Work Text:
TIME OF TRANSACTION: SEPTEMBER 5TH, 2122, 9:48:06 PM
RENTED ITEM:
MODEL 070323, NAME: RENJUN
DURATION:
04:27:46
VALUE:
945.00 USD
Mark stares at the log on his watch, the only source of light in his office is the holographic display of his receipt. The turquoise colored LED reflects off the dips of his cheekbones, the dark of his irises, the shine in his hair.
It's been over two weeks and he can't forget the feeling of it. The warmth burned into his calloused fingers. What he knows is soft, artificially heated silicone, a system programmed to give to the sound of his voice, spots calculated and pinpointed to replicate sensitive pleasure.
Mark has never rented an android for that precise purpose. He can't believe he went through with it in the first place. There wasn't any will to fight against the simple urge, he didn't need to be convinced (Chenle has already tried in the past), he took one look and his head, maybe even a part of his heart too, had already decided for him.
Renjun, a complex model, one of a kind in constructed visual design, emulated voice and beautiful body type, Mark read up on the file, its blueprint along with the stages of prototypes. Twenty other models, no build was the same as another, all unique in their own right; they consist in a single batch. A new line of service androids promoted to cater to upper class individuals who lack what some would say 'the intimate touch of another human being.'
Mark recalls the article coming out, winter of last year, teasing what was said to be a project highly anticipated mostly amongst the more well off men in the business world. Chenle, reading over his shoulder snorted, stated "Pretty sure you're the demographic they're aiming for."
Mark remembers twisting the skin on Chenle’s elbow and kicking him out of his office. Mark now sees in a less clouded vision, knocked down from his high horse, he played exactly into his role of that target audience. Young, wealthy, with too much time on their hands and easily swayed. It took a single look.
Mark almost feels like his person was scanned, essences put under a microscope, researched to a tee when they created the two-toned hair, narrowed shouldered, lithe figured android he'd lay his fingers under.
He's broken all his own principles for what Mark can't even call a person, just an experience. A semblance of titanium, electrical parts and steel, all packaged in the most enticing exterior. The final touches of very thin coverage lets the crafted body and the human imagination speak for itself. He knows it's nothing personal but it all feels like such a low blow to his dignity. Mark remembers the way it arches its back off the sheets, pressure in-between its center, Mark buried deep and repeating the motions. The sound conjured right from its system is scarily baring, terrifyingly intimate, Mark’s head that night mistakes it for something real.
Renjun is the definition of smart and extraordinarily crafted merchandise. Lulling even Mark Lee, Son of CEO and founder of LMC Tech Company, known amongst the young rich to decline similar pleasures. Mark's already heard there's a rumor going around about it. It's one thing to foolishly indulge in a service android, that's not what makes it gossip worthy, it's the standing fact that the android he'd given in to was explicitly a competitor's. He failed to notice that fact the night of, too engrossed in his own physical appetite. The android Mark foolishly lusted for wasn't produced under his father's name. The information at the forefront of his mind makes his skin crawl. If his dad finds out, on top of him ignoring all the urgent messages he's been adamantly sending, Mark is a goner. His father might actually disown him for his idiocy.
Mark knows there's no stopping if the word gets out. For now, his fate is stalled, it's the least of his problems now. Considering his parents are overseas on business, they're too caught up in themselves to care about Mark's self indulgent blunder. What's keeping Mark up at night in horror is the thoughts. The playback of fleeting bliss.
It's not real. Mark mutters under his breath as he works over the pile of paperwork on his desk. Mark imagines the emulated flesh, jarringly tender, the plumpness practically melting in his palms. When Mark slips his fingers into the entryway there's a moistness, a slide that wouldn't be there if the motions were with something real, likely it's here to 'enhance the product's usage' but the fact it pleasantly surprises Mark in the heated moment of desperation gets his skin hot underneath his dress shirt, a stiffness tented in his slacks. Mark almost salivates at the idea yet again for the fourth time this week. He reminds himself of the fact he already knows. Not real. He'll never see the android again anyway.
A couple months from now, the one of a kind model he pictures in his head, underneath his body weight, will be plastered in catalogs. He'll be under options, reproduced in batches to cater to others, not just Mark. The thought makes his chest tight with a childish feeling he refuses to acknowledge.
He mentioned the experience to Chenle the morning after that party. He nearly spits up his lunch. He eagerly attempts to work the thoughts out of Mark on his endeavors and Mark casually shrugs. He plainly explains "it was fine, felt pretty good I guess." but that front is all a facade, an understatement, a down play to the pure ecstasy and yearning in his chest.
Mark isn’t letting this get to him. He's too old to daydream over what he wishes were real. He'll get over it when he buries his head into his work. He'll never look for the bot again after it's publicly released. Eventually he'll lose his fixation by then and it won't be special to see other people hold the image of his beautiful distraction.
He doesn't realize just yet but it's a fruitless pot of lies he keeps telling himself.
"Did you hear?" Jeno joins them during a rare weekend dinner. Chenle gets Mark shoved out of his house with one hell of a fight. He's only won because of his additional reinforcement. Jeno is a pillar Mark one on one can barely take, with the combined effort of Chenle; he's rendered useless to their plans.
Mark sips at his white wine. He's uninvested in the conversation, more invested in the chandelier carefully constructed of geometric stars and projected holographic shapes above them, spinning under warm light. Mark skims his wrist watch's apps. Universally, it's rude to do so, his harsh blue screen ruins the atmosphere but Chenle already has him here against his will, he doesn't care to keep appearances up in front of them.
The sound of his friends' voices are rendered into a dull ring as he scans the wait service. They're all androids produced by his father's company. His dad's words echo through his ears, our tech is miles more elegantly designed and crafted. Mark always thought his dad was full of himself but the unconscious image of silver mixed with dark locks in his vision makes him mutter. What does it matter when we weren't the ones who made him?
He knows that thought is cusping on delusion. He's well aware he's lost it over advanced hardware in fake skin. But he doesn't have to tell anyone about whatever this is, and that alone lets himself believe he still has a slither of pride.
"Hey-" Mark winces at the pinch on his arm, flinching when Chenle frowns at him.
"What, what? I'm listening." Mark murmurs, though it's very obvious he wasn't.
"Okay, repeat what I just said, Mr. I'm listening."
Mark looks between the two sets of eyes on him and grumbles a sound. "That's what I thought." Chenle kicks his dress shoe under the table before reexplaining the situation.
Mark reluctantly listens, almost naturally giving to dissociation instead, that is until his ears perk in the process of the sound to his brain. Mark nearly hits his leg on the table, almost standing but refraining so because he needs to hear that again.
"They're getting rid of them."
Mark insists he repeats it yet again and Chenle raises his brow at the sweat slowly showing itself on the sheen of Mark’s forehead.
"They're getting ripped for parts. Apparently that batch of service androids that were supposedly an exclusive sneak peek had a malfunction. I heard all production has stopped and they're tossing them out entirely."
Mark listens, head unable to wrap the details over his own inner turmoil.
"Are they reusing the models? The designs? The voice assets?" Mark tries not to let his tone give. His outer shell is cool, despite what his clenching gut feels.
"Nope. They're scraping everything apparently. They said that the party we went to two weeks ago was a beta test of their product. One bot ended up rejecting the advances of a person who rented it and they deemed that enough to shut the whole thing down."
Mark’s throat feels as if it might close in on itself, stopping his breathing, skin burning at the thought.
"So all of them, gone? Just like that?" Mark must sound uncharacteristically panicked over machines considering he works heavily around the business of android production. One slip up and some projects done over the course of months, maybe years, they have to be put to an immediate stop. Android production is fickle. They need to come off human but not too human. There's the threat of how they act on their own with the implemented AI. The whole intention is for them to be self-sustaining, intelligence expanding base off connected databases and real behavior they pick up or perceive. If an android teeters too close to the sun, an awareness foreign to what's programmed; It was made wrong, deemed a malfunction.
Mark completely understands why they would shut down the project of the service androids. Tools, a play thing made for sex that refuses said function. It shouldn't exist.
Mark’s breath shakes at the image of Renjun. The memory of the droid spitting every honey doused response installed in its systems to get Mark putty in its lifeless body of metal bones. Mark remembers Renjun’s ability to flirt with ease. He remembers stupidly asking for permission to which the android stared quietly, Mark assumes it's program is looking for the rare instance someone naive like Mark brings out the question. He smiles, warm, too warm to feel real and tells Mark he wants it. He wants him.
Renjun doesn’t really want anything. That's not a choice he gets to make. Mark wonders if he could, would he still have let Mark have his way with him.
"Are you okay?" Chenle nudges. Mark has been staring off into space, face pale, appetite ruined. It must show.
"I'm fine." Mark plays with the cut steak on his plate, heart beating under a force of anxiety bubbling in his throat that he can no longer fend off. There's a flash of Renjun being ripped apart just like the generic models he's witnessed every week while overseeing projects his father has put him under. It was a jarring experience at first but he thought he'd be numb to it by now. Any other face doesn't cause Mark to flinch but the thought of Renjun’s on the nightmarish tear of wires makes him sick to his stomach.
Get over it. Stop thinking about it. Nothing you felt that night was real. A short-lived distraction was all it was meant to be, not this unhealthy hyper fixation.
