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Kim Dokja is sick.
He’s sick of a lot of things actually. He’s sick of his job, sick of his boss, sick of this stupid trashy webnovel that he’s reading to pass the time.
But no, he’s actually sick this time—the kind of sickness that has him wanting to stay in bed and not do anything. So here he is, on his bed. Wrapped up in blankets. Staring at the ceiling. Doing nothing. He’s sick and he hates it.
Well, if anything, he’s mostly mad that he’s lost his five year streak of not being sick. He’s taken not being sick for granted.
He sniffles, trying to stop his nose from running. He sniffles, and it won’t stop running. Eventually he gives up sniffling, so he reaches over and grabs a tissue on his bedside table and blows his nose with a groan. He tosses the used up tissue into a general area where the trash can should be and hopes that it didn’t miss.
Kim Dokja checks to see where the tissue landed and finds it on the floor amongst all the other tissues that had also apparently missed the trash can. And you know what, he doesn’t care because sports was never his forte afterall.
He snuggles back into the warmth of his blankets and doesn’t breathe in any particular scent because he can’t breathe. And because his mind is bored, he starts to think of Yoo Joonghyuk because he is prime entertainment.
He thinks of what Yoo Joonghyuk would think of if he saw all of the tissues on the floor and he promptly starts to smile to himself. Yoo Joonghyuk would tell him to pick them all up, but then he would whine and complain that he is sick, sick Joonghyuk-ie, and Yoo Joonghyuk would have no choice but to pick them up all for him because he can’t resist Kim Dokja in all of his sickly charm.
Slight laughs start to bubble up from his mouth, but then he starts coughing, so he sits up.
Trying to breathe through his mouth, he goes back to his favorite activity of staring at the ceiling, noticing a very prominent brown stain that he swears was never there before.
There’s a subtle brown spot in the left corner of the ceiling, just right above the door frame. The shape is not something Kim Dokja can make out clearly so he squints his eye-crusted eyes and tries to make out a distinct shape.
It faintly reminds him of Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression when he is trying to hold back a laugh from one of Kim Dokja’s stupid jokes. A sort of fond grimace.
Damn, day two of being sick and he’s going crazy already isn’t he.
He squints some more, before the brown stain is blocked by a Yoo Joonghyuk holding a bowl of steaming rice porridge.
Yoo Joonghyuk looks at all of the tissues on the floor, “you’re picking all of that up,” he says flatly before kicking them aside with his foot.
But Kim Dokja is distracted and isn’t paying attention to what he’s saying, squinting up at Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. “Shhh, for a second, I’m focused,” he says as he makes grabby hands at Yoo Joonghyuk’s face.
He probably looks stupid squinting up at him, but his husband relents as he places the steaming bowl on his bedside table and takes a seat on the edge of their bed, letting both of Kim Dokja’s hands cup the sides of his face.
“What are you doing?”
Kim Dokja moves his thumbs next to Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth as he tries to stretch it into a smile, looking back and forth from the brown spot on the ceiling that can be seen again and back to his husband’s face. He looks funny, unnatural; Kim Dokja’s heart bubbles, so he lets out a slight laugh at the sight.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows furrow as he wraps his hand around Kim Dokja’s wrist, trying to pull his hand away from his face.
He turns his head to try to find what exactly Kim Dokja was looking at.
“What are you even looking at?” Yoo Joonghyuk says exasperatedly.
A tug.
“What are you-”
“Wait, wait, look back over here,” Kim Dokja tugs his face closer so that Yoo Joonghyuk is looking back at him, a bit closer to his face now.
Kim Dokja squishes his stupidly handsome face with his fingers, making Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips pucker into fish lips. And really, how unfair is it that he still manages to look stupidly attractive when like this?
He squints some more, then turns back to look at the stain. And that’s what the brown stain reminded him of, a stupid sunfish.
“Hah, you really must be related to a sunfish or something,” he mutters under his breath lightly, almost a chuckle.
When he’s satisfied, he lets go of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face and pats his chest lightly, smiling, “sorry, I was just checking something.”
“You-” Yoo Joonghyuk starts before he furrows his brows some more (and it's only possible to furrow that hard because its Yoo Joonghyuk, the brow furrowing king, or something.) and places his cold hand on top of Kim Dokja’s forehead, under his bangs that he has no doubt is probably sweaty and disgusting.
The cool metal from his ring really does feel nice, so he closes his eyes and leans in a bit.
