Work Text:
“Seriously, I can’t do this anymore, Yoo Joonghyuk!”
“If you just–” Kim Dokja waves his arms around in the air, as if that action will demonstrate what he is thinking. “--I don’t know, learn to use less stuff while cooking, we wouldn't be having this argument in the first place!”
Yoo Joonghyuk just scowls at him and crosses his arms, like a child.
“It’s essential.” Cold, harsh.
Kim Dokja slams both his hands on the dining table and stands up in the process. He leans his head closer to where Yoo Joonghyuk is sitting across from him and wears a matching scowl, though not as deadly as the man in front of him. “No it is not!”
“It enhances the flavor of the food.”
“You literally do not need to use seven different fucking pots and pans to cook– well anything!”
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t say anything, just glares at him like he’s stupid or something. Kim Dokja is not going to put up with that bullshit.
Kim Dokja pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers before he points an accusatory finger towards Yoo Joonghyuk. “Do you understand just how many dishes I have to wash each night because of your inefficient ways of cooking?!”
He points his hand to the sink that currently inhabits not a single pot or dish, “like seriously?”
“Would you rather starve?”
Starve? Starve!? The fucking audacity.
“My cooking isn’t even that bad!”
Yoo Joonghyuk furrows his brows at him. “Are you hearing yourself? You can’t even cook to save your life.”
Kim Dokja’s eye twitches just slightly.
“Wrong. I can fry an egg,” he smirks up at him.
Yoo Joonghyuk scowls further. Kim Dokja can see his vein pop up on his face, which is a good sign that he’s either winning this argument or Yoo Joonghyuk just thinks he’s fucking stupid. Kim Dokja will assume that it’s the former.
“Barely.”
Kim Dokja slams his hands on the table again, testing how loud of a sound he can make, “this calls for a divorce. I have the papers right here," he pretends to slide Yoo Joonghyuk a sheet of paper. Yoo Joonghyuk grabs the nonexistent paper and reads over it. “I’m divorcing you, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
“No.”
Not part of the script. Kim Dokja slides back in his chair and tries to kick at Yoo Joonghyuk’s feet.
Instead, Kim Dokja feels a sharp kick from underneath the table, aiming at his ankles from the man in front of him.
“Ow ow ow, ouch! Ow my leg!” Kim Dokja fakes while bringing his leg closer to him to fake nurse his leg.
With his most hurt face possible, Kim Dokja says, “What about the kids! Think about the kids, Yoo Joonghyuk; think about how they would feel if you divorced me!”
They don’t have any kids.
“Aren’t you the one who suggested divorce in the first place?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks before grabbing the mug on the table and taking a fake sip.
“You’re clearly not thinking this through Yoo Joonghyuk.”
“Of course I am, I’m taking custody of Biyoo.”
“No, you are not, I’m Biyoo’s favorite, obviously.” And Biyoo is very important—their very important imaginary pet cat, that apparently Yoo Joonghyuk wants to hold custody of.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“No, you are not saying ‘no’ and that’s final.”
“I’m canceling this divorce.” Yoo Joonghyuk grabs fake divorce papers from the table and rips them apart before tossing the shreds behind him.
“Excuse me?” Kim Dokja makes a bewildered face and puts a hand to his chest as if he were left in aghast. “I spent a long time getting those, just so you know.”
Yoo Joonghyuk folds his arms over his chest and scowls again. “Instead of trying to divorce me you could’ve been washing the dishes in the sink.”
Kim Dokja groans, “Not the damn dishes again! Yoo Joonghyuk I told you, if you just—”
“Excuse me,” a girl wearing a yellow apron that holds a pin that says IKEA in the corner coughs, interrupting Kim Dokja’s and Yoo Joonghyuk’s very real argument. “Are you interested in this display?”
Kim Dokja turns and looks back at Yoo Joonghyuk, at which the man just tilts his head at him, as if saying, your choice. Then, Kim Dokja taps his fingers along the edge of the dining table and looks around the room. The vibes were nice, but he thinks that this display isn’t exactly what he’s looking for for their new apartment.
Then he looks back at the girl who is profusely sweating. “No, I think we’ll keep looking.”
The girl gives a sigh of relief and hastily makes her way to another customer looking at a different display.
