Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“We should break up.” Kim Dokja takes a long sip of the iced americano in his hands, hoping the cold drink would cool his clammy hands. The caffeine, though, definitely is making matters worse, amplifying his already overflowing anxiety. Maybe I should have picked a different place. The coffee shop they are at is busy, but the hustle and bustle of the crowd feel like murmurs to him in comparison to the beat of his own heart. Apprehensively, Dokja looks up at his companion across the table. He purposely chose the couches near the window since the light in the afternoon perfectly filters golden rays on Yoo Joonghyuk’s handsome features. Even if this was a breakup, Dokja wants to at least see his beloved in great lighting. 

There is a long silence before the sound of a paper cup being crushed makes Dokja flinch. 

“Hey! What the hell? You’re spilling your coffee everywhere. I get you're mad, but don’t make other’s lives harder!” Even though those words came out, he was carefully eyeing Joonghuk's hands as they rapidly turned red. Dokja scrambles up and uses the napkins he grabbed earlier to wipe said hands, and proceeds to give him the iced americano he was drinking earlier, hoping it would soothe the pain. Joonghyuk, maybe still in shock, accepts it obediently. There was still coffee pooling on the table, so Dokja gets up from his seat and walks towards the counter before a large hand grabs his wrist.

“Why?” The words come out in a deep pained crack. Joonghyuk doesn’t look up at the man he’s grabbed onto, but stares at an indefinite point in front of him with hazy eyes. He looks like a puppy abandoned on the side of the road and it makes Dokja’s heart beat slightly harder. No, he’s already said the words, he can’t take them back. 

Dokja gently pries Joonghuk's fingers off of his wrist, “Just. Let me clean this up first.” God, this is already a disaster. He was planning to end it clean and easy. Yes, they both would be sad for a bit and mope around, but Yoo Joonghyuk was a strong man. He was a man who faced many hardships and disappointments, but also a man who always got back up and always forged ahead, a trait Dokja couldn't help but find lovable. This is just another setback, but then he will get over it. He will find a new man or woman to love, and they'll have a whirlwind romance and a family…yes, soon Dokja would just be a fleeting memory. He can only hope that it will be a happy memory.

With the coffee properly cleaned up, Dokja sat down once again and looked his now ex-boyfriend in the eyes. He notices the iced americano returned back to the center of the table. That stupid sunfish, his hands still must hurt.  

With a sigh, Dokja crosses his arms and laments, “What a waste of perfectly good coffee. It didn't do anything to you. Don’t you feel bad for it! Its life ended by being thrown away. ”

“Why are you breaking up with me?” Joonghyuk is now hunched over with his hands tightly clasped together and staring holes in the space between his feet. “Did I do something wrong? Can I try again?” 

Those words pried open Dokja’s ribs like they were retractors and coiled around his heart, giving it a reprimanding squeeze of guilt. Oh god how can I break up with him like this. With a sigh, Dokja closes the space between the two and kneels down in front of Joonghyuk, taking his hands within his trying to get those slightly golden eyes to look at him. This position must have looked odd to outsiders, and Dokja was embarrassed about being seen like this, but he shook those thoughts away. What matters right now was comforting his friend. After a second, Joonghyuk returns his stare, his eyes slightly wet with tears that fell silently. Dokja reaches up and swipes the other cheek with his fingers, and with a sigh he starts his preplanned speech.

“It really isn’t your fault Joonghyuk. I don’t think I can give you what you need…and we are going in such different directions after I graduate. I won’t be able to handle it." And after a pause, "I’m sorry for being so weak.” 

Joonghyuk squeezes his hands around Dokjas’, “How do you know what I need? What did I do wrong! I can change.” 

Dammit.

Dokja tries to stay calm, but Joonghyuk’s response...it…It’s too much. With a sigh, Dokja stands up and makes his way out of the coffee shop, but not without giving Joonghyuk a silent “I’m sorry” as he passes him. 

——————

Plagiarist

 What on earth did you do Kim Dokja! -15:34

15:34 - what do you mean

He keeps blowing up my phone!

he’s all depressed now cus of you. fix it now. -15:34

15:35 -I let him down easy… 

You could’ve warned us before??

 what tge hell is wrong with you -15:35

*the -15:35

Anyways i’m coming over get your ass up -15:35

Dokja turns off his phone and places it on his night stand. It’s only been a week but the entire friend group found out about the abrupt break. He was the one who ended things, he has no right to be so upset. But he can't help it. He won’t be able to see that sardonic smile anymore or those determined eyes— he won't see the man who has been in his life past highschool. He decides to bury himself in his comforter instead of thinking. The past few days have been a blur, he hasn’t left his bed and he drowned himself in stupid B rate webnovels. Not to mention he hasn’t eaten properly or showered. It will pass, these feelings, the giant hole in his chest will be filled with novels once again, and he will be fine, but for now…for now he is tired. He lets his heavy eyes shut and waits for the pounding headache to subside so he can sleep peacefully. Yes, sleep would be better than being awake for another minute. Dokja was tired, perhaps too tired to hear the front door to his apartment open and the characteristic voice of Han Sooyoung screaming.

