Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kim Dokja bolts upright with a gasp that shakes the rickety hospital bed he’s on, his mind already racing. He has to get back to Yoo Joonghyuk, and fast - Kim Dokja himself had barely survived being outside the reach of the scenarios due to the Fourth Wall, but Yoo Joonghyuk -!

“Calm down, you fool.”

Kim Dokja whips his head to the side. There, sitting with his arms crossed in a chair beside Kim Dokja’s hospital bed, is Yoo Joonghyuk. The doll Uriel had been using for a symbolic body is nowhere in sight, but Yoo Joonghyuk himself looks fine; there aren’t even any visible injuries. His scent - ginger and a cup of warm tea, more comforting an alpha scent than a bastard like Yoo Joonghyuk deserves - doesn’t have any indications of pain or volatility in it, either.

Kim Dokja sags in relief. “You made it out,” he says, nearly light headed from the emotional whiplash.

“I received some help from a constellation,” Yoo Joonghyuk says dismissively. His eyes, making a slow assessment of Kim Dokja’s body and current condition, linger on the bandages around where Kim Dokja had stabbed himself with a scalpel to put himself close enough to death that he’d be able to use his skill.

A bit wary of the intensity of that gaze, Kim Dokja tugs the thin sheet of the hospital bed up to cover his chest. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes flick up to meet Kim Dokja’s, though he hardly looks regretful for having been caught staring.

“Help? From your sponsor?”

“That guy hasn’t ever helped me,” Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs. Kim Dokja nods; he’d figured as much.

“From who, then? What did you have to do in exchange?”

“Nothing,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, clearly trying to dismiss the topic. “I’ll disappear for a few minutes each day until we’re done with the Demon King Realm. More importantly -”

“What do you mean, disappear? How is that not important? Yoo Joonghyuk -”

“- Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk says, his lips pulling back just enough to show off his canines. “Don’t dodge.”

Kim Dokja tenses, but is too slow to actually dodge; between one blink and the next, Kim Dokja is gasping for air and clutching at the newly forming bruise on his stomach after Yoo Joonghyuk had gutpunched him.

“Bastard,” Kim Dokja hisses, “I’m a patient, you know! If I’d tried to move out of the way and you ended up hitting my wound -”

“I told you not to dodge,” Yoo Joonghyuk says simply. “Complain any more and I’ll change my mind about being so generous.”

Kim Dokja looks up at him in silent disbelief. Yoo Joonghyuk… has always been quick to vent his frustration like this, actually, but what the hell did Kim Dokja do to warrant it this time? This guy is the sort who almost never bothers to hide his emotions from his scent, so if he was really angry, Kim Dokja would have known from just one sniff. Instead, Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent is…

Kim Dokja’s brow furrows, and he looks Yoo Joonghyuk up and down a bit more skeptically.

“Did something good happen?” he asks. Yoo Joonghyuk raises his fist again threateningly.

“If you think anything about this is ‘good,’ I’ll really hit you again,” he warns.

“I’ll pass,” Kim Dokja says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Rather than another hit, I’d accept an apology for the first one.”

“I’ll pass,” Yoo Joonghyuk says in clear mockery of Kim Dokja’s own words.

“An explanation, then,” Kim Dokja says, his smile stretched tight. “Yoo Joonghyuk, you surely couldn’t have come all this way just to hit me, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk crosses his arms, watching Kim Dokja with the expression of a grumpy cat deciding whether to keep up his act of indifference or not. Kim Dokja smiles silently back, his eyes curved and waiting.

After the silence has stretched long enough that Kim Dokja isn’t sure Yoo Joonghyuk will ever respond, he scoffs. “You’re really going to pretend not to know?”

“Well, I can start taking guesses,” Kim Dokja says, “but I’m sure you won’t like them.”

“Guess, then,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, uncrossing his arms and leaning in closer until he’s looming over Kim Dokja in his rickety hospital bed.

Kim Dokja edges backwards warily, tugging the thin sheet closer to himself in a weak defense. “Didn’t I just say you wouldn’t like my guesses? Are you trying to come up with an excuse to hit me again after all?”

“If you don’t want to get hit, don’t say anything foolish,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. His scent flares for a moment, a quick rise and fall of irritation before it settles back into the ambiguous, almost-pleased thing it’s been since Kim Dokja had first woken up. “I want to hear you say it yourself.”

…Since when did Yoo Joonghyuk become so comfortable with the idea that Kim Dokja would know his plans?

Truthfully, Kim Dokja did have some idea of why Yoo Joonghyuk would show up. Despite their push and pull dynamic until now, Yoo Joonghyuk has called him a companion at least once - and this early in his regression turns, Yoo Joonghyuk won’t turn his back on his companions, even if he is a little bit of a bitch to them. More importantly, Kim Dokja had practically handed Yoo Joonghyuk a ticket into the Demon King Selection’s Giant Story by playing as the revolutionary in his name. Even if Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t like him much, he’d likely have come just for that, companions or not.

Kim Dokja’s stomach still aches with the force of Yoo Joonghyuk’s punch, though, so he isn’t feeling especially like giving a real answer here when he can think of a false one that would rile Yoo Joonghyuk up instead.

“Well, I’m the only guy you know who has access to the dokkaebi shop, aren’t I?” Kim Dokja says, grinning slyly. “If you couldn’t find someone to give you the exact personal scenario you wanted, you’d need me to purchase travel to First Murim, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk goes still, and Kim Dokja feels a rare thrill of satisfaction. If he actually tried to hit Yoo Joonghyuk back, that bastard would surely dodge, but Kim Dokja can at least get his revenge like this.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says dangerously, his scent taking on a bitter edge, “You’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

“Am I? Wouldn’t you want the Black Heavenly Demon Sword?” Kim Dokja asks innocently.

Even he isn’t the sort of idiot that would slap a bear across its face; he’ll mention First Murim, but he won’t directly bring up Yoo Joonghyuk’s teacher.

…Well, not now at least, when it’s just part of his teasing. He’ll need to come back to this when he starts looking for allies for the Demon King Selection.

“You think I’d come all this way for a new sword?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, his eyes narrowed. “Kim Dokja, take this seriously.”

“I am,” Kim Dokja says. “Perhaps you’re -”

[Lie Detection Lvl 11 has been used!]

[Statement has been confirmed as ‘false!’]

…Kim Dokja’s eye twitches. This guy’s trust issues are really inconvenient.

“One more chance, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk warns.

“If you don’t want to hear me say the wrong thing, then just tell me yourself,” Kim Dokja tsks.

“I came here,” Yoo Joonghyuk says lowly, “because you’re a fool.”

“Is that all it takes?”

Yoo Joonghyuk rises from his chair to loom closer, one hand reaching out to press into the bed by Kim Dokja’s side to support his weight. Kim Dokja instinctively tries to lean backwards to escape, but there isn’t much room, and he finds himself stuck close enough that Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent is heady and thick in the back of his throat. It makes Kim Dokja feel like he’s sitting in a well-loved kitchen, the smell of ginger and spiced tea and a fire keeping everything warm suddenly so overwhelming that Kim Dokja can’t even smell the sharp antiseptic of the hospital room.

It’s a very, very dangerously comforting feeling when Yoo Joonghyuk is looming so close to him.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk calls, as if his name alone could be made into a threat. “That was the worst confession I’ve received in my life.”

Kim Dokja blinks.

The worst… what?

“What?” he says aloud. “The worst… Yoo Joonghyuk, I didn’t have many ways of contacting you, you know. Using your name here was all I had to let you know I was here and participating in the Demon King Selection -”

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk seethes, leaning in ever closer. “You want to avoid talking about your Fate that badly?”

Kim Dokja falters, whatever witty quip he’d been preparing dying instantly.

[Incarnation Kim Dokja will be killed by the person he loves most] had been his Fate. Now Yoo Joonghyuk has shown up, and has hit him and scolded him and leaned in close, and…

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja says firmly, “that wasn’t a confession.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, narrowing his eyes. “At best, it was an idiot’s attempt to dress a suicide note up as a love letter.”

Kim Dokja frowns. He feels a bit wronged; it wasn’t like he was planning on really dying there. Still, there’s a more important distinction to make clear first.

“Yoo Joonghyuk, the interpretation of that Fate wasn’t how you might think,” Kim Dokja insists. “Rather than a ‘person,’ the thing I love most is just the stories that we’ve been creating together.”

Finally, Yoo Joonghyuk leans back. Kim Dokja doesn’t get the chance to feel relief; even as Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression remains threatening, his scent curls with a distinctly pleased note around them both.

“The stories we’ve been creating together, is it,” he says. Then, he tilts his head upwards just a bit, as if smugly victorious.

[Story ‘Life and Death Companions’ is squirming about!]

“This one?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, and Kim Dokja falls silent in near disbelief.

How the hell is he supposed to explain when Yoo Joonghyuk puts it like that? In the first place, trying to convince Yoo Joonghyuk when he’s already made up his mind about something is a fool’s errand - Kim Dokja should have given up the second Yoo Joonghyuk got up into his face.

Yoo Joonghyuk huffs, standing up and entirely removing his weight from Kim Dokja’s hospital bed. He looks distinctly unimpressed.

Then, as Kim Dokja watches him with wide, disbelieving eyes, Yoo Joonghyuk pulls back one sleeve of his coat and brusquely begins removing the dark fabric wrap he keeps over the scent gland on his wrist.

“Wait - Yoo Joonghyuk, I’m not sure - what are you doing?”

“Do you enjoy pretending to be stupid when you don’t want to acknowledge what’s in front of you?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks sharply. “Or did you sleep through middle school biology?”

“Haha,” Kim Dokja says without even the smallest amount of real mirth. “You got me, I napped through every relevant class, so -”

The fabric that Yoo Joonghyuk had been unwrapping falls away, and Kim Dokja’s words get lodged in his throat. He snaps his mouth shut quickly; getting caught drooling would be the only thing worse than getting caught stumbling over his words at the mere sight of a scent gland like some sort of teenager.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk calls. Kim Dokja’s eyes snap up to meet his from where he’d been staring at Yoo Joonghyuk’s uncovered wrist. “One more chance.”

“I thought I already used up my ‘one more chance,’” Kim Dokja says weakly. “Aren’t you feeling a bit too generous today?”

Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t rise to take the bait. Instead, he silently extends his arm out, offering his wrist to Kim Dokja. Not everyone keeps their scent glands as carefully covered as Yoo Joonghyuk does, but for those that do, this kind of action is heavy with meaning: it couldn’t have been a more clear offer of an imprint if it had come with a neon sign and flashing lights.

[Exclusive skill ‘Fourth Wall’ has offset some of your shock!]

Offset the rest of it too, why don’t you, Kim Dokja thinks, nearly dizzy. I can’t…

[Id i ot.] The Fourth Wall says. [I  won ‘t  hel p  you  w ith  so met hing  thi s  stup id.]

Damn it, this unreliable skill…!

