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Girls. Crushes. First kisses. Dates.
It started maybe a few months ago, their first year of high school, when boys around them started talking about these things more often.
Back then, none of this seemed to be a problem for Kim Dokja. After all, Yoo Joonghyuk took no interest in that kind of talk, and Kim Dokja himself didn’t care for it.
Kim Dokja had always thought him and Yoo Joonghyuk were above that. Growing up, their mind had always been preoccupied by books and video games respectively. The time they spent with each other was quite simple: both doing their own things while having each other close by for company.
Their conversations often stayed short and to the point — aside from the occasional bickering or arguing. And maybe that would’ve seemed boring to many, but not to Kim Dokja. He treasured their friendship. To the point where he couldn’t imagine a day where Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t be at his side.
Years passed by like that, and the two of them only needed each other and no one else. The thought itself glowed warmly in Kim Dokja’s heart; the thought of being someone important to Yoo Joonghyuk.
And then there was that one summer day.
They had walked down to the convenience store to grab cheap popsicles, and sat side by side on the swings in a nearby park as they let the cold flavors grace their tongue, a soothing relief from the harshness of the overhead sun.
“Have you ever liked someone?” Yoo Joonghyuk had asked. It was during their last summer vacation of middle school.
Kim Dokja had turned to look at him, a look of bewilderment on his face. His popsicle slipped out of his mouth and his hand had barely caught it in time.
“Liked?” Kim Dokja repeated. The question took a little longer to sink in.
Kim Dokja, of course, knew what it meant to like someone. It’s just that he’d never thought so deeply about it before. He had no reason to.
Like. As in having feelings for someone.
Yoo Joonghyuk cleared his throat, moving his gaze away from Kim Dokja to the front. He idly kicked against the ground for a bit, the harsh scratching of his soles against the mulch on the ground.
Nearby the loud delighted cries of toddlers echoed through the air as they slid down the slides, and more rowdy children played hide and seek nearby. Parents were engaged in their own conversations to the side.
The two of them paid no attention to that though.
“Have you?” Yoo Joonghyuk looked quite awkward, but he had dared to continue the conversation anyway.
Kim Dokja grasped the chains on his swings tighter. His lips pursued as he thought. “No, not really.”
The creaking of the swings filled in the silence between for the next few seconds. It felt like they were in their own bubble. Like they’d always been separate from everyone around them.
“I see,” Yoo Joonghyuk finally said.
Kim Dokja wondered what had spurred this conversation. Was Yoo Joonghyuk trying to tell him something? He looked over at his ever stoic faced friend, narrowing his eyes as he tried to discern between the frown lines.
Yoo Joonghyuk gave him a weird look and turned away once again, ignoring him.
“Why? Do you like someone?” Kim Dokja finally asked.
By now, remnants of the liquified popsicle ran down his hand, coating it with stickiness.
Kim Dokja raised to lick it off, unaware of Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze on him.
By the time he’d lifted his head, Yoo Joonghyuk had looked the other way and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I think so,” he’d said.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
That was the first time something uncomfortable had unfurled in Kim Dokja’s chest. A feeling that he neither wanted to acknowledge nor think about for any longer. He buried it down as much as he could, covering it up again and again until it could never see the light of day.
“I see,” Kim Dokja whispered.
He wanted to ask. He wanted to know. Thousands of questions rested at the tip of his tongue, as his mind and heart battled out whether they should be said out loud or kept to himself and locked away.
Is it Lee Seolhwa? How long have you liked her? Are you going to do something about it?
Lee Seolhwa had stopped by their classroom several times before, sneaking glances in Yoo Joonghyuk’s direction. It wasn’t any different than the thousands of other girls who did the same, but for some reason Yoo Joonghyuk chose to look up at her. Chose to acknowledge her.
But worst of all, there was just one doubt that ate away at Kim Dokja’s heart, drowning out all his other concerns.
What about me?
***
Kim Dokja had class duty today, and he held the duster in his hand as he tried wiping off the blackboard. He hated this task the most. His growth spurt had yet to come in, and he was always left straining his hand to reach the top — even on his toes.
He’d cleaned the blackboard for the most part, save for the few lines that he’d failed to erase near the top.
He heard the clatter of a broom behind him, and light footsteps that grew closer and closer.
The person made their way over and swiftly grabbed Kim Dokja’s waist with their left hand, lowering him off of his toes while their right hand plucked the eraser from his,
The faint laundered scent of lemon enveloped him, and Kim Dokja took in a comforting breath out of habit.
He looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk from the side, watching as his friend easily reached up and cleaned the last of the board. His jaw was clenched as he looked up, and Kim Dokja noticed how his facial structure in general had changed a lot.
He noticed it for the first time — how Yoo Joonghyuk was the first to lose the baby fat they’d both grown up with. Traces of Yoo Joonghyuk’s middle school self still shone through, but throughout their high school years it had developed into something else. The temper still remained though. Quite prominent. And the ever so present frown lines as well.
Kim Dokja raised his hand and flicked Yoo Joonghyuk’s forehead. “Don’t frown, sunfish. You’ll get wrinkles earlier.”
Yoo Joonghyuk threw the eraser down onto the board’s edge and turned to look at Kim Dokja. The hand on his waist squeezed lightly, before dropping back down.
“You fool. If you needed help, you could’ve just asked.”
Kim Dokja looked at him for a few seconds. He huffed and turned around, crossing the room to pick up the discarded broom. He began sweeping as Yoo Joonghyuk walked over.
“Leave it. Don’t do my portion of class duty,” he insisted. He reached out his hand to take it away.
Kim Dokja swatted at his hand and resumed what he was doing. “You helped me, let me do your part now.”
Yoo Joonghyuk sighed, grabbing at the handle of the broom more firmly this time. His fingers grazed Kim Dokja’s lightly. “No need. Just get your stuff ready so we can leave. Wait for me.”
Kim Dokja’s backpack was already packed. He always did so right after class ended so that he and Yoo Joonghyuk could leave earlier together after. So really, he didn’t have anything left to do.
He stuck out his tongue and took a seat at his desk, swinging his legs over the ends of his chair.
“You’ve been distracted today,” Yoo Joonghyuk commented.
Kim Dokja stared at the back of his friends head. He finally collapsed onto the back of his chair, pillowing his head in his arms.
“Was not.”
Yoo Joonghyuk huffed out a laugh, glancing back for a quick second. “Is something on your mind?”
There were, truthfully, many things on his mind. Some being as mundane as waiting for his web novel updates, and others more . . .
Thoughts of this morning entered into his head again. Lee Seolhwa had met the two of them at the entrance gate, waving all excitedly — then again that was her whole persona. She had looped her arm through Yoo Joonghyuk’s when he approached, whispered in his ear, and then left with another wave. Because the two of them were in student council together, they often had to talk about things in between.
Kim Dokja didn’t catch anything — she left as quickly as she came. Yet it had bothered him all the same.
“Kim Dokja?”
Kim Dokja lifted his head from his arms. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”
Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, moving further away across the room to sweep the corners. “You should’ve slept earlier then, rather than staying up to read.”
It irritated Kim Dokja all of a sudden, and he dropped his face back down again. “Forget it,” he mumbled.
“Fool,” Yoo Joonghyuk sighed.
With Yoo Joonghyuk’s back to him, Kim Dokja raised his hands and pretend to throttle the air around his neck.
