Work Text:
The last thing Yoo Joonghyuk remembers is being stabbed.
But something's wrong—he’s not back on that godforsaken train this time. Instead, he’s in a room that he’s never seen before, on a bed that’s not his, under sheets with a threadcount so low he’d never even consider buying them.
Which begs the question: what the fuck is going on?
He’s certain that he died. If there's one thing he knows the feeling of, it’s dying a painful and miserable death.
He also knows that after death, the beginning awaits him again. The start of the scenarios, keeping him stuck in an endless loop.
But this isn’t the train. There isn’t a blue screen in front of him, there’s no Bihyung or other low-level dokkaebi cackling as they announce the rules of the scenario-riddled world. Instead, he’s in this room. This unfamiliar, frigid room.
The blinds are broken, letting light stream in and pour over the bare expanse of what Yoo Joonghyuk assumes is a bedroom. There’s not much life—a bookshelf in the corner, stuffed full, and a night table next to the bed, housing the room's sole light. It’s a chipped and worn antique lamp, a crack running down the center. Other than that, all that’s occupying the room is the bed and Yoo Joonghyuk himself.
It’s odd—his body seems to have no blemishes, perfectly unharmed like the beginning of each regression. Yet, unlike the beginning of each regression, he feels safe. There was none of the usual uneasiness, none of the gut-wrenching despair that he usually feels.
Sliding his legs out of the bed, Yoo Joonghyuk finally notices the pajamas he’s wearing. Or rather, pants. There is no shirt. The pants—which appear to only go down to the middle of his calves—are a disgusting neon green, with what seem to be dancing pineapples scattered about.
Maybe he’s in hell.
He’s used up all of his regressions, and now he’s in hell. There’s no other explanation.
“Joonghyuk-ah!”
What?
Yoo Joonghyuk looks up and sees a man poking his head through the doorframe.
The demons in hell are pretty, is Yoo Joonghyuk’s traitorous first thought.
“Do you want an egg with breakfast?” The man asks, leaning further into the room, wearing an apron the same revolting green as Yoo Joonghyuk's pants, also portraying the same dancing pineapples.
He’s most certainly in hell.
Ⅲ
Apparently he’s in Seoul.
The man’s name is Kim Dokja and he’s a salaryman at some third-rate software company, not a demon.
Which Yoo Joonghyuk found out in a totally normal, average, non-regressor way. Like digging through Kim Dokja’s wallet the second he left to go to the bathroom.
So, fine, Yoo Joonghyuk’s not stuck in hell.
Instead, he’s stuck in an apartment with a man who seems to know everything about him, while he knows nothing about Kim Dokja.
“Joonghyuk? Joonghyuk-ah!” Kim Dokja waved a hand in front of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, breaking him out of his trance.
“Yes, Kim Dokja?” He replied, blinking back into reality.
“I told you! Just call me hyung. Kim Dokja is too formal, I’m not some old man!” Kim Dokja huffed, crossing his arms as he squinted at Yoo Joonghyuk.
He’s cute, Yoo Joonghyuk’s evil, lying heart said. “Okay, hyung.” His pathetic, weak-willed mouth said.
“I have to go to work now, don’t burn down the apartment, okay?” Kim Dokja grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, squeezing it. “And don’t get lost, got it?”
“Ok, hyung,” Yoo Joonghyuk repeated, voice muffled by Kim Dokja’s hands.
“Good.” Kim Dokja pulled his face down, and Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened as he felt lips brush his forehead. “Be good today, okay Joonghyukie?”
With a final grin, Kim Dokja waltzed out the door, leaving Yoo Joonghyuk burning red and his traitorous heart pounding frantically.
I’m fucked, he thought, shuffling over to the couch and dropping himself onto it, ignoring the squeak it let out. I’m so fucked.
Ⅲ
After an hour of deep breathing, Yoo Joonghyuk’s heart finally stops racing, and he gets up to explore. Earlier, he’d just followed Kim Dokja around like an eager little puppy, but now he could explore the apartment freely.
It’s just—the apartment is so small. Other than the bedroom and kitchen, the only other rooms are a pitiful living room—housing the squeaky couch, a beat up PC setup on a desk, and a table with books scattered across it—and the bathroom that, upon further inspection, is probably a zoning violation based on how cramped it is.
Yet, despite it’s obvious flaws, Yoo Joonghyuk can’t help but feel that it’s comfortable—somewhere to call home. Something about it feels familiar, makes him feel safe, a feeling he hadn’t encountered in a long, long time.
Maybe it’s instinct that brings him to the PC in the corner of the living room. Maybe it’s familiarity. He was a pro-gamer, before the scenarios. Even through them, his title of Pro-Gamer remained.
As the PC powered on, Yoo Joonghyuk realized he didn’t know the password. Faced with the log in screen, he stared at it for a moment. Considered. Then, hesitantly, typed in his birthday and pressed enter.
“Kim Dokja, you fool,” Yoo Joonghyuk whispered to himself as the PC unlocked.
The desktop was a mess. App icons floated around, no rhyme or reason to their placement. There were 3 instances of Google. 7 of what appeared to be a pdf title “TWSA”. And—bright red logo standing out—1 instance of VALORANT.
The very game that Yoo Joonghyuk no-lifed for hours upon end in the past. He’d gone to Worlds for VALORANT. Won the Worlds Championship. Flew back to Seoul, got on the subway back home, with the intention to no-life the game some more, only to be thrown into hell.
So, in all fairness, it only made sense that he clicked on the app, booting it up.
Everything looked the same, except instead of the account being named Supreme#King, it was named DKOS#yjh. And, well, surely Kim Dokja wouldn’t mind if Yoo Joonghyuk played some.
Quickly skimming the settings, Yoo Joonghyuk adjusted them to what he preferred, glancing at Kim Dokja’s past rank as he went through the account.
Iron I.
He didn’t even know that was possible. Surely he’d gotten it through throwing games. Well, not that it mattered for him.
Muscle memory drew him back to the queue button, locking an agent, shooting down the enemy team like flies. And, with nothing to do all day while Kim Dokja was gone, he climbed, higher and higher.
Iron quickly turned into Bronze, Silver, Gold. Gold morphed into Platinum, Diamond, then into Ascendant. Slower, Ascendant into Immortal.
It was after his rank up game to Immortal II that Yoo Joonghyuk heard a noise. Faint, almost silent. The hairs on the back of his stood up, gooshflesh prickling its way up his forearms.
He stood up, quietly making his way to the kitchen. Grabbed two knives that, if Yoo Joonghyuk had to be honest with himself, probably couldn’t even cut through a carrot. But even the dullest knives could kill someone with enough force.
Gripping the handles like he would his swords, Yoo Joonghyuk crept towards the door, pressing himself up against the wall next to it.
The noise had gotten louder, most certainly someone approaching the apartment. It was probably Kim Dokja but…
It stopped, and Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his heartbeat in his ears.
