Requested by YYY_nuts
Android AU

Fashion designer Jung Wooyoung sat in his private jet towards his journey to Paris, France. The sky was dark, and you couldn't see anything below. The man sighed. It looked like some kind of strange black hole.

Wooyoung admitted he could reflect the same feeling. While he was nervous about his job, there was something bothering him in his head and heart for the last five years: a literal eternal darkness in him that could never leave.

"S-Shit," he whispered and wiped his incoming tears away.

"Mr. Jung, are you alright?" an employee of his asked softly. Wooyoung nodded at the older woman.

"I'm just..." he laughed. "I'm nervous, that's all."

She looked at him in agreement. "It's normal to be. You're about to showcase your styles for the first time on the biggest runway in the world. You've worked very hard. I'm proud of you."

Wooyoung wanted to embrace her. She was a mentor, almost mother, to him. But there was simply too much sadness in his heart as her words struck another feeling.

"T-Thank you," Wooyoung said as he ran to the bathroom.

Upon shutting the door, he fell to the ground in tears. He was finally here, achieving his dreams.

Wooyoung always wanted to create something and show it to the rest of the world. And through school, he found a love for fashion he'd never thought he could have before. His biggest goal then was to showcase his creations to the entire fashion world. From there, he hoped, Wooyoung's company could expand a lot further.

But something was holding him down. With every two steps forward, there was a step back.

Guilt? Sadness? Anger? Blame? Wooyoung wasn't sure what to identify it as.

Because a few years ago, back in college, Wooyoung met a boy in his dance club. The boy — San — was slightly older, very handsome, and incredibly kind to him. Wooyoung spoke to him enough until they became friends. And only two weeks later, San confessed he felt deeper feelings. The two began happily dating.

Wooyoung loved San's presence. Everything about the young man was all he could ask for. Anytime someone mentioned San, his day became a hundred times brighter at the thought of him.

San felt the same way. Maybe even more. He grew attached to Wooyoung. A large part of his time was spent thinking about the younger. And on most occasions, he was there to comfort Wooyoung.

It wasn't a creepy attachment, either — more like mutual. San liked giving attention, while Wooyoung enjoyed receiving it. That's how their relationship bloomed.

Unfortunately, the beautiful romance wouldn't last long. While San opted to graduate successfully and move on to dance projects, Wooyoung would be offered to attend several schools abroad to expand his practice further. He desired to take them so severely.

'So I was wondering... that I thought it was a great idea if I took them,' Wooyoung told him while having dinner. San sat silently across him.

'That's good.'

'Are you sure?' Wooyoung sensed something wrong that night. He should've known.

'Yeah. I don't want to get in the way of your dreams, baby,' San said with a smile. Wooyoung squeezed his hand.

'Thank you. I love you so much.'

By next month, Wooyoung had his things packed up, ready to spend a semester a school out of the country. And San braced himself to say goodbye for the first time.

The classes became grueling to Wooyoung. Most of the time, he would finish the homework of one and then move to the other. On breaks, he spent time studying his textbook or working at the studio. Very little time did he have to check his phone.

Meanwhile, San led his dance classes at a studio back home and checked his phone whenever possible. No messages or calls. Nothing. Social media? Zero. He had no way of checking in with Wooyoung, and he started getting anxious.

'What?' Wooyoung asked a little too harshly over the phone. He struggled with balancing the various texture pieces in his hands, his bag over his shoulder, and his phone against his ear.

'I wanted to call and make sure you were okay,' San said. His voice sounded small.

'Well, you can hear I'm fine, can't you— Shit.' Wooyoung sighed as a few papers slipped out of his hand. 'San—'

'Oh. Let me help you,' a male classmate offered. Wooyoung thanked him in relief.

'Who... Who is that?' San gulped.

'San, I have to go to class. Bye.'

It was that call that changed everything. Wooyoung cried harder and curled up beside the door. Only the sound of the jet filled his ears.

'I think it's better if we broke up,' he told San a week later.

'...'

'San?'

'I can wait, baby. I will.'

'It won't work. I'm too busy here. You don't... deserve someone like me. Find someone else, Sannie.'

