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Chapter Text

Kim Dokja held a pencil, carefully marking a drawing and taking measurements from a woman standing stiffly beside him. Lace and silk pooled at her feet and vibrant fabric swatches lay across the mahogany table like a kaleidoscope of colours alongside precious jewels that captured the rays of golden light entering through the large windows. The man wore fashionably fitted clothes, a show of his expertise, that crinkled at his waist as he abruptly stood up, tearing his warm yet watchful eyes away from the sketch. He looked the lady up and down, deciding how to alter the dress best to her figure, before snatching up a pin cushion off the mess on his desk and fastening bits and pieces together, lifting the lustrous fabric off the wood grain floor.

“Is it possible to make it… simpler?” the woman uncharacteristically blushed.

“Ahh… Miss Heewon, don’t be so reserved, you can trust my skills,” Kim Dokja winked, “I’ll make sure Lee Hyunsung won’t be able to look at anyone but you.”

Jung Heewon looked away bashfully as Dokja continued to drape and ruffle the fabric into intricate patterns.

He slowly stepped away, admiring his masterpiece. The sleek maroon rose and fell like a fiery blaze; an unpredictable yet beautiful design that perfectly matched the woman herself.

“I just know you’ll capture your little knight’s heart with this dress!” the tailor teased her relentlessly, “Maybe you’ll even be going home arm-in-arm with a date.”

“You flatter me,” Heewon replied drily, yet her ears were still flushed red.

A sharp knock came from the entrance of the store before the door opened with a tinkle of the rusty bell hanging above. There stood the very man they were just talking about, in all his bear-like glory, holding a velvety cushion adorned with golden tassels, on top of which sat a small envelope sealed with the royal crest. Dokja quickly bowed to the knight, apologising for Heewon’s inability to do so in her dress. Lee Hyunsung caught sight of the woman and turned a bright, glowing red.

“Hello, Sir Dokja a-and… um… Lady Heewon,” he stammered, clearing his throat, “I- uh- have a letter for Sir Dokja.”

The knight bowed deeply, his armour clanking whilst extending his arms to offer Dokja the letter. A white string was fastened to his pinky, leading straight to Heewon. The string of fate linked the two together, intertwining their lives from the moment they met. This was Kim Dokja’s best-kept secret: his ability to see strings of fate. Unlike anyone else, Dokja possessed no string.

He watched the string move back and forth, pulled by the pair it bound together, entranced by the confines of love. Pushing his train of thoughts away, he waved Heewon towards the changing rooms, gesturing at his assistant to go help her undress before graciously accepting the letter with an obeisant curtsy. Shin Yoosung hurried back with a puddle of red dripping down her arms, which she promptly deposited onto Dokja’s table and smoothed out, careful not to unpin anything. When Knight Hyunsung left, he quickly sat down and cracked open the seal, reading the letter.

⧼ ⚜️ ⧽

Dear Kim Dokja, owner of Salvation’s Boutique,

I, Supreme Archduke Yoo Joonghyuk, am writing to request a portion of your time in one week on the 7th of February for you to sew me a suit for the upcoming ball. Please reserve the entire day for me. Enclosed is extra money for the sales you will have lost due to my session. I am looking forward to experiencing your expertise I have heard of from many.

Many thanks,

Yoo Joonghyuk, Sovereign of Northern Kaizenix

His train of thought absentmindedly wandered away, “Wouldn’t this be the first time the archduke has attended the yearly ball since… How old was he again… Sixteen?” He pondered on whether he should listen closer to the juicy gossip the viscountesses and ladies often talked about as he fished out an unnecessarily thick wad of bills from within the envelope and gasped. This was far too large an amount for his time! He scrabbled for his notebook and jotted down ‘return some money to duke’. Kim Dokja then went back to attending to Jung Heewon, ignoring her questions and going on with his day as per usual, altering dresses, tailoring suits and creating pieces of jewellery in the little spare time he had.

