Work Text:
To be fair, when Mingi first meets Yeosang, circumstances aren’t exactly conducive to having a normal introductory conversation.
The distress call comes in right in the middle of the sleeping shift, dragging the crew of the Destiny from their beds in various states of wakefulness, to alter their course towards the malfunctioning freight vessel currently collapsing in on itself in the deadzone between solar systems they’re currently traversing.
Hongjoong and Yunho co-pilot the ship while Mingi oversees the engines, Jongho keeps a lookout, and San mans the guns in case there’s any space junk drifting loose from the wreck that needs blasting before it hits them. Seonghwa stays on the comms channel, listening for updates as the freighter’s crew are dispatched into their escape pods, and the three other ships in the airspace begin converging on the site, ready to pluck the pods out of their helpless drifting and get the crew to safety.
The Destiny is one of the smallest ships to respond to the SOS, and also one of the furthest away, so by the time they arrive on the scene, there isn’t a lot left to do. Most of the escape pods have been scooped up by a passenger transport ship that was fortunately passing, and a couple of courier vessels are rounding up the stragglers.
One pod, however, is drifting out of their reach, pulled into the orbit of their wrecked ship and sailing around to the far side of the vessel. The passenger ship won’t be able to manoeuvre quickly enough to reach them, so Hongjoong barks out some orders and the Destiny quickly aligns itself with the pod.
It’s not their first time rescuing escape pods out of deep space, and thankfully it goes relatively smoothly. Their grappling hooks attach to the pod and reel it in, their bay doors open to accept it without issue, sealing again behind the pod with a hiss. As soon as they’re safely on board, Hongjoong and Yunho kick the ship into full speed, quickly putting some distance between them and the hazardous pull of the wrecked freighter before setting them back to neutral once it’s safe to drift for a little, so they can assess the situation.
In the meantime, the bay has depressurised again, so the survivors can disembark.
Everyone hurries down to greet them, Seonghwa grabbing his med-kit on the way, just in case. They gather in the dock area just as the escape pod’s doors unseal with a hiss of air. Two figures emerge, one supporting the other, and Mingi gets his first clear look at the newcomers.
The one leaning heavily on his companion is a young man, probably around the same age as most of the Destiny’s crew, with lengthy black hair dyed partially white. He has tanned skin and a narrow face, and looks spooked, eyes darting around to take all of them in with a mix of apprehension and relief.
The second person, Mingi is quick to realise, is not a person at all, but an android.
He’s realistic enough that he could pass for a human at a glance, but as he draws closer, it becomes apparent that his face is a bit too perfect to be real. He walks stiffly, supporting the first person, and his expression is completely blank as he stares straight ahead, eyes slightly unfocused.
He must be either a very valuable model or somehow necessary to assist the human, to have been granted a place on an escape pod. Either that, or the ship was understaffed and had an abundance of escape pods compared to the size of the crew.
Mingi’s attention is drawn back to the human as he clears his throat and straightens a little, stepping away from the android’s support with some effort.
“Thanks so much for picking us up,” he says, looking between before settling on Hongjoong as their obvious spokesperson.
Hongjoong nods sharply, clearly eager to have this conversation quickly so he can get back to the bridge and keep moving away from the wreck.
“Happy to have been able to help. I’m Hongjoong, captain of the Destiny, and this is my crew.”
“I’m Wooyoung,” says the man, then nods back at the android. “This is Yeosang.”
Mingi smiles to himself. He likes when people give their androids proper names rather than just the factory defaults like E6 or R17, or some equally uncreative nickname, like the regrettably popular ‘Robo’ or ‘Droid’.
Recognising that he’s being introduced, ‘Yeosang’ bows politely.
“And where are you headed?” Wooyoung asks.
“We were headed to Aurora,” says Hongjoong, “But we’re probably going to have to make other arrangements now, to stop somewhere closer. We used up a lot of fuel coming to get you just now, and I imagine you’ll want to be let off at the next possible port?”
Wooyoung raises his eyebrows.
“Aurora would be perfect, actually, if you don’t mind us hitching for that long. We can help with fuel if you need.” He turns back to nod at the escape pod. “The main ship’s fuel got redirected to our escape pods while we were preparing for evac, and our tanks were pretty full, so the escape pods all got filled to capacity as well. We could easily pipe it over to your tanks, if you’ve got the gear. Say, how much have you got in your tanks right now?”
Hongjoong looks over at Mingi, who answers “544 units.”
Wooyoung nods thoughtfully.
“Alright,” he says, “And we’ve got 330, so…”
He turns and looks over his shoulder at the android standing behind him.
“Hey, Yeosang!”
The android blinks, presumably waking from stand-by mode, and looks over at Wooyoung expectantly.
“What’s 544 plus 330?”
“874,” replies the android promptly.
“That sounds better,” says Wooyoung. “And how many litres of fuel would a ship this size use per day of constant flight, d’you reckon?”
“Most ships in the E-class size bracket use approximately 15 units per day,” replies the android.
“Huh, ok,” says Wooyoung, “In that case, what’s 874 divided by 15?”
The android pauses for a second, calculating.
“58.26.”
“58 days’ worth of fuel,” Wooyoung repeats, turning back to the others. “Well, we should be able to make it then, shouldn’t we? Aurora is a 50-day flight from here, give or take.”
And so, it’s decided. Wooyoung and Yeosang will join their flight for the remaining 50 days of their journey – quite a short trip by deep-space standards – in return for their fuel reserves, which Mingi sets about transferring over to their tanks while Hongjoong and Yunho hurry back to the bridge.
Seonghwa checks Wooyoung for injuries, concerned by the way the android had to support him earlier, and concludes that it’s mostly shock and whiplash from the rough ride in the escape pod, although he also seems to have hurt his knee in the rush to board. Seonghwa tells him to rest, and shows Wooyoung and his android to their spare cabin.
Not long after, the rest of the crew settle down for the sleep cycle, with the exception of San, who is on first watch. Mingi types up a message for Yeosang to report to the engine room first thing after the wakeup call, sends it so Wooyoung’s room’s interface so it will be seen in the morning, then settles down to sleep.
The next morning, Mingi arrives at the engine room to find the android waiting quietly outside, and nods in approval.
“Good, you got my message,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” says the android promptly, and Mingi grimaces.
“Call me Mingi, not sir,” he instructs, hoping that’s enough to override whatever speech defaults the android has been programmed with.
“Ok, Mingi,” says the android, with a small smile.
Mingi finds himself smiling back automatically, even though the android’s smile isn’t real. Whoever manufactured him clearly put a lot of effort into modelling the facial components, resulting in a much nicer smile than most of the uncanny ones produced by the androids Mingi’s worked with in the past.
He can’t tell exactly who Yeosang’s manufacturer was, but he’s obviously not from one of the main-stream brands, or Mingi would recognise the mass-produced face from the billboards and catalogues. He’s never seen an android model with this face though, meaning Yeosang is either from a much smaller production line by a lesser-known company, or even a bespoke model.
Still, that’s a question for another time, when they don’t have pressing maintenance to do.