Yoo Joonghyuk removes his hand (which is really a shame because it felt so nice) and replaces it with a small kiss between his brows. A quiet, “you’re so stupid,” gets let out under his breath.
And Kim Dokja feels a little too warm. He’s too fond. His stomach feels funny.
He must be really sick, maybe he caught some sort of stomach bug too.
“Sit up,” Yoo Joonghyuk tells him, placing a hand on his lower back to help him get into a more proper sitting position than a slouch. And Kim Dokja groans and whines because he likes to be dramatic.
“Eat.”
Kim Dokja opens his eyes to see a spoon offered in front of him. Something in his stomach starts fluttering and Kim Dokja really thinks he can’t eat. He’s dying, he’s really dying here, right in front of Yoo Joonghyuk.
“Wow, Joonghyuk-ie, spoon-feeding me?” he says, trying to avoid this rising feeling of sickness inside of him. “It reminds me of when you were so sick this one time and I had to spoon-feed you your medic-”
He’s rudely interrupted by Yoo Joonghyuk shoving the spoon in his mouth, unfortunately gentle.
And it’s really unfortunate that Yoo Joonghyuk just so happens to be a good cook, it really is, because he can’t complain about it. It tastes too good, and that frustrates him.
It frustrates him, and that fluttery feeling is back.
“That’s rude, Joonghyuk, really no respect for your elders, huh?” Kim Dokja tries to tease.
Yoo Joonghyuk rolls his eyes, before getting another spoonful of rice porridge back onto his spoon. “Is growing stupidness part of your sick symptoms too?”
Despite his earlier internal ramblings, Kim Dokja doesn’t think he’s actually sick.
He was playing it up, playing it up dramatically, treating it as if it was the end of the world because he wanted Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention. Because he’s greedy.
Because he wanted the feeling of Yoo Joonghyuk gently brushing his bangs away with a cold hand, because he wanted to eat Yoo Joonghyuk’s special ‘get well soup’ that he often made Yoo Mia when she wasn’t feeling well, because he wanted to see Yoo Joonghyuk fuss over him. And maybe, maybe, because he just wanted to be held like he was loved.
He really should stop Yoo Joonghyuk from taking care of him.
Kim Dokja opens his mouth and lets Yoo Joonghyuk feed him some more porridge.
Maybe he really is a bad person, because despite his feelings, he makes no effort to stop him. It really does feel nice to be loved.
He’s not even that sick.
The porridge is eventually finished and Yoo Joonghyuk places the empty bowl back onto the bedside table, hovering over Kim Dokja a bit to grab something else.
Kim Dokja fidgets, hands suddenly restless, he clenches and unclenches the bed sheets.
Yoo Joonghyuk comes back with liquid medicine, and Kim Dokja must’ve made some sort of face because he then says, “don’t even try to avoid it.”
He whines. “I am not eating that.”
“You have no choice.”
“What,” he scoffs, “are you threatening me or something?”
Yoo Joonghyuk pours some of the medicine onto a spoon, and Kim Dokja can smell it. It’s awful, terrible, really.
He shoves the spoon closer to his mouth, which makes Kim Dokja turn his head away.
“Okay, no– stop.”
The spoon nudges his mouth.
“Stop! No, I don’t want to.”
“Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says exasperatedly, like he always does. “It literally lasts for a second–”
Kim Dokja covers his mouth with his hand, and tries to shove him away. “One second of pure agony!”
Yoo Joonghyuk just stares at him like he’s stupid.
“Time is precious y’know, Joonghyuk,” he starts rambling. “Every second counts, so I shouldn’t be spending it taking med–”
Once again, Yoo Joonghyuk shoves it into his mouth, and Kim Dokja swallows the medicine. He must think he is so funny.
“Did you really just do the same tactic twice?” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “You're starting to lose your touch, Joonghyuk.”
“You fell for it again, so it’s your fault,” and like he can’t keep his hands away from Kim Dokja or something, he cups his face with his hand and places a kiss between his brows, like it's some sort of apology. And maybe taking that medicine was worth it, if he’s getting kissed this gently. (It didn’t even taste that bad, but he won’t give Yoo Joonghyuk the satisfaction of knowing that.)
Another kiss on his temple. His thumb brushes over his cheek. “You spoke too much nonsense.”
Yoo Joonghyuk pulls back, “‘every second counts?’ You were the one wasting it by not taking the medicine.”