“KIM DOKJA GET THE FUCK UP!”

Dokja’s headache seems to be getting worse. 

“Mmmmm Go away” his voice is hoarse. It’s been days since he spoke to someone, so some morning phlegm was still stuck in his voice.

“You stink. Go take a bath, I’ll clean up all this mess.” Sooyoung didn’t give Dokja a choice, she dramatically ripped the covers off of him and dragged the limp corpse of a man to the bathroom. She drops him next to the bathtub and leaves, rolling up her sleeves to get to work on the pigsty of an apartment. Once Dokja registered he was in the bathroom, he limply took off his clothes and got in the running bath. He thinks for a second that he should have probably taken a shower beforehand, but he doesn’t have the energy for that right now. He couldn't help but smile as the steam fogs up the mirror. He is glad he gave Sooyoung the spare key.

He doesn’t know how long he took, but by the time he was done washing up all the empty ramen cups were gone, the counters and floors were all shiny, and he could hear the washing machine running. Han Sooyoung is splayed across the couch in a pink frilly apron that Dokja bought some time ago because he thought Joonghyuk would look silly in it. Joonghyuk eventually wore it, despite protests, and it was his designated apron whenever he came over to cook. But now…

“Look at the amazing job I did! Praise me peasant.”

Wow, her ego is so big , “ Thank you so much Han Sooyoung-ssi. You’re so smart and capable and pretty.” Dokja tries to keep his tone as flat as possible to sell the sarcasm, but he couldn't help but chuckle a little when he said pretty.

“Ugh, you’re insufferable. Take out the trash and come back. We’re gonna talk about this.” 

We're gonna talk … Dokja takes it back, he should have never given her that key.

When Dokja returns from his errand Sooyoung is at the kitchen table going through his phone. Instinctively he pats his pockets and notices that nothing’s there. Damn, he left it on the nightstand.

“Give that back asshole.” He quickly approaches her and snatches his phone from her grasp. “What are you doing! This is a total invasion of privacy.”

Sooyoung furrows her eyebrows and picks at her lips. Her jaw is clenched so hard Dokja is afraid that one of her snaggle teeth might break off. The silence makes Dokja nervous, and he opens his phone to see what Sooyoung was snooping around for. It opens at the call log page, he has dozens of missed calls from Joonghyuk and his friends, all which he ignored in the few days of heartbreak, but there was nothing that would cause this kind of reaction. 

“Is that why you broke up with him? For such a stupid reason?” Her voice is loud and it stings Dokja’s ears a bit. He covers them with his hands.

“What are you talking about? Why are you yelling?” 

“I saw it! You had a call from the correctional facility a week ago. What are you so worried about? I can’t believe you! You’re not a kid anymore, you can just run away from your problems!”  Dokja can feel a fuzz take over his brain as the shouting continues. Both of them know that Dokja doesn't do to well with shouting and that Sooyoung can't help but do so, but they let the other fight in this way. Sooyoung isn’t yelling because she wants Dokja to listen, she knows he’s not, and Dokja lets her yell because he knows she needs it. There isn’t any animosity, it's a comfortable aggression they show each other. 

“I’m going to cool off, I'll be back soon.” Sooyoung huffs and slams the door behind her with a loud BANG . After a beat, she opens the door again and meekly apologizes and closes it gently behind her. Dokja uncovers his ears and finally notices the silence around him. It’s so empty and he’s alone. He rests his head on the cold table waiting for the noisy writer to fill the space again. 

Instead, he gets a text approximately an hour later ordering him to take Sooyoung's bag to the local Bar & Restaurant. He looks outside and he sees the approaching dusk, so he quickly scoops up the backpack and runs out the door. It’s a little chilly, but he doesn’t want to go back to get a coat, plus the restaurant is only a few blocks away so he figures he will be fine. 

When he arrives, there is already a pitcher of beer, three bottles of soju, and dumplings on the table. Sooyoung quickly cracks open the bottle and makes a simple somaek while Dokja settles down. 

She hands it to him while saying, “Explain it to me.” Dokja takes the drink and chugs it in a few seconds.

“Give me another one and I'll tell you.” Fuck it. He needs to get wasted to tell this story. 

Chapter Text

Han Sooyoung must have known that Kim Dokja wouldn’t tell her anything without some assistance, hence the drinking invite, but as much as her curiosity burned her, her desire to nag won out. Her voice would also make for good filler while waiting for Dokja to get drunk enough to spill his thoughts. 

“You know he skipped his stream this week? That annoyingly diligent guy skipped his stream cus he was so heartbroken!” She starts. 

“Hmm” Dokja hums while sipping on his fifth somaek. 

“He’s also playing that stupid otome game again, and he texts me every time he has to make a choice and he gets all mopey when I choose wrong! And then he gets mad at me! I don’t even know the main storyline! How can I choose the right answer?”

Dokja just laughs in response. Of course that sunfish is helpless when it comes to dating sims. Why is he playing it anyways?  

“You know, he’s probably playing it because he thinks the breakup is his fault. That idiot thinks he can learn from video games after all. He’s gonna try and win you back you know? It’s gonna be so cringe.” 

Woah can she read my thoughts?  

