Chapter Text
“Jimin, we’ve gotta go.” Namjoon rocked on his heels, standing just to the right of Jimin. It was a new, fresh day over the city, the sun at least trying to make things look nicer, more positive as it fought against the bitter chill in the air. At least it was trying. That was all you could do in the seventh sector. Try.
“Just one minute longer Namjoon, that’s all,” Jimin paused. “Please?” He would’ve looked back at him, but he didn’t want to draw his eyes away from the yellow sunbeams painting their way onto the windows of the high rise buildings. He had the perfect view, and maybe it wasn’t the best for secrecy, but that didn’t matter in Jimin’s eyes. It was just pretty, prettier than any painting. Not that he’d seen any in his life to know.
Namjoon wavered slightly. Stupid AI, knowing how to say please and thank you… “I don’t want to be late Chim.”
“Late for what?” He sat down, crossing his legs as he kept his eyes trained on the sunrise.
“Arm appointment.” He looked down at his left arm, not even bothering to clench his ‘hand’ into a fist. He knew it wouldn’t work, but he needed it to. And fast.
“Can’t you just fix it yourself?” He leant back, ice blue eyes staring up at him. “I could help, I’m sure there’s some tutorials that I could download-”
“Two things,” Namjoon put his hands on Jimin’s cheeks, trying to bring him back down to earth. “One, no, I want you to stay off the radar so that means?”
“No downloading things.” Jimin sighed, almost a touch too dramatically. He was always dramatic, Namjoon would change it if he could.
“And two, your eye is lazy.”
“Huh?” At that, his eyes widened as he batted Namjoon’s hands away from his cheeks. They were pink from the cold, puffed out from the offense.
“Right eye. Lazy. If you hurry up, we’ll go get it fixed.”
“I thought you said I was staying off the radar?” The smirk that was plastered onto Jimin’s face would be impossible to wipe off.
“I can trust these people to keep a secret.”
Jimin was hesitant, though he didn’t argue. Namjoon knew best after all. He sat up, leaning over the edge ever so slightly to look down at the street. It was all so grey down there, but still so busy. The city was just waking up after all. There was no colour, no hope, there never would be. Just a sense that things were bad, and only getting worse by the second as more people entered the system. Could they complain though? They were alive at least, and what more could they ask for?
“I’ll bring you back up for the sunset Chim, I promise, okay?”
“Pinky?” He looked back at him, eyes sparkling. Well, as much as a robot’s eyes could sparkle.
“Pinky promise.” Namjoon squatted down and held out his pinky for Jimin to wrap his around.
“Will we stay out long enough so I can see the stars? There could be a meteor shower tonight Namjoon, you know I’ve never seen one before!”
Namjoon smiled faintly at his unbridled optimism. It was desirable, people would pay a high price to have someone like Jimin talk about the positive parts of life, especially in a society when all people could focus on was the negative and the borders that defined them. “I doubt it Chim.”
“Please.” He huffed this time, chest puffing out as he tried his hardest to persuade him to step over to his side of the agreement.
“If there’s no drones around, then sure.” The black haired man smiled at the expression on his face, all puffy and cute.
Jimin grinned and intertwined his pinky finger with his. “Good.”
*:･ﾟ✧
“Hoseok, did you throw the spare decks away?” Yoongi poked his head out of the door of his workshop, squinting at the sunlight. He liked to work in near darkness, as ironic as it sounded. He just found it easier to concentrate on the task that he had to do. On the other hand, the receptionist liked to keep the entrance and waiting area bright. Skylights and windows polished as clean as they could be. It looked different to the rest of the city, like it belonged in a higher up sector and away from the mess that was the seventh sector. Then again, you could say the same for Hoseok. That he belonged somewhere else, a place better than here. But Yoongi really didn’t need to feel that guilt on his conscience right now, he really didn’t. Not when he had to live with it every day, see a smiling boy who didn’t really belong with him.
“Huh?” Hoseok looked up, smile turning on like a light switch. Always putting on a show, trying to ease all of their worries away.
