Yifan didn't think much of it at first.

It seemed innocent enough, the way Zitao would stand stock-still in front of the hall mirror everyday, frozen like his reflection had him petrified.

Every now and again Yifan would see him raise a hand to the glass, the unnatural sheen of his silicone skin flexing over his knuckles as he traced the reflection of his jaw, nose, the fake plastic teeth in his mouth or the metallic plates of his chest.

Yifan figured it must just be normal, it must be strange for an android to see themselves in a mirror when they technically had no way of knowing they were a tangible being once the reflection was gone.

It wasn't really until Zitao started asking questions that Yifan figured something was wrong.

It was slightly jarring the first time Zitao marched up to Yifan and posed the question; "Yifan, do I look acceptable?"

Yifan looked up from his computer screen, round glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he cocked a brow in the direction of his android,

"What?"

Zitao seemed to shift uncomfortably, but his face remained completely emotionless. He raised a hand, motioning down himself, and Yifan could see all the little wires and joints in his system bending and swivelling with the movement through Zitao's translucent skin.

"My appearance. Is it acceptable?"

Yifan blinked at him like a dumb sparrow, mouth hanging slightly open as he gave Zitao a quick once-over.

He looked the same as ever, metallic silver lines running down his legs and arms, the metal casing of his chest, the metallic joints in his elbows and toes and the sculpt of his face. He wasn't dirty, his skin hadn't been torn anywhere, he looked exactly the same as he had when he'd first been delivered to Yifan's door.

"Um. Yeah."

That seemed to satisfy Zitao, atleast, his lips quirking into an uncanny smile before he turned and walked away, picking up Yifan's dirty clothes as he went, and throwing them with an eerie accuracy into the wash basket across the other side of Yifan's apartment.

Well then.

____

"...Zitao, what on earth happened here?"

Yifan had just arrived back from his last lecture of the day, he had hoped to open the door to his pristine apartment, with Zitao standing in the centre, hands folded over his lap as he welcomed him home. Instead, upon opening the door, there were clothes strewn about all over the place. Over the couch, in the fruit bowl, even on top of Yifan's bookcase, and no Zitao to be seen.

The sound of a dull thunk from the bedroom alerted Yifan to the other's whereabouts, though, and called out once more. "Zitao? There better be a good reason for this--"

Zitao burst suddenly out of Yifan's bedroom, and  it was all Yifan could do to hold in a laugh at the android's appearance.

Zitao's head and one of his arms had somehow fit through the arm hole of one of Yifan's old t-shirts, and there's a scarf wrapped around Zitao's thigh that Yifan hasn't seen for years, along with odd socks that Zitao had only just managed to slip on properly.

"Zitao, what is all this?"

Zitao seemed to simper nervously, shrinking in on himself a little as if he felt ashamed. "You are home early."
Yifan snorts. "No . Don't avoid the question though, okay? Now, tell me, please, why half my wardrobe is currently in the living room and why you look like you just walked out of a laundromat explosion?"

Zitao seemed to balk at that, the black of his eyes widening just as a pupil would, and his voice even held a little waver of upset behind the usual synthetic tang. "You don't think I look like a boy?"

Yifan's brows practically flew up into his hairline. "Huh?"

Zitao's face held an eerie set of emotions upon it, seeming to filter through hurt and sadness and slight betrayal before once again returning to that stoic, manufactured stiffness that he seemed to always have. It puzzled Yifan, and Zitao let out a whirring sigh, tugging the clothing off of himself and shaking his head. "Nevermind, Yifan. I am sorry for the mess. I shall have it cleared up."

Yifan still stared at him like he'd seen a ghost, brow cocked and lip raised in confusion. "...Okay."

___

Yifan sat on the sofa, hunched over his laptop on the coffee table, a cup of tea perched precariously on the arm of the sofa when he felt a weight beside him. It was Zitao, of course, sat stock-still and looking almost proud, he's still wearing the clothes that he'd practically begged

Yifan to dress him in that morning, and his eyes are trained on the television Yifan had only really put on for background noise. It's just a weather report, but Zitao seems enthralled anyhow.

He goes back to typing, He only had the rest of the evening to finish up an essay for tomorrow, and he had been cursing himself since the morning for leaving it until so late, but it had just slipped his mind. He doesn't understand why an engineering and computer technology student should have to write essays instead of getting into a workshop or setting up in the computer labs, anyhow.

