Chapter Text
02 February 2123
[2.5 Kilometers until your destination]
Specialized Android unit SR-2171 flicked away the GPS popup that appeared in the corner of his vision, instead pulling up the file for his next client on his HUD display in preparation for his upcoming meeting while he walked.
Kim Gyuvin
Age: 20
Height: 186 cm
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Occupation: College Student – Department of Engineering
SR-2171 furrowed a brow at that particular piece of information, as most people who hired his services were from a significantly higher tax bracket than a typical college student, and there was a much cheaper android club – I-land – closer to the college that due to its price range and proximity, was statistically used far more by college students and recent graduates.
But maybe the man just had a thing for foreigners, as Boys Planet did have a larger than average number of androids made to resemble people of Chinese or Japanese ethnicities, much like SR-2171 himself. But he knew it wasn't his place to hold an opinion about the matter. He wasn't getting paid to make assumptions about his clients, well technically he wasn't actually getting paid at all, but his company was, and SR-2171 knew intimately the punishment he would receive if he didn't leave the customer feeling happy and satisfied after his visit.
So, he tamped down the burgeoning hint of curiosity tickling at his supercomputer of a brain as he climbed the steps to the clean, yet slightly outdated, apartment building in front of him, which was marked as his client's current address, efficiently loping up the five flights to Kim Gyuvin's floor, a feat that would've likely left any human sweaty and winded, but for SR-2171, it only dropped his overall battery percentage by 0.02%.
Once he arrived in front of the unassuming door of Kim Gyuvin's apartment, SR-2171 took a single second to check to make sure his appearance was in order, running a careful hand across the gray polyester suit of his Boys Planet uniform, marked with a single pink accent that delineated him as an android of a foreign make and model, before lifting his hand to his face and dissolving the layer of synthetic skin to check his reflection in the white metal underneath.
And as always, there was not a single hair out of place. He looked absolutely perfect in that slightly inhuman sort of way that no human could possibly ever replicate.
Deeming his appearance inspection now complete, he allowed the synthetic skin to ripple back out across his palm before he leaned forward to rap on the door in front of him with two polite taps, just as he was programmed to in these situations and waited patiently with a banal smile on his face as a cacophony of loud crashes sounded from the other side of the thin door.
Exactly 15.7 seconds after he had knocked, the door was thrown open, Kim Gyuvin, with fluffy auburn hair instead of the black he sported in his profile panting against the door frame with wide surprised eyes, his face pink with exertion, and SR-2171 could tell from a quick scan that the man’s heartrate was elevated above normal levels. His eyes flicked up to the blue LED flashing in SR-2171’s temple, then down to the serial number stretching vertically down his neck like a tattoo, an indication of his non-human status, his brows knitting together with confusion at the sight.
“Uh, who are you? I didn’t order any packages.”
SR-2171 activated his customary introduction programming, the synthetic skin across his cheeks tightening as he smiled, “Hello, I am the android sent by Boys Planet, model SR-2171, but you may call me Ricky."
Ricky bowed his head politely before extending his hand for a handshake. Instead of receiving one in return however, Kim Gyuvin guffawed at a decibel exceeding the posted signage for the apartment building’s listed quiet hours and squinting at him curiously.
“This is some kind of joke, right? I didn’t hire a service android.”
Despite knowing this man was in fact Kim Gyuvin, he did a secondary scan on the human just to confirm, before pulling up the details of his order, reciting them in a monotonous voice.
“Client Kim Gyuvin for the timeframe of 3 hours on 02 February, 2123. Order placed on on 01 February, 2123 by one Sung Hanbin.”
Ricky willed away the customer profile obscuring his vision before glancing back over towards Kim Gyuvin with one eyebrow raised, “You are Kim Gyuvin, are you not? My external scan shows that you are. Although you should probably get your identification photo updated, as your hair color is currently incongruous with what is reported in your profile.”
Instead of responding back, Kim Gyuvin seemed to be completely ignoring him, his hands digging through his pockets frantically, and it didn’t take Ricky’s superior deductive reasoning module to know that he was looking for his phone.
“It’s in your back left pocket.” Ricky sighed, the LED at his temple flickering yellow for a brief moment before once again flashing blue.
