Sang-hyuk the button of his lab coat as he watched T52 huddled despondently on the bed, his back pressed against the wall with his knees tucked firmly under his chin. While they hadn’t initially planned on having Sang-hyuk in charge of the cyborg, drastic measures eventually brought the two together, Sang-hyuk now waiting patiently as T52 took the time to adjust.

T52 had been brought back the same time they grabbed Hak-yeon, immediately taken to see if anything had been damaged. Of course there had been nothing, but regardless of how long Sang-hyuk had worked for them, there was no trust, and precautions had to be taken. The impressions of Hak-yeon on his memories were left unconcerned, nobody giving the cyborg that had been nothing but faulty a second thought when Hak-yeon survived beautifully. Instead they left him in his room with nothing but a simple command to ‘wait’.  

T52’s health deteriorated rapidly, a pace so fast none of them were able to react quickly enough to stop it. His skin withered faster than they were able to replace it, his body decorated in darkened patches once again, his hair falling out as his face grew shallower with every day that passed. T52’s resets had increased, lasting only mere minutes before resetting so violently that most interns were too terrified to even step into the room. This affected the latter’s speech, T52 unable to speak a full sentence before his body ripped his consciousness away, his mind so scrambled he could barely recognize his own voice. Many of the higher-ups assumed he was doing this purposefully, retaliating, but Joon-myeon believed T52 unable to bear grudges, Won-shik even going so far as to wonder if T52’s usefulness was finally coming to an end.

Sang-hyuk refused to believe that, and had offered to try and talk to him. He knew they were looking for any reason to finally shut him down, to get rid of the one slight on an otherwise productive study, and he knew he had to do everything in his power to stop that. No matter how much he tried to hate T52 for what happened, he could never muster even a hint of apathy when he took in the cowered mess in front of him. He couldn’t let them take him away.

He couldn’t handle losing anyone again.

He gently cleared his throat, tugging his lips into a disarming smile. “Hello, T52.”

T52’s eyes flickered over to him, the first sign he acknowledged him, and Sang-hyuk latched onto that. He kept his movements slow, calculated, as he slowly rolled his chair over to the bed, his eyes never looking away to make sure T52 was okay. T52 made no move one way or the other, and Sang-hyuk pursed his lips. He had been here for almost five minutes and T52 hadn’t reset so far, a surprise in itself, though Sang-hyuk knew better than to get too excited.

T52 had always been unpredictable, and this was nothing different.

“T52…how are you? I haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?” He spoke slowly, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, trying to peek through the latter’s stringy bangs to catch his gaze. He carefully placed his hands on the bed and T52 finally picked his head up, his bangs hanging limply over his eyes. Sang-hyuk was suddenly hit with a wave of revulsion, not realizing how good T52 had looked when with Hak-yeon, and how utterly animalistic he looked when returned to the conditions that had once been considered normal.

“Touch…” T52 scratched out, his eyes unfocused as if trying to figure out who Sang-hyuk was, “touch, please.” When Sang-hyuk reached out to brush his hand, he shook his head furiously. “Do not touch.”

Sang-hyuk swallowed, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. “Then what touch?”

T52’s whole body seized, the onset of a reset, and Sang-hyuk frowned when he noticed the way T52’s breath hitched, his brow furrowed in a way he had never seen before. There was a lucidity in his gaze that spoke volumes, a tightness in his shaking fingers that hinted that he was mentally present despite how his body reacted. Sang-hyuk found himself unable to look away as he waited for the tremors to leave the latter’s body, holding the other’s gaze until T52 finally blinked, not a trace of confusion in his eyes as he stared back.

“Touch, Sang-hyuk. I want touch.”

There was something T52 was trying to tell him, the conviction in his tone and the effort to stay awake through a reset only further proof. “If you don’t want my touch, then what do you want? You have to tell me.”

T52’s hand carefully unclasped itself from the death grip it had held on his knees, the movement silky as he ran his fingers through Sang-hyuk’s hair, the touch as simple as it was gentle. Sang-hyuk sat frozen as T52 his head, each attempt shaky as if he wasn’t sure what he was doing, and he felt his breath away. No one had ever touched T52 so intimately for him to learn such a gesture, not even himself; his eyes watered as he realized where exactly T52 had learned it. “This touch; I want it.”

Sang-hyuk didn’t even try to hide how his voice cracked, his chest hurting so badly he wanted to cry. “D-do…do you know where you learned that?”

T52 pulled his hand back, wrapping it around his knees again. “It is because of me.”

Sang-hyuk blinked, his lips parting as he let out a shaking breath. Did T52 know…? He seemed to remember Hak-yeon to some degree, if the impressions left on his memories weren’t enough, but it was unclear how much he understood. But it filled him with a strange sense of warmth that there was someone, cyborg or otherwise, who was just as deeply affected as he was. He didn’t wait for approval this time as he placed a hand on T52’s elbow, the latter’s eyes snapping up to him, watching him cautiously.

“T52…have they told you? About…about Hak-yeon?”

T52’s body stiffened at the mention of Hak-yeon’s name, shaking through a violent spasm as he fought to stay aware through another reset. He could see the toll it took on him, his breathing becoming more labored and his eyes glossy, and Sang-hyuk wondered sadly how much energy it took for the poor thing to do so. But T52 was proving very quickly how strong he could be, his gaze hardening once the reset had passed.

“Hak-yeon…what happened?”

“He…he lived. He’s alive.”

T52’s eyes scanned over him to take in his expression, his face shifting until it fell on a wide-eyed look of despair, and Sang-hyuk wondered if that was how he had been looking these past few weeks. No wonder Won-shik had been worried. “They have changed him?” When Sang-hyuk nodded, the despair turned to anguish. “He is now like me?”

