Chapter Text
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Rain slipped down from the heavy clouds. The crisp sound of raindrops echoed along the pavement, devoid of any people. The neon storefront lights were made hazy by the blanket of water obstructing their glow. Yoo Jonghyuk tightened his grip on the handle of Han Sooyoung’s umbrella as he stared at the figure shivering under the bridge.
It was the first time he’s seen Kim Dokja in too long, and Yoo Jonghyuk took a moment to compose himself. He didn’t take too long though, he’s been waiting for this long enough. Stepping forward unsteadily, his footsteps echoed painfully loudly in his ears, the sound only rivaled by his racing heart as he made his way to the one he wanted to see the most. Stopping just a few steps away, he stood there in silence until the young boy raised his head from where he was reading on his phone. Another novel, Yoo Jonghyuk assumed. A wave of fondness crashed over him. Han Sooyoung was right, their reader never really does change; not that he would ever admit that to her, she would just let it inflate her ego.
“Y-Yoo Jonghyuk?” Wet drops clung to those lashes, framing the eyes wide with shock. Yoo Jonghyuk watched as one slipped off, trailing down the bridge of the red tipped nose. “You got a haircut—wait, no, you should be in the hospital right now!”
Kim Dokja scrambled up, accidentally stepping on the empty food container next to him. Yoo Jonghyuk immediately noticed that it was from the hospital, and his heart ached at the implication. His anger at the way Kim Dokja was treated boiled even hotter, and his emotions must have shown on his face because Kim Dokja flinched, curling into himself to appear smaller. Yoo Jonghyuk quickly schooled his expression back to neutral.
“I was aware of what was happening around me the entire time,” Yoo Jonghyuk said without preamble. Kim Dokja stiffened. “I asked the hospital who the volunteer was an—”
“I’m sorry,” Kim Dokja blurted out, hands clenched tightly on the hem of his shirt. It was torn a little, Yoo Jonghyuk observed. They would need to get new ones. “I—It must have been awful. To hear me. I, um, I’m sure you didn’t want to hear all about the harem of beau—”
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Jonghyuk interrupted, as gently as he could. The way Kim Dokja looked at him right now reminded him of a spooked animal, one that would run away at any sign of danger, never to be seen again. That wouldn’t happen. Yoo Jonghyuk never planned to let his companion go ever again. “Thank you.”
Kim Dokja’s jaw dropped at the expressed gratitude. “M-me? You’re thanking me? But, why ?”
Yoo Jonghyuk felt nothing but sadness at his companion’s bewildered expression. He always knew that Kim Dokja had a low self esteem, but he didn’t think it was this bad. No matter, he thought to himself. They had time to fix this, and the idea of that filled him with exhilaration. They would change this timeline, and Kim Dokja would grow up loved and cherished. Yoo Jonghyuk would make sure of it. But for now, they would start small.
“I was trapped in my body, completely aware of what was happening around me, but with no way to move even a single muscle.” Yoo Jonghyuk let honesty trail from his lips. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes as before. “Your voice helped me stay sane.”
“R-really?”
“Yes.” Then Yoo Jonghyuk frowned a bit and said, “Kim Dokja, what are you doing here?”
Kim Dokja’s eyes slid away, and he shifted uncomfortably. Yoo Jonghyuk only sighed lightly at the aversion, swallowing the questions that rose up in his throat. There would be time for that later, but for now, the first priority was getting Kim Dokja somewhere warm and feeding him some actual food. Yoo Jonghyuk glared at the plastic food container by Kim Dokja’s foot like it was the source of all his problems. He said, “Do you need a place to stay?”
Kim Dokja looked like he was about to refuse, his face full of hesitation, but he bit his lip and looked down instead of refusing the offer immediately. That was a good sign. Yoo Jonghyuk watched him silently, waiting for an answer without pushing him to make his decision. He knew that if he interrupted whatever convoluted thing was running through his mind right now, Kim Dokja would immediately turn him down and run away. He just stepped a little closer, making sure to telegraph his movements clearly, so that he could cover Kim Dokja with the umbrella and shield him from some of the rain.
