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There’s something to be said about slow grinding instead of rapid thrusting, Kim Dokja reluctantly admits. Whilst he does enjoy the latter, being presently forced into the former is a wonderful predicament.
It’s the sheer depth that Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock reaches inside of him from this position, the way every gentle rock builds a friction that they can’t otherwise make. Kim Dokja rolls his hips again, utterly content with how they can be plastered so close together and not ruin the rhythm they’ve built up. Chest to chest. No escape, not now.
“There’s no way you’re getting anything out of this, is there?” he asks, voice trembling somewhat.
Yoo Joonghyuk kisses his jaw and then tucks his head right back against Kim Dokja’s neck, pulling him even closer. “There is,” he promises. Like this, Kim Dokja can’t see even a hint of his face, but he knows that there is only open honesty to be found in those beautiful eyes.
To match the steady but thoroughly, entirely, wholly self-serving rocking of Kim Dokja’s hips, Yoo Joonghyuk flexes a little strength to push his cock deeper and deeper. His embrace is so tight, it’s as if it would kill him to let go. His skin is a furnace against Kim Dokja, warmth with nowhere to go but out.
A large, calloused hand finds its way to the back of Kim Dokja’s neck to hold it desperately, making his spine curl impossibly more. Terribly pleased, he clenches down in as best a semi-regular pattern that his muscles struggle to obey.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” he whispers, even if he has no need to be quiet. It just seems wrong to be loud when they’re like this, as if they’re sharing a secret between their bodies. “Joonghyuk-ah, it’s so good.”
Yoo Joonghyuk says nothing. His hand slides away from his nape, a small loss, and down Kim Dokja’s arched spine in a comforting stroke, before he settles a large palm against his tailbone.
“Just look at you go,” Yoo Joonghyuk mumbles. It’s not something Kim Dokja has ever expected from him, the easy praise that slips from his mouth in moments like this. To him, Yoo Joonghyuk had only been infuriated, suspicious, bewildered. It only makes it more special when he gentles his eyes and reaches out, revealing a gaping pit in his gaze that fills, day by day, with the reflection in his irises of Kim Dokja looking back at him.
Kim Dokja bites his lip, rolls his hips down again. He's beginning to think he’ll never get used to the way Yoo Joonghyuk’s dick reaches so far into him. It borders on painful, certainly uncomfortable, but he likes the way it hurts. A little like being stabbed, that kind of invasive, intruding feeling, but in a satisfying way. It feels a little like being alive.
He loves it so much, the visceral pleasure; the thick, aching stretch, making him work for it. His clit rubbing against Yoo Joonghyuk’s abdomen whenever he circled his hips; Yoo Joonghyuk’s thumbs rubbing against his hips and massaging; just thinking of how he must look, so needy all the time.
If Kim Dokja has to describe sex, he’d say it’s like filling a hole he never realised was empty. It just feels right, like this is what his body was made for. To work, to protect, to fight and survive, and once all that’s over, to lay down and let Yoo Joonghyuk take over that space inside himself. Or maybe something more eloquent—whatever, he can’t really think about fancy words in a time like this.
Kim Dokja’s thighs ache as he starts to pick up the speed, forcing him to take short breaks between the bouts of rapid bouncing, his calves threatening to cramp on him. He scowls unhappily at this body’s lack of durability, despite all the coins he’s thrown at it.
“Too much work?” Yoo Joonghyuk mocks upon noticing his plight, raising his eyebrows. “Too used to laying back and letting me do the heavy lifting?”
“As if,” Kim Dokja huffs, chest heaving for breath.
Even as he says it, he continues fumbling around, trying to keep up a moderate pace that was enjoyable enough for him, but slow enough to not tire, and fast enough to keep up the frenzy all at once. Damn, how did Yoo Joonghyuk sit up and fuck him without having to roll off to pass out every few minutes? Granted, he did go straight to sleep afterwards…
Finally having enough, Kim Dokja pulls off Yoo Joonghyuk’s dick—trying not to think about how it takes him a few seconds to stop bearing down on thin air, like his body is confused and protesting the change—and sinks onto Yoo Joonghyuk’s thighs, defeated. He gives up. It’s simply way too tiring being on top like this. How the hell do people in books ride for so long? Kim Dokja barely lasted five minutes, and that’s even with all the muscle he’s built during the scenarios! He’s already sore, and he still hasn’t come yet.
