Chapter Text
Kim Dokja stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding a ladle like it was a sword. The air was thick with the smell of something that definitely 'wasn’t' edible, and the smoke detector was already blinking in mild panic. A pot of what used to be soup hissed threateningly on the stove.
He poked it, and it hissed back.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, glaring at the pot like it had personally offended him.
The front door opened with a soft 'click'. Heavy, precise footsteps followed.
“You’re...early.” Dokja said, instantly flipping the ladle behind his back like a guilty teenager caught with a cigarette.
Yoo Joonghyuk appeared in the doorway, sharp in a black three-piece suit, eyes narrowing the moment he caught the smell.
“Are you trying to summon demons again?” he asked flatly.
Dokja sniffed, refusing to be embarrassed. “It was supposed to be seaweed soup for your birthday. Which I may or may not have forgotten until Han Sooyoung called and yelled at me.”
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t answer. He simply walked past him, turned off the stove, and opened the windows Snow White style with practiced efficiency.
Dokja watched him, arms crossed. “You could at least pretend to be touched!"
“I am. Deeply moved.” Joonghyuk said in his usual deadpan voice as he examined the charred remains in the pot. “Next time, just give me a card. Or a rock. Rocks are safer.”
“I thought you liked it when I try.”
“I like it when you 'live'.”
Dokja smirked, leaning against the counter. “So dramatic. I survive every time.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Yoo Joonghyuk turned back, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves before washing his hands. He opened the fridge, sighing. “Sit down. I’ll cook.”
“Why don’t you ever let me take care of you, huh?” Dokja asked with mock offense as he slid into a stool at the island counter.
Joonghyuk paused, looking at him over his shoulder. “You do. Just... not with fire.”
Dokja blinked. A second passed. Then he grinned like he’d won something. “Was that flirting? Did the Ice King just melt a little?”
“No.”
“It was definitely flirting.”
“Be quiet and set the table.”
“Say you love me first.”
Joonghyuk turned to him with the flattest look possible. “Table. Now.”
And Kim Dokja, grinning like a devil, obeyed.