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Kim Dokja’s eyes flutter open to complete darkness. There’s the disorienting feeling of waking upright on the unsupported balance of his own feet, as if he hadn’t been asleep at all.
A soft sound, and he winces at the blinding blue light that floods his vision.
[Hidden Scenario - Six Feet Above
Category: Hidden
Difficulty: F
Clear Conditions: Escape from the contained space within the given time limit.
Time limit: 30 minutes
Compensation: --
Failure: ??? ]
The scenario window is so close to his face that he goes cross-eyed trying to read it.
Kim Dokja tries to take a step back, only to shriek uncharacteristically when he feels a solid body pressing up against his backside.
“It’s me,” he hears a familiar voice say.
“Yoo Joonghyuk??”
Yoo Joonghyuk makes a disgruntled sound.
Kim Dokja instinctively shifts his weight away from his companion, pressing his hands and chest to the solid surface in front of him. It feels like heavy wood.
Yoo Joonghyuk is still so close that Kim Dokja can feel his body heat. “Can you—can you move?”
“My back is to a wall,” Yoo Joonghyuk grumbles. “The space is limited.”
Ah.
“We’re trapped,” Yoo Joonghyuk informs him with a condescending tone, like he was speaking to a slow child.
“I’m aware,” Kim Dokja snaps. He cranes his neck back to look at the other. It’s too dark to make out his face; all he can see is the hulking silhouette of the regressor looming over him.
They’re so close.
(This position is a little……isn’t it?)
Kim Dokja whips back around, taking a steadying breath and deciding to focus his mind elsewhere. They’re both still donned in their usual clothing, although devoid of their matching coats, which likely won’t change much given this limited area. Of course, their weapons no longer hang at their hip.
Hesitantly, he reaches up to trace his fingers along the edges of the enclosed walls, mentally mapping out the shape of whatever it is they’re contained in. He scratches lightly for any loosened edges to pry open, noting his sides’ to have crevices that seem to be locked by hinges—the lid, likely—but too tight for any real purchase.
He leans back to reach the further corners, muttering out a soft “excuse me” as he presses his back to Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest.
“What are you doing,” Yoo Joonghyuk says in a strangled voice.
“A coffin,” Kim Dokja murmurs thoughtfully. “We’re in an upright coffin, the old-school kind you see in vampire movies.”
“And this helps us how?”
“Will you just let me think?” A pause. “Yeah, no, I have no idea.”
Yoo Joonghyuk expels a sharp breath of air in his irritation, which hits the nape of Kim Dokja’s neck. Maybe it’s because of the darkness that he’s so hypersensitive to everything Yoo Joonghyuk does, but it’s so sudden that it makes him jump violently enough to make them both freeze.
He drowns out this moment by making a ruckus of his own.
“HEY!” Kim Dokja begins pounding on the lid with his fists, which seems to rattle the whole thing. “Hey, can anyone hear us?! There’s two of us stuck in this—mmgh!”
Kim Dokja sputters into Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand, which is suddenly clasped firmly over his mouth. He scrabbles blindly and yanks it from his lips.
“What the hell is wrong with you—”
“You fool,” Yoo Joonghyuk snarls with startling urgency. “Don’t you know what people would think if we were found like this?”
“That we’re stuck?? I don’t know, it’s not like you’ve ever cared what people think of you.” Kim Dokja inhales again, filling his lungs to shout. “HEY—”
Yoo Joonghyuk covers his mouth again, this time with his other hand squeezing his throat. Kim Dokja thrashes uselessly, before being abruptly released to hack and gasp for air.
“Let me do it,” says Yoo Joonghyuk, almost petulantly.
“Wh—” Kim Dokja cranes his neck to give his companion a bewildered look, before remembering there’s not much for either to see in this darkness. He spins back around with a huff. “Go ahead and break us out, then.”
Wordlessly, Yoo Joonghyuk braces his palms against the wood. Kim Dokja’s breath hitches as he’s caged between those larger arms.
“I’ll force it open,” says Yoo Joonghyuk.
Kim Dokja squeezes his eyes shut, thankful that his companion is in no position to see his expression. “Are—are you sure it’s so straightforward?” His voice comes out embarrassingly high.
He jolts when he feels Yoo Joonghyuk’s thigh sliding between his legs to dig a shoe against the plank in front of him. With a small gasp startled out of him, Kim Dokja tries to raise himself onto his tip-toes, his thighs quivering.
“Sorry,” Yoo Joonghyuk uncharacteristically mutters, the sound low and guttural and not helping with Kim Dokja’s frayed mind.
“Mn—just get on with it,” he barely manages, sucking in a breath as he feels muscles tightening against his arms. Stats or not, this body of his just isn’t fair.
He feels Yoo Joonghyuk grunting into his ear, a low, rumbling sound that sends shudders rippling through his body. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath, scared of what sound he might make if he doesn’t.
“Kim Dokja, I’m going to—” Yoo Joonghyuk cuts himself off with a strangled intake of air, like the words are lodged in his throat.
