When Sang-hyuk felt a warm hand trail over the edge of his jawline, he, for just a moment, imagined himself still curled under Hak-yeon’s body, so content. He wished he could stay there forever. As the hand moved along with the faint sound of a chuckle, he never wanted to open his eyes again as he leaned further into the touch. However, with each passing second the strong memories from his dream faded and reality set in, cruelly reminding him that wasn’t possible. The hand moved down to rest gently on his neck, the bed shifting beside him.

“Sang-hyuk, you need to wake up. Your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled tiredly into his pillow. He could hear a stifled laugh and he cracked an eye open to glare balefully at Hak-yeon grinning down at him. Just the sight lessened his exasperation drastically, the sweet, fading memories of how much he loved Hak-yeon from his dreams bittersweet. Now the only thing that filled him was a tired mixture of guilt and detachment that barely managed to get him through the day.

Hak-yeon seemed to sense Sang-hyuk wasn’t going to get up, slapping his shoulder lightly. “Come on Hyukkie, I already let you sleep long enough. You’re going to be late for work.”

“Don’t care.”

“Han Sang-hyuk-”

“No,” he whined, shoving Hak-yeon away and hiding under the blankets. He was completely wide awake at this point, something they were both very aware of. “Go away.”

Hak-yeon rolled his eyes but laughed all the same, making all kinds of noises as he clambered on top of Sang-hyuk, squishing him gently. “I’m not about to let you skip work on my watch, so if you don’t get up, I’m going to just lay here and annoy you all day.”

“But-”

“No buts.” Hak-yeon wriggled his arms out from under him and pulled the blanket down enough to see Sang-hyuk’s eyes, chortling as he blew in his face. “Don’t think I won’t do it.” His fingers crawled up until they were tucked under Hak-yeon’s chin, poking Sang-hyuk’s cheeks and tickling under his nose. Sang-hyuk tried to roll over but Hak-yeon swiftly locked his legs on either side of him, holding him prisoner to this horrible torture. Hak-yeon was freely laughing now, and honestly so was Sang-hyuk, Hak-yeon leaning over to nibble playfully on Sang-hyuk’s ear. “Just think, all you gotta do is get up.”

“Go away, Hak-yeon,” Sang-hyuk tried to snap, though a snort escaped his lips when Hak-yeon made a spitting sound against his neck.

“No, you have work and I’m not about to let you skip. Get your lazy up.”

“I don’t wanna! Please don’t make me…” He tried to distract Hak-yeon behind the cutest pout he could muster, trembling his lower lip for effect, and he could tell it worked. Hak-yeon paused for just a second before slapping his mouth lightly, pinching his nose.

“That’s not going to work. I’m going to reheat your breakfast, and you better be up and dressed by the time I come back. If not I’m going to drag you out.” Hak-yeon didn’t wait for an answer before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

Sang-hyuk knew Hak-yeon would make good on his threat, so after the door was shut he begrudgingly rolled out of bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump. He knew he still had more than enough time before he had to leave; Hak-yeon always woke him up extra early, exactly for this reason. Sang-hyuk hated waking up, hated going to work, hated life in general; though the world continued to rotate regardless and Hak-yeon was not about to let him rot away in bed. So, with a heavy heart, he untangled himself from his blankets and made his way to the bathroom, getting ready in record time only so Hak-yeon wouldn’t tickle him again.

Hak-yeon was all over him the moment he opened the door, fluttering around to make sure he was dressed appropriately and his hair was cleanly done. Sang-hyuk had nearly walked out of the apartment in his pajamas on more than one occasion if not for Hak-yeon, so as annoying as it was he allowed Hak-yeon to worry all he wanted.

“I reheated everything, though the eggs are kinda mushy now. You really should’ve gotten up when I told you to.” There was a pout in the other’s voice that Sang-hyuk only snickered at, ignoring Hak-yeon’s glare as he sat down and started eating. It was true the food was squishy and gross, but it would’ve been like that regardless if he woke up now or earlier. Not that he would ever tell Hak-yeon that.

“Are you going out today?” Sang-hyuk asked instead. Hak-yeon didn’t seem to mind the topic change much, shrugging.

“Probably. We’re running low on food and I need more lip balm. Do you need anything?” When Sang-hyuk just shook his head, he leaned forward, that cute smile on his lips. “Hey, what time will you get out of work? If you can come home early, maybe we can go eat somewhere together. How does that sound?”

Sang-hyuk paused with food halfway to his mouth at the suggestion, automatically thinking of different ways he could say no without upsetting him. Even after all these years, Hak-yeon still hadn’t completely figured out the rules, didn’t realize that Sang-hyuk wouldn’t be able to get him a pass to go out shopping and go out for dinner. It was enough of a hassle just for one, let alone two, and he knew there was no way they would approve it.

“Sorry Hak-yeon, I probably won’t get back till late. Don’t wait up for me and just make yourself something small.” He gave a placating smile when he saw Hak-yeon’s face fall, the guilt welling up inside only adding to all the feelings he suppressed on a daily basis. He hated making Hak-yeon sad. “Hey, if it makes you feel better, I can see if I can get an early leave tomorrow, and then we go somewhere really nice. How’s that?”  

