Chapter Text
[Day 75]
It had been over two weeks since Kim Dokja last spoke to Yoo Joonghyuk. He made it so that he was only on campus for classes, and he never wandered in the halls like he normally did. The artist had even avoided eating at the main cafeteria where he’d most likely bump into his model, opting to eat either off-campus or forgoing food altogether. Today was such a day where he did the latter, and since the time he arrived on campus, he only had a small snack and his bottle of water.
“Can you at least eat something appropriate if you’re going to avoid your lover boy?” Han Sooyoung said as she smacked a sandwich onto Kim Dokja’s face.
“For your information, he’s not my lover boy.” Kim Dokja frowned. He eyed the sandwich carefully. Good, no tomatoes.
“He might as well be.” Han Sooyoung shrugged as she ripped away the sandwich wrapping of her own. “It’s like as if you two had a lover’s quarrel. The last time I saw Yoo Joonghyuk a few days ago, he had the darkest expression I had ever seen. I instantly knew you were the cause of it.”
“How can you be so sure that it was me?” Kim Dokja retorted, a pang of guilt hitting his heart. The flavour of his own sandwich was satiable enough to enter his stomach, overriding his turmoil of other feelings.
“Because he directly came over to me and demanded to know your whereabouts.” Han Sooyoung said between muffled bites. “You should treat me more nicely because I told him that you were super busy with your projects that were all due the following week and that you needed all the concentration you could get. He somehow respected that. How long are you going to avoid his messages, anyway?”
“How do you know that he has sent me messages?” Kim Dokja looked at her suspiciously.
“An educated guess.” Han Sooyoung spat out. “Your expression told me everything. You just gave it away.”
“I did—” his phone chimed in between, “—not.”
The two looked at his phone that was splayed against the table. Yoo Joonghyuk’s name, or rather, the nickname that the two had decided to call him behind his back, was clearly shown on the screen for a few seconds before it went dark. Han Sooyoung didn’t even need to read the message preview to know what the model typed.
“I think you should apologize and finish up your damn sessions.” Han Sooyoung stated.
“Shouldn’t he be the one apologizing?” Kim Dokja grumbled. Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly pushed him down out of nowhere.
“And you’ve probably been too ambiguous in your answer. Plus, you’ve been ignoring him. You owe him two apologies.”
“You…” Kim Dokja exasperated, “why are you peeping into my affairs anyway?”
“Because I scored a date.” Han Sooyoung triumphantly said as she puffed her chest with pride, “and seeing you being a sore loser in denial ruins my mood. He obviously likes you. Why can’t you just reciprocate him?”
“Because I don’t suit him?” Kim Dokja responded.
Han Sooyoung heaved a frustrated sigh. “Fuck,” she started as she angrily ate her sandwich, “You’re a moron.”
“If you think I’m a moron, stop trying to meddle with my life.”
“No.”
“Han Sooyoung, you—!"
[Day 76]
It was late at night, and Kim Dokja finally had the time to stop his current project to go to bed. That being said, Kim Dokja would never pass up an opportunity to read his web novels, no matter how late it was. After comfortably nestling into his covers, he rushed over to read the latest chapters that were updated for the day.
A notification popped up on his screen.
[sunfish bastard]: hey
[sunfish bastard]: you still haven’t told me the time of the next session
Kim Dokja decided to ignore his text. His finger continued to tap against the screen, eyes eating up the content of his current web novel. Only two minutes into the next chapter did Yoo Joonghyuk respond again, this time with a spam of texts.
[sunfish bastard]: kim dokja
[sunfish bastard]: hey
[sunfish bastard]: you
[sunfish bastard]: i know you’re reading my texts thru the msg previews bc you’re always on your phone
Kim Dokja’s hands shook greatly.
[sunfish bastard]: are you that incapable of sticking to the contract
[sunfish bastard]: stop avoiding me
[sunfish bastard]: damn bastard
[sunfish bastard]: if you don’t respond back within the next 5 min i WILL get han sooyoung to tell me your secrets
“Fuck!” Kim Dokja yelled. His fingers moved at lightning speed. Since when did Yoo Joonghyuk type so much? It’s as if he could hear Yoo Joonghyuk reprimand right him.