Kim Dokja groans loudly, before finally shoving himself away to look at Yoo Joonghyuk’s stupidly smug face. Upon seeing something in his expression, Yoo Joonghyuk quickly loses the smirk.
“I can just get up, if you can’t handle it,” he says placatingly. A hand brushes over Kim Dokja’s face, and he leans into it even as he frowns.
“Why do you always have to phrase things like an insult?”
Yoo Joonghyuk raises one, singular eyebrow. It’s kinda hot. Absently, Kim Dokja considers him through half-lidded eyes. “What?”
“If you can’t handle it—” He mimics in a purposefully high pitched voice, making Yoo Joonghyuk nearly roll his eyes, “Of course I can.”
As per usual, the guy ignores him completely. “Do you want me to do it for you?”
Though he is kind of considering it, Kim Dokja still shakes his head.
Earlier, Yoo Joonghyuk had been training with his master and came back limping, absolutely worn out. Even now, he’s still wincing when he thought Kim Dokja wouldn’t notice. Muscles sore, sweating, overheated. If Kim Dokja had it his way, Yoo Joonghyuk would be in bed asleep. Unfortunately, that guy seemed to have had other priorities.
He’d stumbled through the bedroom door, still breathless from straining himself, and found Kim Dokja idling away on his phone.
“Hello?” he’d said, a little confused by the dark, intense gaze being levelled on him. A chill of foreboding had crept over his spine, but like the idiot he was, he’d ignored it.
Within seconds, Yoo Joonghyuk had pounced on him. He didn’t even say hello back, the brute.
In the present, Kim Dokja furrows his eyebrows. “You’ll just hurt yourself even more,” he reminds him. Even if Yoo Joonghyuk is strong, part of Kim Dokja is still unwilling to let him strain himself too much. He only gave in this time because Yoo Joonghyuk looked so pitiful when he’d stumbled in.
Unsure of what to do, Kim Dokja sighs. He supposes he can just suck Yoo Joonghyuk off…
In fact—though he’ll kill before letting Yoo Joonghyuk find this out—something about the heavy weight in his mouth, the all-encompassing sensation of letting Yoo Joonghyuk take the lead… the taste of skin, a bitterness, something that could only be described as sex… breathlessness, the strange sense of control even when giving in… well. There’s a reason why he always huffs and groans, but sinks to his knees the second the opportunity arises. It, shockingly, isn’t as bad as he’d initially expected. Kim Dokja is potentially, maybe okay with doing it again.
If someone really wants to read into it, they might even, perhaps, believe that Kim Dokja enjoys it. And, you know, it’s not that they would be correct in that assumption, but they would also not be… entirely incorrect either.
But again, that’s something that Yoo Joonghyuk usually takes over for. Kim Dokja is always just along for the ride. Right now, it won’t be as satisfying for either of them if Kim Dokja, inexperienced as he still is, has to take charge. Besides, what would the point even be if Kim Dokja can’t just sit there and let him do the work…? Isn’t that half the fun? No, there has to be something else.
Yoo Joonghyuk seems to arrive at the same conclusion. He tilts his head down and looks consideringly at Kim Dokja’s pussy, like it’s hiding the secrets of their predicament.
“You can touch yourself,” he offers, ever the unabashed voyeur. “I’ll watch.”
“Then, how are you going to get off?”
For all his generous concern, Yoo Joonghyuk looks at him like it should have been blatantly obvious. “I’ll touch myself too.”
It was a tempting offer. Kim Dokja loves how Yoo Joonghyuk looks when he jerks off. He spreads his thighs like a king on his throne, his grip tight. He’s always so frantic and hurried, like it’ll be the end of the world if he doesn’t come. In WOS, there had been so few scenes about Yoo Joonghyuk having sex, but there were also a couple, equally few chapters where he masturbated on his own. It was never the focus of the story, usually just some kind of filler in the middle of the lengthy chapters tls123 would churn out daily.