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja says, his voice carefully even. “Do you think I’m an omega?”

“Do you think I’m scent blind?” Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs in return.

“Just to be clear, I’m not a beta either.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s lip curls up slightly in irritation. “If you don’t like being mistaken as one, stop keeping your scent so tightly controlled.”

Kim Dokja instantly regrets trying to clarify this. Even when it’s delivered in such a condescending way, having confirmation that Yoo Joonghyuk recognizes him as an alpha - and that he’s even paid some amount of attention to Kim Dokja’s scent and how he manages it - makes Kim Dokja feel a bit weak.

He forcefully sets aside the thought.

“You don’t even like how I manage my scent, but you’re offering something as serious as an imprint? Yoo Joonghyuk, have you been listening too closely to Uriel’s indirect messages?”

“If you know it’s serious, then stop joking around and accept it,” Yoo Joonghyuk snaps. “Kim Dokja, I won’t offer this easily in the future.”

Damn it. Yoo Joonghyuk isn’t responding to any of his teasing the way he usually does; he really wants Kim Dokja to take the offer to imprint seriously. But this kind of thing…

Imprinting isn’t irreversible, but it isn’t the sort of thing that can be offered casually. Ordinarily, it’s something that’s only done after careful consideration between an established romantic couple, and even then, it’s uncommon in pairs that aren’t the standard alpha-and-omega matchup. Even an imprint between a couple that includes a beta is considered rare.

Between a pair like them - two alphas that hardly ever see eye to eye on anything outside of the very basics of survival - it’s unthinkable.

After all, an intentional imprint is practically a promise to eventually bond. It even comes with some of the side effects of one, if a bit more muted than if things were made permanent with a bond itself. Becoming somewhat numb to the scents of everyone except the imprinted match, hyper awareness of the other person, a vague sense of their general wellbeing…

…Kim Dokja narrows his eyes.

“Hey,” he says, “do you think an imprint is a convenient way to put a tracker on me?”

“Tsk,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, turning his face away.

Kim Dokja, suddenly feeling an itch that can only be scratched by whacking this guy upside the head, smiles thinly.

“What was that about this being serious? Come closer, I’ll teach you a quick lesson about joking about things like this.”

“I don’t want to hear someone like you try to give that kind of lesson,” Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs. His arm, still outstretched to show off his unguarded scent gland, wavers slightly in the air between them. “Kim Dokja, either shut up or accept the imprint.”

“Are you still going to insist on that after I caught you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent spikes with irritation again. “Caught me? If all I wanted was to keep an eye on you, Kim Dokja, I wouldn’t offer something like this.”

Kim Dokja eyes him dubiously. It’s true that Yoo Joonghyuk has never been a frivolous sort of guy when it comes to issues related to his secondary gender. In all of his regressions in TWSA, he only imprinted and eventually bonded twice. Each time, it had been a decision that weighed heavily on him. What if the feelings of the imprint ended up being a distraction in combat, or what if being numbed to others’ scents made it more difficult to acquire information on enemies?

Just what sort of importance has Yoo Joonghyuk placed on Kim Dokja for him to decide that it’s worth it now, with him?

“It isn’t a good idea,” Kim Dokja says at last. “If you want to keep me around, why don’t you try being a little nicer to me first?”

“Nicer?” Yoo Joonghyuk repeats, his expression making it perfectly clear that he’s been about as ‘nice’ as Kim Dokja can expect from him.

Kim Dokja pushes his luck anyway, slipping into a sly smile he knows pisses the other alpha off.

“Wine and dine me a bit before you go propositioning me like this. It’s common courtesy, you know.”

Yoo Joonghyuk seems to consider this for a single, judgemental second before he scoffs. “You’d run off before letting someone court you.”

“So your solution is to skip the courtship entirely? Not very gentlemanly of you, Joonghyuk-ah.” Kim Dokja glances down at Biyoo, sleeping soundly on the blankets at his side, and grins. “And anyway, I’m not one to run away from a good thing. So long as the channel’s up, a date sounds pretty profitable.”

Yoo Joonghyuk rears back, finally dropping his hand back to his side from where it had been extended to Kim Dokja this whole time. His scent turns strongly bitter, like all the warm ginger in it has been burnt to a crisp.

“You’re still not taking this seriously,” he hisses.

Kim Dokja smiles pleasantly up at him. He may not be as pissed off as Yoo Joonghyuk is, but he isn’t happy about this either.

“Between the two of us, just who isn’t taking the idea of an imprint seriously enough?”

“You think I’m joking?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks dangerously.

It would be much, much easier if Yoo Joonghyuk was joking, but Kim Dokja already knows he’s not.

“I think I hit you too hard on the head in the tenth scenario,” Kim Dokja says instead.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression grows even darker. Something like a flicker of understanding passes over his face in the next moment, seeming to have realized something.

“Kim Dokja,” he says slowly, “why did you demand a courtship?”

Kim Dokja blinks, taken aback. “I didn’t demand - “

“Kim Dokja.”

“Have you really gone crazy? I was just playing along. Didn’t your sister ever make you read any romance books?”

“Books,” Yoo Joonghyuk seethes. “Back then, you called your life a ‘story’ too.”

Kim Dokja falls silent, watching Yoo Joonghyuk warily.

“You asked me if it was a good story,” Yoo Joonghyuk insists, “while you were dying. In my arms.”

Kim Dokja winces. “Saying it like that is a bit…”

“You don’t take anything that matters seriously,” Yoo Joonghyuk accuses. His scent, thick and heavy in the air between them, is so sharply bitter that it nearly burns to breathe.

“I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t take things seriously,” Kim Dokja says, feeling a bit defensive. “You think anyone not taking things seriously could keep up with you for this long?”

“You haven’t kept up with me at all,” Yoo Joonghyuk sneers.

“Is that what you call the performance of someone who’s managed to beat you up a couple times until now?”

“You couldn’t beat me now,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, his teeth flashing as he snaps at Kim Dokja. “Kicked out of the Scenarios, barely surviving, your Stories repaired so shoddily you’re stuck in a hospital bed even now - you call this keeping up with me?”

“Just how long ago was it that I saved you from Asmodeous?”

“A week,” Yoo Joonghyuk snarls. “You’ve been unconscious for that long.”

Kim Dokja absently reaches up and rubs at his head as if warding away a headache. The length of time was longer than he expected.

Yoo Joonghyuk, watching him, seems to feel some amount of satisfaction at Kim Dokja’s dismay. The intensity of his expression doesn’t wane, but his body language relaxes somewhat, easing back on the alpha posturing.

“Accept the damn imprint,” Yoo Joonghyuk demands, “and come back to Earth with me.”

Kim Dokja sighs, dropping his hand from his head.

“You know I can’t go back yet,” he says. “In the first place, didn’t you come here because you knew there was a chance to get a Giant Story? You know it’s too good of an opportunity.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw clenches. “And the imprint?”

Kim Dokja looks up at Yoo Joonghyuk with furrowed brows.

“Are you still asking?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands curl into fists at his sides. The sleeve of one arm is still rucked up to expose his bare wrist, and Kim Dokja finds his gaze dropping down to it without his own say-so.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says through gritted teeth, “I really won’t offer like this again.”

I sure hope not, Kim Dokja thinks. Outwardly, he plasters on an unreadable smile.

“Don’t worry,” Kim Dokja says placidly, “you won’t have to. If I ever get issued another Fate, I’ll make sure to clarify the platonic nature of it ahead of time.”

“You -” Yoo Joonghyuk struggles to find the right words in his own anger, his expression twisting. Eventually, he roughly tugs down his sleeve to cover his wrist once more, the fabric wrapping he’d removed earlier remaining clenched tight in his hand. “You’re a fool.”

“Don’t take the rejection too harshly, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja says with deliberate lightness, as if his gut hasn’t been churning this whole damn conversation. “If it bothers you that much, you could always try your luck at one-sidedly imprinting on me.”

“Do you think I’m that pathetic?” Yoo Joonghyuk snaps.

Obviously not. Kim Dokja wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise; he was banking on the idea pissing Yoo Joonghyuk off to the point of finally dropping the topic, since an outright rejection hadn’t done the trick.

Imprints don’t have to be mutual, after all - not like a permanent bond. It’s just that prideful bastards like Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t ever one-sidedly chase after someone in such a persistent way.

“Why not?” Kim Dokja says, acting purposefully naive. “Isn’t a one-sided imprint what you want anyway? That way, you’d get to keep an eye on me without me being able to feel your own condition in exchange. Doesn’t that fit your moody, lone wolf lifestyle quite a bit?”

“That isn’t what -” Yoo Joonghyuk’s teeth click together as he comes to a sudden stop, as if realizing that he’s been baited into a particular response.

Kim Dokja raises one eyebrow wordlessly. Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw clenches and unclenches as he seems to consider what to say.

“...You really don’t take a single thing seriously,” he says in the end.

He looks and sounds just as angry as he’d been before, but the burning intensity in his eyes is gone, like a spark that’s finally snuffed out. Kim Dokja, having watched and waited for this, quietly sighs in relief.

“With that settled,” he says, “we should prepare for -”

“Do it yourself,” Yoo Joonghyuk cuts in.

“Hey, did you come here for the Demon King Selection or not? We -”

Yoo Joonghyuk ignores him. Without another word, he turns on his heel to leave.

The tension that had finally left Kim Dokja a moment ago comes back in an instant. He nearly reaches out uselessly, as if to catch Yoo Joonghyuk and stop him from leaving, despite him already being halfway across the room.

He’d wanted Yoo Joonghyuk to give up on this imprinting thing, not leave altogether.

“Yoo Joonghyuk -”

“Stay there,” Yoo Joonghyuk warns, barely glancing over his shoulder at him.

“Do you think you hit me hard enough when I woke up that I can’t stand now?” Kim Dokja asks, frustrated. He’d meant to piss Yoo Joonghyuk off, but not to this extent.

He still has so much he wants to hear from Yoo Joonghyuk - even if it’s something small, if he knows how their companions are doing, Kim Dokja wants to know it too. Not only that, but Kim Dokja had been serious when he’d said that they should be preparing for the Demon King Selection. At the very least, he needs to start what will likely be a tedious process of convincing Yoo Joonghyuk to go to First Murim.

“Hey, seriously -!”

Yoo Joonghyuk pauses at the doorway, turning his head just enough to glare back at Kim Dokja. Kim Dokja, not having expected Yoo Joonghyuk to really pause when he called for him, falters.

What the hell is he supposed to say? Even if it’s to convince Yoo Joonghyuk to stick around a bit longer, Kim Dokja isn’t going to apologize for turning down something as unreasonable as a mutual imprint between them.

Yoo Joonghyuk, clearly seeing Kim Dokja’s sudden uncertainty on his face, scoffs.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says, sounding as if the promise had been wrenched out of him through gritted teeth. “Just - stay there.”

He’s gone in the next moment, with Kim Dokja staring dumbly at the spot he’d been in a moment prior. If Yoo Joonghyuk is going to come back in a bit anyway, why storm off in such a dramatic way to begin with…?