“That would be great! But don’t get yourself in trouble if you can’t. I’m always here, so don’t worry too much.” Hak-yeon paused, already regretting saying anything, and the conversation was cut short by the awkward silence that followed. Sang-hyuk couldn’t look Hak-yeon in the eye as he put his finished plate in the sink, grabbing his coat to leave when a hand gently pulled at his elbow.

He refused to look up when that familiar hand cupped his cheek, Hak-yeon’s lips hovering over the side of Sang-hyuk’s chin. “I’m sorry baby, you know I didn’t mean that.” Sang-hyuk sighed and Hak-yeon knew he was forgiven, kissing his cheek sweetly. “If you want, I can still make you something. If you like. I can have it waiting for you.”

“No, it’s okay.” He stifled a cough when he leaned down slightly to rest his head on Hak-yeon’s shoulder, Hak-yeon’s hand instinctively coming up to rest on his back. “I…I have a lot to do today, I really won’t be back till late. Don’t wait for me.” He could feel the disappointment emanating off Hak-yeon in waves, though this time Hak-yeon didn’t say anything about it.

“…okay. Just be careful, coming home so late.”

Sang-hyuk snorted as he pulled away. “I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself.”

“I beg to differ.” Hak-yeon’s hand slowly let go of its grip on Sang-hyuk’s elbow, now pushing him gently. “You better get going, or you really will be late.” Sang-hyuk nodded slowly, giving Hak-yeon one last hug. He hated leaving.

He hated a lot of things.

It was times like these when he was thankful the lab was right around the corner, giving him no time to think of anything as he walked through the front door. His parents, Hak-yeon, Hong-bin…there were reasons he purposefully refused to remember any of those times, and he hated when his dreams didn’t allow him that.

There were a few people lingering in the lobby when he walked in, blowing past them without so much as a small greeting. As much as Hak-yeon, and Won-shik, unfortunately, tried to get him to change, Sang-hyuk absolutely loathed people, and if given the option would avoid them altogether. Honestly if it weren’t for Hak-yeon he probably would live in the bunkers downstairs just for the convenience.

With a quick flash of his ID he passed through the doors without a second glance, going straight for the elevator and disregarding a woman shouting something at him as he hurriedly pressed the doors closed. He realized belatedly that she probably had been calling out to wait for her, but he really could care less even if that were the case. He didn’t feel like standing in an elevator for thirteen floors with someone else.

The elevator ride was a lot shorter than he would’ve liked, letting out a long sigh when the doors clicked open. He hated the bare walls, the dreary atmosphere, the vacant stares everyone gave him as they turned to see who arrived. Despite the hundreds of people who worked here running around every day making as much noise as possible, the place always felt so quiet. Everything was clean, immaculate, and nothing was ever out of place, person or otherwise. It gave a feeling that always dampened Sang-hyuk’s mood the moment he stepped through the elevator doors, reminding him of who he was and what he was doing. Not that he could ever forget.

He eventually made his way over to the break room, his mind wandering as he mindlessly logged himself into the system. The lab he was assigned to ran over three floors, rooms upon rooms in the deceptively endless building holding everything his life revolved around. The majority of his work was on the second floor, only leaving to the others when working with Sung-jae or checking on the test subjects. His office, that he avoided like the plague, X39, T52, and the testing labs were all here, so on most days he didn’t need to really go anywhere. He liked that.

He flinched, something he would never admit, when he felt an overly friendly hand slap down on his shoulder, groaning as a low, heavy laugh rang obnoxiously in his ear. “Well hello there, little Hyuk. A little late today, aren’t we?”

Sang-hyuk didn’t look at the annoying offender as he stuffed his ID in his pocket, sighing. “Shut it, Won-shik.”

“Oh, look at that sass.” He shot a glare when Won-shik playfully pinched his cheek, not that it did anything. It never did. “What happened to that cute little boy who would always listen to me? He was so cute.”

“He stopped when he realized you were always talking out of your .”

Won-shik’s laugh bellowed off the walls, following him around like a dog as Sang-hyuk left the room, swinging an arm around his shoulders. The sight of the two together wasn’t anything new, most people merely walking around them without even looking up. While it was never openly announced, everyone knew Sang-hyuk was Won-shik’s favorite, the latter always coming around to bother Sang-hyuk when he could. Sang-hyuk had learned to ignore the majority of it at this point, barely even noticing the parasite latched to his side as he walked.

“You working with X39 today?” Won-shik asked. “Heard it finished its tune-up last night.” Sang-hyuk only hummed in response. “They already put out a list of things you need to check just in case.”  Sang-hyuk hummed. “It’s already in its file.” Sang-hyuk hummed again, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and Won-shik slapped his shoulder playfully.

“Would it kill you to even say something? I might as well be talking to a wall.” Sang-hyuk only shrugged his shoulders, a small smirk on his lips when Won-shik only huffed at him. But like he guessed, Won-shik continued to follow.

“Where are you going? You passed X39’s room.”

“I have to go see Joon-myeon first.”

