round. Because unlike the rest of you, I have a benevolent soul.”
“No,” Yunhyeong disagrees, taking a bite of his bagel. “It’s because if you don’t treat, you know none of us will come.”
Donghyuk laughs at the crestfallen expression on Bobby’s face, leaning against Junhwe’s desk and taking a sip of his coffee. “Friendship,” Donghyuk says to Jinhwan, a sunny smile on his face even as Junhwe glares at him, hard. “Truly one of the most beautiful things about being human.”
The bar that they go to in Gangnam is just crowded and loud enough to suit Junhwe’s tastes.
Jinhwan looks a little overwhelmed when they first step inside, the visual recognition sensors in his eyes working to absorb the dim lighting and unfamiliar surroundings. Junhwe watches the robot as he looks around, keeping him close even as the seven of them jam into an empty booth.
“You okay, hyung?” Junhwe asks Jinhwan, leaning in close so the robot can better hear him.
Jinhwan nods, lips curving into a little smile meant for Junhwe alone as he pats his knee reassuringly a couple of times. Bobby gets up then, resting a hand on the oak table.
“Shots all around?” He asks, and everyone nods their agreement.
“Jinan-hyung, wanna come with?” Bobby asks the robot with a smile, who nods and follows after him.
“Donghyuk-hyung,” Chanwoo voices suddenly, and the remaining four people at the table turn to look at him. “If the beta-testing turns out successful and the lab lets us run the programme, will - will we be able to keep Jinhwan-hyung around?”
Junhwe tenses a little. After working at the lab for almost two years, now, he knows that robots that undergo beta-testing without malfunctioning halfway through are either allowed to continue running their programmes, if not then they’re shut-down, and a new series of robots will be designed to run the programme before being released to the public.
Chanwoo’s question is legitimate, but just not something that Junhwe wants to think about.
“You know that’s not a decision that can be made by me, Chanwoo-yah,” Donghyuk answers, then pauses. “Why do you ask?”
Chanwoo shrugs, but the smile on his face is teasing, yet sincere. “I guess it’s just very hard not to like someone who’s willing to stand with you at the copier machine for two hours while you both scan seven years’ worth of lab reports, especially not if that same person turns up with coffee and makes you feel, for once, like something other than cheap labour.”
Everyone laughs, even Junhwe, whose lips pull up into his signature half-smirk. Yunhyeong makes exaggerated cooing noises and grabs Chanwoo in a headlock just as Bobby and Jinhwan return with the shots. Jinhwan doesn’t have a drink, of course, but Junhwe makes it a point to wrap a warm arm around the robot’s shoulders and pull him into the circle when they toast.
Jinhwan’s eyes are bright, his smile is illuminated by the orange lighting of the bar, and Junhwe’s heart races.
Everyone loosens up as the night gets deeper: top buttons of crisp work shirts get undone, cheeks get flushed and laughter gets louder as they consume more drinks all around. Junhwe keeps one arm around Jinhwan for most of the night, occasionally glancing down at the robot to make sure he isn’t feeling too overwhelmed in the unfamiliar and slightly noisy environment. But Jinhwan is always ready to reassure him with small, grateful smiles and almost-absentminded pats to his thigh, and Junhwe allows himself to indulge in the concerned looks the robot sends his way and the worried touches to his cheek as Junhwe continues to down more alcohol throughout the night.
Junhwe had thought that no one was paying attention to them at first, to the way Junhwe was almost unconsciously protective of Jinhwan and the way Jinhwan was almost unconsciously fussing over Junhwe, but then Junhwe catches Yunhyeong’s gaze on them just as Jinhwan is pressing the back of his hand to Junhwe’s flushed cheek.
Yunhyeong raises his brows, gaze inquisitive yet still managing to come off as knowing. Junhwe does his best to glare a hole straight into Yunhyeong, but this only results in Yunhyeong arranging his face into some kind of pleasant smile as Junhwe starts to glare at him harder.
Bobby and Yunhyeong decide to play wingmen at one point into the night, dragging Hanbin and Chanwoo out of the booth and forcefully shoving them towards the bar. Junhwe also can’t exactly remember when he and Donghyuk had started sitting so close, but suddenly Junhwe’s got a hand on Donghyuk’s thigh and Donghyuk’s got his head buried in Junhwe’s neck as they laugh at their co-workers at the bar, and Junhwe is just about tipsy enough to make some poor life choices and not regret them till morning comes.