“It really isn’t his fault…” Dokja begins, his inhibitions slipping from him. “It is my fault. Things were getting…getting.” 

argh my words aren’t coming out. Maybe I'm drunker than I thought. 

“I was so happy. It was so good. He made me so happy.” 

What am I saying?  

“I was so scared Sooyoung-ah. I got the call last week. I mean I was scared before that call, how could someone like me make him happy. He must have been lying, you know. How can I make someone like him happy?” 

Oh god what the hell. I’m talking nonsense.  

“I got the call…It reminded me about how…how I am. This is so stupid to think…I know...but…but seeing him-- I am his son after all…what if..” I became like him. Dokja’s field of vision was blurry. He touches his face and feels the wet warmth of tears rolling down his cheek. 

Ahaha how pathetic . The dry chuckle makes Sooyoung’s heart plummet, and she reaches to hold Dokja’s hand trying to give some purchase to his feelings. Even though her first priority was comforting, she couldn't help but be alarmed at his words; did he say he saw him? Him. There was only one person he could be talking about.

“You went to see your dad?” Sooyoung urgently prodded, squeezing the pale hand beneath hers. Dokja shakes his head in that sort of way drunk people wobble their head ‘no.’

“No…no… he was released, that’s why I got the call. Informing me about it since the restraining order and all.”

“Then…oh my god you met him somewhere else? Like outside? Are you ok?” Sooyoung is now gripping Dokja’s hand so hard his hand was turning red. It definitely hurts, but Dokja says nothing about it.

“No no no.” He babbles, “I went to meet him. But after the conversation. He’s my dad. I hate him. I know that, but…but.” He bites his bottom lip and tastes a little bit of blood. His free hand naturally gravitates to the back of his head and he picks at the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“He loved my mom Sooyoung. He must have loved her…” Dokja takes a deep breath. “What if I become like him? What if I grow into him? I don’t know how to love. How could I know? I don't--I can’t hurt Joonghyuk. I'm afraid, Sooyoung.” Dokja’s hands tremble and Sooyoung relaxes her grip, but still she says nothing. There’s more she knows it. 

“I’m not capable of loving someone, I've come to that conclusion. How can someone who grew up without such love, or seeing that kind of love…how can I love Joonghyuk. I don't deserve to love him. I’m afraid Sooyoung…How can I live like this? How can I be like this? Sooyoung…” Every sound that comes out after is a choked sob. He’s done, what else can he say? Sooyoung gets up and hugs him, burying his face in her shoulders as he continues to wail like a small child. He reaches to hug her and she rubs affectionate circles in his back, this is the most she can do for now and hopefully he will understand.

…..

Han Sooyoung is in a bit of a pickle. After her idiot wiped his snot all over her, he proceeded to pass out on the table. She pokes (jabs) Dokja’s cheek, trying to get him to wake up, but she only gets a disgruntled groan in response. His apartment wasn’t too far, but she definitely wasn’t strong enough to drag him all the way back there in the cold; she barely was able to drag him to his own bathroom, and he was conscious at that time! She fiddles with her phone, and with resignation presses the call button. 

“Hey, are you busy right now?”

…..

Dokja’s head is like a fishbowl, with very disgruntled fish swimming around in it. He can feel his consciousness slipping in and out, but unable to open his eyes, his drunken brain tries to focus on his other senses. Warmth is all he can feel. Warmth and…something sturdy? A back? Is he on someone’s back? This back is so familiar and warm. Dokja can’t help but squeeze his arms around the other and nuzzle his head in the crook of his transporter’s neck. So…so comfortable…

“Kim Dokja?” He couldn’t hear his name being called as he softly fell asleep again. 

….

Dokja wakes up surprisingly refreshed. He is just a little groggy, but he doesn’t have any other signs of a hangover. This is bad. That could only mean he threw up last night. He gets out of bed to survey the damage he caused, but once he gets out of his covers the cold atmosphere sends a shiver down his spine. He is only wearing his boxers. Ugh, he must have gotten vomit on himself and whoever was taking care of him. After wrapping himself with a blanket, he makes a b-line to the bathroom, expecting a huge mess. Surprisingly, it's clean. Cleaner than he left it… He goes to the laundry closet and doesn’t see the clothes he put in the dryer the night before nor the clothes he was wearing in the washing machine, so he goes to his closet and everything is folded neatly in its proper place. Suspicious… Sooyoung wouldn’t do this. It was also suspicious that he was in his own bed, she was definitely too weak to drag him all the way home. He enters the living room to find said woman fast asleep on the couch, with a familiar black jacket draped across her. Heat rises to his face. No way… He moves to the kitchen, no no no it’s nothing. She has a similar jacket. I'm sure it’s hers. He should make something to eat. When he opens the fridge he sees two bowls of sulguk with a post it note: “heat up for 2 min.” Fuck , at this point he can’t deny it: even as exes he was still being a burden on Joonghyuk. He closes the fridge door and settles next to the sleeping Sooyoung, pulling up the webnovel app on his phone and waiting for her to wake up so they can eat together. 

