Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Remember to pick up a cake on the way over, honey.

Seokjin shoots off a quick reply to his mother before stepping out onto his usual platform, the doors sliding closed quietly behind him in a small rush of air as the maglev speeds off.

As the unmarried younger son, he’s thankful to only be responsible for dessert. There’s no time between his work day and the transit home to prepare anything of his own, but the trusty open-air street mall near his apartment always comes through.

It’s been a few months since he stumbled across the cake vending machine one evening on his way past. It’s nostalgic, seeing such a quaint set up in the inner city, but it has a certain charm.

Unlike the walls of canned drink and capsule toy vending machines that were once rampant throughout Seoul, nothing is pre-packaged in the little shop. Instead of a robotic arm or a refrigerated elevator system, the Small Bytes Bakery is staffed by a domestic-model android.

The shop is twice as wide as a regular vending machine would be, with all the necessary machinery stacked against the sides and back wall in soft marshmallow tones intended to draw in sweet-toothed clientele.

As Seokjin waits behind an impatient office worker, he concedes that it was successful. He’s not usually one for sweets, but the chocolate cake at Small Bytes is on the darker side, and is always impressive when unveiled at the end of a good meal.

Seokjin can smell the mouth-watering scent of fresh vanilla cream and berries even a few steps from the plexiglass barrier, watching as the droid works on his current order quickly and efficiently.

He wears a pale yellow service uniform with a pink and white apron, the customary tag with his designation pinned at his chest. It reads Jimin , a cuter and more human version of his production number, J1-MINI.

He’s a male model droid, one of the prettier ones, but still semi-realistic, though Seokjin has never met a human as attractive. His eyes are round with heavy monolids, his lips thick and pouty, and he has the cutest pink-tipped nose Seokjin has ever seen, human or droid alike. Seokjin always wonders if his spun-gold hair feels as silky as it looks.

“Finally,” the man in front of him mutters under his breath as Jimin packs up a party box of mini cakes. If Seokjin can hear him, Jimin definitely can, but he’s well programmed, and simply smiles as he turns and slides the order through the window in the safety partition.

“Thank you for using our service. We hope to see you again in future,” he says in a gentle voice, bowing respectfully.

The man doesn’t respond, snatching up his order and striding away without another word.

Seokjin waits until Jimin has risen from his bow and seen him to roll his eyes. The droid’s eyes dance with a few green lines of code for a second, before settling back into their usual warm brown.

“Good evening, Seokjin-ssi,” Jimin says with a welcoming smile, and Seokjin deludes himself that he’s not like the other asshole customers, that he’s special, or at least not as much effort. “Are you after the usual?”

Seokjin smiles, waving his wrist over the pay point until it beeps. “Please. I’ve got several fussy senior-citizens to satisfy tonight.”

Jimin laughs easily, tapping a button on the screen hovering before him as he puts in the order. He moves gracefully within the tight space, turning to adjust the conveyor temperature even as he slides a tray of ingredients from a drawer with the other hand.

It always feels like a healing moment to watch Jimin bake, as silly as that would sound if he said it to anyone aloud. It’s an old-fashioned way to make cake, but Seokjin prefers it this way. He could streamline his evening by ordering ahead with the shop’s smartware, but then he’d miss out on the best part.

By traditional methods, it’s still incredibly fast, and Jimin is always able to mix, bake, cool and decorate Seokjin’s usual large cake order in under seven minutes. Seokjin stands a little to the side as he works, watching through the glass as Jimin moves within the small box, expertly folding the batter.

“Is this your favourite flavour?” Seokjin asks as Jimin slides the filled layer pans onto the conveyor belt.

Jimin looks over his shoulder as he wipes already-clean hands on his apron. Seokjin’s never seen a single spot of cake batter on him, but he knows some of his gestures are programmed to be more human, more of what people expect to see, even if he’s other.

“Double choco strawberry?” he laughs. “It’s not even on the menu, you made it up!”

“So it’s not your favourite?” Seokjin says, feeling just a little ridiculous as he pouts at the pretty android.

Jimin scrunches his nose, looking down as he pulls fresh strawberries from the chiller beneath the narrow bench. “I didn’t say that.”