Despite being friends for 10 years, there were so many things about Yoo Joonghyuk that he disliked. He could spend days making alphabetized spreadsheets and power point presentations detailing it all out.
His arrogance, his condescending personality, his stubborn urge to always be right about everything — his audacity to actually be right about most things. And, of course, the infuriating way he treated Kim Dokja sometimes. Along with calling him a fool for every minor inconvenience.
He couldn’t help but frown the more he thought about it.
Yet, Kim Dokja couldn’t help himself from being drawn. Over and over again, no matter how many years had passed. No matter how many petty arguments they’d had, no matter how stubborn they were, at the end of the day, they always found their way back to each other.
“Stop thinking, fool,” Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly spoke.
“I’m not thinking about anything.”
“Yes, you are. I can hear your loud thoughts.”
Kim Dokja lifted his head and slapped his hands over his ears. He quickly stuck out his tongue to Yoo Joonghyuk’s back before his friend turned around.
“Let’s go?” Yoo Joonghyuk set the broom against the wall.
Kim Dokja shouldered his backpack.
The two of them walked down the steep hill, cherry blossom petals flowering them from the trees that lined the streets. They exited school grounds and made their way into the alleys, coming across the many people going about their day. The setting sun cast a golden glow all around, softening the city and making the atmosphere more relaxed.
Street vendors at stalls excitedly sold goods as customers walked by. Pleasant conversations filled the air, accompanying the wafts of sugary desserts and contrasting spicy foods.
It was quite busy, and the plentiful people pushing into them shoved the two closer. Their arms dangled side by side, and the backs of their hands brushed against each others with each step.
Kim Dokja felt the tingle from the contact.
Even as they exited the busy part of the city, heading into the desolate and open streets, the two didn’t move apart.
“You don’t have to pick up your sister today?” Kim Dokja asked. Usually the two of them would take another route in between, the one that led to the elementary school where Yoo Joonghyuk’s sister would wait for them. They had passed by that route a few seconds ago.
They crossed the bridge. An expanse of water stretched at their side, reflecting the orange glow of the sun and sparkling with life.
“She’s with my aunt today.”
Kim Dokja nodded and didn’t say anything more. They walked in an amicable silence until they finally reached their apartment complex. Kim Dokja waved his hand and took his leave, making his way up the stairs since he lived on a higher up floor, while Yoo Joonghyuk resided at the bottom.
He only climbed up a flight when Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly called out.
“Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja turned around and walked down a few steps, leaning over the railing to look at where Yoo Joonghyuk stood. He sent an inquiring look down his friend’s way.
Yoo Joonghyuk looked up at him. His hand grabbed at the strap of his school bag while the other fisted by his side. There was the familiar furrow to his eyebrows, and his lips which were pressed thin. Kim Dokja’s eyes followed down to his Adam's apple, which bobbed as he swallowed.
“Is everything okay?” Kim Dokja asked, worried all of a sudden.
Yoo Joonghyuk kept looking at him, an indescribable hardness behind his eyes. It didn’t seem like he was mad, only like he’d decided something with immense resolve.
“Lee Seolhwa . . .” Yoo Joonghyuk began.
The insistent chirping of the crickets outside slowed to a halt.
“Would you be okay if I . . . asked her out?”
The world had quieted down around them. The sounds of cars moving across the gravel outside and the chirping crickets heard just seconds prior had disappeared. Yet, each second trickled by painfully loud as they looked at each other.
“What?”
The warmth and humidity of the air wrapped around Kim Dokja, creeping up and across as it constricted him with each breath. Somehow coldness numbed him from inside all the same.
Yoo Joonghyuk blinked up at him. He waited for a response.
Kim Dokja swallowed dryly, his throat parched. “Lee Seolhwa?”
His hands twitched uselessly at his sides, and his heart pounded so loudly he wondered whether Yoo Joonghyuk could hear it from down there.
Neither one of them pulled pranks like these, and Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t immature enough to try so now. He always said and did things exactly as he’d intended — like there was no room for doubt.
The silence between them stretched, but now with sudden clarity, Kim Dokja could hear the outside world start up again. A car passed by and crickets chirped.
His body relaxed, the inexplicable suffocation from before releasing it’s hold off of him.
Kim Dokja took in a slow, deep breath.
“You like her, don’t you?”
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t say anything, but the clench of his jaw was more than enough.
“You should ask her out.” Kim Dokja smiled. It was wobbly and forced, but it was the most he could do.
The furrow in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows loosened for a moment.
“Ask her out,” Kim Dokja repeated again, his words firmer than last time.
He’d always known that it would come to this with the conversations they had with boys in the locker room, who’d always pestered Yoo Joonghyuk to make moves on Lee Seolhwa. All those conversations came rushing back to him now.
They’d always asked Kim Dokja what he thought about it, all eyes on him as they waited for a response. Kim Dokja would awkwardly laugh, rub his nape, and say “what difference would my opinion make?”
They’d look at him funny, exchange glances with each other. “Well, how would you feel about losing your best friend?”
The question dropped heavy on his chest back then. All eyes on him. Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze, too, would be intent on him, burning with an unspoken emotion while he waited.
After all, Lee Seolhwa and Yoo Joonghyuk would be the picture perfect couple. Popular, well-liked, efficient, perfect. The lead couple straight out of a web novel. His thoughts on it wouldn’t change anything.
So he’d always laugh and say, “I’d be happy for him.”
Yoo Joonghyuk had always looked disappointed then, like he’d expected something more. Even now, he held the same look on his face.
“You, you’re okay with it?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.
Kim Dokja nodded, his throat too thick with feeling to speak.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s face fell, the frown more prominent and brows ever furrowed.
Kim Dokja took a step back on the stairs, smiling as he waved.
“Well, good luck then. Not that you need it. After all, there’s no way anyone could say no to you.” He laughed.
Kim Dokja knew he certainly wouldn’t.
Yoo Joonghyuk opened his mouth to say something, but Kim Dokja turned around and rushed up the stairs before that. His footsteps echoed uncomfortably loud in the empty stairway.
Kim Dokja wanted to be happy for his friend. And he was really, really happy for him. Even as hot tears streamed down his face. Even as his lip was bit down on until it bled.
***
They had first met at the playground, on the exact same swing set that they now frequented often. It was also summer back then, and the unbearable heat of that year had driven many back into their homes. While those kids snacked on watermelon and had water fights with their friends, Kim Dokja was left on the lonesome swingset, his feet struggling to touch the ground.
He didn’t have a home to return to. Rather, he didn’t consider it as such. All he had to return to was arguments, yelling, and the all-consuming rage that sat heavy upon their household.
With his parents gazes alone, he felt stifled and unwanted. His mere existence felt like the cause of their burdens and strained marriage. Maybe it was. But it was something he’d rather not know.
He was in 1st grade during that time. A child barely old enough to stay out without supervision — yet that had never stopped him. He’d even considered running away a few times, but always ending up right back at home, his stomach rumbling and teeth chattering from the cruel realities of the world.
He sat on the swings now and sniffled. His head hung low while his chubby hands wiped away at his face aggressively. It’s not like anyone was around, but something about crying in public was embarrassing to him nonetheless.
But then, he’d heard footsteps crunching against the laid out mulch. Well kept sneakers interrupted his view of the ground as they stood there, unbudging and stubborn.
Kim Dokja froze, his sleeves stuck to his face as they soaked up the remainder of his tears. He sniffled once more, a lot louder than intended. He bit his lip and hoped the person would magically disappear, or that maybe he himself could magically disappear.
