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Kim Dokja is the prettiest boy in the year. A loner who reads every waking hour of the day, his pretty dark eyes hungrily soaking in every word on each page.
How Yoo Joonghyuk wishes the boy would turn his gaze upon him.
Hey, baby, won’t you look my way?
Yoo Joonghyuk thinks he’s handsome. He doesn’t like to brag, but if he had a nickel for every time a girl has fallen for him, he would be rich.
A nickel for a guy? He wanted Kim Dokja to be his first.
I can be your new addiction.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s given the boy so many chances to ask him out, so many opportunities, so many hints. He sits next to him in the mostly empty English Literature class. He hangs around the library Kim Dokja frequents, sitting always within sight of the boy. He even switches from his expensive caramel mocha coffee to a simple cafe latte from the coffee shop Kim Dokja visits every Monday and Wednesday.
And…
Hey, baby, what you gotta say?
Nothing.
All you’re giving me is fiction.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s a little miffed, to say the least. Kim Dokja doesn’t even look his way when he arrives early to the most boring class in the school and plops next to the petite student. He just continues to write what must be the assignment due that morning.
Yoo Joonghyuk would’ve offered to help if he weren’t distracted by the slender thing that is Kim Dokja’s wrist as it flicks with every pen stroke.
I’m a sorry sucker.
He’s so slim, he thinks, eyes trailing down Kim Dokja’s white button-up to his waist. It’s small too.
Yoo Joonghyuk wonders what it would be like to lay his hands on his hips.
And this happens all the time.
He snaps out of his distracted gaze when a soft, feminine voice calls out Kim Dokja’s name.
“Kim Dokja!”
Kim Dokja looks up from his paper. Other than books (and occasionally his phone, Yoo Joonghyuk observed), Kim Dokja’s eyes also answered to Yoo Sangah, his female best friend.
“Sangah-a.” Yoo Joonghyuk hates how Kim Dokja’s voice softens as he meets the girl’s eyes. He hates how Kim Dokja won’t look at him the same way—at any way. “How are you doing?”
“Fantastic,” her irritatingly bubbly voice replies quickly as she walks over. “Dokja-ya, I’m going to this party tonight. Will you pleaseee join? Someone’s bringing mad alcohol! Well, not that I’m going to drink a lot, but it’s the expensive kind and I have to try a little bit.”
I found out that everybody talks.
She’s going to that party, too? And Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t think Kim Dokja was going to go anyway. If he had gone to parties before, Yoo Joonghyuk was sure he would’ve seen him.
“Sangah-a, I have this History paper due—”
“Next week, and knowing you, you’ve probably already finished it,” she interrupts, bringing out her best imitation of what they must call ‘puppy eyes’. “Pleaseeee? How can you go through college without even experiencing a single party?”
Kim Dokja’s lips—his beautifully soft and red lips—adorably purse into a thin line. His eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, like it does whenever he’s doing his homework in the library—wait, is Kim Dokja actually thinking about it?
Yoo Joonghyuk wants to start convincing the boy to go to that party immediately, but wouldn’t that look so hopelessly pathetic?
“Dude, she’s got a point.” He’s saved by a companion, who rounds up behind the girl and slings an arm around her shoulder. “Legends say if you don’t get at least a little tipsy sometime during college, you’re going to end up alone and dry for the rest of your life.”
Everybody talks.
“Dry?” Yoo Sangah asks, tilting her head to face her friend and missing the way Kim Dokja’s ears flare up with a tinge of red as he shoots Han Sooyoung a glare. Yoo Joonghyuk is glad she doesn’t see it.
“Kim Dokja,” Han Sooyoung says seriously, but the mirth in her eyes betray her voice. “Do you really want to die alone, not ever knowing what it feels like to have se—”
“Alright!”
Everybody talks.
Yoo Joonghyuk hides his surprise at Kim Dokja’s agreement by turning to his bag and mindlessly looking for his notebook.
“Alright, alright. I’ll go to that stupid party.” He hears Kim Dokja say, resignation clear in his voice.
“And you promise to have a drink?”
