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Yoo Joonhgyuk hated idiots. He was tired of being surrounded by and having to deal with the plentiful people that he had to see everyday.
He let out a sigh as he shouldered his bag. He climbed up the steps of student housing, a headache building as he climbed higher and higher.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the number of things that went wrong today. The gaming club members who pestered him into another competition, even though he was only in it as a noncommittal side hobby. The professors who nagged him to lead yet another student project he couldn’t give a fuck about. The students that kept holding him back from leaving campus sooner.
Although he didn’t usually mind, perhaps his exhaustion and growing irritation worsened the fact for him now. After all, he didn’t get much sleep last night after his stream, and he had more classes than usual today.
He fished his keys out of his jacket pocket, the material rustling in the dead quiet of the hallway. It was way past curfew, but luckily he’d gotten by without much of a notice — thanks to the entrance guard. Even though the bias annoyed Yoo Joonghyuk at times, he couldn’t help but be grateful for it now.
As expected the dorm was dark, and Yoo Joonghyuk switched on the lights. He leaned his forehead against the wall, taking his sweet time removing his shoes. Another onslaught of pounding in his head had his eyes squeezing shut. He took in a steadying breath.
He finally dragged himself over to his side of the room, taking a casual glance at his roommates area. He didn’t think much of it until he looked down at his own bed.
He froze all of a sudden, the sleepiness blinked clear from his eyes as he was more alert than ever now.
It was his roommate. His roommate in his bed, somehow. Asleep and softly snoring.
Soft, tousled hair covered his roommates face, bangs moving slightly with each breath. His curled up figure took the smallest space on the bed as the blanket practically devoured him.
Yoo Joonghyuk let his keys fall on the bedside table.
“Kim Dokja?” Yoo Joonghyuk tried, his eyebrows raised with confusion. Just what the hell happened to that guy in the last few hours?
He crouched down on his knees and rested his arms against the edge of the bed frame, leaning in closer.
“Kim Dokja,” he whispered.
The man slept on calmly, his face curtained and blocked off by a blanket and his own hair.
Yoo Joonghyuk frowned and tried again, speaking louder this time. “Kim Dokja?”
He shook his roommate awake several times — lightly, and then a little roughly. Kim Dokja might as well be dead right there, cold and lifeless in Yoo Joonghyuk’s bed with the way he was so unresponsive.
“Mmn,” Kim Dokja finally protested, shoving his face deeper into the blankets.
Thankfully, Kim Dokja wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least.
Yoo Joonghyuk eyed a nearby discarded pillow, wondering how long it would take to smother a person successfully.
He gave up the thought and sighed, dropping his head against the bedframe. He was way too tired to deal with this at 12 a.m. Too tired.
Yoo Joonghyuk finally raised his head with a newfound resolve. If he wanted to get any sleep tonight, he needed to get his bed freed up, and his drunk roommate to his own side of the room.
Barely had Yoo Joonghyuk touched him before Kim Dokja rolled around, a vivid blush coloring his cheeks. His face uncomfortably scrunched together, and his shut eyes trembled against the harsh overhead light. Despite everything, Yoo Joonghyuk found himself getting up to turn it off.
He switched on a smaller light beside his desk instead once he came back. It flickered and wavered for a few seconds, casting shadows against Kim Dokja’s slowly relaxing face.
“Kim Dokja. Are you drunk?”
There was, of course, no response. Only more incoherent mumbling followed.
Yoo Joonghyuk strained his ears to listen, only catching fragments of “squid” and “down with the tomatoes” and all sorts of things that only a fool like Kim Dokja could dream up.
Despite himself — again for the second time today — Yoo Joonghyuk found his hand raising up to brush his roommates' bangs back. It was an action done without much thought, like it was something that came easily to him.
Kim Dokja for his part adjusted way too easily. His head turned to the warmth of the outstretched palm, and he muzzled against it. A lazy smile overtook his face.
“Comfy,” he murmured in his sleep.
Kim Dokja’s strands of hair were soft, and Yoo Joonghyuk found his fingers tangling in them before he knew it. He’d always wanted to know what they felt like. Whether they were really as soft as they looked when Kim Dokja smiled and turned his way, or whether they were rough and harsh like the way when Kim Dokja glared at him.
Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly didn’t have the heart to wake his roommate up.
He found his knees growing sore, and he shifted them over to rest against the floor, his legs slightly splaying outwards as he readjusted his arms against the bed frame.
He rested his head against his left arm, while his right remained entwined with Kim Dokja’s hair. His hand slowly drifted down the side, tracing his roommate's temple down the arch of the cheekbone where the blush lay, and the prominent chin, mere inches away from the full lips.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand eventually slipped away and joined his other hand cradling his head. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but he was content.
He stared at Kim Dokja’s face for a little longer — only slightly tempted to pull at the guy’s cheeks hard or to maybe reconsider the pillow-smothering. He felt his body grow heavier, though, pulling him down.
Sleep found him quite easily that night.
***
By the time Yoo Joonghyuk woke up, Kim Dokja was long gone.
Yoo Joonghyuk was laid out against the floor, his pillow under his head and the same black blanket draped over his figure that was hogged by Kim Dokja the night before.
He assumed it was Kim Dokja’s doing — right before he left for his early morning classes.
He couldn’t help but smile, softly scoffing at the thought of a frantic Kim Dokja rushing around the dorm. Maybe he woke up late for class, too drunk and hungover from the night before. Maybe he panicked as he realized he woke up in a bed he didn’t usually sleep in. Maybe he lost it more when he finally spotted Yoo Joonghyuk on the floor.
Yoo Joonghyuk got up to fold the blanket and tidy his bed, and right as he thought that, the door slammed open as usual and Kim Dokja came in, breathless like always.
Yoo Joonhgyuk sighed. “Don’t slam the door open,” he repeated for what could’ve been the millionth time. For some reason, this roommate of his was always seen in a rush, always slamming doors open and acting hastily as if time was going to slip right through his fingers.
As he did the last million times, Kim Dokja waved him off. “The door is fine,” he offhandedly remarked, before finally shoving a grocery bag in his hand forward. He bowed deeply. “I’m so sorry, Joonghyuk-ah. So, so sorry! I was wrong, I apologize.”
Yoo Joonghyuk tossed the folded blanket on his bed, crossing his hands and leaning against the wall as he looked at Kim Dokja amusedly.
Kim Dokja raised his head, and a genuinely apologetic look on his face. A strand of hair fell down with the sudden movement — the bang that was too long and always getting in Kim Dokja’s way, Yoo Joonghyuk realized.
Kim Dokja impatiently blew it off without much thought.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes traced the movement of the hair to his lips, recalling the moments from last night that his sluggish brain had finally caught up with. The softness between his fingers, the lowlit shadows that highlighted the closeness between them, and their mingled breaths as they slept face to face.
He cleared his throat and turned away, moving to make his already made bed. “You’re finally sober?”
Kim Dokja winced behind him, hurriedly taking his shoes off as he came to Yoo Joonghyuk’s side.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” he pleaded, bending over Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. His breath ticklish against Yoo Joonghyuk’s ears. “Accept my apology, won’t you?”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand tightened on the sheets, crumpling them within his fingers. He straightened it out quickly before Kim Dokja looked down at it.
“Maybe if you sleep in your own bed tonight,” Yoo Joonghyuk plainly stated. He turned around slightly, looking at Kim Dokja who had finally backed away a few steps. “Bonus points if you're sober,” he teased.
Kim Dokja bit his lips and looked to the side, his growing embarrassment evident. “”Ahaha, you know I never get drunk!” He defended himself. “It was just a, uh, one-time thing.”
He diligently avoided Yoo Joonghyuk’s skeptical look.
“Ah, whatever! It was all Han Sooyoung’s doing.” He waved his hand around dismissively. “You know how she is.”
Kim Dokja moved to sit down on the floor cushion, taking out the contents of the grocery bag and placing them on the small coffee table. It was in the exact center of both their dorm rooms, effectively diving where Yoo Joonghyuk’s cleanliness ended and Kim Dokja’s messiness started.
As if to prove Yoo Joonghyuk’s point, Kim Dokja frowned and sat up slightly to remove the shirt he’d accidentally sat on. He looked at it for a few seconds, before tossing it behind him without a second thought. It hit the edge of his bed and slid off.