The two spend the day lazing about in Dokja’s apartment. They both don’t talk about the end of the night or the content of their discussion, but it seems that Sooyoung has reached an understanding with him. Her only response was a very embarrassing proclamation that he is lovable even if he can’t believe it, followed by a playful (aggressive) punch to his arm. They both know those words land on deaf ears, but he appreciates her sentiment. Since it is Sunday and Dokja has to go to the university tomorrow, Sooyoung leaves in the evening, reminding Dokja to respond to the group chat from time to time so they all know he isn't dead. He waves her goodbye, promising her he will check it soon. He doesn’t but a little white lie doesn’t hurt anyone, does it?

When the door closes he can’t help but slump on the couch staring out in the vast expanse of the living room. The dark silence encroaches him like black tar and he can’t help but crumple on himself. It’s Sunday…He should be starting his stream soon. Dokja turns on his phone and navigates to the streaming app with practiced familiarity, and soon the blue LED is the only thing illuminating the room. 

——————

“Hyung! Hyung!” A slender brunette undergraduate toddles behind Dokja, trying to grab his attention. Dokja turns around, and, seeing the bright face of Lee Gilyoung, he instinctively pats his head. 

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘hyung’ when we’re at school? I’m just your TA right now.”

Gilyoung pouts. I guess I can let it go . Dokja really is weak to his dongsaeng.

“You wanted to talk about the assigned reading right? My office hours are soon, let’s go upstairs.”

The young man perked up, “how’s your dissertation going hyung?”

Ah shit. “I really don’t want to think about it right now.” Dokja lets out a huge sigh akin to the sound of a balloon deflating, and with a look of pity Gilyoung pats his hyung on the back. 

“Must be hard being an adult.”

When they make it back to his office a young blonde girl is already waiting on one of the beanbag chairs.

“Ajusshi, you’re late!”

“What are you doing here!” Gilyoung’s face crumples as he looks disgusted to meet his friend. 

“It’s office hours dumbass and I have a question.”

“Shin Yoosung.” Dokja takes a stern tone. “Language.” 

Yoosung is slightly shocked by the sudden scolding and looks dejected, but she begrudgingly apologizes to Gilyoung anyways. 

“Why are you guys in this class anyways? Aren’t both of you biology majors? At this point you guys can get a literature minor.”

The two kids perk up and look at each other. Gilyoung starts murmuring to himself, “Oh maybe… that wouldn’t be a bad idea! Then we’ll have an excuse to follow hyung--” his words were cut off by the blonde grabbing his face.

“Shut up!” 

Dokja couldn’t help but laugh at the bickering undergrads before him. So they were taking a ‘Coming of Age Stories’ class just to see him; that’s a little cute. 

“What were your questions?” Even if they’re all friendly, he still has a job to do or professor Bihyung might actually get mad at him if he gets another bad evaluation.

“Well…” Yoosung starts first, “I don't understand why Alice starts crying, or how that relates to the themes of the book. I know it’s an important and iconic scene but I can't quite grasp why the author included it. I also think the ending with her sister was quite strange.”

Dokja ponders a bit before answering, “Let’s start with your first question, are you talking about the scene where she keeps growing and shrinking after eating the cake?” She nods.

“Well Yoosung, remember what this class is about?” She nods again, clinging on every word. 

“Alice in Wonderland is one of the most prototypical coming of age stories. Think of that scene in the context of a young girl growing up, remember when you were in the early stages of puberty? How did you feel?” Yoosung sits up from the relaxed position she was in before and starts sliding her fingers across her chapped lips, picking at them while contemplating the question. 

“Well, it was strange and weird. I felt like I wasn’t myself and it was painful and scary.” 

“Alice must have felt the same way, no? Her growing and shrinking rapidly like that is a sort of metaphor for growing up. Pay attention to her thoughts in the scene; she's self conscious and anxious and lonely. She doesn’t feel like herself, and she left her sister back under the tree, one of her only comforts, so of course she would start crying.” A lightbulb went off in Yoosung’s head as she connected the dots. 

“Oh so…she was feeling like she wasn’t herself because she couldn’t control herself from physically ‘growing up.’ She gets an identity crisis because she's becoming an adult? So, wouldn’t this also tie into the caterpillar’s question of ‘Who are you?’”

“Yes! In fact, I would argue that that question of ‘Who You Are’ is one of the central themes of the story. She is questioning her identity as a child and about accepting the nonsense adults impose upon her, and about if those changes make her a different person or if she will remain ‘Alice.’ It’s also important to note how dangerous Wonderland is...” Dokja stops. Oh I should stop rambling…

“Anyways, you can explore that in your final essay. I don’t want to put ideas in your head, make sure they're your own thoughts.” 

“So then…the ending with her sister’s perspective. She thinks of Alice’s dream like child's play…” Dokja feels like he can hear the distinct clicking of gears turning. Oh dear, she might overheat her brain at this point.

“So!” Yoosung shouts her epiphany. “So in the end! Her sister listens to Alice and dismisses it as a childish dream because she herself is a sort-of-adult so she understands the concerns and worries Alice has and knows that they aren’t as big of a deal as Alice is making it out to be. She knows that even if you become a new person and forget your childhood, you’re still yourself despite it.” Yoosung doesn’t give Dokja time to respond as she opens up her laptop and feverishly types out her notes. 

