Chapter Text
Kim Dokja had found himself in quite a pickle situation.
A sigh of mortification escaped from his mouth as the briefcase he carried slipped from his grasp, shaky hands trembling by his side. “Just what the hell…” Kim Dokja’s quivering brown eyes latched on his dining table that he was sure was empty this morning but now filled with hot and piping meals.
Kim Dokja walked to the dining table cautiously, noticing a note pasted beside the meals. There was a simple sentence on it but it still managed to make Kim Dokja shake to his boots.
Eat. Don’t skip your dinner.
Does this person seriously think I will obediently follow what they said?! Kim Dokja looked at the note incredulously, scrunching the paper with his fist. He promptly to sweep away all the mouth-watering foods into the trash can, restraining himself from taking a bite out of it in fear of being poisoned.
Kim Dokja huffed as he patted both of his hands, nodding in satisfaction at his handiwork, a small relieved smile curled on his lips. “What a day.” He grumbled, took a shower and hit the hay as soon as he changed his clothes.
It doesn’t end there.
“Kim Dokja-ssi?” The exhausted man lifted his tired head, bloodshot brown eyes meeting a pair of gentle and kind light brown eyes in return. “Oh, Yoo Sangah-ssi.” Kim Dokja plastered a polite smile on his face as he straightened himself. “You look quite tired. Are you alright by any chance, Dokja-ssi?” Kim Dokja’s smile stiffened.
How can he be alright? It had been weeks and those foods kept on appearing with the same note reminding him to take care of himself. Those foods are delicious-looking and smell so good too… what a waste to be thrown away.
But Kim Dokja still have a little bit of self-preservation and he is not stupid enough to consume foods where he doesn’t even know the origin is. “I am just fine, Sangah-ssi.” Kim Dokja nodded to the woman who still had that worried look on her face.
“Well, if you said so.” An unconvinced smile hesitantly curved on her face as her intelligent light brown eyes bored through his worn-out soul.
That day, Kim Dokja returned home and found another set of meals prepared for him. He was tired and was totally fed up with this mental pressure from the unknown person that he stomped to the dining table, opening the lids of the foods aggravatingly.
“FINE! You want me to eat so bad, huh?!” Kim Dokja took a pair of chopsticks, stabbed one of the rolled eggs and shoved it into his mouth, munching on it furiously. Kim Dokja faltered for a moment when the divine taste kicked into his taste buds. “Huh… not bad.” He mumbled, picking out another rolled egg before switching to the stir-fried vegetables.
And before he knew it, he already cleared the whole foods, leaving empty containers behind. “Kim Dokja, you stupid bastard.” The man groaned to himself, palming his face at his own foolishness.
In the end, the foods kept on appearing and Kim Dokja finally relented, eating those foods prepared by his stalker(?). Days passed just like that and it took him quite a time for him to notice but his apartment now was much cleaner and tidier too. Huh, a stalker that can cook and clean, now that is something.
“Hah… I’m having Stockholm Syndrome.” Kim Dokja pinched the bridge of his nose as he stared at his newly folded laundry that was already sundried, emitting a nice fragrant. Kim Dokja sniffed the freshly dried clothes, jolting slightly when he smelt a totally foreign scent.
“I am pretty sure I didn’t use this kind of detergent…?” For Kim Dokja, he favors softer scent so most of his items like his cologne and detergent carries a hint of sweetness with a touch of nature-like scent. But this… this smell on his clothes is much sharper with a tang of spiciness. Totally different from his usually preferred aromatic stuff.
Chills crept his back and for once he felt that maybe his stalker is not that sane at all.
Before long, all of his clothes now emanating a much stronger scent which consists of both citrus and patchouli that suffocated his senses when he wore his clothes for a regular day. The acrid aroma was too much for his sensitive nose that prefers a gentler scent. It’s just too… oppressive and dominating.
Even his co-worker, Yoo Sangah who had the same acute nose as him noticed the change of his scent from him. “Oh, a new cologne, Dokja-ssi?” The woman asked innocently but she didn’t know that Kim Dokja had trembled from her simple inquiry.
“Y-yeah. Just trying something new.” Kim Dokja curved a strained smile to her, hiding his quivering right hand by tucking it close to his chest. This isn’t good at all. He didn’t want for anyone to find out he has a creep following him around and barging into his house now and then.
Right after he got home, he took all of his clothes and threw them into the washing machine, not caring of his electric and water bills that would consume a lot of his money. Luckily the next day was the weekend so he didn’t care whether he got any clothes to wear or not.