“So! Here, I got us both breakfast.” Kim Dokja waved jazz hands at the store bought kimbaps and drinks set against the table. He even dutifully poked a straw into Yoo Joonghyuk’s plain milk before his own strawberry milk. He carefully slid the drink in Yoo Joonghyuk’s direction.
Yoo Joonghyuk huffed out a laugh before seating himself on his own floor cushion. “For the most important meal of the day, it sure doesn’t look the part.”
Kim Dokja waved him off, a straw in his mouth as he drank his sugary monstrosity. “Yoo Joonghyuk, it’s all a scam — the idea of breakfast. As a broke college student, have some mercy on me, won’t you?’
Yoo Joonghyuk unwrapped his kimbap in response and bit into it, locking eyes with Kim Dokja who smiled at him.
“See, you always say that you won’t eat food made by others, yet you always end up eating the things I buy or make.” He paused in his sentence, adding sheepishly, “or try to make anyway. You didn’t have to force yourself to try my burnt rice the other day.”
Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him and continued washing down the dry food with milk. He didn’t want to bring up the disastrous meal from that day, to which he still got phantom shivers from just thinking about it.
“Only you could manage to mess up something that easy.”
Kim Dokja scoffed. “Everyone makes mistakes!”
Yoo Joonghyuk pointedly glanced at him, taking another bite. “Some more than others.”
Kim Dokja rolled his eyes, disregarding the remark and moving on. “Admit it! You secretly like the food I get for you, right, right?”
He grinned and his hand reached across the table, the back of it bumping against Yoo Joonghyuks. Knuckles against knuckles; warmth against the cold. The equivalent of an elbow nudge.
Yeah. As long as it came from Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk would always like it. Even if he vehemently spoke otherwise.
“Of course not. Shut up and eat, Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja smiled knowingly one last time, his arm dropping off the table. He hurriedly shoved his kimbap down.
Light filtered in through the windows, the warmth crawling over and spreading through the room. Muffled conversations came to life through the thin walls of the student housing, carrying around incessantly as background noise. The radio played somewhere, cars started outside, and Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja ate together in comfortable silence, bathed in the golden morning light.
***
“Joonghyuk-ah?” Kim Dokja looked up at the door, the bell jingling away into silence as a new customer stepped in.
Kim Dokja was bent over the counter, doing homework during this shift. In his defense, it was a pretty easy-going shift, he’d only had 4 customers in the past hour. That was grounds for him to pull out missing assignments and get started on them.
Yoo Joonghyuk stepped in and let the door close shut behind him. He looked around like he hadn’t been here thousands of times before, and then he finally looked at Kim Dokja. He held up a tote bag. “Lunch. You skipped again, didn’t you?”
Kim Dokja looked at him sheepishly, but broke out into a grin anyway. “Ah, Joonghyuk-ah, what would I do without you, hm?”
Kim Dokja pushed himself off the counter and made his way over to where Yoo Joonghyuk was already setting up the food. He took a seat on the high top chairs by the window, twirling around in them as he waited.
“Say, don’t you have assignments or stuff to be doing right now?” Kim Dokja poked at his friend’s elbow.
Yoo Joonghyuk looked down at Kim Dokja as he took his own seat. He opened the bento box and picked out a silver pair of chopsticks, passing them over to Kim Dokja.
“Oh my, did you make this yourself again?” Kim Dokja looked at the ketchup scribbled squid onto the rice, admiring it. He took out his phone to snap a quick picture.
“If you know I’m busy, learn to take care of yourself better.”
Kim Dokja snapped another picture and looked up. “Ah come on, where’s the fun in that?” He grinned. “Maybe I just like having you worry about me.”
Yoo Joonghyuk rolled his eyes and turned to his bag. He pulled out his laptop and glasses case.
“Ah, what’s this? You really have assignments?” Kim Dokja asked, his mouth stuffed full and words barely understandable.
“Swallow before talking.”
Kim Dokja swallowed over-exaggeratedly, as if to make a point. “So, you have assignments?”
“I’m a university student, Kim Dokja. I have assignments to complete.”
Kim Dokja let the chopsticks clatter onto the box as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, a shocked expression on his face. “Really truly? No way! I’m one too. What department are you from, fellow student?”