“Hey, you there,” the voice came rude and arrogant. It was high-pitched and definitely belonged to a boy around his age, though.
Kim Dokja didn’t look up, instead trying to discreetly wipe away at his face some more. He was pretty sure he’d rubbed it raw and red at this point.
The boy seemed even more annoyed after Kim Dokja’s actions, because he lifted his leg a bit to kick at the ground. The mulch barely moved, but it did send up a cloud of dust flying right into Kim Dokja’s face.
He finally raised his head to cough, practically coughing all over the boy. If the boy was disgusted before, he was several times more revolted by now.
The boy backed away and kept a respectable distance finally, looking at Kim Dokja like he’d just went out to murder his whole family rather than just sneezing.
“Gross.” The boy looked him up and down. He quickly moved on though, after wiping his face down with his own sleeve. “You’re in my spot. Move.”
Kim Dokja just blinked up at him, wondering what the boy was on about. Clearly, he’d gotten here 30 minutes before the boy, and the swing had been otherwise empty and unoccupied then.
“Who says it’s your spot?” Kim Dokja huffed, suddenly annoyed by the intrusion. A boy couldn’t even cry in peace anymore, could he?
Kim Dokja’s hands grasped at the metal chains tighter, the cold metal flush against his reddened palms. He aimed a skeptical glance at the boy.
“What’re you looking at?” The boy huffed.
Kim Dokja still tried his best to salvage the situation, pointing to the empty swingset right next to his.
“You sit there. It’s empty.”
The boy’s frown lines got deeper, and Kim Dokja couldn’t help but be concerned.
“Don’t frown. My mom said it makes you old faster.”
Kim Dokja didn’t think it possible, but if anything, the frown lines got deeper. “Shut up, fool.”
Kim Dokja pursued his lips together. “Sit there.”
“Don’t want to,” the boy scuffed his feet on the mulch. “You’re in my spot. Move.”
Kim Dokja had tried very hard to compromise, and normally he would’ve easily given up his seat to someone. If they’d nicely asked. That was the problem, though: this boy hadn’t asked, and definitely not nicely.
“That one’s ugly.” Yoo Joonghyuk scrunched his face. “You sit.”
Kim Dokja pouted, feeling a sudden attachment to the seat he was being fought for.
“Don’t want to.”
The boy walked closer to him and Kim Dokja held onto the chains tighter, his bottom lip wobbling with uncertainty. He still refused to back down.
“Let go.” The boy gritted out. He grabbed the collar of Kim Dokja’s tattered shirt.
Kim Dokja held on tighter. “Get lost. Damn son of a bitch.”
Those were words he’d grown up hearing everyday. He wasn’t sure he knew the exact meaning, but it seemed like the right kind of thing to say in a situation like this.
Turns out, it wasn’t.
“Ah!”
He’d found out all too late, and by then he’d already lost balance after being shoved, his head tipping back.
The last thing he saw was the clear blue sky and tree branches freely swaying in the breeze, before he crashed hard into the ground.
The creaking of the empty swing filled the air while he lay there, mulch digging into his back and a cloud of dust enveloping him.
Kim Dokja coughed again.
***
Kim Dokja was pretty much a born and brought up insomniac, forever cursed to lay awake in beds until his thoughts consumed him wholly.
Times like these he would randomly be reminded of past events. Most his thoughts concerned Yoo Joonghyuk though, and that thought alone bothered him to no end these days.
Normally, it wasn’t much of a problem. Give or take a few hours of twisting and turning, he usually found sleep. Eventually.
But it truly was a lot easier to sleep these days in his relatives house rather than his own in the past. He could fall asleep without worrying about heavy, drunken footsteps in the hall, making their way to his bedroom door. And he could sleep soundly without worrying about what might happen to his mother overnight.
In terms of that, he was doing much better at his relatives place now.
Yet, this night pretty much sucked. The humidity from outside crept in even through the sealed windows, rooting itself in every corner of the room. The ceiling fan did nothing to help, and seemed to only throw more hot air in his face.
He turned uncomfortably in his makeshift bed on the ground, a sorry pile of comforters he’d borrowed from his cousin. Said cousin’s snores echoed all throughout the room from the bed above, ringing in Kim Dokja’s ears.
He turned again, flipped over his pillow to find solace in the cool side, only to find it even warmer than the previous one.
He muffled his head in the pillow, letting out a groan of anguish and resisting the urge to throw it across the room.
He didn’t mind the humidity, the snores, and the insomnia as much as he did his thoughts, though.
He couldn’t help but replay the conversation with Yoo Joonghyuk at the staircase over and over in his head, analyzing all the different ways he could’ve responded. All the ways he could’ve played it out differently. He could’ve seemed more nonchalant, more supportive, and more happy for his friend.
No, instead he just came off as a jealous and horrible friend, who couldn’t even be there for his friend’s first official crush. Couldn’t even fake happiness if he’d tried.
Thinking about it over and over did help a bit though — in some twisted way. After the initial sickness, where his stomach had convoluted and his heart had wrung itself dry, he’d gotten used to it. He’d even tortured himself with mental images of them as a couple. Practice for the future, of course.
What would Yoo Joonghyuk look like in love? Would he look at Lee Seolhwa the same way as he’d looked at Kim Dokja?
Kim Dokja used to delude himself into thinking there was warmth behind his friend’s gaze, a type of warmth reserved just for him. There were times Yoo Joonghyuk had looked at him like he couldn’t believe his stupidity, yet there were also those days where he looked at Kim Dokja like he’d held the stars of the universe. Like Kim Dokja was the star himself and Yoo Joonghyuk the astronaut, anchoring around him until the end of eternity.
Kim Dokja threw off his blanket, spreading his lanky arms and legs out in a starfish pose.
Would Yoo Joonghyuk carry around Lee Seolhwa’s stuff? Hold her hands in the halls and proudly show her off, completing the image of a match made in heaven?
He curled in on himself despite the heat, the sheets around him tangling in his legs.
It wasn’t all that serious, honestly. It was only a high school relationship, after all. Those rarely lasted, and even if they did . . .
Kim Dokja felt bile rise in his throat again.
What would this mean for them? For Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk?
What about their class duty together? Their evening walks back home? Their outings on the swings in the park as they sucked on cheap, crappy popsicles?
Kim Dokja re-played those memories in his head, except all of a sudden they’d been painted over. Instead of him at Yoo Joonghyuk’s side, it was now Lee Seolhwa.
Lee Seolhwa, who stole his spot and stole his friend, stole their memories and erased away at the 10 years that made up Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk.
He turned around once again and buried his face in the pillow until he couldn’t breathe. He hated himself and the person he’d become because of Yoo Joonghyuk.
Sleep wasn’t merciful this night. It didn’t lull or drag him down. It left him alone to suffer, watching by as his thoughts consumed him, making him out to be a person he wasn’t.
***
The next day had gone by surprisingly uneventful. Yoo Joonghyuk had knocked on Kim Dokja’s door in the morning and they’d walked together to school in silence. Kim Dokja had planned on leaving by himself, but that clearly hadn’t worked out.
Plus, avoiding him would’ve just made it more obvious.
Then the two had gone through their classes as usual, with Kim Dokja napping in the corner by the window and Yoo Joonghyuk shading his face from the sun without his knowledge, the way he’d always done. They didn’t have class duty that day, so they’d walked home after picking up Yoo Joonghyuk’s sister.