“Um…” Gilyoung speaks up from the corner he was in, himself listening to the discussion and writing his own notes, “I think it would be interesting to write about Alice and her sister’s relationship.” Dokja gives Gilyoung an inquisitive “hm?” which prompts the boy to speak further.

“I think that even though her sister listened to her and she herself daydreams about wonderland… doesn’t that show her sister is a little bit childish as well? But she also acts as a nurturing ‘adult-like’ force helping Alice grow up, it’s paradoxical?” Gilyoung shakes his head, the threads in his brain are jumbled, and he stares long and hard at his laptop trying to untangle the conclusions he wants to draw out.  “So essentially, they're growing up together and supporting each other and accepting each other’s concerns. She wants to see Alice in all her new forms as they grow and the woman she will become and accepts that woman isn’t the Alice she has now. And her sister’s love is what enables Alice to move past her anxieties?” 

Dokja is struck by this notion. Accepting her concerns? Accepting the future forms of her sister? Embracing them and confirming them but growing anyways…growing together. While her sister certainly is portrayed as an ‘adult’ she is also implied to be a child herself. Still young enough to kindly listen to her sister’s story and worry and assure her and comfort her…only because she is an adult-like-child. 

“That's an interesting thought…” Dokja mumbles as he covers his mouth contemplating the words that were spoken to him. “Is having someone accept every possibility of her that important for Alice’s growth? Couldn’t Alice grow up without her sister?”

“Well how can someone grow to accept their identity without that kind of love? Or at least I think that acceptance is a type of love. Anyways, I don’t think so…or it would be an incredibly lonely experience. ”

Dokja’s eyes shook, and he could feel his blood pressure drop. Lonely… certainly. It is lonely. But more than being lonely…it was painful…but a person that could love the future possibilities of someone…that is impossible. Was it possible? Well the author certainly must think it is an important element for growing up or why else include the sister character? Dokja’s literary brain went into overdrive; speculating, connecting, and analyzing the significance of Gilyoung’s interpretations. The silence must have been too long since Gilyoung reaches out to grab his hyung’s arm, snapping Dokja back into reality. He looks at his student.

“Those are really interesting thoughts, Gilyoungie. For the final paper though, I think it would be better to write about more concrete themes so you can pull from the text more clearly. The relationship between Alice and her sister isn’t explored much in the book and will lead to a majority of your paper being speculation.” 

“Ok Hyung, I’ll choose a different topic.”

The mood shifted and the students could feel it, but they all collectively chose to ignore it, with the graduate student ignoring his hoobaes’ concerned glances. He had more pressing matters…like his dissertation collecting dust on his hard drive. 

——————

Bonus scene:

“Hey, are you busy right now?”

“Uh Sooyoung-ssi?” Lee Hyunsung’s voice was clearly confused as to why she was calling him.

“Answer the question! Dokja is too drunk to get home, I need help moving him.” She jabs the sleeping figure in annoyance.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, actually me and Heewon are on vacation right now on Jeju island…we aren't in Seoul right now.” 

Oh shit I totally forgot. She slaps herself on the forehead. 

“Oh shit I forgot. Enjoy your little honeymoon.” An embarrassed protest was cut off by Sooyoung hanging up the phone. Fuck. There goes her number one and two choices. She bites the nail on her thumb. Shit shit shit shit there’s only one person she can call now. She stabs Dokja with her finger one more time just to make sure he won’t wake up-- he sleeps like he’s dead, but one can never be too sure. 

After three rings, he picks up.

“Joonghyuk-ah~” 

“Ew. Why are you using that voice? It's gross. What do you want?” Sooyoung rolls her eyes, he’s as crass as ever.

“I need a little favor…You see, Hyunsung and Heewon are on vacation right? So can you come here and pick up your drunk ex-boyfriend?”

Joonghyuk snorts at the mention of ‘ex-boyfriend’ but continues, “You should have called me first. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you~”

“Stop with that voice please.”

Chapter Text

Dokja looks out the window in the shared office and is greeted by a dark velvet of the night sky. It’s been hours since his noisy undergraduates filled the space with their discussions. He suspects that while they did have questions about their final paper, they just wanted to keep him company, hearing how he took a week off to recover from his self induced heartbreak. The notion fills his stomach with warmth, but like most feelings, that warmth escapes him just as quickly as it came, replacing it with a familiar empty doubt. He turns back to his screen, making feeble progress on his paper, he decides that he is done for the night. If he hadn’t made any progress in the past two hours he probably won’t make much more in the coming two. With a heavy sigh he shuts his laptop and packs his things away, walking out of the building with thoughts of what he would eat for dinner tonight. I could stop by the convenience store and grab some kimbap…

“Kim Dokja.” A familiar gruff voice greets him at the entrance and it fills Dokja with…with pain . There’s no other word he can use, it’s a sharp, paralyzing pain that ricochets inside his chest. No, no, I'm not ready. Dokja turns around despite himself and is met with Joonghyuk, his nose a violent tomato red, his normally curly hair was flat, and he was slumped over. He looked absolutely miserable, but still dazzling as ever in his grief. He was holding red camellias, a simple bouquet, and disgusting anticipation invaded Dokja’s mind. How horribly cliche, Dokja couldn’t help but think, the trope of waiting for someone no matter how cold it was outside, like today, the snowy winter night enveloping the two. The taller man only took a couple of strides to meet the other, peering below his bangs and wordlessly hands over the bouquet, his hopes developed in the flowers as he extended his hand, hoping that something would reach through to the other, hoping for an acceptance that would never come. 

