Work Text:
Immediately his eyes were bombarded with bright pink envelopes, cards filled glittering love-hearts and daring, desperate proclamations of devotion.
He hadn't known what he’d been expecting.
His eyes darted from the never ending pile of letters to the man holding them with clear and utter indifference.
This bastard, he thought bitterly.
As if reading his thoughts, said bastard looked up at him with only mild annoyance, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow before shoving the letters to the side of the desk in order to make way for his lean arms.
It was incredibly unfair.
Kim Dokja didn't say it enough - realistically, he should continue to repeat it until the stupid universe finally listened to his desperate calls and decided to do something to finally restore balance in this unjust world so that lowly, gruelling peasants like him actually had a chance.
'Well look at you, Mr. Popular.' He scowled, choosing to glare at the one and only Yoo Joonghyuk before approaching the mountain of sickeningly-sweet love notes.
The ever so eloquent and striking Yoo Joonghyuk greeted him with an equally irritated grunt.
And, well- although Kim Doka detested it with every fibre that made up his body, there really was no other way to describe Yoo Joonghyuk except completely striking.
His face was sculpted with upmost geometrical accuracy; a myriad of hard lines and precisely measured angles assembled to sculpt a face belonging to one of some higher being. He’d heard those exact words escape from peoples’ lips, he wasn’t exaggerating.
His hair, like the rest of him, was carelessly perfect - black, velvet-soft locks cascaded around his face and over his dark alluring eyes adorned with star-like jewels hidden in their tempting depths. Even then, it obviously wasn't enough to stop there. The Gods were incredibly meticulous when picking their favourites, they couldn’t simply settle for looks that could send your self-confidence plummeting.
No, he also had be spectacularly talented at every feasible activity you could possibly conjure up: sports, he was the leader of the football team; academics, don’t look at his report card ( there will be tears ) and cooking, world-wide chefs paled in comparison…
He didn’t want to continue, his own pathetic incompetence towering over his shoulder as he recalled everything that Yoo Joonghyuk did with utter ease. In comparison, he was left in the dust like the rest, grasping and wrenching for an achievement Yoo Joonghyuk probably earned by simply jumping out the womb.
‘Kim Dokja…’ he muttered, his gaze hardening as he looked back to the letters, ‘You know I don’t care for these things.’ And that dreamy, rich voice… spitting words of disgust, as if the sight of these sickeningly sweet proclamations of love were revolting- vile even.
He resisted the urge to run up and punch the damn bastard square in the jaw, years of already doing so swiftly kicking in.
He scoffed, sitting opposite him before picking up a pretty pink envelope from the pile for examination, ‘You never change.’
The envelope was prominently pretty, pink and well preserved. It’s corner were sharp as flint, creating a perfect border around a few heartfelt words written in bold cherry-red cursive directly in the centre.
Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi, Happy Valentine’s Day ♡
Kim Dokja couldn’t help but scrutinise the hand writing, as if the secret to how people could be so incredibly brazen would be hidden between the letters of the alluring scarlet font. Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to pick up on his keen interest, snatching the letter from his hands without as much of a breath of warning; the corner dug into his palm as the envelope flew out of his hands.
‘What’s so interesting?’ He demanded, scanning the letter before glaring at him, as if he actually forced Yoo Joonghyuk to examine the damn thing. He wasted no time before haphazardly throwing the dainty envelope back onto the overflowing pile crowding the desk.
Close-up, the pile practically dominated the table, the cards toppling over each other as if fiercely fighting to win Yoo Joonghyuk’s affections. Somewhere deep in his heart, Kim Dokja felt a inkling of pity at the melancholy sight, at the end of the day they were fighting a losing battle after all.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s obvious neglect of the special day, its celebration and the cards that he had practically left to rot said all that had to be said.
‘Bastard.’ He muttered, resuming his search through the stack of letters as his eyes scoured for one particular name possibly written on the back. Yoo Joonghyuk honestly should thank him, trying to salvage what possible chances the man had at recovering his non-existent love life with his stuck-up attitude.