***

A week had passed by without any issues. His business had seen a boom due to the annual ball announced by the king to pay respect to the gods who resided over the area, but today he would be putting up a ‘closed’ sign in wait for the King’s arrival himself. Kim Dokja had been assembling a complex circlet for a countess that curved and swirled around the head. The man had the unique ability to match the jewellery to the commissioner, to forge regalia for the common folk that complemented both their presence and persona. For the centrepiece – the main attraction – he’d decided to embed a rare black opal encircled with silver claws, with small red diamonds dripping off in a blood-like fashion. The headpiece itself was studded with the darkest onyxes he had in his reach, not dissimilar to that of a black hole that swallowed light itself. He picked up some tweezers, continuing to accumulate clusters of jewels with the cautiousness of a mother holding a baby.

“Dokja, did you make this yourself?”

His mother would ask questions like this while stroking his head.

“I wonder who blessed you with this skill… it wasn’t me… or your father, definitely.”

After this time, something happened and his mother began to change. At first, the comments would trickle to a stop. Then, she stopped watching at all. She grew colder and colder with each passing day, until she simply disappeared, leaving all but a note reading:

To my Dokja,

I am sorry for distancing myself from you, ano I know nothing can reoair tne hole a missing pare t leav s, but it was fo  your sake. You will unders  nd when you are older, however, I must keep this letter concise, for I fea  he wili f nd yo . J s  rem n oer thi  lett   when you a  e olo r.

L  e    S  ok  u  g

Written with a pen running out of ink, Dokja filled in the missing letters himself. As he did with books to fill the cracks of his childhood. He was used to this. His mother may have thought he wouldn’t understand, but his comprehension was far beyond that of a child’s. His father was out of the picture for an obvious reason. He could recall faint memories from when the three still lived together. The diamond shatters of glass and the tiger eye hardwood floors, light dancing on the glistening rubies pooling around his feet. And the bottle in his hand and the craze in his eyes and the fear in hers. The strings tied to both their fingers lay limp. Withering. Blackening.

Bang!

The door burst open, the impact of it against the wall drowning out the usual chime of the bell as Dokja flinched up, dropping his tools and nearly knocking his precious art off the table. In walked a man of tall stature, with a face so beautiful it was probably carved by Apollo himself. He donned regal clothing; a charcoal blazer adorned with whirls of gold extending from the lapel and the inside lined with navy blue silk. His pinky was devoid of any string.

Dokja quickly smoothed his clothes down and bowed, then peeked behind him to see, surprisingly, only one guard stationed at the storefront. A girl of average height who didn’t even seem like an adult yet, holding a sharpened sword in a position ready to strike.

The archduke turned around and spoke to the girl, “Lee Jihye, you can go explore the markets. Just be back soon and make sure not to get into any trouble.”

His voice was deep, befitting of his image.

Lee Jihye’s eyes lit up, “Thank you Master! I’ll make sure to train extra hard when we get back!”

Kim Dokja swore he could almost see a hint of a smile upon that stone-cold face of his, but when he blinked, it disappeared.

“Your Majesty,” Kim Dokja rose from his bow, “How may I be of service to you today?”

Yoo Joonghyuk remained silent, glaring at him. Kim Dokja’s customer service smile was getting strained.
“So, how would you like your suit? Are there any designs you like, perhaps?” Kim Dokja asked politely.

“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunted.

Dokja’s patience was running thin.

“So you came here with no knowledge of what you wanted,” he nearly snapped at the man, biting his tongue.

Dokja ushered the man to stand on a platform, pulling a measuring tape out of his pocket and wrapped it tightly around his waist and arms. He stood on the balls of his feet, struggling to reach his broad shoulders and instead falling onto the man, his hands landing on the hard plane of his chest in an attempt to balance himself. A strange bolt of electricity coursed through his body as he jolted up.

“Ah- I’m so sorry Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to do that,” he profusely apologised before trying to change the topic, a red sheen coating his ears, “Are there any colour schemes you’re particularly interested in?”

He turned around to grab a stack of papers off a chair, handing them to Yoo Joonghyuk, waiting expectantly for him to take the sheets, an awkward atmosphere enveloping the two.

“Oh! And our fabrics,” he remembered, trying his utmost best to converse with a man who had no social skills, “I have the swatches on the desk… Let me go grab them.”