“Decks. The spare ones. Did you throw them out.” God, decks were the bane of Yoongi’s life. It wasn’t illegal not to have one, but it sure made your life easier. They were like the phones of the country, having texts, calls, maps, games and even a way to get food delivered to where you were standing all pre-installed and ready to use. The government, as shitty as it was, would practically hand them out for free if you’d lost yours. So some people would conveniently ‘lose’ their decks and have them accidentally land into the hands of the conveniently placed sellers on the black market. If it gave them food for another day, then the crime was worth the reward. You could have them in your watch or glasses, and if you had the money you could install them inside your wrist, or palm, or anywhere in your body. Yoongi only hated them because they were an absolute ass to install. And the fact that the government used them in other situations. It was a convenient way to catch people trying to cross into another sector, the different colours being obvious to anyone trespassing, so all in all, a pretty good invention from the tyrants that looked over the country. Yoongi still didn’t have to like them.
“Only the corrupted ones, don’t even know why you wasted your money on them Yoongs.”
“I thought they were good, alright!” Yoongi huffed and stepped out of his workshop, shutting the door behind him.
“Well, they weren’t!” His voice was sing-song, a ray of stupid, stupid positivity. He clearly didn’t grow up in the seventh. “Who’d you buy them from?”
“It was just a new seller, down by the corner of Walker Street.”
“Wow, the shadiest place in the market, well done.” Hoseok scoffed and flipped the page of his magazine.
“Shut up,” He flopped down into a sofa by the door. “Is it just bookings today?”
“Namjoon was supposed to be here like, ten minutes ago.” Hoseok glanced up at Yoongi, trying to judge the situation based on his facial expressions. As always, unreadable. The perfect poker face.
“I’m gonna kill that little brat.”
“Please don’t. I’ve cleaned up enough blood in my life.”
“Fucking liar, you can barely hurt a fly.” Yoongi scoffed and looked back at him.
“Hey! I was raised on the streets, I’m a big guy, fought my way to get here!”
Yoongi froze up, barely enough to notice. But Hoseok knew Yoongi, knew he’d crossed a line, done yet another stupid thing that he’d beat himself up over later on in the day.
“Yoongi, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” He stood up, stretching up ever so slightly. It clearly wasn’t. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably still be out there like a little orphan boy.” Yoongi smiled. He wasn’t the best at diffusing a situation, nothing like Hoseok, but he sure tried.
“Yeah…” Hoseok looked back down at his magazine. “Namjoon just needs some wires tightened, I can do it if you want?”
“It’s fine,” He repeated. Everything was always fine. “I’ll do it. Titanium right?”
“Yeah.” The awkwardness in the air was thick, you could cut through it with a fucking butter knife.
“Hey!” Just in time. Namjoon opened the door, grinning with his classic dimpled smile. Jimin trailed behind him, hoodie zipped up, baseball cap on.
“Namjoon!” Hoseok looked up, his smile coming back just as quickly as it had disappeared as he jumped out of his seat. “Who’s your friend?”
Jimin was looking around, eyes widening with every second that passed. It was amazing to him, how humans could care about how pretty a place looked. The light that shone down reminded Jimin of the way that the sun hit the buildings, painting everything in a soft golden glow that made it all seem like it was home.
“Jimin.”
“Huh?” Jimin pulled his hood down, looking at Namjoon with an expression that couldn't quite be placed. His voice had snapped him out of his little daze, bringing him back into the room.
“Say hi.” He looked between Yoongi and Hoseok. “Yoongi and Hoseok.”
“Or Hobi. Whatever you want to call me, Yoongi used to call me Hope when we were like fourteen, so you can use that if you want!” Hoseok smiled and held his hand out for Jimin to shake.
The shorter one of the two looked Jimin up and down before turning on his heel with a scoff. “I’m ready when you want me Namjoon.” He walked back towards his workshop, disappearing into the darkness.
Hoseok sighed and watched him leave. “He gets like that sometimes, just ignore him.”
Jimin shook his hand, putting it back at his side when the whole affair was finished. He tried not to make it too awkward, he really did. “I-”
“He just gets a little defensive when it’s this early in the morning,” He sat back down in his seat behind the desk. “How’ve you been Namjoon?”
“I’ve been alright. Busy with work, but that’s normal.” He shrugged.