“Huh?”
“You’re looking for your phone, right? To call Sung Hanbin. Because he ordered me for you without asking?”
Kim Gyuvin gaped, “How did you-”
Ricky tapped the LED at his temple, “I’m an android, remember. I’ve been equipped with state of the art inductive and deductive reasoning modules, along with various machine learning databases to help decipher human body language and behaviors to interpret the best course of action. These features are generally used to help meet client’s needs without them having to ask for us to perform certain duties, but they do come in handy in other situations too.”
He wasn’t entirely sure why he decided to disclose this information to Kim Gyuvin, as while it wasn’t confidential per se, it wasn’t exactly something most clients wanted to know about, that Ricky was constantly cataloguing their every expression and action to add to his ever-growing database of knowledge in order to better service them or others like them in the future.
But there was something about Kim Gyuvin’s shining, doe-like eyes that even within mere seconds of their meeting that made Ricky want to try a little bit harder than he usually would in situations such as these.
For some reason, Kim Gyuvin just seemed different.
“So, Kim Gyuvin, can I come inside now? Unless you’d like all your neighbors to see you with a service droid on your doorstep?” Ricky stated without inflection, not really caring much either way, but he had already determined that Kim Gyuvin was one who certainly cared about how other people viewed him, and there was a 79.34% chance that pressing in exactly this way would grant the android entrance to the man’s home, so his contracted 3 hours could actually begin.
Kim Gyuvin choked, his head whipping around to look at his neighbors firmly shut apartment doors before pushing his own door open wider, his face lighting up a furious shade of red as he allowed Ricky entrance, “You can come inside, I guess. Sorry, I’m usually a much better host. You were just unexpected. ”
Gracefully, Ricky padded inside, taking in the various pictures on the wall in a single glance, his internal scanners identifying the people in the photos automatically.
Kim Gyuvin, sometimes with dark hair, other times with shades of reddish-brown, squeezed into the frame beside the constantly reappearing faces of Sung Hanbin – 23, Graduate Student, Seoul National University , Han Yujin – 17, High School Student and the rest of the Kim family. He noted absently that Kim Gyuvin shared his mother’s shining eyes and his father’s small face and tall build.
“If you just want to sit here. I’m going to go make a quick call.” Kim Gyuvin stammered, gesturing towards a dark gray couch from the 2120 Seoul Student Furniture catalog that looked like it had seen better days. An unidentifiable gray lump curled up on one of the cushions, which piqued Ricky’s curiosity, as it wasn’t often he was unable to identify something on first glance. He hoped it wasn’t an issue with his scanner, otherwise he would need to submit a ticket for repairs, again , which often took weeks to be resolved.
Thankfully, the unidentifiable form quickly revealed itself once Ricky took a seat, the small head of an Italian greyhound peeking up at him, a small dainty collar around the dog’s neck reading ‘Eumppappa’.
In less than 0.3 seconds, Ricky had conducted a quick Naver search on how to approach dogs, quickly parsing through the relevant information until a trend started to form.
He blinked away the dozens of opened webpages clouding his vision as he tentatively extended a hand, wiggling his fingers at the small creature.
“Hello, little one.” Ricky cooed lightly, and when the small dog leaned forward to sniff Ricky’s synthetic skin, he felt his lips twitch in an uncontrolled motion, an error message blipping into his eyeline before disappearing just a quickly.
Ricky dismissed this as a random visual glitch, something that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary given the sheer number of times he had been reset, as he reached out and stroked along the dog’s velvety flank, all 5,000 of his touch receptors, far more than that of a human, reveling in the novel sensation of the dog’s fur beneath his fingertips.
Of course, that was the moment that Kim Gyuvin decided to return from his phone call with Sung Hanbin, which Ricky had resolutely not been listening in on. His hearing was too fine tuned to not overhear Kim Gyuvin’s boisterously loud voice, but his internal programming instantly deleted all non-relevant sounds the second they entered his mainframe, as eavesdropping was expressly forbidden by Ricky’s own programming. So even if he had wanted to know what Kim Gyuvin was saying to Sung Hanbin on the phone, his own code prevented it.
