Work Text:
Yoo Joonghyuk made every effort to move on swiftly from his humiliation at the hands of that damned rogue dokaebbi. The act had been a degrading necessity, something endured for the sake of the session. There was no point in dissecting it any further than that. Even if he wanted to, which he didn't, the scenarios would not stop just to accommodate his personal issues. That was a lesson he had already been taught more times than he cared to remember. He kept himself busy and kept himself alone.
Kim Dokja, for his part, seemed perfectly content to stick to his own party. This was ideal. Joonghyuk planned to maintain a tactical distance until the memory of intimacy faded. Emotional entanglements would only bring him pain.
…Not that he was emotionally entangled. His relationship with Kim Dokja was purely…
(The thought hit a snag. He reminded himself to focus on the dungeon he was clearing, but the motion of cutting down enemies was rote by now, ingrained in his muscles. His mind continued to churn against his will.)
Purely what? Purely platonic? They were hardly friends. Kim Dokja was, in many ways, a consistent thorn in his side. In their short time knowing each other, he had managed to infuriate, undermine, and disconcert Joonghyuk in equal measure. The man was an absolute wild card. Hard to control, even harder to predict. Intentions as opaque as the rest of him. Not to mention his uncanny ability to read people… especially when it came to Yoo Joonghyuk.
The depth of his knowledge was disturbing sometimes. What gave this man the right to understand Joonghyuk's private pains and regrets, all while giving nothing of himself in return? The lack of reciprocity was frustrating. Maybe that's why it had been so impactful to witness him in such a… vulnerable state. Stripped-down. Unguarded.
(A frustrated grunt. Another monster went down, perhaps harder than it had to.)
There were not many people who could keep up with somebody like Yoo Joonghyuk. Even fewer who could bounce back from being dropped off a bridge into a sea monster's gullet. Kim Dokja was undoubtedly resilient, with an admirable drive to protect those he cared for. Sharp as a whip beneath that irritating personality. If he could be brought under control, there was the potential for a real, lasting companionship between them.
Or… there might have been, if their relationship hadn't been forced in such a bizarre direction. The word "companion" had a sour taste to it now. Joonghyuk scowled and decapitated the closest monster with a furious slash of his sword. An arc of acidic green blood raced through the air, catching Lee Jihye in the face. She sputtered and stumbled back.
"Ah! That burns!" She complained, scrubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. He wiped a speck of green blood off his own cheek and kicked the monster's corpse to the side. It did burn, but only slightly. He didn't bother to reply as they pushed deeper into the dungeon.
This fixation is temporary and artificial, he reassured himself. It will pass.
—
Several days went by. The fixation did not pass. When the 6th scenario was finally announced, Yoo Joonghyuk was beyond restless. He wasted no time heading to Yongsan Station to pick the participants. He mentally ran over his options as he made a beeline for the central platform. The crowd parted for him, frightened by his sheer presence.
He would take Jihye, obviously, and Seolhwa. Hyunsung was a known quantity and therefore reliable. Namwoon wasn't here, so he would use Jung Heewon in his stead. She had already proven herself an impressive combat asset. The boy with the bug control was an obvious choice, as was… as was Kim Dokja.
He chewed on that as he began working his way through the dozens of guards encircling the kings' tent. Dokja would agree to participate. Wouldn't he? It was hard to say for sure. If there was anyone who might throw a wrench into Joonghyuk's plans, it would be him. The slippery bastard seemed to be playing by a completely different ruleset.
Something else occurred to him while he swung his sword in a vicious arc. An ominous flash of recollection. What had he forgotten? He saw a flickering vision of Dokja's face, soft with firelight and drink, gazing half-lidded at his beautiful party member - Yoo Sangah. Ah. Yes, he remembered now. Right after the 5th scenario ended. He had accidentally witnessed what must have been a private moment between him and his lover. And then, not two days after that, he and Dokja had fallen into that twisted scenario, and been made to…
Yoo Joonghyuk pivoted and slammed a struggling guard into three others, his expression suddenly nauseated. The realization shook him. More had been sacrificed than he initially thought. The relationship with Yoo Sangah clearly hadn't been consummated, considering Dokja's claim of having no previous experience, and the injustice of it was glaring. He should not have been the one to bring Kim Dokja to bed for the first time. Joonghyuk knocked the final guard unconscious and stalked to the tent, guilt dogging his every step.
It was his suggestion, he thought, trying to calm himself. His choice.