What if… this is just another scenario?
Nausea made its way up his intestines, burning in his throat.
The lock rattled, door opening and—
“Joonghyuk-ah! I’m home!”
Fuck.
The knives slipped from his grip and fell to the ground with a clatter as Yoo Joonghyuk pulled Kim Dokja into a tight hug.
It’s real, it’s real, it’s real.
“Welcome home, hyung.” Yoo Joonghyuk murmured into Kim Dokja’s shoulder, pressing him close.
“Ah—that glad to see me are you?” Kim Dokja replied, an amused tone in his voice as he wrapped his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk. “I… Joonghyukie, are those knives on the ground?”
“No.”
“But—”
“There are no knives on the ground.”
Ⅲ
Yoo Joonghyuk needed to get a job.
He’d been playing housewife for the past week, but it was clear that Kim Dokja was struggling to afford everything for the two of them.
Not that getting a job was a problem. Working sounded fine. Nice, even. Something mundane, a vastly different day-to-day activity than what he was used to.
The problem was that he had no papers. No identification. In this world, Yoo Joonghyuk did not legally exist.
But.
There was one job he knew how to do, knew how to do well, that didn’t require him to legally exist.
In the past week, Yoo Joonghyuk had become the #1 player on the VALORANT leaderboard in Asia. And, much to many top players' chagrin, had stayed there, for a week straight.
So, with a clickbait title, a pretty face, and his ever-so-charming personality, surely he could make some good money through streaming. The webcam and mic on Kim Dokja’s PC was a little shitty, but it’d get the job done.
Making an email and signing up for Twitch took him mere minutes. It was when he got to creating a username that Yoo Joonghyuk realized that the title of Supreme King was something he didn’t want to associate with anymore. But… he’s already got a name, kind of.
DKOS.
When he had asked Kim Dokja, the man had laughed and explained that it stood for “Demon King of Salvation”, a title bestowed upon him by a friend.
Tying himself to Kim Dokja didn’t seem like too bad of an idea to Yoo Joonghyuk. The full user was DKOS#yjh anyway, so his name was also there. Kim Dokja thought he was clever when Yoo Joonghyuk had asked about the indicator tag, turning bright red and coughing to change the subject.
DKOS was taken, but DKOSalvation wasn’t. Perfect.
Switching over to Twitter, he did the same, creating a new profile by the username of DKOSalvation.
He chose a picture that Kim Dokja had taken two days ago. A candid snapped right after Kim Dokja had called out his name. Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that his ears were red, or how soft his eyes were. But it was the only picture he could find, so his profile photo it became.
There was also the problem of receiving money through Twitch. While he couldn’t make any just yet, when it eventually started happening he needed a registered card to receive his earnings. What a lucky coincidence that when Yoo Joonghyuk had stolen Kim Dokja’s wallet to figure out who he was, he also memorized his debit card number, and all of Kim Dokja’s bank information happened to be stored on the PC!
With all of that sorted by 9am, Yoo Joonghyuk now had 6 hours to create a stream with a clickbait title and start amassing his new following.
Gnawing on his bottom lip, Yoo Joonghyuk eventually decided on #1 APAC VALORANT player wipes the floor with pros as his title. Surely that would attract some attention.
Ⅲ
It attracted attention.
So much attention, in fact, that the only thing stopping him from becoming a Twitch Affiliate by day two was the four day requirement of three or more viewers.
He made sure to be more interactive during his streams now, replying to chats and helping his teammates.
Instead of just glowering at the screen when he died, he spent the time pointing out mistakes his teammates made. Poor angles, misplaced util, or being too obvious in their plays.
By day 4 Yoo Joonghyuk had an average of 11,500 viewers per stream, 10,495 followers and 1,579 subscribers. It was probably breaking some record, but it also meant that once he got the Affiliate status he'd make at least ₩2,500,000. Surely enough for Kim Dokja to buy some proper food.
Ⅲ
It was a random Wednesday, about three weeks after Yoo Joonghyuk woke up that Kim Dokja brought someone else to the apartment.
He was cooking dinner for the two of them—a pathetic kimchi fried rice recipe since his Twitch paycheck hadn't materialized yet—when the lock rattled and Kim Dokja stepped through the door.
“Joonghyuk-ah, I'm home!” Kim Dokja called, tossing his jacket onto the worn table next to the door.
Yoo Joonghyuk pivoted towards the door, smiling at Kim Dokja. “Welcome home, hyung.”
“Ah, I'd like you to meet someone, Joonghyukie.”
Yoo Joonghyuk felt his heart drop out of his ass. Meet someone?
“You remember how I said I wanted children someday, right?”
He was going to throw up.
His pulse pounded in his skull, head throbbing.
“Hyung, I—” He what? Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t even know what he was saying.
Kim Dokja giggled, reaching behind him to pull something towards him.
There was a rock in Yoo Joonghyuk's throat, blocking his breathing. His eyes stung. Why did he care so much? About this man he’d met only 3 weeks ago, who seemed to love him so much, who he was probably in—
Shin Yoosung stepped out from behind Kim Dokja.
Specifically, 12-year-old Shin Yoosung.
Shit.
This is even worse. Kim Dokja doesn’t have a girlfriend, this is a scenario and Kim Dokja is going to die. Kim Dokja is going to die and it’s all Yoo Joonghyuk’s fault.
Maybe he can make a deal with Bihyung. Lock Kim Dokja away so nothing can get him. Wrap him in a blanket and tuck him away. Fuck.
“Joonghyuk-ah? Are you okay?” Kim Dokja appeared in front of Yoo Joonghyuk, lips pulling into a concerned expression.
“I—”
Kim Dokja pulled Yoo Joonghyuk into a hug, arms wrapped around his waist. “I know taking care of a kid will be a lot. But she really needs our help.”
“Hi, Dokja-ahjussi’s friend!” Shin Yoosung piped up.
Kim Dokja whipped around, scowling. “I am not an ahjussi!”
Yoo Joonghyuk's heart rate slowed, as he started to process the sight in front of him. This wasn't a scenario. Kim Dokja wasn't going to die. Kim Dokja doesn't have a girlfriend. Kim Dokja is just a stupid squid.
Kim Dokja just stole a child off the street.
Yoo Joonghyuk exhaled, dropping his forehead onto Kim Dokja's shoulder and groaning. “Hyung, you can't steal children.”
“Hey! I didn't steal a child!” Kim Dokja huffed, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of Yoo Joonghyuk's head. “She said her parents left and she didn't know where to go!”
“So her parents went on vacation and you kidnapped their child.” Yoo Joonghyuk concluded. At least Kim Dokja didn't have a girlfriend.
“Hey!” Shin Yoosung stomped her foot and glared at Yoo Joonghyuk, “I wasn't kidnapped!”
“Shin Yoosung, do you know where your parents went?”
Shin Yoosung huffed, and Yoo Joonghyuk couldn't help but smile. The same Shin Yoosung then, it appeared. “They left. They said they're not coming back. Dokja-ahjussi knows them.”
