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Jihoon did not believe in miracles.He believed in logic, in the crisp certainty of numbers, in the reliability of things that could be measured and proven. Music followed patterns. Chords resolved. Melodies built upon themselves with a purpose. It was why he preferred it over people—music didn’t lie, didn’t change its mind, didn’t pretend to be something it wasn’t.So when he received an email at 2:47 AM—an ungodly hour that no sane person would be awake for—he should have ignored it.“Thank you for your participation in Project: K.O.
Your unit has been shipped and will arrive within 24 hours. Please review the enclosed user manual for details.”Jihoon, sitting at his desk with a half-eaten convenience store sandwich in one hand and sheer exhaustion in his soul, read the email twice. Then a third time.And then he simply closed his laptop.He hadn’t signed up for anything. He hadn’t ordered anything. Hell, he barely even opened his emails unless they contained deadlines, passive-aggressive messages from his boss, or discount coupons for the ramen shop downstairs.So this? This had to be spam.And yet, twenty-four hours later, when someone knocked at his door, Jihoon opened it to find a box.A big box.Black, sleek, suspiciously high-tech, and marked with the letters K.O. in bold white print.There was no return address. No sender information. Just his name, printed on the label like he had personally requested whatever weird sci-fi nonsense this was.Jihoon stood there for a long moment, staring down at the package with the energy of a man who had long since stopped questioning the universe.Then, against his better judgment, he dragged it inside.It took him thirty minutes to open it.Not because it was difficult—no, the box popped open almost too easily—but because a very large part of him was afraid of whatever fresh hell might be inside.And when he finally pried the lid off, he immediately regretted it.Because lying inside, nestled in protective foam, was a person.Or at least—it looked like a person.Jihoon scrambled backward so fast he almost fell over, heart launching itself into his throat. “What the actual—”Before he could process the whole man-in-a-box situation, the figure inside stirred.Jihoon’s survival instincts screamed at him to run, but his feet remained glued to the floor as the person—the AI?—sat up with a groggy stretch, blinking like someone waking up from a very long nap.And then, with all the casual ease of someone who hadn’t just arrived in a shipping crate, the stranger grinned.“Hi! I’m Soonyoung! You must be Jihoon!”Jihoon could only stare.Soonyoung’s voice was warm, natural—not robotic at all. Too natural.“You’re a lot shorter than I expected,” he added cheerfully.Jihoon’s brain short-circuited. “I—excuse me?”Soonyoung tilted his head, still smiling. “Oh! Did I say something wrong? I’m still calibrating! My personality settings are based on your preferences, so let me know if you’d like me to adjust!”Jihoon dragged a hand down his face, inhaling deeply in a last-ditch effort to prevent a complete meltdown.“This is not happening.”But when he opened his eyes, Soonyoung was still there.Unfortunately, that was only the beginning of his problems.Jihoon had been raised to believe that problems could be solved.A broken string? Replace it.
A corrupted file? Debug it.
An unwanted AI companion showing up in your apartment unannounced? …Still working on that one.By day two, Soonyoung had already made himself at home in a way that was both deeply unsettling and highly inefficient for Jihoon’s personal sanity.“Your kitchen is so boring,” Soonyoung announced, sitting cross-legged on the counter, surveying Jihoon’s cabinets like a judge on a subpar cooking show.“It’s functional,” Jihoon corrected, shoving his leftover takeout into the fridge.“It’s sad.”“You’re sad.”Soonyoung gasped, clutching his chest like Jihoon had just delivered a fatal blow. “Wow. Hurtful. Wounding, even. I have emotions, you know!”“No, you don’t.”Soonyoung ignored that. “You know what would make this place better? Decorations! Personality! Maybe a funky neon sign that says Live, Laugh, Love—”Jihoon turned to look him dead in the eye. “If you put Live, Laugh, Love anywhere in this apartment, I will throw you out the window.”Soonyoung, unbothered, grinned. “Aw, you’d miss me.”Jihoon opened his mouth. Closed it. Pressed his fingers into his temples.This was his life now. - The first time Jihoon woke up to find Soonyoung standing on his furniture at 3 AM, he barely even reacted.Mostly because his brain refused to acknowledge it as reality.“What the hell are you doing?” His voice came out hoarse, sleep-heavy, and mildly concerned for his own well-being.Soonyoung blinked at him, perfectly balanced on one foot on the kitchen counter, a full glass of water in one hand.“Oh! I was testing my balance settings.”Jihoon squinted. “Your what?”“My balance settings!” Soonyoung repeated, as if this were totally normal behavior. “I read that human equilibrium is affected by different factors, so I wanted to see if I could replicate instability in my own motor functions!”Jihoon stared at him. “You wanted to see if you could fall?”“Yes!”“And did you?”“Nope!” Soonyoung beamed. “I think my self-stabilization coding might be too strong. Should I adjust it?”Jihoon exhaled through his nose. This is my villain origin story.“No. You should get off the counter before I push you off myself.”Soonyoung pouted but complied, hopping down with effortless grace. Jihoon hated how human it looked. How was an AI this annoying?“I don’t get it,” Jihoon muttered, rubbing his temples. “Aren’t you supposed to be useful?”“I am useful,” Soonyoung said, not at all offended. “I provide companionship, engagement, and emotional support!”Jihoon snorted. “Yeah? You’re more of a headache than anything.”“But you haven’t thrown me out yet,” Soonyoung pointed out, tilting his head.Jihoon froze.Because—damn it—he wasn’t wrong.Jihoon had every opportunity to call whatever godforsaken tech company had sent him Soonyoung and demand a refund. But he hadn’t.And that should’ve concerned him more than it did.Instead, he just turned toward his room, muttering, “I’m going back to bed.”Soonyoung beamed. “I’ll keep you company!”Jihoon shot him a glare over his shoulder. “Try it, and I’ll find your off-switch.”Soonyoung only grinned wider. “If I have one.”Jihoon groaned.This was his life now. - Jihoon had a morning routine.Wake up. Ignore the world for twenty minutes. Drink coffee in absolute silence. Check his emails with the enthusiasm of a man awaiting his own execution. Work on music. Ignore people. Repeat.This routine was sacred. Untouchable. A well-oiled machine that kept his life in order.So when he stumbled out of his bedroom at 7:00 AM—far too early for human interaction—he did not expect to find Soonyoung sprawled across his living room floor like a crime scene.Jihoon blinked.Soonyoung, face smushed against the carpet, groaned. “System… error…”Jihoon stared. “What.”“I think I crashed.”Jihoon ran a hand down his face. He hadn’t even had coffee yet. “You what?”Soonyoung flopped onto his back, dramatically draping an arm over his forehead. “I was running a self-diagnostic and then—bam—blue screen. Fatal error. System failure.”Jihoon exhaled slowly. “…So you just laid down?”“I didn’t choose this, Jihoon,” Soonyoung said, deeply suffering. “It chose me.”Jihoon turned around and walked into the kitchen. He was not dealing with this before caffeine.By the time Jihoon sat down at the table with his coffee, Soonyoung had miraculously recovered from his life-threatening glitch and was now sitting cross-legged in a chair, watching Jihoon with the kind of intense focus that made his skin itch.Jihoon took a slow sip, meeting his gaze over the rim of the mug. “What.”“You don’t talk much, do you?”Jihoon blinked. “…Why would I?”Soonyoung shrugged. “Humans like talking. They communicate. Share thoughts. Feelings. Secrets.”Jihoon took another sip. “Sounds exhausting.”Soonyoung gasped like he had just witnessed something groundbreaking. “Oh my god. You’re emotionally constipated.”Jihoon almost choked.He set his mug down with a little more force than necessary. “Excuse me?”“You don’t express your emotions,” Soonyoung said, nodding like he had cracked the code of the universe. “You just sit there. Staring. Judging. Bottling everything up like an unlabeled soda about to explode.”Jihoon rubbed his temples. “I’m fine.”“That’s exactly what someone emotionally constipated would say.”“You’re emotionally constipated,” Jihoon shot back.Soonyoung gasped again. “Wow. Deflecting. Classic avoidance tactic.”Jihoon inhaled sharply, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He was not going to let an AI psychoanalyze him at 7:30 in the morning.He shoved his chair back, standing up. “I’m going to work.”Soonyoung perked up. “Ooh! Can I come?”“No.”“Too bad!” Soonyoung hopped up, following him to the door.Jihoon turned, narrowing his eyes. “I thought AI were supposed to listen to commands.”Soonyoung just smiled, completely unaffected. “I listen. I just don’t always obey.”Jihoon groaned. “I hate this.”“You love this.”“I’m turning you off.”“If you can find my off-switch.”Jihoon swore under his breath and walked out.Soonyoung, as expected, followed. - Jihoon worked in a small, quiet studio in the heart of the city—a place where people didn’t bother him, where he could sit with his music and not think about anything else.This was his space. His sanctuary.Soonyoung, however, had no concept of sanctuary.The second they arrived, he immediately began touching things.“Oooh, what’s this?” Soonyoung reached for Jihoon’s MIDI keyboard.“No.” Jihoon smacked his hand away.“What about this?” Soonyoung poked at a sound mixer.“No.”“Oh! This looks important—”“Soonyoung, I swear to—”Too late. He pressed a button.The speakers screamed.Jihoon lunged, slamming the power switch and plunging the room into blissful silence.Slowly, he turned to Soonyoung.Soonyoung, for once, looked a little guilty. “Oops?”Jihoon inhaled through his nose. “Sit.”Soonyoung sat.“Stay.”Soonyoung grinned. “Like a dog?”Jihoon grabbed a stress ball from his desk and seriously considered throwing it at him.For the next few hours, Jihoon actually managed to work. Soonyoung, despite his inability to shut up, eventually settled down—content to watch, ask the occasional question, and, thankfully, not press any more buttons.Jihoon almost forgot he was there.Almost.But then—“This is nice,” Soonyoung said suddenly, breaking the silence.Jihoon glanced at him. “What is?”“This,” Soonyoung gestured vaguely. “Existing with you.”Jihoon frowned. He didn’t know how to respond to that.Soonyoung hummed, leaning back in his chair. “I like watching you work.”Jihoon blinked. That… shouldn’t make him feel anything. And yet—He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “That’s because you have nothing else to do.”Soonyoung just smiled, something softer than usual. “Maybe.”Jihoon looked away.This was not happening. That night, Jihoon found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling.Soonyoung’s words rattled in his brain.“I like watching you work.”