Days passed by like that, and the unease in Kim Dokja’s stomach unraveled a bit. But it was only ever momentary, eventually coiling back into the ugly thing that it was whenever Kim Dokja thought about it for too long.
Yoo Joonghyuk and him could be sharing notes, walking home side by side, or even just eating lunch together in silence, but the thoughts would always come back to plague him regardless.
Maybe Yoo Joonghyuk had already asked her out, and just hadn’t bothered telling Kim Dokja about it? It wasn’t an entirely impossible thought. After all, Yoo Joonghyuk was reserved with his feelings. Up until the declaration a few days ago, Kim Dokja didn’t think it possible for his friend to ever like someone.
He didn’t know whether it was better or worse this way.
It was currently break time, and students all around them had either gone out into the courtyard or visited their friend’s classrooms, huddling into tight, rowdy circles.
Their teacher was nowhere in sight, so their classmates freely talked to each other and played games in the corner. Some girls retouched their makeup, others played games on their phones, and most of the guys were in the front writing nonsense all over the blackboard.
Yoo Joonghyuk sat poised at his desk, his phone in hand as he played some new video game while Kim Dokja watched from the side. Kim Dokja readjusted his head, pillowing it in his arms.
The two were seemingly in their own world as always. In their own corner apart from everyone else.
Behind Yoo Joonghyuk, the curtains swayed gently, prompted by the breeze from the open window. The light shining from outside fell on Yoo Joonghyuk, illuminating him. Strands of his hair fell into his eyes, and he impatiently blew them off as his fingers moved rapidly across the screen.
There was an intense look of concentration on his face, but Kim Dokja knew that Yoo Joonghyuk was always attentive to him as well.
For the first time, Kim Dokja decided to bring it up first. The topic that he’d strayed away from every time his friend brought it up.
“Hey. Is everything . . . going well?” Kim Dokja cleared his throat. “Between you and Lee Seolhwa, I mean.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers faltered over the screen. His eyes twitched as the screen flashed a bright red “Game Over” across his face.
He set the phone down and looked over at Kim Dokja, a frown on his face.
“Why’re you asking all of a sudden?”
Kim Dokja lifted his head up, stretching as he did so. “No reason, you just haven’t said anything about it in a while.”
It had been precisely 2 weeks since Yoo Joonghyuk’s abrupt declaration on the staircase. Not that Kim Dokja was counting, or anything.
Yoo Joonghyuk let out a sigh, the same look of disappointment on his face. “Why? You want me to?”
“Want you to what? Tell me about your relationship?” Kim Dokja laughed. “I mean, friends are supposed to tell each other about these things. Unless you think you’re above that too.” His voice came out a lot snarkier than he’d intended. His pettiness shone through so obviously he couldn’t help but cringe at himself.
Yoo Joonghyuk let out a frustrated sigh, his hand tangling through his hair as he slid it back.
“You want me to ask her out?”
So he hadn’t, yet?
Kim Dokja swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
He avoided Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze, picking at his nails and ignoring the burn of the gaze against his side. He almost regretted bringing it up.
“You seriously don’t know? Or are you pretending not to,” Yoo Joonghyuk gritted out.
“What?” Kim Dokja turned to look at him. His face scrunched together. “Pretending?”
Yoo Joonghyuk inhaled deeply, speaking with a patience he certainly didn’t have. “If I asked Lee Seolhwa out, you would be okay with it?”
Kim Dokja was the one getting frustrated now. “What does this have to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you!” Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands gripped the edge of the table.
Kim Dokja threw his hands up.“Do whatever the hell you want!”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
Yoo Joonghyuk glared at him, narrowing his eyes. “Today after school, then. I’ll do it.”
Kim Dokja’s swallowed.
He had pushed Yoo Joonghyuk into this conversation, but he felt conflicted all over again. He thought that if Yoo Joonghyuk finally asked her out, he could put his own mind at rest. Could finally get over losing his best friend. Yet he couldn’t actually will his mind to accept it, and his actions kept contradicting his thoughts and heart over and over.
“Do whatever you want,” Kim Dokja repeated again, softer than last time. The words had lost their stubborn firmness. He felt pathetic.
Yoo Joonghyuk got up all of a sudden. His chair scraped against the ground in an unpleasant screech and it attracted the attention of a few of their classmates.
Yoo Joonghyuk turned on his heels and walked out the door. Students parted as he made his way, and came back together as soon as the the door shut behind him.
He got up and left — just like that, going who knows where. Kim Dokja buried his face in his hands.
Lately, things between them had changed. Kim Dokja thought it was because of him. But then why was this bastard making things complicated out of nowhere, and for no reason?
Regret washed over him just a few seconds later. He lifted his head and looked at the classroom door through which his friend had just left.
“It has everything to do with you!”
What did that even mean? Would Yoo Joonghyuk really drop everything for him, give up on pursuing his crush all together because of some whimsical words from Kim Dokja’s mouth? Was he really that compliant?
Then again, the thought of it made Kim Dokja’s heart ache. Yoo Joonghyuk had always been there for him at a moments notice. He showed up at the right times even when Kim Dokja hadn’t called for him, like he already knew something was wrong. Like he knew when Kim Dokja needed him the most.
There were many times Yoo Joonghyuk had given up things for Kim Dokja’s sake. Like the e-sports tournament last winter, which he’d canceled on last minute when he’d found out that Kim Dokja was sick.
Kim Dokja, on his part, has tried his best to hide it, precisely because he knew what Yoo Joonghyuk was like.
Somehow, his friend had found out anyway. Yoo Joonghyuk came rushing over to tend to him, calling him a fool all the while for hiding his sickness. Even through all the nagging and reprimandations, even through the bitter, ice cold weather outside, Kim Dokja felt warmth spread through his heart.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d felt lonely before Yoo Joonghyuk had shown up. Growing up, his parents never had the time to care for him. His current relatives had wanted nothing to do with him. They hadn’t treated him bad, necessarily, but it was obvious to see he was merely being tolerated and dealt with most the time.
So, like always, he had been ready to spend a miserable weekend rotting away in the sheets by himself.
“Why–” Kim Dokja coughed . His throat was impossibly dry, his voice croaky, but he pushed on nonetheless. “You didn’t have to come here, you know.”
“I know,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, placing a wet towel on his forehead.
“You didn’t have to miss out on your tournament for me either, you know.”
“I know,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, dipping the cloth back into the water bowl. It splashed and droplets ran down his elbows, soaking his sleeves. He didn’t seem bothered though.
Another rattling cough shook Kim Dokja’s chest. “Then why?”
Yoo Joonghyuk paused, confused as he turned to look down at Kim Dokja.
“Because if I hadn’t, you would’ve been alone.” Yoo Joonghyuk said it as matter of fact. His eyebrows drew in together, and he seemed genuinely baffled by the question.
Kim Dokja smiled, his eyelids heavy and closing on him. “It’s fine. I’m used to being lonely, you know.”
Sleep was dragging him under by the second, holding him on the brink of consciousness. His friends blurring face swam before him.
“I know,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. He took one of Kim Dokja’s hands into his.
Kim Dokja’s eyes closed. His body felt like heavy like lead yet light as a cloud all the same, but he didn’t want to fall asleep right now. He wanted to continue feeling Yoo Joonghyuk’s warm, rough hand in his.
“But you don’t have to anymore with me around, you fool.” There was a long pause, followed by a soft, “I promise.”