It’s when Donghyuk lifts his head as Junhwe begins to trail his hand higher up his thigh that Junhwe hears a voice coming from over his shoulder.
“June-yah?” It’s Jinhwan, of course, and the robot sounds hesitant. “You are intoxicated. Please do not make rash decisions.”
Junhwe stills for a moment, but he blames it on the alcohol when he feels a rush of adrenaline flood through his system as he moves closer to Donghyuk, a twisted part of him wanting to see just how far he can push the robot.
“June-yah,” Jinhwan calls again, and he sounds a little more desperate, this time. “You are intoxicated. I would strongly advise against making any rash decisions.”
The air around them begins to charge with tension when Donghyuk’s pupils dilate and his lips part open just a little, and Junhwe’s heartbeat is roaring in his ears as he makes no move to pull away.
But then a small hand wraps around his bicep, and this time, Jinhwan’s voice is insistent. “Junhwe, you are intoxicated - ”
“Fine,” Junhwe hisses, finally moving away from Donghyuk and pushing a rough hand through his hair. He shakes off Jinhwan’s grip, then gestures pointedly at the exit. “Let’s go,” he says, and his voice is edgy and irritated.
The cab ride back to the apartment is tense and uncomfortable, the silence so thick you could slice through it with a knife. Junhwe glares out the window the entire ride back, his head throbbing and his heart a mess.
Junhwe jabs his passcode into the lock violently, slamming open the door and stepping across the threshold without bothering to check if Jinhwan is following behind. He's just managed to kick off his shoes and make his way down the hall when he's stopped by the sound of Jinhwan’s voice, soft, tentative and more than a little fearful.
“I apologise, June-yah.”
And of course that only manages to make Junhwe even more annoyed, because Jinhwan didn't even do anything wrong. Junhwe has never been one to back down from a challenge once he's gotten riled up, always aware of what to say to make others hurt and eager to feel that sweet sense of vindication after he knows he's won.
But Junhwe has also never liked fighting with people who don't fight back.
“Why did you do it?” Junhwe asks, tone flat.
“I apologise, I do not understand what you are - ”
Junhwe whirls around, and the movement combined with the pounding in his head nearly causes him to stumble. “Why did you stop me? Just now - why did you stop me from kissing Donghyuk?”
The robot blinks once, his brows furrowing a little. “I told you, June-yah. You were intoxicated, and research shows that intoxicated people do not always make rational decisions.”
“No,” Junhwe blurts, the words tumbling out before he can think them through. “No. That can’t - that can’t just be it. You tried to stop me thrice, hyung. Why - ” Junhwe’s voice cracks, so he stops, then tries again. “Why did you do it?”
Please, Junhwe thinks, searching the robot’s eyes desperately. Please just tell me that you didn’t like the idea of me and Donghyuk kissing, that maybe you were jea-
“Junhwe,” Jinhwan begins slowly, and no, Junhwe thinks brokenly, because the robot’s voice is part-confused, part-patient, and Junhwe hates it. “I do not know what you would like me to say. You were intoxicated, and you could have ended up doing something rash.”
Silence, and then it’s like all the fight leaves Junhwe’s body at once, the light in his eyes dying and his heart going cold.
“That’s it, then?”
Jinhwan looks taken aback at the sudden defeated tone of Junhwe’s voice, the exhaustion in his eyes. “June-yah,” the robot says softly, and it hurts. “I apologise, but I do not understand.”
And it’s only then when Junhwe realises how stupid it was of him to go falling for Jinhwan, because Junhwe might be able to ignore the fact that Jinhwan’s skin is never warm, might be able to cover up Jinhwan’s charging station receptacle and fool himself into believing that Jinhwan is just as human as he is, but waiting for Jinhwan to tell him that he may just like him is like waiting for a train that will never come.
So Junhwe takes a deep, shuddering breath, pushes his hair out of his eyes and then lets his hand fall limply to the side. “Forget it,” he mumbles, suddenly so, so tired. “Good night, hyung.”
Junhwe turns, walks to his bedroom, and misses the sadness that creeps into Jinhwan’s eyes.