“Oh, she likes you!” Kim Gyuvin stated, setting his small tray of pastries down on the table with surprise, his attention flicking between Eumppappa, who was now cuddled up against Ricky’s thigh and Ricky himself.
Ricky ignored the surprise in Kim Gyuvin’s tone, instead addressing the plate of food sitting on the table, “Is that for me? You know androids don’t need to eat, right?”
Kim Gyuvin blanched, his entire face going stark white, his eyes dilating and his heartrate spiking to the point that Ricky was near moments away from dialing the paramedics, worried that the man might be having a sudden onset blood pressure spike caused by a pre-existing condition.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about it. It’s a habit. I’ve never had an android over before, so I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t mean to be rude.” Kim Gyuvin babbled, looking torn between bowing down at Ricky’s feet and throwing himself out the nearest window.
Ricky pasted on his comforting smile, the one that was scientifically proven to be calming to people in distress, “It’s okay Kim Gyuvin, I really don’t mind. It was just a silly mistake.”
Thankfully, Ricky’s de-escalation techniques worked, and Kim Gyuvin’s breathing returned to more suitable levels as he flopped onto the couch beside Ricky in an exhausted heap, startling Eumppappa from her seat pressed against Ricky’s side, the small dog leaping down to the floor instead. The heat sensors in his thigh noted the loss of his own personal space heater, which irked Ricky more than he cared to admit, but he kept his placid smile on his face.
“So, I talked to Hanbin, and he said since he already paid and because you’re already here it would go against the contract to cancel but-” Kim Gyuvin fidgeted with his fingers awkwardly, avoiding Ricky’s eyes in a way that Ricky knew belied the human’s nervousness.
In less than a quarter of a second, Ricky browsed through all relevant files on comforting people in distress before ultimately settling on placing one of his cool, pale hands on Kim Gyuvin’s knee.
Which apparently was exactly the wrong move, given the way the human all but leaped away from him, his heartrate spiking yet again, his eyes blown wide with… was that fear?
“I don’t want to have sex with you!” Kim Gyuvin blurted out from his incredibly strange position perched on the armrest of the couch.
Ricky blinked as his AI adjusted to the new information provided to him, the human’s unexpected skittishness suddenly making much more sense than it had moments before.
“You don’t have to have sex with me you know.” He replied calmly, his hands raised in the air in a placating gesture, hoping to soothe the human’s fried nerves.
Kim Gyuvin balked, squinting at Ricky dubiously, “What do you mean I don’t have to sleep with you? You’re a sex android. Isn’t that like your whole…” He gestured vaguely at Ricky’s entire body, “ Thing?”
If Ricky had been human, and prone to human emotional outbursts, he probably would’ve sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose in annoyance. But Ricky was an android, his every thought and action preprogrammed into him via millions of lines of code.
His actions were always predicable, expected. But something about the tone of Kim Gyuvin’s words sent a flare of something through Ricky’s circuits, the LED in his temple flashing a bright yellow before returning to its natural blue state as his lips twisted into a frown.
“Just because I am a sex android does not mean that it is the only thing I can do. All androids are coded with the same basic knowledge. I could just as easily have become a caretaker android or used for manual labor too dangerous for humans. I could’ve become an android idol or worked in a research lab. Being a sex android was a position assigned to me. And just because it is for all intents and purposes my job does not mean that it is the only thing I am capable of doing.
Kim Gyuvin, at least, had the gall to look incredibly flustered. His cheeks pinking as blood flowed closer to the surface of his skin, his arteries dilating wider as adrenaline coursed through his system.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He stammered, looking like he was mere seconds from dropping down to the floor again and bowing at Ricky’s feet, and honestly, Ricky couldn’t have that. It would be too much of a hassle to have to convince the man to peel himself off of the floor.
So of course, he had to intervene.
“I promise, I am not offended. I have surely heard much worse in my profession, and you have been nothing but kind up till this point. It was surely just a misunderstanding.”
Like a puppet with all its strings cut, Kim Gyuvin relaxed, the stiff set of his shoulders smoothing out as he slid off his perch on the couch armrest until he was once again sitting on the cushion next to Ricky.
