Chapter Text
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After somehow managing to survive on this godforsaken planet for over 30 years, Kim Dokja has amassed quite a few embarrassing stories in his lifetime. Nothing could quite top this, of course.
Staring at the unnecessarily decorated ceiling of the hotel room he somehow found himself in, Kim Dokja took a moment–or two, or three, or a hundred–to have a bit of an existential crisis.
This was all because of Han Myungoh and his stupid habit of piling work onto other people. This week’s target happened to be Kim Dokja, and what a goddamn week it was. They were preparing to collaborate with another big company, and Han Myungoh was supposedly in charge of leading one of the many teams trying to make things as smooth as possible. Unfortunately, Han Myungoh disappeared without a word the night before a big meeting with some very important people, only reappearing once two days later to grace Kim Dokja with the new title of team leader before disappearing once again, leaving Kim Dokja to pick up the pieces of the chaos he’s left behind.
One might think that it’s because Han Myungoh saw the potential in Kim Dokja, and thought that he was trustworthy and skilled enough to undertake this task. No. And it’s not even because they’re close or anything—Kim Dokja just happened to be the first person he saw when he walked into their office floor, and so he ended up being the poor unfortunate scapegoat.
It’s been about two weeks since then, and Kim Dokja has had to work with more people than he’s ever even talked to in his life. In that time, he has also done more work than he has in his life, consumed a record amount of caffeine, and had the least amount of sleep that he’s ever functioned on.
Well, “functioned”, might be a bit of an overstatement. He personally experienced what it was like to be a zombie in this time period, and he never wants to do it again. He still has to function like one, unfortunately, considering how the projects and collaborations are still not finished.
Kim Dokja sighed. He missed being a nobody. Being a team leader of sorts meant that he not only had more responsibilities, he also had to hear people talk about everything from their families to what they do after work to office gossip and drama. There was even this unbelievable rumor that the reason Han Myungoh disappeared was because the CEO of another company kidnapped him to torture him because he was apparently a secret chaebol?
Kim Dokja didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.
So, in a fit of psychosis, he did what any sane middle aged man would do. He would drink himself silly at a bar and take someone home for the night to destress before going back to the hamster wheel of life the next morning—at least that’s what he heard all of his coworkers say they did when things got rough.
Having no experience in this…field, he got off work (late as usual) and decided that his life couldn’t possibly get any worse before heading off to the nearest bar his phone directed him to.
It was definitely an expensive place and he wasn’t exactly quite sure how he got in, to be honest. He just followed the flow of the crowd into a large building with every surface cleaned so well he could see his every pore, went up a dozen floors, followed behind a group of drunk people who held a few (very intricately designed) doors open, and then found himself staring at a wall of alcohol with labels he couldn’t read.
The bartender, much to her credit, was extremely professional and didn’t say anything about him looking lost or poor or disheveled, only treating him with the same attitude that he saw her serve the other patrons with. She recommended a drink that he couldn’t pronounce and then left him alone, something that he was grateful for. He quickly thanked her before scurrying off into an unoccupied corner.
The lighting was dim enough to be atmospheric, while also being bright enough not to add to the walking hazards called drunk rich kids. Kim Dokja shifted on the barstool, spinning quietly. Unlike his own chairs at home, this one was expensive enough not to squeak at any hint of movement. Sitting there, sipping his unknown drink while tucked away in a corner, Kim Dokja was almost able to relax a little bit.
His peace was quickly shattered when a man dressed in an obnoxiously sparkly and very yellow suit sat beside him.
Kim Dokja glanced at him. His shoes even matched. The man looked back at him, dark eyes peering into his soul. Jokes on him, Kim Dokja no longer had one; he had his wonderful boss Han Myungoh to thank for that. There were no words exchanged.
Kim Dokja finished his drink quietly, watching the bustling chaos of people around him. He flagged the bartender down, glanced at the cost of one drink, swiped his credit card like he had money, and decided that it would be better for him to have a panic attack in the bathroom rather than embarrass himself here.
He nodded to the gaudy man who kept him company, and left to search for a quieter place to have an existential crisis.
He wandered the halls, somehow unable to find a bathroom. Granted, it was a bit difficult to walk straight with the walls spinning all around him.
Hm, maybe that drink was stronger than he thought.
He stumbled, grabbing the wall for support, and missing. The ground was fast approaching his face, and Kim Dokja braced for an impact when someone caught his arm and pulled him back just before he broke his nose.
It was the man in the gaudy yellow suit.
“Thanks,” Kim Dokja mumbled. He pulled away, swaying on his feet. Now that they were outside of the dim bar, he finally got a good look at the man’s face. He could do nothing but sigh. The world was truly unfair.
The man was handsome, to say the least. His eyebrows were perfectly shaped, his hair framing his face artistically. He had a bit of a scowl, but after spending some time sitting next to him, Kim Dokja figured that it was just how his face was. How someone could look good even while frowning was beyond Kim Dokja.
“What do you keep sighing about?”