Junhwe doesn’t log about that day.
Weeks pass, and they move on.
Their routine never really changes. Sometimes they go out for meals (in which only Junhwe does the eating, but they talk and they laugh over their own inside jokes and it’s so easy), sometimes they go catch a movie, but a majority of their time together is still spent inside the apartment when Junhwe isn’t at work, and Junhwe isn’t complaining, and neither is Jinhwan.
Call him a masochist, but Junhwe had made the decision to allow himself to indulge in the robot’s fondness towards him, in the way Jinhwan cares for him and fits himself so easily into the empty spaces in Junhwe’s life, because who knows? The lab may very well shut Jinhwan down after his beta-testing period is up, and Junhwe would’ve been agonising for nothing. Alternatively, if the lab does allow Jinhwan to continue running the programme, well - Junhwe can decide then whether he would like Jinhwan to continue being his robotic companion or not.
Junhwe will get over Jinhwan, will not allow himself the pain of liking a being who couldn’t possibly like him back. He’ll love Jinhwan as a companion, a friend, a hyung, but no more than that.
(People always did say that saying is one thing, but believing is another.)
The night in which everything changes starts like any other.
It’s a Saturday night, which means that Jinhwan and Junhwe had gone out for a late dinner instead of eating in the apartment like they do during the weekdays. They had gone to a bibimbap place not too far from the apartment complex, where Jinhwan had chuckled at how fast Junhwe had scarfed down his food before tossing some napkins at him, because there’s gochujang on your chin, June-yah.
The walk back to the apartment complex is slow and comfortable, Jinhwan hiding his laughter behind his palm as Junhwe complains about his supervisors and gossips about his co-workers. The night wind is cool, the streets are quiet, and everything is normal.
Perhaps if Junhwe were a little more alert, he might’ve been able to stop it before it happened.
They’re walking past an alley when Junhwe hears footsteps behind him, too sudden and much too close for comfort. He spins around quickly, but not quickly enough: a hand curls around his jacket-covered arm, yanks harshly and Junhwe stumbles, his heart leaping into his throat.
“Hand over your wallet and your phone,” comes a low voice into Junhwe’s ear. Junhwe struggles on instinct alone, trying to wrench his arm free of the tight grip around his bicep, but all that earns him is that very same arm moving up to grab him around the neck and something sharp jabbing into his side. Junhwe’s heart starts to pound in his chest as the first feelings of panic begin to set in, because Jinhwan, Junhwe thinks frantically, Jinhwan -
“Stop struggling,” his attacker hisses dangerously. “And you - ”
Junhwe’s blood runs cold at the sight of Jinhwan being held in a similar position as him, a hooded figure pressed up against his back. “Hand over your wallet, or this guy gets it,” Junhwe’s attacker spits at Jinhwan.
“He’s a robot,” Junhwe manages to choke out. “He doesn’t have money.”
Junhwe goes rigid when the arm around his neck tightens. “Untrue. Robots always carry the money these days.”
“Look,” Junhwe says desperately, trying to keep his voice steady and even. “We don’t have anything - fuck,” Junhwe hisses, face twisting when the sharp object digs deeper into his side.
“Don’t fucking lie to me - ”
Junhwe’s attacker doesn’t get any further than that, too busy threatening Junhwe to notice the flash of movement in front of them. The attacker’s arm is ripped away from Junhwe’s neck in the next second, and the sharp object (a knife, Junhwe realises now) in his other hand goes clattering onto the sidewalk.
Junhwe’s attacker drops to his knees just as Jinhwan curls his fingers around his arm, intending to pull him to his feet. Jinhwan yanks, the attacker trips forward, but by the time Junhwe notices the flash of the blade in the dim moonlight, it’s already too late: Junhwe’s attacker lets out a shout, then plunges the knife into Jinhwan’s abdomen.
Both Junhwe’s and Jinhwan’s eyes widen simultaneously when sparks flash from Jinhwan’s stomach with a loud, hissing crackle. The attacker curses, recoiling, and he seems to realise that attempting to mug a robot is costing him more trouble than what it’s worth, so he hauls the other attacker up (Junhwe hadn’t even spared a glance at him, but he assumes he must’ve knocked his head against the concrete wall when Jinhwan shoved him off of him just now) before tripping out of the alley.
