“Three…two…one!”

The escape pod explodes rather more abruptly than Kyung had been expecting it to. He supposes that that’s partially the effect of a film industry that has conditioned him to believe that the timer always stops at zero, and partly the fact that he’s never been in an exploding escape pod before.

And when they say ‘exploding escape pod’, they mean that the escape pod explodes. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s entirely possible that, had Kyung not been a robot, the force of the craft ripping apart could have done some serious damage, but he was built for rougher conditions than break-up explosions, and even had the presence of mind to grab the fire extinguisher before it went up in smoke.

It turns out that the primitive clamping devices Kyung was given in lieu of hands are poorly designed to operate fire extinguishers. The shock of the explosion has him pulling on the handle no sooner than the escape pod breaks up, and with no control over the pressure he can exert, he goes flying back towards the main spaceship at quite a pace.

He spots something clean and silver streak past him, blue lights flashing across it’s body with alarm.

“Jaeeeeehyooooooo!” Kyung calls back to the other robot, and pulls his finger off the trigger.

Jaehyo stops dead as soon as Kyung passes him, then turns to follow the trail of foam hanging in the space surrounding them. Even at a distance, the lights that make up his expressions are visible, flashing angry red and worried green.

Kyung wonders that he doesn’t start shouting at him for being so reckless, but remembers that in space they can’t hear each other. Any yelling is for naught.

He turns the nozzle of the extinguisher around and attempts once more to get back to Jaehyo. This time they’re both very much aiming for each other, so when they miss the mark, the blue light of Jaehyo’s motion stream lights up the foam like snowflakes in car headlamps. For a moment, Kyung becomes so caught up in how pretty it looks that he forgets what he’s trying to do.

Which of course means that he fails to unclench his grip over the fire extinguisher handle until it’s way too late, and once again massively overshoots. Jaehyo’s silver carapace blends in with the mighty figure of the ship hanging in the air behind him, but the irritated orange that flashes across his screens is unmistakable. Kyung feels slightly guilty about that, but he snickers to himself nonetheless.

Of course, the sound doesn’t make it to his ears.

Third time’s the charm, and with a little fiddling Kyung works out how to release the fire extinguisher in short, sharp bursts. Slamming his thumb on and off the handle, it’s much slower than the abrupt jet of foam from earlier, but he’s meeting Jaehyo in the middle nonetheless.

Kyung looks up at Jaehyo’s plasma screen face, the perfectly animated eyebrows twisting themselves into a frown of disapproval even as his whole system blushes a happy yellow. It’s impossible not to be happy to see each other, even if Kyung suspects he’s rather given the other robot the run around over the past twenty four hours.

The problem they now face, is that they can’t communicate properly without full use of their voices. Jaehyo can flash messages across his body, but there’s no guarantee that Kyung’s space age programming would be able to interpret it, and lord knows he doesn’t have anything nearly so fancy of his own. He holds up the fire extinguisher nozzle, trying to indicate that he’s ready to go back to the ship.

Jaehyo leans forward, presumably to set Kyung on his shoulders so he can drive them both back. That’s how they’ve always operated, it’s the most streamlined method they have of getting from Point A to Point B.

Only Jaehyo doesn’t put him on his shoulders. He reaches out with his sleek, seamless arms and drags Kyung forward into a rough approximation of a hug. They hit their heads together and the angles they’re able to bend at don’t permit a proper embrace, but even in the cold of space, with their hard metal bodies, it makes Kyung feel warm and giddy.

Sparks crackle across Jaehyo’s face, he leans forward and presses himself into Kyung, till they’re both sparking electricity together. And if a hug is warm, this is piping hot oil ready to lubricate them both back to factory conditions.

Jaehyo pulls away, cheeks flaring pastel pink. He doesn’t smile, but if Kyung could, he would.

The ship is still a long way off. Kyung holds up the fire extinguisher nozzle once again and this time Jaehyo takes the queue, nodding back in the direction he’s come.

Kyung starts off slow, a few gentle squeezes of the handle, before giving up and opening the throttle. He tears off back towards the spaceship, spiraling out of control and loving every moment of it. He looks down and sees Jaehyo hot on his heels, painting the sky blue where he passes. They zip up to the ship and slip over the top, down towards the nose, twirling around each other as they fly through the black.

They flit back down towards the engines, where Jaehyo takes the lead and slips slalom around the exhaust fires. Kyung has to work hard to keep up with him, following the blue through complex flight patterns that he would never dare attempt on his own. It’s not till they even out to fly straight along the side of the ship that he can start to gain ground again, drawing level with Jaehyo to watch the beads of yellow popping over his face before tearing ahead, daring each other to go faster.

And when the fire extinguisher runs out, Jaehyo falls into place, ready to catch Kyung. He’s smiling lightly, and even though he’s been caught he doesn’t mind. Electricity crackles between them, and around them space continues on.