“One.”
Yoo Joonghyuk (mentally) cheers (like he did all the work) while Yoo Sangah excitedly claps her hands together.
The lesson couldn’t have gone by any slower. The day feels like a snail running a marathon. But night eventually falls, and Yoo Joonghyuk stands in front of his mirror, fixing his hair for what must have been the hundredth time.
Rapid knocks echo through his single-bed dorm, and he reluctantly leaves the mirror to answer the door. There were only a few people who would dare disturb him this late, and only two of them knew what was going on tonight. But Han Sooyoung would be with Yoo Sangah.
“Lee Seolhwa,” he greets the white haired woman, closing the door behind him. She smiles and gestures with an arm. Yoo Joonghyuk easily slips his own into hers, accompanying her as they walk down the corridor
“I hear Kim Dokja is coming tonight,” she says casually. Except that Yoo Joonghyuk has known her for years, and nothing is ever casual with her.
“Really?” He replies uninterestedly. (At least he thinks he did, so why is this damn woman smirking at him?)
“It’s all the talk in the girls’ dorms. Everyone wants to get to know him. He is attractive, after all.”
And doesn’t that make Yoo Joonghyuk’s blood boil? It continues to bubble and threatens to overflow when he enters the college common room and sees some no-name girl twirling her stupid hair at Kim Dokja, laughing obnoxiously loudly at something he says. (She’s in his economics class, and she is failing. She isn’t good enough for Kim Dokja.)
He’s about to stalk over there and throw the girl aside when he feels a placating hand on his shoulder. It pulls him down to her level.
“Don’t be so desperate, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Lee Seolhwa whispers with a smile, letting him go and disappearing to god knows where.
“Heyyyyy EVERYBODY!”
Yoo Joonghyuk turns around to see a very drunk Han Sooyoung standing on the coffee table, waving around an empty, fragile wine glass.
“Let’s play a GAME~!”
And that’s how Yoo Joonghyuk ends up sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor with a shot cup in his hands and an empty wine bottle in front of him. His peers sit beside him, forming a circle with the bottle at the centre.
“Tell us your History grade for the last test,” Lee Seolhwa demands with a vicious smile.
Han Sooyoung warbles and wails loudly, taking what must be her seventh shot that game.
So far the most interesting things that has happened includes Yoo Sangah showing the most scandalous photo she has of herself, not without a face full of embarrassment, Lee Hyunsung attempting his first ever handstand push up on three shots of vodka and falling flat on his face, and Han Sooyoung calling up her parents absolutely hammered and telling them she was a stripper before hanging up.
Yoo Joonghyuk himself has avoided four turns by drinking shots of alcohol, but agreed to arm wrestle Lee Hyunsung (and narrowly win), and call up his little sister to ask what her favourite animal was (she said it was a wolf, like he’d told them).
It’s half an hour to midnight. The large group of thirty or so people has dwindled to a dozen or ten. Yoo Joonghyuk’s too lazy and tired to count (and just a little bit tipsy).
“Yoo Joonghyuk~” He hears Lee Seolhwa call out his name all melodiously, being a little off herself. “The bottle landed on you.”
Yoo Joonghyuk looks down to see the head of the open wine bottle facing towards him. Sighing, he looks around at the remaining people with a questioning gaze. What is it this time, and who would be the one to ask?
“Who was your first—”
“PLAY GAY CHICKEN WITH KIM DOKJA!”
All heads swerve to Han Sooyoung (who is absolutely without a doubt, the drunkest in the room as her words slur and mesh together), pointing a brazen finger at a processing Kim Dokja.
Yoo Joonghyuk has no idea what ‘gay chicken’ is, but Kim Dokja clearly does when his face lights up in recognition before erupting into a sudden blush.
“What is ‘gay chicken’? A game?” Yoo Sangah asks, saving Yoo Joonghyuk himself the trouble of asking, which he really didn’t want to because the words ‘gay chicken’ sound so odd.