There was a chorus of startled yelps when he tore down the canvas wall. The man who had been speaking threw himself hurriedly to the floor. A ring of faces turned to him in open shock. Joonghyuk's attention swept over every person in attendance, settling on the only king who didn't seem remotely surprised to see him.
Dokja met his gaze without flinching. He raised his eyebrows and took a bite of his biscuit, as if to say, took you long enough.
Joonghyuk's brow furrowed. This was the first time they'd seen each other face to face since the incident. He found himself wanting to say something, to acknowledge it somehow, but this wasn't the time. It might never be the time. He turned to address the gathered leaders instead.
"I'm here to announce the participants for the next scenario," he declared, voice wreathed in iron. "Speak now if you have a complaint."
The president tried to speak. Yoo Joonghyuk crushed his hand beneath his boot. Dokja chewed the biscuit placidly.
"Ack! Bodyguards! Where are my bodyguards?!"
This guy was irritating. Couldn't he see that his bodyguards had already been knocked out? Joonghyuk pressed his boot against the man's back and pushed down until he ran out of breath. He lifted his icy gaze to the rest of the circle, daring them to react.
None of them did. There was a trembling in the air as they waited for him to continue. Kim Dokja's eyes sparked with approval, which Joonghyuk noticed, for some reason. He removed his boot from the president's back and straightened importantly.
"Here is the roster. The first pick will, of course, be me. The second, Lee Jihye…"
He carried on down his list, addressing each party member in turn. He could feel Dokja watching him. By the time he had reached the second to last pick, that expectant little smile had vanished completely, replaced by a displeased furrow in the brow. Joonghyuk turned to face him with some reluctance. He was uncertain if this was the right decision. Still, his voice was steady. He would not separate Kim Dokja from his lover. He refused to take anything else from him.
"...You can pick the final participant amongst yourselves," he said, and broke eye contact.
Dokja stood abruptly from the table. His expression was tight with anger. Joonghyuk left without another word.
—
The bastard showed up anyway, of course. Joonghyuk had expected it. The two of them stood side by side to activate the warp crystals.
"You came," he said, simply.
"Yes," Dokja replied. His voice was unusually cold. "I hope that won't be an issue for you."
"It doesn't matter if you sit this one out," he insisted, but that only seemed to piss Dokja off more, so he continued bluntly, "You have a woman you love."
Dokja blinked. He turned his head and stared at Joonghyuk as though he had just sprouted broccoli from his ears.
"What?"
Joonghyuk wanted to tell him that he should lay with his lover while he still could, override the memory of their unnatural encounter with something more genuine. He wanted to banish the strange tension crackling between them. Most importantly, he wanted Dokja to stop looking at him like he had no brains in his head.
"It will be hard going forward," he said, feeling defensive. "This might be the last time you can be with her. It isn't something to take lightly."
Dokja shook his head a little, apparently struggling to process what he was hearing. He turned to face him more fully.
"That's why you didn't pick me?" He blurted out. "Because you think I have a woman to stay alive for?"
Irritation prickled up Joonghyuk's neck. He was trying to be thoughtful, dammit.
"Do what you want," he snapped, turning his face away. "I don't care if you die."
"Too harsh," Dokja shot back, then paused, seemingly considering something. His expression had gone strange.
"You're mistaken, by the way," he said after a moment. He spoke gently, almost paternally. "I'm really not interested in anything like that. A relationship, I mean. I'm not sure where you got the idea from, but, ah… I would dispel it, if I were you."
…Why did it feel like a rejection?
"Don't speak nonsense," Joonghyuk said sharply, and then he didn't want to say anything else. "Hurry up. We need to enter the scenario."
They both turned their attention back to the task at hand. Joonghyuk crushed his heart in his chest, disturbed by the way it had reacted.
—
Kim Dokja smiled, shading his eyes from the sun.
"You're late, Yoo Joonghyuk."
Joonghyuk glared down from the felled head of Yamata no Orochi. The massive creature was writhing in the dirt, momentarily disoriented but far from incapacitated. This whole mess could have been avoided. What, exactly, did this idiot look so pleased about?
[ The constellation 'Sovereign of Eight Heads' wants your blood. ]
Joonghyuk readied his grip on the handle of the knife. His attention shifted to the enemy.
"Stay away," he commanded. "I'll handle this."
"No," Kim Doka replied lightly, taking a step forward. "Not this time."