“Wait, what? Why?” Won-shik caught Sang-hyuk’s wrist and held him back, his normally teasing eyes furrowed in an appearance of genuine concern. Sang-hyuk wasn’t sure when Won-shik became concerned about him, or actually cared enough to be worried, but it felt nice. In this lifeless lab, it was always nice to feel…nice. “Did something happen?”

“No. Hak-yeon wants to go shopping, so I have to get it approved.”

Won-shik’s concern shifted to general annoyance, letting him go with a roll of the eyes and a long groan. “Why do you let him go out so much? It’s so much work for everybody—why not just keep him at home?”

“No,” Sang-hyuk cut in firmly, glaring. “If he wants to go out, I’ll let him. I’m not going to force him to do anything.” Sang-hyuk refused to be like his father, keeping Hak-yeon locked inside all day. He had already forced his friend to do so much for him, he would never force him to do anything more. If he wanted to go shopping, he’d let him. If he wanted to go see a movie, he’d let him. Even if he wanted to just go out for a walk, Sang-hyuk would let him. It didn’t matter if people ridiculed him behind his back; he would continue to do it, if only to make Hak-yeon happy.

Won-shik knew there was no use arguing, shaking his head but letting the subject drop. “I know, I know, you and your precious Hak-yeon. I just can’t understand you. But whatever, you wanna do overtime go right ahead.” Won-shik gave a quick glance down the hall where Joon-myeon’s office was, faking a shiver. “I’ll see you later.”

Sang-hyuk waited until Won-shik was long gone before stopping outside Joon-myeon’s office, pausing before knocking softly on the open door. Joon-myeon whirled around from where he was filing papers away with a smile, his relaxed posture doing nothing to ease the nervousness building in Sang-hyuk’s stomach.

“Ah, Sang-hyuk! Come in.” Joon-myeon hurriedly sat down and motioned for Sang-hyuk to do the same, clearing away the loose papers spread across his desk. Sang-hyuk knew those papers held more information than he could even dream of imagining, so instead waited until he was done before sitting. Joon-myeon didn’t acknowledge his hesitation, just continuing to smile when he finally sat down. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Are you coming to get Hak-yeon’s shopping trip approved?”

Sang-hyuk couldn’t help the involuntary flinch at the mention of Hak-yeon’s name, pursing his lips as he gave a small nod. He should be used to Joon-myeon knowing everything by now, shouldn’t be surprised when he was already aware of Hak-yeon wanting to go out. But he wasn’t, and never could be. No matter how many times Joon-myeon smiled or talked kindly to him, he could never erase the image of that imposing shadow from his memory, scaring him to submission. While he was like that to everyone at first, Sang-hyuk had already been weak at the time, so the terror had stuck with him.

Even now.

“Is he just going shopping? I know sometimes he likes to go to the park for a walk.”

Sang-hyuk swallowed, watching as Joon-myeon filtered through a stack of papers to pull out the approval form. “No, he said he’s only going to shop.”

“That’s great! Hak-yeon sometimes goes to the strangest places to sight-see, it’ll be interesting to see where he goes this time.” Sang-hyuk’s fingers tightened around the fabric of his pants, his shoulders stiff as he allowed Joon-myeon to talk all he wanted. After years of working here, and dealing with almost everything one would have to deal with, Joon-myeon was one of the few things he was still wary about. The friendly way he acted was much scarier than if he sat there and yelled at him, his casual appearance hiding away everything and anything he could be thinking. Sometimes he did wish Hak-yeon went out a little less, if only so he wouldn’t have to come here so often.

“Okay,” Joon-myeon said finally, signing off the bottom of the form. Sang-hyuk pressed his thumb next to it as his signature, biting his lip. “So he’ll be all safe and happy for the trip, don’t worry. We’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No problem. It’s always nice for us, getting you to work overtime. I’m not sure where exactly we’ll need you at the moment, so I’ll probably let Won-shik assign it to you later. I know you two are close.”

“Yes, sir,” Sang-hyuk nodded, keeping his eyes down.

“But while I have you here, you can give me your progress report. You haven’t filed yours yet.”

“I-I’ve been busy. I was going to do it today.”

Joon-myeon nodded, resting his chin on his folded hands as if thinking. That damn smile was still on his face. “Right, Hak-yeon’s been sick.” That was true, and Sang-hyuk had been so, so afraid. It made it worse when he still had to go to work, unable to get a day off like Hak-yeon begged him to. Joon-myeon knew this, and the smile there only showed how much he enjoyed it. “You’ve been leaving right on time the past few days. Your work’s been slipping.”

Sang-hyuk’s eyes snapped up to see Joon-myeon staring right at him, the smile gone and his folded knuckles white. There was no joking now, nothing to hide the seriousness behind the situation. He had to tread lightly here. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I can stay late for as long as you need me to, to finish everything. I can even do all X39’s tests today, if you want me to.”

Joon-myeon leaned back into his chair, nodding away like everything was completely fine. Sang-hyuk hated that. “You don’t need to do that, even though it would be nice. Just stay a couple hours for the next few days to show your commitment, and you’ll be fine. Though you can tell Hak-yeon that it’ll be a while before you can go out for dinner. Who knows the next time when you’ll be free enough for that.”