***

‘Kim Dokja’.

A name. Yet also a memory waiting to be remembered. A word yet to be said, on the tip of one’s tongue.

Yoo Joonghyuk was looking forward to meeting this ‘renowned tailor’ who could create clothes that people would call ‘artworks rivalling the holy statues’ . However, upon stepping into his store, he belatedly realised that it was the artist himself who was the masterpiece. He stood there dumbfounded, enraptured yet not knowing what was so magnetic about the normal-looking man. He raked his eyes over the slender man’s figure and his waist, imagining slotting his hands on both sides, then at his face. His skin looked as soft as a baby’s bottom and his thick lashes fanned over cunning eyes, but even past his looks he recognised him. A familiar face, yet hazy as though frosted glass separated the two – features clear yet not clear enough. He quickly snapped back to reality, allowing Lee Jihye to abandon her post outside the store, and returned his attention to the man bowing in front of him. Kim Dokja had greeted him almost too politely, to the point of stiffness. Yoo Joonghyuk kept staring at him, entranced by the movement of his pouty lips and the crinkling of his eyes when he spoke.

“When was the last time I acted like this? What the hell is wrong with me? Could he be…?” he wondered, shaking his thoughts away and finally replying to the smaller man.

“So, how would you like your suit? Are there any designs you like, perhaps?''

He recognised his voice. It was bewitching in a ghostly way that demanded Yoo Joonghyuk’s focus wholly, to the point where the only thing he could reply with was a stupid, ‘no’.

“Fuck, why are you so incompetent?” he cursed himself out inside his head. Dokja said something else, however the archduke was too busy berating himself to take notice until he was led to a slightly raised platform, and requested to ‘stay put’. As if he were a dog to be ordered around, however, seeing that it was Kim Dokja, he would allow it this time.

Dokja seemingly pulled a measuring tape out of nowhere and encircled it around his limbs, stopping to jot down numbers every now and then. However, once reaching his shoulders, he tried to stand on his tippy toes to properly measure the length, which resulted in him falling forward. His small but nimble hands extended to brace himself and landed… Right on his chest. One for each side. He started to apologise, lowering his head and spluttering out his excuses, and if Dokja looked up, he’d have seen red flushing his face. Despite his embarrassment, Yoo Joonghyuk paid no attention to his words, only recalling the spark that ignited at that moment. Magic.

It was nearly midday and Kim Dokja was now fervently working on a sketch for the suit whilst Yoo Joonghyuk sat with his legs apart on a couch beside him, watching the process. His eye caught sight of the jewellery the tailor had been assembling earlier

“Do you make accessories?” he mused.

“...Yes, I do sir,” Dokja replied.

“Let me take a look at one,” he demanded, “...Please.”

Dokja looked at him with veiled surprise as he tentatively picked up the piece and handed it over to the man, looking at him as if it would break the moment he set it down on his palm.

“Just be careful with it, alright?”

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, admiring his handiwork, “Are you self-taught?”

“Mn, I am,” he replied, marking the sketch with numbers.

To say the archduke was impressed was an understatement. By simply turning the circlet over in his hands he could tell that piece of jewellery was better than that of what the expert jewellers working in the castle could create.

“Would it be too much of a hassle for me to commission some accessories to go along with the clothes?” he asked, “Of course, I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Kim Dokja beamed at him, the fog lifting from his face for a split second, “I don’t think my hobby is good enough for you, but if you insist I am happy to make anything for you!”

“Credit yourself more. I would offer you a position in the castle, but of course, you already have a highly successful business to attend to,” the archduke mentioned.

What Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t mention was that he was ready to purchase every piece he had if it meant he could see the beauty of his true face shine through again.

A knock on the door signified Lee Jihye’s return as the archduke stood up to leave.

“I’ll notify you once the suit is ready so you can try it on and I can make some final adjustments.”

“No need, I’ll visit every now and then to confirm your progress. If you need to notify me, you can notify me in person.”

“There’s no reason for you to do that, I’m sure you have better things to spend your time on Sir!” Kim Dokja chuckled, waving his hands.
Yoo Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow, “Am I not welcome to return?”