Yoo Joonghyuk huffed at the childish comment, but played along anyway. “Computer science. And what department might you be in, fellow student?”
Kim Dokja nodded, swallowing a bite of food in his mouth as Yoo Joonghyuk took out the glasses and put them on.
“Computer science?” Kim Dokja hummed praisingly. “As expected of you. Handsome, smart, and bound to be rich after graduation. What a catch you are, bastard.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s lip curved up, but he didn’t say anything as he logged in and accessed his assignment.
“Me, on the other hand.” Kim Dokja sighed. “A literature major. I know I know, I’ll be homeless and broke for the rest of my life.” He waved his hand around exasperatedly. He heard the same phrase one too many times from others.
Yoo Joonghyuk hummed from the side, interested all of a sudden. “Literature?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know.”
“Shocking, isn’t it?”
“I think it suits you quite well. Handsome, smart, and quite a catch.” Yoo Joonghyuk repeated the words back to him, his voice uttered in the same plain and honest tone as always.
Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t even looking at him, his eyes fixed on the screen as lines of code appeared on the reflection of his glasses. It made for quite a pleasing visual, along with the words that he’d blatantly said.
Kim Dokja cleared his throat and pressed on, pretending like the pause he took wasn’t a second longer than usual. “You think I didn’t notice how you left out the rich part, bastard? Come on, don’t look down at your fellow student like that.”
Yoo Joonghyuk let out a low laugh, shaking his head softly.
Yoo Joonghyuk was soon lost in his own world, behind the lines of code and functions that Kim Dokja couldn’t even begin to fathom. There was a serious look on his face as he leaned forward, prominent forearms against the edge of the counter and the white scars that lined up against it.
Kim Dokja watched from the side, pulling out the strawberry milk from the grocery bag and inserting a straw. He stared dazedly at Yoo Joonghyuk, his eyelashes flickering as he watched his friend. The evening glow filtered through the windows and coated the two of them. The store was otherwise silent, only occasionally interrupted by the clicking of the keyboard.
In Kim Dokja’s mind, the phrase about wishing to stop time — framing a particular moment forever — flashed quickly. His mouth quirked up. So this is what that meant?
He propped his chin up on the palm of his hand, staring more determinedly at his friend. It was as if staring could allow him to sear the image in the back of his mind. Forever and ever.
“Something wrong?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked from the side. He turned to look at him briefly, his gaze intent.
“Ah?” Kim Dokja startled.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s gazed moved down to the drink in Kim Dokja’s hands. Still completely full.
“You’re not going to drink?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.
Kim Dokja finally set his lips on the straw, slowly drinking it. Yoo Joonghyuk nodded and went back to his assignment.
Kim Dokja looked around the empty store, even leaning back slightly in his chair to look across the front desk counter into the backroom. There were no other coworkers, and his boss wasn’t here to supervise today. He looked outside at the passing people. Kids, parents, the elderly. Though, not one of them turned to look the convenience store’s way.
Kim Dokja selfishly took advantage of that, bringing his own homework over and working on it. He typed his essay while Yoo Joonghyuk worked on his project. Their elbows gently knocked against each other a few times. Close enough to brush, yet not close enough for it to hurt.
Neither moved away, and Kim Dokja silently let the smile on his face grow.
***
With no family to send him off, Kim Dokja had just taken the subway with his backpack and cardboard box in hand. This was all right before his freshman year of university officially started.
He’d graduated high school only a few months prior, and now he was already getting ready to head off to college. The thought of such a huge milestone occurring in his life and no one being there for him . . .
Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Everyone went to college these days, so really, getting in and deciding to go wasn’t such a big deal.
The train’s tracks screeched to a halt and he stepped across the platform to get inside, along with the multitude of other office workers or salarymen. Despite it being early morning, there were still many people up and active. That was Seoul for you, after all.
Luckily, he’d found a free seat. He took advantage of the fact and sat down, stuffing his backpack under the seat and readjusting the large box of stationery and essentials in his hands.
He’d just visited his university dorms last week, but he’d only dropped by to settle a few things. He left immediately after that, never getting the chance to familiarize himself with the campus or his roommate, for that matter.