“They're pieces of shit,” Kim Dokja grumbled, patting the back of Yoo Joonghyuk’s head. “They didn't deserve Yoosungie anyway.”
“Ok, hyung. Do you like kimchi fried rice, Shin Yoosung?” Yoo Joonghyuk unraveled himself from Kim Dokja, lightly grabbing Shin Yoosung’s hand and leading her into the kitchen.
Shin Yoosung sat down at the table, swinging her legs as she watched Yoo Joonghyuk portion out 3 servings of the fried rice.
As it turned out, all was well. Kim Dokja did not have a girlfriend, Yoo Joonghyuk was not back in the scenarios, and now Yoo Joonghyuk got to raise a child with Kim Dokja. She may have been kidnapped, but Yoo Joonghyuk had been able to tell that Kim Dokja was insane from the moment he saw the hideous apron he had chosen to wear.
Married… his stupid lizard brain growled. That's illegal, his rational brain replied.
Ⅲ
The first issue with kidnapping a child, Yoo Joonghyuk realized, was the fact that the apartment only had one bed. Yoo Joonghyuk himself had been sleeping on the floor next to Kim Dokja for the last three weeks, since he was too tall for the couch and the bed was too small for both him and Kim Dokja.
But this Shin Yoosung was not the same one that had slept on the ground with Yoo Joonghyuk for regression after regression. This Shin Yoosung was merely a child, and it only took a ten second silent discussion with Kim Dokja for him to agree that she would get the bed.
Yoo Joonghyuk handed her the same offensive pants he'd woken up in, an old hoodie, then tucked Shin Yoosung into the bed, patted her on the head, and turned the light off.
When he returned to the kitchen, he found Kim Dokja massaging his temples at the counter.
“I may have underestimated what having a child entails,” Kim Dokja mumbled, dropping his head to grind at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “We're too broke for this.”
“Well, first of all,” Yoo Joonghyuk started, walking over to Kim Dokja and pulling a glass out of the cabinet, “We didn't have a child, unless I am ignorant of your biological capabilities, you stole a child.” He poured water from the kettle into the glass, dropping a tea bag into it.
Kim Dokja removed his hands long enough to glare at Yoo Joonghyuk, sightline flicking between the tea that Yoo Joonghyuk was making and his face. “I cannot have a child, last time I checked.” Kim Dokja huffed.
With one finger, Yoo Joonghyuk pushed the glass of tea towards Kim Dokja, a pout forming on his face. “How sad. How recently have you checked?”
Kim Dokja's right eyebrow twitched, a scowl forming on his face. “I'm not joking, you sunfish bastard. I don't know what we're going to do.”
Yoo Joonghyuk hummed, pushing the tea closer to Kim Dokja. “I may have…”
“You may have what?”
“Mm, I may have gotten myself a job.” The tea was at Kim Dokja's elbow now, and the man snatched it, pulling out the teabag and tossing it at Yoo Joonghyuk's face, where it landed with a wet splat.
“What job?”
“I stream on Twitch.”
“Wow, I feel like a mother of a rebellious teenager. How prosperous you are.” Kim Dokja knocked back the tea in one gulp, gently setting the glass back on the counter.
Yoo Joonghyuk peeled the teabag off of his face, tossing it into the garbage. “I'll get paid soon. Any money is important.”
“Yeah, yeah you're right,” Kim Dokja sighed, placing the glass next to the sink and turning to face Yoo Joonghyuk. “We’ll just sleep on the floor until we can afford another bed, I guess.”
“I think we need a bigger apartment, hyung.”
“I think you need to stop talking.”
Ⅲ
“Mm, you need to stop ego peeking, Jett. The Viper knows you're there every time.” DKOSalvation sighed, resting his cheek in his palm.
“Suck my dick, you bum.” The Jett responded, then disconnected.
Uriloveshr: wow what a loser
tlsyaouri: booo kill him!!
Wukong: what dick
steponmedkos: WHO gets to radiant and can't even take advice lololol
VenomsTutu: ? He wasn't ego peeking
Vaniiide: @venomstutu are you blind??
“Chat, I don't understand why you would play this game if you don't want to improve.” DKOSalvation groaned, massaging his temples. “How did he even get this high?”
Vaniiide: boosted
Uriloveshr: bribes
steponmedkos: hes playing for the vibes
VenomsTutu: You're a hypocrite, you never take advice either
“That's because I am perfection, of course.”
tlsyaouri: dkos-nim is so humble
Wukong: who gave you ego pills this morning
Uriloveshr: dkos-nim is a liar
Vaniiide: dkos-nim is spewing bullshit
“Joonghyuk! You fucking sunfish bastard!”
DKOSalvation paled, eyes widening. “Shit, I'm—fuck—sorry, my hyung is home early, I have to end stream now—”
The screen turned black, then into DKOSalvation’s start screen.
tlsyaouri: what the hell?
steponmedkos: ??whys he afraid of his hyung
GoldSpear: haha deserved I hope this loser gets beat up
Vaniiide: @GoldSpear kys
steponmedkos: @GoldSpear kys
Uriloveshr: @GoldSpear kys
Ⅲ
“Joonghyuk! You fucking sunfish bastard!”
Yoo Joonghyuk felt the door slam open, and not a second later Kim Dokja's scream pierced through his headset.
He could feel the blood leave his face, mumbling out an excuse for his stream before hastily ending it.
Yoo Joonghyuk yanked his headset off, dropping it on the table and stumbling over his feet to get into the kitchen.
Kim Dokja stood in the entryway, a scowl marring his face as Yoo Joonghyuk skidded to a stop against the counter.
“Hi, um, hyung, work doesn't end for another three hours?” the statement came out a question, and Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his throat tightening.
“You piece of shit,” Kim Dokja threw his bag onto the floor, striding over to Yoo Joonghyuk and grabbing him by the collar. “Why the fuck did I get a notification today that twenty million has been deposited into my bank account?”
Ah. So that was what this was about.
Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't getting cast onto the streets, he wasn't being sent back to Bihyung, he was just in trouble with his hyung for making too much money.
“I told you I got a job,” Yoo Joonghyuk chose to say, and immediately regretted it.
“I'm going to fucking kill you,” Kim Dokja hissed, eyes narrowed, shaking Yoo Joonghyuk so that his head bobbled around. “Nobody makes that much fucking money from Twitch, you sunfish bastard, tell me what you're actually doing. What is it, kidnapping chaebols while I'm out there slaving away?”
Kim Dokja is a fool. Yoo Joonghyuk must be a fool too, for wanting to kiss him.
“Hyung, if you want we can go look at my channel together.” Yoo Joonghyuk pointed towards where the PC was set up. “It's all right there.”
Kim Dokja huffed, but removed his hands from Yoo Joonghyuk's shoulders, stalking toward the PC.
