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Yoo Joonghyuk lies in bed restlessly as cool sweat runs down his temple. Kim Dokja sits at his side, noticing the sweat, and uses a towel to gently pat it away.
It was suspicious enough that Yoo Joonghyuk never showed up to his lecture, but Kim Dokja assumed that maybe the professor let them know in advance that there wouldn’t be any class that day. However, when Kim Dokja returns to the dorm and finds Yoo Joonghyuk bunched up in bed, his hair sticking to his forehead, and his skin warmer than what is considered normal, he should’ve seen it coming.
"’You capable of feeding yourself?" Kim Dokja asks, already knowing the answer, when the other can't even get up. Sighing, he takes the bowl from the tray and carefully brings a freehand to Yoo Joonghyuk's back. He’s most definitely unsuitable for taking care of such a heavy man, especially with Kim Dokja’s questionable diet and sleeping habits, but he can’t just turn a blind eye to his poor roommate. All Kim Dokja can do is lean closer as Yoo Joonghyuk's head falls on his shoulder.
"Okay, open up." He grits out. The position is far from comfortable. It didn’t help that Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair tickled Kim Dokja's neck, but he opted to ignore it and focused on making sure he got better.
They spend thirty minutes close together, with Kim Dokja blowing on the spoon and Yoo Joonghyuk complying mutedly. Once he couldn’t eat anymore, Kim Dokja helped him settle back down into bed.
“You said it’s not good to lie down after eating.” He jokes, placing the empty bowl on the floor as he fetches the damp towel from the basin.
Yoo Joonghyuk grumbles. “This is an exception.” His crumpled expression is admittedly cute, with his cheeks flushed and mouth drawn in a stubborn frown. Kim Dokja secretly traces it with the ends of the towel, from the corners of his lips up to the rise of his cheekbones.
When their eyes meet, Yoo Joonghyuk’s foggy irises have somewhat cleared up. He’s wearing an expression that almost feels stolen, a tenderness he probably shouldn’t be on the receiving end of.
Kim Dokja freezes as tension rises in his chest, his heart caught in his throat. He quickly swallows, then, raising the towel, carefully dabs at the space between Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows, bringing the cloth up to gently cover Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes.
His first kiss goes horribly wrong.
He’s the farthest thing from a fantasist, but that doesn’t mean his expectations are consistently pragmatic.
Kim Dokja is level-headed when he needs to be, but it’s a shame no one’s taught him how to be anything but impulsive when it comes to romance. He blames it on Yoo Joonghyuk. It’s all his fault. Ever since he took care of Yoo Joonghyuk, the guy has been following him everywhere, sticking to him like glue.
While Kim Dokja admits to being a dumbass occasionally, he can practically feel the weight of Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze. He knows what it means. He doesn’t have to read between the lines because the lines are clearly merged and shoved in his face.
Uncomfortable with how long Yoo Joonghyuk's been staring at him, he makes sure the classroom remains empty before getting it over with and kissing the guy.
Their teeth clack painfully, and Kim Dokja flinches away to cover his mouth. "Shit."
The wave of embarrassment pumps in his ears, blood rushing to his face as he assesses Yoo Joonghyuk’s reaction.
Yoo Joonghyuk's tongue runs over his teeth, looking unaffected, and Kim Dokja doesn't know if he should be grateful or annoyed. Sitting by the windows wasn't the smartest move because now Yoo Joonghyuk’s soaking in whatever the sun has to offer. He’s too handsome for his own good.
The taller man leans in, looking far too amused. "What was that?"
It only makes Kim Dokja widen the distance, leaning away, and Yoo Joonghyuk grabs his wrist, hoping to pry off the hand covering his mouth. Kim Dokja lets him.
Frowning to the side, a hand is brought to his chin.
They finally meet in the middle, this one much gentler than last time.
"I got you these." Kim Dokja offers Yoo Joonghyuk a bouquet of white dahlias. With everything that’s been going on, one could describe this as courtship, but he truthfully found a small flower ship thirty minutes away and thought it would be nice to offer his roommate his warmest regards. His friends are in the club room as well, but they seem more immersed in replaying the game footage than in a potentially budding romance that could ruin the entire friend group if they aren’t careful. "Congratulations on your game."
Chancing a glance at the man instead of staring down at his worn-down shoes, he sees a rare look of bewilderment. Huh. He never knew that You Joonghyuk could make that expression.
It's a long moment of nothing being exchanged between the two, and the silence gets stifling. He starts to wonder if giving him flowers is too much. Lowering his hands, he forces out a laugh. "Actually, maybe I should do something else with these. You don't like white– sorry."
"No." Yoo Joonghyuk says, snatching the bouquet in a motion so quick it makes Kim Dokja jump. "These are mine."
Kim Dokja blinks, staring at how Yoo Joonghyuk cradles the flowers protectively. His eyes seem to tremble with nerves, yet he wills himself to keep them steady on Kim Dokja, as if his gaze speaks of words that are only for Kim Dokja to hear. There's pink dusting Yoo Joonghyuk's ears, and the sudden knowledge of having this effect on him makes Kim Dokja's knees go weak. He has to remind himself to keep his legs straight unless he wants to plummet to his death. The hummingbird in his chest soars, and he can't help but fall for Yoo Joonghyuk all over again. In his defense, it’s been so easy.
So he laughs, nudging him. "Yours."
It's a strange concept to love, and an even stranger notion to be on the receiving end of it. Yet when Yoo Joonghyuk reaches for Kim Dokja's hand, he thinks that reciprocity is the warmest feeling in the world.