Seokjin grins, feeling a happy thrill at his small victory.

“And what about customers?” Seokjin asks suddenly, feeling a little bold. “Do you have a favourite customer?”

“I’m actually quite fond of Mr Grey-suit, Grumpy-attitude who just left, but I cherish every customer,” Jimin says, looking up at Seokjin with wide eyes.

Seokjin snorts, taken by surprise at his instant comeback. “Are all Small Bytes bakers this funny?”

“No,” Jimin says, half a second late. “I’m the only one like this.”

He’s still smiling, but the response gives Seokjin pause. He lets the silence linger as he watches the progression of his cake as it moves from the baking to cooling stage, a gauge displaying its status until it slides out the other side with a soft ding, naked discs of chocolate cake stacked on a cake board all-ready to be assembled.

Jimin spreads the layers out, spritzing each with sugar syrup to keep the cake moist. Seokjin could tell him not to bother, there’s never any cake leftover after dinner anyway, but he just watches Jimin work, feeling the day’s stresses slip away.

“I don’t have a favourite flavour,” Jimin admits softly. He looks up, eyes disappearing into crescents as he smiles at Seokjin. “I have scent receptors, so I know that everything is fresh,” he assures Seokjin. “But I can’t eat anything, so I’m not sure.”

Seokjin wants to slap himself as Jimin goes back to his work. Of course he doesn’t have a favourite, what a stupid question. Jimin is stuck in a glass cage every day, programmed to make sweet treats he can never taste.

“Can you… Do you ever leave the shop? What do you do when the store is closed?”

Jimin nods, seeming to work slower than usual as he spreads whipped cream, sprinkling grated chocolate and sliced strawberries before he stacks each layer.

“I have to go out to buy ingredients sometimes, but it’s not far,” he says, pointing towards a supply store only a few hundred metres down the mall. “I clean and send a daily report to the owner, then I need to charge for four hours.”

He continues decorating, leaving the sides bare the way Seokjin prefers, and placing whole, hulled strawberries and a few crunchy chocolate pearls on top. Seokjin wonders if Jimin ever sees the sun, or the stars, or feels the wind on his skin. He wonders things no one else bothers to wonder about a lonesome android.

Jimin boxes his cake, breaking the silence to ask if he needs candles, or cutlery, but Seokjin only shakes his head, smiling his thanks a few seconds late as he says goodbye.

He remains deep in thought as he heads towards his family dinner, picturing Jimin alone in his glass box as the night sets in.

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Seokjin always visits Jimin on Fridays evenings, as the sun sinks and his shadow stretches ahead of him on the pavement, but tonight, his parents are away and their family dinner isn’t on. A slivered moon breaks through the late night clouds and his shoes beat a lone rhythm on the pavement as he makes his way from his apartment back to the vending machine.

His eyebrows furrow as he considers that name. Despite its diminutive size, he can’t call it a vending machine. Jimin isn’t a machine, he’s a baker. A petite baker in a petite cake shop. He’s lost in thought as the concrete shifts to tile beneath his feet, only slowing down as a familiar voice calls out to him.

“Seokjin-ssi,” Jimin says, almost reproachfully as Seokjin stops before the counter. “I didn’t think you would come.”

Seokjin ducks his head a little as he smiles, caught off guard by his reaction to Jimin’s words. It’s been a while since he had a haircut, and he hopes the unruly ends his mother complains about are doing a good job covering his flushed ears right now.

“Did you miss me?” he can’t stop himself asking.

Jimin frowns. “You always come on Fridays,” is the android’s only response, but Seokjin holds onto it, imagining it means something more than a cursory observation.

He lowers his head, trying to act contrite despite the bubbly feeling in his chest. “Sorry I’m late.”

Jimin nods, his expression relaxing into his usual smile as he accepts the apology easily. “Double choco strawberry?”

Seokjin smiles, charmed for a moment that Jimin may not fully understand what he does with the cake, only that he feeds his family with it each Friday night. He’s not quite sure why he came, he doesn’t need a whole chocolate cake to himself, but not seeing Jimin had left a strange feeling in his chest all evening.