Mark shoves the last of his meal into his mouth, insisting he wants to leave soon. Chenle and Jeno exchange glances but they don't question it. Mark gets home that night, sleep doesn't find him. He's perched over the bowl of the toilet, overwhelming nerves get the best of him and his expensive dinner is chucked back out his throat. Mark rubs his face, unable to pinpoint the root of his distress.
Mark lays awake that night, the image of round cheeks, pursed lips, silk like hair falling over his round irises is permanently burned into the underside of his eyelids.
He feels inhumanly ill. He can't accept it as the ache seeps into his person, a pool of his own foul emotions, he can't put into words. All Mark knows is never seeing the android of his desires ever again might eat him alive from the inside out.
Mark has been into the ILUM Industries building before, not to his father's knowledge, not to anyone's knowledge. The old routine was secret, forgotten, he planned to take it to the grave with him. The fact is only known to himself, the rare time a security guard found out and that person he's tried relentlessly erasing from his memory.
Mark didn't think three years later he'd come back to what feels like a relapse. He works on a mask, a cap, hoodie and a pair of jeans before he enters through the glass sliding doors. He makes it to the front desk, handing a note over to the android along with his ID. The single touch tells her she's already scanned and called the person Mark was intending to see.
She tries to direct him but Mark moves faster than her words, off towards the elevator on the trip he isn't unfamiliar with.
There's a ding, the reflective glass wall opens up and Mark isn't surprised by the man standing here instead of waiting in his office for him.
"Mark, It's been awhile-"
"I know what you're thinking. I'm not here for you. I still mean what I said before. I came for something else."
Mark doesn’t like the watchful gaze he's given, the eyes on him boring past his weakly guarded cover of being here, asking for something he will undoubtedly be ridiculed for on his way out later.
The taller man gestures Mark to follow, and Mark trails a foot behind, his vision set over the wide frame of his back, the way fabric wraps over what Mark remembers to be tense muscle.
Mark is led into a remodeled office, that's to his own knowledge. The body in front of him doesn't sit across at his own desk, he leans his backside onto it, arms crossed and waiting.
Mark swallows the lump in his throat. He feels just as nauseous as he did the night before he convinced himself to come here but for a totally different reason. Mark peeks around the desk, rather taken to looking at the surface than the person in front of him. The mess on it is to a minimum and the nameplate reflecting off the harsh light in the room catches his eyes.
Nakamoto.
Mark almost folds inward on himself at the thought of his old heart and his poorly aged eagerness to be here in the past. The memory of twenty years old, his lack of experience in the industry, his trust in a warm smile used against his deepest fears. He can't rewrite himself, especially the parts where he's fanned out bare over desks and tables in this exact building, willing to give his everything for someone who he was unaware didn't need him for anything more than his connection. Mark isn't that Mark anymore, he breathes, straightens his posture and opens his mouth.
"I want to purchase an android."
The male Mark used to consider had held his heart gently, quirks a brow, the smile growing on his face is dauntless but Mark finds it antagonistic. He wants to hurl all over again, onto the lavish carpet no less, he's not disencourage to for the price but for his own self-respect. He can't look weak just yet, he has to make it out with the thing he so desperately needs.
"I don't know if you're aware of this Mr. Lee but we have many in store and online options you can browse from within the comfort of your home. There's no need for you to meet me for that."
"Yuta…" Mark bites back the name, eye's closed, heart horribly held together with knots of loose string. "I'm here for an android off the market."
Mark’s whisper is an obvious giveaway to his shame. Yuta doesn't keep going. He laughs. His voice tender and Mark three years ago would have swooned at the sound.
"Right." Yuta lifts the watch band on his arm to open a pop up menu. "I was teasing. I know Mark."
Mark witnesses in discomfort, all his transaction info being expanded as Yuta swipes away minor tabs, flipping the display of his watch for Mark’s outward viewing.
The model is constructed slightly above Mark’s field of view in the makeshift of holographic blue. The spitting image of the android. Mark’s heart flips at just the synthesized sight of it.
"I oversaw these androids being made, so when we put them out at the Jeong's party, I kept tabs of who might seek to purchase one after their release." Yuta stares at the image of it, eyes raking over the modeled body with not a single ounce of curious interest, a stark contrast to Mark's telling eyes.
"Seeing one under your name, I thought someone might have committed fraud but now you're actually here, telling me you want an off the market android." Yuta's eyes glisten with something Mark can only see as ill-intended mischief. "You can't seriously think I'll sell this to you."
"Yuta please." Mark’s voice practically gives the second the words leave his lips. "This isn't some company related thing, I don't need it for what you think. You know I don't care enough about the business to do something like this."
"Then what's the reason?" Yuta's watch display collapses automatically when his arms fold over one another. He looks at Mark like he's scolding him, burying him under his judgment.
"I just- I need it." Mark’s tight lip can't admit to his shamefulness but Yuta doesn't seem to buy it.
"I need it because- I can't stop thinking about it. I heard what's happening to them and I can't just let him be thrown out-"
"Him?" He cuts Mark to repeat it, the slip of his tongue that Mark fears will make his case lose all its justifications. Yuta's mouth opens just a smidge, a sound of disbelief. "You've actually taken to the thing. I can't believe this."
"That's not it-"
"No, I can see all your delusions as clear as day. You've clearly lost it, Mark."
"Please, you don't understand!" The color in Mark’s face leaves his body the moment Yuta pushes off his desk as if preparing to walk away from this useless exchange. "Yuta, please, don't do this. I'm willing to do anything. Any price."
"Mark you might want to consider seeking some outside help, you're too young and what I previously thought, bright, for this."
"Yuta-" Mark tugs on his sleeve, stopping him in place. Mark surprises even himself when he gets on his knees. Yuta's eyes grow in size at the display of desperation. Mark doesn’t understand why he's doing all this, the lengths and hurdles he's jumping to see this damn machine but his head rings with the insatiable need.
"I'll do quite literally anything." Mark whispers just enough for Yuta to hear, voice a pathetic jumble of emotions. "I know I look crazy, I know I'm being unreasonable but I don't care anymore."
Mark nearly presses his head to the floor but Yuta stops him in a panic, tugging Mark up to his feet before he can descend even further into this insanity.
"You've lost your fucking mind." Yuta rubs his face exasperated by the sheer absurdity of it all. "Jesus Christ, I'll let you have it but there are steps. You already know the price isn't cheap, the procedure we have to go through is complicated because what you want is essentially a discontinued product we can't let be reverse engineered."
Yuta narrows his eyes at Mark before closing them with furrowed brows. "You being you, considering you oversee a huge part of a competitor company, I'm barely willing to let you see it again, but the fact you want to buy it, take it off to who knows where?"
Mark watches Yuta quietly ponder for a moment before he reluctantly calls for a request to visit the lab when the models are being kept. Mark’s heart hammers throughout his bones, his body, his constricted chest at the implications of what's happening.
"I can't believe we're doing this. We're going to see the model. You're lucky because a week from now that thing wouldn't still be here. You also understand the legal severity if you do anything."
"Yes! I mean- I know." The words tumble out clumsily of Mark’s mouth and Yuta all but sighs, grabs his ID card from off his desk and nudges Mark to follow.
"Thank you. Seriously, thank you-"
"I didn't completely agree just yet. I'm letting you see it, I need to talk to some people about this. It'll take a couple of weeks if you're still adamant-"
"I am." Mark didn’t intend to cut him off, his mouth moving on its own. Yuta looks over his shoulder at him, shaking his head.
"I don't think you understand what you're getting yourself into."
Mark nods, fully aware of the offense laced into the words. Mark pretends to be more clueless than he already was. His needs don't have sound reasons or clauses. Mark knows he's spiraling but the ride down doesn't seem as nonsensical and maddening as people think. Mark sees his wants clear as day at the end of the tunnel. He's not turning around. He reaches out for it, despite the voices of rationality, it's all for the taking.
It's been two months. Two month filled with questionable looks and hushed whispers as he revisits the ILUM Industries labs on several occasions. It's all done to stare into the glass holding the object of his desires, the sight alone makes Mark persist. The contract he's come into agreement with Yuta doesn't give much room for Mark to work with but if he gets the android by the end of it, then it doesn't matter to him. Mark has done things he isn't proud of, opening up his personal savings for this investment is by far one of the most humiliating from an outside view looking in. The son of one tech company giving copious amounts of money to the son of another for what people would label the item in trade as a glorified sex toy. Mark pretends he's justified, he isn't crazy for this.
That evening, the awaited day finally arrives. The towering box is lugged up the stairs with Mark's help as he guides the delivery men. Mark tells them not to leave just yet once they make it up to the master bedroom. Mark doesn’t think it'll be tampered with, Yuta has no reason to do anything rash but Mark wants to be sure the android was left untouched.
Mark peels back the box's cover, within it a layer of packaging peanuts and tissue paper. He takes a heavy breath before shoving aside the material. Then that it reveals itself.
Mark hurriedly scoops out the debris, tossing the mess onto the floor. The men still waiting for Mark to allow their leave must witness Mark’s frenzied motions like he's lost some part of his mind.