“They haven’t done anything to him yet. They are waiting to make sure he’s strong enough before starting anything. But don’t worry,” he grabbed T52’s hand, and this time the other did nothing to pull away, “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they can’t touch him. He won’t turn out like you. I won’t let them.” Even though he knew it wasn’t what he wanted, Sang-hyuk couldn’t resist reaching up and running his hands through T52’s hair, ignoring the way T52’s eyes widened.

“I…I’ll see what I can do about letting you see him. He loved you; you deserve to see him too.”

That was the first time T52 smiled since everything started, and Sang-hyuk’s fingers slipped into a gentle caress of his cheek.

--

And like that, time began to pass again.

While it took some time before Sang-hyuk could look Won-shik in the eye again, he knew the other had only spoken the truth, each word ringing through his muddled brain until they were etched permanently beneath his eyelids. There was nothing that guaranteed Sang-hyuk anything, the very real threat of Hak-yeon or even Hong-bin being taken away suddenly heavy on his shoulders. He had already showed how dangerous he could be with how quickly he spiraled in the short week since Hak-yeon was put through the tests, and he knew they wouldn’t be willing to wait much longer. If he wanted to keep Hak-yeon, he had to change.

There was no time to pick up the pieces, haphazardly gathering the fragments and sticking them wherever they fit. He got rid of his apartment completely, moving permanently into the basement bunks. He couldn’t bear stepping foot into the place that only reminded him of things he couldn’t bear to remember. All the fake confidence he had built over the years was now plastered on his face at all times, never letting the mask fall until he was alone. It worked to some extent, the pitying looks he had always received quickly turning to ones of awe. Self-consciousness and embarrassment no longer had a place in his life, the pieces too jagged and scarred. Hak-yeon only deserved confidence, and that was all he was going to leave room for.

The fact that Won-shik would sometimes glance at him sadly meant nothing.

He only wanted to give Hak-yeon happiness, to make him smile and love in a way he never could have before. Just because they changed him didn’t mean he was still mostly human, and that he was still very much capable of living. He knew the higher-ups were willing to let him do pretty much anything as long as positive results were still being made, so he focused on just making Hak-yeon as happy as he could. And the first thing he had to do was make sure Hak-yeon understood he was absolutely special.

He slapped on the biggest, widest smile he could as he stepped into Hak-yeon’s room, trying his hardest to ignore the stiff way Hak-yeon waited, already trained to sit exactly as Hong-bin did, his eyes unblinking. He had to stay calm, bright; Hak-yeon was smart, and caught onto negative emotions quickly. He didn’t deserve to see Sang-hyuk as anything but. He saw Hak-yeon’s eyes snap down to the plastic bag dangling from his fingers, the motion so rigid and withdrawn, and it took everything in him to keep his smile up.

“Hello there, Y21,” he greeted as he bounded over to the bedside, dropping the bag onto the desk as he grabbed Hak-yeon’s hands. He steadfastly ignored the way his chest clenched at the model number, fighting the urge to clench his fists at how Hak-yeon’s eyes flashed in recognition. Grubby fingers and tainted thoughts had blotted the sun, and Hak-yeon’s muted tones sat before him in a paled version of himself.

But the apathy they had tried to replace Hak-yeon’s personality with did not fade him completely, parts of him peeking through when he moved along to Sang-hyuk’s words, wanting to please without realizing why.

“I have something for you,” Sang-hyuk said hurriedly, distracting himself before his thoughts darkened any further. Happy thoughts, only happy thoughts. He could feel Hak-yeon’s eyes watching him as he grabbed the bag and held it out for him to see, blinking confusedly. A forced laugh escaped Sang-hyuk’s lips. “These are for you.” He could see Hak-yeon stare at him, able to understand his confusion despite the other’s inability to express it, and laughed brokenly as he pulled out a simple t-shirt. He purposefully shoved the many images of Hak-yeon wearing this same t-shirt, sleepy and smiling, to the back of his mind. He would never tell anyone this was Hak-yeon’s favorite, or the one Sang-hyuk loved the most.

They never would’ve saved it if they had known, let alone allow him to give it to Hak-yeon.

“The others aren’t too keen about it, but I feel that you deserve to have something cover you up. Don’t you think so?” He kept his smile in place as he smoothly lifted Hak-yeon’s arms up, hesitating briefly when he saw the way Hak-yeon stared at him, his eyes glossy despite how sharp his gaze was. He knew it was false hope, but there was almost a hint of awareness hiding there, as if Hak-yeon was learning and understanding more than he was able to tell. But Sang-hyuk knew better than to think too deeply, already having suffered through those same thoughts with Hong-bin. No matter how Hong-bin did it, there was no way Hak-yeon would’ve been able to keep his memories.

“There you go,” he announced brightly as he tugged the shirt down over Hak-yeon’s head, his mouth running dry at how the collar hung low to reveal his collarbones, his hair mussed in a way that painfully reminded him of all the times Hak-yeon had sleepily stumbled around the apartment looking exactly like this. He stayed silent as he watched Hak-yeon curiously look down at himself, giving him time before gently reaching out and taking his hands.

“Do you like it?” he asked without thinking, a rush of regret surging through him when he saw the way Hak-yeon only blinked at him. “Ah, sorry. I-”

“I like it.”

Three words; three words that would’ve meant nothing uttered in any other context—but it was those three words that broke him. For that brief moment, with those three words lingering in the air, Hak-yeon returned, his gentle gaze and soft smile the same one he had reserved for the days Sang-hyuk truly needed his warmth. Sang-hyuk felt himself crumbling as tears ran down his cheeks with abandon, smiling genuinely as a laugh tumbled from his lips, his hands moving up to cup Hak-yeon’s cheeks, everything so soft and cold. Hak-yeon had always promised to stay by Sang-hyuk’s side, so firm despite the world continuing to knock them down, and he could see it was true even now. Even after having his memories stolen and his body changed, Hak-yeon still tried to reach out to him, comfort him in a way only he could.