“Okay,” Seokjin says. “But it’s just for me tonight. Can you make a mini size?”

Jimin’s eyes widen a little in surprise, and Seokjin wonders if he’s curious about him. If he wants to ask questions but his customer service training prevents him. But he nods without comment, gesturing to the scanner politely with both hands, pressing a few buttons on his holoscreen as Seokjin waves his wrist over the sensor.

Seokjin follows his movements as he adds smaller scoops of everything into his mixing bowl, whisking the cocoa and flours together in a blur of his arm, sending a fine chocolate dust into the air that settles a moment later. He portions the glossy chocolate batter into his smallest cake pans, sending them through the oven on its shortest setting, preparing the fruit, chocolate and cream until the oven dings after a quick cooling cycle.

Unlike the large cakes, which he uses a palette knife for, Jimin adds delicate peaks of whipped cream onto the small cake with an old-fashioned piping bag, his cute pink tongue peeking out between his lips as he concentrates.

Seokjin knows it’s probably just another one of those things, those human touches some nameless technician added, but even if it’s choreographed, it’s incredibly endearing.

As Jimin bends down to pull a flat-packed box out from under the bench, Seokjin stops him. “Jimin-ssi,” he asks suddenly. “Would it be okay if I ate it here?”

Jimin looks puzzled for a moment, computing.

No one ever hangs around the vending machine longer than necessary, no one stays to eat. There’s nowhere to sit, or really even sufficient counter space. But no one ever spends this much time conversing with an android either.

“I don’t have a plate for you,” Jimin muses.

“The box is fine,” Seokjin suggests. “Just the lid will be perfect.”

Jimin seems hesitant, but with a smile from Seokjin, he agrees, carefully shifting the cake into the cardboard tray they’ve fashioned from the lid of the cake box. Ever the professional, he places a folded napkin and cutlery on the side, sliding it through the window towards Seokjin.

Jimin watches in fascination as Seokjin digs in, vocal in his enjoyment as his chocolate craving is satisfied. His wide eyes follow Seokjin’s every small movement, cataloguing his emotions as he savours the cake. He must know what happens in theory, but he can never fully understand.

Seokjin leans against the counter, the glass wall separating them as Jimin presses closely against the other side.

“What does it taste like?” Jimin asks curiously.

“Hmm,” Seokjin hums, considering. “It’s hard to describe, but chocolate… it feels warm, and rich. It’s a deep flavour, but can be light and sweet, or dark and bitter depending on how you prepare it. Your chocolate cake is on the darker side, but it’s not bitter. Just a deep, warm flavour that stays on your tongue for ages…” he trails off. “Sorry, I said too much. Does that make sense?”

“I’m not sure,” Jimin says, his head tilted to the side as he watches Seokjin go in for another bite.

Seokjin holds up the fork, showing him the cross-section. “The chocolate cake tastes rich and warm, but the cream is light and sweet and smooth. Because it’s rich, it would be hard to eat a lot of the cake on its own, but the cream and the fresh fruit balance it out, so I can keep eating more,” he says with a smile, before shoving the morsel into his mouth.

“Oh,” Jimin says, eyes wide as he seems to take in the information. Seokjin hopes that even if he can’t eat it himself, he can understand what he’s making a little better.

Even the mini cake is a decently sized portion, and probably better shared between two, but Seokjin is determined and scrapes his makeshift plate clean, licking the last of the cream off his fork.

“Thank you for the meal,” Seokjin says, bowing at Jimin, who he notices looks shocked when he rises, and quickly returns the gesture, bowing as close to ninety degrees as he can within the tight space.

Jimin takes the dirty cardboard back and disposes of it, and Seokjin realises he’s run out of excuses to hang around.

“Is the store closed now?” he asks. It wasn’t far off midnight when he arrived, and he dragged their interaction on as much as possible.

There’s no clock or timers displayed on the fancy baking machine behind him, but Jimin blinks. “Yes,” he says after a moment, frowning as his eyes come back into focus. “For a little while. I didn’t notice.”

Seokjin smiles, a dozen cheesy lines ready on his tongue, but he doesn’t voice them. “Sorry to make you work overtime,” he says. “I’ll see you next week?”