Han Sooyoung bursts into chaotic laughter, all high-pitched and snorting, a mixture of giggling and guffawing. Yoo Joonghyuk thinks it’s an ugly sight, losing herself in public. Times like these are when he wonders why he even befriended her in the first place.
“It’s exactly like a game!” She giggles, her sweater-covered hand rubbing at her eyes. “You two like, act gay wid each oder until someone chickens oud.”
“Han Sooyoung!” Kim Dokja hisses, glancing nervously between the girl and Yoo Joonghyuk. It’s the first time he’s looked at Yoo Joonghyuk, the first time their eyes met, and Yoo Joonghyuk can finally truly look at the wondrous shade of black Kim Dokja’s eyes are: a rare mix of ebony and onyx that reminded him of the night sky on cloudless evenings.
“And neither of them is gay anyway. So, what’s the point of this stupid game?” He hears that same economics girl mutter under her breath, clearly looking to be discreet, but she says it loud enough for everyone to hear. (“But that is the point of the game!” Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t know who says it.)
It started with a whisper.
Yoo Joonghyuk, emboldened by her cocky declaration of their sexuality (he was very much, very gay), gets up to sit directly in front of Kim Dokja, pushing aside the wine bottle.
He starts small: a hand on Kim Dokja’s. His thumb rubs circles around Kim Dokja’s index knuckle, and he doesn’t break eye contact with the small man. He wants to give Kim Dokja time to pull away, and he expects him to because Kim Dokja didn’t seem gay (he did, but no one had ever seen him date anybody before). But he doesn’t, and Yoo Joonghyuk can see the blush rising his neck, the colour obvious against his pale skin. He continues to stare down into Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes, eyelashes fluttering with uncertainty.
Yoo Joonghyuk advances like a fish that’s seen bait. His other hand moves to Kim Dokja’s thigh, moving so slowly and resting just above the knee. It is a gentle touch, but Kim Dokja’s legs flinch in their crossed position, and Yoo Yoonghyuk can hear the hitch in Kim Dokja’s breathing. His eyes break contact, and they dart down to look.
“Eyes up here, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk murmurs, releasing his hold on Kim Dokja’s hand. It quickly comes up to the small man’s chin as he leans forward, gripping it firmly and tilting it upwards so Kim Dokja can lay his eyes on him again. He’s now close enough to see the reflection in Kim Dokja’s eyes, and the satisfaction he feels when all he sees is his silhouette is too good.
The room is silent. Yoo Joonghyuk can barely see Yoo Sangah in the corner of his eye, covering her mouth in embarrassment, while Han Sooyoung watches with some kind of excitement. But Yoo Joonghyuk couldn't care less, because what else does he need to pay attention to, when he has Kim Dokja right here? When he has all of Kim Dokja’s attention?
Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention shifts to Kim Dokja’s lips. Those naturally pink lips. They look so soft. How would they feel about him?
His fingers crawl up Kim Dokja’s cheek, rubbing idly at the corner. Kim Dokja doesn’t pull away; instead, his eyes widen, and he looks at Yoo Joonghyuk’s own lips. Like he wants it.
And that was when I kissed her him.
Yoo Joonghyuk swallows the surprised sound Kim Dokja makes when he dives to kiss him. Kim Dokja falls back onto his arms, his legs unfurling and kicking beside Yoo Joonghyuk as he regains his balance and hooks his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck, pulling him closer. Yoo Joonghyuk uses his hand, previously on Kim Dokja’s thigh, to stable the both of them by planting it on the ground behind Kim Dokja.
And then she he made my lips hurt.
Yoo Joonghyuk can’t help the way his eyes widen to saucers at the reciprocated action. Kim Dokja kisses him back hard. His tongue is the first to invade, and it invades quickly, exploring Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth with a fervent need that Yoo Joonghyuk feels.
Yoo Joonghyuk is not one to back down. He tangles one hand in Kim Dokja’s fluffy hair, the other clutching by his cheek, and he fights back.
Yoo Joonghyuk coaxes Kim Dokja’s mouth open by tugging down on his hair and spreading his cheek. Kim Dokja makes a delightful ‘ah’ sound, and Yoo Joonghyuk takes that opportunity to establish control.