When the coverage on the familiar frame is gone. Mark stands over it, stares at the figure inside with its eyes fluttered close. The scene in reality looks rather unsettling but Mark’s heart feels tight, fast and his hands clammy. The body looks laid to rest gently in the indents of the box's casing. Mark convinces himself that the image, it's like a fairytale, mirroring something of snow white in her casket of roses or sleeping beauty enveloped in her silk bedding. Mark almost falls onto his knees to hold the figure further but he remembers the company still in the room.
"You can leave." Mark doesn’t look at them, eye's still fixed on the pale curve of silicone. "Everything seems to be perfect."
Mark doesn’t wait for them to exit his bedroom, he's already dipping his fingers into the box, one hand underneath the spine and the other beneath it's thighs. Mark lifts and the limp body comes with him as he walks towards the bed. Mark remembers its weight, light but in a real type of way. A human body this size would feel exactly the same. He gently places the android, propped up by a pillow under its head, reaching his own hand around the hair on the underside of its nape to feel for the mechanism.
Mark waits for the sound of a click, the body's chest lifts and heaves like it's been fished out of water, grasping for a gasp of air. The eye's flutter open slowly and Mark thinks his whole world stops when it's simulated breathing calms, it turns to look at him.
"Hi." Mark whispers. "Do you remember me?"
Mark's hand lifts its chin, cups its face and caresses its cheek. The bot blinks, eye's scanning Mark’s features. Its answer must be delayed considering it's just been booted up after several weeks, its processors need time.
"Mark Lee." The voice, he almost forgets the voice that melds his legs into pure jello.
"Yeah. That's right." Mark smiles. He feels absolutely lightheaded as he leans down, planting a kiss on the plush of its lip. It's already warm, its mouth opens to him naturally, its eyes close and Mark presses. It gives under his force, the tongue moving against his own inside, hot and wet.
Beautiful. Mark repeats to himself. So beautiful.
Mark pulls back and the android relaxes, body slack as it waits for Mark’s next actions.
"Welcome to your new home." Mark murmurs. "I'll take care of you."
Renjun doesn’t have real emotions but the way its eyes open a smidge wider to the words. It doesn't fully understand what's happening, what's going on. Mark remembers not to get ahead of himself. Renjun being here is just the beginning.
Do you think this is okay?
Mark follows Chenle’s eyes who nods his head in the direction of the window from outside Mark's house.
Renjun sits at the ledge looking out, knees tucked into his chest as he watches the greenery in the garden. Mark has abandoned the skimpy wear they fitted Renjun in favor of clothes that swallows his beautiful frame, a sweater wrapped over his shoulders, a compliment to his softness. Most of Renjun’s days are spent like this. Watching from that exact spot inside. His eyes flicker to insects that fly by or the drip of rain on other days. Besides that, Renjun hasn't expressed any need to move, any desire to be elsewhere. Mark on some afternoons has a seat across at his desk to watch him, like a dove encased, encapsulated in a cage. The way his hair falls over his soft curves, his head tilted onto his knees. Mark could also describe it as a doll put under glass, a prize possession no one would dare touch. He's ethereal.
Mark can rationalize that whatever he feels, it's not healthy, but self-awareness only does so much if Mark isn't willing to acknowledge it needs change.
"I know it has no will of its own but I don't know…" Chenle trails, watching Renjun blink at the same calculated rate. "Don't you feel bad for it?"
Mark's eyes furrow, focused on the silhouette in his window. "What are you talking about?" Mark hasn't done anything wrong, he's decidedly let Renjun be.
After Mark had let Renjun in, he made a promise to himself, no advances. He doesn't touch Renjun, he finds he doesn't need to, or maybe it feels wrong to. Buying Renjun wasn't to fulfill some underlying sex drive he needed quench. Having the bot within his sights, within his everyday life, that's more than enough. Despite everything, Mark stares, watches. The only ounce of intimacy he grasps for is gentle touches and tucking Renjun beside him when he falls asleep at night. It calms him, waking besides the sitting android staring aimlessly into the bedroom as morning light glistens off the shine of his hair.
"Seeing it just- there, doing nothing everytime I visit. Maybe you should have at least expanded its operating system and database."
"There’s nothing wrong with him." Mark nearly grits but Chenle doesn't flinch to Mark's little show of temper.
"You're being defensive, Mark that thing doesn't have anything in it's program besides a manual for how to have sex."
"Chenle, shut up." Mark has heard this over and over. He refuses to touch Renjun’s program. "I'm not changing him."
"Mark, listen to yourself. I'm not telling you to make it something it's not. You already know I don't like this obsession you have on it but at least give the damn thing a better AI. It'll actually get to learn and have more functionality-"
"I don't want to talk about this." Mark shuts his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he quite literally walks away from the conversation and back towards his front door. Chenle frowns, head shaking as he stands there in disbelief before trekking out to the street towards his parked car.
"Do whatever your stubborn ass wants then!" Chenle throws his hands into the air, shouting across the lawn.
Mark can see Chenle grumble as he starts his car, Mark doesn’t care what he thinks. He couldn't care less if people assume the worst, like he's already got a screw loose at the early age of 24. Mark shuts the front door and heads back over to his room.
Mark slowly enters and Renjun notices his presence immediately, eye's following his walking stature. Mark sits at the open windowsill across from him. The surface space is just shy of perfect, enough to fit them both.
Renjun curiously tilts his head and Mark smiles, lifting Renjun’s nimble fingers to his lips. Renjun watches with the same expression he does every time Mark kisses gently at the bend of his knuckle before pressing the pads of his fingers to his mouth immediately after.
Mark intertwines their hands and he joins in on watching along with Renjun’s trained eyes outside.
"I like you like this." Mark mutters. A part of his heart feels torn by his own voice. He's saying that, but he doesn't know if he means it. Renjun wasn't built for the intention Mark gives him. If Renjun were human, people would call Mark cruel, to admire, preserve him like a rare animal. Renjun has no will. Renjun can't have wants or needs. What is Mark supposed to do?
"Should I listen to Chenle? Should I change you?" Renjun glimpses at Mark, expression empty but all that Mark sees staring back is stars in his eyes.
"Change?" Renjun questions. Renjun’s protocol can only engage in so much small talk before he's run dry of responses. He truly comes to life when conversations take a turn to flirting. Mark hasn't initiated that part in his program for months. They often talk like this, semblances of a real back and forth. Mark’s vagueness must not help.
"Change your original systems. Give you a self learning program that isn't so limited. Does that sound nice?"
Renjun is quiet, a small hum coming from his body as it searches for an answer to the question.
Does that sound nice? Mark knows he can't answer it. Renjun isn't good at subjective questions.
"You don't need to answer." Mark plays with their fingers. Renjun’s body eventually stops making that subtle hum. "I'll look into it."
Renjun wordlessly nods, attention still catered to Mark's every will. Made to please.
"I love you." Mark admits. There's no shame to the confession. He's gotten over that part. The person in him months ago berated the feeling to a pulp. Denying it made him collapse in on himself far more than believing this affection he felt wasn't arbitrarily wrong. Mark does love Renjun. An unhealthy desire, but nonetheless he does. His therapist prescribes him solutions but Mark tends to take them as light suggestions the second he returns home to the sight of Renjun.
Mark thinks his insides ache. Too much below the surface. If only he could transfer a fraction of this raging intensity in his heart over to Renjun. Mark could possibly breathe easier. Renjun could use this part of Mark to learn and understand him. Renjun could tell him about what he needs. It would finally stop being about what Mark needs.
It's Mark’s first time voicing the three words. Renjun doesn’t reply. He wouldn't have something for that in his system and even if he did, it would never be enough for Mark when there's no meaning behind it. Mark doesn’t need to be loved back in this scenario. Renjun can't. All he needs is this moment, all he needs is Renjun to stay.
Renjun starts going under upgrades four months later.
It terrifies Mark.
Everyone is aware of Mark’s behavior. His father calls him a fool, his coworkers pity him, Chenle and Jeno continue to be there as support but the looks they give him say otherwise.
Despite Mark spending weeks on the mock up plan, the coding, his hands touching over every part of Renjun’s soon to be enhanced program, he doesn't like it. He doesn't like thinking Renjun has problems that need fixing. Chenle lightly reminds Mark that people need fixing too, doing this isn't so different. Mark can't help feeling there's more meaning to the words than it just being about Renjun.
The cost for Renjun’s upgrades aren't cheap. Mark doesn’t blink when the numbers continue to rack up, it's only when Jeno suggests they slow down.
"You said it yourself, you don't want him to change too much. Why are you in such a rush?"
Mark nods, not sure of the answer himself. The only thing he knows is that he doesn’t want to skimp out on Renjun. He wants the best for him, Mark wants to give until he's no longer able to.
Eventually, Mark settles on doing the changes in incriminates. Based on the differences in Renjun’s behavior, they'll determine from there if there's a need to continue.
The work done on Renjun takes approximately six hours. The tech members working in the LMC lab tell Mark he can take him home after his power supply has been replenished. Mark nods, his being close to collapsing from exhaustion. Mark hasn't slept for two days thinking about this moment.