Mingi opens the door to the engine room, and beckons for Yeosang to follow him inside. The android looks around with apparent interest, taking longer than Mingi would expect to scan the area.
“You’ve been in an engine room before?” Mingi checks.
“Oh, yes,” Yeosang nods at once. “I’ve been in lots of engine rooms, but never one this small, or this old.”
Mingi snorts aloud at the android’s bluntness. He’d take offence if it was another person saying such things about his precious ship, but, well, facts are facts. To put it more politely, the Destiny is a compact model, which could charitably be called a refurbished vintage, but Mingi can hardly blame the other machine for not being tactful about it. If Yeosang has spent all his time on industrial freighters like the one he was rescued from yesterday, then the Destiny’s engine room is likely a shock to the system, so to speak.
Deciding not to dwell on it, Mingi fetches a tablet and stylus from the nearby bench and turns back to the android.
“Alright, Yeosang,” he says, “What duties did you have on your previous ship?”
“I assisted on the navigation team,” Yeosang answers promptly, “and I helped in the engine room when required.”
Mingi nods, jotting this down.
“Good, good,” he says. “I imagine you can have a similar role here. Yunho and San mostly have navigation under control, but it will be useful having an extra pair of hands in the engine room. I won’t need you all the time, but I’d like you be prepared to help out for up to a few hours at a time when required on the remainder of our trip.”
Mingi pauses and looks up sternly.
“And I want to make it clear from the outset that you’re not to work in the engine room unsupervised without my express clearance, or do anything here without direct instructions. We keep full manual control over the engines on this ship, no routine automatic updates or unchecked AI repair work. Is that understood?”
“Only work in the engine room with your supervision or clearance,” Yeosang repeats back at once, nodding. “Understood.”
“Ok, good.” Mingi goes back to his notes. “Are you certified for hardware repair?”
“Yes.”
“And software programming?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any pre-existing duties or instructions from Wooyoung or anyone else that might conflict with you working in the engine room?”
Yeosang takes a second to answer, like the question has confused him slightly, but then he shakes his head.
“No, no other jobs I need to do while I’m here.”
“Excellent,” says Mingi. “How much recharge time do you generally need?”
Yeosang blinks.
“For a rest cycle?” he asks. “I can run on less than eight hours’ sleep if I need to, but it’s not preferable.”
“Huh, ok.”
Mingi notes that down with a hum. That’s an abnormally long recharge period for an android of his quality. Perhaps he’s not as new as he looks. It sounds like he might be overdue a battery replacement. Mingi makes a side note to mention this to Wooyoung when they reach the next port.
It’s cute that Yeosang refers to recharging as ‘sleep’ though. Mingi wonders if it’s a habit he learned from Wooyoung.
“Alright then,” he says, sliding his stylus away. “We’ve got lots of maintenance and checks to get through after yesterday’s mad dash flight to reach the wreck, so let’s get to it.”
A couple of hours later, Yeosang returns to his cabin, where Wooyoung is still resting in bed.
“You were gone for ages,” he says, sitting up as Yeosang closes the door behind him. “What happened? Is everything alright?”
“Oh, yeah,” says Yeosang, dropping into the nearby chair, “They just wanted me to help out in the engine room for a bit.”
“Ah,” Wooyoung settles back against his pillows. “Damn, you’re being put to work straight away, huh? I wonder why they didn’t ask for me too.”
“Seonghwa did say yesterday that you should be resting,” says Yeosang. “That’s probably why. How’s your knee, by the way?”
“Bit sore, it’ll be fine in a day or two,” says Wooyoung dismissively. “More importantly, how was working with that mechanic? Is he nice? Friendly? Or is he one of the rude ones?”
“I think he’s ok,” says Yeosang. “He’s very down-to-business, but I appreciate how directly he speaks.”
Wooyoung squints.
“Why does that sound like he’s a dick and you’re trying to be polite about it?”
Yeosang laughs.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he says. “He just says everything clearly, without frills, and it makes him easy to understand. You know I prefer it when people are up-front about what they want. I’m so bad at reading between the lines, I hate when people just imply things and I’m meant to figure it out.”
Understanding dawns on Wooyoung’s face and he nods.
“Ah, gotcha,” he says. “Well then, that’s good. Maybe you guys can be friends!”
Yeosang nods earnestly.
“I hope so,” he says. “He’s being very professional right now, but we’ll be working together for a couple of months. I’d like to get to know him.”
And so the days pass, and things settle into a routine. Mingi’s job is much the same, except that now whenever he runs into a problem, or a boring or difficult task, he can call on Yeosang to come and help him out.
Sometimes Yeosang is doing his own thing, like repairing the small electronic units he and Wooyoung brought with them in their evac kits, but the android was right when he said these tasks wouldn’t get in the way – Mingi only needs to call for him and Yeosang drops what he’s doing, ready to help out at once.
Mingi is quickly growing to enjoy having Yeosang around. Granted, Mingi loves androids in general, but Yeosang is a league above any of the others he’s worked with. He only speaks in response to Mingi’s prompts, but his communication capacity is high, and he’s able to answer questions about the tech, provide in-depth analysis of problems, and even suggest solutions to many of them.
“You’ve got quite the database up there,” Mingi says the third time this happens, gently tapping the side of the android’s head, and Yeosang smiles modestly and says he does a lot of researching in his downtime.
He does good-quality repair work too, which is always a good way to Mingi’s heart. He knows after the first week of careful supervision that he can rely on Yeosang to carry out pretty much any hardware maintenance quickly and reliably.
The android also makes a pleasant companion. He’s quiet, polite and mostly good at keeping out of the way – they’ve only bumped into each other a couple of times so far in the small space – and having him around to hum little responses to Mingi’s rambling makes Mingi feel better about how much he tends to talk to himself while he’s working. It doesn’t hurt that Yeosang’s design is so nice to look at either, and that his voice is deep and pleasant.
All in all, Mingi’s quickly becoming quite fond of the android.
“This is nice,” Mingi says one afternoon, breaking the companionable silence they’ve been working in.
“What’s nice?” asks Yeosang, looking up from his tools, and Mingi chuckles.
“Just working together,” he says, gesturing between them. “It’s nice having a helping hand around.”
Yeosang smiles at once.
“I’m glad I can help,” he says.
Mingi’s heart swells at how cute the android looks, excited to be useful, even if it’s just his programming that makes him like that.
“I like your company too,” he says, a little impulsively. “It makes a nice change. I usually get on better with machines that people, to be honest. It’s just easier.”
It feels a little odd admitting it out loud, even though there’s technically no risk of judgement from an android. In fact, Yeosang perks up visibly at Mingi’s words.
“Oh, me too!” he says. “I’m not good with subtext, and I don’t always get jokes. The way machines talk is much easier to understand.”