Still sitting in the IKEA display, Kim Dokja looks back at his husband.
“Joonghyuk-ah, it’s a little too cramped. I like the other display better, it’s more spacious.”
“Yeah?” fuck it’s hot when Yoo Joonghyuk says that. It’s just one word, but it’s really doing something to Kim Dokja right now.
“Yeah, so you can cook, you know?”
“With my mass amount of pots and utensils that I apparently use?” Yoo Joonghyuk says with the barest hints of a smile.
Kim Dokja laughs at that, “exactly.”
Yoo Joonghyuk makes to get out of the chair and Kim Dokja is quick to follow him, but not before he makes sure to grab the IKEA shark that he placed beside the table—a poor witness to their almost-divorce.
The IKEA shark reminded him of the stupid bastard himself: Yoo Joonghyuk, which essentially means that the shark just looked like a sunfish.
(“It does not look like a sunfish.”
“Okay but, Joonghyuk-ie, you have to use your imagination a little bit. If you squint and try to imagine it a little more elongated–”
“It does not look like a sunfish.”
“I said if you squint you can see it looking like a sunfish.”
“It’s a shark.”
“Are you squinting?”
“I am.”
“Hm… maybe we need to get your eyes checked. It must be from looking at a screen for too long, tsk tsk.”
“We might need to get your eyes checked too.”)
Sunfish, shark, really what is the difference.
“Let’s check out another display.” Yoo Joonghyuk says as he offers a hand for Kim Dokja to hold, in which Kim Dokja shifts his hold of their IKEA shark to instead clutch it with his other arm so that he’s able to hold Yoo Joonghyuk’s own hand.
They’re about to head into another kitchen display before Kim Dokja feels a tug on his hand. He looks up and sees Yoo Joonghyuk staring at a different type of display.They walk over to what looks like a gaming setup with its flashy lights and dark color scheme.
Reaching over to check the keyboard, Yoo Joonghyuk clicks the spacebar a couple of times, testing the sound it makes.
“Not clicky enough.”
Yoo Joonghyuk then checks out the gaming chair, spinning in it a bit and then leaning back a bit. It’s a wild Yoo Joonghyuk in his natural habitat Kim Dokja thinks to himself.
“Comfy?” Kim Dokja asks, leaning on the table where the keyboard sits.
Yoo Joonghyuk lets out a hum before pressing his hand into the cushion below him, testing it out.
“Yeah.”
“Okay let’s get that too then.”
BONUS:
Yoo Joonghyuk wakes up in the middle of night. He moves his arm to hang over to the side where Kim Dokja sleeps, but instead of the usual feeling of warmth and comfort that his husband brings him, Yoo Joonghyuk feels something else that is evidently not his husband.
Furrowing his brows together, Yoo Joonghyuk tries to feel around for him. “Kim Dokja?” he sleepily asks into the open night air. There is no response.
“Kim Dokja?” he asks again, voice a bit more clear. When he doesn’t get a reply back, he sits up, their blankets pooling around his hips, before he blearily opens his eyes. He blinks a few times, trying to get adjusted to the dark.
Yoo Joonghyuk feels around for his husband once more in the dark. His hand touches something unfamiliar; something plush and soft. When Yoo Joonghyuk goes to inspect whatever the hell he just touched, he realizes what it is.
Yoo Joonghyuk glares at it.
The IKEA shark just stares back at him. Its eyes are innocent, its face stupid as it stares. Yoo Joonghyuk thinks he looks nothing like it.
Suddenly, it shifts a bit and there Yoo Joonghyuk can see Kim Dokja with his face nuzzling into the shark plush as he hugs it closer to his chest. Kim Dokja snores peacefully away as the shark looks at him.
It’s mocking him.
Like anyone would’ve done, Yoo Joonghyuk slips the IKEA shark out of Kim Dokja’s grip and tosses it onto the floor. Then, Yoo Joonghyuk slots himself in front of Kim Dokja and wraps his arms around him in an effort to bring him closer. Kim Dokja sleepily nuzzles his head into Yoo Joonghyuk and makes a nonsensical sleepy mumble of words.
Yoo Joonghyuk glares at the shark that is now sitting upside down on their bedroom floor, all alone.