His eyes became downcast and solemn as he flipped the last envelope with no sign of it.
‘Seems Lee Seolhwa didn’t write one.’ He sadly concluded, returning to put the envelopes back in their place to prevent himself becoming buried underneath them.
‘Why would she write one?’ Yoo Joonghyuk muttered in disdain before again glaring at him because that’s all the bastard did nowadays. To think they knew each other for nearly a decade?
Childhood friendship was a scam.
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, of course this bastard didn’t have the self-awareness to see that she seemed to be perfectly fitted for Yoo Joonghyuk.
Kim Dokja remembered when he’d first seen her; she too was another one of God’s favourites. Silky snow-white hair, a gorgeous smile, a slender yet athletic figure, academically smart… the list never ended.
Kim Dokja was also not blind to Yoo Joonghyuk’s judgment, seeing Lee Seolhwa as someone who was at the least moderately good company. His almost-smiles said as much.
For months he had been trying to edge the pair closer and closer together from the side lines, because even though Yoo Joonghyuk may not appreciate their decade-long acquaintance, Kim Dokja did. In fact, he appreciated it just enough to the point where he would even try and help this empty-headed buffoon.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s stubborn resistance was not welcomed during this headache-inducing process.
‘You’re thinking again, stop it.’
‘And you’re not thinking enough, at this rate no one is going to want to date you- you bastard.’
At this, Yoo Joonghyuk huffed, the edge of his lips curving into the slightest sign of a smile as he smugly motioned to the letters littering the desk, ‘Right, no one.’
Of course, he only acknowledged his success in the love-department when he needed to make Kim Dokja look like a fool. Predictable.
He really wanted to fucking punch him.
He huffed in irritation. He was not giving up, but disgruntled, he decided to do a detour until he could think of another way to try and salvage this incompetent mess of a man. It was truly a waste of potential.
He pulled out his textbook to finally start doing some homework per custom when the two of them met in the library after school. In reality, it was more like him not knowing what he was doing and Yoo Joonghyuk fishing the damn thing in the first half an hour, but it was what it was.
He smiled bitterly as he turned to the page with a brief explanation on the Duke of Loyalty and Warfare. He thought about it for a moment, korean history was one of his stronger subjects so maybe Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t be too ahead of him this time-
He blinked once.
Twice.
Petite and perfect, delicate and crisp…
A single envelope lay snugly tucked into the junction between the two pages, drowning in the sea of words that surrounded it.
Kim Dokja stared numbly. Sluggishly, he registered that he was, in fact, looking at a Valentine’s letter in his textbook. His thoughts spiralled, a plethora of unanswered questions hitting battering his mind as he tried to figure out when someone could have possibly snuck this kind of thing into his bag.
He thought he was seeing things.
However, even when he looked away and back again it remained unmoving, it’s corner pointing at him almost accusingly.
He picked up the letter, it was simple and pure milk-white, a beautiful contrast against the wine red letters that adorned its surface. His name stared back at him, subtle and silent in its eloquence.
Kim Dokja
And even when Kim Dokja was by far not someone to get sloppy and tear-eyed at signs of affection - much less Valentine Day proclamations of love that turned everyone around him deep crimson, daring scarlet and flushed pink - his heart ever so slightly softened at this small sign of recognition.
His first and only Valentine’s letter.
‘Why are you looking at that garbage again?’ His thoughts were shattered like a pane of glass by the snap of the man opposite him.
His shoulders rose, prepared to curse at Yoo Joonghyuk in typical Kim Dokja fashion, yet simultaneously a feeling of blossoming pride overwhelmed him, making him unexpectantly laugh instead. A smug smile graced his lips as he continued to examine the precious, petite envelope between his fingers.
‘You’re not the only who gets letters on Valentine’s Day, Yoo Joonghyuk-ah.’ He chuckled, his fingernail sliding between the crevice where the envelope’s tip latched onto it’s pale body. When the crinkle of paper resounded in the library, only then did he realise the eery, unnerving silence that had settled between them…
‘It’s yours?’
Kim Dokja risked a look at Yoo Joonghyuk and-
Oh, oh.