Joonghyuk's eyes darted towards him, narrowing suspiciously. Was he joking? There was no way he could take on something of this level and survive.
"You'll die," he stated clearly. "Your skills aren't high enough."
"I made a promise," Dokja insisted. "I have to be the one to kill him."
The snake-beast was rising again. They didn't have long to talk. Joonghyuk shifted, preparing for battle, mentally urging Dokja to get to his goddamn point.
"What promise?"
"I swore that I would take revenge on the constellations that killed her."
There was a brief pause as Joonghyuk processed the words. Shin Yoosung of the 41st regression. He looked again to the narrative-grade constellation, weighing his options in that last creeping moment before combat would erupt. He couldn't let Dokja throw himself into this obvious suicide mission. It was honorable, though, and he… owed him a debt, of sorts. One that was weighing heavy on his mind. If he helped with this, maybe it would make them even.
"This is a fool's errand," he announced. "You have no chance by yourself." A pause, and then, reluctantly, "We do it together."
Surprise was a good look on Kim Dokja.
"...Alright. Together, then."
One of the snake's heads darted towards them, demolishing the earth with the force of its bloodlust. Both men moved to dodge it. Joonghyuk's instincts took over, and he lost himself to the intense back and forth of truly fatal combat. His muscles strained with effort. Every skill in his arsenal was called upon. He would win, of course, but it would not be easy.
The fight wore on. Fatigue began to tug at him. He realized belatedly he was fighting on his own. When he searched for Kim Dokja, he found a man lounging about on the sidelines, watching with an appraising gaze. A hot, bewildered fury rose in him.
"Kim Dokja!" He gasped, bringing his sword down in a mighty arc. Three heads toppled to the ground. "Are you just going to sit there?! You said you were going to kill him!"
"Ah! I meant that I would deal the final blow," Dokja called back, smiling brightly. There was a smugness to it that made Joonghyuk want to abandon the snake and attack him instead. He wrenched his attention back to the fight, narrowly avoiding getting his head bitten off.
That bastard! That smug, manipulative bastard! What had he been thinking, letting himself nurse feelings for somebody like-
Focus. Stop that. Focus.
He gritted his teeth and decapitated one more head before getting slammed into the castle by the creature's tail. The impact winded him. He was exhausted and bleeding, his legs unsteady, his vision swaying. He struggled to his feet and charged through the cloud of dust anyway.
"Kim Dokja," he coughed, but Dokja was already waiting for him. His white trench coat remained unblemished. He tilted his head with casual arrogance.
"I'll take over now," he said, as though that were reassuring. Joonghyuk felt a sudden panic grip him. The constellation wasn't sufficiently weakened. Dokja was about to die. He was about to watch Dokja die, again. The idea bothered him more than he might have expected.
"You're not strong enough," Joonghyuk snapped, desperation finally cracking his stoicism. "You can't win on your own! Fall back!"
Dokja touched his shoulder. Dust swirled around his head. He looked like some sort of angel, if an angel were a stupid goddamn son of a bitch. He opened his mouth to say something irritating. Joonghyuk growled and shoved past him, making a clumsy lunge for the blade he had dropped.
"Hey! Give me that!" Dokja cried, startled. He grabbed inelegantly at Joonghyuk's jacket in an attempt to stop him. They tumbled hard to the dirt. There was a spirited scuffle. In his usual state, Joonghyuk could have easily overpowered him, but he was injured and tired and soon found himself thrown onto his back, held down by body weight and sheer determination. Dokja's cheeks flushed with exertion as he pinned his shoulders against the ground with surprising force. He was straddling his chest now, panting and triumphant, something bright glinting in the darkness of his eyes.
The whole situation flustered Joonghyuk more than he cared to admit. A vein stood out on his forehead.
"I'll kill you," he gasped.
"Wait until later," Dokja replied, rolling off of him to snatch the dagger that would slay Yamata no Orochi. He was on his feet in an instant. Joonghyuk coughed blood into his hand and struggled to sit up. All he could do was watch as Dokja sprinted towards the beast, the air crackling around him, his body igniting into a painful blue-white silhouette. He moved with the decisive precision of a lightning strike.
He's pushing too hard, Joonghyuk thought, tasting ozone. Reckless fool…!
The electrified figure vanished and reappeared. There was a sound like a thunderclap. Three of the four remaining heads fell wriggling to the dirt. Dokja stumbled but did not falter, even when blood erupted from his nose and mouth. It was hard to tell if he was grimacing or smiling. His teeth flashed a bright and giddy red as he moved in for the next attack.