The night before today, he’d stayed up reading web novels. In retrospect, it wasn’t a good idea — not when he had to leave early the next day. Yet, he’d still made it here on time, and found a seat at that too. So, he could take a nap now, at least.
He allowed himself to nod off, not worried about potentially missing his stop as drowsiness pulled him under. He only vaguely sensed the incoming and oncoming passengers as the subway traveled, and the seats beside him that vacated and filled with each stop.
At some point, his awareness tanked and the slight grip he held onto consciousness plummeted. With that, his head tipped violently forward, his body too weak to catch himself in time.
There was an audible smack only half a second later, and a sting that lasted for good while. His face burned and his feet were planted rigidly against the ground. The box in his hand was still held tightly and everything seemed fine. For a few seconds at least.
The stranger that had caught Kim Dokja’s face with the palm of his hand immediately let go without a warning, to which Kim Dokja plummeted forward once again and smashed his face into the box.
To this day, he didn’t know what the man was thinking. All Kim Dokja knew was by the time he rubbed his face and looked up, the man had already crossed his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. In some faked mediation or shit.
Kim Dokja stared at him hard.
The man ignored him.
The two sat rigidly by each other, both feeling awkward over the same situation, praying that the other would leave for another stop before theirs.
Kim Dokja didn’t spare another glance at the man, keeping his gaze to the front. His posture was a lot more stiff and alert now.
As soon as his stop came, he rushed out without a second look behind, gathering his box and pushing through the crowd. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the red battery percentage on top as he cursed himself out.
After a night of binging, he barely had any battery left. On top of that, he was unfamiliar with this place so getting there would take some time. The only thing to be glad about was the mid-afternoon bustle on the streets, strangers crossing his path from each and every place. At the very least, the chances of him getting mugged were low. Not impossible, but low.
He crossed through the snaking alleyways and the questionable looking streets. The number of people slowly dwindled by, and with it fell his spirits.
Soon, it was quiet and he felt like the only person around. His footsteps were uncertain against the concrete, and soon, he heard the crunching footsteps of another behind him. Kim Dokja was alert — despite the ache in his legs and the stiffness in his body. He gripped the cardboard box tighter, walking faster.
He looked down at the map on his phone. Only a few more minutes and he’d soon be in a more heavily populated area.
The footsteps behind him sensed his rush, and they also grew to catch up with him. The crunching of the gravel grew closer and closer. Kim Dokja’s grip on the cardboard box tightened.
Finally, he registered a low voice behind him. Not fully hearing the words, he turned violently on his heels. The cardboard box in his hand swung along with him, catching the stranger across the chest and stomach.
There was an ‘oomph’ as the man hunched over, but Kim Dokja barely registered it before he raised the cardboard box a little higher. He was just about ready to bring it down when the stranger coughed sharply and thrust his right hand out.
Kim Dokja’s movements paused, and he looked at his backpack held in the strangers hand.
Kim Dokja blinked at it. His face scrunched together as he tried to remember, and surely, it was his backpack. The one he’d left behind as he’d rushed out if the subway.
There were an awkward few moments of silence as the man straightened up, a deep scowl on his face.
It was the subway man. The one who caught his face.
“Ah . . .” Kim Dokja trailed off, words seemingly escaping down this throat.
The man looked down at the box in Kim Dokja’s hands, his face complicated. “Were you . . . you were going to attack me. With that.”
At the ripe age of 19, Kim Dokja was feeling suicidal for the second time in his life. If only he could disappear and bury with his dead body the ordeals of today.
Kim Dokja looked down at the flimsy cardboard box, and then back up at the expectant man, dressed in all black. Black baseball cap, black full-sleeved shirt, black jeans, black shoes. Who was this man kidding?? Following him around like some damn terrorist. “Of course not! I just happened to, uh, turn a little more aggressively then normal . . . ?”
The man raised an eyebrow and said nothing more, shoving his hands into his pocket and walking ahead. Kim Dokja was left blushing head to toe, embarrassment clawing at his insides. As if the whole subway situation wasn’t embarrassing enough, the universe had to send this man his way again. Again!
Kim Dokja eventually let out a breath and calmed the shaking in his knees. He opened the map on his phone once more and started walking. Just a little bit more.