Mingi smiles, endeared by this. It makes sense that an android would have trouble reading between the lines and working out all the double meanings of jokes and slang. Himself, Mingi doesn’t have this problem, but he does have quite a low social battery, and often feels a lot of pressure to keep performing when he’s around others. He enjoys hanging out with the crew, but he needs lots of alone time to decompress afterwards, in private where he doesn’t have to worry about how others are perceiving him. There’s no worry of that with Yeosang though, so Mingi finds his quiet presence much more relaxing.
“Looks like we’ve got a bit in common then,” he says, grinning at Yeosang. “All the more reason to enjoy having you around.”
Yeosang is smiling back, and maybe it’s because of Mingi’s words or maybe it’s just that his sensors have picked up a smile directed at him so he’s returning it automatically, but either way, it’s a lovely smile.
Even if it’s not real, it makes Mingi happy.
They’ve been efficient and gotten through all the necessary maintenance in half the time due to Yeosang’s help, so Mingi could technically take the next day off. Instead, a little selfishly, he decides to push ahead with some routine checks and upgrades earlier than planned. Sue him, he’s really enjoying spending time in the engine room with Yeosang at the moment, so he may as well make the most of this burst of productivity.
Besides, he reminds himself sternly as he heads down the corridor towards the living area, Yeosang was literally made for this work. It’s not like Mingi needs to feel bad about calling him to work more often than strictly necessary, when that’s his primary purpose.
As expected, he finds the android in the living area with Wooyoung. The human is lounging back on the couch and playing around with a mapping device and nattering away to Yeosang, who is sitting up straight with his hands rested neatly on his thighs, eyes vacant, nodding from time to time when Wooyoung pauses.
Mingi imagines Wooyoung, like Mingi, might find it easier to go sort out his thoughts if he can talk it through aloud, and uses Yeosang as an excuse for this purpose. The android is Wooyoung’s, after all. It makes sense that he might enjoy Yeosang’s not-quite-company the same way Mingi does.
“Hey, Wooyoung!” he calls, knocking briefly on the doorframe to announce his presence. “Can I borrow Yeosang for a bit?”
They both turn, Yeosang smiling automatically at the sound of his name, and Wooyoung with a mildly puzzled expression.
“Uh… yeah, sure, I guess?” says Wooyoung, looking between Yeosang and Mingi in apparent bemusement.
Maybe he hadn’t expected them to be working today?
Either way, Mingi beams at the permission.
“Thanks! I’ll have him back to you by this afternoon!”
Mingi beckons to Yeosang and heads back to the engine room, not bothering to check if the android is following. He doesn’t need to look to know that Yeosang will be following dutifully at his heels, already switched into work mode.
When they get to the engine room, Mingi shows Yeosang the section of console he’s been meaning to replace for a while, and Yeosang gets to work right away. Mingi goes back to his own repairs, and for a while the two tinker away in their usual comfortable silence.
After about an hour, however, Yeosang raises his voice.
“Have you worked on this ship for long, Mingi?”
Mingi blinks at the unprompted personal question.
He’s heard some of the latest model AIs will actually initiate conversation during perceived quiet periods, to help themselves improve their chat capabilities at a faster rate. That must be what this attempt at small talk is for. The android wouldn’t have any other reason to seek out such information. Maybe he’s taken Mingi’s admission of enjoying Yeosang’s company yesterday as permission to try talking more.
That’s fine – Mingi’s perfectly happy to help Yeosang train his speech patterns.
“Yeah, I’ve been on the Destiny for four years,” he says.
“Wow, that’s a long time,” says Yeosang. “I don’t think Wooyoung and I have stuck with any one ship for longer than a few months. It must be pretty good then?”
“Oh yeah,” says Mingi. “The crew here is great. Hongjoong is a great captain, and the crew works really well together.”
Yeosang nods seriously.
“I got that sense, just from the last week or so,” he says. “You’re like a family here. It’s nice.”
That’s a surprisingly astute observation for an android. Mingi blinks, surprised, and takes a little longer to respond.
“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, I guess we are. I didn’t think it’d be that obvious to outsiders, but I suppose I do think of the crew as my family.”
Yeosang smiles.
“That’s nice,” he says again. “I’d like to work in a crew like this someday.”
For some reason, that makes Mingi oddly emotional.
Logically, he knows that Yeosang is probably only saying that because he’s mirroring what a human might say in this situation, or else he means it in some generic way like ‘a harmonious crew means more efficient work’ or something. But still, the idea of an android hoping to be included in a crew that treats him like family is strangely poignant. Especially given that, however fond Wooyoung is of him, such a thing just isn’t really possible while Yeosang doesn’t have the emotions required to form a bond like that.
The conversation trails off after that, until they finish up for the day and Mingi dismisses the android.
He bumps into Yeosang later in the galley, heating up some synthetic food packets. A lot of synthetic food packets, actually. Easily enough for two people.
“Wow, Wooyoung must be feeling hungry today,” says Mingi, eying Yeosang’s loaded tray.
“Yes, he asked me to grab some food for him while I was up,” says Yeosang, glancing down at said portions. “I’m glad he feels like eating more again, he lost his appetite for a few days after the accident.”
Mingi fights down a smile, wondering if Yeosang realises he’s going overboard for one person – even a hungry one. Perhaps something is amiss in his calculations, and he’s trying to feed Wooyoung enough to make up for previous missed meals, all in one go.
He considers trying to explain in terms the android might understand – for example, even if a battery has been left flat for a day or to, you can still only charge it up to 100% – but he decides against it. It’s not like they have any shortage of food supplies, after all – Seonghwa always makes sure of that every time they pass through a port. They’d have enough for everyone even if Yeosang was human and required food as well.
So, with a wave and a smile, Mingi leaves Yeosang to it. Wooyoung can always reheat the leftovers tomorrow if need be.
Wooyoung drops his spoon back onto the tray on his bedside table, having enjoyed most of the meal but deciding to abandon slightly dubiously-flavoured dessert cup, and slumps back against his pillows.
“I think Mingi thinks we’re dating,” he says.
Yeosang, busily finishing off his own dessert with none of Wooyoung’s qualms about the weird taste and texture, looks up sharply, fumbling with his spoon in surprise.
“What?”
“Well, he keeps asking me if he can borrow you!” says Wooyoung. “It’s like he thinks I’ve got some sort of right to your time and he’s apologetic for taking you away.”
“Huh.”
Sitting back in the swivelling chair beside the bed, Yeosang lets his head hang back to look at the ceiling thoughtfully.
“I suppose that makes sense,” he says after a moment. “I mean, we arrived together, and we’re obviously close, after being friends for so long. We could be mistaken for a couple by the crew, if they didn’t know. Are you going to eat that?”
He jabs his spoon in the direction of Wooyoung’s half-finished dessert cup, and Wooyoung chuckles.
“Nah, go for it.”
Yeosang digs into the second cup at once.
“Well, you should probably clear any possible dating confusion, for Mingi at least,” says Wooyoung pointedly. “Since you’ve got a crush on him.”
“I don’t have a…” Yeosang begins to protest half-heartedly, then he catches sight of the look on Wooyoung’s face and sighs. “Yeah, ok, fine.”
“It’s for your own good,” says Wooyoung. “You’re not going to get anywhere if he thinks you’re taken.”