“You don’t deserve to be here,” he whispered, unable to hide his smile as he pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes so he could let his simple mind imagine. “It’s all my fault…I’m so sorry.” It’s okay, he could almost hear, Hak-yeon’s whisper so faint, I won’t blame you. He let out a shaky breath before a soft brush jolted his eyes wide open, and he looked up to see Hak-yeon staring at him, his hands carefully placed over Sang-hyuk’s own. Another gentle smile spread across Hak-yeon’s lips, Sang-hyuk’s mouth falling open, words lost—

“I do not understand.”

That snapped Sang-hyuk out of his reverie, suddenly very aware of where he was and what was happening, stiffly yanking his hands away. He tried to keep himself at a distance as he helped Hak-yeon put on the rest of the clothes, though was unable to stay completely removed when Hak-yeon stood before him, awkwardly hanging his hands at his sides as he waited for Sang-hyuk’s reaction. This was his Hak-yeon, and his heart swelled.

“I promised you I would never leave you, didn’t I? Don’t worry. I’ll always be here.”

It was those words that pushed him to guide Hak-yeon to the mirror he had put in the room for just this occasion, patience flooding his every pore as Hak-yeon stumbled over his own feet, the latter no longer able to walk on his own. He disregarded the way his hand burned under Hak-yeon’s death grip, focusing only on supporting the other’s back as he lathered him in sweet words, compliments rolling off his tongue with each step. Eventually they were able to reach the mirror, and he could feel his heart break at the absolutely confused look Hak-yeon had at his own reflection.

He took a deep breath as he smiled softly, placing his hands on Hak-yeon’s shoulders. Hak-yeon didn’t seem to notice, his attention entirely focused on their reflection and trying his hardest to discern what he was seeing. “Do you see it?” he asked, finally getting Hak-yeon’s attention as the other’s eyes flickered briefly to him. “Do you know what you’re looking at?”

“There is someone next to you,” Hak-yeon said breathlessly, blinking, and Sang-hyuk felt overwhelming affection burst rush through him as he wrapped his arms around Hak-yeon’s waist, pressing their cheeks together. He could feel Hak-yeon’s body easily bend and shift along to Sang-hyuk’s whims, no longer having a mind of its own, and he reveled in the plushness of the other’s skin, the muscles lax from years of nonuse.

“Yes, there is,” he whispered, meeting Hak-yeon’s gaze in the mirror, “you’re next to me. The person in the mirror…that’s you.”

He could see something click in Hak-yeon’s mind, the slow realization of self-awareness. He begrudgingly loosened his grasp so Hak-yeon could tentatively reach out and brush his fingers against the mirror, disbelief on his face as he tried to take in everything. Neither Hong-bin nor T52 knew what they looked like, never having been given a chance to realize themselves in a way beyond their status as a cyborg. It wasn’t something that was forbidden, just something easily overlooked, no one having given any thought to letting the cyborgs understand who they were beyond what they could perceive. And as he watched Hak-yeon marvel at his own reflection and come to terms with what he saw, he wondered how the others would react.

It was something they deserved.

Only after he made sure Hak-yeon was calm and situated did he finally leave the room, only to stop abruptly at the sight of T52 lingering outside the door. It took him almost a full minute to realize the cyborg was actually standing in front of him, blinking a few times just to make sure. He glanced around hurriedly, catching a few people’s eye and waiting until they scurried out of view before grabbing T52’s hand, jerking him to the wall and hiding him against his front. His heart hammered furiously, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how exactly T52 managed to get all the way here on his own. While there wasn’t much surveillance on T52 anymore, he couldn’t imagine he could walk around the lab freely.

T52 squirmed uncomfortably under his tight grip, and Sang-hyuk forced his grip to loosen, his hand shaking. “T52…did you come here by yourself?” T52’s eyes flickered to Hak-yeon’s door, his expression mirroring Sang-hyuk’s. Sang-hyuk sighed softly, his hand hesitating before awkwardly resting on the other’s shoulder. His eyes caught the dark, puckered skin that peeked out from the lab coat T52 somehow managed to find, knowing he’d have to get it replaced soon. “I…it’s too early. I haven’t gotten permission yet. You can’t come here on your own.”

T52’s frown deepened, his eyes now focused solely on the door. “Hak-yeon-”

“You can’t call him that.” The words felt like lead in his mouth, the hypocrisy in demanding T52 to do the very thing Sang-hyuk hated causing his stomach to turn. When he saw T52 stare at him blankly, opening his mouth to voice his confusion, he quickly continued. “Just like how we call you T52 even though you have a name you like, we have to call him Y21. You have to do this, for Hak-yeon.”

T52 didn’t answer for a while, eyes unblinking, and Sang-hyuk was terrified that he was going to reset right there when, “Is he hurting?”

Sang-hyuk shook his head weakly, unable to hide the exhaustion that clung to every pore of his body, sure that T52 could understand. T52 had always been perceptive to even the most minimal of facial changes, knowing how to react despite not knowing what they were. This was true even now, T52’s eyes narrowing as he once again looked to Hak-yeon’s door. “Have they touched him?”

“No…no. He’s fine. He actually is doing better than expected. He’s very smart.”

T52 nodded, looking back to him. “I want to see him.”

Sang-hyuk hesitated again, his breath catching. “I’ll see what I can do. They’re very happy with how he’s progressing, so I’m sure I can put a good word in. I’ll make sure to let you know the moment I do.” There was nothing but trust in T52’s eyes as he allowed Sang-hyuk to quickly lead him back to his room, and Sang-hyuk hated that look more than anything.

Hak-yeon had looked at him in the exact same way. 

--

He felt a wave of nervousness hit him as he slowly cracked open Hong-bin’s door, his shoulders slumping in relief when he saw the other still plugged in. He let out a sigh as he settled into the chair, taking in the sight of Hong-bin’s seemingly sleeping face, a tentative hand reaching out and his cheek. Since everything with Hak-yeon, Sang-hyuk had withdrawn from everyone, including Hong-bin. He knew Hong-bin had worried about him, trying to help despite the numerous ways Sang-hyuk had deflected behind bright smiles and fake reassurances. It was something Hong-bin had done since revealing how much he remembered, concerned and strong, and Sang-hyuk felt something in his chest stir at the thought.