Kim Dokja vividly remembers the first time a raunchy scene like that showed up in TWSA. Coincidentally, he also remembers reading it in curiosity, and then rereading it in awe, and then rereading it in hunger. Glancing at the door, listening for anybody nearby, and then sneaking a hand down his pants. It always felt like some kind of depraved sin, getting off on a fictional man jerking off in a muddy sleeping roll.
Still, Kim Dokja couldn’t help it. He liked thinking about it. A man, ruggedly handsome, muscles coiled and stiff with tension, a little dirty from his travels, sweaty from a long, stressful day. In those days, the internet was treacherous and unmonitored— Kim Dokja didn't have a clear image of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, but he knew what a dick looked like. He’d been horrified when he saw those pictures, but thinking about it in that context, with Yoo Joonghyuk, was somehow different. Hot and slick, like somebody writhing on the bed in the dead of night.
He didn’t have a cock himself, but Yoo Joonghyuk did, and Kim Dokja especially liked thinking about that. Reading, rereading, rereading. On purpose, Kim Dokja would put off on reaching the part where the protagonist climaxed until he could feel his own orgasm, wanting to come at the same time as the fictional Yoo Joonghyuk did.
An idea slowly forms in his mind, a mix of wanting Yoo Joonghyuk to touch himself, and wanting him to touch Kim Dokja at the same time.
Kim Dokja’s breath stutters in his chest for a moment, overcome by the idea. His whole body thrums to life, his blood pumping hard with arousal.
“What if you—” He tries to keep his breathing steady, “rubbed my clit with your cock?”
Yoo Joonghyuk closes his eyes with a pained expression, sounding like he’s been punched. The voice he lets out sounds like a balloon losing air, as if his chest has been punctured. “Yes.”
Kim Dokja chuckles, excited at the reaction. He scoots up Yoo Joonghyuk’s body, strategically placing himself so that the length of Yoo Joonghyuk’s dick is against his clit, and kisses him.
He says, “Come on, that’s hot, right?” Because it absolutely is. Yoo Joonghyuk would have to be a fool to deny that it’s sexy to think about.
In between trailing kisses, Yoo Joonghyuk reaches down between them and tugs his cock free from under Kim Dokja with a grunt.
“You do it to yourself,” he commands, looking every bit as regal and proud as a king on his throne.
“How would you get off?” Kim Dokja asks again, raising his eyebrows.
Yoo Joonghyuk frowns at him for even daring to question him. “By watching.”
Unable to help himself, Kim Dokja barks out a laugh as he leaned his hands back against strong, muscled legs. Automatically, his thighs spread to make room for Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock to be placed against his pussy.
“...I really can't tell if you're a voyeur, or just a pervert,” he snarks.
Yoo Joonghyuk defends himself against exactly neither of the accusations. Kim Dokja already knows it's the second, though.
Instead, he sits up slowly, stiff in a way that betrays his pain. For a second, Kim Dokja falters, wanting to reach out and help him. But as his hand stretches out to smooth against Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest, the other shakes him off.
Kim Dokja feels the brief sting of rejection, but it’s smothered by humid air around them. They’re past that kind of thing—Kim Dokja knows Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t mean it like that.
“You know, sex without a condom is so much better,” he says absentmindedly. “I can really feel it.”
“You can?”
“Yeah.” Yoo Joonghyuk holds onto his thighs, watching him intently. “I heard that it feels better with the foreskin though, so…”
At this, Yoo Joonghyuk gives Kim Dokja a look. He says, sounding mildly offended, “It’s not like I can go back in time and undo it.”
His subtle scowl is so adorable that Kim Dokja laughs, pinching his cheek fondly. “I know. Haha, you’re so good, Joonghyuk-ie, getting circumcised like a good boy.”