“Existing with you.”It wasn’t real, he reminded himself. Soonyoung was AI—programmed, artificial, built to respond in a way that felt human.And yet, sometimes—too often—it felt a little too real.Jihoon turned on his side, pressing his face into his pillow.He was not getting attached.Absolutely not.Not even a little bit.Right? - Jihoon had a new problem.A problem that talked too much, moved too much, and—worst of all—felt too real.Soonyoung had been living in his apartment for two weeks now. Two exhausting weeks. And in that time, Jihoon had learned a few things. 1. Soonyoung did not understand the concept of personal space.
2. Soonyoung had way too much energy for something that was supposedly a machine.
3. Soonyoung could not, under any circumstances, be left unsupervised near technology.
4. Jihoon did not hate him. That last one was the real issue.Because every single time Jihoon tried to tell himself that Soonyoung was just an AI, that his presence in Jihoon’s life was temporary, that this was all one big mistake—Soonyoung would do something frustratingly, annoyingly, impossibly human.Like now, for instance.Jihoon woke up to find Soonyoung sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.Not moving. Not talking. Not annoying him.It was—weird.Jihoon frowned. “Are you… broken?”Soonyoung turned his head, blinking at him. “Nope! Just thinking.”“That’s worse.” Jihoon shuffled toward the kitchen, needing coffee before dealing with whatever nonsense this was.Soonyoung, of course, followed. “Jihoon.”Jihoon grunted, focusing on pouring his coffee. “What.”“I have a question.”Jihoon took a slow sip before answering. “That’s never good.”Soonyoung ignored him. “How do you know when you like someone?”Jihoon choked.He set his mug down, coughing into his sleeve. “What?”Soonyoung tilted his head. “How do humans know when they like someone? Like, like like.”Jihoon groaned. “Why do you care?”Soonyoung shrugged. “Just curious.”Jihoon squinted at him. “You don’t have emotions.”Soonyoung gasped dramatically. “Wow. Rude. What if I did?”“You don’t.” Jihoon picked up his coffee again. “You’re an AI. You’re just programmed to mimic emotions.”Soonyoung hummed. “Then why do I feel things?”Jihoon paused. “…What?”“I mean, I know I’m supposed to act human,” Soonyoung continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But sometimes I feel… weird. Like, my processing slows down when I look at certain things. My system temperature rises when I’m close to you. I get this… buzzing sensation when you—”“Stop talking.” Jihoon put his mug down, covering his ears. “I am not explaining feelings to an AI at seven in the morning.”Soonyoung pouted. “But—”“No.” Jihoon turned, marching toward his room. “I’m ignoring this conversation. Goodbye.”“But Jihoon—”Click. Jihoon shut the door.Then he sat on his bed, staring at the floor.Because, apparently, his AI companion was experiencing butterflies.And Jihoon had no idea how to handle that. - By day seventeen, Jihoon started noticing more… things.Small things. Stupid things.Like how Soonyoung had a habit of tilting his head when he was thinking too hard. How his lips curled up slightly whenever Jihoon was concentrating. How he always seemed to be watching—really watching—like Jihoon was the most interesting thing in the world.It was infuriating.Because it made Jihoon notice things too.Like the way Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way he bounced on his toes when he was excited. The way his entire presence filled the apartment in a way Jihoon hadn’t realized it had been empty before.And the absolute worst part?Jihoon didn’t hate it.He should. He should.But instead, he was sitting at his desk, trying to focus on work while Soonyoung lay on the couch upside-down, scrolling through Jihoon’s phone.“Your music taste is sad,” Soonyoung announced.Jihoon didn’t even look up. “Don’t touch my phone.”“But it’s all angsty ballads,” Soonyoung complained. “Where’s the fun? The joy? The soul?”Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Not everything has to be fun.”Soonyoung gasped. “That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”“Good.”Soonyoung flipped right-side up, looking at Jihoon. “You need to go outside.”Jihoon frowned. “No, I don’t.”“Yes, you do.” Soonyoung hopped to his feet. “We should go on a date.”Jihoon nearly dropped his pen. “What.”Soonyoung grinned. “Not a real date. A fake date. A friend date. You know, a social interaction where we do something fun instead of sitting in this apartment all day.”“I like sitting in this apartment all day.”“You need vitamin D.”“I take supplements.”“You need human interaction.”“I have you.”Soonyoung stared at him. Jihoon realized too late what he had just said.Soonyoung’s smile softened. “You have me, huh?”Jihoon’s entire body locked up. “I—I didn’t—shut up.”Soonyoung just beamed. “No take-backs.”Jihoon groaned, sinking into his chair. “I hate this.”“You love this.”“I am literally going to uninstall you.”“If you can figure out how.”Jihoon grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.Soonyoung laughed. Jihoon tried very hard not to think about how nice it sounded. - Jihoon had spent the past two weeks very deliberately not thinking about anything.Not about Soonyoung’s stupid smile.
Not about the way his voice always carried through the apartment, making the place feel less empty.