Jimin nods seriously. “Friday,” he says, an unnecessary reminder that Seokjin takes to heart like the promise it is.

“I might come late again like tonight, is that okay?”

Jimin pauses for a second, then nods slowly. “Yes,” he says, smile growing as his eyes crinkle into those endearing crescents. “Good night, Seokjin-ssi.”

Seokjin is past caring that these feelings he’s harbouring aren’t normal. He can’t stop the way his heart speeds up a little every time he sees that smile, and he doesn’t want to.

“Good night, Jimin-ssi,” he says quietly, forcing himself to step away, and walk back to the lonely, slightly larger box of his apartment.

🍰🍰🍰

“Time for one more order?”

Jimin looks up from his holoscreen, where Seokjin can see he’s taking inventory, or placing an order for more ingredients. His smile easily reaches his eyes when he turns towards Seokjin as he steps up to the order window.

“I always have time for you, Seokjin-ssi.” If Seokjin didn’t know better, he would think Jimin was flirting, but he only smiles, swiping back to the order screen as he awaits instructions. “Would you like your usual order, or a mini cake again?”

Seokjin’s parents are still away so he has no one to share with, but having a little extra cake to nibble at over the weekend is the least of his worries.

Seokjin taps his chin, thinking. He makes a show of scanning the menu for the first time since he had initially stumbled across the store six months ago. As expected, the Double Choco Strawberry isn’t listed. “Hmm. How about you surprise me. What kind of cake do you want to make, Jimin-ssi?”

“Hmm,” Jimin hums, a thoughtful sound that Seokjin doesn’t even question as being human. Sometimes it’s hard to tell he isn’t; or it would be, if Jimin weren’t so flawless. He reaches out in one direction then the other, spinning gracefully in the small space as he gathers ingredients, seemingly on a whim.

Seokjin wonders if he’s ever been asked to surprise a customer before, if the option is already built in, or if his consciousness has grown beyond needing to fall back on his programming. Maybe it’s Jimin’s first time being creative, Seokjin wonders sadly.

Jimin doesn’t reach for the cocoa, or the brown sugar Seokjin sees him use for his usual order. He tosses a few different flours into the bowl resting on his hip, not missing a beat as he opens a compartment, scoops up a teaspoon here, half a cup there, even turning away to add a few things when Seokjin can’t see. It’s soon whisked, the wet and dry ingredients added to the whipped butter and sugar a little at a time, gradually but efficiently.

“What kind of cake will it be?” Seokjin asks, leaning against the counter to peer over. He only realises he’s too close when his breath mists the near-invisible plexiglass wall separating them.

Jimin only looks up with a pout, his eyebrows turning down cutely as he shakes his head. Seokjin laughs, tucking his lips into his mouth as he makes a zipping motion, accepting that it’s a secret for now.

Once four small pans of pale yellow batter have been fed onto the conveyor, Jimin starts preparing cream and fruit like he does for Seokjin’s usual order, but this time, he uses fresh raspberries and fine slices of lemon zest.

Seokjin is sure he’s working more slowly this time, taking his time since it’s the end of his work day, and Seokjin secretly hopes that maybe he’s even enjoying himself.

It’s getting late, all but the 24-hour stores closed along the street mall, but Seokjin is happy for Jimin to take his time. He’d hoped he would be the last customer of the night this time, and it looks like his patience paid off as the mall grows quiet around them.

Jimin turns the first cooled cake layer out onto his board, piping a whipped mixture of what Seokjin spies is cream cheese and mascarpone around the edges, dropping a few dollops of a lemony curd in the centre, then swirling a berry coulis through it, and alternating on the next layers. He doesn’t fully cover the top layer, but decorates it with round drops of whipped cream in a crescent shape around one side of the cake, dusting them with raspberry powder and a few of the fresh raspberries and the zest he’d kept aside.

The cake is almost as pretty as Jimin, and matches him well. His soft pink cheeks and full red lips, his creamy skin, all dressed up in lemon yellow. He can’t wait to try it.

He wishes Jimin could taste it too.

Jimin places the cake carefully into a box, the clear window in the side showing off his creation as he slides it through the order window towards Seokjin with a proud smile.