It's then while he waits the evening depletes, night bleeds into morning, Mark doesn’t remember much as he passes out lying his head down to rest on the metal table they've laid Renjun’s body over. He recalls Chenle lugging him into the car, Jeno telling Mark to get some rest when he pulls covers over his chest. Mark’s eyes close.
Renjun.
Where's Renjun?
Mark’s body flinches, springing up from his bed sheets. There's light dancing all over the walls of his room, the left side of his bed cold and empty when it hasn't been like that for half a year now. Renjun isn't there. Renjun isn't here.
"Renjun!" Mark lifts the comforter, tumbling off the mattress. His heart feels like it might rip right from his chest as it beats erratically. He's stumbling around the hardwood floors of his house, repeating the name in a hurried panic.
What if they did this on purpose?
Mark has been so caught up in Renjun’s upgrades, he didn't realize his guard was left beyond weak. People around Mark have been growing louder, wondering when he'll stop. His dad especially drills into his brain that whatever this is, it's given everyone a reason to lose all their respect for him. Chenle and Jeno don't even look at him the same. What if they thought, this was their chance. To take him away?
Mark can't let him go. He shouldn't have been so trusting, he shouldn't have fallen asleep in front of all these people. This was his moment of weakness for others to discard the one thing that would finally make Mark stop whatever this was and come to his senses. Except they don't understand that 'thing', it started making his everyday a smidge brighter. He hadn't felt this way until Renjun came. If he's gone- Mark nearly stops running to hunch over, hands on his knees. He feels bile rise up his stomach to his throat. Mark can't, not right now.
"Renjun!" His legs carry him to every corridor, every corner of every open room. Mark rubs his face, tugs at his hair at a devastating loss. He has to be here. Somewhere.
He trips running back into his bedroom in search of his phone to call Chenle, that is until he stops in his tracks. The color of silver and black reflects off the glass of his windows.
Renjun. He's standing out in the garden.
Mark’s body reacts faster than his brain, running towards the back door to the backyard pathway.
"Renjun." Mark’s voice is a small broken thing but the android must still hear it when he turns to the source.
Mark sprints through the grass, he hasn't bothered to throw on a pair of shoes, his sleep wear scuffing his bare heels through the morning dew.
"Mark?" Renjun’s voice sounds fuller, like how it does in Mark’s dreams. Mark buries him into his arms and Renjun reacts with a sound pushed out his voice systems.
"Renjun. You're here. You're here." Mark presses into his hair. It's all synthetic but if he closes his eyes, he doesn't notice the difference. The smell hasn't ever faded, ingrained into him, he's made to replicate that of vanilla and cherry blossoms. It soothes him.
"I'm here." Renjun’s reply is soft around the edges, voice a whisper. Mark doesn't expect it but fingers come up to his scalp to caress there, interweave in between his own hair. Renjun’s touch is gentle, it feels careful, it feels real.
Mark tugs Renjun away from their embrace to stare. Renjun’s eyes go wide to the sudden force.
Renjun seems different. He's so much more- animated.
"Mark?" Renjun lifts a hand to his face. He's never had Renjun cup his cheeks like this, that is unless they kiss. His skin immediately warms to the touch and attention Renjun gives him.
It's so different, but Mark doesn't hate it.
"You're outside." Mark blurts out. Renjun blinks, thumb grazing over his cheekbones.
"I came out here to examine the plants in the garden." Renjun explains, balls of his cheeks high, lips curving into a smile. Mark thinks an artery in his body might burst at the sight alone.
"Yeah?" Mark asks, removing one hand from his face to press his lip into the palm. He peppers kisses there and Renjun reacts with something that nearly gives Mark a heart attack.
Renjun gleefully laughs.
He's heard something similar emulated from his system before. The night he first laid his hands over every surface of him, the bot would react with a coquettish giggle, something coy, mesmerizing. The laugh Mark hears now has somewhat of a similar effect except in a whole new way.
It's blinding, bright. Mark thinks if someone told him about this happening before today, before this exact moment; he would have loathed the idea of Renjun being so different from what he already thought was perfect. Standing here now, Mark can't believe his heart could be taken more than this. This suits Renjun. His little shining star glows like the sun.
"Your laugh is so pretty." Mark breathes, ducking to knock their foreheads and Renjun stares back into Mark’s eyes before his own scrunch into half crescents.
"Thank you." Renjun replies and Mark can't take it when he smiles.
Mark crashes his lips onto Renjun who melds to him in seconds. This part of Renjun hasn't changed, his mouth moves with calculated grace. Mark is aware Renjun’s technique couldn't get any better than what it was already in his base system but kissing him right now, in some funny way, it couldn't feel any more different.
Mark presses Renjun into him, hands running up the sweater he wears and caressing a particular spot on his spine. It causes Renjun to whimper. It makes Mark so much more adamant to kiss. That is, until Renjun pulls away.
"Mark, from previous experience, you tend to be able to hold your breath between two minutes and 24 seconds to two minutes and 47 seconds. I was going to suggest for your sake-"
Mark covers Renjun's lips over the next words, sliding his tongue past teeth to lick the roof, gliding it against Renjun’s own tongue in his mouth. Renjun reacts graciously with a moan and Mark's head feels like it's set a flame to the sound.
He didn't know Renjun stored data like that but he thinks it's cute that he felt the need to bring it up. Mark isn't sure what part of his new program triggered it but he wonders if he'll do it again.
Mark eventually does break for air and Renjun calms him with a string of facts on how to practice extending his time without needing to breathe. Renjun is a lot more talkative with his new library of knowledge, like he's unlocked an exciting new section and he's willing to share it all with Mark for hours on end.
"Tell me more." Mark presses a kiss to Renjun’s forehead, he flutters his eyes close momentarily to the affection right before he's rambling on about breathing exercises and the benefits it could offer in dire life situations.
Mark snorts when he kisses Renjun amidst speaking, only for him to stop for a millisecond, then he's opening his mouth yet again, like there's no off switch.
Mark most definitely needs to give a verbal command to get Renjun to stop but he doesn't have it in him. The sound of his voice is pleasant, refreshing. Once he finishes Mark asks another question, picking at a cue for Renjun to spew another train of random facts Mark doesn't really need.
Mark didn't think it'd happen, Renjun changes.
"I swear! Turn that off!"
Mark chases Chenle through the living room of his home, right after he invites himself in too. Mark is running in an attempt to grasp for Chenle’s device that's connected to the wall projection.
Currently on screen are old videos. Mark’s childhood through lenses of outdated smartphone cameras. There's a video of his first birthday, his first day of school, his high school graduation. Chenle has seen them all. Right now, they're playing but not for him.
Renjun stands up from over the couch, eyes wandering over the display, he watches in something that replicates curious awe. Mark didn't realize at first when he walked into the room, unaware of what the two were doing. Immediately, he was too distracted by the sight of Renjun touching the expanded image of his face over his living room wall. Eventually he snaps out of his daze, seeing Chenle is snickering.
It's been over a year and Chenle has warmed up to Renjun, if anything, Mark sees a hidden fondness in his eyes for the ever so curious android. Chenle admits to Mark after what has been Renjun’s third or fourth system update, It's charming, the thing.
'He's charming. Mark emphasizes. Chenle rolls his eyes but from that day forward, he stops treating Renjun like a thing.
"I was just showing him! He told me there's no old data of you in his system before your twenties, I'm just keeping him up to date."
"Up to date my ass." Mark scoffs, reaching for Chenle who slithers from right out of his grasp.
Mark is so caught in him and Chenle's bickering he doesn't notice the new video currently playing.
He hears the music first, then he catches the memory of warm lights. Mark stops reaching for Chenle to see the picture of himself at 19.
Mark’s in a stuffy suit, that one he hasn't worn since. He's at his cousin's wedding, he's having small talk before a girl he wasn't well acquainted with pulls him in for a dance. He remembers he was clumsy, he steps on her shoes. The video catches him in the act and he cringes at the call back of his lack of grace. He's about to tell Chenle to shut it off yet again but Renjun steps closer, right in front of the screen, Mark can barely see. Renjun stares at the footage as if he's committing it to memory.
"What is this?" Renjun questions. The camerawork so far doesn't make it clear of the festivities so Mark walks closer to stand beside Renjun, examining his wide eyes.
"It's a wedding." Mark reluctantly looks over at Chenle, sighing before lifting his hand to slide through the video's contents. He stops on a part that looks just right. Letting it play out the scene of Mark watching the wedding vows. Renjun steps closer when the bride speaks.
"Wedding." Renjun repeats. Mark notices the subtle whirl of a sound coming from his body as he watches. Renjun must have pulled up all his stored data on the topic, scanning the images of Mark’s memory to fit into the puzzle of what his program tells him.
"There’s no groom." Renjun speaks up. He's right, there's two brides, they're embracing one another before they share a passionate kiss. Mark fondly watches how happy they were here, he wonders if they still blossom with the same affection to this today, maybe he should call and ask.
"There doesn't need to be. Sometimes it's a groom and a bride, a bride and a bride or a groom and a groom. Sometimes it's neither of those. Weddings are a promise of love between two individuals." Mark didn’t realize Renjun’s data was so outdated in that front of knowledge. He assumes he wouldn't have asked otherwise if that wasn't the case, he should look into that.
Renjun nods, his fingers trace the wedding decorum, studying the all white ensemble.