It was never actually mentioned in Ways of Survival that Yoo Joonghyuk ever got the big snip, so Kim Dokja never knew until he saw his dick in real life. Come to think about it, though innocuous, such a detail could have been mentioned at least once during the sex scenes and yet it wasn’t. What else was the author holding out on?
With a huff, his hand is pushed away.
Kim Dokja turns his attention back to Yoo Joonghyuk’s—very clean, very nicely circumcised—dick and takes it into his hand. As if excited by his touch, it twitches ever so slightly in greeting. He drags a finger along the length of it as a reply, feeling the satin hardness, the pulsating heat.
“The size makes up for it,” Kim Dokja adds, not even needing to look at Yoo Joonghyuk to see the way that comment feeds his ego. “Are you sure I can’t blow you? It’ll be quick…”
Almost instinctively, Yoo Joonghyuk’s hips buck up towards Kim Dokja’s head. But then he rolls his head back, eyes screwing shut. He practically grits out, “We don’t have much time for that.”
Yoo Joonghyuk likes a slow, dragging blowjob, one where Kim Dokja is only able to sit there and stretch his jaw. With the imminent interruption of one of the others—or god forbid, Namgung Minyoung—they simply can’t risk it.
Kim Dokja glances at the door and wishes it could be permanently sealed. In the end, he has no choice but to relent.
Returning to the task at hand…
“How… exactly are we going to do this?” he mumbles to himself. Just—grab the dick and rub it on himself? Grind on it? Fuck, this is why Yoo Joonghyuk did all the creative stuff in the bedroom.
When he glances back up, Yoo Joonghyuk is watching him from under the heavy drop of his eyelashes, his jaw still tilted up.
Suddenly shy under that heavy gaze, Kim Dokja says, “What?”
Yoo Joonghyuk leans back down and wraps his arms back around Kim Dokja’s back, pulling him in close. An absent kiss on his neck makes him close his eyes briefly, distracted from his thoughts. Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath whispers against his skin, tickling him. Tugging with his teeth, a sharp nip falls upon Kim Dokja’s collarbones. Kim Dokja reaches blindly with a trembling hand to hold the back of Yoo Joonghyuk’s head, keeping him there against his neck, silently seeking more.
Without even realizing, he’s started rocking forwards and backwards, Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock tucked between his inner legs. Problem solved, he thinks. Thigh fucking wasn’t exactly the plan, but it’s a good enough alternative. He clenches his legs together, and Yoo Joonghyuk groans, sending shivers down his spine.
Already, his knees hurt from being pressed so hard into the hard mattress. But Kim Dokja likes it, the soreness.
“Joonghyuk,” he breathes when Yoo Joonghyuk’s hips start rising and falling with him, matching his grinding circles to hump faster, more efficiently. “You—ah, you—”
Fuck talking. Too much focus needed.
Kim Dokja inhales deeply, pleasure warm in his stomach, warm in his chest, his eyes, his throat. He drops his head and holds tight to Yoo Joonghyuk, wanting to be closer and closer with every thrust of their bodies. He wants to be suffocated in this man, surrounded with no escape.
“Like this,” Yoo Joonghyuk murmurs lowly. “It’s good.”
A hum falls from Kim Dokja’s mouth, the end trailing off and twisting itself into a moan. "No more stomach cramps. Mm, yeah.”
Yoo Joonghyuk huffs, hiding away behind Kim Dokja’s ear. “...I apologized for that already. It’s not my fault regardless.”
Smiling, Kim Dokja finds the courage to admit, “It’s fine. I come back for more anyways.”
Tilting his head to the side, he peppers kisses along Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw. Pulls back a little, as much as Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms will allow, and snakes a clammy palm up to turn that handsome, intense expression back to him. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes are unfocused, unseeing as Kim Dokja seeks out his lips.
Kissing always seems to make everything more intense. Warning alarms for his orgasm start to sound in Kim Dokja’s head underneath the slick noises and heavy breathing, but he pushes on bravely.