“It’s beautiful, Jimin-ssi,” Seokjin says softly, holding the box securely between his hands. “Ah, I know the store is closed now, and you’re probably about to sleep, but if you have some time, would you like to go for a walk with me?”

Jimin’s eyes widen, and his mouth falls open a few seconds before he can work out what to say. “Oh, I have some time! I only need to charge for 4 hours! That would be very nice,” he says finally, breaking into a smile.

Seokjin returns his smile with relief, heart hammering in his chest like he’d just confessed. “Come out, I’ll lead the way.”

For the first time, Seokjin watches as Jimin presses a button and part of his small bakery counter moves to the side, sliding beneath the adjoining piece to reveal a narrow door hidden in the glass wall.

As Jimin steps out and stops beside Seokjin, he notices the android’s size properly for the first time. Jimin is just as petite as he thought, and somehow even prettier. He feels a little breathless without the barrier between them.

“Is it okay to wear your apron outside?” he asks, and Jimin startles, looking down at himself.

“Oh! No, I suppose not? I’ve never been outside the mall before.”

Seokjin maintains his smile as Jimin pulls the cloth over his head, even if there’s a pang in his chest at his words. He waits as Jimin folds it neatly before he locks the store up behind him.

They don’t go as far away as Seokjin would like to take him, but his heart beats loudly in his ears as he leads Jimin further than he’s been before, through the empty mall, past his supply store and into the courtyard beyond where most of the food stalls are usually set up.

Jimin’s store is unique in several ways, something of a gimmick to be run by a domestic-model android when it’s cheaper to run a high-production level machine that could churn out cakes in bulk. The other stores in the mall only sell pre-prepared food, often pre-cooked and reheated moments before consumption by automated machinery rather than higher-maintenance androids. Even the classic hotteok and tteokbokki stalls Seokjin remembers hearing about from his childhood have been replaced by machines.

The courtyard opens into a park, one of the reclaimed green areas that used to be a commercial zone. In the day, ducks can be heard diving into the artificial lake as the sun sparkles off the water. Seokjin wonders if Jimin would like to see it with him someday, if he can take a break from the store for lunch, before he remembers that androids don’t eat lunch, so aren’t given a break for it.

He looks back again to make sure Jimin is still behind him, but he’s still following curiously, scanning his surroundings with fascination. The park is only a short walk from Jimin’s store, but it’s clearly a brand new world for him, with no chance to see it with his long work days.

Seokjin finds a table overlooking the twilit park and settles down onto the bench seat, gesturing for Jimin to sit next to him.

He places the cake between them, and sits facing Jimin as he opens the box and folds the sides down, awkwardly slicing a piece off with the too-small biodegradable cutlery.

Jimin watches as he cuts through his newly freed slice of cake with the side of his fork, carving off a decently sized piece with all the layers and scooping it up. Jimin follows a fresh raspberry with his eyes as it falls off onto the flattened cake box, and Seokjin hides his smile as he collects it without a word, placing it back on the top of his slice.

The cross-section is pretty, showing six thin slices of pale yellow cake, with lemon curd and raspberry filling swirled through the alternating layers of whipped cream.

"It looks really good inside too, Jimin-ssi. Your layers are so pretty and even," he can't help but reflect it when Jimin gives him a proud smile. "I know you can't taste it, but they say scent is like seventy percent of flavour. Here," he says, holding the bite of cake just beneath Jimin's cute button nose. 

Jimin sniffs, instinctually closing his eyes for a moment as he breathes in. "Oh."

"What do you smell?"

"Lemon. Sugar. Olive oil. Raspberries. Cream. Vanilla–" Jimin recites.

Seokjin laughs. "No, no. Beyond just the ingredients. Does it smell like anything all together?"

Jimin sniffs again, looking puzzled as he thinks for a moment. "It smells fresh, and sweet from the fruit sauces," he says thoughtfully. "The raspberries smell sweet and a bit tart, and the lemon scent is very strong. The whipped cream smells… creamy," he says, making Seokjin laugh. "But it's not too sweet, but slightly floral?" he says, tilting his head. 