Kim Dokja wondered if he’d heard wrong. Maybe the fever really had gotten to his head, feeding into the delusions he didn’t dare to encourage.
It was then that he knew he would’ve been hopeless without Yoo Joonghyuk by his side.
The bell rung, signaling the end of break. Classmates filtered back into their seats as the door opened. Kim Dokja’s head instinctively turned up towards it, but it was only their teacher who walked in.
He dropped his head back down into his arms on the desk.
He knew that if he held Yoo Joonghyuk back now, his friend would compile. He would stay by his side, and it would kill Kim Dokja knowing that he did it out of obligation for their friendship and nothing more.
And shamelessly, Kim Dokja wanted to take advantage of that fact. He wanted to tell Yoo Joonghyuk to stop pursuing Lee Seolhwa. To not ask her out, to choose him instead. But he was a coward. He knew he could only ever keep the words to himself in the end.
Would you love me instead if I asked of it from you?
***
Yoo Joonghyuk, that bastard. He skipped class completely.
Kim Dokja had kept glancing at the door until the end of the period. Eventually, the bell had rung, signaling the end of the day.
It got impossibly loud once again as his classmates gathered their things and made their way out. Kim Dokja calmly stacked his own workbooks together and stood, putting them away.
He made his way to the front board and started dusting it off. He wasn’t sure if Yoo Joonghyuk would even show for their class duty, and just the thought alone made him grip the duster tighter. He harshly scrubbed at the same spot again and again.
The door finally slid open, and Kim Dokja froze. His hand dragged the duster down until it rested on the board’s edge.
His grip grew tighter as footsteps made their way to him.
The scent of lemon, again. Hands wrapped around his on the duster, and a voice came from above.
“Leave it. You can’t reach the top.”
Kim Dokja withdrew his hand from under Yoo Joonghyuk’s, maybe a little harshly, and made his way to grab the broom in the corner of the room.
He felt Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze on him, but neither said a thing. Instead, they did what they were best at: pretending like nothing had ever happened.
Or more specifically, it was something Kim Dokja was best at. He had no idea how Yoo Joonghyuk felt about the matter.
There was tense silence, with only the tick tock of the clock resounding throughout the room. It seemed to echo their growing tension.
Yoo Joonghyuk set the duster down, sending remnants of chalk flying up into the air. He dusted his hands off and looked back at Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja kept his head down, sweeping throughout the classroom diligently. He didn’t dare raise it to see what kind of expression Yoo Joonghyuk had on.
“You can head out first,” Kim Dokja said. “I’ll finish up. So, hurry up before you lose her, alright?” He hadn’t forgotten Yoo Joonghyuk’s promise of asking Lee Seolhwa out.
He gathered the trash into the the middle, cornering it against the wall as he reached for the duster pan he’d kept on the desk behind him.
He turned around to get it, but Yoo Joonghyuk had beat him to it. He bent down to hold it against the floor.
“Sweep,” Yoo Joonghyuk instructed.
Kim Dokja felt irritated somewhat, even though Yoo Joonghyuk was only being nice by helping him out.
“Didn’t you hear me? Go quickly before she leaves school and you lose the courage.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw clenched, his head lowering down as he looked at the trash resolutely, like it held the secrets of this universe.
“Sweep.”
For a second, Kim Dokja wanted to raise the broom to bring it down on Yoo Joonghyuk’s head. But then his friend would chase him down, out for his blood, and he’d never live to finish his latest webnovel.
“Stubborn bastard,” Kim Dokja muttered under his breath, but did as he was asked to anyway.
He gathered the last bits into the duster. Before he could bend down to pick it up and discard it, Yoo Joonghyuk rose to do it himself. He walked away to the trash and emptied it, banging the dust pan against it.
“Hey, you’re doing this just to piss me off right now, aren’t you?” Kim Dokja called out after him.
Yoo Joonghyuk kept up with his repetitive action and didn’t reply. Once he was done, he made his way back over and grabbed the broom from Kim Dokja swiftly.
Yoo Joonghyuk put the broom and duster back in their place while Kim Dokja was left spluttering like an idiot.
“I have hands and legs, you know! More than capable of doing shit myself!”
Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him, approaching their desks and shouldering his backpack on the right and shouldering Kim Dokja’s on his left.
“Let’s go,” he deadpanned, moving past him.
Kim Dokja was definitely pissed by now, feeling like he was being man handled.
Yoo Joonghyuk and his damned long legs rushed out of the building, leaving Kim Dokja trailing behind him.
“Hey! What about Lee Seolhwa, are you just going to leave her hanging? And give me my damn backpack, sunfish!”
Yoo Joonghyuk stopped harshly all of a sudden, his sneakers scuffed against the gravel. It was so abrupt that Kim Dokja paused as well a couple of feet away.
“There is no Lee Seolhwa,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.
Kim Dokja frowned. “What the hell are you on about this time? What do you mean there’s ‘no Lee Seolhwa.’ Last I checked, she was a pretty real person to me. Perfectly real and present. In fact,” he took in a breath, “I recall that you were planning to ask her out after school today. You can’t ask out fake people now, can you–”
“Kim Dokja. Shut up.”
Kim Dokja’s eyes twitched. “You can’t make me.”
Except Kim Dokja had nothing more to say. He didn’t know what else to say. Yoo Joonghyuk’s back was still to him, the sun casting his silhouette.
In the end, Yoo Joonghyuk just did whatever he wanted and sped ahead of him.
Kim Dokja huffed and followed once again.
They made their way to the bustling market place, squeezing through the crowds. Kim Dokja desperately looked up, on the tips of his toes to make sure he didn’t lose sight of his friend.
He smiled at the aunties who’d recognized him, and politely declined the street vendors who offered him samples along the way. Yoo Joonghyuk obviously didn’t have this problem, being the person he was. He’d ignored everyone who so much as glanced his way, and walked on like he had a mission on line.
Kim Dokja couldn’t help but shake his head at that. How typical.
They’d finally made their way out into quieter part of the city, once again passing by the road that they usually took to pick up his sister.
By the time Kim Dokja caught up, only a couple steps behind him, Yoo Joonghyuk spoke again.
“There is no Lee Seolhwa,” he repeated again, firmly this time like he wanted the impact to reach Kim Dokja. Or like he was annoyed. There was no telling with this man and his bipolar tendencies.
“What does that mean? Will you explain, at least?” Kim Dokja was too tired to be tired of this man. He’d been chasing him this whole time, and didn’t have the strength to put up a fight any longer.
The two crossed over the bridge, the water broad beneath them as it glittered with the last rays of sun that hit against it. Birds spanned the horizon of the sky, gliding through the air freely.
Yoo Joonghyuk turned back, finally. He watched Kim Dokja’s expectant face, and let out a sigh. “Just walk.”
With that, Yoo Joonghyuk turned around and moved onward. His pace a bit slower this time.
Why Kim Dokja insisted on keeping a friendship with this insufferable-at-times bastard over the past decade, he could only wonder.
Kim Dokja silently followed him like a cat being lugged around on a leash. There was a good distance of a couple feet between them, and Kim Dokja appreciatively took advantage of that, scowling at his friend’s back and throwing an occasional middle finger in there.
He felt relaxed, though. More than he’d like to admit. He didn’t realize how peacefully chaotic their surroundings were, and how beautiful they were until he took the time to appreciate them.
The cherry blossom trees that lined the streets, the bustling street market, the crossover bridge, the snaking alleyways, and the . . . park?
His steps slowed as they approached it.