It didn’t take too long before he entered the busy streets, and then finally campus. He looked around in a daze at the thousands of students walking past as the familiarized themselves with each other. The cultural activities spanned the campus lawn, and hundreds of colorful, uniformed students passed, offering flyers.
There were registration stations set inside and orientations happening constantly around. It was quite refreshing, and aside from the disastrous morning and late night sleepiness, he felt more alive and awake than ever.
He looked around in awe as he walked, acting like he hadn’t grown up in Seoul all his life. He was partly to blame when he bumped into a stocky man up front.
“Oh, I’m so–”
The apology died on Kim Dokja’s tongue as he looked at the man standing in front of him His arms crossed and legs planted firmly like he’d been waiting for Kim Dokja the whole time.
There was an unpleasant expression on both their faces, and they spoke at once.
“You, again.”
“It’s you!”
Their faces scrunched with displeasure, both scrutinizing the other.
“Did you follow me,” the subway man deadpanned.
Kim Dokja looked at him and then at the backpack strapped across the man’s back. In his hands, the man held the same brochure that Kim Dokja was given by a club organizer just a few minutes prior.
“Please,” Kim Dokja huffed. “If anything, you followed me first.”
“I was returning your bag back to you.”
“It took you that long to do that?” Kim Dokja asked skeptically. “You could’ve just given it to me as you stepped off the platform.”
The man’s face twitched. “I would if I could. You rushed out.”
Kim Dokja coughed twice. Yeah, he did do that. “Still! During that, what, 15 minute walk? During those 15 minutes you couldn’t catch up?”
“I would, if I could,” the man gritted out again. “Like I said. You rushed off.”
Kim Dokja looked him up and down one last time. “Well, thanks for that.” He nudged the shoulder his backpack was on. “I’ll get going, then. Just to prove I haven’t been stalking your or anything,” he couldn’t help but sarcastically add on.
To spare the atrociously horror-worthy details, the two of them did run into each other later on. Surprise surprise, they found out they were roommates. It took a few weeks of skepticism, duct tape boundary lines, and printed contractual agreements — but they were finally able to grow closer. To the point where they would spend the next three years sharing dorms with the other.
Now, they were in their final year of college, and familiar enough to stop by each other’s workplaces and bring food for the other.
Kim Dokja twirled around in his chair, his head tipped back as he blankly stared off at the ceiling above. The crappy plastic stars he’d stuck up there, with Yoo Joonghyuk’s help, during their first year here still remained. It was a little nostalgic thinking about it. It unknowingly brought a smile to his face.
He turned around in his chair and looked behind at Yoo Joonghyuk’s back as he sat at his own desk.
Straight and poised as ever, Yoo Joonghyuk diligently typed away on his computer. Compared to him, Kim Dokja was absolutely ass at staying focused for too long. He would fidget or let his mind wander until it reached the most unreasonable of places.
“Joonghyuk-ah, are you done yet?”
Some more typing filled the silence, and Kim Dokja waited.
“Joonghyuk-ie?”
There was more typing, and a delayed hum.
Kim Dokja took it as a sign to push himself off the desk and slide in his chair halfway across the short room. He collided with the coffee table and jumped off, walking over to where Yoo Joonghyuk sat.
Kim Dokja looked down at him from above, a frown on his face as he tried to analyze the lines of code Yoo Joonghyuk was working on for a project. There seemed to be some sort of syntax error that kept repeating, and it was bothering his roommate to no end.
Kim Dokja leaned in closer, his head right next to Yoo Joonghyuk’s. “Do you need help?”
Yoo Joonghyuk startled and quickly turned, jumping a little. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened as the two stared at each other, up close and caught off guard.
Kim Dokja cleared his throat and turned his head. His feet felt glued to the ground, and even if he wanted to, it was hard to bring himself to completely move. “Are you having trouble with it?”
Yoo Joonghyuk slowly moved his gaze back to the computer, blinking as if to clear his head. “Yeah. There’s a syntax error I keep running into, and I can’t figure out which line the error is in.”
“Let’s go out for a walk.”
Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him, but this time Kim Dokja had moved to sit on the edge of Yoo Joonghyuk’s bed. Still, they were only a few inches apart this way — dorm facilities being small and close together, after all.
“What?”