Sang-hyuk had always kept a distance between him and Hong-bin, his instinctive reaction to run keeping them farther and farther away. The fear of Hong-bin disappearing and leaving him alone, as well as Hak-yeon’s safety, had only added to it, leaving each encounter stilted and professional. Even when Hong-bin pulled him close and Sang-hyuk pretended to melt into his arms, there was a wall, constructed high and tall to keep Sang-hyuk safe. His personal safety had always preceded anything when it came to the lab and his job, and he was sure Hong-bin knew that to a certain extent.

But…as he sat here and stared at Hong-bin’s sleeping face, his thumb tracing along his soft cheekbones and resting against the edge of his lips, he found himself unable to keep that distance. He wasn’t sure what in that moment changed, whether it was the sudden realization that Hong-bin looked so incredibly soft like this, dressed in Sang-hyuk’s loose t-shirt and trimmed slacks, or his desperation for even a hint of warmth, but he found himself unable to move away. In that moment, he realized there was nothing waiting for him at home anymore, nothing tugging at the edges of his mind to warn him to run. The fear that had always guided him, tormented him, suddenly seemed so far away, and for the first time he allowed his heart to lead him.

His hands trailed down to Hong-bin’s waist, taking a small breath before tugging the other back, grunting heavily as he shifted Hong-bin to sit against the wall. With the other still in deep sleep, his body was difficult to maneuver, his limbs stiff and requiring him to crack them into place. But Sang-hyuk took his time, for the first time feeling completely unburdened as he made sure Hong-bin was comfortable before slipping out of his shoes and climbing onto the bed with him. He settled down and chuckled to himself, fixing the loose strands of Hong-bin’s hair before finally tugging the cable out of his chest. He gave a pleased hum as he waited for Hong-bin to wake, laughing childishly at the surprise that flashed in his eyes.

“Hello, Hong-bin,” he greeted, grinning beautifully, and the surprise in Hong-bin’s eyes quickly turned to concern.

“Hello, Sang-hyuk,” he responded automatically, though the concern was still bright in his gaze as he glanced around the room, no doubt having noticed their different positions. Hong-bin did not speak again, instead staying silent as if waiting for Sang-hyuk to explain, and Sang-hyuk realized this has always been their dynamic. Even when it was a drilled habit for the cyborgs to wait until addressed before speaking, Hong-bin never pressed unless he was sure Sang-hyuk was ready. He always waited, was always patient, and Sang-hyuk found himself reaching over and lacing their fingers together.

“Thank you, Hong-bin,” he said sincerely, and he could see he caught the other off-guard, Hong-bin blinking confusedly as his eyes searched Sang-hyuk’s face. When Sang-hyuk did nothing but smile, Hong-bin’s fingers around his tightened.

“I have never disliked your ability to hide your emotions as much as now. I do not understand what you are saying.”

Sang-hyuk chuckled before pulling his hands away, only to instead push Hong-bin’s legs apart, reveling in the way Hong-bin allowed him to move his body without question. He tossed his lab coat to the floor before crawling into Hong-bin’s lap, no longer needing to guide the other as Hong-bin’s arms immediately wrapped around Sang-hyuk’s waist, pulling him close to his chest. Sang-hyuk felt his heart race as Hong-bin’s light breath ghosted along his neck, adrenaline pumping through his veins. A part of him, after years of conditioning, still screamed to run before anyone saw, to hide before there was a chance of being hurt.

Hong-bin seemed to realize something was wrong, his arms pulling him closer while his voice drifted along his ear. “Are you alright, being like this? Will they not be angry with you for being this close to me?”

Sang-hyuk leaned back so his head was tucked under Hong-bin’s chin, turning just slightly so his cheek was pressed against the silky skin of Hong-bin’s neck. He adjusted just enough he could feel the protruding stitching between Hong-bin’s real skin and the fake one, his bottom lip running over the line, and he felt Hong-bin’s body stiffen under the sudden, intimate touch. Sang-hyuk sighed, his eyes dropping to stare at the hint of skin poking out from under Hong-bin’s collar. “It doesn’t matter. They have already taken everything from me. There’s nothing they can do anymore.”

The truth in those words scared him, goosebumps racing across his skin despite how hard he tried to convince himself to believe them. There was always something they could find to blackmail him, now having Hak-yeon right under their thumb, and he was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Hong-bin as well. Hong-bin didn’t seem to be convinced either.

“You do not mean that. Arrogance has led to the end of many, including your father. You cannot believe that does not affect you.”

Sang-hyuk let out a soft sigh, breathing in the smell of disinfectant that he had long associated with Hong-bin. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but it did the job. “I don’t. I just…I can’t afford to be scared anymore. They’ve been taking advantage of me all this time because they knew it. I have to.”

Hong-bin hummed, his one hand loosening around Sang-hyuk’s waist to take his hand. It was cold, but the clammy texture was a thing of the past. It felt so real, so human, and if Sang-hyuk closed his eyes it was easy to imagine Hong-bin as nothing but. “Have they touched your friend?”

“Not yet. I’m trying my hardest on keeping them away, but I know it’s only a matter of time. He…he doesn’t remember anything and trusts me so completely…I don’t want to hurt him. I really don’t.” He didn’t realize he had started crying until Hong-bin was wiping the tips of his lashes, his touch incredibly gentle, and Sang-hyuk shivered against his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he craved another person’s touch, and even something as stilted as Hong-bin’s attempt was enough to make his heart hurt. He choked out a sob, doing his best to hide everything. It was all he knew how to do.

“He was everything to me, and I was the one who killed him. Even if he’s alive, it’s not him. I’m trying my best, but every time I see him, I feel so guilty. I could barely hold it together when it happened to you. I want to be there for him…I’m just so scared that I won’t be able to.”