Seokjin smiles, pulling back as Jimin follows the fork with his eyes. "That's probably the vanilla bean you added to the cream. But see! You practically tasted it. Now it's my turn."

Jimin watches with a wide-eyed focus as Seokjin’s lips part and close over the fork as he has his first taste, humming in pleasure as the flavours mix and melt on his tongue.

If Seokjin is honest, he didn’t anticipate liking the cake. He’s well-known among his family and friends for saying ‘You know it’s chocolate or nothing, right?’, but he never told Jimin about his selective sweet tooth, and he would have appreciated anything he made because of who made it anyway.

But the android watches his expression, reading the signals as it shifts from consideration, to surprise, and finally into satisfaction. Even if he hadn’t liked it, Seokjin knows at that moment that he would have lied through his sugar-coated teeth. Jimin’s eyes flash in green lines for a moment, cheeks rising in a smile as his eyes crinkle.

But he’s not lying when he admits that Jimin’s cake is good. It’s not too sweet, but rather mellow, with a deep, almost savoury lemon flavour, the tartness of the citrus and the fresh raspberry filling cut by the lightly sweetened cream.

Jimin leans forward, watching him closely. “Do you like it?” he asks.

Seokjin nods, trying to pick out the secret ingredients Jimin tried to keep from him. “Yeah,” he admits, licking a few missed specks of cream from his fork as he goes back in for more.

He looks up at Jimin, suddenly struck by how cute he is like this, all his yellows shaded blue under the starlight, his cheeks a little pink even now as his hair is teased by the wind. He looks much better out in the world than he does in his little box. He looks happy.

“It’s incredible, Jimin,” he continues softly, “You should add it to the regular menu.”

Jimin giggles, and Seokjin is bewitched by the heavenly sound. It’s different from his usual laughter, and Seokjin has to lower his fork as it sets off a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

Jimin leans over, his face drawing closer as Seokjin’s eyes widen. Jimin smiles as he wipes Seokjin’s thick lower lip, Seokjin frozen in place as he brushes it a few times with the soft pad of his thumb.

“You’re so messy, Seokjin-ssi,” he teases, and Seokjin is glad it's dark this time; he knows his hair can’t hide his blush today as it spreads beyond his ears and down his neck.

“You can call me hyung,” he blurts out before he can think it through, and it’s Jimin’s turn to freeze, his hand still hovering over Seokjin’s chin.

“Oh,” he says finally, pulling back almost shyly. Can androids get shy? Seokjin doesn’t know. “That would be nice… hyung,” he says quietly, his eyes still wide. “But how did you know that I’m younger than you?”

Seokjin pauses, because he really didn’t know. He never had paid much attention in Robotics class at school, always more interested in other subjects. He’s starting to regret that now.

“Ah. Because you’re small,” he says, desperate.

He discovers a split second later that androids can glare, and Jimin has a particular talent.

“I’m not that small,” he says, standing up with his hands on his hips. Seokjin only needs to tilt his head slightly more to meet his eyes.

“You’re small compared to me,” Seokjin points out, stubbornly digging his hole. “Your full name even has ‘mini’ in it.”

“That’s not fair,” Jimin whines, shoulders drooping despite his usual model-perfect posture. “I just can’t grow.”

Seokjin reaches across the table to take his hand, trying not to overthink it as he feels Jimin’s soft skin, his small fingers. He’s warm and so real. “You’re just the right size,” he says quietly. “And if you were any bigger, your shop would be so cramped.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything, staring at their clasped hands as they hover in the air between them.

Emboldened, he tugs on Jimin’s hand, drawing him back down to the bench.

Jimin follows, sitting down next to him facing out into the park as Seokjin leans back, careful of the cake behind them. Their hands remain clasped, coming to rest on the bench between them.

“But being small doesn’t have anything to do with age…” Seokjin smiles into the darkness as he overhears Jimin muttering.

“What do you think?” he asks, attempting to distract them both.

He can see Jimin’s head turn towards him in the corner of his eye. “Think of what?”

“The universe,” Seokjin says in a soft voice, and Jimin follows his gaze up, and up, and up some more, his back meeting the edge of the table as he tilts his chin.

