Chapter Text
“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the other man. “What is this.”
“What? Not enough for your royal highness?”
Yoo Joonghyuk had forgotten how annoying Kim Dokja was.
The apartment was modestly decorated, but spacious and suspiciously well-cleaned and stocked. For all of Kim Dokja's preaching about not being able to pay rent on time, being a regular depressed office worker, slave to the capitalistic society, etc., etc., and therefore needing a roommate, Yoo Joonghyuk had expected a regular 800-square-foot apartment, not something that looked like it came straight out of a K-drama CEO's vacation penthouse.
“...How much did you say the rent was?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, but he didn’t think the suggested amount could cover even a quarter of the apartment's actual rent.
Kim Dokja just laughed and showed him to the kitchen, which effectively distracted his mind from his disintegrating bank account.
“Don’t worry about that. Since I already paid the deposit, it’s only around...eight hundred? After you get back on your feet, of course.” Kim Dokja smiled.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes drifted between the squid-man in front of him and the fancy decorative knives on the wall. …Is he scamming me?
University Yoo Joonghyuk probably would’ve caught the scammer by the throat, or at least threatened him enough for Kim Dokja to take back whatever pity he had for him. Alas, this Yoo Joonghyuk was not the Young, Cool Yoo Joonghyuk. This Yoo Joonghyuk was Pathetic and Broke Yoo Joonghyuk (Who Got Disowned and is Therefore Not A Nepo Baby) anymore.
Pathetic and Broke Yoo Joonghyuk simply nodded in resignation. This seemed to make The Cooler Kim Dokja happy.
“Silent and emo as ever, I see.” Before Yoo Joonghyuk could turn his glare onto him, he scurried away. “Oi, as long as you can cook just as well as you did back in uni…I’ll completely waive your half of the rent!”
“I’m not your housewife, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. Remembering his surroundings, he tacked on, “...I can cook for us.”
“Great! Now let me give you a tour…”
Yoo Joonghyuk met Kim Dokja when he was 19 and in his second year of university. His parents were rich; he was doing business for his undergraduate studies at a prestigious school, primed to take over after his father, with his whole life set out for him on a diamond path. And currently, best of all, was his solo dorm room.
So why was there a homeless man in here?
Yoo Joonghyuk cautiously raised his chair in self-defence.
“You. Who are you.”
The other man sighed. Yoo Joonghyuk could see the wheels turning in his head.
With one hand slowly dialling the police, Yoo Joonghyuk lifted his chair higher– “Do you not read your emails? Put the chair down. I’m your new roommate.”
“I live by myself.” Who did this man think he was?
The possibly homeless man pulled out his phone and showed him the evidence. “I’m Kim Dokja, Business Department.”
There was a knock on the already ajar door. An older man’s face peeked in, “Bed for Kim Dokja?”
Kim Dokja spared him a glance and went to help the man.
He was just an ordinary, plain-looking man. Yoo Joonghyuk thought. My parents couldn’t have sent him, right?
Kim Dokja’s plainness did not soothe his suspicions. After a while, Kim Dokja finally looked over at him.
“Kim Dokja. Stay in your area.”
He stared into Kim Dokja’s blank eyes, full of resignation.
Yoo Joonghyuk did not like Kim Dokja.
After weeks of forced encounters, the two had settled into a semblance of a truce. Yoo Joonghyuk’s only link to survival was that Kim Dokja was honestly not a bad roommate at all. He stayed quiet, his phone screen lighting up his face even in the dead of the night. He was so quiet that Yoo Joonghyuk sometimes wondered if he was alive at all.
He only learned what Kim Dokja was truly like, a good two months into their slowly forming, begrudging relationship.
It was when he brought two (one and a half?) other people home at 4-fucking-AM.
Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door to Kim Dokja and a short-haired woman, who was holding up a drunk, white-haired man. “Kim Dokja, what the fuck. Do you even know what time it is? I’m not letting you bring in–”
“Wow, he really is like that char–”
“Shut up, Sooyoung.” Kim Dokja took a deep breath. “Joonghyuk…”
What the fuck.