“...O-Okay.”
If it were anyone else, they would have missed the quiet whisper, so easily drowned out by the pitter patter of the rain. But this was Yoo Jonghyuk, someone who was attuned to Kim Dokja and all his mannerisms.
“Let’s go,” Yoo Jonghyuk said, offering his hand out, which Kim Dokja lightly grasped in a tentative grip. Yoo Jonghyuk sucked in a breath at the sight of that delicate hand covered by his larger, scarred ones. He dared not grip too tightly, scared that he would break this fragile connection between them, but as they walked, not even the cold rain could permeate the warmth radiating from the boy beside him.
Two shadows stretched out from behind them, merging into one as they walked down the rainy streets of Seoul.
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About halfway through, Kim Dokja panicked. He changed his mind and tried to run away. Only after much hemming and hawing, and dealing with the mumbled excuses about how ‘improper that was’ and how ‘he didn’t want to be a bother’ and all the comments about how ‘it was fine, really’, Yoo Jonghyuk managed to wrangle the boy into his apartment with a patience he didn’t even know he had. But, looking fondly at Kim Dokja’s wide eyes darting back and forth, then focusing blankly at the floor to ceiling windows that provided an expensive view overlooking the city, Yoo Jonghyuk decided that it was worth it.
“This… this is a really nice apartment,” Kim Dokja said. Yoo Jonghyuk watched as he hesitantly removed his shoes and padded gently across the wooden floor, each step placed carefully, toes curling slightly in the chill. Yoo Jonghyuk added carpets to the mental list of things that he needed to buy.
“Go take a shower,” Yoo Jonghyuk said. “Everything you need should be in the bathroom.” He eyed the frayed hem of Kim Dokja’s school uniform distastefully as he walked away. That needs to be rectified immediately. Yoo Jonghyuk’s mind raced with other things that he needed to make Han Sooyoung do while preparing the ingredients for their meal. The sizzling sounds of the pan filled the pristine kitchen, and Yoo Jonghyuk fell into a rhythm that was interrupted by a very faint call. Yoo Jonghyuk tensed, and sprinted towards the bathroom where Kim Dokja was. Holding his spoon tightly in one hand, he was about to rip the door open when it unlocked and a small crack opened, releasing some steam. Half of Kim Dokja’s face showed as he peeked through the opening he made.
“U-um. What do I do with my clothes? I don’t really want to wear them again because they’re still wet...”
Yoo Jonghyuk tried to calm his racing heart. There were no scenarios in this world, he reminded himself. Only amateur bullies and greedy relatives and some others that could all be easily dealt with. No constellations. No Star Stream. Kim Dokja eyed the wooden spoon he had a white knuckled grip on. “Are you… okay?”
“Fine,” Yoo Jonghyuk said stiffly. He examined Kim Dokja for any signs of distress just in case, because you never knew what he could be hiding under a smirking facade. What he saw instead was the red flush on those chubby cheeks. The damp hair, sticking up everywhere from how he simply ran a towel haphazardly in an attempt to dry it. The water droplet that trailed down his neck to pool in his protruding collarbone—
“You’re too skinny,” Yoo Jonghyuk admonished gently, eyes still glued to those sharp collarbones. “You need to eat more. I’m almost done cooking, come out when you’re finished.”
Kim Dokja fidgeted slightly, the door creaking with the movement. “But, my clothes?”
Right. He was naked behind that door. “I’m sure I have some older clothes that don’t fit me,” he lied easily. All his clothes were new, courtesy of Han Sooyoung, but he was sure that his companion would have had some sort of allergic reaction at the thought of wearing something brand new. He noticed the goosebumps forming on Kim Dokja’s forearms and frowned. “I’ll go find something for you right now and leave it outside.”
He returned to the kitchen and noticed a large crack running through the middle of the wooden spoon. He scowled, throwing it away in disgust. Things were just too fragile in this world line. After a few minutes, he started setting the table and Kim Dokja appeared from around the corner, uneasily adjusting his clothes.