He stops typing after a moment, brows furrowing. It feels an awful lot like someone is burning holes into the side of his skull, and one quick glance from the corner of his eyes gifts him with the knowledge that Zitao has finally torn his gaze away from the TV, and is instead staring at

Yifan with that emotionless expression that Yifan so wishes was not his apparent default.

He turns his head, chancing a proper look at Zitao. "..Why are you staring?"

Zitao blinks then, Yifan hears the quiet whirr of Zitao's lips pulling into a little smile.

"You're very handsome."

Yifan simply gapes at him for about a minute, eyes slightly wide before he barks a laugh and slaps his knee. Zitao looks at him like he's grown a second head.

"Was that funny, Yifan? I was simply complimenting you.."

Yifan shakes his head, residual chuckles still juddering in his chest as he looks to Zitao, grinning with mirth. "No, no, you just kinda took me by surprise. I didn't... Y'know, I didn't think you could say things like that out of turn?"

Zitao's head tilts. "Because I'm not human?"

Yifan nods. "Yeah, I guess."

That was the first time since Yifan had bought Zitao that he'd ever seen the android look thoroughly offended.

____

"Are you ever gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Zitao turns and blinks confusedly at Yifan. It's been about three months since he first started acting oddly, two months since Yifan had to buy a second wardrobe for all the clothing that Zitao now owned. Said android was currently in the kitchen, a half-apron tied around his waist and a beanie over his synthetic hair as he slaves over whatever he might be cooking for Yifan today.

"Nothing's wrong, Yifan. I'm fine. Why do you ask?" He turns back to the skillet, turning over a thick slab of steak that Yifan would be salivating over if it weren't for their current conversation.

"You've been acting weird. You keep staring at me, and, I mean... Zitao, you're wearing clothes." Yifan motions him up and down with a hand. Zitao sighs, placing down his spatula and untying his apron to lay it on the countertop.

"Isn't that what people do?"

"What?"

Zitao groans, it crackles a little, his voice processor unfamiliar with the noise. "Isn't that what people do, Yifan? They wear clothes. They appreciate others, they have skin, and hair that grows, and warmth, and real emotions, not metal and wires and fabricated ones.." As if to prove a point, Zitao's entire expression seems to brighten, and he smiles, looking far too happy. "Humans are so beautiful, aren't they, Yifan?"

Yifan is taken aback, he looks at Zitao with a surprised expression, unable to really come up with a response. He and Zitao simply look at each other in silence, Zitao with his endlessly programmed patience and Yifan with his voice stuck in his throat.

"I- Zitao, what are you saying?" Yifan just about manages to stop himself from stuttering.

Zitao shakes his head, turning back to the stove, his expression once again pinched with hurt. "Nevermind, Yifan. Dinner will be ready soon."
____

It's a lazy day for Yifan. He lays on his couch with a bowl of popcorn on his tummy whilst some old movie from the 80's plays on the TV. He's only half watching, the other half of his attention is on the back of Zitao's head, where the android sits on the floor beside the couch, posture as straight and polite as ever.

Yifan smiles. Zitao's been overly concious of his looks in general in the last few months, but ever since Yifan had started to drop in little compliments, he's been more relaxed, more comfortable in his synthetic skin.

"You look good." He'd say as he wraps a scarf around Zitao's neck before they go out to get groceries.

"It suits you." He'd say as Zitao tries on a sweater at their local clothing store.

Zitao would always smile at him, and Yifan would smile back. He'd been treating Zitao less and less like an android, and more like a person. He'd help Zitao with chores, with cooking (although admittedly, Yifan would often be sent out of the kitchen after yet again burning something), He'd help Zitao get dressed in the mornings until Zitao was finally able to dress himself, able to pick out what looked good on him.  He'd compliment Zitao, pat him on the back, invite him to play video games and then gawk as the other completely thrashed him, take him out to dinner and even out to see movies.

If anything, Zitao's little period self-conciousness was kind of a blessing. They'd grown closer, Yifan was more comfortable with Zitao, it certainly seemed like Zitao was happier. Android or not, he was now more human than many people Yifan had come across in his time.
He sighs contentedly, the bowl on his belly rising and falling with it, and Zitao turns to him questioningly.

"Are you alright, Yifan?"

Yifan nods, reaching out and lightly trailing his fingers along Zitao's jawline. "You're beautiful, Zitao."

Zitao blinks, seemingly taken aback. "Really? You think I look acceptable?"

Yifan chuckles, moving his hand up to ruffle Zitao's hair.

"Yeah, Zitao. You're the loveliest boy I've ever seen."

an: haha tadahhh?