Dokja couldn’t help but close his eyes. Why was he so tempted to accept these hopes? Of course, it’s only been a week, it was fresh. An almost decade long relationship doesn’t go away after a week. It was a fraction of a percent of the time they spent together. Doesn’t Joonghyuk know how painful it is to show up at his workplace, cold and shivering, after parting so soon. The guilt.

They stared at each other, maybe it was because of Joonghyuk’s incredulity, how his actions always stabbed Dokja knowing that he ended things, how the confirmation of how he was the problem. How could he not be the problem? They broke up and Joonghyuk still took care of him when he was drunk, how he asked Sooyoung about his condition, how, up until this moment, he respected the other’s space, how can a man as selfish as him love the other selfless creature in front of him. 

There is silence for a long time.

Joonghyuk broke this silence, “Please” He pursues his lip, as if he has to pry the words out by force. “Please tell me properly.” He shoved the flowers in Dokja’s hand, forcing him to accept them. A treacherous part of Dokja couldn’t help but think how that action was so like the younger man— how dare he think that— they were meant to be only friends (strangers) now after all. 

But. But. Somehow, the words Joonghyuk spoke always,  always  crumbles his resolve. He steeled himself for a month to break the other’s heart and he can’t back down now. Not now. As fast as it crumbled, his determination was built back up. 

Dokja walks away. 

Except. It doesn't stop. It never stops. How could Dokja break the heart of such a bull headed, stubborn, insufferable man! Dokja looks around his apartment; it is practically a florist's shop. He could sell them and make a pretty profit if he is so inclined. After that snowy night, Joonghyuk showed up everyday for the next week, waiting for him in the cold and every time Dokja was painfully reminded of the life he decided to end with him. At one point Dokja got so frustrated that he shouted at Joonghyuk about how his colleagues started pestering him about the man who is always waiting for him, and that he was bothering their workflow. After that Joonghyuk started waiting at his doorstep.

How horribly, terribly  cliché. Dokja shook his head. He was a hypocrite, he actually loved, adored the sappy, disgustingly honey sweet cliches like this. Joonghyuk indulged him a little while they were dating, but not to this extent. It will end tomorrow. He has to end it soon before it becomes too painful for both of them, and, as much as he hates to admit it, the gamer’s determination was wearing him down, like the sea eroding the stone walls he built for himself. 

The next day came and it is snowdrops this time. Dokja supposed that spring was around the corner. Instead of their now new routine of silent exchange, Dokja opened the door and lingered, looking back at the black clad figure. He was shaking at the realization, golden eyes spread wide and a relieved look spread across him, making the reader’s heart drop at the anticipation of what he was about to do. They went inside together.

They settled on the couch after the snowdrops found their new home on his countertop and freshly brewed tea was in both of their hands.

Dokja gritted his teeth, “You’re such a bullheaded stubborn…” a strangled cry escaped him. “ Ugh , you’re insufferable.” Despite the words being thrown at him, Joonghyuk smiles into his mug. 

Dokja could feel his blood pressure rise, cheeky bastard . “Fine fine I’ll tell you everything. You’re stubbornness got through me. And after. After you hear everything we’ll take some time to ourselves and maybe we can still be friends after, but I don’t know.” His words were getting tangled up, but of course this was par for the course. Joonghyuk hums in response and his attention transfixes on the object of his affections. It makes Dokja nervous, and he can’t help his shaking voice. 

“Sooyoung probably told you about how my Dad got released a few months ago.” The clattering porcelain tells Dokja that she did not, in fact, inform Joonghyuk of that fact.

“Uhh, well…” The storyteller felt a little sheepish at his assumption, but he was grateful for the knowledge his best friend kept his privacy. He continues.

“He sought me out, asking for a talk. He knows the restraining order is in place, so he sent a letter with his parole officer.” Joonghyuk's knuckles are white as he claws at the fabric of his pants, anger clearly washing over him, but he says nothing.

“I met him at a cafe…” The two now stopped looking at each other, both knowing that eye contact would only impede the story.

“It was… was” he was gaping at his own thoughts, there wasn’t quite a word about how he felt at that moment, “It was strange.” he decided to settle on. 

“Yes it was very strange seeing him after so long. He lost weight, his hair wasn’t shiny anymore. New wrinkles formed on his face. He seemed very tired. He asked me not to speak until he was done. So I didn’t.” Dokja bit his lip, the conversation he had bubbling to his mind. 

“He told me how he met my mother, how they fell in love and how happy he was when I was born.” Joonghyuk scoffed at that notion. It was understandable, how could the man who beat his son over and over, leaving the child limping and bruised on the floor ever be happy at his existence. 