“Going to what?” he says, a little shakily.
The larger man goes silent for several seconds. Then; “Excuse me,” he mutters out.
Kim Dokja is so stunned by those simple words being uttered in protagonist’s voice that he fails to prepare himself for Yoo Joonghyuk bending his knee higher for better purchase—which unfortunately ends up hoisting Kim Dokja from between his legs until the tips of his shoes are barely scraping the ground.
“—?!”
Kim Dokja’s legs instinctively turn inward, choking out an unintelligible squeak at the spark of honey-sweetness pooling in his body from where Yoo Joonghyuk’s thigh presses into his sensitive place.
“Bear with it,” Yoo Joonghyuk grits out. If they were in any other situation, Kim Dokja might’ve been a little touched that his protagonist isn’t as brazen as he’d thought him to be. For now, all he can concentrate on is not thinking about that damn leg between his own and how much his toes ache from standing on them. His thighs quiver from the strain.
It ends with a huff of frustration, and Yoo Joonghyuk finally leans back to give him space. Kim Dokja just barely manages to stop himself from buckling when the pressure ceases suddenly, pressing his chest and sweaty palms against the lid.
“You bastard,” Kim Dokja hisses weakly, dropping his head forward against the surface. “At least give me a warning.”
“I did,” says Yoo Joonghyuk, but he at least has the conscience to sound a little less confident in saying it.
“Use your words!” His voice comes out embarrassingly high. “This kind of thing is—is—”
The larger man says nothing, which flusters him further. Why is it that this bastard insists on going silent at the worst moments? He changes the subject hastily, diverting his attention back to the predicament at hand. “It’s nothing. Let’s both try pushing at the same time.”
He hears Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath stutter faintly, and rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sturdy enough to handle it.”
Kim Dokja braces his palms against the wood, just below Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands. He has to lean back a bit in adjustment, pressing his back flush against his companion’s front, and desperately tries not to think about the contours of defined muscle he can feel against his back in startling clarity. If only he still had his coat.
For a bit more strength, he arches his back, digging his shoulders back into Yoo Joonghyuk to add force to the arms pushing forward. He does the same with his legs, hips jutting back.
Yoo Joonghyuk chokes out a stilted, oddly strangled “Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja doesn’t listen, of course.
“Kim Dokja.”
He only releases the tension abruptly once he realizes the other’s stopped first, panting faintly as he lets himself lean back tiredly against his companion. “What?” he huffs.
“...” Yoo Joonghyuk is entirely rigid and unmoving.
“What?” says Kim Dokja again, a little more impatiently.
Then, he feels it.
Something hard, rigid, hot even through their layers of clothing, resting snugly between where the small of his back just begins to split into two cheeks, the length of the underside lodged slightly between them.
Kim Dokja’s face heats violently in the time it takes for the feeling to register.
“Not a word,” Yoo Joonghyuk hisses, muted slightly with shame.
“Not a word,” Kim Dokja squeaks out all too hastily.
There’s a long, agonizing stretch of silence of Kim Dokja pressing himself as far forward as he can and Yoo Joonghyuk pressing himself flat against the back. Even so, with every little shift (which he can’t help but do often), Kim Dokja can feel the tip dragging lightly against the curve of his butt.
Is the space that small, or is Yoo Joonghyuk really that big??
Kim Dokja feels a little lightheaded. Faintly, he wonders if they’re losing oxygen.
He just focuses on angling his hips as far away as he can, shivering every time he feels the erection brushing and prodding against his rear, the two flinching in tandem.
“I don’t suppose you have any other ideas?” Kim Dokja mumbles after the silence begins driving him insane.
“...That’s supposed to be your job.”
This makes him flare a little, which he plays off with a forced laugh. “If you really are clueless, you can just say so, you know.”
He can hear Yoo Joonghyuk opening his mouth to say something, but it’s cut off by a blue panel that pops up between them.
[Time limit reached!]
Kim Dokja has to peer behind him to see it. The glow lights up the contours of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, which is unreadable as it squints down at the words.
“Ah…we still don’t know what the penalty is, huh,” says Kim Dokja with a wince, turning back around before Yoo Joonghyuk can look up. “Since the difficulty’s so low, maybe we were just supposed to wait out the—”
“Kim—”
They’re both cut off so suddenly that it takes him a moment longer to begin panicking.
It’s like all the oxygen was abruptly sucked from that confined space. With a wordless cry, Kim Dokja hunches over and clutches at his throat, chest heaving uselessly as he stumbles back against Yoo Joonghyuk.
Calloused fingers grab his chin and yanks it back so quickly that for a split second he fears his neck is being snapped.
Then Yoo Joonghyuk kisses him.
Kim Dokja makes this frantic, muffled sound, eyes snapping wide as he stares up at Yoo Joonghyuk’s furrowed brow and lowered lashes, so close to his own. Then he feels his throat filling with air, along with the audible sound of Yoo Joonghyuk exhaling forcefully. It’s the weirdest feeling, having air forced into your lungs, but he’s so dizzy with lack of oxygen that he’s sucking it in without questioning it.