Hong-bin didn’t speak for the longest time, just holding his hand and purposefully taking heavy breaths so Sang-hyuk could rock against his chest. It was incredibly soothing, and Sang-hyuk could even feel himself begin to drift off, though he knew better. While he wasn’t sure what the reaction would be once they saw him with Hong-bin, he was certain they’d be furious if he fell asleep. He was startled back to the present when a hand carefully brushed the hair from his eyes. He tilted his head up to see Hong-bin staring down at him, his eyes showcasing everything he was unable to.

“Sang-hyuk, you cannot blame yourself. You were young when you were forced to work with me. You have much experience now, and are capable to take care of your friend.” When Sang-hyuk scrunched his face in disbelief, Hong-bin frowned. “I am trying to comfort you. I cannot tell how you feel when you change your face like that.”

That got a dry laugh out of him. “Sorry. It’s just…I was never even sure I was taking care of you correctly. I just did what I was told and prayed I didn’t get in trouble.” He watched Hong-bin’s brows furrow slightly, mimicking Sang-hyuk, and Sang-hyuk quickly relaxed his face. “I’m not worried about doing the tests, I can do that fine. It’s working with him that’s the problem. Having to call him by his model number instead of his name…it breaks my heart.”

“Your heart cannot break.”

Sang-hyuk laughed genuinely that time, pulling away enough so he could turn in Hong-bin’s lap, their faces only inches from each other. He tapped Hong-bin’s forehead playfully, skimming over the scar that was always hidden under his hair. “It’s just a saying, silly. My heart won’t actually break—it means it makes me very sad.”

“You are sad.”

Sang-hyuk blinked, rocking back and putting a wider distance between them. “Yes.”

“You have been sad for a while.”

“…yes.”

Hong-bin’s eyes dimmed, his frown deepening despite Sang-hyuk’s expression looking nothing alike. “Then all this time, you have lied when you told me you were fine. You were sad even when you smiled.” Sang-hyuk looked down sheepishly, and Hong-bin hummed. “I do not like that you can hide so much. Hiding your emotions has hurt you.”

“I told you I can’t go around showing everyone how I feel. They’d eat me alive-” His words were lost in a high-pitched squeak when Hong-bin’s lips were suddenly pressed against his own, all rational thinking melting away the moment they touched. It was as if he was a child again, heat flushing his cheeks and a heavy heat curling in the pit of his stomach as Hong-bin’s hands carefully raised up to hold onto Sang-hyuk’s shoulders. He eventually closed his eyes, inwardly racking his brains for what he should do. He had never really kissed anyone on the lips and had long since stopped reading Hak-yeon’s cheesy romance novels—he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he kiss back? Should he hug him? Take his clothes off? He was sure that happened in one of Hak-yeon’s stupid books, though he wasn’t about to strip with cameras everywhere.

But before he could think of a proper response Hong-bin was already pulling away, a wide smile Sang-hyuk had never seen before bright on his lips. Sang-hyuk could only stare for the first few seconds before his mind went into overdrive, mouth dropping open and struggling to find words. “W-what? W-what was that?”

“A kiss is for when I see someone in a different light, and I want to mark it as something only for myself. You taught me that, do you not remember?”

Sang-hyuk blinked dumbly as he ran through every dumb thing he’s ever mentioned to Hong-bin, not sure when he could have said something as stupid as that. He hadn’t really said much to him in the years they’ve been together, always so careful—his eyes widened. “T-that—that wasn’t what I meant!”

Hong-bin frowned. “You did not correct me before. Is a kiss not a proper gesture to show that I want to help you?” Sang-hyuk hurriedly shook his head, still rattled, and Hong-bin stiffened, his back immediately straightening. “I did not mean to act inappropriately. I cannot do anything to help you; I wanted to reassure you that I will support you. Was a kiss wrong?” 

Sang-hyuk scrambled for something to say, so very flustered yet also touched, in the end awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “It-it’s not that. I—you’re okay. I’m happy you want to help me, really. It’s just, uh, kisses are usually meant for something really, really different. Something I don’t think I can teach you.”

“Is it something I can learn?” Sang-hyuk didn’t answer, shame burning his cheeks, and Hong-bin hummed. “Can I kiss you again?”

Sang-hyuk’s head snapped up. “What?”

“It is something emotional, and I want to learn. Unless it hurts you to do so?”

“N-no! That, that’s not—uh, yeah, I guess. Yeah, y-you can, if you want.” Hong-bin’s lip upturned in a half-smile as he placed his hands over Sang-hyuk’s forearms, holding him still as he slowly leaned forward to kiss Sang-hyuk again. Sang-hyuk was prepared this time, his brain ready to handle the sheer amount of panic, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tentatively opened his lips to kiss back. There was none of the rush from the first time, instead a sweet calm falling over them as time seemed to stop. Neither knew how to properly kiss, their lips staying absolutely still as they awkwardly breathed into each other’s mouths, but it was a moment Sang-hyuk would never want to forget.

As they sat there and tried to convey feelings for very different things with a simple touch of the lips, Sang-hyuk found himself feeling lighter than he ever had in his entire life.

He waited until he was in the safety of the basement, curled up in his bed with his back pressed against the wall, before he allowed himself to think of Hong-bin again, his lips tingling. Hong-bin hadn’t done much after they pulled away, only pleading that Sang-hyuk not hide anything from him again and Sang-hyuk too dazed to do much else besides nod. As he pulled his knees to his chest and stared blankly at the empty room shrouded in darkness, he tried to tell himself that the kiss meant nothing and Hong-bin understood none of what a kiss actually meant, but found the attempt to be useless.