“He wouldn’t have given you that name if he was so happy.” Joonghyuk spat. 

Dokja scowled. 

“Even if I don’t read it like that anymore, he gave me that name for a reason. He told me he wanted me to be strong by myself. Independent. He couldn’t have given it to me if he didn’t love me.”

Joonghyuk’s eyes widened at the notion. 

“Are you really defending him? Seriously?”
“Oh shut up Joonghyuk, this is my story.” Dokja snarled back, anger overblown by his narrative being taken over. “Reserve your judgment until it’s over.”

Joonghyuk bites his tongue and makes a vague silent gesture to continue. 

There is something lingering in the air, unsaid words, feelings, conclusions . Dokja didn’t break up with Joonghyuk because his father went on some trip down memory lane, they know that. Something happened during that conversation and Joonghyuk is going to pry it out of the other man. Patience. Patience is key. 

“Anyways, he told me he works as a mechanic now. Someone at the prison referred him. He got a new start.” Dokja preambles, trying to find the courage to share more. “He’s living a good life now, like nothing he ever did meant anything…or at least I think him meeting me was his last tie to his old life, you know. Uhh…he wanted closure before starting the rest of his life I think.” Closure was everything in situations like this, breakups, goodbyes, deaths , and Dokja didn’t want to deprive someone he loved of that completeness. But it was so hard . He’s talking around the issue, they both know it, but it was terrifying to face a mirror and look at the demon reflecting back in its eyes. Dokja bites his lip, hard enough to bleed, and picks at his hangnails, trying to make them bleed, but Joonghyuk takes his warm hands into cold fidgeting ones trying to gently coax his promised explanation. Joonghyuk wasn’t a patient man by nature, but for Dokja he would wait infinite lifetimes just to see him look back.

Dokja takes a deep breath, holding it in, and exhaling his worries out gently, letting them dissipate in the atmosphere. 

“He apologized to me.”

There is a hammering in his ears, but he continues anyway. 

“He apologized for the accident, leaving me an orphan, and his own emotional immaturity at managing his anger when he was a younger ignorant…father.” That last word chokes out of him, and Dokja can feel all the complex emotions he was locking away crash over him, the fear, guilt, and more importantly…. 

“I was so angry. Angry doesn’t even…I was enraged. I was a child, how dare he impose his stupid mismanaged emotions on me! What was the point of apologizing to me after so long, after everything was already said and done. It was just another way he imposed his will on me.” Dokja once again bites his lips, but this time he squeezes the hand that never stopped holding him.

“But Joonghyuk…I never knew I could experience such rage. It… I am so scared of myself.” A whisper, “ what if I hurt you too? ” 

Dokja wants to betray himself, break the unspoken agreement of full disclosure at the beginning of the conversation, to take back what he just said. How embarrassing it was to admit how he saw himself in his own monster. It sounds nonsensical now that he was admitting it out loud, he wasn’t his father was he? But he is. He is his father’s son and history is always, always doomed to repeat itself. 

“Joonghyuk… he loved my mom. He…he still loves me I think. He must have at least loved me when he gave me my name, or else why would he give me such a name? But he killed her, he hurt me, and Joonghyuk… I am just like him. Our hair color is the same, we take our coffee the same way, we both get horribly lost in new places, we both get so angry . ” He wants to cry, there are tears that needs to be shed but they’re unable to come forth because he has a goal in this conversation, so to mark his determination he looks up, at the eyes that were demanding him at the door, that were broken when he ended their relationship— Dokja looks Joonghyuk in his eyes.

“It’s not a matter of if I hurt you Joonghyuk, but when. In the future I will. Maybe not physically, god knows you’re a wall of muscle.” A dry laugh escapes him. “But I love you and after all this I know that my love can only be painful and I love you so so much Joonghyuk-ah I can’t bear it. If this is what love is, I don't want it.” It all comes out, every painful truth spilling like a tidal wave, destructive in its momentum forward. It surprises him, not in the rambling nature of his words but the words themselves he decided to use. Dokja shies away from the word love, preferring to settle in the private agreement between the two, the emotions they always have known the other felt in the small gestures, gifts, and soft kisses in the night, but today, right now, for a lack of a better word to name this feeling he settles on love because, what else could it be?

“It would be unfair for you, to force you to love someone who in the future will only cause you pain. I can’t have you bear that burden nor do I want to see you hurt by me.” Dokja releases the tangle of their hands and returns it to his face, hiding himself behind the wall he created between them and breaking the eye contact they once established.

“I don’t want to be with you, so I broke up with you, it’s that simple.” His cool monotone voice adds.

Silence. 

There is nothing but the vast expanse Dokja created between them, the illusions of spilling his guts out, laying his intestines, organs, heart, chest, ribs, his entire being out for Joonghyuk to look at, making sure he never gets close enough to inspect or touch. That’s what makes it an illusion, making sure he will never touch them, talk to them, absorb them: his own hands hiding his eyes made sure of that.

Except. 