Sang-hyuk gave no reaction as he stood up and bowed slightly, thanking his boss before nearly running out of there. It wasn’t until he was far away from the higher-up offices that the heavy weight bearing down on his shoulders faded, finally allowing him to breathe. He hated, hated, hated, that room, hated that man, and no amount of fake smiles and cheery words could take that away. He ran back to the break room to grab a glass of water, gulping the liquid as fast as he could to try and hide the way his fingers shook, his breathing tense.

He didn’t realize how long he stood there, fingers clasped around the empty glass, when another hand touched his shoulder, this time much gentler.

“Hey…you doing okay?”

His fingers loosened almost instantly, Sang-hyuk smoothing away the worry from his features until he could look Sung-jae in the eye. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need a minute.”

“I saw you coming back from Joon-myeon’s office. Everything okay?”

“Yeah…just had to get an approval form signed.” He left out Joon-myeon’s hidden threats, deciding it best not to worry the other further. A lopsided grin grew on Sung-jae’s lips, his hand squeezing Sang-hyuk’s shoulder.

“Is Hak-yeon feeling better then?”

That caused Sang-hyuk to pause, placing the cup on the counter to distract himself. “So…even you knew?”

Sung-jae pulled away apologetically. “Pretty much everyone knew. Joon-myeon was getting really upset at how you kept leaving right on time. We were all really hoping Hak-yeon got better—how is he now?”

“Oh, he’s fine. You wouldn’t even know he was sick, he wrestled me out of bed and forced me out the door. I didn’t even get to sleep till my alarm.” That broke the awkward atmosphere, Sung-jae snorting as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“You know, I don’t know many roommates that would wrestle someone out of bed. Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you two?”

Sang-hyuk rolled his eyes. There were very few people he was able to do that with; he was really thankful to have him. “I already told you, there’s nothing going on. That’s just the way he is.”

“And you’re saying you’d let just anyone crawl on top of you and tickle you till you got out of bed? Not to mention all the cuddling—”

Sang-hyuk hurriedly cut him off with a sharp smack to the side, glaring uselessly. “There’s nothing wrong with that! And of course I wouldn’t let anyone do that. Hak-yeon is just different.”

“And that difference isn’t anything special? Come on, just admit it. Everyone already knows.” Sung-jae started poking him as Sang-hyuk quickly walked away, grinning excitedly. “Sang-hyuk-”

“No. I’m not going to waste my breath when you refuse to believe me. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he shoved Sung-jae out of the way, “I have to do X39’s checkup.” That was enough to stop him, Sung-jae biting his lip to stop while moving back enough to give him room. It was a fact everyone who worked here knew, that even with the small respites that allowed them time to joke, work was the priority that came before everything else. No one would ever stop or ask why, only following along with their heads bent low and feet always moving.

It was too bad Sung-jae ended up working here. He was too bright for a place so dark.

X39 was waiting for him the moment Sang-hyuk opened the door, the technicians having placed him on the bed earlier. It was something that always secretly amused him, how they insisted they were all just machines and yet continued to supply the room with the basic human necessities. A bed, a mirror, a desk, a bookshelf filled with picture books; if someone looked in without any knowledge of what was going on, it would appear as a regular bedroom. It was mainly for aesthetics, yes, but their insistence on making them appear human did amuse him.

He let out a soft sigh as he made his way over to desk, nonchalantly flipping through the status reports lying on the desk. His fingers paused on the stack of forms he was supposed to fill out. “How are you today, Hong-binnie?” he asked, sneaking a quick glance at X39 when there was no answer. His eyes immediately fell on the thick cable plugged into his chest, his lips pursing at the sight. Of course there would be no answer; not when he was charging. He went over to the monitors placed next to the bed and ran his finger over the screen, clicking his tongue when he saw the other to be fully charged.

“Time to wake up,” he sang mostly to himself, his fingers expertly clasping around the base of the charger, one hand braced against X39’s back. He hesitated briefly as his eyes ran over X39’s body, taking in the sight before he had to turn him on and start his day. X39 wasn’t very talkative to begin with, nor did he do much, so it wasn’t the other’s current stillness that uneased him. There were many times Sang-hyuk had to wait next to the other while shut down. There was just something about X39 that affected him more than the others, more than anyone.

He ran his hand through X39’s soft hair, thoroughly cleaned and styled beforehand, his fingers tracing down to the tip of his chin. The skin felt soft, real, so unlike the synthetic one they developed. He dreaded the day they decided to replace all his skin. “Good morning, Hong-bin,” he whispered before detaching the charger with one swift motion.

Instantly X39 shuddered, the programmed startup settings kicking into gear. Sang-hyuk grabbed the status report and quickly sat in the chair, wanting to appear ready and alert when X39 woke up. He watched as something flashed in X39’s eyes, a soft blue glow that faded to human brown ones, each joint cracking and creaking as he moved his limbs this way and that. It was so inhuman, so strange, yet it was so familiar Sang-hyuk actually felt eased by it, slapping on a small smile as recognition finally shined in X39’s eyes, hands coming down to rest on his knees in approval.

“Good morning, sir,” came out X39’s soft voice, so small and sweet, unbefitting of a cyborg.