Kim Dokja realized that he had sighed quite a bit while marveling at the man’s beauty. Not that he could say that out loud of course, so he just responded with, “The world is unfair.”
“...So it is.”
The walls were still spinning and the lights were bright and the alcohol was coursing through his system and there was a handsome man in front of him. All of these things came together to create the perfect disaster.
“So,” Kim Dokja said. “Want to grab another drink with me?”
The man wrinkled his nose, staring at him with derision in his eyes. “Can you even afford another one from here?”
“Absolutely not. But I know a spot,” Kim Dokja said, smiling charismatically. Or, he hoped it was charismatic, at least.
The man looked even more unimpressed, something that Kim Dokja didn’t know was even possible. But, hey, you learn new things every day. And he’s learned quite a lot in the past few hours.
The man scoffed, walking forward. He stepped far enough that Kim Dokja thought he was leaving—which, honestly, fair—but then he did the impossible. He looked back and said, “Well? Are you going to show the way or not?”
Kim Dokja’s alcohol-addled brain took a few seconds to process his words. “You want to come?”
“What?” The man said. “Didn’t expect me to say yes?”
“Of course not. Only someone stupid would agree,” Kim Dokja said, walking past him while thanking God that this hallway led straight to the elevator. “What if I tried to kidnap you? Extort your entire life savings? Or maybe I’ll decide to hold you hostage in exchange for an obscenely large ransom, only to go back on my word and push you off a bridge once I receive the money?”
“I highly doubt that,” the man said. “You look like you would keel over at the slightest hint of physical activity.”
Um, rude. Salary men work harder than most people think they do! Who do you think runs around the office getting coffee? Who are the ones printing papers and making sure they get to their correct destinations because senior executives are somehow incompetent when it comes to tedious tasks like these?
Not to mention his history of running away from bullies, scammers, and all perceived threats against his life. Kim Dokja is quite good at dodging too.
He scoffed, glancing at the man beside him. The elevator doors opened with a ding. He stepped inside first, making sure to blatantly cut off the other man’s path. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just a mere sedentary office worker. What’s up with the ugly ass suit anyways?”
Just like everything else in the building, the elevator was expensively decorated. The gold trim and warm toned wooden walls did nothing but accentuate the gaudiness of the yellow suit the other man was wearing. The light reflected on the sequins and sparkles, casting iridescent colors onto the panelled walls that shifted with the man’s every breath. Kim Dokja very unsubtly looked the man up and down, hoping that his expression showed enough of his distaste.
“Yeah, no,” Kim Dokja said, tugging at the man’s jacket. “Not sure what you’re going to do with the rest of the outfit, but we gotta get rid of this hideous thing.”
The man scowled. “No.”
Kim Dokja shrugged, stepping off the elevator. He tried to help, not his fault this man was stupid. “Suit yourself.”
And that’s how they ended up walking through the bustling streets at 1 am, attracting stares with every step. Well, more specifically, the man next to him was attracting all the attention. Kim Dokja just happened to be there.
It was honestly kind of admirable how the man was able to walk forward like there was nothing going on around him—like he owned the street. Kim Dokja eyed the crowd slowly parting in front of them. The fact that people took initiative to clear their path definitely helped the man bask in his main character moment of walking along the empty street, surrounded by people pointing at him and cameras flashing everywhere. Kim Dokja squinted against all the light.
Is this what celebrities felt like? He looked at the man beside him, feeling a little bit like the gaudy yellow suit was starting to grow on him.
Along the way, there were a few brave souls who broke out from the crowd to either ask for the man’s social media accounts–no doubt shooting their shots–or to follow them, curious as to where such a high profile and attractive man was heading to. Both of these groups were defeated by a simple look from Kim Dokja’s companion. He didn’t know a person could fit that much disgust and scorn in a simple eye movement.
Eventually, they managed to arrive at their destination. Kim Dokja plopped down into his favorite seat in a dark corner, the plastic creaking slightly under his weight as he leaned against the wall. He waved at the old lady who owned the restaurant; if it could even be called that. It was a small hole in the wall shop that had cheap food and even cheaper drinks. He’d been going here since he was a broke highschool student beaten black and blue by people who had anger issues and no outlet for it.
They were also open obscenely late, something that he had always appreciated. As a highschooler, it was somewhere he could read or do his homework in peace. As an overworked office worker, it was a nostalgic and comforting place where he could get food and unwind quietly with his phone after working under dozens of tyrants.
“Back so soon?” The old woman said, setting down two beers and a small tray of Kim Dokja’s favourite snacks. “Don’t tell me you already miss me.”
“Of course I did,” Kim Dokja said, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Who wouldn’t miss auntie’s amazing cooking?”
The old woman laughed, ruffling his hair. “And who taught you how to be a charmer?”
“With all the men flirting with auntie and trying to be her next husband, I had to pick up a few tricks here and there.”
The auntie laughed even more, shaking her head as she stepped away. “You get an extra round on the house just for that!”