For years, he had been convinced to believe the cyborgs were incapable of understanding basic human emotions, little more than robots that happened to once be human. Like Won-shik insisted, it was the easiest way to get through the tests and still be able to look at himself in the mirror at the end of the day—they weren’t human, and never would be.  Even when Hong-bin revealed to still remember him, Sang-hyuk still looked at him like a machine, his soft words and sweet concern just something he learned to use when confronted with a crumbling human. Keeping an emotional distance between them made sense, but as he numbly ran his fingers over his lips, he felt his entire world shatter around him.

Hong-bin had once been human.

T52, Y09, Hak-yeon…they all had.

While it was easy to overlook and brush off the inconsistencies as simple coincidences, there were so many instances of the cyborgs being more than machines. Hong-bin had always shown great interest in learning to express himself, willing to ask questions once comfortable. T52 showed that he was actually incredibly sensitive, understanding all the hurtful words thrown at him yet unable to defend himself. Even Hak-yeon, so newly bestowed with this terrible curse, had glimpses of his old personality shining through, desperate to please and wanting more than anything to see him smile. They all had been human, and they still were.

Sang-hyuk felt tears prick his eyes. He had always prided himself in treating the cyborgs as equals. But as he imagined Hong-bin’s lips on his, he found that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

--

Sang-hyuk couldn’t resist carefully running his hand through Hak-yeon’s hair as they huddled together on the bed, unable to hide his smile when he saw how wide Hak-yeon’s eyes were as he overdramatically regaled him with the story of Cinderella. He found himself drawn to the sparkling fascination in his eyes, purposefully changing his voice to complement the pictures and biting back laughter when Hak-yeon unknowingly scrunched his face in attempts to match. It was truly fascinating to watch; ever since they met, Hak-yeon had always been so mature for his age, acting far beyond his years. But now, as they sat together and Sang-hyuk had an arm wrapped around him and a blanket secured snugly around his waist, he caught a brief glimpse of the Hak-yeon that never got to be, a curious child that grew up way too fast.

He remembered the many nights Hak-yeon had curled up in bed with him, the nearby lamp being the only source of light as Hak-yeon read fairytales to him. Sang-hyuk had been so young and gullible then, cowering in Hak-yeon’s arms and whining when Hak-yeon only laughed at him. But as he sat here now, Hak-yeon leaning into his side and his fingers buried in the other’s hair, he found the memory calming in a way.

Sang-hyuk had always thought of himself first, be it ignoring the cyborgs’ inherent humanity or Hak-yeon’s sacrifices, preferring to bury himself in his own problems and waiting for someone else to comfort him. But there was no one to comfort him now, yet instead of feeling horror at the prospect, he felt serene. He was finally taking that first step, finally putting Hak-yeon’s happiness first, and he would do whatever it took to keep that smile on his face.

He stopped when Hak-yeon carefully grabbed his hand, tugging it close to his chest, and he waited patiently for Hak-yeon to word his question. “Sang-hyuk,” he said, his voice cold and uncertain, “do you feel this way?”

Sang-hyuk looked down to see the picture of Cinderella, her face buried in her hands as she cried amongst the torn shreds of her dress. He hesitated briefly, unsure what Hak-yeon was trying to ask. “Well…not like that, no.”

“You cry.”

Sang-hyuk stared at him openly, eyes wide in disbelief as he looked between the picture and Hak-yeon. The cyborgs, Hak-yeon included, were believed to only understand facial expressions based on what they could see, hence why they were always mimicking the people around them. While Hak-yeon had plenty of chances seeing Sang-hyuk cry, the picture itself was incredibly ambiguous. Cinderella’s emotional state could easily be discerned from the words of the story and basic intuition, though without those things it would be difficult to work out how she felt. For Hak-yeon to figure out she was crying, and then match it to Sang-hyuk, was absolutely remarkable.

He swallowed. “Yes, I can. I can feel it anytime.”

“Why can I not?” Sang-hyuk was once again thrown for a loop when Hak-yeon turned his gaze up to him, his brow furrowed in a way that was in no way similar to Sang-hyuk’s. There was a determination in his stare, a firm set in his downturned lips that once again punched a hole into the facts that had once made up Sang-hyuk’s entire world. Hak-yeon continued, not realizing how much he was affecting him. “I want to feel, but I cannot.”

“Y-you will one day,” Sang-hyuk whispered softly, trailing a shaking hand down Hak-yeon’s cheek, “I’ll make sure of it.” Hak-yeon only had the chance to blink at him before a loud bang came from outside the door, and Sang-hyuk felt his whole body instantly fly into a barely concealed rage. He gently shushed Hak-yeon before immediately heading to the door, his fists shaking as his lips turned down into the nastiest snarl he could make.

He had made it perfectly clear that no one was supposed to come near Hak-yeon’s room unless they confirmed with him first. He had made it his number one rule, one that even Joon-myeon begrudgingly agreed to. He had reluctantly agreed to letting the intern Kim Seok-jin feed Hak-yeon after their sessions, though even then he was always watching to make sure Seok-jin left right after. They knew they couldn’t come here—so who the was banging on the door?

He swung open the door and nearly took Seok-jin out, the latter stumbling back and nearly falling to the floor, though he found he had very little room to care. His gaze was instead immediately drawn to the fallen kit by Seok-jin’s feet—and the large syringe in his hand. He saw red as he reached down and yanked Seok-jin to his feet, slamming him against the wall as hard as he could. He faintly heard the poor boy whimper, fear apparent in his eyes, but he couldn’t focus on that. Not when he knew exactly what the other was trying to do.

“What the do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I’m, I’m s-sorry, Doctor Han!” Seok-jin stammered, curling in on himself when Sang-hyuk’s fingers tightened around his collar, his hands shaking. “I-I know you said not to come, but I had to-”

“What could be so important that you had to interrupt me?” His eyes shot down to the syringe again, growling even deeper. “Who ing told you to come here with that?” He spat out the last word, and Seok-jin looked like his soul left his body.