“What’re you working on?” Hoseok reached for his coffee.
“Just things, no major projects yet.” That was a lie, Jimin was more than a major project.
“You expect me to believe that? You’ve always got something going on,” He spun around in the chair. “Always bigger and brighter than the next one.”
“Nope, just doing stuff to pay the bills Hobi,” He looked down at Jimin. “Coming in?”
“Yeah.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
“I’ll see you when I’m done Hoseok.” Namjoon smiled, walking up to Yoongi’s workshop.
“Yeah.” Jimin smiled and nodded and went to follow behind him, making sure that his eyes stayed trained to the ground.
“Hey, uh. Is it rude to ask what sector you’re from? I just, don’t normally see people with coloured hair who come from around here unless they’ve been saving for months.”
Namjoon’s froze. Fuck. Fucking blonde hair, fucking hair dye being so expensive… Fuck!
“Uh…” Jimin rubbed his arm, looking down at the ground. How was he supposed to answer that, when he didn’t even know himself?
Hoseok frowned. There he was, ruining the atmosphere yet again, always asking questions that weren’t needed. “I- It’s fine. I get it, sensitive topic.”
“Yeah…” Jimin picked at a hole in his pocket. He’d put it in himself, tried to make it look used, make himself look like less of an angel.
“Namjoon, come on! I want to get you over with!” Yoongi’s voice was practically melting in impatience, almost close to snapping.
“Come on Jimin.” Namjoon smiled and held the door open for him.
Jimin looked up and nodded. “Bye Hobi.” He looked back at Hoseok, trying to look a little happier.
“I’ll see you when you get out, silly.” Hoseok scoffed. If Hoseok was a gambling man, he’d place a bet that Jimin could probably fit into the first sector with a face like that.
Jimin turned on a smile and walked away, into Yoongi’s workshop.
Namjoon sighed and shut the door behind him, his eyes meeting Yoongi’s. “What?”
“You’ve made a massive fucking mistake.” Yoongi scowled at Namjoon.
“Wait. What?” Namjoon paused, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention.
“You think you’re subtle?”
“I…” Namjoon opened his mouth like a confused goldfish, before closing it again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked at Jimin, the robot smiling awkwardly back at him.
“It’s all good making a robot that looks like a human, but it’s kind of shit when it doesn’t have the intelligence to roll up its sock. You can see the charging port.” He pointed at Jimin’s ankle, and he was right. A tiny metal circle was embossed into the inside of his ankle.
“Well shit.” Namjoon sighed.
“Is he some sort of sex bot? Made to look hyper realistic?” Yoongi sat down on his stool, leaning back onto his work desk. It was messy, to say the least, ice cold coffee cups and blueprints with measurements made in faint pencil lines were scattered everywhere. It matched Yoongi though. An organised mess, one that hadn’t been cared for.
“No! No he’s not!” Namjoon scrunched his nose up. “He’s just, a robot.”
“One you made look like a human? What’s the fucking point of that?” Yoongi sighed and rubbed his forehead, probably silently nursing one of his endless stress headaches. “Sit down on the bench.”
Namjoon did as he said and sat down on the bench, rolling his sleeve up. He’d had the hand done and covered up with a skin like material for free, but Hoseok didn’t have the rest of the resources to do the rest of the arm. He probably wouldn’t get it covered any time soon, it was a luxury that only those in the higher sectors could afford. And Namjoon had given that life up a long time ago. “I didn’t just make him look like one Yoongi…” He looked up and back at Jimin. He’d made his way over to the window and had already stuck his head out of it, blonde locks falling over his eyes for a chance to see the cloudless sky.
“What else did you do…?” Yoongi started to work on Namjoon’s arm, tightening wires and occasionally tapping reports onto his tablet.
“I gave him emotions.”
“Bullshit.”
“I did Yoongi, I really did. You think I’d lie about that?”
Yoongi sighed, twisting the mechanism in his arm. “Can I just put a casing on it? The wiring won’t get broken then.”
“It’s fine. I can’t afford it,” Namjoon sighed. “All my money went into Jimin.”
“Wow. That’s an incredibly smart idea.” Yoongi smirked. The sarcasm was just dripping from his words.