“Kim Dokja, is that blood.”
“Car keys, please, we need to get him to the hospital.” Kim Dokja strained underneath the weight of the groaning man. Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed it before; the blood was dripping everywhere, mixing with the rain and getting all over his carpet.
What in the everloving fuckery–
Yoo Joonghyuk found himself hurriedly driving to the ER with a smiling Kim Dokja in his passenger seat, a foul and short woman, presumably Kim Dokja’s friend (if he had those…), trying to staunch some bleeding, and a dying body in his backseat, on a calm Wednesday night. Or, Thursday morning? It was nearly 5. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed.
“Do you care to inform me about why I have a dead body in the back of my car?”
“First off, he's not dead.” Yet. “Second, no.”
“...Kim Dokja, I'm going to kill you.”
“The rat bastard over there stabbed him in the bar when he insulted his favourite character,” the woman in the back called happily.
Yoo Joonghyuk swerved in surprise, “You stabbed him?” What has he gotten himself into? A murder conspiracy? He tried to catch his breath.
“Listen, it’s not what it looks like–” Kim Dokja smiled that off-smile of his and put his arms up in a mockery of guilt.
“Is that why you’re smiling like a deranged man?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, suddenly worried for his safety. He wouldn’t stab the driver, right?
Kim Dokja seemed to have read his thoughts and laughed, “Joonghyuk, don't think too much. I don't think your brain can handle it.”
“Me? You're calling me stupid? Who was the one who apparently stabbed someone in a bar, and your first thought was to trouble me with it?!”
“Not all of us can be rich bastards like you! You’re the only one with a car!” Kim Dokja looked back worriedly.
“Great point! Why didn't you call the fucking ambulance?”
“It's like a gazillion dollars! Why didn't you-” Kim Dokja gripped the handle of the car tightly as the car took a sharp turn and yelled, “You sunfish, you're gonna get into a traffic accident with a dead body in the back!”
“Well, I don't want the guy actually to die, now do I? Unlike you, who stabbed him–”
Kim Dokja rolled his eyes. “Great, the only time my robot of a roommate opens his mouth is over a tiny little stabbing.”
Yoo Joonghyuk's hands gripped the wheel in restraint, trying his best to remember his priorities: a clean criminal record before graduating. Murder is illegal, and there's already a body in the backseat.
Note: the poor guy was still alive.
“...if you two are done flirting-” the woman turned a few shades paler, “I think he might be dead.” Oh, well, okay then.
“Oh, really?” Kim Dokja looked over at the body disinterestedly. “Are you sure?”
These people are all psychopaths. Yoo Joonghyuk thought incredulously.
“And who the fuck even are you?”
“That's Han Sooyoung. But that's not important.” Kim Dokja looked back at him, his eyes crinkling as his lips pulled up into a sweet smile, “Joonghyuk, you should probably drive faster.” This conniving bastard–
The actual hospital arrival was less anxiety-inducing and more awkward, with the two of them stumbling over an excuse in order not to say anything incriminating–
(“Everything can, and will, be used against you, Joonghyuk-ah!”
“...I’m not part of this.”
“You’re the driver!”
“...”)
–and the only person who actually seemed to care about the guy was surprisingly Yoo Joonghyuk, who stood behind them like some sort of scary mother hen with an unrelenting glare in his eyes.
The guy was a freshman named Kim Namwoon, whom Kim Dokja had accidentally (?) stabbed with a broken glass bottle. Kim Namwoon is alive, Yoo Joonghyuk quietly paid his hospital fees, and to this day, he does not remember a thing. Praise the alcohol in his veins because otherwise, Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t know what he would’ve done.
But, he remembers. He's not sure whether it was a form of Stockholm Syndrome or trauma bonding, but the three somehow always ended up together. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not.