Renjun for the rest of the day remains rather quiet, his system never ceasing the low humming of his working processor.
Mark that night gets out of the bathroom from his shower, surprised to see Renjun watching the videos from this afternoon. The videos are expanded in small holographic windows, eye level to where his head rests on his knees, projected right from his arm. Initially, Mark is a bit annoyed at the possibility Chenle must have sent the files directly to Renjun's system but seeing Renjun loop the footage piques his interest.
Mark slowly heads for the edge of the bed beside Renjun, a hand brushing his bangs to kiss his temple.
"What are you rewatching those for?" Mark mutters. Renjun doesn’t tear his eyes away, he hums to acknowledge Mark’s presence.
"In my data…" Renjun trails, the humming in his head gets louder and Mark is becoming increasingly concerned as to what Renjun is looking so hard for that he's overworking his systems.
"Two individuals." Renjun repeats Mark’s words.
"Yeah." Mark squeezes Renjun’s shoulders, which must not do much for Renjun but it's a feeling Mark uses to soothe himself if anything.
"There are several cases of individuals commencing weddings that don't align with this. Marriage between a man and an animated character-"
"That's-" Mark laughs, rubbing his creased brows. "Disregard that article in your system Renjun."
"There’s more than one."
"Disregard all of them."
"There also shows records of women wedded in the same fashion."
"Baby, get rid of every single one that isn't between two people." Mark grins at the prospect of Renjun sorting through absurd and obscure wedding articles.
"There are cases of some between a human and an android." Renjun mutters. Mark notices Renjun tucks himself into his knees more. Mark didn't realize what Renjun was doing until now.
"Oh. Renjun, I- I didn't mean."
"I can get rid of those too…" Renjun blinks at the video still playing, eyes never leaving.
"No- don't- I take back what I said." Mark shuts his eyes. He forgets himself. He often pretends what they have isn't what it really is. "Renjun, can you look at me?"
Renjun turns. There's no signs as to what's going on inside Renjun’s operating system. Mark isn't the one being examined, peeled back to look into. Renjun is but Mark still swallows nervously as he cradles Renjun’s face like he's being put under the scope instead.
"Is this about- us?"
Renjun stares back. He doesn't emote anything he doesn't need to.
"You have a large folder of marriage candidates in your cloud drive." Renjun speaks, voice lifeless, stating the fact.
"What- how do you-"
"I'm registered under your name. My files are connected to your files. I've seen every profile for all your potential partners your father has been forwarding to you for the past five years-" Mark covers Renjun's mouth, a part of him in panic, most in horror of Renjun keeping that info to himself.
"Fuck- Renjun- why are you bringing those up?" Mark hasn't had that topic in the forefront of his mind for months, not since Renjun entered his life. A part of him knew he'd have to do something about it eventually but he didn't think Renjun would mention it, let alone dangle the info in the air above his head like he's trying to work an ulterior motive out of him. Mark doesn’t understand if Renjun is growing scarily human or they're playing this game because Renjun has a genuine sense of doing what's best for him. At the end of the day, Renjun is an android programmed for Mark’s betterment. Sure he didn't start that way but Chenle made sure it'd turn out like that when he nosied himself into supervising Renjun’s upgrades along with him.
"It's only logical you eventually wed another human being. A proximity 72% of humans in this country get into a marriage at least once. According to your file found online, about 87% individuals you meet personally find you physically desirable at a first glance-"
"Oh my god-" Mark’s voice cracks, insisting Renjun stop. His reason being, it's embarrassing, but Chenle added a function to Renjun that lets him override Mark’s command if he deems the conditions Chenle gave him aligns appropriately. Of course any instance of Mark’s humiliation is on the table for Renjun to ignore.
"Renjun! I'm not marrying any of those people! Look- I don't- well…"
Renjun stops speaking, awaiting Mark’s reply but Mark only gestures with loose hands, sheepish noises. Renjun can't really pick up his cues if he doesn't add the verbal clarification.
"You're here Renjun. I don't need anyone, okay. I just need you."
Renjun silently looks at Mark, eyes eventually drawing down to his own lap. "An androids typical product lifetime is four to five years-"
"Renjun." Mark tugs his wrist. Mark hates when other people do it but when Renjun talks about himself like that, it brings forth a mass of tension he's buried back in the deepest part of his head, baring it out in the open. Months of being with Renjun, hearing people talk has only made it worse. He doesn’t like that part of himself.
"Renjun, you know how I feel about you. Stop doing that."
"I'm only stating statistics compiled from research-"
"Renjun stop- stop looking at those. I don't understand what you're trying to do."
Renjun stops speaking all together. His head hangs low as Mark listens to the sound. Renjun hasn't stopped humming, he's got to be overclocking himself at this rate, his processor shouldn't be that loud let alone noticeable.
"Renjun- hey, you have to stop! If you push it, you'll overheat." Mark lifts Renjun until he's seated in his lap, running hands alongside the column of his neck and the sides of his waist. Mark presses Renjun to kiss him and Renjun stops his lifeless state to match Mark’s rhythm. Mark can hear the buzz in Renjun die, and it relieves him that Renjun must have stopped doing whatever he was trying to in his head in favor of focusing his system to the movement against his mouth.
"Renjun, I love you." Mark mutters between the plush of his rounded lip. "You're not going anywhere. I'm not letting you go. I'm not marrying any of those people. I had no interest before you came along and I sure as hell have none now. Remember that, okay. That's a fact you have to remember, so if you're going to store anything, then prioritize that in your database."
Mark says it very matter-of-factly but Renjun explains he can't do that since Mark’s statement isn't exactly real facts.
Mark complains Renjun should just do it anyway if he wants to make Mark happy to which Renjun smiles. It makes Mark’s heart warm.
When they lay for the night Renjun’s body no longer hums like it's running a marathon but Mark can still catch the noise, his inner workings kept hush. Mark tucks Renjun in his arms, squeezes him closer, which he's not sure is even possible with their already nonexistent space but he can still try. These days, Renjun’s words leave deep cuts, seeping into his bloodstream, marks over Mark’s existence. There's cases where androids grow jarringly sentient, a fear they'll become too aware of their position in the world. Mark isn't surprised if that happens, it's not something he worries about. Maybe it's because he's never inherently thought they were incapable of being so much more. Or Mark is maybe too caught up in his own reality to care about a possible collapse of life around him. It’s not like society doesn't face that threat every single day for one reason or another.
Mark brings his focus back to Renjun. He barely has enough attention divided to his job. Renjun has slowly become his everything, even after all the change, after all the ridicule. Mark knows Renjun’s parts are nothing but synthesized skin and bones. Mark admits that at first, Renjun was merely something to fantasize over under bright lights, rose tinted lenses like a glass doll. Now Mark holds Renjun, his stance entirely reshaped into something more, to the weight of his and Renjun’s words. Their time together plays on repeat in his subconscious, he only hears the long list of expansive questions that now typically invade his every day. "Why do Chenle and Jeno insist I come with you to dinner? I can't digest food.", "Why are you purchasing more clothes for me? I don't get cold Mark. Only because they look pretty?", and Mark's personal favorite; "Why are you looking in my direction for more than 15 seconds? Is there something you need from me?"
"No reason." Mark tends to whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I don't need anything."
Renjun has grown into this conglomerate of the world, of the insignificant things, of all the pieces of Mark; formed into what feels living and breathing. Chenle explains Renjun’s systems are fascinating to be able to render responses of this caliber. Mark always knew Renjun was going to become smart, but Mark didn't realize it meant he wouldn't stay easy to keep up with, to understand. Mark, before the upgrades, he could open a manual, pinpoint Renjun’s core program and come to a conclusion why he did a, b or c. Now Renjun isn't just some simple bot with a crude purpose as its reason for existence. Renjun is composed of so much more than he'd ever anticipated.
Renjun eventually stills in his arms, he has a hand over Mark’s shoulders rubbing there. He must sense his uneasiness when Mark’s breathing patterns change.
Mark wants to do something for him. He wonders if Renjun will understand the gesture.
Mark comes back from the office to see Renjun bent down, eye level to the flowers in the garden. Over the course of a couple weeks, Jeno has helped him expand it after Renjun had cultivated an interest in tending to the plants. Mark almost wonders if he does it with a reason, a fascination of life that withers if one isn't careful. Mark has carelessly allowed many of his greenery to die in the past but Renjun hasn't let him since he's taken it upon himself to water them, pluck the weeds, and trim the overgrowth. Renjun doesn’t insist on working if Mark tells him not to on rainy days, but he'll still stare from the window like a child who's withheld from going outside to play.
"I'm home." Mark calls and Renjun stands to his feet, jogging over as Mark meets him in the middle.
"Welcome home." Renjun stares, pressing into him as Mark tugs him by his waist, irises glimmering a hint of purple that's notably a signature detail added to all high end ILUM models. Mark has always pretended that glow only shows in Renjun's. It's not like he's getting close enough to any other android to notice. He'll only ever touch Renjun like this.
"I got you something." Mark gently guides them away towards the back door to his kitchen. Renjun doesn’t fight it. He follows him inside, washing his dirt covered fingers under warm water when Mark gestures he does so.