Tongues pushing, teeth clacking. It is messy, and Yoo Joonghyuk swiftly wipes away the drool that slips down the side of Kim Dokja’s mouth. But eventually, they find their rhythm in the form of Kim Dokja surrendering and settling for clutching at Yoo Joonghyuk’s collar while Yoo Joonghyuk reduces him to a silently gasping mess.
“How far will they take it?”
“Who’ll pull away first?”
I could hear the chit-chat.
“Will they go for a home run?”
Yoo Joonghyuk wishes. He hopes.
Take me to your love shack.
Kim Dokja’s eyes snap open from where they were previously shut in concentration at the last comment. He makes a soft whine, hands pressing down on Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulders.
Their lips separate with a thin trail of spit connecting them.
Mama’s always gotta backtrack.
Kim Dokja is beautiful. Cheeks flushed and lips slick and shiny with saliva. Lips parted as he breathes. Hair disheveled and black eyes looking at Yoo Joonghyuk.
God, Yoo Joonghyuk wants him to never stop.
“And Kim Dokja loses!”
When everybody talks back.
And he flees.
It’s been a week since their first kiss (first kiss!) and Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t even seen the hair of Kim Dokja. They share two subjects, so four lessons a week, and two same free periods. But Kim Dokja remains elusive, skipping classes or opting to sit at the very back row of the auditorium beneath the shadows.
Hey, honey, you could be my drug.
Yoo Joonghyuk thinks about that kiss. A lot. He remembers the plump texture of his lips, the outline of his teeth, the taste of his saliva (sweet mixed with alcohol, even more so memorable).
You could be my new prescription.
Maybe he’s thinking about it too much. The memory pops up during classes, while he’s studying, and in his dreams (and how he prays for what continues in his dreams to come true in real life). But there’s no such thing as thinking too much about Kim Dokja.
Too much could be an overdose.
Whispers of the kiss had spread like wildfire over the seven days. The story is a bit mixed up now. Some say it was a light peck, some say they went to the point of stripping, some say it wasn’t prompted by a dare and happened all on its own (Yoo Joonghyuk wishes). But it all came down to the same conclusion:
Yoo Joonghyuk kissed Kim Dokja.
And now? With Kim Dokja’s very obvious avoidance, Yoo Joonghyuk is made out to be the poor little guy who got rejected.
All this trash talk make me itchin’.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s not upset. Of course not. It’s just gossip. And he’s got no verbal or clear ‘no’ from Kim Dokja. He remembers how Kim Dokja wanted to continue it.
It’s a random Thursday afternoon when Yoo Joonghyuk finally sees Kim Dokja. He is across the corridor, unaware that Yoo Joonghyuk spotted him.
Oh, my, my, shit.
This is his chance! And Yoo Joonghyuk weaves through the small crowd of girls blocking his way and walks over.
“Is that Yoo Joonghyuk?”
“Poor guy. Is he going to try again?”
Everybody talks.
“He already has enough girls wanting him. Why does he go for the pretty boy?” Came a little whine.
“Is Kim Dokja even gay? Or bi?” God, Yoo Joonghyuk pleads with every god he knows to let it be. (He has to be.)
Everybody talks.
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says behind Kim Dokja, enjoying the little jolt the man does before slowly turning around. “Can we talk—”
Cold hands reach up to his cheeks, sending goosebumps across his skin. Yoo Joonghyuk barely has time to process that Kim Dokja is tiptoeing and leaning upwards and—
They’re kissing again. And Kim Dokja initiated it.
Yoo Joonghyuk forgets what he wants to say. How can he think straight when his lips meet Kim Dokja’s in an intimate embrace? When Kim Dokja kisses him so sweetly and kindly?
“WHAT?” It's that stupid economics girl.
Good. Let her see that Kim Dokja is his.
Yoo Joonghyuk knows he has some kind of shit-eating, smug grin on his face as he leans forward to tangle his hand in Kim Dokja’s hair once again.
Everybody talks too much.
Kim Dokja’s finally his nickel. And he will be his only one.