“They’re a little big,” he mumbled, looking up at Yoo Jonghyuk shyly. “But... Thank you for letting me borrow them.”
He looked at the wide eyes of his companion, rounded with youth and naivety. The plate in Yoo Jonghyuk’s hand cracked in half and fell to the floor, shattering to pieces. Kim Dokja yelped slightly in shock, dropping to his knees and moving to pick up the shards with his bare hands. Yoo Jonghyuk grabbed his wrist to stop him, and Kim Dokja flinched away from the sudden movement. They stood still for a moment, at a standstill.
“Kim Dokja. What are you doing?” Yoo Jonghyuk tried to control his emotions, but it ended up sounding like he was angry. He cursed when the tone of his voice made Kim Dokja curl into himself a bit more.
“Um, c-could you let go? It hurts…”
Yoo Jonghyuk dropped his hand like it was on fire. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want you to pick up the shards and hurt yourself.” He took another deep breath, pushing away the self blame. There would be time for that later. “Come,” he scooped Kim Dokja up, ignoring his startled shriek, and set him down gently on the couch. He stood up and went to one of the cabinets for a first aid kit. This was something he and Han Sooyoung agreed on wholeheartedly; knowing the company they spent their time with, they knew that they would need this. He crouched down in front of Kim Dokja and gently grasped his ankle to get a better look at the cuts on his leg caused by the shards rebounding off the floor.
A small finger poked the middle of his forehead. “Uh… Don’t frown, y-you might get wrinkles. It’s really not that big of a deal…”
He caught the finger before it could pull away. He looked at the small cuts oozing with blood and felt remorse wash over him like a wave. Didn’t he just promise himself that he wouldn’t harm him again? Yoo Jonghyuk looked into Kim Dokja’s eyes earnestly and said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Kim Dokja.”
“That’s a little too much just for a broken plate…”
But it wasn’t just a broken plate. He was apologizing for more than the broken glass. This apology was for every callous word, every act of violence or negligence he committed against his companion. This Kim Dokja didn’t know what he was talking about, but it would have to do for now. He would make it up to him later. And... if Kim Dokja never regained his memories, and he stayed like this, then that was fine too. Yoo Jonghyuk was just glad this Kim Dokja would never know the horrors of the Star Stream, that he would never sacrifice himself over and over again. He would make sure that Kim Dokja knew love and happiness in this life. He stayed there for a moment longer before releasing Kim Dokja’s hand and dressing his wounds. He took note of the faint, silver scars that criss crossed across his leg as did so, all traces of a hard life. His hatred for the unworthy imbeciles who dared to do this grew even more.
“There. Stay here.” Yoo Jonghyuk said, standing up. He paused. “Kim Dokja, why did you try to pick it up with your bare hands?”
Kim Dokja fidgeted slightly, eyes darting away. “Sorry, I just—it was instinct. I guess.”
He just sighed slightly, ruffling Kim Dokja’s damp hair before walking carefully towards the kitchen. As he brushed the shards away with a broom, he thought of what Dokja said. Instinct, he said. No, that wasn’t instinct. That was a lesson learned through beatings and pain. He threw the last of the debris away, making sure that there was no other residue before going back to the living room and picking Kim Dokja up again. This time, he didn’t screech, only gasping in surprise and clutching at his shirt to keep his balance.
“I can walk,” Kim Dokja pouted slightly. Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes slid over the jut of that bottom lip.
“Hm.”
“Are you going to put me down now?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Yoo Jonghyuk savoured the moment of having Kim Dokja, alive and breathing and warm , in his arms. Hopefully this would drown out the memories of holding a slack, cooling body. He set him down on the chair and went to get their dinner. He would reheat it, but Kim Dokja practically salivated at the smell of food. He would need to do better next time to make up for it.
Kim Dokja took a tentative bite, and his eyes widened almost comically when the taste registered. “This is delicious.” He started shoving the kimchi fried rice into his mouth, barely chewing.
“Slow down, no one is going to steal it from you,” Yoo Jonghyuk teased, and Kim Dokja froze, but he slowed down to chew his food. “Dokja, please don't tell me people have stolen food from you before. “
“No one has ever stolen—”
“Dokja.”