The park they’d been visiting for years, worn down and rusted by now, losing the bright colors it once used to proudly glow with. Nonetheless, it still remained beautiful and nostalgic in his eyes.
It was only a few stops away from their home, so it wasn’t surprising to see. It’s just that Yoo Joonghyuk walked over there and set their backpacks down on the nearest bench, taking a seat on the swings he’d always hated. The swing that had the white seat he considered an abomination to the eyes and soul, while leaving the black seat free for Kim Dokja.
The same seat that Kim Dokja had been pushed off of by this very person years ago, when they first met.
Something about that disastrous meet would later seal a friendship between them so tight that it would be physically painful to cut off.
Kim Dokja had given up on questioning him long ago, so he just walked over and collapsed into the seat. His hands grasped the cool chains of the swing, and he kicked his legs in front of him as he leaned back, swinging gently.
“Wait here,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, before getting up and leaving for the convenience store only a few feet away. The swing was left in motion with his action, and Kim Dokja just stared at it as his friend left.
He thought himself fairly skilled in the art of reading that bastard, yet there were days like today, when Yoo Joonghyuk decided to go out of his way to confuse Kim Dokja. More than usual.
Kim Dokja gave up and turned back to the front. He looked around at this park that once used to once be filled with groups of friends who’d gathered for their evening play time, not leaving until the sun had long since disappeared over the horizon. Their parents usually had to leave their homes, often still in house slippers and flowery aprons, to drag their kids home by the ear.
That park was long gone, though. It had long since been deserted, visited only occasionally by these two. Others usually left for the newly built park a couple streets down.
Kim Dokja smiled to himself. Those days were some of the worst in his life. And during those days, when everything seemed so hopeles, he’d forgotten to appreciate the little things that he did have. Those memories could only be recreated rather than lived through by now.
His jumped as something cold touched his cheek. He whipped his head around and found Yoo Joonghyuk looming over him, a popsicle in his mouth while another unwrapped one was in his hand.
When Kim Dokja didn’t make a move to take it, Yoo Joonghyuk wrapped his hand around Kim Dokja’s on the chain, gently pulling it off and cupping it as he placed the popsicle on his palm. His fingers lingered for longer than usual, gently pushing down on Kim Dokja’s to secure the popsicle.
Kim Dokja’s throat felt dry all of a sudden, and the humidity more daunting than before.
He tore open the wrapper with his teeth and turned to the front. He placed the soft treat against his tongue and closed his mouth around it.
Yoo Joonghyuk took his seat too, and the two quietly savored the sickly sweet, watery popsicles.
“You know, now would be a good time to talk. To explain,” Kim Dokja stated, popping the popsicle out of his mouth to offhandedly wave it in Yoo Joonghyuk’s direction.
“What’s there to say?” Yoo Joonghyuk vaguely replied.
“Hah,” Kim Dokja turned towards him. “You’re definitely doing this on purpose now, aren’t you? I know you’re not really good with words in the first place, but damn I didn’t know it was this bad? Being so evasive and cryptic, talking in that infuriating manner of yours that only God knows who you’ve adopted from–”
“You. From you, Kim Dokja.”
That shut him right up. For a few seconds, at least.
“Hey! I’m not evasive! Not mostly, anyway.”
Yoo Joonghyuk turned to aim a long, deep look at him. Eyebrows raised as if daring him to repeat the statement again.
He didn’t. He cleared his throat and moved on.
“Point is, it’s unlike you, don’t you think? You’re the one between us best at talking.” He paused for a second, scrunching his eyebrows together. “I contradicted myself just now, didn’t I? Whatever. The thing is, you’re the better of us when it comes to communicating. So why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?”
Yoo Joonghyuk cleaned off the wooden popsicle stick of his, before tossing it sideways and landing it in an open trashcan a few feet away. Kim Dokja looked down at his own barely touched popsicle.
“You never tell me anything,” Yoo Joonghyuk began. “It’s always me making the first move. Always starting the tough conversations.” There was a hardness to his words, like he’d long been suppressing himself.
That shut Kim Dokja right up for the second time. The words he had prepared to say all stumbled over each other into nothing.
“You told me to do whatever I wanted,” Yoo Joonghyuk continued.
Kim Dokja paused, retracking through his thoughts to find out that, yes, he did in fact say that.
“Are you seriously being petty right now?” Kim Dokja said. Except it came out more garbled and nonsensical with the popsicle he held at the right side of his mouth. The popsicle clashed with his teeth and he hissed as he removed it. “That was regarding Lee Seolhwa, and you know it. Stop being so damn difficult for no reason, bastard.”
“I’m doing what I want,” Yoo Joonghyuk resolutely said, holding his ground.
Kim Dokja was damn near close to shoving his popsicle down his friend’s throat.
“You said it yourself, that you would ask her out at the end of the day today,” Kim Dokja pressed on. He didn’t know why he was being so adamant about this, sounding so obsessive and like a jealous girl best-friend.
His movements paused, the popsicle cool against his inner cheek.
Oh. Oh the horror. He realized that he was acting exactly like that. Being the jealous girl best friend that seethed from the side lines, always acting so entitled and staking claim even though she’d lost the chance to make a move long ago.
Was that really what he’d let himself get to?
Yoo Joonghyuk let out the longest sigh Kim Dokja had ever heard. There was a tick in his jaw and the same annoyance in his eyes that there was back in the classroom. He ruffled a hand through his hair.
“The, the thing with Lee Seolhwa,” Yoo Joonghyuk gritted out. It was unlike him to trip over his own words, Kim Dokja noticed. “It wasn’t real. There is no Lee Seolhwa.”
Maybe Kim Dokja was just the stupidest, most oblivious person on this planet. No matter how many times Yoo Joonghyuk repeated them, the pieces weren’t connecting.
Yoo Joonghyuk continued on, not letting him speak. “You told me to do whatever I wanted. So, I’m doing whatever I want right now. Don’t you get it?”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s irritation only made Kim Dokja’s irritation spike. That’s just how the two had always been, so easily in tune with each other’s emotions that they’d naturally picked them up and mimicked it.
It was especially horrible for situations like these.
“No, no! I don’t get it. You aren’t making any sense, and you won’t even tell me straight up just what you’re thinking!”
“Kim Dokja. Dokja-yah.” Frustration and desperation laced Yoo Joonghyuk’s words, his eyes squeezing shut. His fingers grabbed at his knee as they dug into the soft fabric.
Kim Dokja, as oblivious as ever, continued with his rant. “I just want you to be happy! I’ve been telling you to go after Lee Seolhwa for quite a while now, and you keep switching up on me and confusing me. You know how toxic this is to her? You really want to start your relationship with her–”
“I’m saying I like you, you fool.”
“–in this way . . . ”
The soft remains of his popsicle slipped off, landing into a sad mush on the ground.
“You . . . huh?”
Yoo Joonghyuk opened his mouth again, getting ready to repeat the words. Before he could, Kim Dokja shot sideways on his swing and slapped a hand over his mouth. He placed his other hand on top of the first as backup.
“Don’t, don’t say it.” Kim Dokja swallowed, his arms trembling as he awkwardly leaned over. “This isn’t funny, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
His arms burned along with his eyes, his whole figure awkwardly trembling from the strained position and the uncertainty shaking in his body.
Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t one to joke. Kim Dokja always thought him to be a stone-faced and impossible man, too uptight to have a sense of humor. Surely though, he was joking now. Right?