“Sir… That’s not what I meant,” the man said, embarrassed, “You’re welcome to visit anytime you wish. The store will always be available for you.”

The archduke was at the door now, “I’ll be seeing you soon then, Kim Dokja.”

The tailor awkwardly waved goodbye to him, wishing him well.

Lee Jihye stood right outside the door, nearly slamming into Yoo Joonghyuk as she caught herself from falling.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at her in disbelief, “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

“Ahem- Master! You’re done! How was it? Did he cause any trouble?” the teenager saluted, still recovering from the shock of being caught red-handed, “Why are you going to meet him again?”

Yoo Joonghyuk quickly averted his gaze, dragging the tip of his sword across the asphalt.

“No way… Master do you-!” Lee Jihye’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

He simply grunted, “So how are you and Kim Namwoon?”

The teenager promptly shut up and the two walked back to his estate in silence.

The next day came soon and Yoo Joonghyuk wondered whether he should check on Kim Dokja before Uriel appeared and placed a tower of papers onto his office desk, alongside a large number of books. He could already feel the impending headache just from looking at the documents he needed to go through.

“I guess I won’t be visiting him today…” he sighed.

“Uriel, what’s my schedule for tomorrow?” he spun around to face her.

“Well, tomorrow you have to-” she started.

“Clear it all out, I have an important meeting to attend.”

Uriel saw the small smile on his face and decided not to pry into his personal life… for now.

***

Jung Heewon was back again to pick up her dress. She stood, leaning on the doorframe as she watched Dokja fix the buttons on the dress.

“Hey, yesterday your shop was closed? What for?” she pestered.

He paused for a second before replying, “The archduke came to fix a suit for himself.”

“Why so red? Did something happen?” she teased him.

“I accidentally… touched his chest,” he buried his face into his hands, “And it was literally all muscle!”

Heewon looked disgusted, “So you’re a pervert? Should I even be talking to you right now? Kim ‘I touched up the archduke’ Dokja.”

“I told you already- It was an accident!” he insisted indignantly, “And I felt this weird electric shock too!”

Jung Heewon squinted her eyes at him, chastising him for being a so-called madman.

Dokja brushed off her comments, “Anyways, you’re meant to pick up your dress, so be quiet and let me finish it.”

The buttons were easily repaired, all he needed to do was reattach them before he handed the maroon fabric over to the woman, “Here, go try it on. Be careful though! My assistant is on a break so she can’t help you.”

“Yeah, I’ll be as careful as you were when you groped royalty,” she waved her hand dismissively, “Archduke Yoo Joonghyuk is as blue-blooded as they get.”

“I already said it’s NOT LIKE THAT!”

“Sure, sure, I believe you,” she replied, before retreating behind a curtain.

The familiar sound of the bell rang out and Kim Dokja looked up. Yoo Joonghyuk’s imposing figure stood outside.

Kim Dokja bowed down, “Good morning Sir, your suit isn’t ready yet, but feel free to come in. Apologies for the mess.”

He stepped in, looking around at the various mannequins scattered around, his gaze catching on a floor-length gown made of satin, with sheer layers cascading down the side.

“Has that dress caught your eye?” Kim Dokja asked, returning to another project of his, “Perhaps you have a woman you’re imagining in it? I’m sure she’d look wonderful, whoever she is.”

The nobleman immediately turned away, “No, I just thought your craftsmanship was impressive…”

Jung Heewon emerged from the changing rooms, and Kim Dokja could’ve sworn he saw Yoo Joonghyuk jump back, startled. In no time, he was at the smaller man’s side, glaring at the woman like some sort of protective puppy. Kim Dokja nearly reached out to pat his head in assurance, profusely apologising for forgetting to tell him there was a customer aside from him in the store.

The woman threw him a mocking smirk before shallowly bowing to the man beside him, “Good day Archduke. I’ve heard a lot about you from Kim Dokja.”

Dokja effortlessly saw through her poker face, narrowing his eyes at the sardonic tone of her suddenly high-pitched voice.

He grit his teeth and shot a knowing glare at her, “I’m sure you’ve heard a lot from Lee Hyunsung as well, or am I mistaken?”