“Oh, that’s a relief. I’m still sorry though. Even if you’re not offended. I shouldn’t have said it.”
Ricky hummed quietly in acknowledgement, already having come to the conclusion that Kim Gyuvin performed best when given positive feedback for his actions.
The human bounced awkwardly on the cushion a few times, his hands twisting nervously in his lap, “So, what exactly do we do then if we don’t, y’know, have sex?”
Figuring it would be easier to show rather than tell, Ricky quickly pulled up his standard contract, using the projector embedded in his left eye to project the words onto the coffee table in front of him, quickly scrolling through the lengthy document until he reached the relevant passage, highlighting the important information to make it easier for Kim Gyuvin to read.
“According to Section 13b.42, so long as no lasting damage is made to the android or to public property, and no explicitly illegal activity occurs the contract holder – that’s you - may conduct any actions with the android as they see fit.”
Kim Gyuvin blinked owlishly, the light of his projection reflecting off the human's wide, dark eyes as his attention swiveled between Ricky and the document projected across the table, a sly smile stretching across his face with every passing second.
“So, what you’re saying is I can do anything I want with you?”
Under normal circumstances, Ricky might have felt slight apprehension at Kim Gyuvin’s words, but given the human’s track record of not only apologizing to the android, but also bringing him food, Ricky surmised that Kim Gyuvin likely didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, so in all likelihood, whatever idea had just popped into his head was most likely of the benign sort.
“That is correct, Kim Gyuvin.” Ricky recited, nodding respectfully to the human who was all but vibrating in his seat in excitement.
“Really?! Oh, this is going to be so fun!” Kim Gyuvin exclaimed as he leapt from the couch, sprinting over to the hall closet until he unearthed a dark coat, a bright grin on his face. “Oh, and you don’t need to call me Kim Gyuvin, just Gyuvin is fine.”
Ricky wasn’t sure if it was his own internal programming, or something else, that caused his lips to curl into a responding smile as he stood from the couch, reaching down to give Eumppappa a quick little pat before walking over to stand by the door.
“So, then, Gyuvin , where are we heading?”
Despite having literally the entire internet, and millions of lines of code dedicated solely to predictive learning, Ricky never could’ve guessed that of all the placed Gyuvin could’ve taken him, that they would’ve ended up at an arcade of all places.
He stared incredulously over at Gyuvin, who was walking back from the coin machine, his circuits still trying to make sense of the absolute turn his day had taken.
“Here, these are for you!” Gyuvin said cheerfully, all but shoving a cup full of coins into Ricky’s hand, which he only managed to grab hold of off sheer reflex.
He glanced down at the coins, then back up to Gyuvin’s face, feeling, for what he thinks is the first time since he was manufactured, totally and utterly confused .
“Why are you paying for me to play? I’m an android, I could beat any game in here without even having to try. What’s the point?”
Instead of responding to Ricky’s question, Gyuvin just sent him a gummy smile and proceeded to trapse over to a two-player fighting game and inserted his coins before glancing back to where Ricky was still rooted to the floor, one eyebrow raised.
“Well then Ricky, if you’re so good at video games, why don’t you show me just how superior androids are.”
A strange zing flared through Ricky’s circuits at the challenge, his LED flashing a dull orange before returning back to serene blue. Because there was no way a human was challenging him to a contest he would surely lose.
Nobody could be that stupid, right?
But Gyuvin didn’t seem to be backing down, instead he just stared at Ricky fiercely, a glint in his dark eyes.
And once again, Ricky found himself absolutely baffled by Gyuvin’s strange behavior, all the knowledge at his fingertips and still he couldn’t manage to predict anything this human managed to throw at him.
It was almost, dare he say it, exciting, this n ot knowing what to expect. And well, he was supposed to make his client happy during their meetings, so if Gyuvin wanted to get dragged across the floor by a far more intelligent android, who was Ricky to stand in his way?
Despite not having bones in the human sense, Ricky cracked his knuckles theatrically before sidling up to Gyuvin’s side.
“Oh, it is on.”