The whole next day, Kim Dokja merely had an old ratty shirt and shorts to wear that still carried the same masculine aroma. It made Kim Dokja uncomfortable, feeling like his whole body being invaded by an entirely new sensation.
After he finished folding the clothes he dried, he released a relieved breath, inhaling the sweet and soft scent coming from his clothes. “This is better.” Kim Dokja mumbled, nuzzling closer to his fresh clothes.
Of course things took a turn after that.
It happened the night when a totally fatigued Kim Dokja walked to his apartment in the dead of night after finishing a rather last minute project at his work. He walked out of the elevator, bypassing a man swathed in black fabric, cap lowered enough for him to miss his face.
“You look tired.” A husky, lulling and sensual voice talked to Kim Dokja who stopped on his tracks, suddenly feeling a sinistrous aura from behind him. “Quite disappointing that you washed off the clothes that I personally laundered. I rather like my smell on you, you see.” The deep voice chuckled in mild amusement.
“Don’t skip your dinner, Kim Dokja.” The elevators’ doors slid to close and Kim Dokja whirled around just in time to see a smirk curling on the lips of the unknown man.
Kim Dokja’s knees wobbled as he walked while supporting himself to his apartment by holding the wall. His shaking hand punched in his passcode, turning the door’s handle and opened the door slowly, brown eyes automatically directed to his dining table, pupils quivering greatly once he saw the becoming familiar sight before him.
Bile rose to his throat as he threw his briefcase to the floor, rushing to his bathroom and kneeled before the toilet bowl. Tears swelled at the corners of his eyes as he retched his stomach’s content, pungent smell wafting, hurting his nose and throat.
His stalker— his stalker is a guy.
“Wow, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Han Sooyoung tipped her head to the side, watching her best friend who had the worst dark circles in the years she knew him. Kim Dokja put down the coffee he was sipping on, facing her seriously with quite a wild look. “Say, Han Sooyoung, does stalker always clean your house and cook for you?”
COUGH.
Han Sooyoung choked on her lemon tea, clipping her nose between her fingers when the sour taste sharply stung her nostrils. “YOU WHAT?” Kim Dokja hushed her urgently, tips of his ears reddened at her loud voice.
“Quiet down, will you?” He hissed out worriedly, brown eyes flickering around with wariness. “No, no, no. You don’t tell me that when you literally dropped a bomb on me. Speak.” Han Sooyoung snapped her fingers impatiently.
Reluctantly, Kim Dokja told her.
“So.” Han Sooyoung elegantly put down her lemon tea with a soft clink, calculating eyes gazing at Kim Dokja with a razor-edged but unreadable stare. “To sum up, you are telling me that there is a stalker going in and out of your house, preparing food for you, cleaning your house and literally did house chores in your place?” Kim Dokja nodded.
Han Sooyoung was quiet momentarily and without any warning, her hand swiftly landed on Kim Dokja’s pale cheek. Taken aback, the man palmed his throbbing and reddened cheek with shock. “Why did you hit me?” He asked in confusion, torn between puzzled by her or getting revenge on her back.
“Just checking if you still have some brain cells left or not.” Han Sooyoung said plainly without any hint of guilt on her beautiful face. “It had been months since it happened, correct?” Kim Dokja nodded affirmatively. “Why didn’t you call the police?” Her brows furrowed in disapproval as Kim Dokja shifted in embarrassment.
“I—I thought that it would be too much of a hassle. Besides, I’m a guy…” Kim Dokja mumbled, voice trailing off when he saw Han Sooyoung’s disbelieving face. “Who cares about your fragile masculinity?! Your safety is in jeopardy, stupid crazy bastard Dokja! Have you tried changing your passcode? Keys? Locks? Please do tell me that you do!” Han Sooyoung was at the verge of shaking some senses to her best friend, hands itching and nearing Kim Dokja’s neck to throttle him.
“It’s fine. There is only one person and I can handle him.” Kim Dokja brushed off her concern with a mild smile as she groaned, flopping helplessly on the table. “Kim Dokja. Do you seriously wish for death? What if that stalker is dangerous, huh? What if he is some sort of creep that jerks off using your underwear?! He’s probably a pervert who got off using your clothes!” Han Sooyoung ranted, ignoring the horrified looks from the other customers with her blatant perversion questions.
“HAN SOOYOUNG.” Kim Dokja’s voice went high-pitched, ashamed by his best friend’s exaggeration, hiding his face between his hands. “Kim Dokja. I swear to God if you don’t report it to the police, I am going to drag you out of your home and get you another apartment. I’m not joking here.” And Kim Dokja knew that she was totally serious.