There were two children in Kim Dokja’s apartment. There was also a short, familiar-looking woman who seemed to be juggling the knives for the children’s amusement. Yoo Joonghyuk debated going back to bed.
“...Shin Sooyeon?”
The woman levelled a glare at him, “Han Sooyoung, you bastard. It hasn’t even been long enough for you to forget!--”
“You still stay by his side like a leech?” Yoo Joonghyuk was unafraid of the knives in her hands. She was small. He could take her.
“Unlike you, who abandoned him the first chance he got?” she sneered, “I still don’t know why he would let such an ungrateful asshole back into his life.”
The children’s eyes were wide in excitement, “Fight him, ahjumma!” They looked up eagerly at her. “He doesn’t have a weapon!”
Han Sooyoung sighed, “Seriously, where did he find you guys?” She glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, “All for a pretty face, haa…”
The she-devil threw her hands up and grabbed her keys, “Whatever, I’m not dealing with this bullshit.”
“Noona…” the little boy looked at her with pleading eyes, “Don’t leave us here…with him.”
Just what type of children did Kim Dokja find over the years? Yoo Joonghyuk looked down at the boy in offence. Wait–did he adopt them? Do I have to be nice? Fuck.
“Don’t worry, your ahjussi will be here soon.” Han Sooyoung messed with his hair, “That guy over there may look scary, but he’s just so sweet and kind on the inside!” She grinned and pranced out the door.
Yoo Joonghyuk turned around to see the children staring into his eyes soullessly.
Maybe they’re his biological children. I definitely see the resemblance. He thought wryly.
“You sooty bastard,” the little boy started, an emotion Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t place curling beneath his eyes, “You don’t deserve Dokja ahjussi.”
The little boy glared defiantly up at him. From his dark brown hair and eyes, Yoo Joonghyuk could see no trace of him being Kim Dokja’s son, other than the obvious disrespect in his tone. He glanced at the other child, a small blonde girl who was looking at him with a weird mixture of hope and aversion in her eyes.
Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. He had to be the adult in this situation. “I’m only staying with Kim Dokja temporarily.” He looked at their scowling faces, “Where is he?”
“He isn’t here yet,” the girl smiled, “but he will soon!”
Her smile turned a bit scarier– No, what? She’s a child– “I really hope that you can tell the two of us how you and ahjussi…got involved!” Yoo Joonghyuk was surprised by the amount of malice in her words. He really should call Kim Dokja and ask him what he’s supposed to do with two scary children.
He looked back down at them with a pensive look on his face, opened his mouth, and quickly strode away and back into his room.
They were clearly acquainted with this house; it should be okay to leave them alone, right? Yoo Joonghyuk opened his laptop and sent a quick message to Kim Dokja. Besides, what she asked is a bit…
Yoo Joonghyuk had noticed him first. He noticed the little changes in his appearance: a small scar on his right cheekbone, the slight curl to his hair…but also the light in his eyes, his healthy, flushed skin, and the curve to his lips.
Yoo Joonghyuk wondered what had happened to him.
He looked down at his reflection on the barista’s counter and wondered how someone so high up could fall so easily. The higher you climb, the farther you fall. Yoo Joonghyuk thought, It’s no wonder everyone around me wanted to get rid of me. And one of those people was right there, behind him. Kim Dokja looked unsuspicious and had his head in his phone. Some things don’t change.
“Uhh…excuse me?”
Ah, right, the barista’s counter. Yoo Joonghyuk looked up, pretending to have looked at the selection before him, “One iced coffee, please.”
Yoo Joonghyuk took out his card and…Fuck. He glared down at the register as if it had murdered everything he cared about. The barista backed away a bit nervously, “...sir? Do you want to try again?” Fuck. In front of him, too.
Just as his ears were threatening to self-combust from the amount of blood rushing to them in embarrassment, Kim Dokja pulled out his card and flashed a smile, “Hi, I can pay for his drink as well!” He looked at him with that half-not-smile, “Long time no see.”