Yoo Joonghyuk gently reached up and touched Kim Dokja’s wrist, circling around it lightly with a finger. He wrapped an arm around the thin wrist and pulled it away from his mouth just the slightest, so he could close his eyes and drag his lips across the palm of the cool hand.
The condensation and numbness from the popsicle mixed with the new sensation of Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips across his skin made his heart beat fast. He was scared to know Yoo Joonghyuk could hear it.
He harshly yanked his hand back, only to find that Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip remained firm on his wrist. It didn’t hurt, but it was tight enough to keep him from escaping the way he always had.
Kim Dokja’s eyelashes flickered, lowered gently as he watched Yoo Joonghyuk kiss down the faded scars that lined his wrists.
Kim Dokja felt it for the first time, the slight trembling in Yoo Joonghyuk’s own body. He saw the trembling of Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyelashes, and felt the uncertainty that radiated between the both of them.
The thought grounded him.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Kim Dokja whispered. “You don’t know either, do you?”
It was mostly a thought meant for himself, but he’d ended up uttering the words out loud. Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened below him, and Kim Dokja quickly pursued his lips together. He drew in a breath before opening his mouth again.
“You bastard. I like you too,” he muttered.
Yoo Joonghyuk jolted up, back straight as he sat on the swing. His gaze was searing, and his face held the same frown it always had. Yet, it was more concentration if anything — the way his eyes searched Kim Dokja’s to see if he was lying.
His hand still held Kim Dokja’s wrist in between the swings. The grip tightened imperceptibly.
Kim Dokja felt a blush creep up his neck with the realization of what he’d said. He turned his head away quickly, biting down on his lips. Was it too late to take it back now? He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of a way out of this.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip slackened on his wrist all of a sudden. Probably out of shock.
“Kim Dok–”
Kim Dokja took the opportunity to push off the swings and run.
Fuck this, he thought.
He shouldered his bag quickly and tossed his popsicle stick into a nearby trashcan as he left. He almost face planted after tripping on the curb, but he gathered himself together and ran like there was no tomorrow.
His heart had never pounded this loudly before, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Running certainly wasn’t helping his case.
“Kim Dokja!” Yoo Joonghyuk yelled out from behind him. There was no doubt that sunfish was seething. If this was a web novel, maybe there’d be hellfire rising behind him.
Kim Dokja winced, but if anything he ran harder.
“I, I didn’t say anything! You just, forget what you heard!” Kim Dokja breathlessly yelled back.
His body stumbled as he rounded the corner. His hands pushed against the brick wall to steady himself before he ran once more.
Sure enough, Yoo Joonghyuk was fast. He was only a few paces behind Kim Dokja — and in the matter of a few seconds too.
“Kim Dokja, get back here!” He gritted out.
Kim Dokja couldn’t breathe, but he mustered enough strength sneak a look back. He felt a chill pass through his body. The look in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes right now . . . surely if he was caught he wouldn’t get out of this alive.
He turned back to the front and yelled out, “I’ll see you tomorrow at school!”
“Kim Dokja!”
The Kim Dokja in question shamelessly waved a hand and rounded another corner, running away like he always had.
“Bye, Joonghyuk-ah!”
Sure enough, they could just both calm down — away from each other — and then return to school together the next day. As friends. They could forget the abrupt confession from Kim Dokja and this whole mess, and go back to their daily routine of dumb and dumber.
Yeah. That’s the way it should be.
Kim Dokja finally entered their apartment complex and felt a quick sense of relief. Still, he took the steps two at a time. The sunfish behind him was quite persistent, and followed him up the 4 flights of stairs even though he lived on the first floor.
Kim Dokja took a quick look back. “Seriously?” he couldn’t help but mutter.
Something about tag had always terrified him as a child. The thought of someone running after him, in pursuit of tagging him. It was just scary. Utterly so.
Even now, he felt the exact same. Because he would always be left wondering ‘what now?’ What would happen after he was caught? What would happen once he was cornered and could no longer run?
He tried to take the steps three at a time, seeing how easily Yoo Joonghyuk was able to do it from below him.
Nope. He shouldn’t have bothered.
He stubbed his toe and tripped forward. The weight of his backpack on his shoulder only brought him down faster, and his eyes squeezed shut with the impending doom.
In the short and rather unmeaningful life that he’d lived, he didn’t expect to die in such an embarrassing way. If this was how it was going to turn out, maybe he should’ve just . . .
A hand encircled his waist. Yoo Joonghyuk quickly reached forward and pulled Kim Dokja flush against his chest. It wasn’t enough, though. The both of them had already leaned too far forward and lost their balance.
Yoo Joonghyuk quickly thrust his other hand out right before they fell. He gripped the edge of the step in front of them, just in time.
Both of them breathed harshly, trying to catch their breath. It sounded loud in the rather quite hallway, and the adrenaline of the mad chase drained away from Kim Dokja’s limbs as he sank to the floor.
Kim Dokja panted and looked down at the hand encircling his waist, and the other trembling hand of Yoo Joonghyuk’s on the step ahead of them — that had broke their fall.
He winced, his own wrist aching from the thought.
Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to pay no mind to it. He just drew that hand in and let it join the one that was already around Kim Dokja’s waist. It effectively trapped Kim Dokja and drew him even closer — if that was possible.
The wild thoughts that bounced around in Kim Dokja’s mind before flew away in an instant. All he could focus on now was Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath against his ear, the pounding of his own heart intermingling with Yoo Joonghyuk’s against his back, and that damned scent of lemon.
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.
Yoo Joonghyuk dropped his forehead against Kim Dokja’s shoulder.
“Don’t run, Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokjwa swallowed, his throat parched. “Yeah, yeah okay sunfish. Just, you can just let go, now.” He struggled furtively under Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip, completely flushed.
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t relent.
Kim Dokja sighed and relaxed his body. “I won’t run. Okay? So let go. We can go up to my apartment, and we can take a look at your hand together.”
The grip only tightened.
“I like you, Kim Dokja.” His breath fanned against Kim Dokja’s nape, hot and restless.
Kim Dokja’s face burned. “I, okay. Okay okay. I got it, so let go now, will you?”
“I like you, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk stubbornly repeated. “Not Lee Seolhwa. You.”
Kim Dokja froze for a second, before his body unknowingly leaned back into Yoo Joonghyuk’s as he sighed. His thoughts felt jumbled and his heart tightly knotted, but he was sure of one thing.
“You’re mistaking your feelings, Joonghyuk-ah.” His fist clenched. “It’s because I’ve been by your side for so many years, that’s why, maybe that’s why you feel . . . obligated to–”
“I promised to stay by your side, Kim Dokja.”
“That’s not the same–”
“I don’t waste my time. I don’t do worthless things. I don’t say meaningless words.”
Kim Dokja huffed. “I know, I know–”
“This whole time I’ve been waiting for you to notice, to walk to me first. You’re the one who kept pushing me away. You kept pushing me to Lee Seolhwa when I wanted nothing to do with her,” Yoo Joonghyuk said through gritted teeth.
It all felt like too much. Kim Dokja was overwhelmed by the unfolding of events and the abrupt confession from not only Yoo Joonghyuk, but himself too.
He’d liked his best friend for years, and he was well aware of that fact. It’s just he never imagined his feelings ever getting reciprocated, and what he would even do if they were.
Surely, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t like someone like him, could he?
Kim Dokja swallowed. “I thought you liked her. I thought it was best.”