“You said it yourself.” Kim Dokja shrugged. “When you’re having trouble doing something, you should step back and give it a rest.”
It turns out, it didn’t take much convincing. Yoo Joonghyuk only had to be nudged a few times before he begrudgingly put on his shoes and set foot out of the door, with Kim Dokja trailing after him.
It was a nice day, and honestly, Kim Dokja was just looking for an excuse to get out. The only thing was he didn’t want to be alone, so who better to drag along than Yoo Joonghyuk?
“Speaking of,” Kim Dokja started. “Breaks coming up. You going home?”
The soft cherry blossom petals were crushed under Yoo Joonghyuk’s feet, staining the ground.
“Mm. Yoo Mia’s waiting for me to come back.”
“Oh?” Kim Dokja laughed. “Isn’t she going through her rebellious teenage phase right now. Does she really need her older brother?”
Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Kim Dokja. “Deep down, I know she loves me.”
In the calm of the walkway, with nothing but the rustling on trees, Kim Dokja’s laugh rang out pleasantly.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Kim Dokja cheekily added. “She probably said something like ‘stay at your own place. I’m fine with my friends her.’ And you ignored her anyway.”
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t refute, only further proving Kim Dokja’s point.
Kim Dokja’s smile softened though, and he looked down at the sidewalk as he kicked away at stray pebbles. “She really does care for you, though. She still sends me the occasional text every other day, asking whether you’ve eaten or not. Sometimes I have to wonder which sibling is taking care of which,” he joked. But his voice was full of fondness, so there was no mocking undertone.
Yoo Joonghyuk seemed surprised, and the hands that were tucked into his pocket came out to dangle freely. “She texts you?”
“To ask about you, yeah.” Kim Dokja rolled his eyes. “But, she does seem to like me more for sure.”
Yoo Joonghyuk huffed, his face softening. “Sure, whatever you say, Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja moved a few inches to the left, the right side of his arm brushing against Yoo Joonghyuk’s in a nudge. Even after that, he didn’t move away.
It felt warmer than usual, Yoo Joonghyuk thought. He looked to the other side, where cars passed by and open mall stores lined the street. His ears and neck felt hotter, and the skin on his arm that repeatedly brushed against Kim Dokja’s was practically burning.
It was still nice. Really nice, they both thought.
***
“Joonghyuk-ah! You won’t take a picture with me?”
Yoo Joonghyuk turned around and caught sight of Kim Dokja smiling widely. His black gown flowed freely in the wind, and he struggled to hold onto both his cap and certificate.
Yoo Joonghyuk lowered his head, allowing a small smile, before walking over. The dewy grass left imprints on his freshly polished shoes, but he found that he didn’t mind so much — not right now, at least.
“You finally remembered me?” Yoo Joonghyuk spoke as he approached.
Kim Dokja tilted his head to the side inquiringly.
Yoo Joonghyuk raised his head, turning his chin up in the way of the students who’d taken a photo with Kim Dokja just moments prior.
Kim Dokja followed the gaze, and couldn’t help but snicker at what his friend was indicating.
He turned back and tsked gently. “Did I make my best friend wait for too long? Ah, what can I do.” He sighed. “Me being this popular sure is painful for us both.”
Yoo Joonghyuk huffed, shaking his head as he turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with Kim Dokja. He hadn’t noticed before, but either he grew or his friend had shrunk. He found himself looking down at Kim Dokja more easily than before.
From here, Kim Dokja’s long strands obscured the top half of his face, only leaving enough space to see the tip of his straight nose and the arch of his lips.
Yoo Joonghyuk bent down slightly, turning his head to the left to speak easily into Kim Dokja’s ear. “You called me over readily, but who’s going to take our photo?”
Kim Dokja froze underneath him and his breathing hitched.
“Oh, uh. That’s a good question.” Kim Dokja cleared his throat and started looking around at the happily occupied students and their families. It seemed like everyone was too caught up within their own matters.
Yoo Joonghyuk calmly watched Kim Dokja from above. From this angle, he saw the slow roll of Kim Dokja’s adam’s apple.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes traced the movement, lingering at the spot until he felt his own throat dry up.
Kim Dokja obliviously continued looking around.