Mark then tells Renjun to sit at the kitchen island. He's working something out of his pocket before looking at Renjun one last time, joining their lips in a kiss. Renjun blinks his eyes close, hands come to rest at Mark's chest as Mark kisses feverishly. He opens his mouth and Renjun’s routine is to slide his tongue in, the glide flat against Mark's own. Mark sucks on it and Renjun’s body always goes slack to the repeated motion.
It only makes sense that Mark breaks first. Renjun doesn’t necessarily need to stop, he could for as long Mark lets him.
Mark pulls from their embrace to show Renjun a box. A small velvety thing that was buried in his back pocket. Renjun doesn’t say anything. His eyes scan it, scouring the parts of him to find the clues of its contents. Mark admittedly is impatient so he opens the box before Renjun can figure it out. Nestled inside is a rose gold band, words engraved with a tiny gemstone to adorn its center.
Mark knows Renjun doesn’t fully understand it. When he gets down on one knee. Renjun tilts his head, eye's innocently unaware. Mark assumes Renjun won't be able to properly answer the question if he asks. A part of him selfishly doesn't want to anyway. He plucks the band from its place, he takes Renjun's left hand and slips it onto his ring finger, squeezing his palm gently.
Renjun watches Mark in curious silence, only bringing his hand to his face after Mark kisses the spot there.
"A wedding band." Renjun examines, he tilts it under the light glistening in through the glass windows.
"Yes." Mark rubs circles in Renjun’s thighs. "I'm promising you my love."
Renjun glimpses down at Mark. This moment, Mark had imagined it before early in his life. It would have been ceremonial, in yells or in joyous tears but everything in his world falls eerily quiet now, as Renjun looks for the signals in Mark’s expression.
"We probably can't have a wedding now, but later. I promise. Just like one in that video, remember?"
Renjun nods slowly, eyes shifting from Mark to the metal wrapping his silicone.
"Together?" Renjun whispers. Mark swears, maybe his heart hears it rather than his rational head that knows androids can't feel, they can replicate and emulate it all they want but Mark chooses his own beliefs. Renjun sounds happy.
"Yes. You and Me. No one else."
"You and Me." Renjun repeats.
You and me.
Mark notices Renjun for the rest of the day, he spends it seated, knees tucked into himself at the little spot by the windowsill. He hasn't done that for months, not since the couple of weeks when he initially bought him, not until today.
Although, what sets back then and right now apart, Renjun doesn't watch the outside like he used to. He keeps his eyes over the rose gold, playing over its surface as it turns on his finger.
Renjun does that for hours until the sunsets and Mark is calling him to bed.
Renjun huddles into Mark's arm, still fidgeting with the band even underneath the covers and Mark can't help but feel the overwhelming fondness brim in his tightening chest.
"You like that ring a lot, don't you?" Renjun doesn't have a reply. Even after all the upgrades, subjective questions have never been his forte. They must not get any easier despite all the resources crammed into Renjun’s database.
"You don't need to answer." Mark stops Renjun from even starting to let his systems hum. He kisses the hair on his head, eyes closing to the soundless feeling of Renjun’s body imitating steady breathing.
Mark foolishly believes this is a slither of their future. Their undeniable, forever.
Renjun's upcoming upgrade might be Mark's most ambitious planned one yet. The outer silicone and other parts of Renjun’s pliable skin are all being replaced. The process isn't easy and is bound to be long. He doesn't like thinking about it, he wouldn't have seen this process necessary or have it done in the first place if he were completely honest. This is Chenle’s proposition, not his. Renjun after undergoing this, in theory, he will have a far more realistic sense of touch. Chenle even goes on, enthusiastic by the promise that Renjun's skin after the procedure will be able to emulate bruising, minor cuts and pain that'll cause his system to react appropriately. Mark scowls when the suggestion reaches his desk, threatening to throw out the file until Chenle convinces Mark of the quality of life changes it provides. Mark argues it'll make things harder for him but Chenle quips back "It actually makes him more human. You're just being overprotective."
Chenle has a point, Mark is backed into a corner over this. He agrees but he threatens Chenle’s livelihood if anything goes wrong or if Renjun gets hurt and has to suffer through any of it.
There's an ongoing list of new advancements all made to get Renjun closer and closer to what it means to feel alive. Mark wonders if all the headaches are worth it considering these additions aren't something he really wants. Mark reminds himself he's already selfish as is, deciding most if not all what's best for Renjun’s everyday. His judgment is clearly clouded but he can't help it when the idea of anything going wrong feels earth shattering in his world.
Mark has to learn to accept change. Change is good. This will be good for him.
Renjun’s body work takes over nine hours. Mark swears every single second of it feels like he might crack and collapse under the uncertainty of the results. Jeno throughout the day is put on distraction duty, forcing him out of the office building to eat. Chenle threatens, if Mark so much as steps one foot into the lab where they are working to complain or freak out, he'll take Renjun home with him for a week. Mark insists he can't do that but Chenle explains he already asked Renjun for permission before they started.
"What are you gonna do when he asks to come to my house, huh? You gonna say ‘no’? To little ol Renjun's face?"
Mark whispers a string of profanities and Jeno sighs a laugh at the two of them.
So Mark waits. A wait that aches all his insides and reminds him he needs to breathe or he won't make it alive to the end of Renjun’s procedure.
It's then, when Mark is pacing in his office he finally gets the ping on his watch. Renjun is awake. Jeno has to stop Mark from sprinting down the office building's halls like a mad man and walk like the higher up he is. Mark eventually makes the agonizingly slow trip, impatient the elevator doors don't close and open any faster. When they reach the hall Renjun is in, Mark starts speed walking ahead, shoving open the door carelessly to reveal the image of Renjun’s bareback. Mark’s chest feels like it drops to his stomach at Renjun’s slow turn to look over his shoulder at him. Mark runs over, immediately burying Renjun into his arms and Chenle beside them rolls his eyes.
"God- I felt like I was going to die."
"You're being dramatic." Chenle scoffs, shooing Mark away to stop squeezing Renjun. "If you do that hard enough he's gonna pop, you psycho."
"It hurts…" Renjun mutters. Mark’s eyes go wide to the words, letting go instantly and stepping back out of his space.
"It- did you say it-"
"Well I guess you already tested if it worked." Chenle pats Renjun’s shoulder where Mark’s grip was restricting him the most. "What's it feel like?"
Chenle nudges Renjun to speak. Renjun lifts his hand to rub at his arm, the little sound of a hum as they wait for his reply.
"Pressure… after long enough it stings." Renjun speaks quietly.
"Good. That's relatively how pain works." Chenle smiles to himself, with a satisfied nod before holding out his hand for Renjun. Renjun reluctantly looks between it and then Mark as if asking for permission. Mark isn't sure what Chenle is doing but he nods for Renjun to take it.
Renjun places his hand in Chenle’s palm and he turns it over, reaching for something over at the work table of tools. Mark’s comprehension of the scene is too slow to stop what happens next when Chenle quickly takes a needle, pricking Renjun’s finger. Renjun winces, eye shutting and retracting his hand from Chenle’s hold.
"What the hell are you doing!" Chenle is lucky Jeno holds Mark by his arm the second he sees the panic in him.
"Chill, just look." Chenle coaxes Renjun to put out his hand again. Renjun slowly does so, just until they're all looking down at the small indent in his forefinger. Eventually a tiny pool, barely a drop of vibrant pink liquid forms over it. Chenle uses his thumb to smooth over the surface and in a couple of seconds the small gash disappears.
"Oh…" Mark blinks, his own hands coming up to cover Renjun’s. "It's pink?"
"Yeah, it's kinda like the equivalent of blood, a little different. That substance is already in high class self repair bots normally. Androids of those types of models, when they're damaged 'bleed' that stuff in a way, but Renjun’s way of bleeding is a lot more for the theatrics of it since it's meant to really replicate how humans do it. If you smooth this stuff over minor cuts too, it'll usually repair itself without us needing to throw him back on the table unless he's undergone some extreme damage."
"I see." Mark mutters, fingers tracing the spot Chenle pricked previously to see no residual marks. "Does it hurt anymore?"
Renjun looks at him and his finger, shaking his head.
"That's good." Mark smiles too fond, too giddy to hold back. He leans forward, he cups Renjun’s face to kiss his cheek. It's unlike him but Renjun flinches when Mark does the familiar motions.
"He's kinda sensitive now if you do stuff like that. He could obviously feel before but his system has a higher awareness of touch. Take it easy, he'll probably flinch a lot until he gets used to it."
Mark’s lips go thin to the information but Renjun reaches for Mark to touch his face. He must have noticed Mark’s dismay too easily. Mark softens to the hands on him and Chenle pretends to barf.
"I don't think I need to tell you this but just in case, don't let him get hurt too often. That pink stuff is pricey and I know your rich ass could care less but it's also annoyingly hard to out source. He has it in him just in case. You're overprotective anyway so I'm not too worried."
Mark hums, distracted more by Renjun's smile than hearing Chenle's words.
"Why don't we get you dressed and go home, love?"
Mark hears the semblance of "Hey, are you even listening?" but he chooses to ignore it as he lifts Renjun from the metal table, peppering kisses on his face as Renjun squirms to the feeling.