The man looked utterly murderous. His eyebrows arched in bewilderment, a feral hurricane of uncontrolled emotions brewing behind his dark gaze as his eyes darted between Kim Dokja and the letter he held high between his slender fingers.
As if the fact that he, Kim Dokja, could possibly acquire such a scarce artefact was inconceivable.
He had no idea if one letter for Kim Dokja was as equal of an achievement as Yoo Joonghyuk collecting a thousand of them but he was sure that the bastard had got it all wrong. Whatever imaginary competition that the contentious brute conjured out of thin air, was most definitely still being dominated by said empty-headed brute.
Kim Dokja soured.
‘Yeah- well, not everyone is blind to my handsome face.’ He sneered, his finger finally digging deep enough into the dainty parchment for him to tear the flimsy envelope apart.
Yoo Joonghyuk continued to stare bitterly.
‘You’re going to open it?’
The bastard had the audacity to sound appalled.
‘I’m not heartless unlike a certain emotionally constipated bastard.’ he scoffed indignantly.
With care, his fingers pried open the envelope reaching into it’s weak interior until his fingertips reached another protruding piece of paper. Upon pulling it out he was shocked to find that, unlike the chalk-white envelope, the note itself was a stygian ink black with glistening golden accents adorning it’s corners.
Absentmindedly, he wondered if all Yoo Joonghyuk’s letters were as beautifully made - he scoffed a second later, knowing this unjust world they were probably even more stunning.
Before he could even pry the lips of the folded note open however, a hand once again violently tore it out of his grasp-
‘Hey, what the fuck, give it back!’ He demanded, darting forward over the desk to steal it from the calloused hands of the idiot opposite him.
Yoo Joonghyuk glared back at him, his eyes coldly scrutinising his face.
Was he really that ugly?
‘It say your ugly.’ Yoo Joonghyuk grumbled, prying the letter open away from his desperate, grasping hands.
The idiot hadn’t even looked at it.
He scowled, ‘As if, who makes someone a Valentine’s letter saying they’re ugly?’
‘Who only gets one letter.’
‘You fucking-‘
Yoo Joonghyuk ignored his violent outburst : ‘It says you reek, you’re a fool and that this was wrongly addressed.’ He continued, taking out lies from out of his ass whilst his eyes turn to glare angrily back at him.
And although he was fuming, ready to punch the guy square in the jaw… his lips couldn’t fight off the smile forcibly overtaking his face.
Then, of course, he couldn’t stop - an almost crazed laugh erupting from his chest as his fist lightly collided with the man’s arm.
Even Yoo Joonghyuk’s crippling personality could disarm him in a heart beat.
The world really wasn’t fair.
Yoo Joonghyuk simply stared back at him, his gaze ever so slightly softening while Kim Dokja tried to recover from the uncontrollable laughter that threatened to set his lungs aflame and make him fall over.
He didn’t hesitate to seize Yoo Joonghyuk’s moment of weakness.
Laughing, he quickly stumbled around the desk and jumped up, his chest lightly colliding with the others, before snatching the letter right out of the man’s hand.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s surprised gaze was priceless.
He dashed to the opposite side of the library, veering between tables and chairs that lay abandoned all over. Rapidly, he opened the note with agile fingers before Yoo Joonghyuk caught up with him - sport-crazed idiot.
His lips hurt from the constant smile pulling at his lips as his eyes fell on the golden etched letters decorating the note’s ink-black surface.
To: Kim Dokja,
Happy Valentine’s Day ♡
Kim Dokja had to read it again, then again, and then once again. He was aware of being a fast reader but surely his mind didn’t just summarise the note for convenience?
But no, that’s really all there was.
Simple and clean, short and sweet, and… utterly empty. He felt a faint churn in his stomach as he pondered if this is how all cards were meant to be, pretty and refined but abruptly finished before a story could even properly unfurl.
Maybe it was just him.
‘See, I told you it was boring.’
So the bastard had read it.
‘Are they all like this?’ Kim Dokja felt pathetic asking something like this, hoping for something more - Yoo Joonghyuk’s where probably filled with hopeful Shakespearean ballads and daring poetry.