After a moment of holding his breath in bewilderment, he shakily exhales in the same manner. Like this, they establish a careful rhythm, buying themselves a little more time. Kim Dokja’s lips are wet and trembling against Yoo Joonghyuk’s.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands settle on his waist, likely meant to be steadying, but it startles him so badly that his chest hitches and their rhythm falls apart. Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands fly back like they were burned, then come to rest firmly on his shoulders. With some difficulty and glaring at each other, they settle back into their rhythm.
Without pure oxygen, they both need to move fast. Kim Dokja feels himself being maneuvered to twist around. He understands quickly enough, but there’s barely enough space for it.
He clumsily lifts a leg to swing it around, and Yoo Joonghyuk grabs his calf to help press it back, near folding him in half. It leaves tears in his eyes with the burning stretch, breath going briefly ragged. With his knee still pressed between their chests, Yoo Joonghyuk reaches up to hold Kim Dokja’s face in what must be a calming manner, palms against his jaw and fingers resting behind his ears.
It’s far too intimate of a situation and it’s a miracle that Kim Dokja doesn’t pass out right then and there. Those hands seem to encompass more of him than it’s touching, surprisingly grounding, just enough for Kim Dokja to wrangle himself back together and slip his leg free to the other side.
It’s strange, how easily they manage to understand each other, in this near-blackness broken only by their clumsy movements and careful breathing. Yoo Joonghyuk places his hands flat on either side of Kim Dokja’s head, and Kim Dokja does the same for Yoo Joonghyuk.
Inhale. One.
Exhale. Two.
Inhale. Three.
They shove at opposite sides with all their strength.
Kim Dokja feels himself falling backwards before his eyes register the glaring brightness. It’s an awful disorientation that has him reflexively clinging to Yoo Joonghyuk, hands scrabbling at his broad back and legs locked around his waist.
His back hits the grass with a soft ough, all the air once again crushed out of him when Yoo Joonghyuk’s obnoxiously heavy body lands on top of him, though the regressor has enough sense to soften the landing with his thrown-out hands.
Kim Dokja makes a defeated whine of protest at the weight, slow to unravel as his legs drop to the grass but his nails continue to dig into the fabric of Yoo Joongyhyuk’s back, neither of them moving for what feels like a long moment, holding each other limply as they desperately suck in fresh air.
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is doubting her eyes.]
Oh. Oh, no.
Yoo Joonghyuk shoots to his feet, faster than he’s ever seen him move, but the damage has long been done.
[The constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is smiling knowingly.]
“Wait,” says Kim Dokja weakly, clambering to his feet. He’s just managed to make it off the grass when his legs give out, pulling a small sound of surprise from Kim Dokja.
Yoo Joonghyuk reflexively reaches out to grab his arm, steadying him. Kim Dokja can’t look his companion in the eye, gaze trained on his own legs.
Shit. Why does he feel so weak? It must be from the lack of oxygen.
[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’s eyes are glinting dangerously.]
[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is inching away from constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’.]
[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ demands to know what happened.]
As if things weren’t bad enough, they’re both shown a live broadcast of themselves— and only then does Kim Dokja understand the gravity of the situation.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s raging hard-on is just there for the world to see, a ridiculously evident tent that doesn’t seem to have shrunk the slightest bit. He’s frazzled, breathing heavily.
As for Kim Dokja—it takes him far too long to register that it’s him, even though he’s literally the only other person in this clearing—as for him, his face is flushed far more than Yoo Joonghyuk’s, lips pink and wet with a line of drool threatening to slide down his chin, a faint ring of bruising around his neck from when Yoo Joonghyuk had choked him. Eyes shining with unshed tears, and legs trembling far more prominently than he’d hoped.
Suddenly, Kim Dokja wants to die.
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is screaming hysterically.]
[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ demands to know what happened.]
[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ demands to know what happened.]
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is on the verge of unconsciousness.]
[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ wonders if constellation ‘Demon King of Salvation’ was taking Incarnation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’s Black Flame Dragon.]
“Oh my god,” Kim Dokja sputters out, swaying slightly. “What—you—what—”
As soon as the words register, Yoo Joonghyuk yanks Kim Dokja violently, picking a random direction and dragging him along.
“Joonghyuk-ah—ow, wait!” He’s never given the chance to regain his footing, stumbling helplessly after his companion who has him in a vice grip.
“They’re too noisy,” Yoo Joonghyuk growls without looking back.
Kim Dokja opens his mouth to retort something, but the words die out before they reach his lips.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s ears are bright, bright pink. He holds Kim Dokja’s wrist as he drags him along, a bit like the way he’d sometimes drag his sword against the ground, a habit reserved only for certain special situations.
Kim Dokja stares after him dazedly, surrounded by the unending barrage of the constellations’ messages.