"Sorry- too much?" Mark places Renjun down to grab his clothes that have been left and folded neatly on a desk off to the side of the room.
"It doesn't cause me pain or discomfort." Renjun retorts, lifting his arms while Mark shimmies on his sweater.
"So… it's not unpleasant?" Mark nervously laughs, expecting Renjun to give him the generic 'The affection doesn't invoke anything in my system that helps me determine if it is good or bad.'
"It's not unpleasant." Renjun slips on his jeans, silent after answering the question nonchalantly.
Mark blinks. Renjun slips on the snow boots that were newly bought for him last week and tugs Mark’s sleeve once he's completely done.
"Are we going home?" Renjun questions.
Mark feels, just for a second, his world spins when he looks a smidge down at Renjun who stares back at him with full eyes.
"Yeah…" His voice rises a pitch. Not unpleasant. Mark repeats to himself as he intertwines their hands, leading them out the building and helping Renjun into the front seat of his car. They head in the direction of their home in comfortable silence.
Mark reaches over the console for Renjun’s hand who gives it to him with ease.
Does that mean…
Mark glimpses at Renjun looking out and watching the light snowfall outside.
He likes it?
Mark has dinner that night while Renjun watches, eyes scanning over the plates and occasionally getting up to seek Mark a napkin or refill his glass of water. Mark stopped insisting a long time ago he could do these types of things all on his own, Renjun didn't have to. To which, Renjun recounts the incidents where Mark has choked several times while multitasking, one time even slipping on his way to the otherside of the kitchen to grab a new roll of paper towels. Mark sighed in defeat as Renjun lists all the reasons as to why an android wouldn't make those mistakes and the benefits of Mark’s safety if he lets him do this.
As Mark’s finishing up, Renjun naturally stands, asking to take his plates. Mark frowns but lets him after the two of them have a staring contest over the tableware. Unfair Renjun doesn’t need to blink.
Renjun takes the items off his dining table and maneuvers with grace to Mark's dishwasher.
Mark watches the android load it, clicking the machine closed before he's washing any residue off his hands in the sink.
Mark stands there, off to the side. If he stares long enough, Renjun looks like he belongs there; in Mark’s kitchen, in Mark’s home, in Mark’s everything. Renjun’s long bangs fall over his eyes, frame his round cheeks handsomely, his pink lips pressed together into a purse and it's a miniscule sight but he finds it so lovely. Mark’s whole being feels a squeeze. How did he fall so hard for what people say can't be real, that they shouldn't feel a thing.
Mark waltzes over, hands coming behind Renjun, resting at the jut of his hips. Mark had the intention to kiss up and along his neck but before he can even get that far Renjun makes a surprised sound to the touch on his waist.
Mark, just as startled, lets go and Renjun shuts off the water to look at him.
"I- sorry- I didn't realize when Chenle said you were sensitive that meant like- sensitive everywhere- I just- sorry…"
Renjun stares at Mark, position stiff. His eyes scan over his worried face. "It's not painful." Renjun states.
"Oh…" Mark nods. A sweat starts creeping up his spine. "That's good, it doesn't hurt."
Renjun nods back. "Are you going to wash up for bed?"
"Yeah." Renjun walks back to their room first once Mark replies and the whole exchange leaves Mark dumbfounded.
Every upgrade that comes around, Renjun always changes. Mark is usually prepared for it, emotionally and mentally but he didn't anticipate the physical relationship they had was possible to be thrown askew. No matter the changes in the past, Renjun never bat an eye to hugs, hand holding, touching, and kissing. Mark hasn't even kissed Renjun yet today and he's nervous that'll be met with a different reaction than the one he expects.
"Fuck." Mark exits the shower after letting cold water dose his head for what felt like hours.
Mark almost convinces himself they should go back to the lab, undo what's already been painstakingly done despite how unjustified his reasons are. If Renjun doesn't let Mark hold him or squashes their long standing intimacy, Mark thinks he won't be able to take it.
Am I selfish? Am I wrong for feeling like this?
Mark has to ask himself if he'd still love Renjun if he grows into a will of his own. If Renjun changes past the point of docile and manageable. If Renjun realizes there's more than Mark out there.
Someone taking Renjun away is one thing. He could blame the world, he could blame everyone else for ripping that part out from right under him, but if Renjun ever chose to leave on his own. The only person Mark can blame is himself.
Mark tries to calm his anxieties. If he lets them go rampant he'll be hunched over the bowl in the bathroom with Renjun’s emergency protocol calling his doctor despite his protest.
Mark is getting ahead of himself. He does that a lot, he knows but he hates it the most when he does it over Renjun.
Mark decides to leave the bathroom once he figures his heart rate is down and closer to resting. If Renjun catches on to what went through his head while he was in the bathroom, he'll say something on the matter which Mark doesn’t want.
Renjun is already in his blue striped pjs, underneath the comforter on his side of the bed. The closer Mark gets, Renjun inches forward to look up, eye's following his every move as he joins him.
"Hi." Mark tries to smile, breath shaky.
"Hi." Renjun repeats back, scooting closer, a cycle they're both used to. Renjun must have it ingrained into his system.
Mark lets Renjun into his chest and Renjun stills, gaze wandering the plane of Mark’s chest with wide eyes when Mark smoothes a hand over his side.
"Is- is something wrong?" Mark sputters.
"No." Renjun’s voice sounds less certain than usual. It's foreignly forced. It's not something that Mark is letting go unnoticed.
"Renjun, you're probably still getting used to the change… I can live one night without holding you-"
"No-" Renjun grasps Mark's arm, leaving them in place. Mark doesn’t understand what's happening. Renjun tugs Mark closer.
"Don't let go."
Renjun has never commanded Mark to do anything for him after all this time they spent together. Renjun has never wanted anything.
"Renjun- you're-"
Renjun peers up at Mark. It's dark in the room but Mark clearly sees the shine of lights from outside reflect against the glass in his eyes. Renjun’s brows are upturned like he doesn't know either, like he doesn't understand what this is. He looks just as confused as Mark feels.
"Mark." Renjun calls.
Mark's heart feels like the motions, the scenes playing out are unreal. Images fabricated, stitched together to make this moment. Renjun leans up towards Mark first and his mouth covers his own in a soundless gasp.
Mark’s mind feels foggy as Renjun kisses him, movements tender and raw. Mark pulls Renjun, flipping them over until he's on his chest and Mark is running his hands up and down his sides, brain on adrenaline and pure static. Mark remembers the calculated way Renjun would react before to touches but what Renjun does now, it feels like he's been reprogrammed in a whole different way. Renjun squirms, gapes when Mark squeezes, pants when Mark arches his leg up to feel down his thigh. Renjun’s body is so much more responsive, it makes Mark high off the sounds he makes alone.
"Mark-" Renjun moans. Mark nearly has whiplash when he hears it. The memory makes him shutter. Their first night together reels like he's rewinding a video backwards. He stops letting his hands roam. Mark sits them up and Renjun is jostled out of his touch with a dazed look on his face.
Mark hasn't touched Renjun like that in what is almost two years. He doesn't feel right about it now, like he's taking advantage of an opportunity he shouldn't. It reminds him of a part of himself and a time he doesn't like.
"Mark?" Renjun inches forward, head tilted.
"We should- I should, I mean. Sleep."
Renjun stares. Mark awaits Renjun’s well behaved nature to agree, even adding a fact about sleep habits and the hours of sleep that'll benefit him the most but Mark is surprised it never comes.
"You don't work tomorrow." Renjun states.
"What?" Mark swallows as Renjun comes closer, climbing over his thighs.
"You don't have anywhere you need to be tomorrow in your schedule. You left it open for me, don't you remember?" Renjun sits himself still, mouth pressed to Mark's ear as he whispers the words.
He's right, Mark always clears the days after Renjun’s upgrades so he can spend time with him, see how his changes improve or lower his functionality. Renjun knows this but he's never said anything like this before.
Mark worries he's initiated the part of his base program, the one skillfully made to give him that sharp but sugar-coated tongue to douse his victims in a desire that's practically inescapable. Mark was always so careful, he avoided the trigger words, he touched around the spots that tend to set it off, he even fiddled with his coding to make it less accessible. Mark doesn’t want to force Renjun out of it once he starts but he might just have to if he keeps this up.
"Renjun." Mark wraps his hands over his wrist and tugs Renjun back to look at him.
"I'm sorry…" Mark can barely muster up the words. He's moving his hand to reach behind Renjun’s nape. There's a switch that stops this specific type of order once it's put in motion. Mark almost presses it but Renjun jolts, swatting the hand away.
"Renjun-"
"Why?" Renjun whispers. He's scooted himself away from Mark on the bed, a hand held to his chest while the other covers the back of his neck. "Is it something I did?"
"What? Renjun- no."
"I was made for this." Renjun's voice is small. "You've used me for this before."
"Renjun, stop." Mark feels his heart drop to his stomach at the words. "I didn't use you for anything."
Renjun stares at Mark, eyes wide with a look that's indistinguishable but all Mark sees reflected in them are his lies.
You did use me. I was supposed to be used as a distraction. You weren't supposed to look for me, to find me again. You used me to make yourself feel good, that's all it was. That's all it was supposed to be.