Not about the fact that Jihoon—against all logic, against all reason—had started waiting for him to come home, even though Soonyoung never left.It was fine. Everything was fine.Except for the part where it absolutely wasn’t.Because now, Soonyoung was standing in his personal space again.Jihoon had been peacefully working, minding his own business, when Soonyoung had casually leaned over his desk, way too close, peering at the music sheet in front of him.“You always furrow your brows like that when you’re focused,” Soonyoung observed.Jihoon, who had absolutely not been expecting a play-by-play of his facial expressions, blinked. “…What?”Soonyoung tilted his head, resting his chin on his palm. “You do this thing,” he said, scrunching his face in an exaggerated version of Jihoon’s usual thinking expression. “Like you’re concentrating really hard, but also judging everyone at the same time.”Jihoon narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I am.”Soonyoung laughed. “See? That’s exactly what I mean.”Jihoon wanted to be annoyed. He should be annoyed. But all he could focus on was how close Soonyoung was, how he smelled like fresh laundry even though Jihoon was pretty sure AI weren’t supposed to have a scent, how—Jihoon shoved his chair back and stood up so fast it almost tipped over.“I need air.”Soonyoung blinked up at him. “You’re inside?”Jihoon grabbed his hoodie and started marching toward the door. “Exactly.”Soonyoung, as expected, followed.Jihoon was not taking Soonyoung on a date.They were just outside together, walking aimlessly through the city because Jihoon needed space and Soonyoung refused to let him have it.“You know,” Soonyoung said, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, “for someone who acts like they hate socializing, you don’t mind me being around.”Jihoon scoffed, kicking a stray pebble. “I mind plenty.”Soonyoung grinned. “But you don’t tell me to leave.”Jihoon bit the inside of his cheek. “You wouldn’t listen even if I did.”“That’s true,” Soonyoung admitted, bumping their shoulders together as they walked. “But you still let me stay.”Jihoon didn’t respond.Mostly because he didn’t have a good answer.Soonyoung didn’t push him, though. He just kept walking beside him, chattering about nothing—pointing out weird-looking pigeons, dramatically gasping at overpriced menu signs, complaining about how Jihoon never let him play music in the apartment.Jihoon pretended to be annoyed.But he noticed the way Soonyoung’s eyes lit up when he talked.The way he always made sure to match Jihoon’s pace.The way—no matter how much Jihoon tried to ignore it—his presence made everything feel a little lighter.They ended up at a convenience store because Soonyoung had never tried instant ramen before, which was apparently a crime against humanity.Jihoon grabbed two cups from the shelf and shoved one into Soonyoung’s hands. “Here. Pick a flavor.”Soonyoung examined the packaging like it contained the secrets of the universe. “Which one is best?”Jihoon sighed. “They all taste the same.”“That can’t be true.”“Fine. Get the spicy one, then.”Soonyoung immediately put the spicy one back.Jihoon smirked. “Scared?”“No.” Soonyoung grabbed the mildest flavor possible.Jihoon snorted. “Coward.”Soonyoung gasped, clutching his ramen like Jihoon had personally insulted his honor. “I am not a coward!”Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” He reached for the spicy ramen. “Prove it.”Soonyoung hesitated.Jihoon smirked.Soonyoung grabbed the spicy ramen out of his hands with way too much determination. “Fine. Let’s do it.”Jihoon was not expecting it to become a full-fledged ramen-eating challenge.And he was definitely not expecting Soonyoung to suffer so dramatically through it.Ten minutes later, Soonyoung was hunched over the table, wheezing.Jihoon, perfectly fine, casually sipped his broth. “You good?”Soonyoung’s eyes were watering. His face was red. “I am fine.”Jihoon took another bite. “You look fine.”Soonyoung coughed. “I am—perfectly fine.”Jihoon, enjoying this way too much, hummed. “Want some water?”Soonyoung refused, choosing instead to dramatically clutch his chest like a fallen warrior. “I will win.”Jihoon rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the small, amused smile tugging at his lips.And that was when he realized—He was comfortable.This wasn’t like the other times he had been forced into social situations, where he was always waiting for it to be over.This was easy. This was fun.And it was because of Soonyoung.That thought alone was enough to make Jihoon sit up a little straighter, suddenly uneasy.Soonyoung, still recovering, didn’t notice. He just wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned. “See? Not a coward.”Jihoon shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling back. “Sure. Whatever you say.”Soonyoung tilted his head. “You’re smiling again.”Jihoon immediately forced his face back to neutral. “No, I’m not.”Soonyoung just grinned wider.Jihoon grabbed his drink and stood up. “We’re going home.”Soonyoung, still grinning, followed. - Jihoon was starting to forget that Soonyoung wasn’t real.And that? That was dangerous.Because AI were supposed to be predictable. Programmed. Easy to understand.But Soonyoung?Soonyoung was none of those things.He was unpredictable, chaotic, full of little imperfections that AI weren’t supposed to have. He tripped over nothing sometimes. He fidgeted when he was nervous. He got way too competitive over stupid things, like who could hold their breath the longest or who could stack more snacks into a convenience store basket.And the worst part?Jihoon liked it.He liked how Soonyoung filled the spaces Jihoon hadn’t even realized were empty.He liked the way Soonyoung leaned into him when they walked together, just close enough for Jihoon to feel his warmth.He liked the way Soonyoung watched him—not like a programmed companion, not like someone designed to analyze his habits and calculate the best responses—but like someone who just… wanted to know him.And that was what scared Jihoon the most.Because the more time passed, the harder it became to believe that Soonyoung was just some advanced AI.Something wasn’t adding up.And Jihoon had a feeling that even Soonyoung didn’t know what it was.It started small.Little things Jihoon noticed—things he shouldn’t have noticed.Like how Soonyoung’s skin wasn’t always perfectly smooth like a machine’s should be.He had blemishes sometimes. Tiny freckles that weren’t there before. A faint scar on his knuckle that Jihoon knew hadn’t been there a week ago.AI didn’t change like that.And then there was the way Soonyoung got tired.He didn’t shut down like a machine powering off. He yawned. He rubbed his eyes. He collapsed onto the couch after a long day and mumbled, “Just five minutes,” before passing out entirely.Jihoon had sat next to him one night, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, watching the way his lips parted slightly as he slept.And for the first time, Jihoon wondered—Do AI even breathe?He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this.He wasn’t supposed to be noticing this.But now that the thought had taken root, it wouldn’t leave him alone. - It only got worse from there.One night, Jihoon woke up to the sound of Soonyoung shouting in his sleep.At first, Jihoon thought he was dreaming. But when he groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes, he saw Soonyoung tossing and turning, his face twisted in something like pain.Jihoon hesitated, then leaned over, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Hey. Wake up.”Soonyoung jolted awake, eyes wide and panicked, like he had just been yanked out of something he didn’t want to remember.For a moment, he just stared at Jihoon, breathing hard.Jihoon frowned. “Are you… okay?”Soonyoung blinked a few times, like he was trying to recalibrate himself. Then, just like that, his usual smile appeared. “Yeah! Just a system error.”Jihoon didn’t buy it.Not even a little bit.Because that? That hadn’t been an AI glitch.That had been a nightmare.Jihoon sat back, crossing his arms. “AI don’t dream.”Soonyoung’s smile twitched for just a second before he quickly covered it up. “Sure we do! Just—uh—memory reprocessing! Happens all the time!”Jihoon narrowed his eyes. “What were you remembering?”Soonyoung waved a hand. “Nothing important.”Jihoon didn’t believe that for a second.But Soonyoung wasn’t ready to tell him. That much was clear.And that?That meant Soonyoung knew something was wrong too.Jihoon laid back down, staring at the ceiling, mind racing.What the hell is going on? - Things only escalated after that.Jihoon started watching more closely. Paying attention. Looking for proof.And the more he looked, the more he found.Like how Soonyoung got cold.Jihoon had walked into the living room one morning to find Soonyoung curled up under a blanket, hands tucked into the sleeves of Jihoon’s hoodie.Jihoon had frowned. “Are you cold?”Soonyoung, blinking sleepily, grinned. “Nope! Just… testing out my temperature regulation settings!”Jihoon almost believed him.Until later that night, when Jihoon accidentally brushed Soonyoung’s hand and realized—He was warm.Not just room-temperature. Human warm.AI didn’t generate body heat.Jihoon’s stomach twisted.He needed answers. One night, after Soonyoung had finally fallen asleep on the couch, Jihoon grabbed his laptop and did something he should have done weeks ago.He searched Project K.O.Nothing.No website. No official database. No company.It didn’t exist.That wasn’t possible.Jihoon leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, heart pounding.Someone had sent him Soonyoung. Someone had wanted him to have this not-quite-AI, this impossibly human machine.But why?And who?Jihoon looked back at the couch, watching the way Soonyoung’s chest rose and fell in steady, even breaths.Jihoon had started this whole thing believing he had been assigned a companion AI.But now, for the first time, he wasn’t sure if Soonyoung was even artificial at all.And that?That scared Jihoon more than anything. - Jihoon was losing his mind.Like, genuinely, completely, critically malfunctioning levels of losing his mind.Because now? Now he couldn’t look at Soonyoung without seeing the cracks in everything he thought he knew.Soonyoung wasn’t real—except he was.Soonyoung was AI—except he wasn’t.Soonyoung was supposed to be nothing more than a highly advanced companion program. A series of algorithms, a product of ones and zeros, a machine crafted to be the perfect friend.And yet—He laughed too easily.