It was harder to find people when everyone around them was so occupied. Some students around them cried, whether it was tears of joy at leaving or genuine sadness over leaving behind their memories, one could only wonder. After all, 4 years was a lot of time for things to take place, for friendships to build, and for feelings to develop . . .
He only slightly tilted his chin up, acknowledging the presence hovering over him.
Yoo Joonghyuk gave an inquiring hum, but Kim Dokja shook his head and started looking around again. He cleared his throat a little more than necessary.
“How much longer are you going to look, Kim Dokja? It won’t make someone miraculously appear.”
Kim Dokja only softly knocked their elbows together in reply.
He continued to look around even after the remark. His gaze finally caught on a particular family, and lingered on the scene for longer than usual.
A father fussed over his outfit as he stood next to his son. The father and son duo finally faced the camera and smiled, but as the picture was clicked the father turned to fuss over his son’s clothes all of a sudden.
There was exasperation in the son’s movements, and passed back conversations between the two that Kim Dokja couldn’t hear from here.
The mom fondly smiled, lowering the camera poised in her hand as she spoke over the short distance. Whatever she said, it managed the ease the whole family up once again as they started smiling and laughing again.
Finally, the mother clicked a photo of them, before running over to them and flipping the camera around. The three of them took a selfie, smiling brightly.
Kim Dokja smiled faintly, reminded about the absence of his own parents from his life. It felt lonely at times, especially for milestones such as these. But still . . .
Yoo Joonghyuk also followed Kim Dokja’s gaze, watching the scene in front of him for a few short seconds. Without looking away from it, his hand moved to brush against Kim Dokja’s.
There was a slight tingle as their knuckles softly knocked against each others.
The family walked away soon enough, but Kim Dokja was still left staring at the space they previously occupied.
“Phone?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked from above. He didn’t wait for a reply before his fingers reached into Kim Dokja’s pocket to pull it out.
Kim Dokja turned his head, startled, but he wasn’t given enough time to protest.
Yoo Joonghyuk raised the phone and opened the camera, adjusting it in his hand awkwardly. “Ready?” He asked.
Kim Dokja’s eyes met his through the camera. Realization made his shoulders ease up and posture more relaxed. He couldn’t help but faintly smile.
“I didn’t know you were that desperate to take a photo with me, Joonghyuk-ah.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips set in their familiar firm line, but Kim Dokja still saw the amusement in his eyes. “I recall someone else asking to take one first.”
Kim Dokja raised his eyebrows innocently. “They must’ve really wanted to take a photo with you, then. The unsmiling Supreme King, Yoo Joonghyuk. Could you imagine the amount of courage they must’ve gathered?”
“This person seems to have no problem bothering me at other times.”
Kim Dokja opened his mouth to say something else, but Yoo Joonghyuk cut him to it.
“Shut up and smile, Kim Dokja.”
When did Kim Dokja ever listen, though?
The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving only the two standing in the open grassy field. Kim Dokja rose to his toes. A hurried whisper later the photo was finally clicked.
Yoo Mia would later ask about it, years down the line. Pointing at the small frame that rested at the center of their coffee table, she would ask, “Why would you frame such a blurry photo?”
And Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk would look up from where they were tangled together on the couch. Kim Dokja would reach for the remote to lower the tv’s volume, and Yoo Joonghyuk would reply in his stead.
“Just because.”
Only the two of them knew the words spoken that day, the words which they’d recorded onto the back of the photo in messy black ink.
The confession from Kim Dokja that neither of them would forget — date and time to pair with it.
Yoo Mia took one last look at the photo.
The sunlight had filtered through it quite nicely, illuminating the smiles that rivaled it. Kim Dokja’s was bright and, for once, even Yoo Joonghyuk obliged. It was subtle, his lips barely raised to even call it as such, but it reached his eyes anyway.
The very last second, before Yoo Joonghyuk’s finger could click on the button, Kim Dokja had pushed up on his toes and sprang up. He’d tilted his head to the side, knocking their graduation caps together. It added a slight blur to the photo, but they’d kept and framed it regardless, because what was it if not wholly and authentically them?
“It’s a nice photo,” Yoo Mia suddenly deduced.
Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk looked at each other on the couch. They exchanged a smile.
“It’s quite nice,” they both agreed.
***