It took Sang-hyuk a second to respond. “What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’, hmm? Just call me Sang-hyuk.”

He could see the information being saved, X39 freezing to process his words that he had done many times before. All the small things Sang-hyuk taught him on the side were always wiped when he went through any company-assigned tune-ups. It was more annoying than anything; yet a small, still human, part of Sang-hyuk was still able to feel sad about it.

“I see, I am sorry. Good morning, Sang-hyuk.”

“That’s better. You better not let me catch you doing that again,” he joked, mustering up the happiest grin he could to show he wasn’t serious. Yet X39’s only reaction was an apology, expression nothing more than a blank stare. Sang-hyuk’s smile disappeared, noting down that X39 still was not able to register joking. He looked up, making sure to maintain eye contact. X39’s eyes shifted to watch him, the only thing that moved as his body sat immobile. “How have you been?”

“I am fine.”

“Are you really?” The question caught X39 off-guard, a brief pause before the answer.

“I am fine.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure.” He wrote down a few more things before he placed the clipboard down, leaning forward as he pressed his fingers against X39’s open chest cavity. Cold metal met his fingertips, the bundle of wires and lights that kept X39 functioning humming silently. He knew that beneath the metal was a sensitive battery that powered everything, replacing the heart that had once steadily beat, and Sang-hyuk wondered briefly what it would have been like to see that. It probably wouldn’t be worth it.

“We can close this for now,” he said gently, closing the doors and clicking it shut, leaving only an expanse of synthetic skin that almost looked normal. He picked up the spare shirt he kept in the desk drawer, never able to leave the cyborgs like the others. “Here, put this on. You must be freezing.”

“I do not feel cold like you.” Yet he slipped the shirt on anyway, the soft cotton catching briefly on his ears. It was so human-like, so normal. He couldn’t count how many times he’d seen Hak-yeon do the same thing, hearing the latter grumble about the effort. He had to shake his head to keep focused, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah, but I feel cold just looking at you.” He waited to see X39’s reaction, and added to his list when X39 only stared. “Now let’s get the easy tests out of the way, those won’t take too long.” He grabbed out his penlight, shining it in his eyes and watching the way the eyes didn’t dilate. He poked the eyeball and hummed when the eye didn’t blink, X39 only sitting obediently for him. No changes there.

He went through the simple vision and hearing tests, finding no changes. He ran his hands over the other’s skin, waiting to see even a hint of a flinch or a response to the physical stimuli, but like always, there was nothing. No changes there. Everything was pretty normal, nothing different from the tune-up save for the new battery and clean skin. Sang-hyuk liked these tests; they were simple and required no thinking or caution. He wished they could be longer. But they weren’t, and soon he and X39 were staring at each other in silence.

Now for the less exciting part.

“Okay, I need you to lift your left arm up, right to your shoulders.” X39 immediately did so, holding his arms out without so much as a shift in weight, the arm so still. It didn’t bother Sang-hyuk though, too focused on checking the joints. He helped X39 through the routine, bending the arm at the elbow and listening to the soft creaks that came along with it. He frowned, sighing softly. He’d probably have to schedule getting a replacement soon. “Do you feel anything pulling when you bend your arm?”

“No.” He watched as X39 lifted his arm above his head, the shoulder joint catching briefly. Yes, he’d have to get that replaced soon. He wasn’t sure how this wasn’t fixed during the tune-up; how annoying. “I am sorry.”

Sang-hyuk didn’t look up as he ordered the cyborg to stand up, hands on X39’s unmoving hips as he watched him turn at the waist. “For what?”

X39 leaned back at the waist, his eyes never leaving Sang-hyuk’s face. “My arm is not perfect.”

“Oh, that’s not your fault. It’s whoever’s lazy did your tune-up. But we’ll get that all fixed up.” He kept a hand on X39’s chest as he had him lean forward, deciding the choppy way he moved was good enough. At least there was no creaking. “Now reach down and touch your toes. Let me see how your shoulder moves.” X39 did as told, his shoulder popping out of the joint for just a second before settling back in place. It was unsettling to say the least, watching the grotesquely disjointed movement, and Sang-hyuk was really starting to wonder how it passed through. “God, sometimes they’re so goddamn lazy down there. You’d think they’d be more careful with you, since you’re so special and all. Here, move your arm in a circle, let me see.”

Again the shoulder popped, and again it settled in place.

“I am sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Sang-hyuk felt along the edges of the shoulder, the skin over the slight dip where the arm connected with the chest cavity squishing under his fingers. He was used to the feel of the synthetic skin and how fake it felt, but there were still times when it actually squished around that his stomach still flipped. “Okay, I found where it’s having the problem. I’ll put it in and they’ll hopefully have you fixed up by tomorrow. Why don’t we finish up the rest to see if anything else is wrong.”

He thoroughly checked through the rest of X39’s limbs, working through his hip and leg joints to see if there were any problems. Luckily there weren’t any, Sang-hyuk falling back into his chair with a loud groan. He hated doing checkups, mainly because he wasn’t really qualified to figure out if anything was wrong. It was only times like these when the technicians really ed up that he could find something. He groaned again.

X39 watched him, his hands back on his knees. “I am sorry.”