“Won’t it be a weird thing to say though?” Yeosang worries, looking back up at the ceiling.
“It doesn’t have to be,” says Wooyoung with a shrug. “Just find some way to work it into the conversation naturally, and it’ll be fine.”
“Hmm,” says Yeosang thoughtfully. “Ok.”
“By the way,” says Yeosang, the next time he and Mingi are together in the engine room, “I’m not dating Wooyoung.”
Mingi pauses, blinking in confusion.
They’ve been working on the fuel gauge together, since it’s been glitching recently, and haven’t been talking about anything non-work-related up until now, so the statement comes completely out of the blue.
Dating Wooyoung? Of course Yeosang isn’t dating Wooyoung. You can’t date an android. Where did that come from? Why is Yeosang telling him this?
“Just in case you had the wrong idea,” Yeosang continues, still focussed on the adjustments he’s making to the gauge panel. “Because we’re very close, obviously, but it’s not like that.”
Where on earth did Yeosang get the idea that Mingi thought they were together? Mingi blinks, mystified.
“…I’m… glad to hear that?” he ventures, unsure what sort of response the android is looking for.
Yeosang glances up and smiles brightly.
“Ok, good!” he says. “Just making sure!”
That damn smile again. It doesn’t matter how strangely Yeosang may be acting, that smile is so disarming and has Mingi smiling back before he’s even realised it. He thinks he could stare at Yeosang’s smile all day if he could.
“Do you have a partner at the moment?”
Mingi drops his spanner.
“Oh dear, are you alright?” asks Yeosang, with concern, half-rising from where he’d been crouched by the gauges.
“Yep, yep, fine,” wheezes Mingi, getting back to his feet, offending spanner in hand. “Just – wasn’t expecting that question, to be honest.”
“Was that inappropriate to ask?” wonders Yeosang. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” Mingi waves a hand, flustered. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I don’t have a partner. Haven’t in a few years.”
“Oh,” says Yeosang. “Ok.”
He seems almost pleased with the answer, which makes Mingi think he’s projecting his own thoughts too hard again, because why would an android look pleased about something like that? He’s obviously just imagining things. It’s just the resting sweet expression on Yeosang’s face, tricking his eyes, making him see what he wants to see.
And really, why would he even want Yeosang to be happy about the fact that Mingi is painfully single? Does he want the android to think he has a chance?
Get it together, Mingi chides himself internally. He’s a computer.
Thankfully, Yeosang doesn’t pick up on Mingi’s distraction, and is already back to work, humming softly. That’s another android behaviour Mingi hasn’t come across before – playing music without being prompted, and in his own voice too, rather than just playing back a recording. It would be weird, but as previously established, Yeosang has a lovely voice, so Mingi doesn’t say anything.
In fact, he decides, as he gets back to his own work alongside the android, he really quite likes it. Yeosang keeps humming to himself for the rest of the session, and Mingi even hums along when he recognises the song, and sees Yeosang smiling to himself when he does.
Overall, despite the earlier confusion, it’s a nice afternoon.
“He’s single,” Yeosang reports to Wooyoung that night. “And he knows I am too now.”
“Hey, nice!” says Wooyoung enthusiastically. “So are you going to ask him out?”
Yeosang’s eyes widen.
“What, right away?” he says. “Aren’t we supposed to, I dunno, grow closer naturally first, or something? I don’t even know if he likes me that way!”
“Well you won’t know if you don’t ask!” says Wooyoung. “And you can grow closer naturally after confessing too, there’s no set order to do things, you know. Besides, you guys have been working together for a few weeks now, how much closer do you need to get?”
Yeosang pouts.
“I just don’t want to ask him while I’m not sure,” he says. “What if I’m misreading things?”
“Part of getting into a relationship is just taking that risk,” says Wooyoung. “You know that.”
Yeosang deflates slightly.
“Yeah,” he concedes. “I know.”
Wooyoung pats him on the shoulder.
“I’m not saying you need to charge out and ask him to be your boyfriend right this moment. Just give it some thought, alright?”
Yeosang nods.
“Yeah,” he says again. “Alright. I will.”
“And hey, cheer up!” says Wooyoung. “It’s fun having a crush, right? Don’t stress about it too much. Just enjoy hanging out with him, and keep being yourself. You guys obviously like each other’s company, so just focus on that.”
Yeosang smiles this time, reassured.
“I will,” he promises. “Thanks, Woo.”
“No problem,” says Wooyoung. “Now go to sleep. He’s probably going to be asking for you first thing in the morning again, so you’ll need your beauty sleep.”
The next week passes without incident, and Yeosang and Mingi continue their overhaul and upgrade of the engine room, as well as fixing any small malfunctions or breakages they sustain on their trip.
Mingi is unsure if it’s just in his head, but he could swear that Yeosang has been becoming more expressive recently. He seems to be smiling and laughing more, greeting Mingi more cheerfully in the mornings and humming more as he works.
Mingi wonders if his enjoyment of Yeosang’s happy behaviour is being recognised and is causing a positive feedback loop, or if he’s just reading too far into this, but the change is definitely noticeable.
What’s more, Yeosang has also started making jokes, which had definitely taken Mingi by surprise. He’s never come across an android with the ability to output a joke based on its surroundings, rather than just recognising where to trot out some humorous pre-programmed phrase. But sometimes, when Mingi asks for his input, Yeosang will give a joke answer instead, still with the innocent, dead-pan delivery as usual, and it’s genuinely funny.
“What do you reckon that is?” Mingi had asked the other day when he’d unearthed an old toolbox full of tangled wires he doesn’t remember storing under the workbench, wondering what their original purpose might have been.
Yeosang had peered over to look, then observed dryly that it “Looks a bit like the meal San tried to make from scratch the other day,” sending Mingi into giggles as he remembered said culinary disaster.
He’s surprised that it’s allowed as a feature, especially given how Yeosang uses it to be actively unhelpful on occasion.
Like now, for example.
“Hm, this is more complex that I thought it would be,” says Yeosang, staring down at the section of engine he’s working on. “Will you pass me the wrench, please?”
Mingi looks up from his work, curious to see the problem Yeosang’s run into.
“What is it?” he asks, getting to his feet.
“What is the wrench?” says Yeosang, blinking up him with wide eyes. “It’s the tool with the adjustable C-shaped head, sitting to your left.”
Mingi snorts.
“Ok, ok, very funny. You know what I meant.”
He hadn’t realised Yeosang was deliberately misinterpreting him the first few times, given how deadpan the android always is, and had carefully clarified himself before realising that Yeosang was being deliberately obtuse.
“Oh, you meant ‘what’s the problem?’” says Yeosang now, as if in realisation, still smiling innocently. “It’s the bolts at the back, I think they might be starting to wear out, so I should change them.”
Mingi moves to look over Yeosang’s shoulder at the compartment, nudging him off balance with his knee as he does so. Yeosang catches himself before he overbalances, giving Mingi a playfully indignant look – yet another expression Mingi didn’t think androids were capable of. Yeosang is constantly impressive him with his range of facial mechanics these days.