Han Sooyoung is the type to hold onto her promise no matter what the circumstances are.
“There is nothing serious happening, Sooyoung. If I ignore him, he will back off eventually. Besides, there is nothing interesting about me for him to be infatuated in the first place after all.” Kim Dokja said nonchalantly yet an inkling of insecurity leaked from his voice.
Han Sooyoung’s face softened, knowing how much Kim Dokja struggled with his insecurities and drawbacks. Being his longest time friend ever since university, she is an expert in deciphering his emotions. “You know that is not true.” She said, voice a tad gentler.
Kim Dokja remained unconvinced as he smiled at her. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It will pass sooner. So, don’t worry, Sooyoung-ah. I can protect myself just fine.” Kim Dokja joked as Han Sooyoung snorted. “You better be, Kim Dokja.” Han Sooyoung huffed but relented at last.
That’s what he thought too.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Kim Dokja’s head was hung low, a shaky hand hovering over the keypad of his apartment’s door. “Hm, did you forget your passcode?” Kim Dokja could feel heat and warmth coming closer to him, a pair of lips nearing the side of his face, fanning hot breath on his sensitive ear that twitched in fear. A tanned, large hand came up, calloused and manly as he punched in the passcode.
The door opened with an ominous click.
Kim Dokja stood frozen before his own door, feet stuck to the floor. “Have a nice sleep, pretty one.” A whisper echoed out as the man sighed out a teasing breath directly to Kim Dokja’s ear, causing a terrified, feeble whimper to escape from the smaller man.
Kim Dokja could feel the man stilling, the obviously taller man bent slightly, chin digging to his shoulder as his lips skimmed on Kim Dokja’s chilled neck so, so tenderly. “You shouldn’t make that kind of noise in front of me. It… stirs me up.” Kim Dokja’s spine went rigid, back stiffening as the man nuzzled his nose like he was a beast scenting his prey.
The man pressed his lips to his neck, murmuring a soft, “Dream of me, Kim Dokja.” before straightening and leaving the absolutely scared-out-of-his-wits Kim Dokja who immediately rushed into his house, collapsing after he slammed the door shut.
His heartbeat was erratic against his ribcage and Kim Dokja pulled his knees close to his chest, curling himself into a tight ball, a defense mechanism that automatically kicked in after years of his miserable life. He heaved frantic breaths, eyes squeezed shut as his hand gripped on his neck.
The spot that the man kissed still burns.
“Dokja-ssi? Are you alright? You have been off these days.” Yoo Sangah frowned, her soft features puckered into concern for her co-worker’s well-being that gradually worsened. The chatters and clinking shot glasses echoed around them as she ducked closer to peer at Kim Dokja’s weary features. “I am just fine, Sangah-ssi. There is nothing for you to worry about.” Kim Dokja smiled tiredly.
Yoo Sangah’s lips formed a thin line as she tilted her head to the side, honey brown locks swaying prettily. “Dokja-ssi, sometimes talking about something that burdens your mind to someone else will help, you know.” The pretty woman said, gentle as ever, never demanding for any answers. Her light brown eyes twinkled kindly under the restaurant’s lamps. Kim Dokja lowered his head, nibbling on his lower lip as he twisted his hands together anxiously, brown eyes peeking around, noting that the rest of his co-workers were distracted by the drinking competition.
“A-actually… I do have a problem.” Before he could stop himself, he blurted out all of his problems in one-go.
Yoo Sangah proved to be a good listener since she never interrupted him, face impassive yet thoughtful at the same time. When he finished, his chest felt greatly relieved yet he didn’t dare to meet Yoo Sangah’s face, expecting disgust from her.
“That is quite a difficult problem, I see. No wonder you have been so exhausted these days.” Unexpectedly, those were the first words that slipped past her mouth as she sipped on the water in her glass, brows pulled into a frown. “Y-you believe me, Sangah-ssi?” Kim Dokja said in disbelief, brown eyes took a light filled with hope. Yoo Sangah seemed to notice this as her face softened. “Of course, Dokja-ssi.” Her reply was simple yet meaningful.
“You—you are not disgusted? For a man to be stalked by another man of all thing…” Kim Dokja’s voice trailed off, fingers non-stopping fidgeting.