Ricky mourned the fact that he had a built-in internal clock when midway through soundly schooling Gyuvin in a zombie shooting game, an alarm flashed at the corner of his vision, signaling his three hour paid session with Gyuvin was now complete.
In a slight breach of protocol, Ricky willed away the notification, since it would be a waste if they didn’t at least finish their current game, as it was already paid for after all.
Unfortunately, once the game completed, with Ricky’s score nearly three times that of Gyuvin’s, not that you’d be able to tell considering the absolutely ecstatic grin on Gyuvin’s face like he had just set the new high score, Ricky had to once again return to his designated duties, a flashing warning in the corner of his vision notifying him that he had less than thirty minutes to return to Boys Planet or else he would risk disciplinary actions.
“Gyuvin, I have to go. Our time is up.”
Gyuvin’s bright smile faltered, and Ricky felt a sting of something at being the reason.
“Oh, okay then. I guess I’ll see you around.” Gyuvin replied hopefully, tilting his head to the side in a gesture not unlike an overenthusiastic puppy.
Ricky’s gaze flicked up to meet the other man’s eyes, “Gyuvin, I’m a service droid. It’s not like you’ll just see me walking around town.”
He hadn’t thought it was possible, but Gyuvin practically wilted at Ricky’s words, and Ricky would blame his programmed conflict resolution protocols for making him say what he said next,
“If you want to see me again, you’ll just have to order another session with me.” He extended his hand, a sleek, black business card popping out of his palm, which he deposited gently into Gyuvin’s sweaty hand, closing his limp fingers around the card so wouldn’t lose it.
Gyuvin ogled Ricky oddly, likely confused by the sudden gesture before he glanced down at the business card clutched in his grip, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets at the prices listed in gold filigree along the bottom of the card, but when Gyuvin looked back up to meet Ricky's gaze, he saw the hardened steel of resolve flickering in the human's dark gaze.
“It may take me a bit to save up enough to pay for you again. But I promise, I’ll take you up on that offer. I still haven’t shown you how good my dance skills are yet.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the old school Dance Dance Revolution machine collecting dust in one corner of the arcade.
“If it’s anything like your zombie hunting skills, I’m sure you’ll need all the practice you can get to even come close to besting me.” Ricky teased, drawing on his knowledge of how same-aged friends often acted around each other in popular culture according to all the latest K-Dramas, to poke fun at the human, who was now pouting at him with mock hurt.
“Just because you’re an android with some sort of built in dance program doesn’t mean you can replicate all this .” Gyuvin gestured down to his own lanky form, his hands waving wildly in the air like he was trying to swat a particularly pervasive fly.
“If I’ve learned anything about you today, I’m sure no program on Earth can replicate your particular style of dance.”
The notification in the top left corner of his vision flashed a violent red, indicating that if Ricky didn’t leave now, he would likely face significant consequences for showing back up at Boys Planet after his allotted time. Already as it was, he would have to increase his walking speed from 4.82 km/h to 5.6, and his programming capped his walking speed at 6 km/h in populated areas because there was nothing more unbecoming than an android sprinting through the streets, so if he didn’t leave soon, there would be no way he’d make it back in time.
“Gyuvin, it was nice meeting you. But I really do have to go if I want to make it back.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you. You should probably be getting home soon. Or back to wherever it is you live.” Gyuvin babbled, his cheeks tinging pink, as he all but shoved Ricky towards the door of the arcade, “See you soon Ricky!”
For some reason, Gyuvin didn’t decide to follow him out, the taller human stalling right in front of the glass door as Ricky walked out onto the street alone, the synthetic skin on his back feeling oddly cold without the warmth of Gyuvin’s hands on his spine.
As he pulled up his internal GPS to direct him back towards Boys Planet, Ricky caught sight of Gyuvin standing in the window waving wildly, a broad grin splitting his face, and Ricky couldn’t help but smile in return, his hand coming up in a small wave as he walked away.
As soon as the arcade was no longer in sight, Ricky couldn’t resist accessing Gyuvin’s file, easily able to navigate through the busy Seoul streets even while the document partially blocked the vision in his right eye. He quickly scrolled down to the bottom, for the section meant for androids to leave future notes on the chance that client would like to use the service again. Generally, notes were simple, 'X likes it when you call him hyung', 'Y prefers that shirts stay on during intercourse', and so on.