Kim Dokja sags back into the hospital bed and brings a hand up to cover his eyes, exhausted. He should follow after Yoo Joonghyuk despite the other man’s warnings, or take the chance to snoop around a bit on his own to get a handle on what’s changed in the last week. He should, and he will in just a moment, but -

Damnit, Kim Dokja really is an alpha, no matter how well he usually keeps his scent and instincts locked down. Even he needs a moment to compose himself after all of - whatever that was. Horrifyingly, the sight of Yoo Joonghyuk's bare wrist has been all but burned into his mind now.

He isn’t even sure what he’s most irritated by: the fact that Yoo Joonghyuk clearly thought he was that easy, or the fact that Yoo Joonghyuk would treat the idea of imprinting with him so lightly to begin with.

Just then, the space beside Kim Dokja’s heart flips for a moment, tearing him out of his thoughts. He tenses up, waiting for the feeling to suddenly get more intense and indicate that he should get up off his ass and go fix whatever went wrong, but… nothing happens. The feeling doesn’t even continue past that brief moment.

A flash of realization passes over him.

“Asshole,” Kim Dokja mutters. Yoo Joonghyuk could have at least explained that his penalty - the ‘disappearance’ he has to suffer in exchange for having received a constellation’s help - was approaching. If Kim Dokja couldn’t feel it like this, he really would have thought that Yoo Joonghyuk had stormed off just to cool his head over the rejection or something.

Still, the fact that he can feel it is reassuring. Kim Dokja can only sense it vaguely, but even that much is enough for him to get somewhat of an idea. It feels more like Yoo Joonghyuk has taken a step to the left rather than actually vanishing entirely like he’d said he would, so maybe it’s some sort of transformation penalty…?

Kim Dokja drops his hand from his face to stare numbly up at the ceiling, sighing tiredly.

Just minutes ago, he’d all but mocked Yoo Joonghyuk with the possibility of a one-sided imprint, knowing with the confidence of a loyal reader that Yoo Joonghyuk found one-sided imprints to be nothing short of pathetic. ‘You’d get to keep an eye on me without me being able to feel your condition in exchange,’ he’d said.

Now, Kim Dokja’s feeling out what sort of penalty Yoo Joonghyuk might actually be suffering, and he’s doing it in that very same pathetic way. He’s going to have to be careful not to reveal he knows too much about whatever Yoo Joonghyuk is getting up to from now on.

After all, Kim Dokja had one-sidedly imprinted on Yoo Joonghyuk a long, long time ago.

---

Kim Dokja does, of course, eventually convince Yoo Joonghyuk to go with him to First Murim, and then convinces him to show them the way to the Breaking the Sky School, and then convinces him to fight on their behalf, and then to face his previous teacher head on, and then…

Well, if Yoo Joonghyuk had really been against any of it, Kim Dokja wouldn’t have been able to convince him to even listen to his arguments in the first place, so it’s fine. Yoo Joonghyuk going along with something is more or less the same as a tacit approval from him.

…Not that Yoo Joonghyuk’s attitude has been very good about it, though.

Kim Dokja sighs, watching Yoo Joonghyuk train some distance away from where he’s lounging beneath a tree. Yoo Joonghyuk’s form, power, and agility are all as impressive as ever, but his expression doesn’t fit the tranquil martial arts training montage vibe. Ever since Kim Dokja had wandered out into this courtyard to spectate, Yoo Joonghyuk’s been going through his forms looking as if he’s trying to hold a live wasp in his mouth.

It’s an expression that Kim Dokja has had to get used to these past few days. Ever since the nonsense about imprinting, Yoo Joonghyuk has been especially irritable.

Kim Dokja had done his best to ignore it until now, but this much is just about his limit. Yoo Joonghyuk isn’t the type of guy to hide his bad mood, and the constant posturing and bitter scent from him would be enough for even a beta to start feeling uneasy. At this point, Kim Dokja is beginning to feel exhausted from the mental effort of trying to keep his own instincts from ruffling in response to Yoo Joonghyuk.

It wouldn’t be as bad if Kim Dokja wasn’t one-sidedly imprinted on Yoo Joonghyuk. If he wasn’t so sensitive to Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent, or if he didn’t feel such a strong instinctual itch to fix things so that Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t be so displeased, then Kim Dokja could just keep his distance and wait for Yoo Joonghyuk to work through this on his own.

Instead, Kim Dokja is stuck loitering around the Breaking the Sky School, feeling uneasy every time he thinks of leaving Yoo Joonghyuk to his own devices.

Damn. It was really a mistake to imprint on Yoo Joonghyuk way back then. He should break the imprint, especially if it’s going to continue to be this distracting in the future. It’s dangerous to have to fight his instincts in the middle of the Scenarios, and it isn’t like he wants the imprint to ever be reciprocated, so there’s no point in keeping it anyway. It won’t turn into a permanent bond. He should just break it now and get it over with.

…He really, really should.

Kim Dokja tips his head back to stare at the tree branches above him. They sway slightly in the light breeze, and the dappled light streaming through them shifts with the movement. If it weren’t for Yoo Joonghyuk stinking up the courtyard with his irritation, it would really feel like a peaceful moment.

Across the courtyard, Yoo Joonghyuk finishes up his training set. He moves into his cooldown routine, and then into a slow set of stretches, and then -

Yoo Joonghyuk’s wooden training sword is suddenly embedded in the tree trunk directly above Kim Dokja’s head.

“Wha - Yoo Joonghyuk!” Kim Dokja cries, pressing himself down into the ground and staring up at the wooden training sword in shock. Just how hard did that asshole have to throw a blunt practice sword for it to get stuck in a tree? “What was that for?!”

Yoo Joonghyuk, stalking over to loom over Kim Dokja, scowls at him. “You were in the training yard. I thought you might want training.”

“Oh, is that all?” Kim Dokja asks sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to promote this method of instantly raising someone’s heart rate to the Star Stream. Very effective.”

Yoo Joonghyuk tsks, and he reaches out to yank the practice sword out from the tree before tossing it carelessly back in the direction of where he’d been training. Kim Dokja, still pressed down to the ground in a mockery of the way he’d been lounging about peacefully before, cranes his neck to watch it.

At least Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t throw it with enough force to get it embedded into something else, this time.

“What do you want?” Yoo Joonghyuk demands.

Kim Dokja looks back up at him warily for a moment, then shuts his eyes stubbornly.

“I’m resting,” he says in his best impression of someone sleeping peacefully.

“You think anyone’s believing that?”

“What else would I be doing?” Kim Dokja asks, slitting one eye open to peer up at Yoo Joonghyuk. “I’m still technically prescribed to bedrest for another week, you know.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looks Kim Dokja up and down assessingly before making his own conclusion.

“You’re fine,” he says. “What do you want?”

“Yoo Joonghyuk, if you’re always this stubborn, you’ll miss out on a lot of opportunities in life.”

“If you didn’t want something,” Yoo Joonghyuk grits out, “you’d be hidden away in the dormitory, not rolling around in front of me.”

“What an unflattering way to describe the resting technique of a patient,” Kim Dokja mutters, finally giving up on the act and pushing himself up with one hand to sit up.

Yoo Joonghyuk is really too observant. Kim Dokja hadn’t quite managed to work up the nerve to actually confront him yet; he’d been too busy wallowing in his own stupidity for having formed the one-sided imprint that’s currently making his life so difficult in the first place.

They’re already talking now, though, so Kim Dokja may as well get a move on.

“I have to decide what to do about the Gourmet Association banquet soon,” he says.

“Is that it?”

“Were you hoping for more?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw clenches. “What is there to decide about it? Are you afraid?”

“No,” Kim Dokja says simply, staring placidly up at Yoo Joonghyuk. He’s in loose training clothes, and his top robe hangs open to combat the heat. It’s so unlike Yoo Joonghyuk’s usual appearance that it still feels novel even after a couple days of seeing it.

It’s also, Kim Dokja thinks absently, a very good view.

“It’s only that the timing of it isn’t ideal,” Kim Dokja says at last, referring to the way that the Gourmet Association’s banquet will happen the same day as the competition here on First Murim.

“You think you could win a martial arts competition?” Yoo Joongyuk snorts. “We don’t need you here.”

“Hey, what’s with that attitude? I could hold my own if it came to it.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looks down at him dubiously.

“More importantly,” Kim Dokja says, clearing his throat, “if something goes wrong -”

“If something goes wrong, it still won’t be as bad as not having any allies for the Demon King Selection.”

Kim Dokja hesitates. That’s true, but…

Damn it, it’s all the fault of this foolish one-sided imprint. If Kim Dokja feels uneasy leaving Yoo Joonghyuk just to go into town, how much worse will it be going to the Gourmet Association’s banquet? Trying to navigate an introduction with those sorts of constellations while his instincts are so ruffled would be a nightmare, and the Fourth Wall is unreliable when it comes to blocking out issues related to gender dynamics and instincts.

If Yoo Joonghyuk continues to be this upset with Kim Dokja until it’s time for him to leave, Kim Dokja will really regret it later.

“Then, maybe I can at least do this…?” Kim Dokja nudges at Biyoo where she’s dozing on the grass by his side, pulling up the channel interface.

[Constellation ‘Demon King of Salvation’ has sponsored 100 coins to Incarnation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’]

Yoo Joonghyuk’s wasp-in-mouth expression comes back instantly.

“I don’t need coins from someone stingy like you,” he snaps, his scent flaring and shoulders pulling back.

Kim Dokja raises his hands in easy submission. He’s seen more of Yoo Joonghyuk’s alpha posturing in the last handful of days than he’d seen over the several months before that.

“Fine, fine,” Kim Dokja says. “The Supreme King doesn’t need any help from a lowly constellation like me, I see.”

Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs, but after a moment his body language eases, and he drops down to sit next to Kim Dokja. Biyoo, now awake but still sleepy, rolls in a bumbling path to bump into Yoo Joonghyuk’s leg.

“You shouldn’t wake her up for stupid things like that,” Yoo Joonghyuk scolds, but his scent turns noticeably more gentle as he reaches out to gently nudge her upright. “Once the Demon King Selection gets closer, she won’t have the chance to rest.”

Kim Dokja watches the interaction with a warm sense of amusement. How is Yoo Joonghyuk so good with pups ordinarily, but still ends up with troublemakers like Lee Gilyoung holding grudges against him?

“If you really didn’t like it, feel free to return the coins,” Kim Dokja says mildly.

Yoo Joonghyuk glares at him silently. Kim Dokja shrugs, having expected a response like that.

“Just focus on your own situation,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, shifting to sit more comfortably on the ground. “Go and come back, Kim Dokja. I’ll win the Black Heavenly Demon Sword in the meantime.”

Some of the tension in Kim Dokja’s shoulders eases. He’ll be able to leave when he has to, now. Hearing Yoo Joonghyuk’s awkward sort of reassurance is really too powerful.