“Alright,” he says, leaning down, “What’ve we got?”
Yeosang points out the bolts and, unsurprisingly, his assessment is correct – they are in need of a change.
“Fun job,” says Mingi. “I’ll leave that up to you then.”
“That’s so kind,” says Yeosang earnestly. “Thank you.”
Mingi chuckles at the android’s sarcasm.
“Ok, less talking back, more work,” he says lightly, straightening up again.
He turns to get back to his own task and, on a whim, he reaches out to ruffle Yeosang’s hair in passing. Then he pauses in surprise.
“Wow, your hair is so soft!”
Whatever synthetic material they’ve used is far superior to anything he’s come across before. Mingi was expecting to feel the usual low-grade, wig-like material, but the imitation hair on Yeosang’s head feels so realistic it’s hard to believe it’s fake.
Fascinated, Mingi pats Yeosang’s hair a few more times, smoothing it down appreciatively.
“So silky!” he says. “Everything about you really is perfect, isn’t it?”
He’s definitely going to have to ask Wooyoung who Yeosang’s manufacturer is, if he knows. With details like this, Yeosang could definitely be a custom bespoke model. But if that’s the case, what is he doing on a low-paying navigation job on a freighter?
Yeosang, meanwhile, seems frozen. He’s gone very still under Mingi’s touch, and he hasn’t responded yet, which is unusual for him. Is he lagging?
“You in there?” Mingi asks after a moment, and Yeosang jolts back to life.
“Yes,” he says quickly. “Um. Thank you. Your hair is nice too, I like the colour you dye it.”
Mingi chuckles.
“Thank you, Yeosang,” he says indulgently, knowing that the android has no opinion at all on the colour of his hair but is doing his best to respond in the correct way. “Well, let’s get back to it. Those bolts aren’t going to replace themselves.”
When they finish up for the day and Yeosang heads back to his cabin, Mingi takes his time packing his tools away. Seeing the android go always leaves Mingi with a strange feeling of emptiness these days, and it’s starting to bother him. He shouldn’t be feeling so attached.
Mingi’s felt friendly with androids in the past – most people have, given how realistic they can be in this day and age – and enjoying having one around isn’t new to him. This, though – the way he can feel himself grow lighter with happiness when Yeosang is around, the way he dreads the end of the work day because it means Yeosang will leave again – this isn’t normal. This is fast growing into dangerously genuine affection.
It’s not just that Yeosang is so beautifully made and looks so pretty all the time, but also his quiet companionship and gentle demeanour, his ready smile and his dry wit. If he was a real person, Mingi would date him in a heartbeat.
And isn’t that already a red flag of a thought, right there?
Leave him to get into some sort of parasocial relationship with a robot. That’s so stupid and on-brand for Mingi.
He sighs as he finishes packing up and closes the engine room door. He’s really going to have to watch himself.
“I think we’re getting somewhere,” says Yeosang, smiling at the ceiling of their shared cabin. “He was definitely flirting with me today.”
Wooyoung looks up from his tablet, eyebrows raised.
“Wow, he really must be laying it on thick if you noticed on your own,” he says, then adds “No offence.”
Yeosang waves a hand airily.
“None taken,” he says. “We both know you usually need to point these things out before I notice them.”
“Well, then?” prods Wooyoung, scooting closer, “What did he do that made it so obvious?”
Yeosang giggles, suddenly bashful.
“He touched my hair and told me it was soft,” he says. “And then he said I was perfect.”
Wooyoung’s face splits into a gleeful grin.
“Oh, he’s down bad,” he cackles. “What are you waiting for? Ask him out already!”
“I think I’m going to wait until we’re at a port,” Yeosang muses. “Just in case it doesn’t go to plan. I don’t want to make things awkward, while we’re stuck in such close quarters. When we next land, I’ll ask him out for a drink or something.”
“When we next land?” Wooyoung gapes at him, “Yeosang, that’s ages away!”
“It’s only three weeks!” Yeosang defends. “I don’t want to rush this!”
Wooyoung sighs, then shakes his head fondly.
“Look, if it’d really make you feel more comfortable to wait, I’m not going to order you to rush in,” he says. “After all, it’s not like either of you can go anywhere in the meantime. Just keep in mind that, if he’s flirting with you this openly, you can’t give him nothing back or he’ll feel unwanted. Three weeks is a long time to leave the guy hanging.” A thought occurs to him and he sits up a little straighter, pointing at Yeosang. “You did compliment him back at least, I hope?”
“Oh yeah,” Yeosang nods at once. “I complimented his hair, told him I liked the colour.”
“Ok, good,” says Wooyoung, relaxing. “Well, I’ll leave you to your own plans then, I guess. Keep me updated.”
He gets up to change into his sleepwear, and Yeosang hums happily.
“I will.”
A few days later, Mingi wakes up in the morning feeling warm and happy. He opens his eyes and lies smiling up at the roof of his bunk, wondering vaguely what’s put him in such a good mood.
Then, with a sudden jolt, he realises he’d been dreaming about Yeosang. About kissing Yeosang, to be more precise.
The warm feeling abruptly evaporates, and Mingi groans and throws an arm over his face.
The dream wasn’t even that inappropriate, in the scheme of things – just the idea of having Yeosang in his arms, in his lap, the phantom sense of running his hands thought that silky hair, of holding each other, of kissing. Mingi’s had far weirder dreams when he’s been crushing in the past. But that’s not the problem here.
The problem is that the subject of the fantasy is a walking computer.
Mingi can’t really deny it any longer – this has definitely entered crush territory while he wasn’t paying attention. He may have been oblivious, but his subconscious isn’t. And his subconscious has decided he wants to date an android.
The obvious, glaring problem with this situation is that androids can’t date. They can’t get crushes, they can’t fall in love, they can’t do any of the things associated with a relationship.
Well, technically Yeosang could sit in Mingi’s lap and let himself be held and kissed, but it would be a horribly empty experience for Mingi, knowing that his partner felt nothing and was merely passively allowing it.
Expecting an android to enjoy kissing would be like expecting your TV to enjoy the movie it’s playing for you. And while Yeosang is nice to hang around with, having a sweet smile and witty lines doesn’t mean he also has a heart.
Perhaps, Mingi concludes reluctantly, it’s time he stopped hanging out with Yeosang all day, every day. Some distance might help him get his head on straight. And Yeosang doesn’t actually need company, so it’s not like he’ll be affected by Mingi taking a step back.
Mingi rolls over and eyes the clock set in the digital panel beside his bed.
Shit, he’s running late now.
Yeosang will already be waiting for him at the engine room. And although the android lacks the capacity to be annoyed or bored from being kept waiting, Mingi still doesn’t like the idea of leaving him idling in the corridor for too long.
He heaves himself out of bed and dresses quickly, deciding he’ll deal with these feelings and the idea of distancing himself later.
He just needs to get through today first.
Today, however, turns out to be rather more chaotic than expected.