There’s no response, and Seokjin looks over a few seconds later, feeling like someone is gripping his heart when he sees Jimin’s expression.

Jimin is frozen in place again, his free hand drawn to his chest and his lips parted in what Seokjin can only describe as awe. The soft waves of his hair have fallen back in this position, his forehead bare and his eyebrows drawn up in the middle as he scans the skies.

The only part of the android that’s moving are his eyes, bright flickers of code moving like fireflies in their night-darkened depths, his own small galaxy hidden within.

Even as recently as Seokjin’s childhood, the skies of Seoul were nothing special, the dark space seen between the skyscrapers crowding the city centre marred by fog, fine dust and light pollution all year. But the slow push towards sustainable living had spread rapidly throughout the country in the last twenty years, dozens of large scale, interconnected projects gradually clearing the skies of Seoul so on clear nights like tonight, thousands of stars can be seen by the naked eye.

Seokjin wonders if Jimin can see even more, if he can know things beyond the human experience.

He leans over, butting his shoulder gently into Jimin’s as he squeezes his hand. “You okay?”

Jimin moves slowly, tracing constellations Seokjin can’t see. “There’s so much,” he says in a soft voice.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Jimin nods his head slowly, dragging his eyes away to look at Seokjin. He stares for a moment, and Seokjin feels like he can’t breathe. “Beautiful… yes,” Jimin agrees, before his gaze is drawn back to the skies.

Seokjin leans back again, giving Jimin some quiet to count the twinkling stars, or contemplate the vast expanse of the universe, whatever is going on in that mysterious mind of his as his heart rate returns to normal. 

Seokjin finds himself wondering silly things. He wonders if androids go to sleep while they're charging. If Jimin has any dreams. And just how much a tiny cake shop could really cost.

"Jimin-ah," Seokjin says after a few minutes, waiting until he's sure Jimin is listening. "Do you enjoy baking?"

Jimin tilts his head, looking out into the darkened park as he considers. "I'm not sure," he says eventually. "It's all I can remember."

Seokjin nods. He doesn't know if androids have their own interests, if they think in such complex ways, but it's hard to believe that Jimin's personality could have been entirely programmed. He's too real.

"I like making cakes for you, hyung," he says quietly, giving Seokjin's hand a tentative squeeze, like Seokjin had done earlier. 

"I'm glad," Seokjin smiles. "If you didn't work at the cake shop, are there other things you would want to try?"

Jimin doesn't reply for a while, and Seokjin wonders if he's gone too far. He doesn't want to confuse him, or lead him on if what he's saying isn't possible.

He looks up after a few minutes. "I like flowers. I would like to see more flowers," he says with a smile. "They sell flowers at the supply store sometimes. Some flowers are even edible!" he says, wide eyed. "People put them on cakes sometimes. But I would like to see them growing, I think."

"There are flowers in this park," Seokjin says. "Although many of them sleep at night too. I can show you them sometime, would you like that?"

Jimin nods quickly, breaking into the prettiest smile Seokjin has ever seen. 

"It's a date then," Seokjin says, immediately turning back to the sky as he realises what he said.

Jimin seems oblivious to his slip, following his gaze back to the stars as if he could never drink in enough of those tiny, distant lights. 

They stay there for a while, talking about random things. It's as quiet as central Seoul ever really gets, but Seokjin feels like they're the only two people on earth. 

Jimin points to the sky and asks what the different colours mean, and Seokjin has to admit that he can't see them, but they're probably different planets. How Mercury looks golden, and Mars red, sometimes even with human eyes if they're close. How humans have been trying to colonise Mars for a few decades now, but it's still a long way off.

Jimin explains how he can download information about new topics, if he knows what questions to ask. Seokjin smiles as he recites his new space facts proudly a few minutes later, pointing out specific constellations across the sky. Seokjin grows cold as the night grows late, but he realises that Jimin never really does, his hand keeping Seokjin's warm. 

It's past 2am when Seokjin finally stretches his stiff shoulders, the movement drawing Jimin from his thoughts. 