“He’s good though, right?” He looked up at him, head tilted ever so slightly.
“I’m presuming he sticks to the rules?” Yoongi glanced at him, sitting in the corner. He would climb out of that window any second now.
Namjoon pursed his lips together, looking down at his arm. “Well, about that…”
Yoongi looked up at Namjoon, eyes questioning. “Don’t tell me you-”
“He doesn’t?”
“How. How in the fuck?” He leant back against his desk again, picking at his sleeves.
“Number one, he’s slapped me before, hard. Number two, he never fucking listens to me. Number three, he’d jump in front of a car for me.” The lump in his throat was hard to swallow, and it was putting up a damn fight to try and ignore.
“You could get arrested Joon, for letting him have feelings, letting him break the rules,” He rubbed his head. “You know that right? What if you get stopped on a random check up and they press behind his ear?”
“The power down button is on his collarbone, I’m not stupid.”
“You could get killed if you get caught!” The rules on robots were few, but strict. Always keep the power down button behind the ear, turn them off when visiting government controlled areas, make sure they have metal exposed and the most important? Make sure they obey the basic rules of robotics. Everyone knew them, whether they wanted to or not. One, a robot must not harm a human. Two, a robot must obey all orders a human gives it. Three, a robot must protect its own existence.
“And I won’t get killed, because I have ways to not get caught.”
“You’d be sent straight back to the first sector, killed for all the rich pricks to laugh at. Then you’d just be a news title.”
“I won’t. Get. Caught.”
“Fine,” Yoongi sighed. “How much did you spend on him?”
“A couple thousand.”
“Fucking hell…” That was a lot of money in the seventh, an inconceivable amount. Probably enough to tip one of the guards, get passage to at least the fifth sector.
“It’s not that big a deal-”
“Are you going to sell him? You could give him to a research lab, they’d probably pay millions.”
“And make the first section think I’m alive again?” Namjoon scoffed. “Funny joke.”
“So you’re just going to keep him a secret?”
“What else can I do?”
“God knows,” He shrugged. “Make a fist?”
Namjoon clenched his hand up, sighing with relief. The little stabbing pain was gone now. “Thanks. How much?”
“Free.” Yoongi tossed his tool onto his bench, clearly not giving a shit. If it broke something? It broke something.
“Yoongi, you did a good job. I’m not taking this for free.”
“Fine. It’s free, if I can look at Jimin a little closer.”
Namjoon sighed and slid off the bench, looking at Jimin. “Jimin.”
No response. He was too busy with the view outside of the window.
“Jimin.”
“Wow, your robot is so smart,” Yoongi smirked. “Maybe he’s worth less than I thought.”
“Jimin!”
Jimin yelped, hitting his head on the window frame. “Namjoon!” He turned to look at him, a pout on his lips.
“Yoongi wants to look at you, come on.” Namjoon patted the bench.
Jimin huffed and walked over, sitting down on the bench.
“Please don’t download anything onto your tablet.”
“What? Why?” Yoongi looked up at him.
“I don’t want his code to be seen by anyone, not even Hoseok.”
“Oh…” Yoongi nodded. Normally, he’d tell Hoseok everything. Guess that some secrets would have to be kept.
“He can’t know that he’s a robot. Got that?”
“Sure, sure,” Yoongi hooked a finger under Jimin’s chin, tilting it from side to side. “You want me to fix his eye, right? It looks fucked.”
“Yeah, please.”
“It’s not that bad!” Jimin finally piped up, chest puffing out in indignation for the second time that day.
“You’ve admitted you can’t see from it Jimin. Hush.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but shut it, pouting instead. “It won’t hurt, right?” Jimin shifted, looking between Namjoon and Yoongi. His nerves were eased a little when Namjoon nodded with a reassuring smile.
“He has pain receptors?”
“Yeah.” Namjoon looked down at his arm again. Yup. It was working better now.
“How’d you get them shipped here? I thought they only made them in the third district.”
“I took stuff before I left,” Namjoon leant against the wall. “I’d rather not talk about this Yoongi.”
“Barely escaped being a runaway, didn’t you?” Yoongi slipped his hand up Jimin’s shirt, looking for the button. “So mysterious.”