Still, Kim Dokja can’t help but laugh a bit.

“What’s with this send off?” he asks, grinning slightly. “I don’t have to leave for a couple more days, you know. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Tsk,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, turning his face away to stare out over the courtyard. “I figured you wouldn’t come find me until the last moment.”

“Problems are best solved sooner rather than later,” Kim Dokja says vaguely, as if he hadn’t been avoiding Yoo Joonghyuk the last several days.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s nose scrunches slightly in distaste, clearly disagreeing that anything has been ‘solved,’ but Kim Dokja doesn’t take it to heart. Maybe it’s only for Biyoo’s sake, but Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent really has settled, the burnt bitterness that’s been directed at Kim Dokja all this time melting away into its usual warm ginger scent.

Kim Dokja studies the profile of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face for a moment longer before relaxing back against the tree behind him.

“How are the others doing?” he asks. “In the case of unlucky seeding, we won’t be able to count on both Breaking the Sky Master and yourself to be the finalists.”

“The girl you picked up has talent,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. “She learns quickly thanks to her skill.”

“I thought you didn’t consider things picked up with a skill as talent?” Kim Dokja asks wryly.

“Whatever your skill does is different,” Yoo Joonghyuk snorts. “You don’t actually learn anything with it.”

“The result is still the same, though?”

“If you really think that, join the next training session.”

Kim Dokja flinches away, looking at Yoo Joonghyuk warily.

“You’re back to threatening me already?” he complains.

“If you think an offer to train is a threat, you’re more hopeless than I thought.”

“I’m still a patient,” Kim Dokja insists, poking at the patchwork recovery around his Stories to prove his point. “If I get up to train only to be beaten back down by you, who knows what kind of weird Story I might get.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression turns considering in a way that, frankly, alarms Kim Dokja.

“Hey, hey - don’t imagine that!” Kim Dokja cries.

“Better to imagine than do it,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, but his expression returns to normal in the next moment. “Keep your Stories straight for now. Our nebula is too weak for any nonsense.”

Kim Dokja feels an unexpected bloom of warmth fill his chest. “Kim Dokja’s Company, you mean?” he asks, grinning at Yoo Joonghyuk.

“I’ve already said I won’t join if it’s named something foolish like that,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, but the edge to his words is missing. When Kim Dokja turns to look at him, curious, Yoo Joonghyuk is already looking back: eyes half lidded, face still slightly flushed from his training, and his head tilted as if trying to make out Kim Dokja’s scent.

“Yah,” Kim Dokja says, suddenly feeling a bit wary, “what’s with you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk blinks once, slow and almost lazy, before turning his face away. “You don’t often smell like that.”

Ah. Kim Dokja must have let his control over his scent slip. Relaxing around Yoo Jonghyuk is really dangerous.

He clears his throat, trying to redirect Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention. “How are things going with Namgung Minyoung?”

“Idiots that pretend not to know something are more foolish than the idiots that actually don’t know.”

Kim Dokja’s brow furrows. Is this guy assuming that Kim Dokja is spying on him all the time?

“I have better things to do than watch the channel all day, you know.”

Yoo Joonghyuk spares a single judgemental glance over Kim Dokja’s relaxed posture.

“That wasn’t what I was referring to anyway,” he says, after he’s finished silently judging Kim Dokja for how he spends his time.

“I really have better things to do than to pass out to use my skill,” Kim Dokja clarifies. “If I was going to spy, I would use the channel. And as I already said, I’m not doing that either.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent takes on a note of uncertainty. “You really can’t tell?”

“If you don’t want to tell me about it, you can just keep up the silent and broody act,” Kim Dokja says dryly. “No need to accuse me of being a constant spy to pretend like there’s no reason to tell me in the first place.”

Yoo Joonghyuk sits up a bit straighter, looking at Kim Dokja carefully, as if re-assessing him.

“Kim Dokja,” he says, “no one with a nose should have to ask directly.”

Kim Dokja’s smile freezes. Carefully, trying not to look as if he’s doing it, he scents the air between them.

Just under Yoo Joonghyuk’s own scent, Namgung Minyoung’s scent lingers like a small reassurance, the strong pine of it gentled into something more subtle.

An almost-parental scent mark, Kim Dokja realizes, and exactly the sort of thing that should have made a question like ‘how are things going with your teacher’ redundant.

Kim Dokja clears his throat awkwardly.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he says seriously, “this is a secret that you have to keep for the good of our nebula: actually, my nose is a bit weak.”

“A bit?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, clearly doubtful.

“Just a bit,” Kim Dokja confirms. “So for subtle things like scent marks, I can’t always tell…”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression only gets more suspicious. It must not actually be a very subtle scent mark.

“And even for strong scent marks,” Kim Dokja hurries to clarify, “if we’re currently living in a school that’s surrounded by someone’s scent, detecting that same person’s scent on someone else might be a bit muddied!”

“What kind of broken nose do you have?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks in clear disbelief. “Even a beta could tell the difference.”

“The kind that doesn’t take kindly to being made fun of,” Kim Dokja sniffs.

The kind that can hardly smell anything at all when you’re nearby, he despairs in his own mind. The effects of an imprint are really too strong; unless Kim Dokja focuses, his hyper sensitivity to Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent really does drown out most others when he’s this close to him.

What idiotic evolution is this, really? Becoming a bit numb to everyone’s scent but your imprint’s is only good in situations where everyone is throwing aggressive scents around at each other. It’s terrible in situations like this where you’re expected to be able to pick up more subtle scent cues!

“...Idiot,” Yoo Joonghyuk says at last. “Can’t you purchase some sort of remedy from the dokkaebi shop?”

“The cost of such a thing…” Kim Dokja tries to excuse vaguely.

“Idiot,” Yoo Joonghyuk says again, firmer this time.

“Right, right…”

Yoo Joonghyuk pushes himself up, knocking his shoulder roughly against Kim Dokja’s as he stands up.

“Figure out your problems on your own,” he says, starting to stalk back over to where he had tossed his training sword to. “Don’t bother me again while I’m training.”

“How is resting nearby considered bothering?” Kim Dokja asks, just to be difficult, but Yoo Joonghyuk ignores him.

…Well, it’s still better than the mood between them before.

Even as Yoo Joonghyuk resumes his training, though, his scent lingers, as strong as if he were still within arm’s reach of Kim Dokja. It isn’t just the oversensitivity Kim Dokja has to Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent as a result of his one-sided imprint on him; Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent is genuinely lingering as if he’d never left. That overly-aggressive shoulder check earlier must have been for this reason.

“That bastard,” Kim Dokja mutters, running a hand through his hair. “If he was going to scent mark me, he could have at least done it gently.”

---

If Kim Dokja had known things would turn out this way, he would have run straight to the well to scrub himself down as soon as Yoo Joonghyuk had scent marked him that first time.

Instead, he’d let himself be lulled back into a doze, his tight control of his own scent meaning that there was nothing to contest Yoo Joonghyuk’s with during that time. By the time he’d woken up and rejoined everyone for dinner, it was still clear to anyone with a nose that Yoo Joonghyuk had scent-marked him, but… well, he’d thought that the worst that would come of it would be an excessive amount of messages and coins from Uriel, or a few sly glances from Jang Hayoung.

Kim Dokja had underestimated Yoo Joonghyuk. To the sort of bastard who’d take a mile as soon as he was begrudgingly handed an inch, Kim Dokja showing his face around others while still smelling like Yoo Joonghyuk was as good as granting him permission.

From that point on, there’d hardly been a moment when Kim Dokja didn’t have Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent clinging to him.

In the mornings, Kim Dokja would wake up to find that Yoo Joonghyuk’s sleeping roll had ended up closer to Kim Dokja’s than it had been when they’d gone to bed, Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent seeping into Kim Dokja’s space. In the afternoons, Yoo Joonghyuk would take every opportunity to more directly make contact with Kim Dokja: roughly nudging him awake when he finds a good spot to doze, knocking their hands together when dishes are passed around the dinner table, and so on.

Honestly, Kim Dokja feels a bit cheated. In Yoo Joonghyuk’s last round, he was much more gentle when it came to scent marking his wife and pup; what did Kim Dokja do to deserve this kind of treatment?

In protest, he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent mark. Naturally, he also doesn’t change his method of managing his own scent. The end result…

“Ahjussi, I thought it was just because you were so injured before, but is there something actually wrong with your scent glands?”

Kim Dokja, trapped in this conversation by nature of having just grabbed a Murim Dumpling from the bag Jang Hayoung had brought back, smiles thinly.

“Nothing as wrong as bad manners,” he says pointedly. Jang Hayoung just shrugs.

Han Myungoh, having also come over for a snack, coughs delicately.

“A young omega shouldn’t talk so much about someone else’s scent,” he says, “even if it’s just a beta.”

“I’m an alpha,” Kim Dokja says dryly.

“I’m the beta,” Jang Hayoung chimes in sourly.

Han Myungoh looks between them both for a moment, then coughs again, much less delicately this time.

“Perhaps constellations simply don’t have scents,” he says. “I’m sure that Kim Dokja-ssi had a bit of a stronger scent in the past…”

In the past, Kim Dokja didn’t have the Fourth Wall to help keep his scent under such tight control, and had to make due with more mundane measures.

“Denied,” Jang Hayoung says sharply. “This ahjussi isn’t any constellation I know of.”

“Isn’t he the Demon King of -”

“Denied,” Jang Hayoung says again, ears turning a bit pink.

Kim Dokja snorts. “Didn’t you tell me in the past that you wanted to meet the Demon King of Salvation?”

“And I’m still waiting for the day,” Jang Hayoung insists. “Seriously, though, is there actually something wrong with your scent glands? Or…”

“Or what?”

Jang Hayoung hesitates, looking a bit unsure. “I thought that you were in charge, but recently, it seems like that might not be the case?”

“Isn’t that Yoo Joonghyuk fellow clearly the leader?” Han Myungoh asks, looking a bit lost.

That’s right. The end result of Kim Dokja both refusing to acknowledge Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent mark while also not releasing any of his own scent under any circumstances is this: Kim Dokja’s position as the pack lead has become a matter of great scrutiny. When Kim Dokja smells so strongly of Yoo Joonghyuk and Yoo Joonghyuk smells nothing like Kim Dokja, it’s natural for things to be a bit confused.

Kim Dokja’s still a bit pissed off by it, though.

“If you start listening to him over me, I guarantee I won’t help you process the Demon Soul Pill if you win it in the martial arts competition.”

“The - hey, that isn’t the first place prize, though?”

“It isn’t.”

Actually, Kim Dokja isn’t even sure if Jang Hayoung will be able to train well enough in time to win even the third place prize, but that didn’t seem like the right thing to say.

Jang Hayoung puffs up like an offended bird. “Have more faith in me, ahjussi! I’m learning fast, so I’ll win it all, you’ll see!”

“Can you beat Yoo Joonghyuk yet?” Kim Dokja asks mildly.