Yoo Sangah sighed lightly as she placed down the glass she was holding. “Of course not. It will be cruel of me to react that way when you are the one who is having a hard time. Women, men, it doesn’t matter. Stalkers are stalkers. So, Dokja-ssi, bear in mind. You don’t do anything wrong. Don’t be too ashamed by this.” Her voice was tender as she smiled at him.
Kim Dokja nodded his head, gratitude seeped from him as he flashed a genuine smile to Yoo Sangah who brightened, seeing the rare sincere look from her colleague. Kim Dokja gladly stuffed his mouth with wraps when he felt his head was cleared by all the burden he carried and Yoo Sangah encouraged him to eat more by placing a pile of meat and lettuce on his plate.
“Eating is healing.” She said while winking when he gazed at him questioningly.
That night, Kim Dokja returned home with a full stomach and for once, the dining table was empty. After showering, Kim Dokja went to bed with a clear mind and a relaxed heart.
Kim Dokja scrunched his face cutely when warm sunlight hit his face, the binds pulled apart to let a shaft of light slip through. Kim Dokja mumbled unintelligible words under his breath, burrowing his face deeper to the pillow, shirt rode to his hip, exposing his slim waist as the blanket threatened to slip over the bed.
A tug from the blanket caused Kim Dokja to jolt, opening his bleary eyes that caught sight of a blurry silhouetted person who seemed to notice his drowsy state. “Shush. Sleep. It’s still early.” A lulling, husky voice murmured, dragging a blanket over his body, tucking him under the cover gently.
“Who…?” Kim Dokja squinted his eyes to take a proper look yet his body that demanded for more rest overwhelmed his curiosity when his vision slowly turned hazy. A rough and calloused thumb traced his jawline, a seemingly thin smile curved on the faceless lips. “You will know soon.” And Kim Dokja’s eyes slipped shut.
When Kim Dokja woke up once again, nothing was there. A dream…? Kim Dokja wondered as he slung his blazer on his thin body, adjusting his crooked tie with a frown on his face. “Well, whatever.” Kim Dokja sighed, taking his briefcase, only glancing at his once again empty dining table with a brief gaze before going to work with a small smile on his face.
“Oya? You seem happy, Dokja-ssi.” Yoo Sangah teased her colleague who had liveliness on his features compared to these days. “Haha, really?” Kim Dokja sheepishly rubbed his nape with a bashful smile as Yoo Sangah merely grinned brightly.
Kim Dokja told her about the absence of the food yet he didn’t mention about the strange dream he had, not wanting to stain his happiness with something so weird. “I’m glad to hear that, Dokja-ssi!” Yoo Sangah clapped her hands together, apparent joy glittered in his light brown eyes. “Me too, Sangah-ssi.” Kim Dokja and Yoo Sangah laughed like they were sharing a secret between them.
The smile lingered on Kim Dokja’s face the whole day.
Only for it to disappear when he got home.
Kim Dokja stood before his doorstep where a pair black combat boots neatly placed on the floor, right beside his sandals. In Kim Dokja’s 28 years of living, he never owned a pair of boots.
Not. Even. A. Single. One.
Stiff hand held the handle of the door, quivering pupils latched on the combat boots. Kim Dokja took a few steps back, a hand still grasping the door’s handle while another one scrambled hastily to look for his phone. I have to—! “You’re not coming in?” A husky, sensual voice echoed out, bouncing through the corners of Kim Dokja’s apartment.
Kim Dokja’s body stiffened, head lowered as he dropped his gaze to the floor, not daring to make an eye-contact with his stalker. Who else would it be if it’s not his stalker? Kim Dokja’s hand that was still rummaging through his pocket stilled as well as pitter-patters of footsteps neared him.
A pinprick of fear clouded his mind when a pair of bare feet appeared before his line of gaze. His entire body shook when a tanned, muscled arm reached behind him, taking the door’s handle from his lax grip. A whiff of citrus and patchouli assaulted Kim Dokja’s sensitive nose.
It’s him!
Kim Dokja flinched when he registered the familiar scent in his senses. “You should wash up.” The man’s smooth voice murmured, closing the door with a resounding click. No—! Kim Dokja despaired, knees threatening to give away at any moment when his only hope to flee was taken away from him very quickly.
Kim Dokja was terrified. Utterly, horribly, terrified.
The man stood before him. Silence stretched between the two. “Are you scared?” The man asked, a lilt of amusement and unreadableness coated his oh-so attractive voice. Kim Dokja didn’t reply, merely hiding his eyes behind his long straight bangs.