The man eloquently grunted.
‘Yeah.’ He replied, stealing the note once again from Kim Dokja’s hands and instead replacing it with the textbook he’d been flipping through prior to the whole ordeal, ‘Come on, I’ll be as slow as you if you don’t start to focus.’
Kim Dokja huffed, but the abrupt departure from the letter didn’t make him rise in anger as he had expected it to. Rather, he felt a feeling of content as they once again sat at the desk they typically occupied; at the sight of the letters still cramming the desk, Yoo Joonghyuk briskly swept them off to clear more space.
Kim Dokja melted ever so slightly at the humorous scene. Even when his letter had been nothing but empty words, Yoo Joonghyuk never failed to make it entertaining albeit through brute methods.
A smile stained his lips as it had began to become increasingly clear that Yoo Joonghyuk himself couldn’t even follow his own advice; the rest of their time spent together was filled with annoyed grunts, scattered glances towards Kim Dokja and messy scribbles.
———
Obviously, he couldn’t rival Yoo Joonghyuk’s beauty. But, honestly- he didn’t think he was that bad.
Every once in a while he’d look in the mirror on the way to school and think he looked quite nice- charming even, depending on the day. His charm just came in a more subtle and subdued way, that’s all.
He didn’t know weather this indicated he was overly-confident or delirious when he reflected on the fact he had never gotten a Valentine’s Day letter before, the prior being his fist Valentine’s letter addressed solely to him.
Following this line of thought, he was utterly flabbergasted to find his locker overflowing with flowers the very next day.
They were incredible. A gorgeous, breathtaking assortment of florals containing deep scarlet roses, bashful pink tulips, innocent white petunias and golden sunflower heads. There seemed to be a new flower every time Kim Dokja looked a bit in any direction, as if his locker was harbouring it’s own garden.
His eyes widened as he found the dazzling silk and velvet ribbons tying the flowers together into what he recognised as three completely separate bouquets.
Kim Dokja had truly never seen bouquets more eye-catching before. They looked like those magnificently complex compositions of florals that decorated the set of movies when the overjoyed, wealthy couple finally got married.
He had to check whether he was looking at his locker.
Yes, it contained his novels and yes, that was definitely his ripped timetable hanging of it’s wall, but surely anyone could have the same things, no? Anyone with more eye-catching features?
That’s when his eyes latched onto the plain black note buried among the protruding flower-heads.
His hands scrambled to read it like a dying man.
I once was told…
‘Someone of no redeeming quality, could be loved by others.’
Everyone seems to forget this.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Kim Dokja
SP.
Once again Kim Dokja had to read the letter repeatedly, the words becoming permanently imprinted in his mind every time his eyes swept over each individual word.
Alas, no matter how many times he stared and read and searched, the words from his favourite novel did not vaporise into thin air along with the wealthy assortment of flora crowding his locker.
SP. huh? He thought with a sense of awe and wonder.
A smile held his features hostage for the rest of the day.
———
If a letter had made Yoo Joonghyuk go crazy he was confident the bouquets and beautifully illustrated letter would have made the man keel over and die in utter shock.
So why…?
He’d entered the library, smiling teasingly as he manhandled the three bouquets almost completely concealing his existence. He’d grinned in excitement, patiently awaiting the man’s reaction. Would his heart give out from jealousy? Would he grunt and throw the flowers to the ground? Throw them out the window maybe?
He hadn’t accounted for complete indifference.
The disappointment stung.
Yoo Joonghyuk merely gave him one uninterested look, a levelled gaze darting between himself to the colourful assortment of flora that seemed to pool out of his arms, before swiftly looking to the side. His cheeks flushed ever so slightly pink … as if the sight was pitiful, even embarrassing, for his ‘Royal Ugly Highness' Kim Dokja to be so excited about receiving such an endearing gift.
‘Ok, Mr. Popular.’ Yoo Joonghyuk rasped; he didn’t meet his eyes, his hair falling graciously over his face.
This time Kim Dokja really did punch him.