Yoo Joonghyuk realized several things at once, gazing up at this incredible display of willpower.
First, he had underestimated Kim Dokja.
Second, he had underestimated the depths of his own attraction.
Third, and most upsettingly, he was beginning to realize that this idiot did not value his own life.
—
The castle swirled with revelry and relief. It was difficult to think over the roar of conversation. Joonghyuk prepared slices of vegetables and meat, his sleeves rolled up, his expression focused. Dokja sidled up beside him.
"Aren't you drinking?"
Joonghyuk glanced at the bubbling cauldron of alcohol with vague distaste. He began rubbing down cubes of meat with practiced motions. There weren't many options for seasonings here, but he felt confident about the flavor profile he had pulled together. He studiously ignored the soft prickle of Dokja's attention on him.
"I don't consume things made by others," he said bluntly, moving on to the vegetables. Dokja scoffed.
"Are you worried I'm going to poison you?"
"It's an issue of taste."
"Taste! You're too picky. I had some myself, and it's good."
Joonghyuk assembled the skewers and put them on the grill. He usually wouldn't have let the conversation go on this long, but he was feeling relaxed, and Dokja's presence… wasn't unwelcome. The fight had cut it close. Better to have him where he could see him. He wiped his hands on a rag while the kebabs sizzled away.
"I saw what you put in there," he said, starting to clean up after himself. "The mixture is thoughtless. I refuse to drink it."
Dokja seemed unimpressed with his reasoning. He leaned his hip against the table and watched Joonghyuk wipe down the knives.
"Are you a mixologist now, as well as a cook?"
There was a light flush to his cheeks. The air was warm from the grill, and from so many bodies packed together. Yoo Joonghyuk felt overly aware of their physical proximity. He considered letting the conversation die out, but found himself replying automatically. "I could certainly do better than that."
"You can't make such bold claims until you've tasted it," Dokja challenged, holding out his drink and wiggling it in the air between them. Joonghyuk eyed it warily. He had no interest in tasting the concoction. Still… he had witnessed it being made, and knew there was nothing harmful. It would be fine to humor him. He took the offered mug and peered inside. Dokja looked genuinely shocked, which made sense, because Joonghyuk would not do this for anybody else.
He sniffed the golden fluid before taking a conservative sip. It was extremely alcoholic and burned going down. The aftertaste was pleasant enough.
"I could do better," he confirmed. The drink was returned without ceremony. Dokja laughed a little, shaking his head like he really couldn't believe it. The mannerism was endearing. Joonghyuk allowed himself to think so, in the privacy of his own mind. "Not even the power of a constellation is enough to wow you, huh? As expected from Yoo Joonghyuk." Dokja swirled the liquid, looking down at it thoughtfully. His smile had a nostalgic cast to it.
"I'll admit I don't know much about alcohol," he continued after a moment. "How it's supposed to taste, I mean. I never liked it when I tried it. The smell bothers me."
Joonghyuk wasn't sure how to reply to that. Dokja had always been talkative, irritatingly so, but he almost never shared anything about himself. Not with Joonghyuk, anyway. In the past, he would have shut it down immediately. Now, though… the idea that this was some attempt to open up, some kind of bid for connection… it made him uncomfortable. Was he meant to reciprocate? Did he want to? It was a bad idea. He should walk away now.
He watched the meat glisten and said nothing, allowing Dokja to carry on with his one-sided conversation.
"To be honest, I don't understand why everybody likes this stuff so much," he was saying now, tapping a finger against the rim of the mug. He had nice hands, Joonghyuk noticed. Unscarred. "It's literally poison. Why should I drink something that tastes bad, just so I can get a headache and make a fool of myself? Hah… people are strange."
"You don't need alcohol to make a fool of yourself," Joonghyuk interrupted.
Dokja blinked, then laughed, a beat too late.
"Yes, well. It seems to be helping me now," he said, and then looked away, feigning interest in the crowd. The tips of his ears had gone pink. Joonghyuk was confused by the reaction. He hadn't meant it to be cruel, but the hesitant camaraderie forming between them had curdled in a way that made him feel wrong-footed. For the first time in a very long time he wished he were a better conversationalist. The thought made his pride bristle. Why did he care? Their situation was already complicated enough without playing at being friends, and it wasn't his responsibility to be nice. He lifted his chin and glared.