Sang-hyuk leaned back so he fell against the backrest of his seat, rolling his head over to glare at the other. Not that X39 was capable of understanding what a glare was. “Why do you keep apologizing?” When the other didn’t answer save for repeating his apology, Sang-hyuk realized that more might have been affected from the tune-up than just the arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

“You have already asked me that question.”

“What?” Sang-hyuk sat up, brows furrowing. “I did?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“You asked how I have been. I said I am fine.” There was flicker of something in X39’s eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared, the eyes following the way Sang-hyuk turned his chair to face him fully.

“But I didn’t ask that way. How is it the same question?”

“You are asking for the same answer.”

“But they are asking for different things. Even though the answer is the same, there’s a difference. You believe it is the same thing?”

“Yes.” Sang-hyuk frowned, chewing on his cheek as X39 stared at him, expressionless. Ever since Sang-hyuk was assigned to X39, to keep track of his improvements and work through the kinks, the ability to improve and expand had disappeared. Nothing ever changed, his processing capability stunted. Even something as simple as this, to realize ‘how have you been’ and ‘are you okay’ to be the same type of question was a huge improvement.

What changed?

“Okay, sorry if I asked the same thing. But you are acting differently today. Did they mess with something while fixing you up?” There was no response, not that he was really expecting one. Open-ended questions like that always tripped X39 up, left him unable to figure out what the correct response was. Sang-hyuk honestly should know better. “Okay, sorry, yeah, that probably confused you. Here, what did they do to you?”

“Changed battery. Replaced skin. Upgraded system-”

“Wait, they upgraded your system?” Sang-hyuk hurriedly skimmed over the status report, frowning even further when there was no mention of any upgrade. Without another word he opened the compartment on X39’s left arm, plugging it into his computer. X39 watched all the while, not forced to shut down when only connected through his arm. “Do you know what kind of upgrade it was?”

“To improve mental capacity.”

“That doesn’t tell me much,” he grumbled mostly to himself as he scrolled through the list of updates, most of it an unintelligible mess. He hated when they changed things on him like this without telling him, especially now when they didn’t let him know afterward. How was he supposed to improve anything when they secretly changed things on their own? “Okay, what changes were made to your brain?”

“To better hold memories. To better processing human language. To better connecting the brain to nerve receptors.” Sang-hyuk paused, glancing forlornly at X39’s hands and remembering just earlier the test for touch failing. Looked like that didn’t work.

“Anything else?”

X39 didn’t answer, and Sang-hyuk was about to assume nothing else was done when he spoke up again, a waver in the voice catching his attention immediately. “Could you…tell me the story?”

“The story?” Sang-hyuk asked in surprise, the shock almost catching the words in this throat. X39 was not capable of asking questions, of even speaking, without being approached first. Even then, the questions it could ask were only ones that involved something it could see physically. But to ask for something that didn’t end with a simple yes or no, to ask for something that would result in Sang-hyuk doing something for him, was beyond his ability.

In all the years he worked with him, X39 never asked such a thing before.

He realized X39 was still waiting for an answer, and Sang-hyuk slowly ran his fingers over the keyboard as he carefully fell back into his chair. He mulled over what exactly to say, still stuck on the fact he asked a question, eventually drawing out, “Which story, X39?”

“The little boy. The one in the woods.”

Sang-hyuk nodded his head, hurriedly trying to understand what was happening without giving anything away. “Do you like that story?”

“Like?”

He backtracked. “Do you want to hear it, right now?”

“Yes.” Silence followed, the only sound filling the silence being the slight beeping from the computer as it continued to scan through X39’s system. Sang-hyuk glanced around reflexively, having to remind himself that the subject rooms were not audibly bugged. Something was wrong…and it had nothing to do with the tune-up.

“Ah, well…I don’t think we’ll have time for that today.” X39 stared at him, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. “They gave me a list of things to do today, and I need to let them know you need your arm fixed-”

“I understand. Do not mind, Han Sang-hyuk.”

Sang-hyuk waited a whole minute before realizing X39 was not going to say anymore, his following behavior as Sang-hyuk continued back to normal. He wanted to continue thinking something was wrong and follow through with it, to question him more and figure out what it was exactly. But as he unplugged X39’s arm and finished through the progress report, that desire lessened until there was nothing left. He could just say it was a blip in the radar, just a quick slip due to the messy updates they gave him. He could easily say there was nothing wrong, was perfect save the arm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as his hand lingered on X39’s head, the cyborg already shut down and unable to hear him.

It was easier that way, simple; nothing bad would come his way and he could go home with no worries hanging over him. As bad as that was, he had no problem with it.

He hated himself.

It was already late when he finally emerged from X39’s room, rubbing his eyes as he went off to send the notification to get the cyborg’s arm fixed. Time always flew by when he went in that room, the day seeming to pass around him in a blur that left him feeling as if it had only been a minute. It was good, didn’t let him think too much about anything else. He always had too much on his mind. And yet, it made him sometimes wonder where that time went, feeling his life slipping through his fingers and having absolutely no power to stop it.

“Finally finished, are we?”