To begin with, Yeosang is late. He arrives at the engine room around the same time as Mingi, apologising for the delay distractedly.
“I’ve had a bit of a headache since last night,” he mutters, pressing a hand to the side of his head. “I thought it’d be gone by now, but it’s being persistent.”
“A headache?” asks Mingi, concerned. “Do you get those often?”
Yeosang shakes his head, and Mingi hums thoughtfully.
Androids don’t feel pain like humans do, but they can experience discomfort if they’re aware of a fault in their system. Tension in the head unit could be sign of a hardware malfunction, or potentially some software in need of upgrading.
“Do you want me to take a look?” Mingi asks. “We should probably figure out what the problem is, before it gets any worse.”
Yeosang blinks, seemingly surprised by the offer.
“Oh, it’s only mild,” he says. “I wouldn’t worry. And there’s probably not much you could do anyway.”
Mingi huffs at the dismissal.
“Hey, don’t write me off that easily,” he says reproachfully. “And anyway, I don’t want you working if something might be wrong. Come on, let me have a look.”
Yeosang hesitates, but nods his assent.
“Ok, good,” says Mingi, moving back to clear a spot on his central workbench, “Take your shirt off, then come sit up here, with your back to me.”
“My shirt?” repeats Yeosang.
Mingi frowns in concern – his instructions were clear, it’s not a good sign that Yeosang is requiring clarification. What’s more, his voice seems to have pitched up, and sounds somewhat unstable. Is his vocal production malfunctioning?
“Yes, take your shirt off, then come sit up here,” he repeats, enunciating clearly so it’s easier for Yeosang to process. “Quickly, please.”
He fetches his good toolkit from the draw, not wanting to use his everyday heavier tools on the android's probably-delicate systems, then turns around and narrowly avoids doing a double-take at the sight of Yeosang shirtless.
In his rush to see Yeosang’s inner workings more clearly, he’d somehow forgotten that getting Yeosang to take his shirt off means that Mingi will see him, well, without a shirt. Forgotten until he’s confronted directly with it, that is, and his stupid, stupid crush comes rushing back.
He was aware that Yeosang was shaped nicely with defined musculature, that much was obvious even with his clothes on, but Mingi hadn’t expected his body to look this realistic. Heck, they even gave him nipples? Mingi’s never seen an android with nipples before. They mostly don’t bother, just leave it as a smooth expanse of chest, like a mannequin.
Mingi could quite easily stand and gawk for the next several minutes, but luckily his attention is drawn away by the fact that Yeosang has gone quite red in the face. That isn’t good – that’s usually a sign of internal strain building up inside the AI interface stored in the head cavity. Mingi’s going to have to work quickly.
“Here, sit down,” he says, stepping back to allow Yeosang space to climb onto the bench. “Alright, let’s see what the matter is.”
In fact, as he lays his hands on Yeosang’s shoulders, he realises that the whole body seems to be worryingly warm. The silicone or latex or whatever they’ve made his skin out of is startlingly soft to the touch – another mark of his surprisingly good craftsmanship – but his body temperature practically matches that of a human’s too, and that definitely should not be the case.
“You feel like you’re overheating,” says Mingi worriedly. “Is your temperature usually this high?”
“O-oh?” says Yeosang, still in that uneven voice, “I hadn’t noticed. I don’t feel much warmer than usual.”
Mingi hums, frowning. Either Yeosang has been running at a worryingly high engine strain for a while now, or his internal temperature gauges are broken and aren’t reporting the sudden rise. Neither is good news.
He runs his fingers over the space between Yeosang’s shoulder blades, searching for the discreet grooves or hinges that will show where his access panel is concealed. Strangely, he can’t seem to find it in the usual spots – the base of the neck, lower down the spine, or beside either shoulder blade. He presses those areas experimentally anyway, and Yeosang makes a strange little noise, somewhere between a surprised squeak and a groan.
“Is this some sort of pressure points thing?” he asks, sounding slightly breathless. “Like, relieving tension through other muscles? I’ve read about that, but I’ve never tried it.”
“Pressure points?” mutters Mingi, only half listening.
Is that why he can’t find the access panel? Is it one of those new-fangled security panels that only open if you know where they are and push directly on them?
He prods Yeosang a few more times, but his efforts only produce more little bitten-off squeaks from the android, which do absolutely nothing for Mingi’s nerves or concentration.
“Ok, I give in,” says Mingi finally. “Where’s your access panel?”
There’s a brief pause, then Yeosang looks over his shoulder again, tilting his head quizzically.
“My what?”
“Your access panel!” says Mingi. “What did you think I was doing back here? I can’t help you find out what’s wrong if I can’t even see your wiring!”
Yeosang’s face screws up in confusion.
“Wiring?” he says. “What? Why would I have wiring?” He chuckles uncertainly, eyes darting around Mingi’s face like he’s half-waiting to be told it’s a joke. “I’m not a machine.”
Mingi’s brain stalls.
“…You’re not?” he says slowly.
Yeosang’s mouth opens and he stares wordlessly at Mingi, like he’s stalling too. His gaze goes unfocussed and drifts to the wall behind Mingi’s head, like he’s trying to make sense of what’s going on. A minutes passes.
“Mingi,” he says eventually, “…Did you think I was an android?”
Mingi stares at Yeosang, cogs turning painfully slowly in his mind.
“…Are you…” he begins, and stops because it’s ridiculous, surely not, but what else could Yeosang mean? He wets his lips and tries again, “Are you a human?”
Yeosang blinks at him, apparently speechless.
“…Yeah,” he says after a long moment.
Silence falls again. Mostly because the ability to speak has deserted Mingi, while his mind deals with the absolute sucker punch it’s just been dealt.
Yeosang is human.
There’s no access panel in his back because he doesn’t have one. His head hurts because he has a headache. He’s red in the face because Mingi is flustering him by asking him to undress and then putting his hands all over his naked back.
Mingi feels lightheaded.
Failing any logical response, he turns and abruptly walks out.
Mingi’s only vaguely aware of the engine room door sliding shut behind him and of making his way down the corridor, moving in a daze as his thoughts roil and churn chaotically. Somehow, he makes it to the living area, where he regains some semblance of awareness.
He sees Seonghwa first and strides towards him.
“I fucked up,” he says urgently.
Seonghwa turns, eyebrows raised in immediate concern.
“Mingi? What’s wrong?”
“I fucked up,” Mingi repeats. “Yeosang. He’s a person.”
Seonghwa blinks.
“…Yes?”
So Seonghwa already knew. That’s a shame. Part of Mingi had hoped he wasn’t the only one to make that mistake.
“I thought he was an android,” Mingi admits miserably, and watches Seonghwa’s eyes widen.
“You thought what?!”
“I know,” Mingi whines miserably. “I don’t know how it happened.”
“How what happened?”
Mingi looks around to see Yunho peering at them curiously from the sofa nearby. Even Jongho and San are looking up from their seat by the far windows, doing a poor job of pretending they aren’t eavesdropping as they shuffle closer. Words stuck in his throat, Mingi looks to Seonghwa helplessly instead.