The man’s height towered above Kim Dokja, probably 6 feet or more. His frame was suffocating as well, trapping Kim Dokja between the door although he stood with quite a distance from him. “I said,'' The man bent his body, black shirt rippled at his movement when he tilted his head to seek for Kim Dokja’s brown eyes. A pair of soulless black eyes peered curiously at him, seemingly taking joy in Kim Dokja’s silence.
“Are you scared?”
A sinister tug on his bow-shaped lips caused Kim Dokja to finally snap from his horror-stricken state. He grunted loudly, hand whipping out his phone as he backed away, frantically trying to grasp the door’s handle.
But the man moved faster than him. Before he could even switch on his phone, the said gadget was taken away, his wrist was caged by a large hand while the man’s other hand curled around his other hand that was trying to open the door.
“LET GO!” Kim Dokja yelled, struggling against the immense strength of his stalker. But the strength of a tired salary man couldn’t compare to this—this monstrous one. A soft chuckle rang out from the man’s mouth. “Running away from your own home? Isn’t taking it too far?” Kim Dokja snapped his head to the intruder, a snarl crept between his lips. “And whose fault is that?!” His retort died down as fast as it came up when an unfamiliar yet familiar face greeted him.
A pair of black eyes, refined thick eyebrows, razor-edged cheekbones, angular nose and bow-shaped lips. Black curls framed his gorgeous and sharp features that were once roundish with baby fats. The features changed greatly but were still the same, especially those void-like eyes. Kim Dokja’s brown eyes shook even more.
“You—you?” The black eyes twinkled happily when Kim Dokja recognized him. He beamed to Kim Dokja, lips curled into a smile, canine tooth poking out to show his delight.
“Hello, Kim Dokja. It had been years since we last met. Seriously, it’s so hard to look for you.” A despondent sigh slipped past the attractive man’s lips. Kim Dokja was muted with shock, hands quivering as his nerves flared dangerously.
“You… why are you here?” Kim Dokja tried to lean away from this dangerous man but the hold tightened. A warning. Kim Dokja’s mind concluded when the man’s brows furrowed disapprovingly. A pleased smile curved on the man’s lips when Kim Dokja stopped moving but his body was still rigid from tension.
“I told you, didn’t I? No matter how far you go, I will chase after you.” The few months younger man’s voice crooned, nose buried to Kim Dokja’s narrow shoulder. “It doesn’t matter if you rejected me back then. I still love you until now.” A pair of lips scattered light kisses to Kim Dokja’s jawline, causing the smaller man to whine in dismay but maybe with arousal too.
“Fuck, Kim Dokja. You are lovely as ever.” The man groaned, cords of muscles twined tightly around him. “I don’t want anything to do with you.” Kim Dokja struggled within the man’s grasp, hands that were still trembling pushed the wide and firm chest before him.
Silence.
Kim Dokja clenched his teeth when the younger man remained silent. He gasped soundlessly when fingers curled around his chin, yanking his chin upwards. Black eyes narrowed to slits and Kim Dokja knew he was dead. “How cruel. Pushing me away like this.” The voice rumbled in annoyance before changing drastically.
“Do I look like I care, Kim Dokja?” A smug tone lined the husky voice as the black curls shifted to the side, mischief danced within his abyss-like eyes. Ah… he hasn’t changed at all. The corners of Kim Dokja’s eyes pricked with vulnerable tears as the long fingers brought his chin closer and Kim Dokja closed his lids helplessly, tears slipping down from his cheeks as a pair of lips firmly pressed down to his lips for a punishing yet passionate kiss.
Yoo Joonghyuk has always been like this. When he hears something that he doesn’t want, he will ignore it. He takes what he wants by force and when it slips away, he won’t give up until he has it back.
Strong arms wrapped around his slim waist as Yoo Joonghyuk kissed him breathless for all the years Kim Dokja left him without any words after their high school’s graduation. Dripping saliva and tang of iron mixed into one as Kim Dokja cried into the kiss quietly while calloused and deft fingers sifted through his straight black hair, hand firmly pressed to his nape so that the smaller man who slipped away from Yoo Joonghyuk’s grasp last time won’t escape again.
“I won’t let you go this time. You’re mine, Kim Dokja.”
This time Kim Dokja was caught. The inexorable chains that he thought he already severed years ago now wrapped around him once again, tying him down to the possessor of the key - Yoo Joonghyuk. There is no chance of him leaving again. Yoo Joonghyuk will make sure to break Kim Dokja’s wings with his own hands so that the older man stays by his side.
Even if it means risking Kim Dokja's hatred.