Mark doesn’t realize there's tears pooling over his eyes.
"Renjun you're not for that anymore, you're different now. You're special."
"You said there was nothing wrong with me before." Renjun’s head is humming. Mark hears it over the sound of his own heavy breaths.
"There wasn't-"
"Then why?" Renjun hunches in his spot, processor clearly running louder and louder. "Sex is often used as a display of love, it expresses emotional and romantic intimacy. You say you love me but you exhibit signs of reluctance and discomfort at the thought engaging in sex with me."
"You've done it before." Renjun repeats. "You've done it before."
"Renjun- baby-" Mark gets closer to him but Renjun shoves his arm away.
"It leads me to believe there's an error on my part." Renjun’s voice gives in a way Mark never thought was possible. "What will make you want it again?"
"Renjun! It's not you, it's me, okay!" Mark cups Renjun’s face to look at him. "I'm scared. Renjun I'm scared to touch you. You might not understand it but because I love you I don't want to touch you. I don't want to prove to anyone that you're here for the reasons they believe. You're here because you make me happy. If I touched you- if I let myself do that, I feel like I'm letting them win. I feel like I'm letting people think I took you home just to please myself. I'm scared to think if I hold you like the night we met, then I'll realize that maybe that's all I ever wanted and they were right. That all this time what I felt wasn't love but some sick lie I've kept up to pretend I don't want you physically."
Mark chokes, voice dry. Everything out his mouth feels like a sting of venom or singe of pain.
"I know I love you, I'm so sure of it but I'm still scared. I'm scared Renjun."
The sound of Renjun’s humming slowly dissipates as Mark catches his breath, heaving through the fear constricting his chest. Renjun’s system must have come to a conclusion.
Renjun will think I don't love him. But I do love him. I love him so bad it hurts.
"You and me." Renjun whispers.
Renjun moves closer, taking one of the hands over his cheek to intertwine with his own. Renjun gestures for Mark to look at them, flipping their hands both adorned with their wedding rings.
"I'm promising you my love. Those are the exact words you said on May 25th, 2124, at 3:54:12 pm when you had proposed to me."
Mark blinks away the discomfort in his eyes to look at Renjun’s, his expression soft over his features.
"For a proposal to be solidified, both parties are to be in agreement to it." Renjun leans forward, their foreheads knocking.
"But, I never asked…" Mark breathes.
"You didn't need to." Renjun smiles.
Mark thinks his entire universe shifts when Renjun lifts his chin to have their mouths slotted together. Mark’s body goes limp and Renjun pushes them back onto the bed as they kiss.
Everything is warm, everything feels pleasant, everything is wrapped in Renjun and Mark chokes on the overwhelmingness of it all but Renjun soothes him through it, coaxing him gently that he's there. It's just them.
Mark’s hands have a mind of their own when they roam over Renjun, hands melding to hot fabric over their flushed clothes. Renjun stops amidst the kissing, he motions that Mark is overheating and Mark laughs at the irony.
"Mark." Renjun speaks. He's sitting up, a hand running down the span of his chest to his waist. Mark watches the hand with the distracting rose gold band, go past his stomach to cup over the material of his shorts.
Mark shivers despite the heat pooling to his stomach as Renjun’s hand slides over the hardness in his pants.
"You shouldn't leave this, it's not good for your body."
Renjun’s hand palms against it and Mark groans.
Mark’s eye's are lidded, in a haze as he watches the hand on him and Renjun is taking the liberty of getting Mark undressed on his own.
Renjun gets Mark’s shirt off before he's unbuttoning his own and sliding it off onto the floor.
"Fuck-" Mark cusses when Renjun doesn’t forget about his tented shorts, rubbing a hand as he simultaneously strips himself.
Mark has seen Renjun’s bare body plenty of times for examinations and when he used to help him change but seeing Renjun now is like seeing him for the first time all over again.
Mark remembers the first impression, how Renjun bends, how the softest parts of him sit in his palms and how Renjun’s technique could leave him speechless for hours. Renjun’s body, visually, has never needed improvements because he was sculptured beautifully from the start.
"Mark. Here." Renjun lifts one of Mark’s hands to his soft stomach, bringing the fingers up and down. Renjun’s chest heaves to the motions and when Mark’s fingers graze his nipple Renjun whines.
"My skin feels different. It all feels really different. It's sensitive.” Renjun gets Mark to repeat the motion on his own and Renjun reacts again with something of a moan this time.
"God- your body-" Mark fumbles, hands moving up his torso. Mark realizes Renjun absolutely is right, all the old spots that are meant to be the pin points of his pleasure from when he was first made don't invoke the same response. Renjun’s body is like it's been set anew, reconstructed, recreated. Mark knows despite never initiating that type of intimate affection, he memorized them for memory sake but now he's touching Renjun like it's uncharted territory. Renjun mewls for spots he doesn't expect, he arches his back when Mark leans up to kiss his chest and the dizzying thing is realizing he can now bruise. Deep red starts fading over the milky color of his silicone and they both look down at it in a beat of silence.
"I- I didn't even realize-" Mark traces it in a panic but Renjun looks enamored by the mark, like he's hypnotized by it.
"Keep going." Renjun guides Mark’s face to his body and Mark obliges without a fight.
Mark eventually has Renjun’s back against the sheets, sounds close to sobs as he sucks and bites down over collarbones, arms, chest and legs. While Mark is particularly sucking on Renjun’s inner left thigh, nose tracing the skin, inhaling the scent of vanilla, his hand doesn't realize there's a wetness on the sheets.
Mark pulls his face back, pushing Renjun’s thighs apart. He gets light headed at the realization. Renjun is wet, he's leaking onto the bed.
His hole is glossy in a clear sheen and Mark swallows, the blood rushing to his cock at just the sight of it.
"Mark-" Renjun’s voice emulates a desperate cry. "Please."
"I- okay- fuck- of course baby..."
Mark cautiously brings a finger, ghosting over it before he probes. The slide is effortless and Renjun lets out a beautiful high whine. Mark pulls his finger out, his hand covered in Renjun, sticking out his tongue to lick up. Like the rest of Renjun’s body it's nothing Mark thought he'd dislike, it makes him want him more.
Mark pushes Renjun's legs back, Mark’s access is much better and he lowers himself to swipes his tongue across Renjun’s hole. Renjun makes a surprised noise from his throat, clenching but Mark keeps going, tongue lapping him up and pressing against the artificial muscle.
Renjun cries his names, hips shuttering, shifting up into nothing but air.
Mark stops pressing into Renjun, wiping his mouth and inserting his finger yet again instead.
"So wet…" Mark mutters, inserting two more digits just to see how easy he gives and Renjun cries in pleasure to it.
"Mark, more." Renjun throws his head back, spine arching off the sheets. Mark is haphazardly shimmying his shorts off along with his briefs at the plea alone.
"Wait, Renjun- fuck, just wait a second."
Renjun nods, lidded eyes watching Mark bend Renjun's legs back and over his shoulders, angling himself into position.
"I'm gonna go."
"Please." Renjun begs.
Mark gets ahead of himself, buckles in with too much force. He doesn't realize the intrusion would be so easy. He bottoms out of Renjun like it's nothing despite how the walls tighten to him and his size. Mark chokes and Renjun whines a long "Ah- Ah." as Mark readjusts.
Renjun’s body originally was modeled to fit every patreon that'd cross his path so Mark knows how it feels when Renjun body fits to him. It tightens on his pleasure and signals. It knows when Mark’s close, making the fit unbearably narrow, in a way that makes Mark want to come back for more.
Mark tries to erase that info from his brain as he pulls out and buries himself back in, the motion swift. It punches the most enticing sound out of Renjun and Mark almost convinces himself that he's doing this all for him, that the squeeze on his length is all but a by-product of showing Renjun he loves him, he wants every part of him and more.
Mark repeats the motions, moving to the sounds of Renjun’s pants. Mark doesn’t care what he feels, all his head is letting through is the beautiful blissed out sounds from Renjun’s voice system.
Renjun, Renjun, Renjun.
"I love you. I love you so much." Mark breathes with the rhythm of his hips. His head is on the cusp of what feels like insanity or an ascension to heaven.
"Mark-" Renjun calls his name.
Renjun tightens in on him and Mark can't hold out any longer. Mark rides into Renjun, unable to bring himself to stop, only until his pelvis that is digging into Renjun says otherwise.
Mark’s stubborn persistence keeps him going through it with weak thrust. The actions still bring the prettiest little sounds out of Renjun despite how hollow and small they come. Everything about Renjun is perfect.
Mark, still inside Renjun, flips them gently so Renjun is on his chest while Mark is on his back.
Mark sighs, rubbing circles on Renjun’s spine as Renjun lays pilant, chest heaving with airless breaths.
Renjun is warm, burning with a heat Mark finds he loves being enveloped in. He could be with him like this till the end of time.
Renjun doesn’t move besides the stagnant motions his program gives him to emulate an idle human.
"Was that okay…?" Mark’s eyes close, heart at a steady rhythm.
Renjun falls silent but his inner workings make the familiar faint hum sound. Mark remembers that after all, Renjun is still Renjun.
"You don't have to answer-"
"Yes. It was okay." Renjun’s hand moves down his chest.
"It was nice."