“Yoo Joonghyuk this won't—why are you streaming right now?”
“Shit.” Yoo Joonghyuk slid over to the PC, taking in the chat that was moving at the speed of light, the starting screen he must've accidentally pressed, the 10,000+ live viewers. “Fuck.”
“Have I ever told you that you astound me with your stupidity sometimes, Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja crossed his arms, staring at Yoo Joonghyuk like a disappointed mother.
“Have I ever told you that you're really hot when you degrade me, hyung?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked absentmindedly, chewing on his finger as he closed down his stream application by application. “There we go,” he said, quickly pressing alt + f4 twice before looking up at Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja, who was currently bright red. “I—you—what the fuck, Joonghyuk?”
Yoo Joonghyuk blinked, confused. “What?”
“Did you even comprehend what you just said, bastard?!” spluttered Kim Dokja, hiding his face in his hands.
“Hyung, I distinctly remember asking if you could get pregnant three days ago.”
“Shit! Don't say that!” Kim Dokja wailed, shaking his head.
Yoo Joonghyuk stepped closer to Kim Dokja, lightly pulling his wrists to remove the man's hands from his face. “I still want to know, hyung.” breathed Yoo Joonghyuk, as he took one of Kim Dokja's hands, bringing to his face as he began to kiss Kim Dokja's palm, then down to his wrist. “Can I find out?”
Kim Dokja made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a gurgle, before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed forward into Yoo Joonghyuk's arms.
Ⅲ
With Kim Dokja's newfound wealth, Yoo Joonghyuk was tasked with the job of finding a new apartment. The current one wasn't big enough when there were two people living in it, let alone three.
The only problem was the budget Kim Dokja had given him. No more than ₩3,000,000, but that meant that all the apartments Yoo Joonghyuk looked at had pathetic kitchens. That was Yoo Joonghyuk's biggest concern, at least.
There was an apartment in Hannam-dong that Yoo Joonghyuk kept going back to. It had a nice view, and there was a good school nearby that Shin Yoosung could be enrolled into. The subway ride to Kim Dokja's company was only 20 minutes, and there was enough room for Yoo Joonghyuk to build a proper setup for streaming. It was in the budget, too.
It was the perfect apartment. Except for the fact that it only had two bedrooms. Yoo Joonghyuk was sure Kim Dokja would object to that, even if the rest of the apartment was perfect.
Of course, there was nothing else to do but try.
Ⅲ
“Yeah, that looks great actually.” said Kim Dokja, muffled by the mouthful of tofu he was munching on, when Yoo Joonghyuk showed him the apartment at dinner.
“Joonghyuk-oppa, can I see?” Shin Yoosung reached over, pulling Yoo Joonghyuk's phone from his hands and inspecting the apartment. “I agree with Dokja-ahjussi, it's awesome!”
“Hey! Why am I ahjussi but Joonghyukie is oppa?” Kim Dokja complained, pointing his chopsticks at Shin Yoosung with furrowed brows. “I'm only 28!”
“That's, like, a million billion years old!” Shin Yoosung shot back, harrumphing as she popped a piece of tofu into her mouth.
“Yoosungie, it's not Dokja-hyung’s fault that he's an old hag,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, piling more rice onto Kim Dokja's plate. “Eat up, hyung.”
“I'd kill you if you weren't making money, you know.”
Yoo Joonghyuk sighed, tiredly looking at Kim Dokja. “You couldn't kill me if you tried, you squid.”
“Joonghyuk-oppa, can I go back to school soon?” asked Shin Yoosung, sliding Yoo Joonghyuk's phone back across the table.
Kim Dokja laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Well, we have to legally adopt you first… currently I think you might be a missing child.”
“Hyung, you weren't supposed to actually kidnap a child.”
“My housewife needed more work to do. I thought a child would be a good way to placate him.”
Ⅲ
Within the month, the three had moved out of the older apartment and into the new one. It came partially furnished, with two beds, a couch, and some kitchen supplies.
Yoo Joonghyuk spent the first week shopping. He bought food, sheets, towels, clothes, everything that the apartment needed to house their odd little group.
He had ordered a PC, set to arrive in a few days that he could build, which he placed in the bedroom that he shared with Kim Dokja.
Arguing that there was already a bed provided, and that buying a new one and two sets of sheets would be a waste of money, Kim Dokja had agreed to share the bed. The man might not have been broke anymore, but he was still cheap.
Halfway through the third day, Yoo Joonghyuk was bored. Shin Yoosung occupied herself by taking some easy online courses on the old PC, Kim Dokja was at work all the time, and he couldn't even go out to do anything, lest Shin Yoosung tragically evaporate while he was gone.
He walked up to her, leaning down next to her. “Yoosung-ah, do you mind if I stream?”
Shin Yoosung took off the headset, looking up at Yoo Joonghyuk with wide eyes. “Really? I wanna watch!”
“Yeah,” Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, “I was thinking about just setting up the apartment on stream, not gaming this time, though.”
Shin Yoosung side-eyed Yoo Joonghyuk, frowning. “You want the entire world to know you're Dokja-ahjussi’s housewife?”
Yes.
“Yoosungie, I am not a housewife,” Yoo Joonghyuk said through gritted teeth.
Yes, you are, his stupid lizard brain refuted, you like being Kim Dokja's housewife.
“Maid? Servant? Butler? Are those more appropriate?” Shin Yoosung questioned, batting her eyelashes to fake innocence.
“I make more money than him.” Yoo Joonghyuk gritted out, left eyebrow twitching. Shin Yoosung must be the spawn of Kim Dokja, being able to push his buttons so easily.
Shin Yoosung hummed, tapping her chin in thought. “Well, you stay home all the time, you cook, you clean, you look after me…” her fingers counted off each offense, none of which Yoo Joonghyuk could argue with. “Ah! You must be a housewife then!”
“I—”
Mmm, Kim Dokja's housewife. Marriage… There went Yoo Joonghyuk's stupid lizard brain again. Dokja-hyung's wife… me.
“It’s—”
“I mean if you deny it that much, Joonghyuk-oppa…” Shin Yoosung sighed, resting her cheek in her hand. “I guess you don't like Dokja-ahjussi, then.”
“No, I—”
“Though I suppose househusband may be the more accurate term for you,” Shin Yoosung hummed. Evily.
“If anything—”
“I guess I'll just have to wait for Dokja-ahjussi to bring home a girlfriend for you to grow some balls and ask him o—”
“Shin Yoosung.” Yoo Joonghyuk growled, glaring at the girl. Shin Yoosung, in turn, made an eep sound, eyes widening.
“I—uhm, s–sorry, Joonghyuk-oppa,” Shin Yoosung squeaked out, trembling.
Yoo Joonghyuk placed a hand on Shin Yoosung’s shoulder, who flinched. “The day Kim Dokja gets a girlfriend is the day I kill him. When we get married, I will be his housewife. Now, I need to woo him first.”