“K-Kim Joon-myeon, sir!” Sang-hyuk’s hands loosened at that, eyes widening in shock, and Seok-jin took that moment to gasp for air, trembling. “H-he called me into his office and said to give this to it, regardless if y-you agreed or not. I didn’t question anything, I-I’m sorry-” Seok-jin shoved Sang-hyuk away as he bolted into Hak-yeon’s room, that goddamn syringe still in his hand, and Sang-hyuk howled as he ran after him. NO. No no no no no no no no no no no no no—

“Kim Seok-jin!” he shouted, lunging forward and wrenching Seok-jin away when he saw the other man’s hand reaching out to grab Hak-yeon.

“I-I’m sorry, Sang-hyuk, sir,” Seok-jin said, slipping out of formalities as he trembled, “I was ordered to-”

“Then I order you not to. I already told them I don’t want anyone touching him!”

“They said it didn’t matter. It’s already been progressing a lot; they want to start the tests and-”

“No. No one is allowed to test on him. I already told them that! They put me in charge and he’s mine.” He then turned to look down at Hak-yeon, only for his eyes to widen in horror when he saw the other attempting to climb out of bed, his limbs tangled in the blankets and a look of pain on his face. He quickly ran over to Hak-yeon’s side, schooling his face into the gentlest he could, helping him back onto the bed and tucking him in. As he watched Hak-yeon stare at him, worry in his eyes and confusion clouding his face, he wanted to break everything in the room and scream to the heavens if only to keep him safe.

“We have to,” Seok-jin tried to reason behind him, his voice slowly regaining confidence as his stutters disappeared. “You know they want to, and they’d be furious if they found out we didn’t do it. We can at least give the serum to shut it down-”

“Stop calling him an ‘it’,” Sang-hyuk whispered, focusing only on Hak-yeon’s small pout to keep from exploding. He thought of all the times he had listened to others being dismissive of the cyborgs, Won-shik, Joon-myeon, hell, even Sung-jae, but never had it infuriated him more than now. Hak-yeon, his friend, his brother, his world—he was not an it, and never would be. “He was human, he still is human. He is a he. Not an ‘it’. Don’t call him an it!”

The room was deathly silent, eventually Seok-jin whispering a soft, “I’m sorry.”

He felt something squirm under him, and he looked up to see Hak-yeon attempting to meet his eye, frowning. “I am not an ‘it’?”

Tears ran down Sang-hyuk’s face as he cupped Hak-yeon’s cheeks, his heart breaking at the innocent question. “No, baby. You’re not an ‘it’. Please don’t think that. Don’t let anyone make you think that.” He leaned forward until his forehead was pressed against Hak-yeon’s, their noses brushing and the latter’s faint breath ghosting across his lips. “Y21, you are not some science experiment, do you understand? You’re precious, so remember that you are not an ‘it’. You are a ‘he’, a ‘him’, a human being, okay?”

“I understand,” Hak-yeon responded, and despite knowing there was no way he could, Sang-hyuk decided to believe his lie. He slowly pulled away, giving Seok-jin a withering glare as he reluctantly allowed the other to step forward, the syringe prepped and ready in his hand. He ignored the pitying glance Seok-jin sent him before putting the needle into Hak-yeon’s arm, and fled out of the room before he could hear Hak-yeon call for him.

He felt a sense of déjà vu as he stormed into Joon-myeon’s office, though Joon-myeon didn’t seem the least bit surprised as he casually greeted him with a wave. While Sang-hyuk didn’t dare scream or throw anything to the floor, he stalked up to Joon-myeon’s desk, placing his hands on the surface to brace himself as he breathed out, “What the , Joon-myeon?”

Joon-myeon blinked at the blatant lack of formalities, taking a second to gather his bearings before scoffing out, “Excuse me?”

“I said, what the ? Why did you send Seok-jin to start his tests? I explicitly told you no one was supposed to touch him unless they went through me! Why did you go behind my back?” His voice rose with each word, his hatred and frustration seeping into his voice and tainting his vision. That syringe, it was the beginning of the end—it was the start of the tests, amputating parts of the body to replace them with artificial bull, ones that would eventually cause problems and have to be repaired or replaced. He remembered how broken Sung-jae had been when it started to Y09, though he would be damned if he let it happen to Hak-yeon. 

Joon-myeon let out a disbelieving laugh, discreetly pushing his chair back to try and regain some of his domineering presence. It may have worked at some point, but somewhere in the past few weeks Sang-hyuk had lost all ability to be afraid of this man. Joon-myeon had always used Hak-yeon to keep him in line, but now that he had crossed that line and already destroyed him, there was nothing to threaten him with. Even the threat to take Hak-yeon away didn’t scare him, not after seeing that needle pierce Hak-yeon’s arm.

Joon-myeon pointed a finger at him, continuing to laugh as he scrambled for something to say. “You have guts, kid. I don’t think I’ve had someone dare to yell at me in years. But you should still be careful what you say-”

“Or what? You’re going to threaten Hak-yeon? I hate to break it to you, but you’ve already done that.”

Joon-myeon frowned, though he fought hard to stay indifferent. “There are always other ways to keep you in line. There are many tests that we’re waiting to start with Y21, but we’ve been holding off for you. But if you keep acting like an arrogant piece of , I can’t guarantee we’ll wait.”

“Don’t try to make it sound like you’re worried about me. You haven’t started because you’re scared of how he’ll react. You don’t give a how it’ll affect me.” Joon-myeon finally dropped his nonchalant façade, glaring openly at him. It was Sang-hyuk’s turn to scoff at him, immensely enjoying being the intimidating one for once as he leaned in closer. “Now, why did you tell Seok-jin to start the test? Without telling me first?”

“You think we didn’t try? Purposefully ignoring our invoices isn’t going to stop us. There’s only so much time we’re willing to wait before we take measures into our own hands.” When Sang-hyuk opened his mouth to protest, curses already on the tip of his tongue, Joon-myeon quickly cut him off. “I already told you, Han Sang-hyuk. Y21 is nothing special. It will go through all the tests the others did. You can’t protect it.”