She sidestepped the question, bringing focus to Kim Dokja once more, negotiating the finalisation of her payment as well as the pricing of fabric, then suddenly veering off to the topic of rising housing prices, all whilst Yoo Joonghyuk cast her a steely glare.

“Kim Dokja, I have something to discuss with you,” he butted into their conversation.

Jung Heewon rolled her eyes and winked towards Dokja, “I’ll be leaving then, have fun with the archduke.”

Once she exited the building, he turned to face the imposing man who had become quiet.

“So… what did you have to ask, sir?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

Dokja raised an eyebrow at him as he scrambled for words, “Would you like to… Nevermind.”

“Hey! You can’t just leave me hanging like that-”, Kim Dokja exclaimed before he snapped his mouth shut, “I apologise, I forget myself Your Majesty.”

“Drop the formalities, I insist,” Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head, “And… I wanted to invite you out, only if you want to though, I understand I could be interfering with your work-”

“Could anyone ever refuse an invitation from the archduke? I’d be more than happy to Joonghyuk. So does this make it a date?” he teased the man cheekily.

At that moment, the incessant creaking of the door drowned out the impossibly quiet whisper of “yes, it does” .

“Dokja, I understand you’re swamped with work because of the ball, but would it kill you to take a minute to return your overdue books?” a well-dressed woman with light brown hair started to chastise the tailor.

He laughed nervously, “Oh, well, I might’ve forgotten… a bit.”

“This is my third time coming to remind you,” an unamused look was painted on her face, however, it immediately dropped upon seeing Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing deeply, “I apologise for barging in so suddenly, I am Yoo Sangah and I manage the local library. Kim Dokja here has… many long overdue books.”

Her brief explanation ended and she quickly started lecturing him and urging him to return the books as “other people should be able to experience the happiness you get from reading!”

“Miss Sangah, I’ll make sure Kim Dokja returns his books, but right now, he has an appointment with me and only me,” Yoo Joonghyuk reminded her.

The librarian shot one last warning glare at Dokja before politely bowing and exiting the boutique.

“Sorry about that, Joonghyuk. So when will we… go out together?”

“Now,” Yoo Joonghyuk stated, as if it were oh-so-obvious.

“Wait but it’s not closing time yet, and I need to change!”

The archduke strode to the window and flipped the open sign around.

“There, now you can go get changed.”

Kim Dokja caved.

***

The colourful tents lined the street, casting vibrant lights across the vast selection of items on show. Coincidentally, today was also a festival celebrating the gods of the city. Yoo Joonghyuk hid his face as he let Kim Dokja pull him from stall to stall, admiring the way his eyes would sparkle when he spotted a particularly interesting sheet of fabric, or when he smelled the delicious aroma of lamb skewers. Before Dokja could even open his mouth, the archduke would already be at the stall haggling the owner for the item.

The night air was crisp, entangled with the lively atmosphere and energetic music. The smoke of incense wafted into the sky as the pair found a secluded space to enjoy their food. Kim Dokja was already drowning in food before sneaking a glance at the other to see he hadn’t touched it at all.

“Are you not going to eat? The food will go cold!”

“I only eat food prepared by myself,” Yoo Joonghyuk responded, “Perhaps I could cook for you sometime.”

“Mmm… sounds good,” Kim Dokja smiled up at the man, sipping on the expensive rose champagne he’d taken a sample of.

“Though if you add tomatoes I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again,” he kept smiling brightly, yet the archduke felt his smile had become somewhat sinister.

Two excited children ran past them, nearly knocking Dokja over, “Hurry up idiot! Sorry sir- We’re going to miss the fireworks show!”

Kim Dokja didn’t stop to wait, grabbing Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand and immediately following the kids. They stopped at the harbour where masses of people pushed to get the best view. Yoo Joonghyuk pulled on his hand, making a shushing action when Dokja tried to protest.

“Follow me.”

***

“Hey… are you sure you’re not trying to kidnap me right now?” Kim Dokja nervously chuckled as he made his way through the bushes. Yoo Joonghyuk shot him a glare as the passageway opened up to a grassy clearing.