“Y-you’re the one who told me not to say it!”
Yoo Jonghyuk took deep, calming breaths. They fell into a peaceful silence after that, with Kim Dokja focused on eating his meal and Yoo Jonghyuk focused on Kim Dokja.
“So what happened to the 904th beauty?”
Kim Dokja choked on some rice, and quickly gulped down water from the glass Yoo Jonghyuk pressed into his hand. “You remember that?”
“Yes. I never got to hear what happened.”
“R-right...But that novel, um, surely it’s not what you usually read. You look like someone who would be more sophisticated than that…”
Yoo Jonghyuk hummed, a neutral response. “I still want you to tell me.”
“Oh, then, if you’re sure,” Kim Dokja checked one more time, peeking up through his lashes. At Yoo Jonghyuk’s hum, he continued: “So, the 904th beauty was trapped in the dungeon, right? Other readers thought that it was just some wife plot so that the hero could rescue her and show off his powers—and it seemed like the plot was developing towards that direction—but it was actually her character blackening arc where she realized that the hero was actually not a very good person and fell in love with the female guard in charge of her care instead and…”
As Kim Dokja continued recounting the convoluted plot of the web novel, he became less and less hesitant. He started relaxing now that he was talking about his favourite topic. Yoo Jonghyuk watched at the way he waved his hands around animatedly, annoyed at how badly the beauties in the harem were treated, but still reading every update faithfully nonetheless. The more Kim Dokja spoke, Yoo Jonghyuk realized something. In their world, Kim Dokja used every chapter of his story as a reason to live another day. But this was a parallel world line. It only makes sense that not everything was the same. Still, even knowing that, Yoo Jonghyuk felt a spark of inexplicable anger fill his chest.
“Do you like the protagonist?”
“... so they overthrew the—uh, what?”
“Do you like the protagonist of this story?”
“Well,” Kim Dokja hesitated, clearly sensing the dark aura surrounding the man sitting across from him. “I don’t hate him…”
“But do you like him? Would you make him your companion?”
“No,” Kim Dokja finally replied without hesitation. “No, I wouldn’t. He doesn’t seem like he would care much for them anyway, judging by how many women he picks up. He acts like they’re flowers he plucked from some random field! He admires them for a bit and then forgets about them. Who would want to be with such an unreliable man?”
“That’s right,” Yoo Jonghyuk said, finally relaxing his grip on the seat handles. "Who would want that for a companion," he scoffed. Kim Dokja eyed him doubtfully before continuing his summary the tales of whatever the 904th beauty and her new wife were doing. Yoo Jonghyuk let the words wash over him, soft eyes watching Kim Dokja’s young features, and nodding along when it seemed like Dokja was looking for an answer. After a while, he got up to make hot chocolate, and ushered the still babbling Kim Dokja onto the couch and gave him a fluffy blanket to curl up with. The adult Kim Dokja had never been this forthcoming with his words, so Yoo Jonghyuk cherished every moment.
He would have been happy to let him continue, but eventually Kim Dokja’s words started slowing and his grip on the cup handle slackened. Yoo Jonghyuk caught it before it fell onto the floor, and glanced at Kim Dokja’s sleeping face. He set the cup down on the side table, and scooped his sleeping companion into his arms, blanket included. Yoo Jonghyuk made his way down the hallway, careful not to jostle the precious cargo he was holding, and completely bypassed the guest bedroom. He gently placed Kim Dokja onto the large bed in his room. He stirred lightly at the movement. Yoo Jonghyuk froze, but Kim Dokja just turned over before stilling once more. Yoo Jonghyuk let out a soft breath before rearranging the blankets, making sure that Kim Dokja was situated securely under them. He brushed his finger against that soft cheek one more time before pulling away.
Yoo Jonghyuk sat down beside his sleeping companion and just breathed. He watched the way Kim Dokja’s chest rose and fell rhythmically. The way his lips parted slightly to let out puffs of breaths against the soft pillows. After a few minutes, he turned off the light and whispered, “Goodnight, Dokja.”