Yoo Joonghyuk raised his head, setting his chin on Kim Dokja’s shoulder. “You always think too much, I told you.” He sighed. “Your mind runs around in circles faster than you can let me catch on. Faster than you can let me reassure you.”
Their proximity wasn’t helping Kim Dokja whatsoever.
His throat felt thick with feeling. “What if you’re mistaken. What if this, this thing. What if it ruins our friendship? What if–”
Yoo Joonghyuk tilted his head to the side, knocking it against Kim Dokja’s. “No ‘what ifs’ no nothing.” He paused for a good while, and then softened his tone. “Don’t run, Kim Dokja.”
Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t much of a talker. He wasn’t one to express his feelings, to entertain ideas, and to lie without reason. The fact that he said this much — spoke this much — was astonishing in itself.
“But . . . would you really be fine, with someone . . . ”
Like me. The words he couldn’t manage to utter out loud.
It was a question that’d been eating away at him since he’d first recognized his feelings. He sometimes felt like he had no right to like someone, not when he grew up in a family so devoid of love — would he even be capable of treating someone right?
“You fool. You think too much,” Yoo Joonghyuk interjected.
“It’s just that, Lee Seolhwa. She’s so perfect — perfect for you. And I just think-”
“I want to be with you. I find you perfect. Not her and not anyone else.”
Yoo Joonghyuk said it with a finality. Yet, there was no irritation in his voice. He didn’t seem annoyed by the fact that Kim Dokja was being so stubborn with his feelings, even in a moment like this.
Silence descended between them, and their steadied breaths echoed in the empty staircase. They sat there together, legs splayed out awkwardly. Still, it was rather comforting compared to the past chaos of the weeks. It even felt homely, in a sense.
It allowed Kim Dokja to finally breathe.
All those days of worrying, all those sleepless nights over the thought of losing his friend, it all seemed so insignificant. The unease he felt from those days was a laughable thought now. A ridiculous one. Worry eased out of him, replaced with a new giddiness he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to feel.
They suddenly heard footsteps descending, and a pretty, young woman emerged from the corner. Her green eyes were wide as she looked down at the two frozen boys on the stairs. They must’ve made for a ridiculous sight.
“Oh my,” she smiled, raising a hand to her mouth. She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder and walked past them, sneaking looks back at them. “Don’t fight, boys!”
She didn’t seem too concerned though, given the way she was smiling and squealing.
Kim Dokja raised a hand to repeatedly slap at Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm, trying to push the stubborn bastard off.
“We wont, Miss. Uriel,” he smiled, struggling under his friend’s grip. He lowered his voice to a murderous whisper, only for Yoo Joonghyuk’s ears. “Let go right now, you bastard.”
Was Yoo Joonghyuk always this clingy? He couldn’t help but wonder, tracing back to their moments and years together as friends.
Uriel rounded another corner, heading to the bottom flight of stairs. Only a second later did she peak over the corner, her blonde hair swinging into view. “Take care!”
“You too,” Kim Dokja waved awkwardly, another smile on his face.
Yoo Joonghyuk only grunted in response to her.
Only once they finally heard her footsteps disappear, did Yoo Joonghyuk let go and pull himself off. He didn’t allow Kim Dokja even a second before he grabbed his hand. He hoisted the two of them up, hands interlinked tightly.
“Let’s go,” Yoo Joonghyuk quickly said. It was hurriedly said, as if words weren’t important right now.
“Where–”
“My place.” They walked down the stairs to the first floor. “Your relatives don’t like having me over, and frankly, I hate them as well.”
Kim Dokja huffed. “Come on, they’re not that bad.”
“They are.” Yoo Joonghyuk said it with a finality, like it wasn’t up for debate.
Kim Dokja looked down at where their hands were held together. He thought back to their classroom duty together, their walks back home, and their years spent together.
How could he have been so stupid? Stupid enough to let doubt overshadow his thoughts like that?
“Okay, sunfish.” Kim Dokja let a soft smile grow on his face. He lowered his head and let himself be pulled forward. “Let’s go together.”
***
Turns out, Yoo Joonghyuk had sprained his hand. It was only expected after breaking such a fall. Kim Dokja felt more angry than guilty, though. He eyed the makeshift cast on Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand with a murderous glare.
He fisted his other hand, the one that wasn’t holding Yoo Joonghyuk’s unbroken one, and bumped it against the latter’s shoulder.
The two continued walking to school. It was early morning and birds chirped harmoniously while the beginnings of life spread in their community. Their interlinked hands brushed their thighs as they walked close together.
“You just had to go play protagonist, didn’t you?” Kim Dokja sighed, furrowing his brows. “You could’ve just let me fall, it wouldn’t have hurt that badly.”
Yoo Joonghyuk snorted loudly from beside him. He didn’t even bother to hide it.
“You would’ve broken your nose.”
Kim Dokja waved his hand dismissively. “I would’ve been fine.”
It was Yoo Joonghyuk’s turn to eye him, a murderous glint in his eyes as he looked down.
Kim Dokja just broke out into a smile, one that probably just enraged him more.
“Oh my,” a cheery voice broke out from ahead of them.
Their heads snapped to the front and Kim Dokja quickly yanked his hand out of Yoo Joonghyuk’s, bringing it behind his back.
“Miss. Uriel! Good morning,” Kim Dokja stammered.
Yoo Joonghyuk grunted in agreement and Kim Dokja gave him a look from the side.
Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and relented, finally. “Goodmorning,” he curtly offered.
Uriel looked back and forth between the two of them, her grin widening impossibly so. “You aren’t fighting anymore, I see?”
In her hands she carried large grocery bags — a quick morning errand, probably. It made sense, but at the same time Kim Dokja couldn’t help but feel like she was everywhere and nowhere around the two of them all at once. Like she was always just watching somehow.
Kim Dokja removed his hand from behind his back, and slapped the back of it against Yoo Joonghyuk’s upper arm. “Of course not, haha. We just, uh, tripped the other day.”
“Tripped,” Yoo Joonghyuk reiterated.
She nodded, even though the knowing look in her eyes said otherwise. “Ah, well, I won’t hold you back anymore! Get to school, you two!” She smiled and walked away, a bounce in her step and ponytail swinging freely behind.
Kim Dokja nervously watched her retreating figure.
A hand gently grabbed his from below, and Kim Dokja whipped his head to look at Yoo Joonghyuk.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand held his firmly. “No one’s around, let’s go.”
Kim Dokja wanted to laugh. No one was around? People were already beginning to start their day, exiting their apartments and running quick errands all around. Though there weren’t too many now, there would be soon.
Still, Kim Dokja didn’t let go, only squeezing Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand lightly in response.
They walked on through their designated route as always: Crossing the park, walking over the bridge, strolling through the street markets, and then approaching closer to school.
All the while, Kim Dokja couldn’t help but laugh at himself. Laugh at the thoughts that had eaten away at his mind a few days ago, that seemed just so small and irrelevant now. His mind had been at ease since last night, enough so that he could hold hands with his now boyfriend without having second thoughts.
Of course Yoo Joonghyuk loved him. The guy who’d pushed him off the swings years ago, the guy who he’d keep seeing at the park. They’d become close friends, squabble and argue for years, and finally then would they fall in love with each other.
“So,” Kim Dokja started, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I take it you aren’t asking Lee Seolhwa out anymore?”
Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and squeezed his hand tight, eliciting a laugh from him.
“Shut up, Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja smiled and did as he was told. Just this once.
***