'I love you so much, Woo!' San yelled various things about love and how strong he felt towards Wooyoung. He wasn't giving up.

'I'm sorry, San. I'm really sorry.' Wooyoung hung up.

"Mr. Jung? Are you okay?" a stewardess knocked. Wooyoung wiped his moist cheek away.

"Yeah..."

Wooyoung fainted the day a friend called to tell him San had passed away in a home invasion.

"Sir," another person knocked. "We're getting ready to land. Please return to your seat soon."

Wooyoung somehow managed to drag himself up and stagger back to his seat. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked out the window. Most of it looked blurry as tears didn't want to stop rushing out.

"We've arrived in Paris, Wooyoung."

The first thing Wooyoung did after getting to the hotel was sleep. He was exhausted from thinking. Memories did that to him a lot. But it was his fault, Wooyoung thought. Being in Paris felt bittersweet.

The next morning Wooyoung traveled to his workspace where he'd meet all his models. But first, his selections. Wooyoung inspected them, impressed and proud that they would be shown to the entire fashion industry.

"Wooyoung? A few of the models are here."

Wooyoung fidgeted with the sleeve of an embroidered jacket he designed just months ago. It took a few more calls to get his attention.

"Are you coming to meet them, Wooyoung?"

"Oh. Right." Wooyoung followed his trusted mother-like employee down to the dressing rooms. The first thing he caught was how tall and lean these models were. Their faces appeared to be sculpted perfectly — like a perfectionist handcrafted every dent or shade on the skin.

And what's more? Their expressions were relatively calm. They said close to nothing, only a small greeting to Wooyoung and minor comments about his fashion line. Otherwise, that was it.

Wooyoung pulled his employee aside. "What's... up with them? They're so dull."

"Dull?" she laughed. "Well, they're certainly not jumping in happiness to be here. Maybe it's been a rough week. How have you been doing?"

Wooyoung shrugged. He could understand that. He hasn't had the perfect week, either.

The doors to the dressing room opened, and two figures entered the room, holding hands.

Wooyoung lost his breath for a moment. The one in front looked so perfect, so ethereal, so... familiar.

Extremely familiar.

"It looks like two more have arrived. Let's greet them, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung held eye contact with the first model. He didn't care if his legs froze. He didn't mind if he was regarded as creepy to his coworker. Wooyoung only focused on one thing.

"My name is San. This is my boyfriend, Ten," the man said.

Wooyoung's eyes fell to their strong handholding below. His hand started pulsing. He loathed it: Everything.

"This is Wooyoung. He's the designer of the collection you'll be wearing," the woman introduced, knowing Wooyoung wasn't paying attention well.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Ten nodded. Wooyoung shook his hand and shivered at the iciness he felt. His hold was firm.

"We'll see you at the runway, okay?" The woman dragged Wooyoung back to their office.

"What's wrong? What happened with you and that model? Do you know him?"

Wooyoung was shaken from the events. He could do nothing but try to control his breathing.

"He's... my ex... but..."

"You told me he was dead."

"It's him. That person is him, but..." Wooyoung shook his head. 

"But he's not that person."

Rehearsal for the runway continued for the whole day. It was the fourth time they had gone through when Wooyoung called for a break. Too much filled his head.

"I'm sorry," he said and walked away.

Wooyoung continued shaking his head while jogging down the stairs. He opened the back door and proceeded into the alley.

Pollution fumes and past rain ran into his nose. It wasn't clean, but he just needed some outside air. Wooyoung's ears picked up on a small sound around the corner.

A cat. Innocently scraping at something besides the trash cans. Something small fell and caused it to jump away in fear. Wooyoung cooed, debating whether or not to approach the furry animal.

Suddenly, a large object flew over a long distance and fell above the cat's head. The animal fell lifeless to the ground. Wooyoung backed up in terror.

"Oh shit. You got it," a deep voice commented.

"—never fail me," a second one replied. Wooyoung missed the first part. His hands were shaking.

They instantly trembled more when he saw who it was. Ten and San, approaching the cat with their long, slim legs. They still wore Wooyoung's clothing, making them appear threatening and wealthy.

Wooyoung stood frozen. Should he run? Should he interrogate them? What could he do about an alley cat coldheartedly killed by them?