Yoo Jonghyuk made sure that all the doors and windows were locked and secure, before sneaking out of the bathroom window and hopping onto the fire escape. He made his way down until he reached the apartment below him. He silently pushed the window open and slipped in.
“Hey! You can’t just sneak into a girl’s bedroom, you know!” Han Sooyoung complained, lounging on her bed as she watched Yoo Jonghyuk slip in like a thief. “What if they think you’re a pervert, huh? You weren’t satisfied with just being a criminal so now you want the ‘pervert’ label too?”
Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyebrow twitched. “Why would you have your window unlocked if you didn’t want to be a target?”
Han Sooyoung raised her hands in defense, but she didn’t back away. “Woah, there. No need to get so angry, I was just joking! Anyway, with the amount of money being thrown around for one of these apartments, they better be safe. And it’s actually pretty good. Do you know how hard it was to make a fake identity for you and have it pass the background check to get one of the places here, the one right above mine nonetheless and—
“Han Sooyoung”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m done.” She looked at the open window. “Actually, wait. Can you close that? It’s cold, and my constitution is delicate. I may even get sick just from this slight breeze!”
Yoo Jonghyuk sighed in annoyance, but moved to shut the window anyway.
“Much better!” Han Sooyoung said. “So? I heard something fall and shatter. Did you guys already fight? What happened?”
“I dropped a plate.”
“You dropped a—I thought we were past this! Stop answering in short sentences, I need more than that. Start from the beginning and tell me the entire story. Don’t you dare leave out any details! Oh, but do make it quick, though. We wouldn’t want Kim Dokja waking up without you there, would we? He’ll absolutely freak out.”
“He won’t wake up.”
“Uh, what do you mean he won’t wake up?” Han Sooyoung demanded, before her eyes widened in realization. “Yoo Jonghyuk, oh my god. You did not.”
“Hm.”
Han Sooyoung stared at him. “Why would you slip sleeping pills into his food? I thought we were trying to gain his trust, not break it by drugging him!”
“Not his food,” Yoo Jonghyuk said. “I put it in his hot chocolate.”
“You put it in his—that’s not the point!” She took a few calming breaths and said, “You know what? Whatever. You clearly have a few screws loose if you’re drugging him right after meeting him for the first time.”
“He’s tried to run away before.”
“Yeah, but that was before !”
Yoo Jonghyuk gave her a dead eyed stare. “It’s Kim Dokja.”
Han Sooyoung was silent for a second. “Okay, fine, he totally would run away, given the chance,” she said, nauseous at the fact she just agreed with him. She fake vomited a few times, only stopping at Yoo Jonghyuk's unamused expression. “What a spoilsport," she muttered, rolling her eyes. She waved a hand at him. "Continue with your story, we don’t have all night. Or, wait, we might actually. What was the dosage?”
“I would start if you didn’t keep interrupting me,” Yoo Jonghyuk growled. Han Sooyoung mimed pulling a zipper shut across her mouth and throwing away the key. After shooting her another glare and making sure she would actually stay silent this time, Yoo Jonghyuk launched into his story.
After he finished, Han Sooyoung gaped at him. “You… found him under a bridge?”
“Hm.”
“Yoo Jonghyuk, do you not realize that you literally found him under a bridge like the actual rat he is? Oh my god, this is just hilarious.”
He just rolled his eyes as Han Sooyoung rolled on her carpeted bedroom floor, laughing so hard tears squeezed out her eyes. He watched her hysterics for a few more moments before saying, “I’m going back now.”
“Okay, okay,” she waved him off, wiping a stray tear away. “I’ll see you soon in a coincidental encounter that was totally not engineered, neighbour.”
Yoo Jonghyuk hopped nimbly out of the window and made his way back into his own apartment. He walked quietly to the master bedroom, and gently pushed the door open. Still asleep. He listened to the sounds of the rhythmic breathing of someone sleeping deeply. He quickly changed his clothes into softer, sleeping pajamas and slid under the blankets beside his companion.
“Sweet dreams, Dokja.”
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