Shin Yoosung giggled, fear forgotten. “Joonghyuk-oppa, are you a tsundere?”
Yoo Joonghyuk stared at Shin Yoosung, eyes narrowing and jaw tightening. “I am not a tsundere, Shin Yoosung. I do not yearn.”
“I mean you act dark and moody, Joonghyuk-oppa, but I've seen you giggle and flirt with Dokja-ahjussi.”
“I don't giggle.”
“So you flirt,” Shin Yoosung shoots back, looking smug. “You look like a lovestruck fool whenever you look at Dokja-ahjussi. Your profile photo makes you look like some gooey sap.”
Yoo Joonghyuk glared at Shin Yoosung. “My feelings are not gooey. I may be a fool for Kim Dokja, but I am no sap.”
Shin Yoosung giggled, “Joonghyuk-oppa, you're funny, you know.”
“And you're on thin ice, Shin Yoosung. Now stand up and sit behind the PC so I can stream my housewifery to the whole world.”
“What, you don't want everyone to see your kid and think you're married to some woman?”
Yoo Joonghyuk picked Shin Yoosung up by her underarms, pulling her off the chair and placing her out of sight of the PC’s webcam. “Sit down.”
Shin Yoosung sucked her teeth as she wriggled out of Yoo Joonghyuk's grip, taking a seat on the floor. “Yes, Joonghyuk-oppa, I will do anything for you to win over the love of your life, oh beloved Dokja-ahjussi, whatever shall we do?” she monotoned, sighing and looking up at Yoo Joonghyuk expectedly. “Well? Don't you have stuff to do?”
Yoo Joonghyuk could feel a vein in his temple throbbing. Kim Dokja most certainly gave birth to Shin Yoosung. Anyone who said otherwise was full of shit. “I am going to open my stream. You are going to be quiet, surf your phone or something. Tomorrow, I am going to take you and Kim Dokja so we can legally register you, and then after that you're going to school. You will not speak a word to Kim Dokja about what I said today. Do you understand?”
Shin Yoosung rolled her eyes, “Sure, whatever.”
Good enough. Yoo Joonghyuk closed the video that Shin Yoosung had been watching—7 ways to get your friend to ask out their crush, what the hell—and opened up his streaming apps.
He picked the “Just Chatting” catergory—close enough—and set his title as Housewifery, before clicking the ‘Go Live’ button.
“Hi, uh, I know this is different than usual, but I have shit to do, and I might as well stream it.” Yoo Joonghyuk walked over to one of the boxes in the corner of the room, dragging it to the center, in view of the webcam. “This is our couch, I think.” He flipped the box over, lowering it onto its side. “Yeah, it's the couch.”
Yoo Joonghyuk wandered into the kitchen, grabbing the toolbox and knife that was on the counter. Placing the toolbox next to the couch-box, he sliced down the package, breaking the seal and opening it to reveal the various couch pieces.
Grabbing his phone—one of Kim Dokja's old ones that he was “graciously gifted” (Kim Dokja’s words, of course)—Yoo Joonghyuk opened his stream, sighing as his chat raced.
“Yes, I moved, no I didn't get kicked out, yes I still live with my hyung.” Yoo Joonghyuk took out a screwdriver, placing two pieces of the couch frame together and screwing a nail in.
A highlighted chat caught his eye, and Yoo Joonghyuk scowled. “Uriel, I'm not married to my hyung. Yet.”
Uriel, a reoccurring pest, in this life and the past.
The first time Yoo Joonghyuk had seen Uriel’s Twitch account, he'd almost thrown up. Uriloveshr, as she called herself, was most certainly the same Uriel he'd encountered many times before, the Demon-like Judge of Fire.
Throat-tightening fear, the same as when he'd first entered the scenarios, had gripped Yoo Joonghyuk when he finally realized who Uriel was.
It was only after several of Uriel's inane comments on his stream that Yoo Joonghyuk was able to rationalize that this Uriel was not the Demon-like Judge of Fire. This Uriel just seemed to terrorize him during his streams, no sub-scenarios, nor Eden nebula.
Sometimes he still seized up at some of her comments, but usually Yoo Joonghyuk was able to play along with her questionable chats she sent.
Now, Yoo Joonghyuk can see Shin Yoosung in the corner of his eye, giggling quietly at his response. On his phone, a notification that Uriel donated him 100 subs follows Shin Yoosung's laughter.
“I'm glad you find my answer amusing, Uriel. Maybe instead of buying me subs you can buy me an engagement ring so I can propose to my hyung.” He cocked his head at the camera, flashing the grin he'd started giving the constellations after his 57th regression.
Uriel donated 100 more subs, and Shin Yoosung let out an audible giggle.
Your child is going to ruin your career, quipped Yoo Joonghyuk’s treacherous thoughts. Not my child, replied his rational thoughts.
Almost immediately after Shin Yoosung's laugh, the chat flooded with messages asking who was there.
“Uriel, this is all your fault,” Yoo Joonghyuk sighed, placing the screwdriver down onto the floor next to the half completed couch frame. “That's my kid.”
“Hey! I'm not your kid! If anything, I'm ahjussi’s kid,” Shin Yoosung shot back, huffing.
Hundreds of regressions and she's never been quite so fond of anyone, Yoo Joonghyuk noted. Kim Dokja is special to everyone.
Kim Dokja is mine, his lizard brain growled.
“Yes, you're my hyung’s kid, who he stole from a park one day after school, how could I have forgotten?” replied Yoo Joonghyuk, glaring at Shin Yoosung.
“Ignore her,” Yoo Joonghyuk said to his stream, returning his attention to building the couch. “She just likes to make fun of me for being a housewife.”
“You are a housewife!”
“And yet I pay for the roof over your head,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunted, focused on screwing in a foot of the couch.
The rest of the day followed a similar trend as this, Yoo Joonghyuk answering various questions his chat asked him, while also bickering with Shin Yoosung. Uriel did, in fact, donate enough for Yoo Joonghyuk to buy an engagement ring for Kim Dokja, and he was sure that when his next paycheck was deposited Kim Dokja would have an aneurysm at work.
Yoo Joonghyuk spent the day assembling various pieces of furniture, cooking dinner, and preparing meals for the week during the stream. It was one of his most productive days in the past decade or so, even counting the days he cleared several scenarios.
His chat begged him to start cooking on stream more often, after he showed the tteokbokki that he'd made for lunch.
Yoo Joonghyuk conceded and agreed to make a YouTube channel for cooking, which, at some level, would just be another form of income for him and Kim Dokja. Soon Kim Dokja would stop having to go work at that third-rate software company altogether.
Halfway through the afternoon Yoo Joonghyuk threw Shin Yoosung into her room, tired of her incessant comments that were gradually shaping up into a piercing headache.
It was only once Yoo Joonghyuk finished making dinner—an hour ordeal only made harder by Uriel's addiction to text-to-speech donations—that he ended stream, thanking everyone profusely, and promising Uriel no less than three times that he'd send her pictures of the engagement ring.