“Ah,” says Seonghwa carefully, “It looks like there’s just been a bit of an incident with Mingi and Yeosang…”
“Yeosang?” Wooyoung sticks his head out from the galley kitchen at the mention of the name, eyebrows raised, then points his spoon accusingly at Mingi. “What happened? What did you do?”
Mingi is struck with the sudden realisation that, on top of all his other mistakes, he’s been thinking of Wooyoung as Yeosang’s owner. In reality, they must be close friends, which means the way Mingi’s been acting around them has probably been weird.
He’s reminded abruptly of Yeosang trying to explain that he and Wooyoung aren’t dating, and groans internally.
However, before he has a chance to even consider how to answer Wooyoung, another voice comes from the passage.
“Mingi!”
Shit, that’s Yeosang’s voice. Part of Mingi’s brain urges him to run again, but fortunately he doesn’t have time to act on it before Yeosang is rounding the corner (now thankfully with his shirt on again).
“Mingi, wait, can we talk about this?”
Then Yeosang sees the group gathered in the living area and pulls up short, looking around with wide eyes.
“…Oh,” he says in a small voice, “I didn’t realise so many people were here.”
“What happened?” demands Wooyoung again, looking between them in agitation. “Yeosang, are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” says Yeosang at once, although he looks anything but, already shrinking away from everyone’s stares on him. “It’s… I just… I just found out that Mingi, um. Didn’t think I was real.”
There’s a brief buzz of confusion at his words.
“What, like a hallucination?” asks Jongho disbelievingly, clearly giving up any last pretence of minding his own business.
Mingi looks at the ground, studiously avoiding eye contact with everyone and everything.
“…Like an android,” he clarifies, and braces himself.
“WHAT?!”
Wooyoung’s screech is so loud that Mingi fears for the reinforced steel-glass windows, but he figures he probably deserves it.
“I’m sorry,” he cringes, forcing himself to look over in Yeosang’s direction. “I’m really sorry.”
For better or worse, Yeosang doesn’t notice that Mingi can’t look directly at him, because he’s also busy staring very hard at the floor, shrinking down until his shoulders almost touch his ears.
“You thought Yeosangie was an android?!” Wooyoung cries. “All this time?! You’ve been working together for weeks!”
“I know,” Mingi groans, “I’m sorry!”
“How did you even make that mistake to start with?”
“Well, he – he does sums and stuff!” says Mingi defensively, “Like, just in his head!”
“Yeah, he’s good at maths,” says Wooyoung, folding his arms. “So what? That’s all it takes to make you assume someone’s a computer?”
Mingi opens his mouth to add that Yeosang follows commands, considers how that sounds and how mad Wooyoung already looks, and scrambles for something else to say instead.
“Just – look at him!” he says a little desperately, waving a hand in Yeosang’s general direction. “He – I don’t know, he doesn’t look like a real person!”
Actually, now he says it out loud, that probably doesn’t sound great either.
Wooyoung certainly doesn’t seem to think so, as he scoffs loudly.
“Really?” he asks, “That’s what you’re going with?”
Before Mingi can answer (and probably dig himself deeper), the only crew member not here already decides to join.
“Yunho, did you find the navigation files we need for the next leg of the…”
Hongjoong looks up from his tablet and trails off, taking in the clearly tense situation he’s walked into.
“Alright, what’s going on here?” he demands, looking between them all.
“There was a mixup,” Seonghwa answers for them again. “Mingi thought Yeosang was an android.”
Hongjoong stares at Seonghwa for a long moment, brows furrowed.
“…What is he then? Is there another name for them once they reach a certain level of advanced tech?”
Seonghwa stares back, and silence falls over the group.
“…Human,” says Seonghwa. “He’s a human.”
“Oh.” Hongjoong blinks slowly. “Oh. Wait – what?!”
He swings around to stare at Yeosang, mouth agape.
“No way. What?!”
“Suns above! Anyone else?” cries Wooyoung, flinging up his hands. “Did this whole crew think my friend was a non-sentient machine?”
“I didn’t!” offers Yunho, raising a hand.
“Me neither,” says Jongho, casting the captain a judgemental side-eye.
“I did for the first few days,” San confesses, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “But then I saw him eating and realised my mistake. I didn’t tell anyone else because I thought I was the only one, and I didn’t want to look stupid.”
He glances up guiltily at Yeosang.
“Sorry,” he adds.
Wooyoung blows out a long, irritable huff of air.
“Unbelievable!” he cries. “How did three of you all think that? You can’t be that dense!”
“We’re sorry, ok?” says Hongjoong defensively, raising his hands. “It was an honest mistake! I mean, how many people just naturally have a face that perfect?”
A back section of Mingi’s mind notes that this is a significantly better way of phrasing it than Mingi himself managed. Too bad that, at this point, Wooyoung is too wound up for it to matter.
“Look, guys, it’s just a misunderstanding!” says Yeosang, spooked by the fight that seems to be brewing. “I’m not mad! It’s probably my fault anyway!”
There’s a brief pause as everyone turns to stare at him.
“Yeosang,” says Wooyoung with a sigh, “How, exactly, would you say this is your fault?”
Yeosang falters, looking between Wooyoung and Mingi uncertainly.
“Um… I should’ve… um… told them I wasn’t an android when we first met?”
Wooyoung raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and Yeosang slumps slightly.
“Ok, it’s not my fault,” he concedes. “But it isn’t anyone else’s either!”
Then he pauses as another thought seems to occur to him, and he perks up a little.
“Oh, but does this mean I can get paid for my work?”
Seonghwa’s eyes bug out, and he spins around to turn on Hongjoong again.
“We haven’t been paying him?!”
“I thought he was an android!” Hongjoong repeats, holding up his hands defensively. “You don’t pay androids!”
“You’ve been working for free this whole time?” Wooyoung cries, turning on Yeosang. “Sangie!”
“Well, no one brought it up, so I just thought that, you know, because they rescued us…” Yeosang trails off, voice fading out to a whisper under the appalled stares of the rest of the crew.
“Stars and suns,” says Seonghwa, dragging a hand down his face. “Ok, you and I are sitting down tonight to work out how many hours we owe you for.”
It’s around this point in the conversation that Mingi, thoroughly overwhelmed, notices that he and his own mistakes are now out of the spotlight for the moment. No one is shouting at him right now, or even looking in his direction, too caught up in this latest outrage.
Mingi decides at once to do the honourable thing, and run away again.
He edges away from the increasingly heated discussion, holding his breath until he’s far enough away to dart around the corner without anyone noticing and leg it back to the engine room. He locks the door behind himself and slumps to the ground, exhausted.
How had the day managed to go so catastrophically off the rails?
An hour or so later, things seem to have calmed down. The crew has dispersed back to their various posts, and no one is shouting anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Mingi ventures out and tiptoes around the ship until he finds Yeosang, tucked in the corner of the cramped observation platform at the top of the ship.
He’s clearly also been hiding away from the others, and Mingi feels a little bad about disturbing him, but he clears his throat anyway.