There is something pulling at his fingers, something warm but calloused. Something he recognizes, something he's felt so often when they were just a tangle of limbs on their bed. Joonghyuk is digging, prodding, trying to break the wall he so carefully constructed. On instinct, Dokja flinches away, forgetting his position on the couch as he ungracefully plops on his side, his ear knocking against the arm. It hurt, and it was enough of a distraction that Joonghyuk is able to flip him on his back and lay on top of him, effectively using his body weight to pin him to the couch. Dokja still refuses to release the hands that are hiding his face so Joonghyuk devises another method. Warm moisture caresses the back of Dokja’s cold hand in a soft kiss. And it continues all throughout where his face would be, where his eyes would be, the corner of his lips, where his cheeks would be, how positively red they are. 

“I love you Dokja-yah,” another kiss. 

“I love you” kiss.

“Please look at me.” 

Joonghyuk attempts to wipe Dokja’s hand away and this time he's successful in his efforts, but the positively blushing man underneath him refuses any eye contact, choosing to turn his head to the side. Gently, as if he were picking up broken glass on the kitchen floor, he uses his thumb to wipe a runaway tear and goads the face to look up with his palm. 

“Get off of me.” Dokja glares above him, precariously returning the smiling downturned stare. His arms are weakly pushing against the strong chest above him, trying to accentuate his point and discomfort. The only response he gets is a deep chuckle and another soft kiss on his lips that send a startled Dokja reeling backwards further into the couch cushions. 

“I’m breaking up with you, stop kissing me!” 

“You still love me.” Joonghyuk’s eyes are positively shining at the statement, like nothing else in Dokja’s long emotionally draining speech meant anything to him except for that damn word. He gets up slightly, trapping Dokja’s head in his arms and letting his leg hang off the couch to make himself more comfortable, but still not letting the older man escape, because god knows once he bolts he will never look back. 

“Dokja we are going to hurt each other. Of course you fool, we will hurt each other. I want you to hurt me.” He brushes Dokja’s bangs away to get a clear look at his face. “I am terrified of the days I hurt you. Make you mad, make you hate me, make you hate yourself. But, Dokja-yah.” Dokja hates the honey sweet melty way Joonghyuk says his name, like something to cherish, not like the independent cold man his father hoped he would be. But then again, why does he hold that other meaning so dearly? 

Joonghyuk continues, “I don’t care about what you become, if you hurt me, I’ll embrace the monster you think you are and soothe you until you can recognize yourself again. Until you can have a glimpse of what I see. Please. I can’t live without you. You make my world so much brighter by existing and isn’t that all that matters? Isn’t that enough?” 

“What if I do something so horrible you can’t forgive me?” A meek voice responds.
A dopey smile splays across Joonghyuk.“That’s impossible.”

“Joonghyuk, seriously.” Dokja hates being placated like a child, and this question he posed is truly the root of the problem, he needs an answer.

Joonghyuk sighs, “I will never not feel this way Dokja. You’re an irritating cheeky brat, but you’re not unreasonable. If there is a line you cross we will talk about it like we always do, and it won’t diminish what we have no matter how your irrational brain spirals about it. And I will be there to reassure it that everything will be ok. I love you and you love me isn’t that enough?” He asks again. 

Dokja swallows the thick saliva that pooled in his mouth. His salvation, the words he so desperately wants to hear; ‘I love you,’ ‘please hurt me,’ ‘I don’t care what you become,’ they seem like razors now when they were once all that consumed him. For some reason, the reassurances he wants, needs, they can't penetrate his heart.

“It’s hard to believe you.” Dokja admits, looking away once more, and Joonghyuk again uses his palm to make the other turn back up, even if his eyes don't quite look back.

“Then I’ll say it as many times as you need, until one of those words hits you enough to realize, Dokja, how much I need you…” Another kiss to accentuate his point and a smile that's so bright Dokja thinks he’s looking at the sun. “ … because I'm a stubborn sunfish right?”

And Dokja laughs, the sort of gleeful laugh that only comes after a storm of tension, the laugh that lifts all his doubts temporarily, like clouds departing from the sun with a promise to come another day, but right now at the moment the clouds are gone and only the sunlight streams down on him. On them. And Dokja can't help but laugh until his tears come back and his chest is sore and Joonghyuk can only take in the sight of his star. They settle in a silence after Dokja’s breathing evens out and he can see again. 

There’s only one choice, one pathway from now on isn’t there? There’s only one way this could end. 

Dokja hooks his arm around the back of Joonghyuk’s neck, hugging him close to the crook of his neck, so that the startled breath rubs against his ear. 

“Ok Joonghyuk-ah, you win.” He pulls him closer so that their chests are flush against each other, desperate to absorb each other's warmth to be together and one. Everything else was left unsaid, an innate understanding; please hit me, hurt me, break down my walls so we can sit here in this moment together, please stay with me through my evilness and cherish me in my good, and I know I will do the same with you, and their breaths intermingle and their heat becomes one and they’re here again, together again. 

They lay like that, hoping for eternity, but definitely together in their mingling change and push and pull, but they are together in the way they scar each other and the way they need each other, and Dokja really thinks himself a fool for conceding so easily but he is a selfish man and Joonghyuk is letting him be selfish.

Only someone who loves him would do this.