After he'd cleaned up, Yoo Joonghyuk let Shin Yoosung out of her room, threatening her with a dishcloth.
“Not a word of this to Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk warned her.
Shin Yoosung huffed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever, Joonghyuk-oppa. He's already halfway in love with you anyway.”
Yoo Joonghyuk's lizard brain started purring. Shut up, he scolded it.
At that moment the door rattled and Kim Dokja burst through it, freezing when he caught sight of Yoo Joonghyuk leaning over Shin Yoosung, dishcloth hoisted as a weapon.
“Am I interrupting something?” questioned Kim Dokja, putting his briefcase down by the door.
“No,” chorused Yoo Joonghyuk and Shin Yoosung in unison, hastily stepping away from each other.
“I made dinner, hyung,” Yoo Joonghyuk said quickly, striding over to the kitchen.
“Mmm,” Kim Dokja hummed, “It smells delicious, good job, Joonghyukie.”
Shin Yoosung made a face of disgust. “Ew. This is like watching my parents make out.”
“Shin Yoosung, so help me God—”
“Well, we could also just make out, if that's equally as disgusting Yoosungie,” commented Kim Dokja, oblivious to the strangled choking sound that Yoo Joonghyuk gurgled out. “I'm glad you think of us as your parents though, that'll help with the adoption paper we have to sign tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to start calling you appa and Joonghyuk-oppa eumma, too?” Shin Yoosung questioned, grinning an evil little grin.
Yes, Kim Dokja is mine and I am his, hissed Yoo Joonghyuk's lizard brain. Not yet, his rational brain replied.
Yoo Joonghyuk felt his face flush. “Just because I play housewife does not mean I am your eumma, Shin Yoosung.”
“Well if she called us both appa it would be confusing, no?” Kim Dokja rationalized, tapping his chin with a contemplative look on his face. “To be fair, I am the breadwinner of this family, and if we go by stereotypes…”
“Just because the money is in your account does not mean you made it, Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk seethed, though he could feel his heart skip a beat at Kim Dokja's antics.
“Eumma, I'm hungry,” whined Shin Yoosung. “Can we eat dinner now?”
Yoo Joonghyuk gritted his teeth, breathing deeply through his nose. “One day, I am going to kill both of you.”
“But my love, however shall I survive without you in the underworld with me?” Kim Dokja crowed dramatically, gripping Yoo Joonghyuk's shoulder and chest as he pretended to faint. “My, what a terrible thing to say!”
His entire face was bright red, Yoo Joonghyuk was sure of it. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, drowning out the bullshit that was being spewed from Shin Yoosung's mouth.
My love, my love, my love, his brain chanted. Mine mine mine.
“You're right,” Yoo Joonghyuk found himself saying, “I'll only rid us of Yoosungie, so we can spend the rest of our lives together.”
“Mm,” Kim Dokja hummed, “but how would we occupy ourselves with all that time?” He dragged a finger down Yoo Joonghyuk's chest, peering up at him through his eyelashes.
Yoo Joonghyuk's treacherous heart skipped a few more beats.
“Oh my God, you're both so disgusting.” Shin Yoosung pretended to retch. “Can we just eat dinner? I've been waiting for an hour to eat this damn meal.”
“Of course, Yoosungie, appa will help set the table for you.” Kim Dokja sang, untangling himself from Yoo Joonghyuk.
Involuntarily, Yoo Joonghyuk let out a quiet whine at the loss of contact.
You were never such a coward during the scenarios, whispered his brain. So why does Kim Dokja change everything you know?
Ⅲ
Getting the adoption papers, surprisingly, was an easy affair. The official looked at Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja with mild disgust, peered closely at Shin Yoosung, who was beaming, and hastily scribbled his signature some forms before shoving them to Kim Dokja and motioning for them to get out.
The school that Shin Yoosung was to be enrolled in, however, posed some difficulty.
The vice-principal, in charge of enrolling new students, was Lee Hyunsung. Lee Hyunsung, who was a military man, if Yoo Joonghyuk remembered the last thousand or so regressions correctly. Not a middle school teacher.
“Dokja-ssi,” Lee Hyunsung sighed when they sat down in his office. “Last time I checked you didn't have any children.”
“Well, you see,” Kim Dokja started, and Yoo Joonghyuk could sense that he was plotting. “She's Joonghyuk’s child, of course!”
“Hello, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi,” Lee Hyunsung greeted him tiredly. “Dokja-ssi, don't lie. You can't enroll children that aren't yours.”
“She is mine!” Huffed Kim Dokja, crossing his arms.
“Yeah!” Shin Yoosung said, mimicking Kim Dokja's body language.
Yoo Joonghyuk rubbed his temples, a headache quickly forming. “Technically, we just adopted her.”
“We?” Lee Hyunsung exclaimed.
“I love my eumma and appa!” cheered Shin Yoosung, grinning brightly at Lee Hyunsung.
“Don't call me that.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, jaw clenched. It was one of the sharp, stabbing headaches, then.
“Just one favor for me, Hyunsung-ssi.” Kim Dokja clasped his hands together, bottom lip pushing out into a pout as his eyes glittered.
Pretty, Yoo Joonghyuk's stupid lizard brain purred. You fold like a lawn chair, the two rational brain cells he had left snarked. Yes, sighed his stupid lizard brain dreamily. I will gladly fold for Dokja-hyung.
“You know what? Fine. Enroll her, but don't come to me if there are any problems.” Lee Hyunsung pushed a small stack of forms towards Kim Dokja, then stood up. “I need more coffee for this,” he sighed, before leaving the room.
“Score!” Kim Dokja cackled, rubbing his hands together like a fly. “Easy as pie.”
“Dokja-ahjussi, you act like a pervy old man sometimes,” scowled Shin Yoosung, sliding the papers over to herself as she looked through them. “Why are there so many emergency contact forms?”
“So if you start choking it's our fault if you die, not theirs.” Yoo Joonghyuk said flatly. Had neither of these fools common sense?
“Eumma if I die of course it will be your fault.”
“Don't call me that,” choked Yoo Joonghyuk, memories of the times he'd had to kill Shin Yoosung overwhelming him. Gods, it was his fault every time she'd died, wasn't it? Whether he'd left her to die in a scenario, or killed her himself. “You won't die, I'll make sure of it.”
Nausea wormed its way up his gut, burning in Yoo Joonghyuk's throat as he swallowed.
Every one of Shin Yoosung's deaths were your fault, his brain hissed, you useless piece of shit.
Yoo Joonghyuk's breath caught, stuttering out as he tried and failed to breathe properly.
You have no right for her to call you appa, let alone eumma. What a worthless eumma you are.
He couldn't breathe. A faint hiccup escaped his throat, or maybe it was a sob. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill onto Yoo Joonghyuk's face.