“That guy isn’t even a challenge!”

“Which guy?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, approaching them. He must have smelled the Murim Dumplings too.

Jang Hayoung, seeing him come over to them, quickly tosses him the bag of Murim Dumplings and slinks back to hide behind Kim Dokja.

“This guy,” Kim Dokja answers, pointing at Yoo Joonghyuk. “It seems like Jang Hayoung may be coming for you soon, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“Ahjussi -!”

“Weren’t you feeling brave just a moment ago?” Kim Dokja asks sunnily. Jang Hayoung wilts.

Yoo Joonghyuk, watching the exchange, hums in mild amusement and busies himself with picking out the largest of the remaining Murim Dumplings.

“That douchebag really shouldn’t be a pack leader, ahjussi,” Jang Hayoung complains quietly at Kim Dokja’s side. “Everyone knows the youngest is supposed to get the largest portion.”

“Didn’t you already have several dumplings before you started sharing them?” Kim Dokja asks, amused.

“...Breaking the Sky Master is younger than me, if you count in human years, and she hasn’t had her fill yet…”

“Don’t feed dogs too much of this,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. “Kim Dokja, that goes for you too.”

“Isn’t she your senior martial sister? Why so stingy?” Kim Dokja tsks.

Han Myungoh, watching the interaction, nods to himself. “This Yoo Joonghyuk is certainly the leader,” he mutters.

“Nooo,” Jang Hayoung whines. “Ahjussi, do something about this…”

“If I’m going to do something,” Kim Dokja says, his smile stretched thin, “I’ll be shutting you two up first.”

Yoo Joonghyuk finishes eating his Murim Dumpling and reaches for a second one.

“I told you before, Kim Dokja,” he says, not looking up at them. “If you don’t like when people misunderstand, then stop keeping your scent so tightly controlled.”

“Don’t shift all the blame on me,” Kim Dokja scolds. “If you were a bit more obedient, no one would get this mixed up - at the very least, you could deny it when others start calling you the pack lead.”

Yoo Joonghyuk remains stubbornly silent. This guy…!

Jang Hayoung, at least, looks relieved. “Ahjussi, why didn’t you just say you were pack lead?”

“Some things shouldn’t have to be said,” Kim Dokja insists petulantly.

“That’s why scents exist,” Jang Hayoung points out. “If you don’t scent mark anyone, then…?”

Ah - that explains why Jang Hayoung had brought this up to begin with. Generally, people are accepted into a pack when the pack lead scent marks them. Kim Dokja’s Company is an exception only because of Kim Dokja’s own habits.

That’s how he’s always been, though; scents give away too much about a person for Kim Dokja to feel comfortable having it so easily on display. Especially now, when Kim Dokja is slowly crawling through the Scenarios by scamming those he can, it would be foolish to give up his advantage of relative privacy.

“Isn’t it impolite to ask so bluntly to be let into a pack?” Kim Dokja asks wryly.

“I didn’t!” Jang Hayoung protests, swelling up in a beta’s mimicry of posturing. “A pack with ahjussi as a leader would be a disaster anyway. I was just curious, if packmates aren’t acknowledged with scent marks…”

Kim Dokja thinks about it for a moment.

“I buy people gifts,” he suggests.

“The only person you’ve bought gifts for reliably is Yoosung,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, rejecting the idea outright.

“Then, I give tips for the Scenarios.”

“Also unreliably,” Yoo Joonghyuk says sourly.

“That’s -”

“Saying something too late or without any explanation is the same as not saying it at all.”

Kim Dokja huffs. Isn’t this too picky?

“Then, how does ahjussi acknowledge people?” Jang Hayoung asks, now looking to Yoo Joonghyuk instead of Kim Dokja.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression darkens. “He’ll seek death in front of you.”

“Hey, wouldn’t anyone normally describe that as ‘risking their life for you?’ Why do you have to say it like that?” Kim Dokja complains.

“You think you’re the only one risking your life?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks dangerously.

Jang Hayoung edges back away from them both towards Han Myungoh. “Should you two be starting a new fight now?”

“Definitely not,” Kim Dokja says, smiling thinly at Yoo Joonghyuk.

“If you don’t like it,” Yoo Joonghyuk says once more, “then use your scent like anyone else.”

“Who knows if anyone would be able to detect it in the first place, with how much you’ve marked me up,” Kim Dokja grumbles. Really, that’s what started this whole thing, so -

Kim Dokja freezes. The air between them has shifted, somehow, and the expression on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face…

“I thought,” Yoo Joonghyuk says lowly, “that you had a bad nose?”

Belatedly, something occurs to Kim Dokja: the fact that Yoo Joonghyuk has been scent marking him in such brusque and odd ways could be explained if Yoo Joonghyuk had thought he’d been being sneaky about it.

If Yoo Joonghyuk thought that Kim Dokja’s nose is so weak that he can’t detect scent marks very well… did he think Kim Dokja couldn’t tell what Yoo Joonghyuk has been doing? Or had he been scent marking Kim Dokja as some sort of odd test, to see if Kim Dokja had really been telling the truth about having a weak nose?

Either way, Kim Dokja had clearly made a mistake just then by finally acknowledging Yoo Joonghyuk’s attempts to drown him in his scent.

“A very bad nose,” Kim Dokja agrees. He takes a half step backwards, glancing around. “That doesn’t mean everyone else does, though - you think no one would tell me?”

Yoo Joonghyuk narrows his eyes at him.

“If you were told,” he says, “why didn’t you wash it off?”

“I’m too delicate to take so many cold water baths,” Kim Dokja lies. “It’s better just to tolerate it. Since I can’t sense it myself, after all, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, “you can smell it just fine, can’t you?”

“Why would I lie about that?” Kim Dokja asks, laughing slightly.

It sounds like a nervous laugh even to his own ears. Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression gets worse.

Damn it, if only this guy hadn’t brought up the topic of imprinting so recently, he surely wouldn’t be this suspicious!

“Kim Dokja -”

“Hey, isn’t it time for your penalty soon?” Kim Dokja interrupts. He takes another few steps backwards. “I’ll go get more Murim Dumplings, since we’re out. So you just - uh, keep training. Fight hard, Joonghyuk-ah!”

Kim Dokja has already turned on his heel to leave before he’s finished talking, activating Way of the Wind to escape quickly. Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t give chase; it isn’t actually time for his penalty just yet, but Kim Dokja knows from feeling it happen over the last few days that it shouldn’t be much longer, and Yoo Joonghyuk clearly doesn’t want to risk it happening during…

What? A fight? Shit, is Kim Dokja really going to have to fight that bastard again?

He comes to a stop outside the main village closest to Breaking the Sky School, running a nervous hand through his hair. He messed up this time. If he wants to survive, he’ll really have to break his one-sided imprint on Yoo Joonghyuk before he returns.

He’ll really have to…

Ergh. It isn’t as extreme as the start of their time in First Murim, but Kim Dokja feels uneasy having left Yoo Joonghyuk behind when the other alpha is clearly upset at him. The instincts that an imprint inspires are really too dangerous to have to contend with in the middle of the Scenarios, so why does he struggle to break his imprint now?

Kim Dokja drops his hand from his head, sighing. He still smells like Yoo Joonghyuk, too. It’s much more irritating now that he knows Yoo Joonghyuk had been doing it in such a sneaky manner.

…It’s going to be a long day.

---

Kim Dokja doesn’t come back until late that night, hoping that Yoo Joonghyuk would value sleeping well during this crucial training period over catching Kim Dokja’s return.

Of course, this hope is crushed as soon as he sees Yoo Joonghyuk loitering next to the door to the Breaking the Sky School’s meagre dormitory building. Unless Kim Dokja learns how to teleport, there isn’t any way for him to slink in without that bastard noticing.

Scratch that; Yoo Joonghyuk has already noticed him.

“...Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja greets as he gets close. Yoo Joonghyuk watches him with the sharp eyes of a predator that’s finally caught up to something it’s been chasing for hours. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

“It seems like I did,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, voice low and somewhat dangerous. “Rats are nocturnal after all.”

Kim Dokja’s uneasy smile twitches. What’s with that comparison…?

“I’ll do my best to change my sleeping schedule in the future,” he lies. “What if our nebula’s Joonghyuk-ie loses a fight because he was up late considering a career in rodent-focused pest control?”

Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against and closing the distance between them in a couple of large strides. Kim Dokja starts to take a half step back, wary of Yoo Joonghyuk’s sudden approach, but Yoo Joonghyuk seems to see this coming: before he can get very far, Yoo Joonghyuk has already caught him by his wrist.

“Kim Dokja,” he calls, which Kim Dokja interprets as ‘Caught you.’

Yoo Joonghyuk pulls Kim Dokja’s wrist up to his face, nosing roughly at the cuff of his coat sleeve without ever breaking eye contact. Kim Dokja doesn’t have to guess how he smells; despite having run off earlier, it wasn’t like he’d done his laundry and taken a bath between then and now, so Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent would naturally still be lingering on him.

“I’m feeling generous tonight,” Yoo Joonghyuk says with an expression that implies anything but, “So I’ll give you a chance: fess up now, and I’ll go easy on you.”

“Do you even know what going easy on someone means?” Kim Dokja asks, testing Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip on his wrist. As expected, it isn’t easy to get out of.

“You’ve survived getting beat up by me in the past, haven’t you?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks in return.

Kim Dokja shudders. He isn’t quite sure if it’s from the threat itself or from seeing Yoo Joonghyuk make it with his teeth so close to Kim Dokja’s wrist.

“I have, so I know that it hurts enough that I don’t care to repeat it,” Kim Dokja says with a sharp smile. “I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t have any particular crimes to be fessing up for to begin with.”

Yoo Joonghyuk narrows his eyes.

“Kim Dokja,” he says, “right now, who do you think is already in the dormitory?”

Kim Dokja’s heart stutters, a there-and-gone again sign of nerves before the Fourth Wall manages to suppress it. Yoo Joonghyuk has caught him after all.

He forces a laugh anyway; forget fessing up, this is one thing Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t drag out of him even if he drove his sword through him a second time.

“Yoo Joonghyuk, are we playing a children’s game now?”

“Are you really stupid, or just pretending?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip tightens on Kim Dokja’s wrist, pressing bruises into the skin as if painting a frame around the scent gland there. “At this distance, you should be able to scent anyone in that small building clearly, so name them.”

Kim Dokja swallows thickly. The effects of an imprint are not as strong as if it was made permanent with a bond; ordinarily, he really would be able to tell who’s in the dormitory from this distance, even if the scents were a bit muted to him.

Ordinarily, assuming that Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t standing so close to him, overwhelming Kim Dokja’s senses with his own warm scent.

“Haven’t I already told you I have a weak sense of smell?” Kim Dokja tries, tugging on his wrist again. Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t budge.

“If your nose is truly weak, then you should be able to smell everyone equally weakly.”

“What do you mean, ‘truly’ weak? You don’t believe me?”