A lone tree stood in the middle, vines crawling up its trunk, sprouting flowers. A small swing creaked in the wind, old and worn. There was a sense of belonging he couldn’t put his finger on. The calm waters lapped at the cliff-side, swishing to the rhythm of the breeze.

“How did you find this place…?”

“No idea, I just stumbled upon it one day.”

As Kim Dokja mulled over his words, Yoo Joonghyuk impulsively spoke again, “You know, I was actually wondering.”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to attend the ball with me?”

The fireworks exploded into the sky, drowning out Kim Dokja’s thoughts and colouring the light of his eyes.

“With you? Like… the upcoming ball?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

“But we haven’t known each other for that long-”

“Kim Dokja, I don’t care how long I’ve known you. I’m asking whether you would like to attend the ball with me or not.”

Kim Dokja knew there was a force drawing the two together. Yoo Joonghyuk knew as well.

“... Do you seriously think I could refuse you?”

“Well, not exactly,” Yoo Joonghyuk, leaned towards Dokja.

Another firework shot into the sky, leaving an aftertaste of rose champagne, drunk on the night.

Chapter Text

I’m not letting go this time.

Yoo Joonghyuk carded his hand through tufts of feathery raven hair as Dokja sat in his embrace, head buried in the crook of his neck.

“Kim Dokja, do you believe in past lives?”

Yoo Joonghyuk tilted his chin up to look directly in his eyes.

“You sound like my friend, you know? She’s always asking me about that.” Dokja gazed into the sparkling trails of the fireworks and paused, “... It sounds too idealistic. Like you’re trying to slot a piece of a puzzle into the wrong socket to make up for something missing.”

He paused again, “But isn’t that the very essence of being human?”

A low hum came from beside him.

“What makes us human? How ironic…”

Something bumped Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. He glanced down, greeted by Kim Dokja’s peaceful expression; eyes shut without a care for the waking world.

The faint sound of bickering woke him from his accidental slumber. He rubbed his eyes and looked back to see a short woman wearing purple robes pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“You… WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO KIM DOKJA! I’ll curse your damn bloodline if you don’t let go of him you kidnapper- you abhorrent creature- you-!”

Dokja could recognise this screeching voice no matter where he went. The arms resting around him tightened as he stared at the scowling face of said ‘kidnapper’.

He lightly tapped on his arm to grab his attention, “Joonghyuk-ah, it’s okay, you get let go. That crazy lady is the friend I mentioned earlier.”

The lines in his face only seemed to deepen as he relaxed his arms, letting them fall to his side as the smaller man crawled out of his lap.

“You’ll get wrinkles by the time you’re 30 if you keep this up,” he reached out to smooth out the lines, before spinning around to face the angry homunculus who was violently stomping her feet and yelling out a string of words, not even paying attention to the two.

Kim Dokja’s face scrunched up, “Sooyoung you crazy bastard, what the hell are you doing?”

Han Sooyoung immediately stopped casting her spell, mouth gaping and finger pointing, “I thought he drugged you.”

She backed away, now somewhat hostilely pointing between the two men.

“Wait,” her eyes narrowed as they darted between him and Yoo Joonghyuk, “Don’t tell me…”

Dokja met her gaze with a guilty expression and he could’ve sworn she blew a fuse before she started pacing around and muttering.

“Fuck, how could he… before I got it on with that librarian… what about our bet! My money… Stupid shitty squid.”

Han Sooyoung was on her knees in anguish, clutching her head.

He awkwardly stood to the side before she pulled herself together and came to a stop in front of him, now urging him to introduce the two to each other.

“Well, Han Sooyoung, this is Archduke Yoo Joonghyuk,” he turned to gesture at him, “And Joonghyuk, this is Han Sooyoung; bad tempered, bat-shit crazy, self-proclaimed witch.”

Han Sooyoung’s glare flicked between the two before registering what he’d said and promptly climbing his back and head locking him (unsuccessfully). Dokja nearly let himself relax, as she yielded for a moment, before proceeding to bash her steel-tipped boot into his back. Luckily for Dokja, the taller man didn’t indulge in the entertainment and instead peeled the witch off his back before dumping her on the grass, unimpressed.