He places another kiss on his nose this time. His Joonghyuk must be really weird because snot was literally leaking out from his nose earlier this morning when he was sneezing.
“You really shouldn’t be kissing me like this. Who's going to be the one taking care of you when we are both sick, hmm?”
“I won’t get sick.”
“Ah, right of course,” and Kim Dokja smirks. “How could I forget? You’ve got that protagonist aura afterall. Things like sickness don’t reach you, huh.”
His Joonghyuk is really stupid, it’s making Kim Dokja look smart.
Yoo Joonghyuk moves to lay his head on top of Kim Dokja’s chest, his arms wrapping around his torso in a somewhat embrace. Kim Dokja can’t really breathe, but it’s okay, he can just breathe through his mouth.
He runs his fingers through Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair and plays with it lazily while his husband makes a low humming noise.
“I have to stream later.” Yoo Joonghyuk brings up.
“Okay?” He says very, extremely, nonchalantly, because whatever Joonghyuk does isn’t really his business.
He wraps his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulders to stop him from leaving.
“I can’t cancel,” Yoo Joonghyuk lifts his head from Kim Dokja’s chest to look at his eyes. “It’s promotional.”
“Mhm,” he hums, gripping onto Joonghyuk’s shoulders slightly tighter.
He shifts.
“You have to let go,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, but he is a hypocrite because he is also still clinging onto Kim Dokja too.
“I don’t know what you are talking about?” He starts to run his fingers up and down his husband's back, slow, smooth motions.
“You need to rest.”
“I’m literally resting right now,” Kim Dokja squints at Yoo Joonghyuk, stopping his movements. Yoo Joonghyuk just stares back, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.
He wriggles a bit in Kim Dokja’s arms, trying to escape.
“No, stop,” and Kim Dokja tugs his head back down so that it lies onto his chest again. Yoo Joonghyuk could leave if he tried hard enough, but he doesn’t, he just relents, a deep sigh releasing from his mouth in what is probably defeat.
Kim Dokja smirks in success, he wins.
Hah, Joonghyuk really is too easy, he thinks while he combs his fingers through his husband’s hair once again. It really is too soothing.
His eyes start to drift close, lulled by Yoo Joonghyuk’s breathing. It’s only then that he realizes that, fuck–
And okay, damn it, fine. Maybe Joonghyuk is smart, because he’s starting to feel sleepy. It’s all part of his damn plan to get Kim Dokja to rest.
Normally, Kim Dokja would try to resist this just to defy Yoo Joonghyuk’s plans, but he feels too comfortable, so he lets his eyes drift close, all while breathing through his mouth, because he still can’t breathe.
—
He wakes up with a dry throat and a desperate urge to cough.
Kim Dokja reaches to his bedside table to find a conveniently placed water bottle and chugs it down. It hurts to swallow the water down because of his sore throat, he winces slightly.
Some of the water spills down from his chin from his urgency. He doesn’t care.
He places the water back down, blinking his bleary eyes closed before he presses his palms to them.
He groans and then promptly sneezes. And sneezes. And sneezes again.
Fuck this, really.
After his sneezing fit, he decides to snuggle back into his blankets, trying to fall back asleep. But then his nose starts running. He sniffles, trying to breathe it back up; it doesn’t work.
He sits up properly, grabs a tissue, stuffs it up his nose, and just sits there disorientedly. Kim Dokja probably looks disgusting, snot running down his face, his forehead sweaty, and his eyes crusty, but he doesn’t care, he’s just annoyed that he can’t fall back asleep. He closes his eyes tightly.
With a groan that even he knows is too dramatic, he reaches for his phone and unplugs the charger.
The plan was to just scroll mindlessly on that same trashy webnovel he read earlier in the day, but he stops as he sees a notification from his Star Stream app that the Supreme King was streaming. A smile reaches his lips unknowingly; Yoo Joonghyuk is the best form of entertainment, afterall.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t often talk in his streams, much to Kim Dokja’s disappointment. It really is such a shame because his voice is nice, deep, smooth, low, and comforting. He likes his voice, maybe likes it a bit too much, actually.
Kim Dokja decides to grab his laptop to boot up the stream, to y’know, multitask… so he can scroll on his phone while watching the stream in the background, obviously.