[rat]: i'm busy next week, i'll let u kno when
[sunfish bastard]: that’s a lie, han sooyoung already told me that you’re free next week
Kim Dokja’s eyes bulged out. What! Since when were the two of them friends?? When did they cozy up to each other?? Han Sooyoung, what a traitor!
Kim Dokja could only numbly look at his schedule before typing a response.
[kdj]: … next thurs, from 1-5pm
[sunfish bastard]: good
[sunfish bastard]: don’t you dare ditch
[kdj]: i won’t, promise <3
[sunfish bastard]: i don’t trust you
Kim Dokja continued to placate the sunfish bastard before immediately switching over to Han Sooyoung’s chat, both to scream at her and to frantically ask how the two got closer together. Han Sooyoung, being an equally little shit like Yoo Joonghyuk, responded in a similar fashion.
[sewer rat]: u!
[sewer rat]: u sold me out??
[sewer rat]: also since when did u change my name
[the best author in the world]: since today
[the best author in the world]: i'm only doing the best for u <3
[sewer rat]: best for me my ass </3
[the best author in the world]: oh yeah, before i forget, i got u his shirt ready
[sewer rat]: what
[sewer rat]: WHAT! since when???
[the best author in the world]: :)
[the best author in the world]: i'll see u on thurs
[sewer rat]: what!!!!!
[sewer rat]: HAN SOOYOUNG
[sewer rat]: SINCE WHEN???
[sewer rat]: HELLO?????? ?? ????? ?
Han Sooyoung then proceeded to ignore Kim Dokja’s cries thereon after.
Kim Dokja cursed under his breath. Han Sooyoung! How dare you sell out your comrade!
-
[Day 81]
Needless to say, Han Sooyoung delivered. She had even dressed the package in a frilly pink bow, much to Kim Dokja’s disdain.
“Stop judging my tastes and I’ll stop judging yours.” she joked.
“As if we’d ever stop judging each other.” Kim Dokja replied immediately.
Kim Dokja unraveled the package to reveal the white shirt. As expected, she went with the semi-transparent fabric, but the handiwork on it was on par with experts. Subtle lace on the collar and button area was not an easy task, and Han Sooyoung somehow knew what he was looking for from his drafts. He hadn’t even considered making this shirt at all due to its subtle complexity despite its simple layout.
“Did you use your connections to find a seamstress?” Kim Dokja asked.
“Maybe.” Han Sooyoung grinned.
“You could use those connections to find me a job then instead of a seamstress, you know.” Kim Dokja nudged her.
“Maybe if you were my editor instead, I’d get you a job.” Han Sooyoung crunched on her candy, popping another one into her mouth. “Being an artist is hard – you want me to find you a good place? Dream on.”
“Says the one who’s working to be in the lucrative industry as an author, I’d say you’d also struggle if you were in the same position as me.” Kim Dokja rolled his eyes.
“Heh.” Han Sooyoung laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you in my prayers. Who knows, maybe I’ll find someone for you.”
Knowing Han Sooyoung really would find someone for him, Kim Dokja’s gaze softened. “Thanks,” he said.
The door rattled opened, causing the two to turn their head towards the model that entered the room. Yoo Joonghyuk glared at the third person while Han Sooyoung gave him a shit-eating grin.
“Oh, seems like I have to go,” she gave Kim Dokja a sweet smile that sent goosebumps on his skin, “be sure to take care of that shirt, m’kay?”
“Yeah, yeah…” Kim Dokja muttered as he watched his friend close the door behind them. Yoo Joonghyuk turned to face him, sparing him no words.
Neither person spoke for a whole five minutes, with the two standing still like statues. Yoo Joonghyuk had folded his arms, his gaze directly on the other as if waiting for a response that he knew he’d never get. The silence was horribly awkward.
“So, uh, Han Sooyoung got a shirt I designed ready for you.” Kim Dokja finally spoke out in a quiet voice, pointing at the shirt that was lying flat on the table. He felt antsy because he didn’t want to worsen the model’s patience but he also didn’t want to exist in the room at the same time. “The other clothes are already inside the changeroom. The set-up is a little different today but there shouldn’t be any problems.”
“And… let me know if you have any questions about how to wear them?” Kim Dokja sheepishly added.
Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes before dropping his bag to the side and sauntering over to change.
-
When Yoo Joonghyuk came out of the makeshift change room, Kim Dokja subconsciously sucked in a quiet breath. Although Kim Dokja was no clothing designer, much to the same as Han Sooyoung, the two had collaborated enough to make something that really stood out.
The white, semi-transparent shirt hung loosely on his body, exposing his strong neckline and muscles underneath, the hem of the shirt partially tucked into his pants as it accentuated the outline of his hips. His shirt was loosely buttoned up, and his sleeves hung fairly open on his arms, with one sleeve rolled up past his elbow and the other halfway down his forearm. The tattoos on his upper body peeked out from underneath the fabric, adding a layer of both seduction and mystery.
There were more tattoos than Kim Dokja originally thought. Not only were they on his arms and shoulders, but they also slid down his sides as well, dipping below the hips. Moreover, with that number of tattoos, it’d be a crime if there weren’t any on his back.
His eyes crept lower to the waistline of his pants. They were a simple pair of black dress pants, formally fitted to the size of the model’s legs. The creases formed at his joints moulded just right, making him somehow more… enticing.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s attire for this session was incredibly simple compared to the other outfits Kim Dokja previously had him wear. The only things that added more life to his outfit were the numerous tattoos and the almost smirking gaze of the model’s face.
“Sit over there.” Kim Dokja cleared his throat as he pointed towards the sofa in the middle of the room.
Attempts to distract himself were abysmal.
-
The sound of the shutter going off echoed in the silent studio as the artist shuffled around for different angles. This was his usual practice, in the event that something came up or if he couldn’t remember the exact lighting that he wanted. Pursing his lips, Kim Dokja placed the camera to the side before adjusting one of the light fixtures, switching it to a warmer glow than the usual cold light he went for. It was cloudy today, so although Kim Dokja preferred natural light, this would have to do.
When Kim Dokja returned to his camera, he realized that something was off. Yoo Joonghyuk stared back at him, waiting for him to move.
The artist placed a finger to his lip, his brows scrunched together as he thought hard.
Ah. The collar of his shirt was slightly off. Since when did Yoo Joonghyuk do that?
“Will you fix it?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, having already known he would get caught. “Come here,” he said in a commanding voice.
Kim Dokja hesitated. His eyes fell to the floor, then to his canvas, and then directly into the model’s eyes. Fixing a shirt was, by all means, a normal thing. After all, there were models who sometimes couldn’t sit still, or the artist wanted to change something to fit their ideal better.
However, it felt daunting. The way that the model beckoned him over, his eyes constantly on him and only him. The way that the difference between model and artist—no, the distinction between observer and participant had blurred more than he originally believed in. Despite knowing how the other felt about him and how taboo it felt to cross the imaginary line the artist originally set in place, Kim Dokja wanted to cross it.
“Come here.” the model said again.
Kim Dokja’s legs shifted forward, his footsteps slowly arriving before where Yoo Joonghyuk sat. With almost shy hands, Kim Dokja leaned forward. The thin fabric that outlined the model’s figure rubbed between his fingertips, sending a subtle, electrifying sensation up his arms and down his spine as the warmth permeating from the model’s skin transferred at the touch of the artist’s wandering hands. The multitude of tattoos underneath the semi-transparent shirt moved with every breath, the model’s dark eyes peering back to study every minuscule movement of the artist before him, from his facial expressions to the way he slowly breathed out.
“As I thought,” the artist finally murmured, hands fully resting against the crook of the model’s shoulders, a slim finger slipping underneath the fabric to trace the designs on the model’s skin, “white really does suit you.”
“I still don’t think so.” Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly said, breaking the subtle atmosphere. Kim Dokja rolled his eyes before retrieving his hands. Suddenly, his hands were pulled, an iron grip holding them in place.
A tug brought the weight of his body forward, almost falling into the model’s lap. Kim Dokja’s eyes grew wide, mouth stuttering to utter words. Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was too close. His face started to feel warm.
“I don’t think white looks good,” Yoo Joonghyuk said once more, this time in a lower, huskier voice, “so I think you should consider changing the outfit.”