The words were familiar. She had never charged him for anything in high school, and she never charged him for anything now, even though he was already an adult with his own career. It was always a battle to get her to accept his money, and it was one that he gladly fought every time he came here.
He could feel the man’s gaze across from him. Kim Dokja stared back. “What?”
“Is this the place you were thinking of?”
Kim Dokja’s eyes narrowed. This man better not say anything bad when the auntie was right there within earshot. “Yeah, and what about it?”
The man looked at his face a little longer before taking a sip of his beer. “Nothing. It’s…comfortable.”
Damn right it was. Kim Dokja relaxed a little. He popped a piece of fried chicken into his mouth, moaning as the blend of sodium and oil hit his taste buds just perfectly. The man’s knuckles turned white. Kim Dokja rolled his eyes and pushed the plate towards him.
“I know you want some,” Kim Dokja said, chewing another piece. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell any of your high profile and very snobby friends that you ate fried chicken from a little roadside shop.”
“That’s not what I want,” the man said, but he grabbed some chicken nonetheless. Hypocrite. Kim Dokja hid his grin into his beer when the man finished the plate off. Before he could look for the auntie, she was already at his elbow with more plates of meat and beer. Kim Dokja pretended not to see the wink she sent his way.
“What’s your name anyways,” Kim Dokja said. “I never asked.”
“Yoo Jo–” The man paused. “Hyukjong.”
“Johyukjong?” Kim Dokja asked, making sure he heard it correctly. The man—Johyukjong—nodded. Wow. He thought he had it bad. At least his name didn’t sound like three different names mushed together.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Kim Dokja.”
The man just grunted, but Kim Dokja didn’t pay him any mind. A comfortable silence settled over the table, with both of them sipping at their drinks and focusing on the steaming hot food in front of him. Kim Dokja finished the rest of his beer and reached for the next one.
Just as he thought, hidden places like this were much better. Not that he needed any confirmation, but today’s experiences with the too-fancy bar just cemented his desire to stay away from places like that in the future. It must have been all the work getting to him and causing a mental break.
A large hand wrapped around his wrist as he brought the glass to his lips. “Are you sure you should drink that?” Johyukjong said.
Kim Dokja, with his stomach full of good food and alcohol, just grinned. He was warm and comfortable, so he let his brain to mouth filter go even more than he usually does. “Aw, are you worried? No need to be, this was my original plan to begin with.”
Yoo Johyukjong just raised an eyebrow. “You wanted liver damage?”
“Life is short,” Kim Dokja said. “Why not?”
“You’re going to regret this tomorrow.”
“Will I?” Kim Dokja said, bringing the mug to his lips. He tilted his head back just enough to drink, but not enough to break eye contact, and he maintained that pose even as he finished the last drops of beer.
The man’s eyes darkened. Kim Dokja shivered, even though he could already feel his cheeks flushing with the heat; the auntie always did like to turn the heat up when he was there.
“You will.”
“What does it matter?” Kim Dokja leaned forward, the table between them small enough to let him get close. “Unless you're going to do something about it?”
“You sound like you want me to.”
“What if I do?”
“So? What does that have to do with me?”
“It’s the least you could do to thank me for bringing you to such a cute and comfortable local shop,” Kim Dokja said, shamelessly. “Now go be a decent person and help me deal with the consequences of this in the morning.”
Yoo Johyukjong froze. “What?”
“I’m saying that you should take care of me,” Kim Dokja blinked slowly, looking at the small flush that had appeared on his companion’s face. His heart pounded.
“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re saying.”
He was right. Kim Dokja didn’t know what he was saying. The words were just tumbling out of his mouth. But the man’s eyes were dark and his vision was blurred from the alcohol and he was still sleep deprived—a combination that led to a complete lack of inhibition.
“I am drunk,” Kim Dokja agreed. “But I also know what I’m saying; those things aren’t mutually exclusive. Take responsibility for your actions.”
The banter was light and fun, with each quip only serving to elevate the tension between them. He just said whatever came to mind, not exactly expecting—
“Okay.”
Kim Dokja choked on his beer. “What?”
“I said, okay.” Yoo Johyukjong said. “I’ll take responsibility.”
Kim Dokja quickly plastered a smile onto his face, trying to hide his shock. He felt a bit like there was a trap hidden in those words, but he just chalked it up to overthinking. “Good. Glad to see you’re a decent person.”
“I am,” Yoo Johyukjong murmured, wiping away the beer that had spilled onto Kim Dokja’s lips. “But remember, even if you forget this tomorrow, it’s too late to back out now.”
Kim Dokja’s breath hitched, but he met the other man’s eyes regardless, not one to back down from such a blatant challenge. “I never go back on my word.”
“Neither do I.” Yoo Johyukjong grinned back. He raised his mug, handing Kim Dokja another one. Their glasses clinked together softly before they both started drinking.
As Kim Dokja stared into the pair of dark eyes in front of him, more alcohol making its way through his body, he couldn’t help but feel like he had done something a little more dangerous than give himself potential liver damage.
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