Who the fuck is he kidding, he just wants to have a higher quality view of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. It’s mesmerizing, watching his face: the way his eyebrows further a little bit deeper when he is focused, the way his mouth downturns slightly when he finds an enemy to be challenging, the way you can see his shoulders unclench in relief when he gets the loot he’s been searching for.
Or maybe he’s just obsessed with everything about his husband.
Right now, he’s playing some sort of fantasy RPG game that Kim Dokja’s never seen before with Lee Jihye. They’re currently fighting some sort of squid-like boss.
And to Kim Dokja’s absolute delight, he finds Yoo Jooonghyuk actually speaking more than five words at a time, it’s probably because the game is sponsored. Kim Dokja lets out a light laugh, Yoo Joonghyuk’s words sound so forced, it’s funny, really. Like he said, Yoo Joonghyuk is prime entertainment.
Kim Dokja sniffles and then replaces the tissue in his nose, tossing the old one somewhere onto the floor.
Apparently they’ve been fighting this boss for quite some time, the squid having kept on regenerating after its health bar has been depleted. (He hears Jihye scream, “Again!?” in the background.)
Balancing the laptop on his legs, he goes on his phone to shoot Yoo Joonghyuk a text, suddenly giddy.
- I thought you were supposed to be a pro gamer.
Yoo Joonghyuk immediately stops playing to look at the texts, his game avatar getting attacked by some of the Squid’s henchmen. He can hear Jihye in the background, confused.
He shoots another text.
- Did you try attacking its legs all at once?
Quickly, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes flicker back up from his phone and glares at his camera with a deadpan look.
“You should be resting right now,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, because of course he would say that.
Kim Dokja snickers, having gotten his reaction. His Yoo Joonghyuk could be so cute sometimes.
Then, like nothing happened, Yoo Joonghyuk effortlessly goes back into the game, dodging successfully and saving himself from dying.
Which, damn it, it was cool of him. Kim Dokja should distract him.
“I’ve tried that already, it doesn’t work.”
Kim Dokja texts him again, telling him to try a different method. Yoo Joonghyuk tries it, and it doesn’t work.
He glares at his camera again, “are you trying to distract me?”
- Maybe, maybe not.
“Kim Dokja,” he says with a stern voice, but Kim Dokja can see the corners of his lips curl up slightly. He can’t help but huff out a laugh at that.
He feels a bit better, teasing his husband. His stomach flutters again.
Damn that stomach bug is back.
“Go to sleep, Dokja,” he says while dealing the finishing blow onto the squid. (“We did it! Oh my God,” Jihye says in the background.)
- I can’t, I need a goodnight kiss
He teases Yoo Joonghyuk, because he can. But what he doesn’t expect is for him to look down at his phone and immediately stand up. (“Master? Master!? WHERE DID YOU GO?!” is faintly heard in the background.)
Wait, he was joking. It was a joke.
Kim Dokja frantically goes to text this to him, but it’s too late; Yoo Joonghyuk opens the door to their bedroom and goes straight to the bed, menacing protagonist aura and all.
Kim Dokja raises both of his arms in mock defense.
“Wait, Joonghyuk, I was just joking,” he goes to sit up, before a strong hand gently places him back down again.
“You needed a kiss, so I’m giving you one.” Kim Dokja’s heartbeat speeds up and he squeezes his eyes tight as Yoo Joonghyuk crowds him on the bed and lifts the side of his face with his hand. His other hand brushes Kim Dokja’s bangs away before he places a kiss on his forehead.
He then keeps on getting gentle kisses pressed along his face and Kim Dokja can feel his face heat up.
He whines out a ‘Joonghyukkk’ and Yoo Joonghyuk pulls back, smirking like a proud fucking bastard.
He pulls the blankets over Kim Dokja properly, closes his laptop, and goes to plug in his phone to his charger. He gives one more kiss on his temple before he says, “now sleep.”
And then quieter, whispered on his forehead, “I won’t be done until a while.”
Yoo Joonghyuk turns off the light and leaves the room.
Kim Dokja sits there embarrassed. The tissue is still plugged up stupidly in his nose.
He brings his hands to his face, and just sits, trying to calm down his racing heart.
Then, out of defiance, he turns his phone back on and continues to watch Yoo Joonghyuk’s stream, no longer commenting. He presses one of his hands against his cheek; it still feels warm, and he doesn’t think it’s from sickness.
Kim Dokja quickly falls asleep, being lulled by the quiet clicks of a mouse, keyboard keys clacking, and Yoo Joonghyuk’s deep voice.