A soft murmur to his right, and suddenly a warm, soft hand was caressing the back of Yoo Joonghyuk's neck, the other reaching to cup his cheek and turn his head. “Joonghyuk, Joonghyuk-ah, can you hear me?” Kim Dokja's concerned face peered down at him, thumb stroking Yoo Joonghyuk's cheek.
“I, hyung,” wheezed Yoo Joonghyuk as his throat tightened.
“Shin Yoosung,” Kim Dokja ordered. “Go give those papers to Lee Hyunsung and join your new class, I'll pick you up once the school day is over.”
“Is Joonghyuk-oppa okay?” Out of the corner of his eye, Yoo Joonghyuk could see that Shin Yoosung's usually rosy complexion had turned waxy, a pale and lifeless color.
“He'll be alright, but I need you to go give those papers to Lee Hyunsung, okay Yoosungie?”
“Ok, Dokja-ahjussi,” Shin Yoosung said, voice quivering as she grabbed the stack of papers and scurried towards the door, accidently hitting a table on the way out.
Fuck. So useless.
“Joonghyuk-ah, look at me.” Kim Dokja's voice was like a ray of sunlight, parting the clouds on a stormy day. Yoo Joonghyuk could feel a tear escape, a warm path burning down his face.
His knees were locked, fingers gripping the armrests of his chair so hard his knuckles ached.
Worthless hopeless regressor trash.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” murmured Kim Dokja, so close his nose brushed Yoo Joonghyuk's. His other hand had migrated from the back of Yoo Joonghyuk's neck to his other cheek, a warm reminder.
He wasn't in the scenarios. Shin Yoosung hadn't died. He hadn't failed anyone.
“Joonghyuk, I need you to breathe with me, okay?” Kim Dokja's forehead knocked against his, and Yoo Joonghyuk's vision became a little clearer as another tear slipped from his eyes.
Kim Dokja was so close he could almost count every blemish on his face. The faint circles under his eyes, which Yoo Joonghyuk still hadn't been able to vanquish, even though he fed Kim Dokja three square meals and forced him to sleep properly.
Can't even take care of Dokja-hyung, his brain sneered, and Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his eyes burn and throat tighten again.
“Joonghyuk-ah, are you listening to me?” Kim Dokja’s hands continued to pet Yoo Joonghyuk's face, thumbs reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I'm going to try to get us home, okay?”
“Mm,” mumbled Yoo Joonghyuk, leaning into Kim Dokja's hands.
“Can you stand up, Joonghyukie?” Kim Dokja's hands left Yoo Joonghyuk's face as he pulled away, tracing down his arms to lightly grip onto his hands. “C’mon, I know you can do it.”
Kim Dokja shimmied his fingers under Yoo Joonghyuk's, gripping his palms and lightly pulling.
Yoo Joonghyuk let himself be pulled by Kim Dokja, knees unlocking as he shakily stood up.
Can't even stand up on your own, what a pathetic piece of trash regressor.
“I'm going to get us a cab now, alright?” Kim Dokja intertwined their fingers, leading Yoo Joonghyuk to the door of Lee Hyunsung’s office. “We'll be home in ten minutes, is that okay?”
No.
“Yeah,” Yoo Joonghyuk mumbled, looking down at their hands.
Kim Dokja slowly led him out of the building, hands staying tied together even when Yoo Joonghyuk jolted under the sudden sunlight. A cab was waiting for them, and Kim Dokja opened the back door, coaxing Yoo Joonghyuk in with gentle little shoves.
Their hands stayed together the entire ride, even as Yoo Joonghyuk's vision fluctuated between being able to see and not, Kim Dokja's hand a warm reassurance.
Fool, useless, trash, his brain chanted, over and over.
Kim Dokja squeezed Yoo Joonghyuk's hand, temporarily banishing his thoughts.
This repeated in a cycle, maybe a dozen times, before the cab halted to a stop outside of their apartment building.
Kim Dokja thanked the driver, then opened the cab door, lightly pulling on Yoo Joonghyuk's hand.
“Joonghyuk-ah, come on,” he said quietly, free hand reaching to take Yoo Joonghyuk's wrist and pulling him out of the cab.
Can't even get out of a cab yourself, worthless regressor trash. You called yourself the Supreme King for what?
Involuntarily, Yoo Joonghyuk let out a whine, stumbling into Kim Dokja's arms.
Kim Dokja steadied him, wrapping his right arm around Yoo Joonghyuk's waist while keeping his left hand entwined with Yoo Joonghyuk's.
He led the both of them into the building, onto the elevator, and finally into their apartment, only letting go of Yoo Joonghyuk's hand to type in the passcode for their door.
Yoo Joonghyuk found himself being ushered inside, Kim Dokja pulling off his shoes and leading him into the bathroom, where he turned on the tap to fill the tub.
Kim Dokja began to tug Yoo Joonghyuk's clothes off, gently setting them on the toilet lid before coaxing Yoo Joonghyuk into the tub. “In you go,” he said, “It'll be nice and warm, okay?”
“M’kay,” Yoo Joonghyuk responded, too overwhelmed to form a full sentence.
Bihyung was right, all humans are useless and weak, spat his brain.
Fuck you, Yoo Joonghyuk found himself responding.
Kim Dokja cupped a handful of water and let it splash over Yoo Joonghyuk's head, warmth trickling down his face. He repeated the motion, letting Yoo Joonghyuk's hair soak up the water before reaching for the shampoo bottle.
Squirting a dollop of the liquid onto his palm, Kim Dokja flipped his hand and spread the shampoo over Yoo Joonghyuk's hair.
Yoo Joonghyuk flinched when a drop of the shampoo dripped from his hair onto his shoulder, not expecting how cold it was.
His head still felt fuzzy, discombobulated but the voice in his head had gone silent. The fuzziness was slowly becoming nicer and Kim Dokja lathered his hair in shampoo, fingers rubbing against his scalp.
“Do you like it, Joonghyukie?” Kim Dokja laughed when Yoo Joonghyuk let out something resembling a purr.
“Mhm,” the voice inside of Yoo Joonghyuk's head seemed to have fully retreated, Kim Dokja's fingers scaring it away. Now his head seemed more floaty than fuzzy, though he still felt a bit ill.
“Kim Dokja. Dokja. Dokja-hyung.” Yoo Joonghyuk rolled Kim Dokja's name around in his mouth, sighing when the fingers on his scalp pressed a bit harder. “Dokja-hyung,” he started, unsure. “Why does it feel like I've known you in all my lives?”
“Joonghyuk-ah,” sighed Kim Dokja, a disappointed look on his face. Yoo Joonghyuk felt his heart drop. “You know that it's the first rule of regression to not tell people you went back in time, right?”
What?
“Uh,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, the floaty feeling now completely gone and leaving him fully perplexed.
Kim Dokja's hands left his hair, moving to cup his cheeks instead. “I've followed you, in all your lives. I've fallen in love with you, over and over again, even though nothing will ever come of it.” Kim Dokja smiled sadly, thumb stroking Yoo Joonghyuk's face.
Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes widened as he looked up at Kim Dokja. “What?” He said, voice cracking halfway through the word.
“I've been trying to find Lee Seolhwa for you,” Kim Dokja looked away, avoiding Yoo Joonghyuk's gaze as his hands dropped.
“Why?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, confused.
Kim Dokja turned his gaze back towards Yoo Joonghyuk, tears glimmering in his eyes. “Because you love her, of course. She'll always be the one you chase, not me.”
Yoo Joonghyuk reached out of the tub, grabbing one of Kim Dokja's hands and pulling it towards him. “Dokja-hyung, have I ever told you how much of a fool you are?”
Wrapping his hand around Kim Dokja's palm, Yoo Joonghyuk brought Kim Dokja's hand to his face, pressing light kisses onto his knuckles.
Kim Dokja let out a wet sob, tears falling freely. “Don’t—I, why, don't play with me!” he finally sniffled out, crying as Yoo Joonghyuk continued to mouth at his fingers. “I'm not the person you love so why—”
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk said sharply, pausing from his idle ministrations. “I do not love Lee Seolhwa.”
“What? But I—”
“Do you want me to tell you a story, Dokja-hyung?” Yoo Joonghyuk whispered, breath ghosting over Kim Dokja's knuckles. “You're a reader, after all.”
Kim Dokja shivered, then shallowly nodded his head.
“I guess, based on what you said, that you know about the scenarios.” Yoo Joonghyuk cocked his head, and Kim Dokja nodded again. “I've lived thousands of lives. I don't even remember the number of times I've regressed.”
“1,863 times,” Kim Dokja mumbled.
“1,863 times,” Yoo Joonghyuk conceded with a small smile.
Dokja-hyung is so pretty when he's being a nerd.
“Every one of those 1,863 regressions I woke up in the same subway cabin, you know.”
“3707,” muttered Kim Dokja.
“Yes, 3707.” Yoo Joonghyuk huffed with a laugh. “You just know everything, don't you?”
“Yeah,” Kim Dokja said quietly.
“Know it all,” Yoo Joonghyuk teased jokingly before he continued, “But this time, I didn't wake up back in the subway cabin. I was in some unfamiliar bed, in a room I didn't recognize, in an apartment I didn't know. I thought I had run out of regressions and ended up in hell.”
“M’sorry,” hiccuped Kim Dokja, another tear rolling down his face. “I didn't—”
“But then you walked in, and I thought hell might not be too bad if I got to stay by this beautiful demon.” Yoo Joonghyuk pressed another kiss onto Kim Dokja's knuckles, smiling up at him.
Kim Dokja gurgled, bottom lip quivering.
“And then, before I knew it, all I wanted to do was stay.” Yoo Joonghyuk said softly, rotating Kim Dokja's hand, pressing kisses into his palm. “I want to stay with you, forever.”
Kim Dokja opened his mouth, but Yoo Joonghyuk pressed a finger to it, shushing him. “Maybe when I die here, I'll regress again. I don't know.”
Kim Dokja sniffled, “But—you c–can’t, you're not even supposed to be here—”
“Yet here I am,” Yoo Joonghyuk interrupted, pulling Kim Dokja closer. “Here I am, so pathetically in love with you.” With that, he pulled Kim Dokja the final distance, pressing a light kiss on his lips. “I love you, Kim Dokja. So let go of what you know and love me back.”
“Fuck,” sobbed Kim Dokja, tears streaming freely down his face. “I love you, Yoo Joonghyuk. I love you so much I don’t even know how to tell you.”
“I love you too, Dokja-hyung. I—”
“Yoo Joonghyuk, you sunfish bastard,” Kim Dokja cut in, sniffling and wailing. “Why is the man I’ve been in love with for half my life confessing to me in a bathtub?”
“I—”
“You didn’t even get me flowers,” moped Kim Dokja, somehow looking like a kicked puppy, yet still sniveling and crying.
“D–do you want flowers?” asked Yoo Joonghyuk, thoroughly perplexed.
“Maybe later,” Kim Dokja said, sighing. He reached out to cup Yoo Joonghyuk's face again, bringing him closer and kissing him softly.
Fireworks went off in Yoo Joonghyuk's head, and his heart skipped a beat. He leaned into the kiss, tilting his head and letting out a quiet sound of joy.
Kim Dokja broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together as he breathed heavily. His tears had stopped, Yoo Joonghyuk noticed, but his face was still shiny and red.
He's so fucking beautiful, Yoo Joonghyuk thought, heart pounding wildly. I love him so much.
“Marry me, Dokja-hyung,” he blurted out, tilting his chin to steal another kiss from Kim Dokja. "Dokja-hyung, marry me, please, I love you,” Yoo Joonghyuk begged, taking one, two, three more kisses from Kim Dokja.
“Ok,” Kim Dokja whispered, smiling. “I'll marry you, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
Yoo Joonghyuk hummed, leaning in to kiss KIm Dokja again.
They stayed like this for a long time, kissing softly, even as the bathwater grew cold around Yoo Joonghyuk. It was only when Kim Dokja's phone alarm rang that they broke apart, collectively glancing down at the phone.
“Shit, I forgot about Yoosungie.” Kim Dokja exclaimed, grabbing his phone off of the floor and turning the alarm off.
Kim Dokja stood up, gesturing for Yoo Joonghyuk to take his hand. He pulled Yoo Joonghyuk out of the bathtub, draping a towel across his shoulders and ushering him to the pile of clothes he'd laid out earlier.
“I'll be right back,” said Kim Dokja, before scurrying out of the bathroom towards their bedroom.
Yoo Joonghyuk slowly dried himself off, putting on the clothes Kim Dokja had laid out, then sat on the toilet lid as he waited for Kim Dokja to return.
A few loud noises later, and Kim Dokja padded back into the bathroom, a hair dryer in hand. He motioned with it, and Yoo Joonghyuk nodded.
Plugging in the hair dryer and stepping closer so that their knees were brushing, Kim Dokja turned it on and began to blow out Yoo Joonghyuk's hair, fingers tangling their way through his locks.
“Your hair is so soft,” Kim Dokja commented idly, focused on his task.
“Mm,” responded Yoo Joonghyuk, content and drowsy under Kim Dokja's ministrations.
Eventually Kim Dokja turned the hair dryer off, placing it on the counter of the sink. He held out his hand for Yoo Joonghyuk, pulling him up and entwining their fingers together.
Kim Dokja led Yoo Joonghyuk out of the bathroom to the door, only removing his hand to give Yoo Joonghyuk his coat and put his shoes on.
“Let's go pick up our daughter, okay?” Kim Dokja asked, smiling as his eyes crinkled.
Yoo Joonghyuk smiled back, grin stretching his face. I would live another 1,863 lives to be with him forever, he thought.
“Yeah,” he replied, leaning down for one last kiss.