He barely turned his head to see Won-shik leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he watched Sang-hyuk file the notification. Sang-hyuk stiffened, his shoulders bracing when he heard the dangerous tone in the other’s voice. He didn’t know why Won-shik was currently cold, the man’s mood swings sometimes unexpected, but Sang-hyuk knew not to disregard it.

He kept his voice level. “It took a while. His shoulder joint was broken, so I ordered it to be fixed.”

Won-shik didn’t say anything as he pushed off the wall, coming closer as if to see if he was telling the truth. Sang-hyuk kept as straight a face as he could, knowing he had nothing to hide, staying still until Won-shik finally stepped back. “Was anything else wrong?”

“Not that I could find. His movements around the waist were a little choppy, so those parts might have to be replaced soon.”

“Okay, I’ll let Joon-myeon know. You know the technicians won’t do unless you explicitly tell them.” A lazy smile finally appeared on Won-shik’s lips, the air of caution still running thickly through the air. It was stifling, and Sang-hyuk was just starting to wonder if they figured out X39’s strange behavior, or that he didn’t tell them, or if they were tired of him never having results and just offing Hak-yeon, when Won-shik suddenly slapped his shoulder playfully. Sang-hyuk jumped, painfully ripped from the darkening depths of his mind, and Won-shik snorted. “There you are. I can still make you jump if I try hard enough.” Won-shik laughed alone, immensely enjoying the sight of Sang-hyuk uneasy.

Sang-hyuk purposefully didn’t answer, annoyance and anxiety filling him with no escape but through the animosity of his glare. That only seemed to amuse Won-shik even more. “You’re so cute when you try to glare. You have the voice and face of a baby; you’ll never be scary, unfortunately.”

Sang-hyuk did his best to ignore him. “Did Joon-myeon tell you what I need to do?”

“Oh, yeah. He said to just go help feed the test subjects and record their progress.” Won-shik reached up and tickled the tip of Sang-hyuk’s chin, a gesture that wasn’t as scary now that Sang-hyuk was taller, but still just as taunting. “Nothing too hard.”

Sang-hyuk swallowed as he kept the disinterested tone he normally used, keeping his glare and hiding his tight fists behind his back. “I see. Thank you.” Whatever it was about his expression made Won-shik laugh again, patting Sang-hyuk’s head like a child before walking away without another word. Sang-hyuk watched him go, holding his breath until he was long gone before finally releasing a stifled sob that echoed loudly down the empty hall. It was strange, and random, but it was all the more Won-shik.

No matter what, Won-shik still knew how to work Sang-hyuk, was still able to slide through the wall of disinterest he tried to keep up and leaving him a heaving pile of emotions he couldn’t even begin to handle.

He could feel himself slowly falling apart as he made his way downstairs, the edges fading as the indifference he hid behind crumbled. He knew there was a reason Joon-myeon and Won-shik sent him downstairs, and it wasn’t because they wanted to be nice. It was the first time in weeks he was going there, usually avoiding the place as much as he could because he was absolutely terrified of it. They knew he was scared, and sent him down there any time they wanted to punish him.

He felt a small part of him chip away each time one of the interns down there waved at him, or bowed. He couldn’t stand looking at the lines of human sized tubes on the tables running across the room, the little window on each allowing him to see all the people hidden inside. Every face reminded him these were real people, that they had family and friends who were worried about them. And each face only reminded him that these people would never wake again, would never be the same again.

Because it was his job to break them down and rebuild them, to put them back together, regardless if some pieces were missing.

“Is that you, Hyuk?” Sang-hyuk looked up from where he was loitering by the door to see Sung-jae grinning at him, fingers wrapped around an IV bag connected to one of the tubes. Sang-hyuk sent a small wave in response, watching as Sung-jae excitedly handed the bag to an intern to run over to him. There were flecks of blood on Sung-jae’s cheek and spots of food mixture on his coat, but Sang-hyuk tried to ignore all that as he did his best to smile back. “Did they assign you here? Are we going to work together?”

“Yeah. I’m supposed to help you feed the subjects.”

“So we are working together!” Sung-jae moved to grab his hands but stopped short when they both saw the blood on his fingers. Sung-jae gave a nervous laugh as he quickly shoved his hands in his pockets, instead gesturing with his head to follow. “We actually were ahead of schedule, so most of the subjects were already fed. The interns are recording the progress, so you don’t have to worry about that. You can help me finish feeding, and if we’re quick we could even sneak out early.”

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Sang-hyuk joked, and Sung-jae laughed happily, the sound chipping another piece away.

“You know why they keep me down here; I’m the fastest when it comes to feeding! I can get everything done by the time it takes you to even feed one.”

It was true, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “That’s good then. You can do all the work and I’ll just watch.” It took Sung-jae a second to register what he said, giving a good-natured whine as he handed Sang-hyuk a coat and rack of IV bags.

“I wish you worked down here. It would be so much more fun then.” Sang-hyuk didn’t say anything as he followed, Sung-jae going back to the intern he left. The girl stared at them with wide, innocent eyes as she quickly passed the bag back as if it burned her. Sung-jae didn’t seem to notice, or more likely ignored it, thanking her cheerfully and continuing as if he never stopped. “You can start on the next row. You should remember how it works, right?”