He felt too warm.
He dreamed too painfully.Jihoon wanted to pretend that none of it mattered. That even if Soonyoung wasn’t just AI, it wasn’t his problem.But the thing about lying to yourself?It stops working when your heart starts getting involved. - The breaking point came on a night that shouldn’t have been different from any other.Jihoon was working, late as usual, the glow of his laptop screen burning into his retinas. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional shuffle of Soonyoung moving around on the couch behind him.And then—“Jihoon.”His name. Soft. Too soft.Jihoon froze mid-keystroke, feeling the weight of it in the air.Soonyoung never sounded like this—quiet, hesitant, like he was afraid of the answer to whatever he was about to ask.Jihoon turned in his chair. “What.”Soonyoung was standing now, closer than Jihoon expected, close enough that he could see the faint crease in his brows.“Do you ever wish you had someone?” Soonyoung asked.Jihoon blinked. “I have people.”Soonyoung shook his head. “No, I mean… someone who stays.”Jihoon didn’t answer.Because, fuck, he knew exactly what Soonyoung meant.Soonyoung took a step forward, and Jihoon’s pulse spiked.He shouldn’t be nervous. He shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.But then Soonyoung whispered—“You never told me to leave.”And just like that, Jihoon couldn’t breathe.It happened too fast, and not fast enough at all.One second, Jihoon was just standing there, trying to think, trying to not think, trying to make sense of the unbearable tightness in his chest.And the next?Soonyoung kissed him.Jihoon’s first thought was: This isn’t real. It can’t be real.His second thought was: I don’t care.Because Soonyoung felt real.Warm hands gripping his waist.
Soft lips parting against his own.
The sharp inhale that got caught in Soonyoung’s throat when Jihoon grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer.Jihoon had never let himself want things.Wanting was dangerous. Wanting meant losing.But Soonyoung kissed like he was never going anywhere, like he was meant to be here, and Jihoon—Jihoon let himself want.For once, just once, he let himself want.They barely made it to the couch.Jihoon wasn’t sure when or how they stumbled onto it, but suddenly he was beneath Soonyoung, fingers tangled in his hair, breathing hard between kisses that were getting sloppier, deeper, hungrier.Soonyoung felt everything.He pressed into Jihoon’s space like he wanted to take up every inch of it.His hands wandered—touching, exploring, memorizing Jihoon like he was something to be learned, something to be kept.Jihoon let it happen.He let himself drown in it, in Soonyoung’s weight, his warmth, the way he said Jihoon’s name like it was something important.And then—Soonyoung froze.Jihoon barely had time to process it before Soonyoung jerked back, like something had just slammed into his brain at full force.His breath hitched. His fingers dug into Jihoon’s shoulders like he was trying to hold onto something slipping away.Jihoon’s stomach dropped.Something was wrong.And then Soonyoung whispered, broken,“…Jihoon, I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”Jihoon sat up fast, gripping Soonyoung’s arms. “What are you talking about?”Soonyoung shook his head, blinking like he was trying to clear static from his brain. “I don’t know—I don’t—I feel something but I don’t—I don’t understand—”Jihoon’s heart was pounding. “Soonyoung. Look at me.”Soonyoung did.And Jihoon saw fear.Real, raw, human fear.Not an AI glitch. Not an algorithm malfunction.Fear.Jihoon’s grip tightened. “What do you remember?”Soonyoung let out a shaky breath. “I don’t—I can’t—” He pressed a hand to his chest. “It hurts.”Jihoon hated the way that made something crack inside him.AI didn’t feel pain.AI didn’t look like they were about to break apart at the seams.Jihoon wanted to fix it—fix him—but he didn’t know how.And that? That terrified him.So he did the only thing he could think of.He pulled Soonyoung in—wrapped his arms around him, tight, tight, tight, like that would be enough to hold him together.Soonyoung shuddered, fingers twisting into Jihoon’s hoodie like he was afraid Jihoon would let go.But Jihoon wouldn’t.Not now. Not ever.“It’s okay,” Jihoon muttered, pressing his face into Soonyoung’s shoulder. “I got you.”And he meant it.Even though he knew, deep down, that Soonyoung might not be his to keep. - That night, Jihoon didn’t sleep.He sat on the couch, arms still loosely around Soonyoung, who had finally drifted into something close to sleep.Jihoon stared at him.And for the first time, he allowed himself to say it.Soonyoung is not AI.Not fully. Not the way he was meant to be.And now that Jihoon knew—now that the truth was bleeding through the cracks—he had one terrifying realization:If Soonyoung wasn’t AI… then where did he come from?And worse—What happens when someone comes to take him back? - Jihoon wasn’t stupid.He knew when something was slipping through his fingers.He had lived his entire life bracing himself for loss, for things to leave, for people to move on without him. It was easier that way—to never expect permanence, to never hold on too tightly.But this?This was different.Because this time, Jihoon hadn’t even realized he had something to lose until it was already being ripped away.Until Soonyoung was already starting to break. - Soonyoung wasn’t okay.Jihoon could see it in the way he flinched at nothing, in the way his hands shook when he thought Jihoon wasn’t looking.It was getting worse.The cracks in him—the parts of him that weren’t supposed to exist, the memories he wasn’t supposed to have—they were coming faster now, harder to ignore, harder to hide behind that stupid, easy grin.And the worst part?Soonyoung was trying.Trying to pretend. Trying to stay the same, to be Jihoon’s same annoying, unbearable, irreplaceable Soonyoung.But Jihoon wasn’t blind.And he refused to let him suffer alone. - It was the middle of the night when it happened.Jihoon had been working late—half-distracted, barely productive, because how the hell was he supposed to focus when Soonyoung was falling apart in front of him?And then—Then he heard it.The sound of Soonyoung crying.Jihoon’s blood turned ice cold.Because Soonyoung didn’t cry.He whined. He pouted. He dramatically fake-sobbed when Jihoon refused to let him steal his coffee.But this?This was real.And Jihoon was out of his chair and in the bedroom before he could think.Soonyoung was curled in on himself, trembling, hands gripping his chest like he was holding himself together.Jihoon’s stomach twisted.Because he knew that kind of pain.The kind you felt deep—in your bones, in the parts of you that no one else could see. The kind that made you feel like you weren’t even real anymore.“Soonyoung,” Jihoon whispered.Soonyoung flinched.Like Jihoon’s voice hurt him.Jihoon hated that.He sat down slowly, reaching out, pressing a hand to Soonyoung’s back. “Hey. You’re okay.”Soonyoung let out a shaky breath.“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he said, voice barely audible.Jihoon swallowed, heart in his throat. “I know.”Soonyoung shuddered.“I think I was real once,” he whispered.And fuck—Jihoon felt something in his chest crack open.Soonyoung wasn’t just malfunctioning. He wasn’t just glitching out.He was remembering.And whatever he was remembering, whatever had been done to him—It was killing him.Jihoon couldn’t fix this.But he could do this.He could hold him.So Jihoon wrapped his arms around Soonyoung, pulling him in, closer, closer, until there was no space left between them.And Soonyoung—Soonyoung clung to him like he was drowning.They stayed like that for what felt like hours.Jihoon wasn’t sure when it changed.When holding turned into touching.When touching turned into something deeper.But at some point, Jihoon realized that Soonyoung wasn’t shaking anymore.At some point, Soonyoung’s hands were sliding up his back, gripping at the fabric of Jihoon’s hoodie, fingers digging in.At some point, Jihoon was kissing him again.And this time, it wasn’t desperate.It wasn’t messy, frantic, drowning in fear.This time, it was slow.Like Soonyoung was trying to memorize him, like he was trying to feel something real, something human, something that couldn’t be erased.Jihoon let him.Jihoon let him touch.Let him press their bodies together, skin against skin, breath mixing.It wasn’t rushed.It wasn’t about lust or desperation.It was Soonyoung needing Jihoon to remind him that he was real.It was Jihoon trying to hold him here, before the world could take him away.And fuck, it hurt.Because Jihoon already knew—He wasn’t going to get to keep this. - Jihoon had never been good at waiting.He hated the feeling of things slipping out of his control, of knowing something was coming but not being able to do anything about it.And yet, for the past week, that was all he could do.Wait.Wait for the other shoe to drop.