“You want to change? Now?” Kim Dokja blinked. He tried to wrestle his hands out of Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip before giving up when the other made no move to let go.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s exacerbated face caused him to belatedly realize the meaning behind the model’s words. The iron grip on his hands shifted downwards to his waist. This time, Kim Dokja really was sitting on his lap, their torsos almost touching each other. The heat against the small of his back spread like a wildfire across his body, just like it did in the first session they had together and when Yoo Joonghyuk had pushed him down on the table.
“Will you?” Yoo Joonghyuk inquired.
“Uh, you’ll have to give me more space to do that.” Kim Dokja looked down. His hands could just barely squeeze in between – unbuttoning would be a hassle.
“This shirt is loose.” Yoo Joonghyuk pointed out, his face nearing closer to Kim Dokja’s. His large hand tugged at Kim Dokja’s, leading it to caress his side, scorching Kim Dokja’s hand. Finally, it rested against the waistband where his shirt was tucked in.
“There are more ways than one to take off a shirt.” Yoo Joonghyuk explained, his voice merely above a murmur.
“You—” Kim Dokja started, ‘I’m not that dumb—’ was what he wanted to add before a pair of lips pressed against his, shocking him silly.
The first kiss was slow and chaste. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened at the sudden advance while somehow having the brain capacity to marvel at how soft the model’s lips were. It was a comfortable warmth, one so foreign and yet it felt right. Yoo Joonghyuk soon pulled back to gauge the artist’s reaction. Eyes peered back at each other, one more bewildered than the other. Kim Dokja suddenly felt disappointed that it was a mere fleeting moment, his eyes wandering to Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips and staying there.
He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe he wasn’t only touch-starved, but perhaps this kiss suddenly made Kim Dokja realize how much he was affection-starved too. Yes, he had set the line, but that didn’t mean he understood how much affection he was lacking. What did Yoo Joonghyuk mean by suddenly holding him and dropping a kiss? Did he really, truly like him?
“You are dumb and yes I do like you. Enough to deal with your stupid antics.” Yoo Joonghyuk arched a brow as if he could hear Kim Dokja’s thoughts. “So shut up for the moment.”
A hand pressed the back of Kim Dokja’s head downwards as the artist’s hand which rested against the model’s side twitched. With sudden strength, Kim Dokja’s hands pulled the shirt upwards. Wandering hands slid under the fabric, feeling up the muscles of the stomach and chest. The thunderous heartbeat pulsed against his hand, exposing the model’s true state to the artist. A shy moan slipped out of Kim Dokja’s lips when they broke for air.
The Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands started to shift, causing the artist’s heart to skip a beat and a shudder to run through his body. The temperature in the room started to rise, and the world spun around as the artist’s back pressed against the cushion. A leg was wedged in between his own, forcing the artist’s legs apart.
The distinctive pop of the button on his pants jolted Kim Dokja’s eyes open as he pressed against Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest in a measly attempt to make him wait. Yoo Joonghyuk merely grunted before nipping at his lower lip.
“We won’t go far.” was all he said before he silenced Kim Dokja with another kiss.
-
Their session went overtime. Thankfully, Kim Dokja was the last person to use it for the day and none of his friends were on campus for the time being, so no one else was wandering inside the halls or checking upon him. The two were still seated on the couch, clothes disheveled.
“Did Han Sooyoung give you the idea to mess up your shirt?” Kim Dokja asked.
“Unfortunately.” Yoo Joonghyuk grunted.
A thin finger traced up the model’s arm, following the outline of one of the many tattoos that bled into the next design. A large hand was still pressed into the small of his back, holding him in place. Eyes followed the movement of his hand.
“Who designed these?” Kim Dokja had to ask. The artist inside of his was dying to know. “I know you said you were inspired, but what is you who made them?”
“From my Teacher.” Yoo Joonghyuk answered after a short pause, “though some of these were made by me.”
“Oh? Talented in comp sci and art? Maybe you should have signed up for some arts degree instead.” Kim Dokja lightly commented.
Yoo Joonghyuk scoffed in response.
Kim Dokja was unbothered as he muttered, “I wonder if I could design something that meshes well with the rest of your tattoos.”
“You could. I’ll wear it.”
“Haha, what?” Kim Dokja blinked. He only mentioned that in passing because it was art-related and it looked good on him. Adding a tattoo on someone you’ve only just barely begun a relationship with is not something Kim Dokja would consider smart in his books.