“You seemed to be able to smell it just fine when Jang Hayoung brought back Murim Dumplings, and you were further away from those than you are to the dormitory now,” Yoo Joonghyuk accuses.

“Well - we have an audience, you know. One of our viewers back then was simply kind enough to tell me that dinner had arrived,” Kim Dokja says.

Yoo Joonghyuk tilts his head back, as if suddenly realizing something.

“Biyoo,” he calls. Biyoo obediently pops out from Kim Dokja’s coat pocket. “Go to sleep.”

“Hey -”

“Ba-at,” Biyoo says in easy agreement and slips back into Kim Dokja’s pocket with a tired-sounding sigh. The part of Kim Dokja that has been acutely attuned to the Star Stream’s system ever since he became a constellation feels the channel go dark.

“...Why does she seem to listen to you better than me?” Kim Dokja says, a bit resentful. That was practically his child, after all.

“She’s an infant - she isn’t old enough to have some understanding of the stupid scentless way you acknowledge us,” Yoo Joonghyuk says reproachfully. “If you want her to see you as pack lead, you’ll have to actually scent mark her.”

Kim Dokja blinks, a bit taken aback. Yoo Joonghyuk has never so straight forwardly acknowledged Kim Dokja as pack lead before. Even just a few hours earlier, he’d remained stubbornly silent when Kim Dokja had tried to get him to do so. The fact that it’s happening now, with Kim Dokja’s wrist still held tightly and his back up against a metaphorical wall, makes it feel a bit…

“The dormitory,” Yoo Joonghyuk reminds him, impatience starting to sharpen his words. “Or I’ll assume you can’t smell anyone at all.”

Shit. Kim Dokja is really in danger here.

“Is this really necessary? I -”

“The dormitory, Kim Dokja.”

Kim Dokja’s mouth snaps shut with a small click. The back of his neck feels tacky with sweat. The humid air of the summer night, so much warmer than the 73rd Demon Realm had been, only makes things worse.

“...Department Head Han,” Kim Dokja says eventually.

“Is snoring,” Yoo Joonghyuk dismisses. “You could probably hear him even if you didn’t put so many coins into your stats.”

“It counts though, right? Joonghyuk-ah, isn’t that enough to indulge this game of yours, haha…?”

“If you really can’t answer,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, deadly quiet, “then that’s an answer in itself.”

Kim Dokja’s eyes dart towards the dormitory building over Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. It really is small, and it really is close. Kim Dokja should really, really be able to make out the scents of the people sleeping inside. It’s just because of his impulsive decision back then - because of his one-sided imprint - that Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent is so strong in front of him and everyone else’s is almost entirely washed out underneath it.

If he focuses enough, though, he can still make out some things. Jang Hayoung’s scent is more easily distinguishable to Kim Dokja since it often feels louder than others’ do - like two scents layered on top of each other in a confused sort of way. Breaking the Sky Master, as a dog, has a scent that’s a bit difficult for humans to parse, but would be wherever Namgung Minyoung was. And Namgung Minyoung…

By chance, a warm breeze stirs the air up. It’s just enough; Namgung Minyoung’s strong pine scent is barely detectable underneath Yoo Joonghyuk’s warm ginger.

Some of the tension relaxes out of Kim Dokja’s shoulders. He shouldn’t have overthought it, really - at this hour, it would be normal for everyone to already be back in the dormitory.

“What did you think the answer would be?” Kim Dokja says, purposefully flippant. “Of course, everyone’s already gone to bed except us, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“Everyone?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks.

“Everyone.”

Yoo Joonghyuk holds his gaze for a long moment, assessing him. Kim Dokja keeps his body language deliberately casual. And then -

Yoo Joonghyuk bares his teeth. This time, Kim Dokja’s pulse really does jump at the sight of such a thing pressed up against his wrist.

“You really can’t tell,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, furious. “Kim Dokja, my Master isn’t in there.”

“Are you sure it isn’t your nose that’s busted?” Kim Dokja asks, renewing his efforts to try and pull his arm free of Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip as dread starts to creep in around the edges of his thoughts. “Clearly, her scent -”

“Is on me,” Yoo Joonghyuk interrupts, teeth still on display and scent flaring with frustration and anger. “You just can’t tell the difference -”

“Yoo Joonghyuk, just - ”

“- because you can’t smell anything but me to begin with,” Yoo Joonghyuk finishes.

[Exclusive skill ‘Fourth Wall’ has offset some of your fear!]

…Actually, it’s a little humiliating that he’s scared enough for his stupid skill to activate in the first place.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” Kim Dokja says, his easy, teasing tone falling flat even to his own ears, “but since you brought it up first - Yoo Joonghyuk, you really stink. Anyone might get the scents confused when you’re standing so close.”

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk snarls, “you dared to reject me while having one-sidedly imprinted on me this whole time?!”

“Are you crazy? I didn’t do anything like that, I value my own life too much!”

[Lie Detection Lvl. 11 has been used!]

[Statement has been confirmed as ‘false!’]

The last of Kim Dokja’s vague, desperate hope to convince Yoo Joonghyuk out of this train of thought vanishes. He doesn’t even get the chance to start thinking up defenses for why he has a one-sided imprint on the other alpha to begin with, now that the option of dismissing the idea altogether is gone.

Instead, Yoo Joonghyuk uses the wrist he’s kept captive this whole time to yank Kim Dokja forwards and around to bodily throw him to the ground. Kim Dokja gasps as the air is slammed out of him, and then again when all of Yoo Joonghyuk’s weight is pressed into him in the next moment before he can even begin to recover.

“Yoo Joonghyuk -!”

Yoo Joonghyuk, pressing into Kim Dokja with a knee to his gut and both hands around his throat, snaps his teeth mere inches from Kim Dokja’s face. Kim Dokja shuts up.

“Since when?” Yoo Joonghyuk seethes.

“...Not too long ago,” Kim Dokja lies, his voice reedy and strained from having to fight around Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers digging into this windpipe.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs, his hands curling tighter and tighter around Kim Dokja’s neck until he feels faint. “Since when?”

Kim Dokja tries, desperately, to gasp for enough air to keep bullshitting Yoo Joonghyuk.

“It was - was a side effect of my Fate,” Kim Dokja wheezes. “You said yourself it - hah, it read like a confession.”

“The Star Stream doesn’t interfere with dynamics,” Yoo Joonghyuk dismisses. “You did this, Kim Dokja. When?”

Kim Dokja is rapidly running out of halfway believable excuses. He’s seriously running out of air, too; his throat aches and his lungs burn and his pulse drums painfully against the shape of Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands.

“My possession skill,” Kim Dokja gasps, a last-ditch effort.

Yoo Joonghyuk narrows his eyes. “You’re incorporeal when you use it,” he accuses. “What scent gland could I possibly -”

Yoo Joonghyuk breaks off. His eyes slide down from Kim Dokja’s face to his throat - to his own hands wrapped there, mere centimeters from touching the scent gland at the nape of Kim Dokja’s neck.

The thing is, imprinting doesn’t require both parties to press their scent glands against each other. If it’s only a one-sided imprint, it’s enough for a person’s scent gland to make direct contact with the skin of the other person - in some cases, even a heavily scented piece of cloth would do. That’s all an imprint is, in the end: pressing someone’s scent intimately close to you and thinking ‘yes, this is the one.’

Yoo Joonghyuk has always worn guards around his scent glands - the cloth wraps around his wrists, the high collar around his neck. With his background as a pro-gamer, he was used to having to worry about fans trying to force him into an imprint at meetups or competitions. It wasn’t that simple, of course - Yoo Joonghyuk would still have had to acknowledge the scent pressed into him for an imprint to actually take - but covering his scent glands at least discouraged crazed fans from making stupid attempts.

Kim Dokja, ever unpopular, has never had that sort of problem. He’s never bothered wearing guards for his scent glands, and as an alpha, there wasn’t any societal pressure to wear a collar, either. As such, the scent gland on Kim Dokja’s neck has always been exposed. If Kim Dokja truly wanted to, he could have imprinted on anyone who touched it for a long enough period that he could get a good read on their scent.

For example, if Kim Dokja hadn’t already formed an imprint on the bastard pressing him into the ground, then Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers around his neck would be just barely enough for one to form now.

For example, if there had been another time in the past when Yoo Joonghyuk had wrapped his bare fingers around Kim Dokja’s neck…

Kim Dokja doesn’t dare watch the realization fall into place across Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. He activates Miniaturization and Way of the Wind first, instantly shrinking down to slip through Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers and darting away.

Yoo Joonghyuk follows quickly. He lunges for him, not hesitating to open up his first stage of Transcendence just so that he has the speed to catch up to Kim Dokja and practically slap him out of the air. Kim Dokja’s whole body stings with the force of being hit by Yoo Joonghyuk’s palm, and he has to frantically cancel his Miniaturization so that his body would hit the ground at a larger size and therefore sustain less damage. Yoo Joonghyuk is on him in the next second, trying to get him pinned like he’d had him earlier, but Kim Dokja knows better than to let it happen.

Right now, Yoo Joonghyuk is really, really mad at him.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk snarls as he’s nearly thrown off of him, Kim Dokja bucking and thrashing around to prevent Yoo Joonghyuk from getting a good grip on him. “All this time -!”

“Shut up, please shut up,” Kim Dokja says, activating Electrification for the briefest of moments just so that his next wild swipe at Yoo Joonghyuk is charged with enough energy that Yoo Joonghyuk has to jerk out of the way.

Even that short period is enough to slap him with a penalty for trying to use the skill without Miniaturization, though, and his vision blurs with the sudden onset of pain before the Fourth Wall suppresses it for him.

“Did you think it was funny?” Yoo Joonghyuk hisses, not missing the opening of Kim Dokja’s momentary weakness to stabilize his grip on him, once more firmly pinning him to the ground. “What kind of damned fool imprints on someone the moment they meet them?”

Shit. Hearing it out loud really makes it sound a bit pathetic.

It’s useless to deny at this point, though. There really had only been one other time when Yoo Joonghyuk had ever pressed his skin so close to Kim Dokja’s scent glands before: when they’d first met, and Yoo Joonghyuk had dangled him off a bridge with one hand wrapped tight around his neck.

And Kim Dokja - lonely, pathetic Kim Dokja whose best friend, older brother, and hopeless crush had all been the same stupid protagonist that he’d grown up reading about - had one-sidedly imprinted on him before he’d even realized what he was doing.

“I said back then that I was a fan, didn’t I?” Kim Dokja laughs. It sounds strained even to his ears. “It’s only one-sided, it isn’t that serious -”

Yoo Joonghyuk, hands currently occupied with trying to keep Kim Dokja pinned, resorts to the sort of weapon a rough-housing pup would use: he leans down and bites down hard on Kim Dokja’s shoulder. He doesn’t hold back, either - Kim Dokja can feel the dull pain of it even through his shirt and coat.