"Kim Dokja. Are you drunk?"
Is that why you look so sad?
"What?" Dokja's attention flicked back to him, offended. "Of course I'm not drunk. Tipsy, at most. The liquor was stronger than anticipated, alright?"
The kebabs were ready to be turned. Joonghyuk tended to them carefully, not missing the way Dokja's eyes followed his movements. Was it because his sleeves were rolled up? No, stop, not relevant. He focused on the meat. Dokja kept talking, for some reason.
"I should have stopped after the first sip." He huffed out another laugh, self-deprecating. "I was only in it for the stat boost, of course, but the others were drinking, and I… you know what, it doesn't matter."
"The stat boost is negligible," Joonghyuk replied flatly. Dokja scratched his ear and pulled a face, like he had been hoping this wouldn't come up.
"You're so pessimistic. Everything helps, right?"
"Don't be stupid." A disapproving glance. Was he being dumb on purpose? "The buffs are minor, and immediately counteracted by the negative effects of intoxication. That's obvious. You should know better, Kim Dokja."
"Hah. Ahah. Yes, I should." He smiled, glancing down with a strange expression. "I really should."
An awkward silence descended. The party carried on around them. Joonghyuk expected Dokja to take another sip of his drink, but he set it aside, seemingly uninterested now. One of the tables across the hall broke out into song and he turned his head to look at the commotion. His profile was indistinct against the amber glow of torches and cooking fires.
Joonghyuk took the opportunity to inspect him discreetly. He knew it wasn't just the lighting. Even once noticed, the passive ability that hovered over Kim Dokja's features was easy to miss. It operated as a sort of see-through veil. His face wasn't obscured, really, just hard to parse. There was a discreet blurring of edges that made it difficult to see all of him at once. Joonghyuk didn't like it. He wondered if he could force his way through, now that he knew what he was looking for.
The rowdy party faded to background noise. He focused first on the specific slant of his eyelashes, calling on the image still stuck in his memory.
Distinctive. Surprisingly delicate. Yes, that's what they looked like. The sloping roundness of his eyelids, clashing with a sudden sharpness at the edges. Tactician's eyes. Calculating and faraway. Warm light swam in his pupils as he watched the singers fall over each other. He seemed unaware he was being dissected, which was good. Joonghyuk committed the shape freshly to memory and moved on.
The resting angle of his eyebrows came next. Not bushy, not thin, halfway hidden behind poorly styled bangs. He looked tired. Bruised evidence of sleepless nights. His nose wasn't strong in profile. His cheekbones were not high. Very little about him was pronounced, in fact, but his face had a certain quality to it that tricked the eye into thinking him more angular than he was. Thin lips, well-shaped. Currently curled into a sorry little smile. An androgynous chin that swept smoothly upwards into the narrow line of his jaw. The disparate pieces clicked into place all at once, and Kim Dokja came fully into focus.
The experience was jarring. It was not a striking face, really, but Yoo Joonghyuk was struck by it nonetheless. He'd never paid such close attention to what makes a person look like themselves. It felt unbearably intimate to see him like that - surrounded by people, unaware of his own exposure. He pulled back from it on instinct. The veil dropped back into place. By the time Dokja glanced over again, Joonghyuk was dutifully pulling kebabs from the grill, not looking at him at all.
He didn't intervene when Dokja reached over and snatched one without asking.
"Alright. Let's see how good your cooking is," he announced, and took a big bite. His expression shifted from expectant to shocked to begrudgingly amazed as he chewed on the morsel. Just then, Lee Seolhwa emerged from the crowd, beautiful in the cheery half-light. Joonghyuk's attention shifted. She smiled at him as she approached.
It felt strange, seeing the two of them standing together now. They shouldn't be anywhere near the same category. Nonetheless, Joonghyuk's stomach was doing something he did not approve of as she nudged past Dokja, reaching to take a kebab for herself.
This wasn't the Lee Seolhwa he had lost. He knew that. Still, sometimes his heart would ache when he saw her, like a bad knee during a thunderstorm. Would that be Dokja, one day? Another ghost in a line of ghosts? That was assuming he even showed up in the next round. Was it better or worse, if there could only ever be one of him…?
It was a sobering reminder. Joonghyuk watched them talk with a hollow feeling settling into his body, reality sliding harshly back into place. It had been foolish to indulge any part of this. The smart thing was to forget.