Yeosang glances around.
“Oh, it’s you.”
He smiles tiredly, which Mingi takes as a sign that his presence isn’t entirely unwelcome.
“Can I…?” he trails off, pointing to the space on the bench beside Yeosang.
“Oh, sure,” says Yeosang at once, shuffling up a little.
Mingi nods in thanks and takes the offered spot. They sit in silence for a few minutes, both slumped back tiredly against the wall and staring blankly at the slowly-changing view of the distant stars, until finally, Mingi breaks the silence.
“What the hell is your skincare routine?”
Yeosang doesn’t turn, but his eyebrows rise quizzically.
“My what?”
“Skincare routine,” Mingi repeats. “Your skin is so even I literally thought it was spray-painted silicone.”
“That’s the weirdest compliment I think I’ve ever received,” muses Yeosang, still gazing out the window. “I use a bunch of products I bought out on Utopia, they’ve got blue clay from the moons out there, it’s super absorbent and nice. I’ll lend you some to try if you want.”
“Oh, cool,” says Mingi. “Thanks, that’d be awesome.”
Yeosang nods, and they lapse back into silence.
Mingi shifts uncomfortably on the bench.
“So, um…” he sighs. “I’m sorry. About the whole… um. Yeah. Sorry I assumed you were an android.”
“You already apologised,” Yeosang reminds him. “It’s alright.”
“No, but, that was chaotic out there,” says Mingi. “Everyone was yelling and stuff. I wanted to say it again now things have calmed down, to… I dunno. So you know I mean it. I’m not just saying it to get Wooyoung off my back, or…” He drops his head and sighs frustratedly. “I’m not good at this,” he says. “But I am sorry. Really.”
“Thank you,” says Yeosang, with a small smile. “And it really is ok. Honest.”
Mingi hesitates.
“It just… doesn’t seem ok,” he says. “I feel bad about it. And you looked pretty shaken up earlier. Are you sure you’re alright?”
Yeosang twists his lips, eyes drifting away again.
“Hm,” he says. “Well, I suppose I’m a bit upset, but I feel like that’s my own problem. It’s more on me than you.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” says Mingi. “How could you feeling bad about this be on you?”
Yeosang grimaces.
“Um, well…” he trails off, then sighs. “It’s embarrassing,” he says.
“Embarrassing for you?” Mingi asks. “Again, how?”
He stares at Yeosang, who screws up his face (cute, Mingi’s brain supplies), then seems to give in.
“Oh well, you got embarrassed in front of everyone earlier, so I guess it’s only fair.”
He sighs, and takes a moment before speaking again.
“I’ve kind of had a massive crush on you,” he says quietly. “And I was thinking – convincing myself, I guess – that you kept asking me to come work with you so often because you liked me too. But, um, clearly that’s not the case, if you thought I was a walking computer, so. Yeah.”
It’s not the first time Mingi has felt as though he’s been metaphorically slapped across the face with a shocking revelation today, but it is the first time it’s been in a good way. If getting slapped across the face can ever be a good thing.
“I… you… what?” he says, reeling. “You like me too?”
Somehow, in amongst all the chaos, Mingi hadn’t even considered this. He’s been so caught up in the embarrassment of mistaking Yeosang for an android and probably offending him that he hasn’t even been thinking about the bigger picture. Hasn’t considered that this means his feelings for Yeosang are actually perfectly normal attraction to a sweet, good-looking co-worker, and might even be mutual.
“Too?!” Yeosang echoes, eyes widening. “Wait, so you do like me?”
Then he pauses, staring unseeingly out the window, brows furrowed.
“No, but, hang on, you thought I was an android,” he says slowly, “That doesn’t make any sense. You wouldn’t have feelings for me if you’ve thought I was an android this whole time.”
Mingi cringes.
“Um, funny story?” he says, grinning weakly.
Yeosang stares at him disbelievingly and he sighs in resignation.
“I was actually getting worried about how much I liked you, since I thought you weren’t a real person,” he admits. “I was beating myself up about getting so attached to an android who couldn’t possibly like me back.”
Yeosang sits back against the wall slowly, staring out at the stars again, apparently processing this.
“…Wow,” he says after a moment. “That is so stupid.”
Ouch. Mingi winces, but he supposes he deserves that.
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding sheepishly.
“Like, incredibly stupid,” Yeosang continues.
“Yep.”
“I can’t believe we could’ve got together so much sooner if either of us had just figured out what was going on!”
“Oh!”
Mingi abruptly realises that Yeosang means the entire situation of their shared misunderstanding and isn’t just insulting him, and relaxes a little.
“Right, yeah. Silly.”
He laughs, and Yeosang joins in, before they fade back to comfortable silence.
After a moment, Mingi turns to Yeosang.
“Well,” he says, “What now?”
Yeosang perks up visibly.
“Oh, do you maybe want to get a drink with me when we stop at the next port?” he asks. “I know a nice bar in Crescent we could go to.”
The offer sounds oddly rehearsed. Mingi blinks, pleased but confused.
“I mean sure, but the next port?” he says. “That’s in three weeks.”
Yeosang deflates a little.
“That’s what Wooyoung said,” he says. “He said I was waiting too long. I don’t know what else to do for a first date though, especially when we’re on a spaceship!”
“Aw man, Wooyoung knew you were crushing on me too?” says Mingi. “No wonder he was so mad.”
Yeosang grimaces slightly and opens his mouth, but Mingi gets in first.
“Don’t apologise.”
Yeosang shuts his mouth again, blinking in surprise, then he giggles.
“Alright,” he says. “But seriously, what now? I don’t really… do this often.”
He looks away shyly, and Mingi feels his heart swell with affection. He shifts a little closer and nudges Yeosang with his shoulder.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea for a first date,” he says. “How about we sit in the observation deck and watch the stars together?”
Yeosang blinks up around at him.
“What, just like this?” he asks.
“Exactly like this,” says Mingi, smiling. “Right now, in fact.”
Yeosang’s face lights up in realisation, and he smiles back at once.
“That works,” he says. “Actually, that sounds perfect.”
He glances down again, chewing briefly on his lip, and Mingi is about to ask if something’s bothering him when Yeosang determinedly reaches out and takes Mingi’s hand gently in his.
Mingi’s heart swells, and he squeezes Yeosang’s hand. Then, on a whim, he leans over and pecks him on the cheek. Yeosang yelps, clearly not expecting it, then immediately turns bright pink and starts giggling again, flustered. Mingi feels his own smile widen in response, and settles comfortably back against the wall, satisfied.
There’s going to be a lot to figure out now, given how their friendship so far has been filled with misunderstandings and false assumptions. They’re going to have to re-evaluate Yeosang’s place in the crew, and Mingi’s definitely going to have to stop giving Yeosang all the most boring and manual jobs now – it’s a miracle he didn’t complain earlier.
But all of that can be dealt with tomorrow.
For now, Mingi likes Yeosang, and Yeosang likes him, and they’re sitting together, enjoying the stars and each other’s company.
For now, that’s all that matters.