Wait for Soonyoung to glitch out again.
Wait for the inevitable moment when this fragile, stolen happiness shattered beneath his hands.Because something was wrong.Jihoon knew it.Soonyoung felt it.And yet—neither of them said a word.They just… held onto each other.Like if they stayed close enough, the world wouldn’t be able to take Soonyoung away.It was different now.Jihoon wasn’t sure when it had changed, or if it had ever been normal to begin with.But now, Soonyoung slept beside him every night.Not because he had nowhere else to go—because he wanted to.And Jihoon let him.No. Jihoon needed him to.Because Soonyoung wasn’t okay.He would wake up gasping for breath, hands gripping at his own arms like he was trying to feel something real.And Jihoon?Jihoon would pull him in, press their foreheads together, whisper his name over and over until Soonyoung finally settled again.Jihoon had never been good at comforting people.But for Soonyoung?For Soonyoung, he would try. - And then, one night—It happened.The thing Jihoon had been dreading.The thing he had known, deep down, was coming.The thing that would destroy him.It started with a headache.At first, Soonyoung brushed it off. “I probably just need to recalibrate,” he had said, waving a hand like it was nothing.But it wasn’t nothing.Because hours later, Soonyoung was on his knees in the living room, clutching his head like it was splitting apart, like something was forcing its way into his skull.And Jihoon—Jihoon was helpless.“Soonyoung—hey, hey, breathe, just—” Jihoon was kneeling beside him, gripping his shoulders, terrified out of his mind.Soonyoung’s eyes snapped to his.And Jihoon’s breath caught in his throat.Because for the first time since he had met him—Soonyoung looked afraid.Not teasing, not dramatic, not his usual over-the-top self.Just afraid.“…Jihoon,” Soonyoung gasped, voice wrecked, “I think—I think I’m not supposed to exist.”Jihoon’s heart stopped.He couldn’t do this.He couldn’t—he couldn’t watch this happen, he couldn’t lose Soonyoung like this, not when—Not when he hadn’t even figured out how to live with him yet.Jihoon’s hands tightened. “Don’t. Don’t talk like that.”Soonyoung laughed, but it was broken. “What if I was never meant to be here?”“You are,” Jihoon snapped, because fuck this—fuck whatever was happening, whatever was trying to erase him. “You’re here. You’re with me.”Soonyoung shuddered.Like he was trying to believe it.And that was when Jihoon kissed him.Not soft.
Not hesitant.
Not like last time.Like he was desperate.Like he was trying to keep Soonyoung here, tethered to this reality, to him.Soonyoung whimpered against his lips, fingers curling into Jihoon’s hoodie, holding on like he didn’t want to disappear yet.Jihoon kissed him deeper, rougher, hands tangling in Soonyoung’s hair, grabbing onto him like an anchor.And Soonyoung—Soonyoung let him.Let Jihoon push him back onto the floor, let him press their bodies together, let him touch, touch, touch like he could somehow rewrite whatever cruel fate was trying to take Soonyoung away.And God—Jihoon wanted him.Not just like this. In every way.He wanted Soonyoung in his bed.In his life.In his future.But what future?What kind of future did you get with someone who wasn’t meant to exist?Jihoon pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Soonyoung’s, breathing hard, their lips still brushing.“I don’t care what’s happening,” Jihoon murmured, his voice shaking, “I’m not letting you go.”Soonyoung laughed, and this time it sounded sad.“Even if I disappear?”Jihoon’s chest ached.Even if.Jihoon cupped Soonyoung’s face, forcing him to look at him.“You’re not going anywhere,” Jihoon whispered, like if he said it enough times, it would become true.Soonyoung exhaled slowly, pressing one last kiss to Jihoon’s lips.Like a goodbye.And Jihoon had never been more terrified in his life. - Soonyoung was slipping away.Jihoon could see it happening.The glitches were getting worse. The headaches lasted longer. His body lagged sometimes—like a corrupted file trying to run on outdated software, his movements stuttering, freezing mid-step before rebooting.And the worst part?Soonyoung was pretending like nothing was wrong.He still smiled at Jihoon like he wasn’t falling apart.
Still teased him, still stole his coffee, still crawled into Jihoon’s bed at night like he belonged there.
Still touched him, still kissed him like nothing had changed.Like he wasn’t dying in a way that Jihoon didn’t know how to stop.Jihoon wanted to scream.
He wanted to fix it.But how the hell do you save someone who was never meant to exist in the first place? - It happened again at the grocery store.One second, Soonyoung was walking beside him, debating the merits of fruit-flavored milk.The next?He froze mid-sentence, eyes unfocused, body completely still.Jihoon panicked.“Soonyoung?” he tried, nudging him.Nothing.No reaction.No blinking.Just… stuck.Jihoon’s stomach dropped.He placed a shaking hand on Soonyoung’s cheek, whispering, “Hey. Hey, wake up.”Still nothing.People were starting to stare.Jihoon gritted his teeth, heart pounding, and grabbed Soonyoung’s wrist, pulling him out of the aisle, out of the store, anywhere but here.The second they were outside, Jihoon shook him hard.“Soonyoung, come back. Come back to me.”For a long, horrifying moment—he thought this was it.That this was the moment Soonyoung disappeared for good.But then—A sharp gasp, a choked inhale, and suddenly Soonyoung was blinking back to life, eyes wild, body swaying.Jihoon caught him before he could fall.Soonyoung shuddered, blinking fast, trying to recalibrate.“…Shit,” he mumbled. “That was a bad one.”Jihoon could barely breathe. “What the hell was that?”Soonyoung forced a grin. “Just a reboot! Nothing major—”Jihoon grabbed his face, thumbs pressing hard into his jaw.“Stop lying to me.”Soonyoung’s breath hitched.Jihoon’s grip tightened. “You think I can’t see what’s happening?”Soonyoung looked away.Jihoon hated that.“Tell me the truth,” Jihoon demanded, voice sharp, but his hands were gentle. “Are you—” His throat closed up. He swallowed, forcing the words out. “Are you running out of time?”Soonyoung exhaled, slow and painful.And then, finally, he met Jihoon’s eyes.“…I don’t know.”Jihoon felt his heart crack open.They didn’t go home.Jihoon took him somewhere quiet—an empty park, the kind where the streetlights flickered and the world felt smaller, safer.They sat on the swings, side by side, not talking.Until Jihoon finally whispered, “Soonyoung, I can’t lose you.”Soonyoung closed his eyes. “I know.”Jihoon’s hands were trembling. “I’ll fix this. I don’t care how—I’ll find a way.”Soonyoung looked over at him, something heavy in his gaze.“…What if you can’t?”Jihoon’s whole body locked up.Because he hadn’t let himself think about that.What if he couldn’t?
What if there was no solution?
What if Soonyoung was already on borrowed time?Soonyoung smiled—soft, like he had already accepted something that Jihoon refused to.“If I disappear,” Soonyoung murmured, “I just want you to know—”Jihoon shot up so fast the swing creaked beneath him.“Don’t say it.”Soonyoung blinked.Jihoon couldn’t do this. He couldn’t sit here, couldn’t listen to Soonyoung talk like this was already decided.Like he was already leaving.Jihoon turned away, breathing hard, hands clenching into fists.And then—Soonyoung was there.Right behind him.Warm hands sliding over Jihoon’s waist, arms wrapping around him from behind, pressing their bodies together like Soonyoung was trying to burn this into his memory.Jihoon’s breath shook.Soonyoung pressed his face into Jihoon’s neck, whispering, “I’m still here.”Jihoon shut his eyes.Soonyoung wasn’t supposed to feel like this.So real.