Then he turned.

Not Wooyoung, but San. He stared at Wooyoung more intently than before. A small smile grew on his lips. Wooyoung felt something drop in his stomach, so he backed away. That wasn't the San he knew. No. That thing was something different. Wooyoung moved until he thought he was far, turned, and ran.

To his dismay, heavy footsteps reached him and arms swiftly wrapped around his waist to trap his body against the wall.

"No! N-No!" Hands muffled Wooyoung's mouth.

"Shh," the voice said. Wooyoung timidly looked into San's eyes. They were quizzical, beady, and emotionless. Wooyoung would've chosen lifeless to describe them instead. He quivered under the man.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"I'm San." Wooyoung didn't look away. "Is that familiar?"

The terrified fashioner nodded slowly.

"So I'm right. You haven't changed much, Wooyoung," San smirked.

No. Not that. Wooyoung blushed under him. His smirk was unacceptable — especially in this look. His face was perfect, and a smirk helps no one.

"It's you? Is it really you?"

"I don't know who 'you' is," San tonelessly answered. The teasing dimple disappeared.

"It's you. My Sannie—" Wooyoung whimpered when San slammed his fist against the wall. He shook a bit of rock dust off his knuckles.

"My name is San."

"S-San... You know me. And I know you. R-Right?" Wooyoung wanted to touch his face. But why was the model getting closer to him?

San stopped until their lips were almost touching. Then he grinned, eyes just about closing and dimple returning. "We should return and prepare for your big day tomorrow."

Wooyoung watched the mesmerizing man back away. The model opened the back door and seemed to hold it for a few seconds before letting it close. And like that, the designer's mind returned to spinning.

What the fuck was that interaction?

San didn't speak to Wooyoung after that. He did what was told to all the models, no questions asked. Only, Wooyoung placed more attention on him now.

San moved smoothly on the platform. His footsteps calculated precisely where to stand without looking at the marked spots on the ground. His joints forced the clothes to sway flamboyantly around his muscular torso. All looked perfect. Maybe that's why they chose this sheer top and ripped jeans for him.

"Could you do something with your arms?" an onlooker suggested. San took a moment before nodding and walking down the runway again. It looked the same except for the small flick of the wrist he made as he came to a stop.

Wooyoung's eyes focused on something across San's exposed skin, written in black. Two letters: SM. He frowned. Although it was a quick moment, the picture stuck to his brain.

A tattoo? Wooyoung didn't believe it for some strange reason. The font was too perfect for a tattoo. If that's how it was requested, the pigment was strangely dark. Too solid and black.

"Excuse me," he apologized to the employees beside him.

'SM tattoo' is what Wooyoung searched on his laptop. He didn't read the description. He simply moved to the images tab.

Thousands of photos revealed similar marks to the one San had. All of them labeled SM with a minuscule string of numbers below. Wooyoung had to squint to see them. Was it some sort of label?

"No..." The male soon got his answer upon clicking a close-up photo of the mark. His eyes scanned over the article title.

'See this tattoo? Chances are you've found an android,' it read. Wooyoung swallowed. The reading spoke about a company under the name of SM. They mass-produced androids — illegally — and did it so flawlessly. The results were unimaginable. Wooyoung's fingertips turned to stone as he scrolled down the website. The before and after photos were haunting. Regular persons transformed into alluring beings.

Then it all snapped into place. San was one of them. At least, what he thought was San. That thing was a robot disguised as a man who was once a part of his life. San still was, though. At least, the real one was.

Does that mean his boyfriend, Ten, was an android as well?

Wooyoung slept late that night in his hotel room. When he thought it would be nerves for tomorrow's showcase that were bothering him, San took over instead. He needed to know more. He planned to confront it.

Wooyoung waved to the various cameras flashing at him. His faulty smile fooled them there. Deep down, he was waiting for the perfect time he could approach San. Sadly, it didn't look to be happening any time soon.

The models were walking around the dressing room, getting makeup or hair done. Wooyoung walked around, paranoid. Every time he walked by someone, his eyes flicked down to their wrists. And on a few, he found the mark.

"Wooyoung!" a voice happily exclaimed. The designer turned. Oh.