Sang-hyuk caught the eye of the intern, the girl looking so pale and small and familiar, and he hurriedly looked away as he went to do as told. He wanted to be done with this as fast as possible, to get away and hopefully never have to come back. Not that it would ever happen. “Yeah, I remember,” he mumbled. Sung-jae snickered behind him, the jarring sound of the bag clip snapping echoing in Sang-hyuk’s ears.

“I don’t know why you don’t come down here more often. You actually help me and you’re fun to talk to.”

“You know why,” Sang-hyuk muttered as he went to the closest tube, switching out the IV bags and checking to make sure the subject was being fed. There have been times the IV didn’t work, and the subject died. Joon-myeon was always extremely angry when that happened.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to give the shots, you could just help me feed them and go through the reports. That can still be fun.” Sung-jae’s voice was light and happy, just asking for Sang-hyuk to talk with him. But he couldn’t. He knew it was rude, Sung-jae only trying to make small talk, but he just couldn’t. He was having a hard enough time already just being down here.

He grabbed the next IV, his hands jumbling as the bag caught on the latch, and his eyes fell on the window of the tube. He froze, his breath short.

A young girl stared back at him, her face peaceful as the drugs they filled her with forced her into a deep sleep. She didn’t look much older than himself, her hair billowing around her like a pillow. She was so small, so pale; his fingers gripped the bag so tightly they went numb, trying his best to empty his mind so he wouldn’t start imagining what she would look like if she was awake and smiling. Even if he wasn’t the one that gave the shots that put these people in this position, he couldn’t ignore how at least half weren’t here willingly. He couldn’t imagine how this girl ended up here.

Cold fingers suddenly rested on his own, and he blinked up to see Sung-jae next to him, for once his expression serious. “You can’t look. It’ll only hurt you.”

Sang-hyuk nodded sadly, tore his eyes away from the sleeping girl to fix her IV and make sure everything was fine. “…she’s so young.”

“That’s why you can’t look. It’ll only make it worse.”

Sang-hyuk knew that, and was usually pretty good about forgetting. It was just those times when he remembered that felt like a thousand needles stabbing into his heart.

It was well into the night when he finally stumbled home, his eyelids heavy and his body shattered. Without even a second thought, he went immediately to Hak-yeon’s room, quietly peeking inside to see him sound asleep. The sight calmed Sang-hyuk’s nerves, Hak-yeon’s profile softly illuminated by the nightlight he insisted on using, his skin glowing. He watched the subtle rise and fall of Hak-yeon’s chest, making sure he really was alive before finally backing away and leaving him alone.

He flicked the kitchen lights on to see a small plate of food on the otherwise clean counter, a small note placed beside it. Tears wetted his eyes as he sat down, smiling wistfully at the dinner Hak-yeon left him despite telling him not to. He always took care of him, always put Sang-hyuk before himself. There were times he felt he wasn’t good enough for such love, and there were times like now where he reveled in the feel of it. His eyes landed on the note, his fingers running over the small piece of paper.

Make sure you eat! Don’t stay up too late!

A chuckle escaped him at all the smiley faces littered over the note; he loved Hak-yeon, he really did. He was so much more than a friend, so much more than even a boyfriend or lover. He was Sang-hyuk’s guardian, Sang-hyuk’s closest confidant and companion; he was the parent and brother he never had, the friend he always dreamed of having, the voice of reason he never developed himself. He was everything and anything, and no amount of Sung-jae or Won-shik teasing him would ever change that.

Especially when it was his fault Hak-yeon was here in the first place.

He didn’t bother changing or washing up before just going to sleep, feeling every bit the small child as he climbed into bed with Hak-yeon. It wasn’t often he did this, wasting no time burrowing his face into Hak-yeon’s neck, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him close. Hak-yeon shifted, his eyes blearily blinking open to look down at him, groaning softly as he immediately rolled over to hug him back. Sang-hyuk basked in the attention.

“You home, Hyukkie?” Hak-yeon asked, words slurred. His hand moved up to tiredly run through Sang-hyuk’s hair. He sighed at Sang-hyuk’s lack of response. “So late…”

“I told you I’d be working late.” Sang-hyuk pulled Hak-yeon even tighter to himself, laughing softly when the other let out a small grunt.

“Did you eat? I left you dinner.”

“I did. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Sang-hyuk.” Hak-yeon sleepily kissed Sang-hyuk’s forehead before falling back asleep, his hands falling listlessly by his side. Sang-hyuk didn’t move right away, listening to the sound of Hak-yeon’s heartbeat and feeling tears decorate his cheeks at the soothing sound. He laid there, holding the only thing he loved in the world, wishing he could give him everything without constantly lying behind a false smile. The things he did, the things he does; the blood on his hands was always dripping, always following, and he wished he could touch Hak-yeon without feeling like he was staining him.

But of course, even if he knew, Hak-yeon would still forgive him, still love him, and Sang-hyuk truly felt he didn’t deserve him.

“Thank you, Hak-yeon,” he whispered gently into Hak-yeon’s ear, closing his eyes and feeling all the crumbling pieces of himself slowly mold back together under the warm hold of Hak-yeon’s embrace.