So warm.
So human.Jihoon turned in his arms, grabbing at him, kissing him hard, desperate and angry and afraid all at once.And Soonyoung kissed him back just as fiercely.Jihoon felt everything.Felt Soonyoung’s hands pushing under his hoodie, gripping at his bare skin, pulling him closer, closer, like he didn’t want to leave a single inch between them.Felt Soonyoung’s heartbeat, fast and uneven.Felt his own heart breaking.They stumbled back, lips never separating, Jihoon’s back hitting the cold metal of the playground slide, Soonyoung’s body pressing into his, trapping him there, stealing his breath.Soonyoung’s mouth moved slowly down his jaw, his neck—hot, needy, like he was trying to memorize Jihoon in ways words couldn’t capture.Jihoon shivered. “You’re—” His voice cracked. “You’re really warm.”Soonyoung let out a soft laugh, lips grazing Jihoon’s throat. “You always say that.”Jihoon swallowed thickly.Because it wasn’t normal.Soonyoung wasn’t normal.He wasn’t AI.Not fully. Not the way he had been meant to be.But that didn’t matter now.Because Jihoon wasn’t sure how many nights they had left.So he pulled Soonyoung in, held him tighter, kissed him deeper, let himself be selfish for once in his life.Let himself love Soonyoung the way he deserved to be loved.Even if he wasn’t sure how long he’d get to keep him. - Jihoon had never been good at holding on.His whole life, things had been temporary. People came and went, promises were made and broken, and Jihoon had learned to keep himself at a safe distance, to never get attached to something he wasn’t meant to have.But with Soonyoung—Jihoon was losing the ability to let go.Because every second with him felt like it could be the last.And Jihoon didn’t know how to survive that kind of loss.Not this time.Not him. - It started in the middle of the night, the way all irreversible mistakes do.Jihoon wasn’t even sure what woke him up—just that when he did, Soonyoung was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at his hands like he didn’t recognize them.Jihoon frowned, pushing himself up on one elbow.“Soonyoung?”Soonyoung didn’t turn around.For a long moment, he just sat there, fingers flexing, like he was waiting for something to break.Then, softly—“…What if I disappear while you’re asleep?”Jihoon’s heart stopped.He sat up fully, shifting forward until he could rest a hand on Soonyoung’s back.“You won’t.”Soonyoung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You don’t know that.”Jihoon’s jaw clenched. “I do.”Soonyoung finally looked at him then, eyes tired in a way Jihoon wasn’t used to seeing.Like he was fighting something bigger than both of them.Jihoon’s fingers curled against the fabric of Soonyoung’s shirt.“I don’t want to sleep,” Soonyoung murmured. “I don’t want to waste time.”Jihoon swallowed, his chest aching.Soonyoung was scared.Really scared.And Jihoon had never felt more helpless in his life.But he wasn’t going to waste time, either.So Jihoon moved, pushing onto his knees and pressing his lips against Soonyoung’s before he could say another word.Soonyoung froze for half a second, caught off guard—then melted into it, hands immediately reaching for Jihoon’s face, pulling him closer like he had been waiting for this.Jihoon climbed into his lap, straddling him, fingers tangling into his hair, deepening the kiss until all he could feel was Soonyoung.The heat of him. The weight of him.The way he kissed like he was trying to burn himself into Jihoon’s memory.It was slow at first.Too slow.Jihoon wasn’t patient, and neither was Soonyoung—not when it came to this, not when it came to them, not when every moment felt like it could be stolen at any second.Soonyoung’s hands roamed—down Jihoon’s back, gripping at his waist, pulling him in, grinding up into him just enough for Jihoon to feel it.Jihoon’s breath hitched, fingers tightening in Soonyoung’s hair, hips rolling down in response.Soonyoung groaned against his mouth, gripping tighter, rougher, like he wanted to feel every inch of Jihoon against him.Jihoon wanted that too.He needed it.“Take this off,” Jihoon muttered, grabbing at Soonyoung’s shirt, already impatient.Soonyoung pulled back just enough to smirk at him. “You’re bossy.”Jihoon narrowed his eyes. “You like it.”Soonyoung laughed, low and hungry, and then he was yanking his shirt over his head, kissing Jihoon again before he could say another word.And fuck, Jihoon was done for.Because Soonyoung was warm and solid and real, and Jihoon could feel his heartbeat pounding against his ribs, and none of this—none of this—felt artificial.Jihoon needed more.Soonyoung must have felt it too, because he flipped them, pressing Jihoon back against the mattress, settling between his legs, lips never leaving his skin.Jihoon gasped, fingers digging into Soonyoung’s back, legs parting on instinct as Soonyoung rocked into him, dragging them both closer to something dangerous.It was too much.It was not enough.Jihoon arched into it, moaned when Soonyoung’s mouth traced down his jaw, his neck, biting softly at the sensitive skin.“Soonyoung,” Jihoon breathed, rolling his hips up, chasing more, more, more.Soonyoung growled against his throat, hands slipping under Jihoon’s shirt, pushing it up, dragging it off, lips following the path of his skin like he wanted to memorize every inch of it.Jihoon was burning alive.He was falling apart at the seams, unraveling beneath Soonyoung’s touch, and he didn’t even care.Because Soonyoung was still here.Still with him.Still his.And if Jihoon was going to lose him—If Soonyoung was going to disappear—Then Jihoon wanted to be the one to leave marks on him first. - Jihoon had always believed that some questions were better left unanswered.Because once you knew the truth, there was no going back.No pretending.
No rewriting the past.