Yoo Joonghyuk kisses him so fiercely, holds him so tightly, grinds against him so firmly that Kim Dokja can barely breathe. His eyes keep falling shut and his mouth is open, every muscle lax. The air between them is so scarce that kissing quickly becomes a struggle, but Yoo Joonghyuk won’t let him escape for long enough to fill his lungs. His head spins with every second, dizzy and quietly thrilling.
“Please,” Kim Dokja mumbles, an overly-eager noise wanting to break out between each gasp of air. The world around them is rich and heavy of sex; of sweat, and the very distinct scent of… well, naked bodies. Kind of. “Joonghyuk-ah, please.”
“Wait, just—” Yoo Joonghyuk can’t even compose himself to finish the sentence. Part of Kim Dokja that isn’t filled with consuming, rapid need is proud to have brought him down to this state. The rest of him thinks, please, please, please.
So close, so close, so close— A bright flash of something, everything suddenly building up, Kim Dokja whimpering desperately against Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips—and then he slams right into his orgasm with a loud, sharp gasp.
His hips start to stutter, fracturing his rhythm into frantic jerks. Kim Dokja focuses on the wave of sensation that rolls through him, waiting helplessly for it to fade.
Finally, he feels the crushing pleasure relent. Suddenly tired, he leans heavily on Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder, trusting him with his weight as he takes in deep breaths, hot and tingly in all the right places. Kim Dokja doesn’t know when he moved his head to Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck, but he lays there anyway.
The stimulation is starting to hurt a little, bordering on an empty numbness, but Yoo Joonghyuk had yet to finish, so Kim Dokja can only close his eyes and deal with it.
As if on cue, Yoo Joonghyuk lets out an inaudible, tiny moan that sends static up his spine, and suddenly the slick mess between their thighs is tenfold. The desperate grip of his fingers tightens brutally as he rides his orgasm out against Kim Dokja’s body, thrusting up and chasing it. Absently, Kim Dokja feels a sense of loss that Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t even tried to angle for finishing inside. So much wasted… but he supposes there’s always next time.
Kim Dokja, now calm, kisses Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck and leaves small, loving marks to wind him down, listening to each stuttering inhale.
“Hm?” he asks, too tired to make a sentence. Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms, which had fallen slack, tighten as an answer.
It’s disgustingly sticky. It would be entirely unhygienic if they just leave everything where it is and take a three-day nap together. Not to mention how everyone else might walk in and find them like this, pants down and strings of cum between them. But wow, it’s so tempting. It just seems like so much effort. Can’t they just take a small break and rest?
Unfortunately, Yoo Joonghyuk decides to be dependable and quickly starts sitting up. Kim Dokja groans and wrestles him back down for a few more seconds. Seeing how he goes down without a fight, the will to curl up and sleep is definitely shared.
The cooling tackiness of cum streaked on his thighs is both gross and satisfying. Awful texture, but there's something sensual about being dirty like this, the inescapable proof of sex smeared all over him.
After a moment, Midday Tryst pings. Kim Dokja pinches Yoo Joonghyuk so that he shuts up with his responsible-adult bullshit. (For the record, between the both of them, Kim Dokja is definitely the more responsible.)
A few more notifications, the chime of each getting progressively more irritating. Miffed, Kim Dokja finally cracks one eye open.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: They’re not going to be outside for that long.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Biyoo doesn’t sleep for long.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Kim Dokja. We need to get up.
—Kim Dokja: Joonghyuk-ah, come on…
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Don’t act like a child.
The nerve… Kim Dokja bites the closest limb (a shoulder) in retaliation.
In response, Yoo Joonghyuk viciously pinches his side. He startles, abruptly torn out of his dozing mood.
“Asshole,” he grouses, immediately irritated. “What was that for?”
Yoo Joonghyuk finally sits up properly, gingerly and slow, and looks at him with a stern air, as though about to pinch him a second time. He doesn’t even grant him an answer, just takes Kim Dokja’s hand with him to stand up and find their lost clothing.