“Hyung,” Junhwe chokes, stumbling over to Jinhwan and gripping the robot by his arms. Jinhwan is still standing but his eyes are confused, and white-hot panic seizes Junhwe’s heart when Jinhwan’s eyes suddenly show their first signs of glitching.
“Hyung, please, don’t,” Junhwe whispers brokenly, carefully moving Jinhwan over to the wall so he can lean up against it as Junhwe dashes back out into the street in frantic search for a cab. Thankfully one pulls up a few minutes later, and Junhwe doesn’t even think twice before he’s scooping Jinhwan up into his arms and sliding into the cab, barely remembering to eke out South Korea Robotics Laboratory before the cab is speeding off into the night.
Junhwe feels utterly helpless as sparks continue to flash from the hole in Jinhwan’s abdomen, the knife that had torn through his synthetic skin managing to cut through the complicated network of wires inside him and cause multiple instrument cable breaks. Junhwe chokes on air when Jinhwan starts glitching in his arms, fumbling for his phone and calling up Yunhyeong and Donghyuk in a panic to please just come down to the lab now, Jinhwan-hyung is short-circuiting and we need to fix him, please -
“June-yah.”
Junhwe’s gaze snaps to Jinhwan at the sound of the robot’s voice, hoarse and mechanical and devoid of its usual warmth.
“Your heart is beating too fast - you are panicking,” Jinhwan informs him. “Please, calm down.”
“Calm down - hyung, you’re - you’re - ”
Warning: a problem with the cooling system has been detected.
“No, hyung - ” Junhwe chokes, the automated, emotionless voice of Jinhwan’s programme only causing the panic within him to build. “Hyung, why - why the fuck did you do that?” Junhwe asks desperately, the fear he’s feeling causing the expletive to slip out unknowingly. “I could’ve just given him my wallet - it’s not worth - ”
“He was hurting you, June-yah,” Jinhwan cuts in, and this is the first time since Junhwe’s started beta-testing Jinhwan that the robot has ever interrupted him. More sparks flash from Jinhwan’s abdomen, but the robot manages a small smile.
“And we always make sure that the people we love don’t ever come to harm.”
Junhwe freezes, remembering the very night he had said those words to Jinhwan on the couch in his living room. Jinhwan hadn’t responded to him then, and Junhwe had taken it that the robot’s programme wasn’t able to process what he was saying, but now -
“Hyung,” Junhwe chokes, and his throat feels too tight and his heart feels as though it’s about to leap out of his chest, but Junhwe knows he needs to say this now, before it’s really too late. “Jinhwan-hyung, I - I love you.”
And Jinhwan smiles, his eyes curving into crescents and his lips pulled high enough to reveal his teeth, and Junhwe’s heartbeat finally relaxes because he knows what he’s said is true.
“June-yah,” Jinhwan whispers, and Junhwe tightens his hold around the robot when he glitches in his arms again. Jinhwan manages to lift his left hand, resting his small palm delicately against Junhwe’s cheek, and the robot smiles softly when Junhwe leans into the touch. “I think I love you too.”
A final series of sparks flash from the damaged cables in Jinhwan’s stomach, the robot glitches one last time, his eyes slide shut, and then he goes perfectly still.
And Junhwe cries.
“Junhwe.”
Junhwe doesn’t bother looking up at the sound of his name, recognising Donghyuk’s voice and knowing that his friend will just come up to him, anyway. True enough, he hears the sound of Donghyuk’s footsteps approaching before the brown-haired software engineer is standing right next to Junhwe, mimicking his pose and resting his forearms against the railing.
They’re on the rooftop of the lab, the place where Junhwe has spent a majority of the past twenty-seven-odd hours staring into the distance and trying to ignore the stinging in his eyes and the hollowness in his chest. Yunhyeong and Donghyuk had arrived at the lab just slightly after Junhwe did, had taken one look at Jinhwan broken in his arms and the sheer anguish on Junhwe’s face before slipping into their blue lab coats and getting to work immediately.
They’ve been working non-stop since then, running on adrenaline and determination and more than a few shots of espresso to try and fix Jinhwan, but as Junhwe turns his head to look at Donghyuk’s face, he supposes they’ve finally finished.