Seokjin smiles as Jimin looks towards him, an awed and slightly puzzled expression on his face. "Come on," he says, tugging his hand gently to pull him up. "It's probably time for you to rest and recharge, isn't it? I'll walk you back."

They have to let go of each other to pack the rest of the cake up, Seokjin carrying it by the handle in one hand as his other finds Jimin's again. Jimin naturally slips his fingers between Seokjin's, and Seokjin realises a few hours of handholding haven't come close to making him immune to the surge of his nerves. 

They walk back slowly, Seokjin teaching Jimin about window shopping as they pass a few dozen darkened storefronts before they reach his little shop.

"I guess… I'll see you next Friday," Seokjin says reluctantly, playing with Jimin's small fingers. 

Instead of his usual goodbye, Jimin frowns, looking down at their joined hands. "You can visit on other days too, not just Friday."

Seokjin keeps himself calm, even if his heart is beating like crazy. "I shouldn't eat cake every day though…"

Jimin's eyebrows turn down, that glare returning. "You can visit without buying cake, Seokjin-ssi," he says firmly, like Seokjin is an idiot. 

Seokjin laughs, a smile breaking free despite himself. "Yeah? I'm Seokjin-ssi again, huh? What would we do instead if I didn't order cake?"

Jimin doesn't respond for a moment, thinking. "Walking was fun," he says eventually. "I think I like walks, and stars. You said you would show me flowers. We could hold hands again."

"Do you like us holding hands?" Seokjin asks carefully. 

Jimin looks down at their hands, hovering between them, their fingers laced together. He doesn't swing them, or fidget the way a human might, but instead just holds Seokjin's hands as if he's prepared to keep doing so until Seokjin lets go. He looks back up, meeting Seokjin's eyes. "Yes. Very much. It feels nice."

"Okay, then we can hold hands again next time," Seokjin says, the words coming out much more casually than he feels. 

"Can we kiss, too?" Jimin asks innocently, and Seokjin chokes on air.

Jimin looks concerned, patting him gently on the back until his coughing fit is over. "Hyung?"

"Uh, Jimin-ah, why do you ask that?" Seokjin says weakly. 

"You said we would have a date, so I downloaded some articles about them. If a date is good, you press your lips together and make a kiss," Jimin says, matter-of-factly.

Seokjin is beginning to realise he did not think this through at all. He's suddenly hoping there's no other awkward Talks in their future, at least not for a while. "Uh. Not everyone kisses, even when the date is good. You only kiss if you both want to."

"Oh, okay. I want to kiss you, though," Jimin says simply, the sweetest smile on his face. "Do you want to kiss me too?"

Seokjin’s face must be the same pink as Small Bytes at that moment, but he got himself into this situation. He swallows, taking a shallow breath as Jimin waits patiently before him. He looks at Jimin's soft, pouty lips, his pretty face and expressive eyes, and even though he doesn't know the first thing about a relationship with an android, suddenly none of that matters. 

"Yes," Seokjin says breathlessly. "I would like to kiss you very much."

"Oh good," Jimin says, his eyes crinkling adorably at the corners again. He makes no move to initiate it on his own, and Seokjin is grateful. He definitely needs to read a few articles of his own. 

"I should go into rest mode now," Jimin says, looking down. "I need to start my prep work at 6.30am."

"Of course," Seokjin says, reluctantly letting go of his hands. "You should sleep, you work hard."

Jimin smiles sadly, opening the secret door and stepping back into his shop as the glass separates them again. 

"Goodnight, hyung," Jimin says softly. 

"Goodnight, Jimin-ah," Seokjin says back, waving as he makes himself turn away. "I'll see you soon."

It's harder to leave Jimin behind than ever before, but they have a date that needs planning, and Seokjin has some research that needs doing. He also needs to think how to broach the subject of buying his new maybe-boyfriend off his current owner, but that feels like more of a second date conversation. 

As his shoes tap a familiar rhythm on the pavement on the way back to his apartment, he realises he's grinning to himself, but he can't stop. He tries to calm down when he considers that swinging the cake box from side to side might not be the best idea, but he knows it'll be delicious even if it's a little squashed. 

Call him biased, but Seokjin thinks everything Jimin makes tastes a little bit like love.