His first mission is producing a rag out of nowhere and brusquely wiping down Kim Dokja's thighs. He's clinical with it, but it gets the job done. The rag is quickly stuffed away once Kim Dokja is deemed sufficiently clean, and he watches it disappear into some unseen pocket of Yoo Joonghyuk's coat. Again, that strange, twisted sense of loss. All that waste, and for what? Isn't it objectively better to just finish inside? Sure, it trickles out after a few moments anyway, but at least some of it... some of it can be kept safe inside.
To himself, Kim Dokja murmurs, “Looks like somebody’s feeling better already.”
He thinks it goes unheard until Yoo Joonghyuk turns back around and pinches him again, using a hint of nail that Kim Dokja swears makes his eyes burn. “Hey—!”
He’s cut off midway by a sudden, unexpected kiss that steals the strength from his knees. Like some kind of romance protagonist, Yoo Joonghyuk has Kim Dokja leaning backwards on one arm, fisting his hair with the other hand. Kim Dokja immediately melts, goes loose and limp, unsure exactly of where his hands are nor what his name is as he's kissed with fervour.
Is this an apt time to remember that neither of them are fully clothed yet?
“We are not—getting back into bed,” Kim Dokja warns between gasping breaths and stolen kisses. “No way.”
Yoo Joonghyuk says, “I know,” and then continues to kiss Kim Dokja like he’s trying to make him change his mind. (It almost works. Kind of. Kim Dokja wasn’t aware that he could have been more wet than he was previously, however, he was starting to feel dehydrated.)
When they finally separate—after a long moment of acting like they were about to jump right back into bed—and get their clothes on, Kim Dokja straightens up with a small grunt, feeling the odd aching sensation of his nether regions.
“I’m kind of hurting,” he decides to announce to the room. “And everything is gross and sticky, and—”
“We need to bathe,” Yoo Joonghyuk finishes for him.
Somehow, even with the previous soreness and exhaustion from getting thrown around a field in the name of ‘training’ with his master, he stands tall and straight. Kim Dokja looks him up and down, noting his creased turtleneck and misaligned belts.
He steps closer to fix them properly, sliding the buckle of his chest belt so that it’s at the front. “What are you suggesting? We can’t use the river.”
Yoo Joonghyuk stands patiently as Kim Dokja fusses over his clothes, looking down at him with a gaze heavy enough that it was near tangible. “Why not? The river isn’t privately owned.”
Flattening out a crease with his hands, Kim Dokja says, ignoring the sudden urge to be bashful, “Well… we have to pass by the training grounds to go around to the river, right? Since it’s by the back of the building?”
“So?”
“So, they’ll see us,” Kim Dokja says, face heating up slightly at the mere idea of somebody realizing exactly what they’ve been up to. “And they’re probably coming into the dorms again soon, so we’ll definitely pass them.”
Yoo Joonghyuk shrugs like it doesn’t really matter to him. “They won’t know.”
Kim Dokja groans, “But what if they do? That’s so… embarrassing, Yoo Joonghyuk. Is it not weird that your teacher might look at you and know what you were doing? Won’t she be mad?”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression darkens visibly. For once, he looks unsure on what to do. “That…”
“See?” Kim Dokja steps away from Yoo Joonghyuk’s neatened attire and works on smoothing his own hair down. “We can’t.”
“We can wait for them to go past,” comes the suggestion.
Kim Dokja does not at all appreciate the comedic timing of the thundering, booming footsteps that can suddenly be heard in the distance, coming their way. They both jump in the air and share startled looks. Judging by the heavy, booming weight of them, it’s definitely Namgung Minyoung.
Unfortunately, she’s also calling out, “Can you really be my disciple if a little bit of training is enough to scare you away? Come out! You have much to learn if you want to beat the children of Murim.”
Looking at Yoo Joonghyuk’s face… the guy looks so horrified to find his teacher seeking him out, Kim Dokja almost feels bad for him. Almost.
“Yoo Joonghyuk, did you really…?”
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Stay quiet, fool! Do you want to tell her where we are?!
—Kim Dokja: It wasn’t even that loud…
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Shut up if you don’t want her to find us, like you were so scared about.