"Ten. Are you ready?"

The model laughed dryly. "I did not think you would've remembered my name. I've done these jobs for a long time. This is your first big runway. Are you ready?"

Wooyoung dwelled on the first sentence rather than the question. He wasn't sure why. "Of course I know you're name. You do a r-really good job with modeling. I saw you during practice yesterday. You worked very hard without much rest."

"Is that for me? Or my boyfriend?" Ten accused. Wooyoung stopped breathing. The man, or should he say android, stared with piercing eyes. They challenged Wooyoung's terrified pair.

"Enough." San tugged Ten's wrist. But he made sure to wink at Wooyoung while stepping away.

Some of San was there. Wooyoung's sure.

The showcase was a success. Wooyoung heard congratulations from many employees and several important figures as his timeframe passed. They commented on the designs and creativity he had. A few even hinted at a collaboration. It all made Wooyoung's heart soar.

Then he returned backstage. Wooyoung's face heated up. San boldly tossed his shirt to the side, preparing to change into some casual wear. He looked up and smiled.

"Mr. Jung," he began.

"Wooyoung."

"Congratulations." His hands wouldn't move to put on the top. He knew how much Wooyoung liked the view.

"I..." Wooyoung stumbled on his speech. "I need to talk to you. Outside, please."

San rose an eyebrow but nodded. He tossed on whatever denim jacket he found and followed Wooyoung to the alley where they stood last night.

"Yes?"

"Show me your wrist."

San looked around and then chuckled. "Um, what?"

"Just—" Wooyoung pulled his arm. San instantly yanked his limb back.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Show it to me!" Wooyoung exclaimed, tears in his eyes. San analyzed the moisture then complied.

"What does this mean?" he was asked. Wooyoung traced his finger along the black imprint.

"You aren't supposed... to... know."

Wooyoung's eyes widened at San's hands opening and closing frantically. His head slightly twitched to the side.

"Did SM change you?"

The movements worsened.

"Are you in there, Sannie?"

San retracted his hand as his mouth tried to form a response. Wooyoung didn't know whether to reach for him or not.

"San..."

"Get down."

"Huh?"

San tackled Wooyoung to the pavement just as a gunshot ran through their ears. A tiny bullet was now in the wall. Wooyoung's heart raced as San held him against his hard chest. Was this made of metal too?

"Rebel. Must destroy." Ten tilted his head and loaded up the weapon again.

"Move back," San gritted and pushed Wooyoung away. He shifted his attention to the android.

Wooyoung winced as the two tackled each other. Ten's hands let go of the gun. Wooyoung wanted to run and grab it, but fear set his legs to stone. The sound of people screaming in the distance scared him more.

San threw punches at Ten whenever he could. But the two were artificially made. And if anything, San was now less robot than Ten.

"Wooyoung!" San shouted. His hand strained to grab the gun. Ten's hands squeezed his neck.

Wooyoung tried to make an advance for the weapon, but he was too late. Ten took it and aimed at him instead. Wooyoung raised his hands in defense.

"P-Please no..."

San flipped the two over again right as another shot fired. Now Wooyoung could do nothing. He heard sirens in the distance.

The third shot almost burst Wooyoung's ears. He clasped his hands over them and shut his eyes.

A fourth. A fifth.

Wooyoung didn't want to see. He was scared. Too scared.

Then a hand touched his shoulder. He opened up to see San loosely holding the gun, an exhausted expression over his face.

"San!" Wooyoung yelled when the man fell to the ground, clutching his wound. At least one bullet did penetrate his chest.

Wooyoung's hands tried to hold the warm blue blood in. It only worked a little. San grunted as he took one of Wooyoung's hands and stared at him.

"Y-You're going to live," Wooyoung sobbed. "You'll live, San."

"Oh, baby," San whispered.

"Stay with me. Keep breathing."

"Wooyoung..."

"This time, I won't leave you. I'll keep my promise. I love you so much." Wooyoung pressed San's hand against his cheek, trying to give his warmth as the rain started pouring over them. An ambulance had arrived.

"I believe you, Woo."

"I know you're in there, Sannie. I'll get you out. I promise."

a little long, but this was very fun to write. i hope people liked it!