“He’s not ready-”

“It’s more than ready. It’s already been performing far beyond our expectations, and you know that. Honestly, it probably could have its whole arm replaced and be fine, but here I graciously took you into account and stopped at its hand. Stop being a child and accept that sometimes we have to do things out of our control. Including experimenting on things we’d prefer not to.” Sang-hyuk’s lip threatened to tremble at the passion behind Joon-myeon’s voice, knowing how much truth was laced in them, and dropped his head to hide his quivering shoulders. Yes, he knew at some point Hak-yeon would eventually have to be tested, that his body would eventually be replaced until he was the same as Hong-bin and T52, but he had blissfully pretended it wouldn’t happen until later. How much later he didn’t care, just not any time soon.

To think that one day Hak-yeon would take his hand and there would be nothing under his touch besides metal and fake skin…it made his blood run cold.

Hak-yeon’s fate was his alone, his life and world placed in his hands, and Sang-hyuk felt too unworthy and tainted to be given such a thing.

Joon-myeon gave him time to recover as he sat back at his desk, purposefully reorganizing papers and pretending to be busy until Sang-hyuk could finally lift his head again. The other man’s face was carefully blank, revealing nothing as he allowed Sang-hyuk to calm down. When he did speak again, his voice was quiet, his normal mocking tone completely absent. “Now, is there anything else you’d like to ask me? I noticed you volunteered to go see T52, how’d that go?”

Sang-hyuk was thankful for a distraction, falling into the seat as he went back into professional mode, absolutely exhausted. “He was struggling. He can’t recall Hak-yeon by name, but he seems to have some imprints of Hak-yeon’s presence in his actions. He didn’t reset once when I mentioned him.”

Joon-myeon’s eyes widened in surprise. “It didn’t? I’ve been getting reports that’s it’s been resetting an unsettling amount of times; did that not happen to you?”

Sang-hyuk briefly debated over how much to reveal, finally settling with, “He did a couple times, though they were nowhere near constant. I think…I think we should let T52 see Hak-yeon. He reacted well when I talked about him, and was actually lucid enough to ask questions. I think it will help him.” He took a deep breath when he saw the disapproval on Joon-myeon’s face, quickly adding, “I know we always kept the cyborgs away from each other, but I think it’ll be good for the both of them. Hak-yeon is progressing fast, like you said, and T52 is looking for him.”

Joon-myeon hummed, a distant look in his eye. “There’s a reason we always kept X39 and T52 apart, but I don’t think the same reasoning applies for Y21.” Sang-hyuk perked up at the mention of Hong-bin, having always wondered why the two of them had been kept apart, but knew better than to ask for details. “But I can understand your reasoning. It’s similar to how X39 was before we brought you in. Its health didn’t deteriorate like T52’s, but it refused to work with us and made it difficult to get anything from it. I’m sure there won’t be much of a problem getting T52 permission to see Y21, if only once.”

Suddenly Joon-myeon’s gaze hardened as he looked Sang-hyuk straight in the eye. “Not to mention, I’m sure there’ll be some great data we can collect if the two of them start interacting. Especially considering how similar they are to you and X39—you’ve been getting really close with X39 recently, haven’t you?”

Sang-hyuk stiffened, realizing Joon-myeon had seen the clip of him and Hong-bin kissing. While he wasn’t embarrassed or shy of it, he had no idea what the possible reaction would be. It was safe to say no one had ever tried kissing one of the cyborgs before. “I-”

“I’m just warning you to be careful. Nothing will happen now since it’s progressing well, but you better be careful not to cross a line and force us to take drastic measures again. It’s only been recently that X39 has shown any progress, so it won’t be much of a loss to wipe it again. Memories are easy to remove and easy to return, but the same can’t be said for you. This warning is mostly for you.”

Sang-hyuk swallowed, his hands gripping into terrifyingly tight fists. “I understand.” He stood up, ready to leave and run away before there was a chance for anything else to go wrong, when Joon-myeon cleared his throat.

“One more thing—the sponsors have requested to visit.” Sang-hyuk froze, body rigid, and Joon-myeon noticed. “We’ve told them to wait for now, since Hak-yeon is such a special case that we need to monitor closely, but they will visit soon. I wanted to ask for you opinion on what time would be good for him.”

“My opinion?” he asked dumbly.

“You’re the one in charge of Y21, and are going to have to attend the sponsor meetings from now on. So of course you’re going to get a say in when the best time would be.”

Sang-hyuk was honestly thrown at the sudden news, never having thought of the consequences of being Hak-yeon’s primary caretaker. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having to actually meet the sponsors face to face, especially Hak-yeon’s parents, and felt his stomach squirm at the thought. “I-I…I guess we should wait a little longer…just to make sure he doesn’t have any negative reactions to his…new hand.”

Joon-myeon nodded in agreement, humming softly. “That makes sense. I’ll relay that to the others. You can leave now—just make sure to remember who you’re talking to the next time you feel like breaking my door open and yelling in my face.” Joon-myeon was smiling at him, his words sickeningly sweet, but Sang-hyuk knew the intent behind it. He dazedly gave a quick bow before leaving the room, the door barely shutting behind him before his knees gave out from under him.

He had burst into that room with a fire that burned from the furnace in his chest to the tips of his toes, but now with every bit of that extinguished at the news of the sponsors and the awaiting expectation of Hak-yeon’s test results, he found the only thing still holding him up was that lingering tingle of his lips.

I'm sorry this took so long and made you guys wait all this time. This chapter was honestly one of the hardest to write so far, but I'm happy with how the plot's finally starting to move and things will begin revealing themselves!

Unfortunately the next chapter will probably take just as long (I'm moving soon, and it'll probably be a bit before I'll have time to write anything), but I'll try not to make the wait too long. Hopefully this longish chapter makes up for it!

Thank you for reading, and hope you're enjoying the story!~