—Kim Dokja: Excuse me? Who exactly is scared?
—Kim Dokja: And look at you, hiding from your teacher like this. You don’t want to train anymore, is that it?
—Kim Dokja: Wow, did you actually slack off? I thought she willingly gave you a break.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: She did. I just extended it according to my own needs.
—Kim Dokja: Was it a need to get your dick wet?
—Kim Dokja: Why, I ought to rat you out right here.
He won’t, of course. No doubt she’lll be just as unimpressed with the both of them, and Kim Dokja doesn’t have the merciful buffer of being a disciple.
“When the teacher is calling, the student should reply immediately!”
—Kim Dokja: You are so dead.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Do you really think you will be spared too?
—Kim Dokja: Are we going to die? Is she going to make us both start training as punishment? What is she going to say about desecrating the dorms?
—Kim Dokja: This is all your fault!
—Yoo Joonghyuk: My fault? You were rubbing against me, how am I at fault?
—Kim Dokja: You should have kept your dick under wraps, obviously.
—Kim Dokja: Maybe she’ll give up.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Maybe you’ll drop dead waiting for that to happen.
—Kim Dokja: Maybe your dick will drop off after I ban having sex in this kind of situation.
—Kim Dokja: Oh, I see. Didn’t like that threat, did we? You’re so… dickbrained.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Between the two of us, you think more about my dick than I do.
—Kim Dokja: How about I ban sex completely, Yoo Joonghyuk?
—Kim Dokja: Also, you are infinitely worse than me, so shut up.
Yoo Joonghyuk is not at all paying attention. Instead, he’s watching the door like it’s going to tell him where exactly Namgung Minyoung is, now that she’s gone quiet in her hunt. Unfortunately, the block of wood keeps its secrets, so Yoo Joonghyuk scowls at it.
Of course this guy can get mad at a door, of all things, Kim Dokja thinks.
He watches Yoo Joonghyuk frown in deep contemplation, and is abruptly brought out of his thoughts to, without any warning, stare at the man in front of him.
Obviously, Yoo Joonghyuk is beautiful. It wouldn’t take a man with half an eyeball to see that much, and Kim Dokja, thankfully, has two whole eyes to look with. If it isn’t the broad, firm stature, then it’s the carved, gorgeous face, or at least the striking eyes, and if not that, then it’s the air around Yoo Joonghyuk that seems to drip with allure and perfection.
The idea of someone so good looking had been inconceivable to Kim Dokja before the apocalypse. Sure, other people are pretty, and hot, but Yoo Joonghyuk is… he’s impossibly handsome. A transcendent in every aspect, including his physical appearance.
Kim Dokja feels a wistful sigh building up in his chest. It isn’t just the good looks that he likes about Yoo Joonghyuk. Before? Maybe. But after getting to know him personally, Yoo Joonghyuk’s cold, standoffish personality is no longer a ‘What a waste of a good face…’ situation.
Admiration versus love. How can you tell the difference?
To admire someone is to like someone despite their flaws. You think that person is amazing, but, you know, they could work on this… what a shame, but it’s fine. You admire them but not the worst parts of them.
When you love someone, it is not despite their flaws, or disregarding their faults. You love wholly; flaws, perfection, everything. You love someone, and that is that. No if or but. Acknowledging things they need to work on is a must, but you cannot love someone if you do not take those flaws as a part of them. People can work on their issues, so you love them for it, even if it does irk you. In love, you can’t pick and choose parts of a person. You love all of them, even the diseased, rotten parts of them.
And Kim Dokja loves Yoo Joonghyuk. That irritating, prideful personality is no longer a hindrance to him. In fact, it’s even kind of endearing. Yoo Joonghyuk really isn’t so bad of a person after he spends time with him, away from a phone screen and that typed story.
He isn’t nice, but he is kind. When he speaks, it's sometimes misunderstood to be condescending, while he’s actually just assured in his abilities and that of others. (And maybe a little bit condescending.) Yoo Joonghyuk is undeniably proud, but really, who wouldn’t be if they were him? He can banter, he can joke, and he can be sweet.