“You’re lucky your little boyfriend is here to protect you,” she shot him a glare.

“You know I can protect myself fine ,” Dokja huffed, crossing his arms before freezing, “WAIT! HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND; YOU’VE GOT IT WRONG.”

Now it was said ‘boyfriend’s’ turn to glare daggers at him, “I’m not your boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“Kim Dokja.”

“Joonghyuk?”

Their eyes locked on each others’, before Yoo Joonghyuk clutched his neck and kissed him, an astounding show of brashness from the recluse.

It was safe to say that Han Sooyoung was not in a good mood for the rest of the day.

The sun was setting, casting golden hues onto the clouds and painting their underbellies purple. Dokja peered out the crystalline window, gazing at the elegantly manicured garden, seemingly painted on canvas with its hanging arbours and hidden alcoves, tucked into its shady enclaves. He was so invested in the actions of a small figure holding comically large shears, daydreaming about what their story could possibly be, that he didn’t notice the set of steely eyes that softened ever so slightly as they landed on his face.

He jumped ever-so-slightly, as his reverie was interrupted by the thud of his well-worn book sliding off his lap and hitting the spotless floor. Before he could lean down to grab it, another pair of calloused palms had gotten there already, placing the novel in his outreached hands with a grumble.

“Don’t dirty my floor with your dust.”

Kim Dokja wondered, “Is he mad at me?”

The daggers cast by his glare seemed to get infinitesimally sharper.

“You said that out loud.”

What .

“Now you’re thinking too loud.”

He wanted to strangle this bastard.

Shooting daggers at him, he poked at Yoo Joonghyuk’s side, “So, are you mad or what?”

“You told Han Sooyoung I wasn’t your boyfriend.”

Dokja blinked owlishly, “You want to be with me?”

The inarticulate bastard only grunted, averting his gaze, a light pink dusting the tips of his ears. 

The other man only took this as an opportunity to tease him, “Joonghyuk-ie, don’t be so shy now!”

Cupping the silent man’s face, he tilted it up and met his burning glare. Dokja grinned and squished his cheeks, revelling in the deepening scowl set on his face, unmoving despite his greatest efforts. Instead of slapping his pervasive hands away, Yoo Joonghyuk opted to do the same to him, just rougher; a lot rougher. Now Kim Dokja was flailing his arms like a windmill, which had virtually no effect on the larger man.

“Let me be your boyfriend, Kim Dokja.”

His incessant flailing immediately ceased.

“What?”

“Let me be your boyfriend.”

Dokja was blushing profusely, a furious red painting his face, “I heard the first time, you sunfish .”

“Let me be your boyfriend, you squid .”

“Seriously? Quoting the witch is not a good look.”

“Give me an answer, Kim Dokja,” he gripped his face tighter. Yoo Joonghyuk was losing his patience as Dokja continued to stall whilst his eyes shifted to and fro. In true squid fashion, he started squirming around once again; this time his legs flailing with his arms. Unfortunately, there was no way he could slip out of this situation.

“Okay, okay! Let go of my face and I’ll give you an answer!”

He hesitated before letting go, only to latch onto his waist instead. Kim Dokja was an imbecile if he believed that would work on him.

“Fine. Fine . Yes, you can be my boyfriend.”

“Your tone suggests otherwise.”

“Do you want me to say no?”

Yoo Joonghyuk promptly shut up.

Well, only for a few seconds.

His lips ghosted Dokja’s pale neck, “I knew you’d agree.”

He made a move to bolt out of the room before his lover grabbed his hand, gently pressing his lips onto it. He could feel his smile.

“You can run, but you’ll always come back to me.”

“You don’t know that,” Dokja snapped.

“But I do; you came back to me.”

Yoo Joonghyuk was grinning ear to ear when he looked up at his boyfriend’s puzzled expression, pulling him towards himself. Kim Dokja froze as he was enveloped in the other’s warmth.

“I never knew you could smile so brightly,” he mumbled, muffled by the man’s chest as his voice trailed off, “What did you even mean by that…”