Tobias Greene stood in the center of his apartment’s pristine living room, his arms folded neatly across his chest, a faint frown pulling at his lips. “They said it would arrive precisely at eight o’clock,” he muttered, glancing at the digital clock on the wall, its sleek numbers glowing faintly in the soft morning light. “It’s 8:03. You’d think an advanced AI delivery service would be more precise.” 

Behind Tobias, his husband Graham chuckled, the sound warm and unhurried, a soothing counterpoint to Tobias’ sharp edges. “Maybe they ran into traffic,” he teased, leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. His casual stance, paired with the faintly rumpled cardigan he wore over his white t-shirt and dark slacks, contrasted with Tobias’ polished appearance. 

Tobias, in his early forties, exuded an air of meticulous control. His short, salt-and-pepper hair was trimmed with surgical precision, the silver streaks at his temples complementing his piercing gray eyes. His clean-shaven jawline and angular features gave him a commanding presence, further accentuated by the sharp lines of his tailored navy suit. Even at home, Tobias insisted on dressing impeccably, as if ready to walk into a boardroom at a moment’s notice. 

Graham, in contrast, had a softer presence, both in demeanor and appearance. His wavy chestnut-brown hair, streaked lightly with grey, curled naturally at the edges, refusing to be tamed. His hazel eyes, framed by faint laugh lines, carried an inviting warmth that made people instantly feel at ease. Though his stocky frame hinted at a life less regimented than Tobias’ own, Graham carried himself with quiet confidence, his easy smile a balm to Tobias’ tightly wound energy. 

Their apartment reflected Tobias’ taste more than Graham’s, though it bore traces of both men. The space was sleek and modern, with clean lines and a monochromatic color palette dominated by whites, grays, and deep blues. In the living room, a glass coffee table stood atop an angular gray rug, flanked by a low, modular sofa in cool slate tones. A series of minimalist abstract paintings hung on the walls, their muted colors adding just enough interest to avoid sterility. 

Yet there were hints of Graham’s influence, too—soft touches of personality scattered like breadcrumbs. A hand-knitted blanket draped over one arm of the sofa broke the symmetry of the living room. On the kitchen counter, a collection of ceramic mugs, each one uniquely glazed and slightly imperfect, stood in stark contrast to Tobias’ insistence on uniformity. 

The two men had been together for nearly fifteen years, and despite their differences, they had found a rhythm that worked. Tobias’ drive balanced Graham’s laid-back charm, and Graham’s humor kept Tobias from taking himself too seriously. 

The doorbell rang sharply, cutting through the quiet hum of the apartment. Tobias straightened immediately, brushing an invisible wrinkle from his sleeve before heading to the door. “Finally,” he said, his voice a mix of irritation and anticipation. 

Graham followed more leisurely, curious to see how the much-discussed robot butler would measure up. 

When Tobias opened the door, they were met with an impressive and uncanny sight. Standing in the hallway was a tall, humanoid figure, its polished chrome and matte steel exterior catching the light. The robot was dressed impeccably in what could only be described as a futuristic interpretation of a butler’s uniform—an angular, dark gray suit that seemed tailored to its broad frame, paired with a black shirt and a sleek, metallic tie. Its “face,” though minimalist, featured glowing blue eyes that adjusted their intensity as they scanned Tobias and Graham in turn. 

“Good morning, Messrs. Greene,” the robot intoned, its voice smooth and soothing, with just enough warmth to avoid sounding completely mechanical. “I am Model AX-33, though you may call me Max. I am here to assist you in achieving your New Year’s resolutions and optimizing your lives.” 

Graham raised an eyebrow and gave Tobias a sidelong glance. “Looks like we’ve got the Rolls Royce of robot butlers,” he quipped. 

Tobias stepped back to allow Max inside, his critical eye scanning the machine for imperfections. “We’ll see about that,” he replied. “Come in, Max. Let’s see what you can do.” 

Max entered with precise, fluid movements, its glowing eyes taking in the apartment as if assessing its efficiency. “This space has potential,” Max remarked, pausing to look at the glass coffee table. “Minor adjustments to layout could increase functionality by 12 percent.” 

Graham snorted into his coffee. “I think the table’s fine where it is, thanks.” 

Tobias ignored him, already intrigued. “What adjustments?” 

Max gestured toward the sofa and table. “Shifting the sofa six inches closer to the wall would allow for better flow between the living and dining areas. Additionally, decluttering superfluous personal items from visible surfaces would enhance the aesthetic.” Its glowing eyes flickered briefly to the knitted blanket on the sofa and the ceramic mugs on the counter. 

Graham frowned slightly but said nothing, sipping his coffee. 

Tobias, however, nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense,” he said, already moving to fold the blanket. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Graham said, holding up a hand. “Don’t touch my blanket. It stays.” 

Max tilted its head, the gesture somehow managing to convey mild disapproval. “Sentimental items are often a source of unnecessary entanglement,” it said evenly. 

“Sentimental items are also what makes a home feel like a home,” Graham countered, his tone light but firm. 

Tobias sighed, placing the folded blanket back on the sofa arm. “Fine. It stays.” 

Max inclined its head. “Understood.” It turned its glowing eyes back to Tobias. “Shall we proceed with your resolutions, Messrs. Greene?” 

Tobias nodded, his excitement returning. “Yes. Graham and I made resolutions together this year, and we thought you’d be the perfect addition to help us achieve them.” 

“And what are your resolutions?” Max asked, its glowing eyes dimming slightly as if focusing in on the couple. 

Tobias spoke first, his voice crisp and determined. “To be more organized and efficient. I want to eliminate wasted time and maximize productivity.” 

“And mine,” Graham said, stepping forward, “is to be a better partner. To support Tobias and help us have a more balanced life.” 

Max processed their words for a moment before responding. “Excellent resolutions, Sirs. My programming is well suited to assist with both. I will begin optimizing your daily routines immediately with your goals in mind.” 

Graham gave a nervous laugh. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered under his breath. 

Max turned to Tobias. “Would you like me to demonstrate my capabilities now?” 

Tobias’ eyes lit up. “Absolutely.” 

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