If someone could swoon without moving a muscle, Kim Dokja would be doing so. He adores Yoo Joonghyuk so much that he wants to kiss his cheek and see him smile. He likes him so much he wanted to tear open his own chest to let him have whatever is inside.
Finally, the protagonist acknowledges the Midday Tryst messages and snaps back immediately.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: Banning sex is going to be worse for you than me, Kim Dokja. Do you want to test that out?
—Yoo Joonghyuk: She’s stopped calling now. We should still wait for a while to make sure she’s gone.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: You should think of an excuse to give her in the meantime. It would be good to use that swindler brain for useful things, finally.
Maybe he’s expecting some more banter. Unfortunately Kim Dokja is now in a very syrupy, sweet mood.
Very, very unfortunately. For both of them.
—Kim Dokja: I love talking to you so much, did you know that?
—Kim Dokja: You don’t look it, but you’re a lot of fun. You seem dumb but you’re unexpectedly intelligent. And you’re sometimes funny. Rarely, though.
—Kim Dokja: It’s good. I like it when you talk to say something that isn’t an insult or about a task. It’s usually quite interesting. You think about a lot of things in that big head, don’t you?
—Kim Dokja: You have a nice voice too, did you know? It’s good. It’s all good. You do have a somewhat flat cadence, but your voice is good enough to ignore that.
—Kim Dokja: I like it.
After a few seconds, he blinks and is brought out of his trance.
Silence from the bastard is the only answer after Kim Dokja basically spilled his heart out so nicely for him. Embarrassment burns in his cheeks like fire, and he takes a step away from Yoo Joonghyuk, turning away to hide it.
In the awkward quiet, he clears his throat. Right, what was I thinking? Of all the times to be lovey-dovey…
—Kim Dokja: Haha, anyways, I think she might be gone now. Good timing, right? We should probably get going now…
Nothing.
—Kim Dokja: Yoo Joonghyuk, please, say something.
—Yoo Joonghyuk: If she’s gone, then we no longer need to worry about getting caught.
There’s a clinking metal sound that makes Kim Dokja look behind himself.
—Kim Dokja: Why are you unfastening your belt?
“Hello, you little thing,” Kim Dokja whispers softly as Biyoo floats into the dormitory, her little eyes drooping. “Come here.”
She bleeps at him sleepily and comes zooming over to tuck herself under his chin. Kim Dokja lifts one hand out of the warm bed covers to hold her in place as he kisses her.
“You just woke up, right?” Kim Dokja asks. She baa-at’s him in affirmation, and he nuzzles her fur one more time. “I’m sorry, Biyoo, do you want to start streaming? It’s okay, you can.”
He isn’t too bothered by the idea of the constellations seeing him like this, all fucked-out and tired. Seeing as Yoo Joonghyuk is getting his ass beat on the training fields again, there isn’t a guarantee that the constellations will even know what had just happened to him.
Biyoo chirps at him again, and then the channel turns on. There’s the usual onslaught of constellations looking around and sending messages. Nothing seemed amiss at first, not even Uriel finds anything suspicious about Kim Dokja laying in bed. Someone has the nerve to call him lazy for lounging about when the others are all working hard, but he ignores them. If only they knew just how hard Kim Dokja was working when the channel turned off.
[ The constellation, Secretive Plotter, is staring at you intently. ]
[ The constellation, Secretive Plotter, has sponsored you 2000 coins. ]
[ The constellation, Secretive Plotter, tentatively asks if you’ve been sharing a room with someone recently. ]
Kim Dokja wryly answers, “The dormitories are shared, so I guess I have.”
[ The constellation, Secretive Plotter, is mildly disturbed by your answer. ]
[ Some constellations wonder why a shared dormitory is suddenly so controversial. ]
A loud bang from outside makes Kim Dokja contemplate getting up to check Yoo Joonghyuk, just to make sure he isn’t actively being mauled. After a moment’s deliberation he decides against it.
Yoo Joonghyuk is a strong enough guy. He’ll be fine. Probably.