“In the future.” Yoo Joonghyuk said.
“In the future?” Kim Dokja repeated.
“Mn. I’ll make it happen with that measly and overworked brain of yours.” Yoo Joonghyuk stated, boring holes into Kim Dokja’s head with his stare.
“Oh?” Kim Dokja smirked. “You think I can last that long?”
“Yes.” Yoo Joonghyuk gripped tighter.
“Sure, let’s make a bet then.” Kim Dokja laughed. Yoo Joonghyuk merely rolled his eyes in response.
-
[Four years later, X Company]
“Good morning, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Lee Hyunsung greeted the other as he sat down in front of his own computer. Yoo Joonghyuk simply nodded to him before returning his attention to the screen in front of him. It was a normal Thursday morning, five minutes before their work hours were supposed to start. Yoo Joonghyuk’s and Lee Hyunsung’s desks were situated next to the large windows, allowing a large amount of natural light to bathe them in a gentle glow. Passersby down on the street below went on with their daily lives, and if Yoo Joonghyuk was inclined to people watch, he would have noticed his other coworkers coming into the building. Yoo Joonghyuk quickly tabbed open to the work that was leftover from yesterday, his hand reaching out for his travel mug. The warm aroma of his home-brewed coffee wafted into his nose as he took a slow sip.
“Hm?” Lee Hyunsung suddenly made a noise, “Is that a new tattoo?”
Yoo Joonghyuk paused.
“Yeah.” Yoo Joonghyuk responded lightly, placing the travel mug off to the side. His left hand gently traced the outline of the tattoo that wrapped around his right wrist. Thin, roman numbers from one to twelve were separated by short lines in between completed the full circle of a clock, underlined by a subtle but intricate line layer. It matched seamlessly with his already existing tattoo despite its minimalism, as if it had always been there in the first place.
Kim Dokja had put his heart and soul into this design.
“This design seems different from your usual.” Lee Hyunsung commented as he took a closer look, for some reason being oddly sharp. “Did you get someone else to design it?”
“Mn.” Yoo Joonghyuk replied. His heart warmed up a few notches.
“It’s quite nice.” Lee Hyunsung smiled.
“What’s nice?” Lee Jihye asked. She announced her presence by dropping her bag onto her chair across from Lee Hyunsung.
“Yoo Joonghyuk has a new tattoo.” Lee Hyunsung repeated.
“What?” Lee Jihye exclaimed as she pressed her weight over the desk to peer in between their monitors. “Master!” she yelled, eyes growing wide. “Who designed it? Someone special to you?”
Yoo Joonghyuk gave her a nonchalant grunt. For someone who constantly followed after him raving about only work or game-related things, she too was awfully perceptive today. There was even a hint of sparkles in her eyes, her interest clearly piqued.
“I have to tell Uriel about this…” she muttered under her breath.
“Don’t. There’s nothing to it anyway.” Yoo Joonghyuk immediately responded, his expression turning dark. What was up with those two?
“How can it be nothing?” Lee Hyunsung asked obliviously, his eyes blinking innocently as Lee Jihye perked up, “all your tattoos carry some sort of meaning. What does this tattoo have?”
“A personal one.” was Yoo Joonghyuk’s reply.
Lee Jihye pouted her lips, but smartly pulled back from the conversation seeing that he wasn’t going to budge on it. Her fingers tapped furiously away on her phone, typing away to a certain someone despite feeling the glare honing in at her head. Lee Hyunsung merely gave a hum in response before focusing on his own work.
Yoo Joonghyuk actually did want to say something about it, to announce and boast about it in a subdued way, but in his usual stoic style, his mouth clamped shut. Besides, because it was a personal reason, there was a weird, possessive feeling about it, like it was some secret that only belonged to Yoo Joonghyuk.
His eyes traced over the tattoo on his right wrist, as it had done so many times before.
Because there were no hands on this clock motif of a tattoo, it could be seen as time came to a standstill or that time didn’t matter at all. Regardless of the interpretation, the meaning behind it was particularly cheesy.
At some point in time, I met you. From then on, I only cared about you. Time only carried weight when I spent it with you, otherwise, nothing else matter.