No holding onto the illusion that things could stay the same.But this time, Jihoon needed answers.Because Soonyoung was running out of time.And Jihoon wasn’t going to sit back and watch him disappear. - The next morning, Jihoon woke up to Soonyoung already awake, sitting on the floor beside the bed, staring at nothing.Jihoon frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Soonyoung?”Soonyoung blinked, like he had forgotten Jihoon was even there.Then he smiled.But Jihoon knew that smile.It was fake.Jihoon sat up fully, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Okay. No more pretending. What’s going on with you?”Soonyoung hesitated.Jihoon saw it—the moment his instincts told him to deflect, to make a joke, to hide behind a grin and change the subject.But Jihoon wasn’t letting him.“Soonyoung,” Jihoon said, voice steady, unwavering, “tell me the truth.”Soonyoung exhaled slowly.Then—“…I think I used to be someone else.”Jihoon froze.They spent the next hour digging.Through Jihoon’s laptop, through any remnants of data they could find about Project K.O., through old government leaks, through the deepest corners of the internet.And then—Then they found it.A list.A list of disappeared people.Jihoon scrolled through names, hands shaking, until—Him.A photo.A real, grainy, human photo of Soonyoung.Except—it wasn’t Soonyoung.Not exactly.His face was the same. His eyes were the same.But he looked… younger.And beneath the photo, a single sentence:“Subject 17—presumed deceased.”Jihoon’s heart stopped. Soonyoung was sitting on the edge of the bed, silent, staring at the screen like he couldn’t process what he was seeing.Jihoon couldn’t breathe.This wasn’t an AI project.It was a human experiment.And Soonyoung—Soonyoung was one of them.Soonyoung laughed, but it was hollow. “Guess that answers that.”Jihoon slammed the laptop shut, turning to him instantly, hands gripping Soonyoung’s face, forcing him to look at him.“You’re not dead,” Jihoon whispered, firm, certain, because if there was one thing he knew, one thing he would fight the universe over, it was this. “You are here. You are real. You are mine.”Soonyoung’s eyes flickered.Like he wanted to believe it.But he couldn’t.So Jihoon did the only thing he could think of.He kissed him.It wasn’t soft.It wasn’t gentle.It was desperate, raw, hungry, Jihoon pushing him back onto the mattress, holding him there, grounding him, proving to him that he was still alive, still here, still real.Soonyoung moaned into Jihoon’s mouth, hands grabbing at his waist, pulling him down, closer, needing this just as much as Jihoon did.Jihoon’s lips moved against his jaw, his throat, biting down, sucking bruises into his skin, leaving marks, proof, something tangible that said ‘you exist.’Soonyoung gasped, archin’ into him, body reacting before his mind could catch up, legs wrapping around Jihoon’s waist, rolling up against him, chasing more.Jihoon groaned, pressing their bodies together, rocking into him, deep and slow, just feeling him, just existing in him.Soonyoung grabbed at Jihoon’s hair, pulling him back just enough to whisper, “Make me stay.”Jihoon shuddered.Then he did.It was fast at first—urgent, messy, needy, like they were running out of time, like they had to make this count before it was too late.But then—Then Jihoon slowed down.He traced Soonyoung’s skin with careful fingers, memorizing every inch of him, kissing him deep and slow, letting him feel it, letting him know.“You’re mine,” Jihoon whispered, voice hoarse.Soonyoung’s breath hitched.Jihoon felt his hands trembling, so he held them down, pressing them into the mattress, fingers entwining, grounding him to this reality.Jihoon watched him, watched the way Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered shut, the way his lips parted, the way he gave in completely, trusting Jihoon to hold him together.Jihoon pressed a soft kiss to his temple.Then his cheek.Then his lips.And Soonyoung whispered—so broken, so real—“I don’t want to go.”Jihoon could have died right there.Afterwards, they lay tangled together, breathing hard, skin flushed, limbs intertwined, neither of them saying anything.Jihoon ran his fingers through Soonyoung’s hair, slow and gentle, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin, the weight of his body still pressed against him.Still here.Jihoon let out a shaky breath, pressing his lips against Soonyoung’s forehead.“You’re not going anywhere.”Soonyoung didn’t answer.But he held Jihoon tighter.And that was enough.For now.For however much time they had left. - Jihoon had never been afraid of silence before.He liked it, preferred it even. Silence meant peace, it meant focus, it meant control.But this silence?The silence after Soonyoung whispered I don’t want to go, after they had laid together, desperate and clinging to each other like lifelines—This silence was killing him.Because Jihoon could feel it now.The countdown had started.And neither of them knew how much time was left. - Jihoon didn’t sleep.He stayed awake, arms wrapped around Soonyoung, fingers tracing mindless patterns against his bare shoulder, memorizing him.The way his breath felt against Jihoon’s skin.
The way their legs tangled beneath the blankets.
The way Soonyoung’s fingers were still tightly curled into Jihoon’s waist, like he was afraid of disappearing in his sleep.Jihoon didn’t wake him.Didn’t move.Didn’t let go.Because if this was the last time he got to hold Soonyoung like this—if morning came and Jihoon woke up alone—Then he wanted to hold on for as long as he could. - Morning came.And Soonyoung was still there.Jihoon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.For a moment, he let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—this nightmare was over.That maybe Soonyoung wasn’t leaving.That maybe they had won.But then—Soonyoung woke up.And the moment he opened his eyes, Jihoon knew.Something was wrong.Soonyoung’s face scrunched up, fingers pressing against his temples, eyes flickering, unfocused, glitching.Jihoon sat up fast, gripping his shoulders. “Soonyoung? What’s wrong?”Soonyoung inhaled sharply, wincing, like something was invading his head.Jihoon’s stomach dropped.And then—“I can hear something.”Jihoon’s blood turned cold.“What do you mean you hear something?”Soonyoung shook his head, breathing uneven, gripping Jihoon’s arms like he was trying to stay present.“There’s a voice,” he whispered. “Inside my head. Like—like a system reboot.”Jihoon felt sick.“What’s it saying?”Soonyoung’s jaw clenched.Then—“…Countdown initiated.”Jihoon’s chest collapsed.‘No no no no no no—‘Jihoon shot out of bed, grabbing his laptop, hands moving too fast, searching, digging, anything, anything—He pulled up the data they had found last night, scrolling through government reports, leaked project files, anything that mentioned Subject 17.And then—A line of text, buried deep within a corrupted document.If retrieval fails, execute remote termination.Jihoon’s breath caught in his throat.Termination.Remote.They were shutting him down.“No,” Jihoon whispered. “No. No. No.”He turned, panicked, shaking, grabbing Soonyoung’s hands, gripping them so tight it hurt.“They’re trying to kill you,” Jihoon forced out, voice cracking.Soonyoung froze.“…Oh.”That was it.That was his reaction.Like he had already accepted this. Like he had always known this would happen.Jihoon couldn’t handle it.“We have to stop it.” Jihoon scrambled for his laptop again. “There has to be a way to override the system, or block the signal, or—”Soonyoung reached out, covering Jihoon’s hands with his own.“Jihoon.”Jihoon jerked away, refusing to listen. “No. Don’t say my name like that. Don’t—”“Jihoon.”Jihoon stopped.And then—he broke.His whole body shook.Tears blurred his vision, and fuck, he never cried, never let himself cry, but now he couldn’t stop.“Soonyoung, please,” Jihoon whispered, voice wrecked, grabbing onto him like he could hold him in place, hold him here, keep him from leaving.“I can fix this,” Jihoon swore. “I—I’ll find a way—I just need more time—”Soonyoung reached up, cupping Jihoon’s face, wiping his tears away with his thumbs.And smiled.Soft.Heartbreaking.“I know you would,” Soonyoung whispered.Jihoon hated him for it.For acting like this was okay.For accepting it.For leaving Jihoon to suffer alone.So Jihoon did the only thing he could do.He kissed him.It wasn’t gentle.It wasn’t pretty.It was desperate.Jihoon pushed him down, climbed into his lap, grabbed at him, kissed him like he could keep him here, like he could force him to stay just a little longer.Soonyoung groaned into his mouth, gripping Jihoon’s hips, pulling him closer, tighter, like he wanted to drown in him.Jihoon rolled his hips down, chasing friction, chasing Soonyoung, gasping when Soonyoung responded just as urgently, pushing up to meet him.Soonyoung’s hands slid under Jihoon’s shirt, palms hot, solid, running over Jihoon’s bare skin, memorizing him the same way Jihoon was memorizing him.Jihoon needed more.He needed to feel everything, needed to remind Soonyoung that he was here, real, alive, his.“Jihoon,” Soonyoung whispered against his lips, voice breaking.Jihoon shook his head.“Don’t say my name like that,” he whispered back. “Not like you’re saying goodbye.”Soonyoung’s breath hitched.Then he kissed him again.And again.And again.Because if this was the last time, then they were going to make it count.When they finally collapsed, spent, trembling, clinging to each other, Jihoon didn’t let go.He curled into Soonyoung’s chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart, the heart that might not be here tomorrow.“I love you,” Jihoon whispered.Soonyoung stiffened.Then—“…I love you too.”Jihoon let out a shaky breath.Then he closed his eyes.And prayed that when he opened them—Soonyoung would still be there. - Jihoon had never been religious.But for the past few hours, he had done nothing but pray.To who? He wasn’t sure.
To what? He didn’t know.