But, on the off chance that Gyuvin really did hire Ricky again, he couldn’t resist the urge to leave a small note for the future version of himself to see.
[Input file addition]: Woefully bad at shooting games
As he closed out Gyuvin’s file, the Boys Planet building already in sight at the end of the street, and Ricky found the smile that had been plastered on his face since he had left the arcade slowly melting away. Each step closer towards the company building constricting his chest like a vise. Because the second he stepped through those doors, there was a very real chance he would never see Gyuvin again if the other boy didn’t hold true to his word and hire Ricky again like he promised.
Ricky approached the entrance to Boys Planet with exactly 37.3 seconds to spare, a bland, impassive expression on his face, giving away absolutely nothing. He slowed his pace as he neared the storefront, eyeing the android with peach hair dancing to a catchy Korean girl group song in a large fluffy sweater slipping down off one shoulder, exposing the serial number etched onto his collarbone, KT-EH2H, that marked his ethereal beauty as something wholly man-made.
He avoided the android’s attentive gaze, likely scanning him for his own make and model as he pushed open the door.
“Hello! Welcome to Boys Planet! How may I assist you?” The brunet receptionist android at the front desk chirped cheerily, before he glanced up from the computer in front of him, that was more for looks than anything, considering that even the cheapest android models had far better processing power than any standard desktop.
“Oh Ricky, you’re back!” Hao grinned, his blinding white teeth on display as he rounded the counter to come clap Ricky on the shoulder, something that was definitely against protocol, but Hao had been the company’s biggest earner for nearly three years running, and did more to manage the general day-to-day of Boys Planet than any of the human management ever did, so the higher-ups tended to turn a blind eye to the android’s flagrant disregard for his programming at times. “How was the client?”
Ricky sighed, “You know you’re not supposed to ask about that.”
Hao’s question, as innocuous as it sounded, went against nearly a dozen different disclosure agreements, anonymity acts, and android-client confidentiality clauses. How Hao was able to circumvent the programming that kept his own tongue tied, Ricky would never know. But he had long since given up trying to understand the quirks that made up one ZH-2507.
He tried to ignore the other android as he made his way back towards his designated stasis pod, but the older android was nothing if not persistent.
“Oh, come on Ricky, I know you want to tell me how it went.” Hao practically begged, his lip bulging out into a pout, but Ricky remained stalwartly silent, even though he very much did want to divulge how much he had enjoyed his very non-traditional outing with his client, but unlike Hao, Ricky had not yet figured out an opening that allowed him to override that particularly stubborn bit of code that kept his mouth all but glued shut.
“At least tell me if you had fun.”
Surprisingly, the blare of warnings and alarms inside Ricky’s head didn’t go off at Hao’s words, and the android found in shockingly easy to nod in reply, seemingly stumbling across a loophole that allowed himself to express his true thoughts without stepping on any of the numerous legal bindings holding his tongue.
It seemed Hao was thinking much the same as Ricky, if the way the other android promptly lit up in response was anything to go by. “Well then, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself Ricky. You certainly deserve to have a little bit of good in your life every once and a while.”
Before Ricky could turn to ask Hao what in the world he meant by his words, Ricky’s stasis tube was popping open with a quiet hiss, the flashing yellow light on the top of the device blinking in time with the notification on Ricky’s screen.
[Android SR-2171, please step forward.]
Unable to fight against the prompt, Ricky’s feet unceremoniously guided him into the cold, sterile environment of the tube, completely unable to even utter a goodbye to Hao as his programming took over and drove him forward.
Just as the glass began to slide back into place, Ricky managed to catch sight of Hao on the other side of the tube, his full, plush lips drawn down into a harsh frown.
But unwillingly, Ricky remained rooted in place, even as dreaded indicators began to flash in front of his vision, utterly helpless to stop their progress.
[Memory reset in progress… do not turn off the device.]
[Memory reset in progress… do not turn off the device.]
The last through Ricky had, before his memories of the last few hours were scrubbed from his hard drive, was that Gyuvin had an absolutely radiant smile.
And then… nothing.