“Are you an untrained pup?! What the hell are you biting me for?” Kim Dokja protests, trying to buck Yoo Joonghyuk off of him. He manages to knock his own head painfully into Yoo Joonghyuk’s in the process, and the other alpha releases the bite to pull back out of the way.

“A pup?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, his lips curled back in a snarl. “You think pups imprint on each other? You think pups are as stupid as you are? What part of this is the sort of fight a pup would get into?”

“Yoo Joonghyuk -”

“Imprinting on me the moment you meet me, rejecting my imprint when I offered later on, and then saying it isn’t serious - do you want to die that badly?”

“If I wanted to die, there are better ways than trying to make a mad dog like you angry,” Kim Dokja snarls, fully giving up on his light hearted tone. “Anyway, you already gave it a shot once for that awful Fate, and it didn’t quite work, did it?”

Yoo Joonghyuk gives up holding onto one of Kim Dokja’s wrists to shove his head to the side instead, leaning in for what is clearly going to be a bite just as rough and bruising as the first one. Worse, he seems to be aiming to bite at Kim Dokja’s neck this time instead of his shoulder - a location both unguarded by the fabric of his clothes and much, much closer to the critical scent gland on the nape of his neck.

Kim Dokja immediately uses his newly-freed hand to slap Yoo Joonghyuk’s head away.

“Bastard, quit trying to bite me!” he hisses. In response, Yoo Joonghyuk turns his head to snap at the fingers Kim Dokja is using to try and push him away, making Kim Dokja yelp when the violent bastard manages to successfully nip at the side of his palm.

Damn it, what the hell are they doing scuffling around on the ground like this? Neither of them have even bothered using a skill since Yoo Joonghyuk had pinned him down this time.

Frustrated, Kim Dokja releases some of his Status as a constellation. It’s pitiful compared to what it should be - Kim Dokja’s Stories are still weak from the patchwork repair he’s had to do recently - but Yoo Joonghyuk has stopped channeling his Transcendence and so it’s enough to press him back for just a moment.

This time, Kim Dokja doesn’t bother trying to escape. Instead, he flips them so that he’s pinning Yoo Joonghyuk down instead, sitting on Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest so that he can reach for and pin down Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands despite their height difference. He doesn’t have the weight to keep Yoo Joonghyuk pinned, but he’s put enough coins into his strength stat to at least be fairly even with the bastard, and his recovering Status makes up for the rest.

“Just sit still!” Kim Dokja snaps.

His scent had naturally flared out of his careful control when he’d released his Status - a scent of old paper and cold air, so different from Yoo Joonghyuk’s warmth - and he subconsciously presses it into Yoo Joonghyuk now, like trying to smother a fire with a blanket.

Yoo Joonghyuk, against all of Kim Dokja’s own expectations, really does go still.

He isn’t totally subdued, of course - his scent rises to push back against Kim Dokja’s, the spiced ginger of it sharp and still so very furious as he instinctively defends against being pressed down by another alpha’s scent. Kim Dokja has spent the last day or so getting used to being practically smothered in Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent, though, so it hardly feels like a real sort of aggression.

Instead, Kim Dokja finds his attention drawn to the way Yoo Joonghyuk’s muscles tense and his pupils blow wide, the way Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest heaves underneath him as Yoo Joonghyuk’s breaths grow deep and ragged.

Neither of them say a word, only breathing heavily as the air around them grows thick with aggressive alpha scents, ginger and old books and a mood of shut the fuck up or I’ll sit you the fuck down. Kim Dokja’s fingers flex around Yoo Joonghyuk’s wrists, careful not to give him any ground.

Yoo Joonghyuk bares his teeth at him, looking up at him with the arrogant, righteous anger that’s been burning him up ever since he realized that Kim Dokja has kept a one-sided imprint on him this whole time.

And then, ever so slightly, Yoo Joonghyuk tips his head up and to the side: an act of submission that he makes look like a challenge issued to Kim Dokja alone.

[Exclusive skill ‘Fourth Wall’ has offset some of your shock!]

[Exclusive skill ‘Fourth Wall’ is greatly shaken!]

Kim Dokja wrenches himself off of Yoo Joonghyuk as quickly as if he’d been burned, clumsily pushing himself to his feet with so much force that he stumbles backwards before he can regain his balance.

That stupid, unreliable skill of his! Kim Dokja’s whole nervous system feels as if it’s reacting to a firework set off at his feet, flustered and nearly panicked at the sight of Yoo Joonghyuk baring his neck.

[I  sa id  I  wouldn’t  he lp  w ith  an ything  stu pid  like  th is] the Fourth Wall says, and Kim Dokja swears under his breath.

What ‘greatly shaken’ - isn’t that just his skill laughing at him?!

“Are you a coward on top of a fool?” Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs, pushing himself off the ground now that he’s free.

He doesn’t immediately lunge for Kim Dokja this time, though, only watching him with dark, glossy eyes and his mouth slightly parted as if trying to taste the air with each breath. Fuck; Yoo Joonghyuk looks scent-drunk, and Kim Dokja has a bad feeling that he doesn’t look much better.

“Cowards have high survivability in situations like this, you know,” Kim Dokja laughs shakily.

Without the Fourth Wall doing its job, Kim Dokja can feel his face grow so warm it makes him feel nearly feverish, the image of Yoo Joonghyuk beneath him haunting him even with as much space as he’s put between them. He can’t stop scenting the air, either, the sensation of their scents curling against each other making him dizzy.

Yoo Joonghyuk, blinking as if waking from a daze, suddenly looks a bit smug.

“A coward,” he repeats, “but one with scent glands that still work after all.”

Slowly, Yoo Joonghyuk raises a hand up to his own neck. He hasn’t been wearing his coat while in First Murim, but he still changes back into his usual style of high-necked shirt and collar whenever he’s finished training for the day. Now, he roughly unclasps that collar, tugging down the high neck of his shirt beneath it.

Belatedly, Kim Dokja’s mind finally catches up: he’d sat on top of Yoo Joonghyuk, and he’d pushed his scent onto him as a sort of aggressive pressure. Although it hadn’t been his exact intention, the result can only be that Yoo Joonghyuk is currently very thoroughly covered in Kim Dokja’s own scent.

And now Yoo Joonghyuk, looking like he’s gotten exactly what he wanted, is exposing the scent gland on his neck - a larger, more vulnerable scent gland than those at the wrists.

A scent gland that could, in theory, allow an imprint even if all Yoo Joonghyuk had was a heavily scented piece of fabric instead of direct skin contact.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja warns, sounding alarmingly breathless even to his own ears, “don’t do something you’ll regret later.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looks at him with contempt. “You don’t have the right to stop me.”

“This and that are two different matters,” Kim Dokja says weakly. “Weren’t you just digging into me about not being able to detect others’ scents well? You wouldn’t want to give yourself that kind of handicap -”

“You think I can’t manage with a handicap?” Yoo Joonghyuk sneers. Kim Dokja’s knees feel a little weak.

“- then, Lee Seolhwa -”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression twists in irritation. His scent doesn’t spike like it usually does when he’s in a bad mood, though; at some point, Yoo Joonghyuk had purposefully reigned his scent in to prevent it from chasing away any of the scent that Kim Dokja had left on him.

Shit. Yoo Joonghyuk is really serious. If Kim Dokja doesn’t stop this -

If Yoo Joonghyuk completes the imprint -

Kim Dokja’s mouth is dry. The Fourth Wall has left him to deal with this himself, and it isn’t something he’s capable of. He can’t even look away from Yoo Joonghyuk’s bare neck.

“Shut up, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, and then drags his wrist - the sleeve of his shirt, where Kim Dokja had held him when he’d tried to keep him still - across the scent gland on the nape of his neck with a deliberate slowness.

For a long moment, Kim Dokja thinks it won’t take. Kim Dokja may have pushed his scent onto Yoo Joonghyuk, but it hadn’t been a purposeful sort of scenting. Surely, something as important as an imprint would need something better than that. Surely, even if it was enough, Yoo Joonghyuk himself wouldn’t actually accept it for an imprint - surely he was only trying to threaten Kim Dokja, to get a bit of revenge for the fact that Kim Dokja had kept his own one-sided imprint a secret.

The moment passes. An expression Kim Dokja has never seen before passes over Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, something like a violent sort of satisfaction.

And then, in that space next to his heart where Kim Dokja has always been able to feel a vague sense for Yoo Joonghyuk’s current wellbeing, a flame bursts into life.

It’s nearly overwhelming. Kim Dokja, still largely abandoned by the Fourth Wall, nearly staggers from the sheer intensity of the feeling, as if his chest and heart and everything else have all swelled up to three times their size in order to try and contain the endless warmth and energy suddenly inside him. It’s a useless effort; the excess of it all feels like it’s spilling out from between his ribs, his flesh and blood and Stories all turned incandescent from Yoo Joonghyuk’s touch.

This is only an imprint, Kim Dokja thinks, nearly desperate to rationalize away the feeling. It isn’t a permanent bond, it’s only an imprint, so it shouldn’t feel so…

Kim Dokja gives up. Even within his own mind, labeling how the imprint feels now that it’s been returned and turned into a closed loop feels dangerous.

“...From this side of it, isn’t it a little unreasonable to be surprised that I’d been imprinted on you?” Kim Dokja asks. His voice sounds embarrassingly weak and reedy.

“You did sleep through biology,” Yoo Joonghyuk accuses. His voice sounds just as wrecked, but his protagonist buff means that he just sounds sexy and gravely and not like a middle school boy hitting puberty. “Imprints have to be mutual to establish any sort of emotional link. I couldn’t feel you until now either.”

Kim Dokja laughs faintly, feeling a bit helpless. The mutual imprint still feels overwhelming, like trying to hold a star between his palms and watching as the heat melts him away into nothing.

“That’s good,” Kim Dokja mutters, relieved. He drags a hand over his face. “If you’d had to fight the Scenarios feeling like this because of my imprint, I think I really would have deserved a good few hits.”

The too-big-too-intense feeling in Kim Dokja’s chest twists. It isn’t a direct emotional understanding - not even a permanent bond could achieve that - but there’s a faint impression of the emotions Yoo Joonghyuk is feeling that Kim Dokja can parse through if he lets himself.

This particular emotion is not a happy one.

“You deserve a few hits regardless,” Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs.

Kim Dokja drops his hand from his face, glaring weakly at Yoo Joonghyuk. “Didn’t you already get your fill?”

Yoo Joonghyuk frowns, and Kim Dokja holds up a hand before he can say anything.

“That was a joke,” he says flatly. “No more hitting. I’ll - go find an inn for the night, or something.”

“What?”

Kim Dokja rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t think we’ll be able to break the imprint if we’re within close proximity to each other.”

After all, Kim Dokja hasn’t been able to break his one-sided imprint on Yoo Joonghyuk this whole time; he can’t imagine how much more difficult it would be to get into the correct mindspace of rejecting the other person when they’re fending off this overwhelming emotional connection. Kim Dokja had, over the past several months, noticed that some elements of his one-sided imprint would grow somewhat weaker when he was far away from Yoo Joonghyuk, so they’ll just have to hope that the same is true of this new emotional element.