Jimin looked at Yoongi. “You want me to power down?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Cool.” He smiled before going limp in Yoongi’s arms. His eyes faded from the bright blue they used to be, to a simple brown.
“He can do it by himself?” Yoongi looked at Namjoon.
“Mhmm.”
“Nice.” He laid Jimin down and started to work on his eye.
“This eye is shit. You steal that too?”
“Yoongi.” His tone was stern when he talked to him, always the same, never different.
“No,” Yoongi propped Jimin’s head up and started to work. “You never told me how you got out. I’m your best friend, I expect better.”
Namjoon scoffed. “Hoseok’s actually my best friend. Get it right.” He tried to change the subject. He really did. But when it came to Yoongi, it was hard to take his focus away from what he wanted.
“So I know you can just freely go into lower sectors, but the whole arm thing? That confuses me.” He stuck his tongue out as he adjusted one of the wires inside of Jimin’s eye.
Namjoon flinched at the memory. Flinched at the pain. If he had his way, he’d still have a working hand. One to hold, one to work with, not some shitty piece of crap that he had to get fixed every other week. “Can we not Yoongi?”
“Just tell me why! You just appear here and don’t expect me to wonder why?” He wasn’t mad. Just tired. Yoongi had lived long enough with not knowing the truth about people, not trusting people, the only exception to that being Hoseok.
“No Yoongi! Get it into your head that I don’t have to tell you everything about my life! You’re not exactly a martyr yourself, you know. You’ve never told me a thing about your childhood.”
Yoongi looked up, eyes even blacker than usual. “That’s because I didn’t get to have one,” He slipped his hand under Jimin’s shirt again, turning him on. “Your robot’s fixed, get the fuck out.”
Namjoon pursed his lips together, not breaking eye contact with Yoongi. “I’m sorry.”
“Heard it all before, sometimes that isn’t the truth,” Yoongi switched his tablet off, placing his tools back onto his desk. “Now can you get out?”
Jimin sat up, looking between the two of them. “Huh…?”
Yoongi looked at him. “Get off the bench, Namjoon needs to go somewhere.”
“Oh, sure,” Jimin smiled. “Thank you for fixing my eye.”
“Does it work now?”
“Mhmm,” Jimin swung his legs off of the bench and hopped down. “Can we stop off at the market before we go back home?” He looked up at Namjoon, eyes flickering to that crystal blue.
“Yeah, sure.” The taller one sighed ever so slightly.
“Cool,” He walked towards the door, opening it. He didn’t even squint at the light difference, it didn't affect him in the slightest. “Bye Yoongi!”
“You have no idea what i’d pay to have such endless optimism. You have no idea what people would pay Namjoon.”
“I’m not selling him Yoongi.” The nicknames were dropped. The mood in the air definitely didn’t call for them right now.
“Then guess you’re the idiot here.”
“Sure,” Namjoon sighed and walked up to Jimin, gently patting his back. “Zip up your jacket, and pull your sock up.” He whispered softly, he knew that his voice would carry up to the front desk if he wasn’t careful.
Jimin nodded and did as he said, being slow and steady with the zipper. He hated when it got caught.
Namjoon looked over his shoulder. “I’ll see you Yoongi.”
“Yeah.” He looked out of the window.
Namjoon shut his eyes for just a second, before walking around Jimin. “Come on,” He walked back up to the front, smiling at Hoseok as he got to the desk. “I’ll see you next time Hobi.”
Hoseok looked up from his magazine, smiling his heart-shaped smile. “Which will be when?”
Namjoon scoffed slightly, his robot appearing at his side. “Tomorrow? In a week?”
“So I’ll just see you when I see you.” Hoseok huffed ever so slightly, partly a joke, partly in annoyance.
“Yeah,” Namjoon nodded. “Bye!” He opened the door for Jimin, letting him walk out first.
Jimin pulled his hood up and walked out, looking up at the sky, as grey as it could be. Every day, he’d wish that it would be blue. Even just for a moment.
Namjoon stood by his side, putting his hand on his back again. “Market?”
“Yeah. Market.” He smiled back at him. The little beam of sunlight in the grey city.
*:･ﾟ✧