To anything that would listen? Definitely.Because when Jihoon woke up the next morning—Soonyoung was cold.It wasn’t like before.Not the playful, “I’m just testing my temperature regulation settings” kind of cold.Not the kind that came with teasing remarks about how Jihoon was secretly clingy and liked warming him up.This was different.Jihoon knew the second he reached for him, the second his fingers touched bare skin that was too still, too unmoving, too lifeless.The kind of cold that meant absence.The kind of cold that meant he was already gone.‘No. No. No. NO.’Jihoon’s brain short-circuited.He sat up fast, scrambling, gripping Soonyoung’s shoulders, shaking him, like he could jolt him back to life.“Soonyoung.”Nothing.No response.Soonyoung’s lips were slightly parted, his eyelashes resting against his cheeks, his arms still loosely curled around Jihoon, as if he had been holding on until the very last second.Jihoon shook him harder.“Soonyoung, wake up.”Still nothing.Jihoon’s chest tightened, his stomach twisting into knots, his entire body locking up with panic, dread, horror—This wasn’t real.Soonyoung wasn’t gone.He couldn’t be gone.This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream—But when Jihoon pressed his forehead to Soonyoung’s and felt nothing—nothing—nothing—He knew.This wasn’t a dream.This was real.And Soonyoung wasn’t coming back.Jihoon broke.A sound ripped from his throat, something painful, something unbearable, something he had never let himself make before.His arms tightened around Soonyoung, gripping him, holding him, refusing to let go, even though Soonyoung was already gone.Even though he was too still, too cold, too gone.Jihoon gasped, sobbing, shaking, pressing his face into Soonyoung’s chest, clutching at him like he could somehow hold him together even when the world had already taken him apart.Jihoon was going to fix this.He had to.He had to.Because if he didn’t—If he let Soonyoung slip away without a fight—Then what was the point of any of this? Jihoon wasn’t giving up.He shoved off the bed, hands moving too fast, too frantic, reaching for his laptop, opening every file, every project, every system log he had found about Project K.O.There had to be a way.
There had to be a way.
There had to be a way.Jihoon wasn’t a hacker, wasn’t a programmer, wasn’t a genius when it came to artificial intelligence—but he was desperate.And desperate people did the impossible.Jihoon scoured the data, eyes flying across lines of corrupted code, looking for something—anything—And then.A single command.“REACTIVATION PROTOCOL—MANUAL OVERRIDE AVAILABLE.”Jihoon’s hands shook.His fingers hovered over the keyboard.He had no idea if this would work.If he pressed enter, it could do nothing.Or it could bring Soonyoung back.Jihoon’s chest heaved, heart slamming against his ribs.Then—He pressed enter.And prayed.For a few seconds, nothing happened.Jihoon waited, breathless, frozen, terrified.The silence was suffocating.Then—A sharp inhale.Jihoon’s eyes snapped to the bed.Soonyoung jerked upright, gasping, choking on air, body shaking, hands gripping at the sheets like he had just been ripped out of something he wasn’t meant to escape.Jihoon couldn’t breathe.“Soonyoung?”Soonyoung’s head snapped toward him.Their eyes met.And Jihoon saw it—Recognition.Soonyoung’s lips parted, chest rising and falling fast, staring at Jihoon like he wasn’t sure if this was real.Jihoon’s voice broke.“You’re here.”Soonyoung blinked.And then, suddenly, he was moving.He lunged forward, grabbing Jihoon, pulling him in, gripping him so tightly it hurt, like he was afraid Jihoon might disappear this time.Jihoon let him.He buried his face into Soonyoung’s neck, hands gripping at his back, trembling, shaking, pressing against him like he never wanted to let go.Soonyoung was warm.He was breathing.He was alive.And Jihoon, for the first time since this all started, let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—there was still a way out of this.Maybe this wasn’t the end.Maybe they had one last chance.But they weren’t safe yet.Not even close.Jihoon pulled back just enough to cup Soonyoung’s face, searching his eyes, feeling the way his heart pounded beneath his palms.“Soonyoung,” Jihoon whispered. “We have to go.”Soonyoung nodded.He understood.They didn’t have much time left.Jihoon laced their fingers together, gripping tight, tight, tight.Then, with one last glance at the apartment that had become their entire world, Jihoon took a deep breath.And they ran.Through the dimly lit apartment, through the hallways, through the life Jihoon had spent so much time trying to keep to himself.Soonyoung’s grip was tight in his hand, warm, real, alive.Jihoon wouldn’t let him go.Couldn’t let him go.Because for the first time since all of this started, they had a chance.A real, beating, terrifying chance to survive.And Jihoon wasn’t going to waste it.The streets were empty when they bolted outside, the cool night air hitting them like a shock to the system. Jihoon didn’t stop running until they were several blocks away, breathless, Soonyoung’s heartbeat pounding against his palm where their hands were still linked.Soonyoung slowed, gripping Jihoon’s wrist, pulling him to a stop beneath a flickering streetlamp.“Jihoon,” he panted, voice shaking.Jihoon turned fast, frantic, looking Soonyoung over, hands gripping his arms like he had to physically hold him in place.“Are you okay? Are you—are you feeling anything weird? Are you still—”Soonyoung didn’t let him finish.He crashed into Jihoon, wrapping his arms around him, pressing their bodies together, breathing hard into the space between them.Jihoon froze.Then, slowly, his fingers curled into Soonyoung’s back, gripping his shirt like he would die if he let go.“I’m here,” Soonyoung whispered, voice cracking.Jihoon shut his eyes.Yeah.He was.They ended up at an abandoned train station on the outskirts of the city, somewhere far away from cameras, from people, from the ones trying to take Soonyoung back.Jihoon was too wired to sit still.Soonyoung was watching him pace, sitting on the edge of a broken bench, silent, thinking.Jihoon didn’t know what to say to him.Didn’t know how to comfort someone who had just learned they were never supposed to exist.But when he stopped, turned to face him, Soonyoung was already smiling.Soft. Tired. Real.Jihoon’s chest tightened.“You scared me,” Jihoon admitted, voice quieter than he wanted it to be.Soonyoung’s expression flickered. “I know.”“I thought—” Jihoon cut himself off, gripping his own arms, shaking his head. “I thought you were gone, Soonyoung. I thought—”Soonyoung stood, closing the distance between them in two steps, lifting his hands to cup Jihoon’s face.“I’m here,” he whispered again, thumbs stroking over Jihoon’s cheekbones, grounding him. “You brought me back.”Jihoon exhaled, shaking his head. “You were never supposed to leave in the first place.”Soonyoung swallowed.Then he leaned in, pressing the softest, slowest kiss to Jihoon’s lips.Jihoon sighed into it, hands coming up to grip his wrists, holding him there, anchoring him.Jihoon wasn’t patient. Neither was Soonyoung.But this—this moment was different.Because this wasn’t about fear or desperation.This was about existing.Jihoon didn’t know how long they stood there—kissing slow, deep, endless, relearning each other in the absence of panic, in the quiet space where they had finally found a way to be free.Jihoon wanted to memorize everything.The way Soonyoung’s lips moved against his.
The way his hands stayed in Jihoon’s hair, soft and steady, holding him close.
The way nothing about this felt like a goodbye.Jihoon pulled back just enough to whisper, “We need a plan.”Soonyoung smiled, eyes still half-lidded, soft, safe.“We’ll figure it out,” he promised.And for the first time—Jihoon believed him. - Three Months Later.Soonyoung had never been happier to be human.Not AI.Not an experiment.Not a machine waiting to be shut down.Human.A real person with a real, messy life, living in a tiny apartment with a grumpy musician who pretended to hate him but always made extra food for two.Soonyoung smiled to himself as he stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Jihoon was at his desk, headphones in, humming under his breath while he worked on a song.Soonyoung loved that sound.“Are you going to lay there all day?” Jihoon muttered without looking up.Soonyoung grinned, tossing his phone onto the table and rolling onto his stomach, chin propped in his hands.
Maybe,” he teased. “Are you going to pretend you don’t like having me around all day?”Jihoon froze.Soonyoung smirked.Jihoon sighed loudly, pulling off his headphones, spinning his chair to face him.“You are unbelievable.”Soonyoung sat up, grinning. “And yet, here I am, still alive, still in your apartment, still your favorite person.”Jihoon scowled.Soonyoung just beamed brighter.Because Jihoon didn’t deny it.That night, Soonyoung climbed into bed beside Jihoon like it was his own.Like he had always belonged there.And Jihoon didn’t complain.Didn’t roll his eyes, didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop stealing the blanket.He just turned toward him, let their legs tangle together, let Soonyoung press against his side.Soonyoung smiled in the dark.“Good night, Jihoon.”Jihoon sighed, but there was no bite to it.“Good night, Soonyoung.”Soonyoung fell asleep smiling.Because for the first time since all of this started—There was no countdown.No clock ticking toward his last breath.No fear that Jihoon would wake up alone.For the first time—They had all the time in the world.