When Kim Dokja chances a glance back at Yoo Jonghyuk, though, it becomes clear that there’s a different obstacle he has to tackle first.

“Why,” Yoo Joonghyuk grits out, “do you want to break it?”

“Yoo Joonghyuk, think this through,” Kim Dokja says. “We can’t fight like this.”

“Like what?” Yoo Joonghyuk demands. Kim Dokja gestures vaguely at the space between them.

“Your… emotions,” he says, stilted and awkward. “They’re distracting. I’m sure it’s the same for you. Imprinting was a mistake.”

Realization flickers across Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. Kim Dokja feels the flash of irritation that follows through their imprint right before Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips begin to pull down into a scowl.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says dangerously, “you’re the only one who hasn’t had this distraction until now.”

Kim Dokja looks at Yoo Joonghyuk doubtfully. “I don’t think anyone in our group has an imprint or bond.”

“No,” Yoo Joongyuk agrees. He stalks forward, closing the distance that Kim Dokja had put between them.

Kim Dokja tries to back up, suddenly desperate to keep that small space between them, but his legs are still too weak. Shifting his weight makes his whole body shake, his bones still shaken from the magnitude of what only amounts to a vague impression of Yoo Joonghyuk’s feelings.

“Then don’t pretend like this level of distraction is normal -”

“It is,” Yoo Joonghyuk hisses, reaching out to grab Kim Dokja by the collar and haul him in close. “We’ve all been fighting to survive while bearing the weight of our companion’s emotions. We’ve all been trying to survive in a way that doesn’t make things worse, except you.”

“Yoo Joonghyuk -”

“If having to feel things directly like this is what it takes for you to take things seriously,” Yoo Joonghyuk snaps, his emotions wild and furious between them, “then I’ll bite you right now and make it permanent, you fool!”

Alarmed, Kim Dokja reaches up to slap a hand on his neck over his scent gland, as if that measly defense would stop Yoo Joonghyuk if he really decided to go for it.

“I - Joonghyuk, I’ve told you before, I am taking things seriously -”

“Then your impression of how much your actions affect us is too far off the mark to count,” Yoo Joonghyuk snarls.

Kim Dokja feels his lips start to pull back to show his teeth against his own say-so. Yoo Joonghyuk’s emotions, however vaguely they’re felt, are too strong: they make it difficult for Kim Dokja to keep his own emotions in check.

“Back in the tenth scenario,” Kim Dokja says slowly, glaring up at Yoo Joonghyuk, “you tried to do the exact same thing I did. At least I had a plan to survive after - unless you can say the same, you’re not in a position to judge me.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers curl tighter around the crumpled fabric of Kim Dokja’s collar.

“That’s right,” he says. “I would have died there. But I would have regressed -”

“Is that not being inconsiderate of the emotions of your companions?” Kim Dokja asks meanly. “Yoo Joonghyuk, you have pups that look up to you in this worldline.”

“And you don’t?”

“I didn’t die.”

“You still left them behind,” Yoo Joonghyuk argues, “you still left us behind!”

“And then I called for you!” Kim Dokja cries.

Yoo Joonghyuk, poised to argue some more, jerks as if slapped. There’s a moment of quiet that follows, the only sound between them the frantic panting of their breath.

“I used your name in the 73rd Demon Realm,” Kim Dokja says after a few beats have passed, quiet in the wake of their shouts. “And you came.”

“...I came,” Yoo Joonghyuk agrees, just as quietly.

“Then -”

“But it would have been better,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, his eyes burning with intensity, “if I’d gone with you to begin with.”

Kim Dokja laughs once, sharply. “That wasn’t an option.”

“I could’ve arrived quicker,” Yoo Joonghyuk insists. “If I’d been more sure you were alive, I would have reached out to Uriel before she contacted me.”

“How could you have known? There’s a limit to how fast I can spread a name, even if it’s yours, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Yoo Joonghyuk tilts his head up, as if accepting a challenge.

“I could have felt it,” he says. “If a mutual imprint like this existed, I would have felt it.”

“You wouldn’t have imprinted on me back then,” Kim Dokja dismisses. “You only wanted an imprint when we met again because of the circumstances.”

“The circumstances,” Yoo Joonghyuk repeats dryly. “You’re so -”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers clench tight once more, and his free hand curls tight into a fist at his side as if considering hitting Kim Dokja again after all.

Instead, he yanks Kim Dokja forward to press a bruising kiss against his lips.

It isn’t romantic. Honestly, it kind of hurts; Yoo Joonghyuk presses into him as aggressively as if this, too, is a fight he can win, and when Kim Dokja tries to tilt his head away he retaliates by roughly dragging his teeth over Kim Dokja’s bottom lip. Kim Dokja is still being held by the collar, his weight half-lifted by Yoo Joonghyuk and causing an uncomfortable strain as Kim Dokja tries to keep his balance.

The way the emotional connection between them lights up at the contact makes it difficult to focus on any of the discomfort, though. It’s unbearably intense, like a flashbang let off between his lungs. Kim Dokja’s knees finally give out, and only Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip on him keeps him upright.

“J’ngh’k,” Kim Dokja gasps, the sound muffled against Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth. “-ey, J’nghyuk, this -”

Yoo Joonghyuk bites fiercely at Kim Dokja’s lips once more, as if trying to get him to shut up. Kim Dokja makes a small noise of irritation in the back of his throat, pushing weakly at Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest to try and separate them.

Finally, Yoo Joonghyuk pulls away. He lets go of Kim Dokja in the same moment, and Kim Dokja crumples to the ground in a humiliating mess of limbs.

“I won’t break my side of the imprint,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, looking down at him with a determination burning so bright it looks like fury. “Break yours, if you’re capable, but I won’t break mine.”

Kim Dokja looks up at Yoo Joonghyuk in something akin to despair.

He won’t be able to break his side of the imprint. He’s tried countless times over the last few months, and even more frequently since Yoo Joonghyuk showed up in the 73rd Demon Realm and started making things so complicated.

Kim Dokja isn’t capable of rejecting Yoo Joonghyuk in a way that his instincts will ever take seriously.

Helplessly, Kim Dokja presses the back of his hand against his lips. His mouth tastes metallic from the blood Yoo Joonghyuk had spilt in his final, furious bite.

“This is a bad idea,” he mumbles against his hand. “This - it’s a really, really bad idea, Joonghyuk.”

“If you don’t want to be distracted by my emotions in a fight,” Yoo Joonghyuk says defiantly, “then don’t do stupid things that would upset me to begin with.”

Kim Dokja laughs weakly. “It isn’t that simple…”

The emotional link between them, still burning bright with the intensity from their kiss, twists. After a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk crouches down to meet Kim Dokja’s eyes.

“I won’t rely on regression any more,” he swears quietly. “So you have to live properly too.”

Kim Dokja feels nearly dizzy. Of everything exchanged between them tonight, this feels the most like a confession.

“I can’t always take the same path as you, Joonghyuk.”

“Then go and come back,” Yoo Joonghyuk says.

It’s an echo of when he’d dismissed Kim Dokja’s worries about the Gourmet Association’s banquet happening on the same day as the martial arts competition; a send off that expects a return.

“So long as I can know that you’re alive,” Yoo Joonghyuk continues, “then leave, and return when you can.”

Kim Dokja smiles wryly. “It feels less sincere when I can feel your emotions like this,” he says. “You don’t want me to leave to begin with.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stubbornly doesn’t reply.

Still, this is probably the best they have. How many times until now has Kim Dokja used his one-sided imprint to check that Yoo Joonghyuk was still alive, or as a first alarm before he checks on the situation with Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint to see if he needs to provide help? Having Yoo Joonghyuk doing the same to Kim Dokja would be… nice, in a way. Yoo Joonghyuk is reliable when he’s needed.

In front of him, Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth parts slightly, the way it always does when he smells something he likes, trying to catch the scent of it on his tongue. Kim Dokja, realizing the scent of old books and cold air has thickened around them again, sighs in defeat.

“I’m going to have to relearn scent control,” Kim Dokja mutters, letting himself fall backwards, collapsing completely onto his back on the grass.

“Was your control so flimsy that it’s disrupted just by this?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks. Kim Dokja kicks blindly in his direction, but fails to make contact.

“What’s ‘just this’ supposed to mean?” Kim Dokja complains. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Hm,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, sounding a bit satisfied. There’s a soft rustling of fabric as he shifts, moving to lay down next to Kim Dokja on the grass. They’re both still breathing a bit heavily from their tousle and all the shouting.

Between them, the emotional link of their mutual imprint hums with warmth. It feels a bit like their shared Story, when it’s continuing its storytelling.

Yoo Joonghyuk shifts a bit closer, his shoulder bumping against Kim Dokja’s. “It’s better if you don’t control it so tightly.”

“Right, right, I can’t complain about misunderstandings if I do -”

“Fool. I’m talking about our pack, not what an outsider might think.”

Kim Dokja pauses, turning the words over in his mind. Yoo Joonghyuk is really on a winning streak of finding things that make Kim Dokja feel a bit like jelly when he says them.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he asks mildly.

“You should scent mark the pups, at least.” Yoo Joonghyuk says, ignoring the question.

“I still can’t believe Biyoo listens to you better just because of something like a little scent marking,” Kim Dokja groans. “I birthed her myself, you know?”

“Don’t make stupid jokes.”

“Well, it’s similar enough…”

Yoo Joonghyuk nudges at Kim Dokja’s shoulder roughly in a silent demand for him to shut up. Kim Dokja nudges him back just as roughly.

“And you shouldn’t have sent her to sleep!” Kim Dokja complains. “Joonghyuk, when the channel’s back up, we should do a reenactment, Uriel would -”

Yoo Joonghyuk nudges Kim Dokja’s shoulder hard enough that it’s more like a ‘shove’ than a ‘nudge.’ Kim Dokja shuts up.

…For a little bit, at least.

“I should probably warn you,” he says carefully. “You’ll figure it out yourself once you pay attention to how much information is sent over the imprint, but your - ahem - disappearance penalty -”

Yoo Joonghyuk bolts upright in an instant. “How much do you know?”

“Pass,” Kim Dokja says mildly. “No need to put it into words, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression grows dark. The emotional link between them lights up with what is - delightfully for Kim Dokja - very clearly embarrassment.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says slowly, “I’ll give you a ten second head start.”

“Wait - hold on, this isn’t my fault?”

“Ten,” Yoo Joonghyuk says.

“Actually, shouldn’t I be getting rewarded? I could have just kept my mouth shut and let you figure it out on your own!”

“Five.”

Kim Dokja scrambles up onto his elbows. “Five? What happened to nine through six?!”

“Start running, Kim Dokja.”

Kim Dokja starts running. In a betrayal of his own standards, it turns out to be a bit fun.