Donghyuk looks a little worse for wear: there are the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes and his brown hair is messy, not carefully styled like it usually is. He regards Junhwe for a moment before opening his mouth, but Junhwe beats him to it.
“Did you manage to bring him back?”
Junhwe’s voice is hoarse, scratchy - unfamiliar even to his own ears.
Donghyuk is silent for a moment. “Yunhyeong-hyung managed to repair most of the hardware: he fixed the damaged instrument cables, and replaced the computer fans and heatsinks. You saw Bobby-hyung just now, right?” Junhwe nods once, and Donghyuk continues. “Yeah. He patched Jinhwan-hyung up and gave him some new synthetic skin for the area that got torn.”
Junhwe turns his gaze back towards the skyline, worry and despair still threatening to consume him from the inside because Donghyuk has yet to answer the most important question, to really tell Junhwe what he wants to know.
“We managed to extract his central processing unit,” Donghyuk continues after a moment, and Junhwe hates the traitorous feeling of hope that flickers in his chest. “It was - it was damaged, Junhwe,” Donghyuk finally says, and Junhwe feels himself go completely rigid. “I - we repaired it, but his memory management unit - ”
“What, Donghyuk?” Junhwe interrupts flatly, and he feels so tired, so defeated. “Just - tell me.”
Donghyuk pushes a hand through his hair, takes a breath, then speaks. “I salvaged most of his hard disk, but I don’t know how effective the system restore will be: he might just return to what he was before the incident, he might be better, or he might - ”
Donghyuk exhales shakily, and the look in his eyes is apologetic.
“He might not remember anything at all.”
Junhwe taps his access card against the sensor, pushes open the glass door, and is taken back to how it all began.
WORKING LAB 3 is empty and silent, save for the soft humming of the air conditioning, the occasional beeps coming from some of the monitors, and Junhwe’s footsteps against the linoleum tiles as he ventures further into the room.
Tap, tap, and then he stops.
Junhwe is hit with an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu as he stares at Jinhwan standing before him. The robot looks as good as new, almost exactly like how he did when Junhwe first saw him, except for the fact that his clothes are different, now. Jinhwan’s eyes are closed, his synthetic bronze hair is falling across his forehead, and his head is bowed, just a little.
If Junhwe didn’t know any better, it’d be like nothing ever happened to Jinhwan in the first place.
Junhwe’s throat feels impossibly tight as he repeats his motions from months ago, sliding a finger under Jinhwan’s thin wrist to gingerly lift his limp arm. This time, though, Junhwe can’t stop himself from dragging his thumb gently over the knob on Jinhwan’s wrist, remembering the night he had done this in his room and the way Jinhwan had shivered at his touch.
Junhwe swallows thickly, knowing that he can’t keep putting off the inevitable. So he sets Jinhwan’s arm carefully back down against his side, slides his left arm around the robot’s waist, slips a finger under his black sweater and presses the cold, metallic power button once.
There’s the familiar soft hum of the machinery warming up, followed by Jinhwan reciting South Korea Robotics Laboratory in an automated, emotionless voice, so unlike the fond and gentle tone that Junhwe has grown used to. Then Jinhwan briefly runs through a list of his specs, stops, and finally, he opens his eyes.
Please, Junhwe begs, watching desperately as Jinhwan stares blankly ahead, and his central processing unit begins to whir. Please.
A pause. Junhwe’s heart is in his throat.
“Input user credentials, please.”
And Junhwe’s heart shatters.
Junhwe just stands there for a long moment, feeling absolutely helpless and empty inside. Eventually, though, he exhales shakily, lifting a hand to gently card through the synthetic strands of Jinhwan’s bronze hair before resting his palm lightly against the robot’s cheek.
And Junhwe allows himself this one last moment before he walks out of the room for good.
“Thank you, hyung,” Junhwe whispers, even though Jinhwan can’t actually hear him. “For everything.”
Junhwe closes his eyes, drops a tender kiss to the top of Jinhwan’s head, then takes a step back and breathes.
“Nevermind, then,” Junhwe mumbles to the robot, who’s still staring straight ahead. “Standby mode.”
With that, Junhwe turns, his chest feeling oddly numb even as he begins walking back towards the glass door.
Tap, tap, tap.
And then, a voice.
“Junhwe?”