"Delicious, isn't it?"
"Yes," Dokja admitted reluctantly, taking another bite. "It's… really incredible. Unbelievable, actually. Damn…"
Seolhwa laughed and touched his shoulder before drifting off to rejoin the others. Dokja sighed and shook his head, bordering on sulky. He looked genuinely put-out by how good the meat was. Despite everything, Joonghyuk's lip quirked into a smile, pride winning out briefly over despair. It felt good to make that fool eat his words. He found himself wondering what other foods Dokja liked, what he usually ate. An unbidden flash of tactile memory - Dokja's bones moving under skin - the handsome sharpness that hid under his clothes. He had run through their encounter more times than he cared to admit. The image was familiar to him, by this point, and no longer flustered him as it once did.
He remembered the feel of his hipbones and was certain the man didn't feed himself well. He considered cooking for him more often. He imagined sharing a camp, as detrimental as that would be to his already teetering sanity. He realized belatedly that Dokja was staring at him with a very strange expression. The furrow in his brow disappeared the moment their eyes met. Swept under the rug, suspiciously quick. Not for Joonghyuk's eyes. An old paranoia came back to him and his shoulders stiffened.
"What?" he demanded, rounding on his companion.
Are you reading my mind, bastard?
Dokja finished the kebab and set the stick on the table, calmly averting his eyes.
"Just amazed by your cooking," he said. He was acting too natural. Joonghyuk didn't trust it for a goddamn second.
I didn't think of it on purpose,he thought fiercely. I don't think of you at all. Get out of my head.
The veiled face betrayed nothing. He was studying the wood grain with some intensity. Joonghyuk's hand flexed by his side, growing desperate for a reaction.
Does it… does it disgust you…?
"You're a good cook," Dokja announced abruptly, "but it's still not proof you can mix a drink."
Joonghyuk stared at him.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You can't be good at everything, Yoo Joonghyuk." (There was something weird about his tone. A forced cheeriness, a bitter tint. Joonghyuk was distracted by the utter nonsense coming out of his mouth.) "That's all I'm saying. It's probably best to stick to what you know, don't you think?"
A beat of silence.
"...Do you want to die - "
"Alright, ah, I have some things I need to do," Dokja interrupted, steadfastly ignoring the killing intent growing in his direction. His smile had a slightly manic edge to it. "I'll be going now. Thanks for the food."
He turned and left without further fanfare, shoving his hands in his pockets and pushing into the crowd. He seemed eager to be anywhere else. Joonghyuk made no move to follow. He tracked the flashing white of his coat, though, waiting until it disappeared completely before forcing himself to look away.
—
Later in the evening, he would find Kim Dokja again, under strange circumstances.
"Lee Hyunsung."
Hyunsung stood abruptly from where he had been leaning against the wall. His shoulders jumped to attention.
"Ah! Yes!"
Joonghyuk jerked his chin towards Dokja's unconscious body, resting on the stone floor with a peaceful expression.
"What happened here?" Disapproval snuck in as he jumped to conclusions. "Did that idiot drink more?"
"No, no, Dokja-ssi is… he's doing something," came the quick response. "It was intentional. He told me to look out for his body while he's gone."
Most people looked younger when they were asleep. Dokja was no exception, his mouth hanging open in an undignified way. Joonghyuk didn't like how exposed he was. Lying practically out in the open. He turned his icy gaze to Hyunsung.
"You can go. I'll watch him."
"What?"
He took an impatient step closer.
"You are relieved, Lee Hyunsung."
"That's not… uh, the thing is…" Hyunsung stood very straight, determination settling on his brow. "Respectfully, I don't take orders from you. Dokja-ssi entrusted me with this. I won't leave his side until he wakes up."
Joonghyuk paused. He still wasn't used to Hyunsung not listening to him. He looked down at Dokja again, wondering why he was feeling so protective all of a sudden and really not liking the answer he came up with. His priorities were shifting at an alarming rate, and for what? Physical attraction? An irritating smile? He had to be better than this. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked. This man's well-being was not his concern.
Hyunsung shifted awkwardly. The silence stretched.
"He'll be alright," he said eventually, his voice dropping into gentle reassurance. "Dokja-ssi always has a plan, and I'm here to keep an eye out. You don't have to worry about him tonight."
Yoo Joonghyuk prickled. What was with that understanding tone?
"I don't care what he does," he declared, turning on his heel to stalk back inside.