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Yoo Joonghyuk never really liked smoking.
Kim Dokja knows this well. It's why he begins to pick up the pattern of stepping outside into the cooling air of the evening to catch a quick smoke, just so Joonghyuk doesn't have to smell it. In the end, his efforts are rendered useless. Because every time he steps back into their living quarters, Joonghyuk is on top of him, asking him not to smoke. Or—not asking— but essentially scolding him. It makes him feel like a child, but he supposes he's not far from one, since he continues to petulantly ignore Joonghyuk's reprimands and smoke whenever he gets the chance.
He wants to feel bad, he really does. But he decides nothing beats the feeling of tension escaping your shoulders after a long day at work. Besides, he's sure he'll never be able to quit, so long as he works at Minosoft. The workers there have picked up a nasty habit of encouraging smoking and passing out goods like it's a fair. And while he knows he shouldn't, he still goes for it. He's the butt of many jokes, which revolve around him being the target audience of such propaganda.
It's not like it's really a big issue. He can quit when he wants. He just doesn't want to at the moment. Or atleast that's what he tells himself. At the very least, he doesn't buy in bulks like the rest of his irresponsible coworkers. Usually, he stops by a nearby convenience store and picks by cheapest. They taste like crap, and it makes his throat clamp with the cheap product. However, it's still the highlight of his day. It's something he's grown accustomed to after many years.
Well, one of the highlights of his day. There's something else important. Someone else. Yoo Joonghyuk. Nowadays, he never really gets the time to think about it. He's usually buried in work or hunched over the dinner table, reading novels, as Joonghyuk scolds him for bringing such posture to the table. But he knows deep down that he loves him. They met briefly while Minosoft was working with the company Joonghyuk was affiliated with. And from there, their relationship gradually grew until what it is now. Coming home after a dreadful day at work doesn't seem half bad when you're coming home to your (not so) lovely boyfriend.
He does everything for Dokja. He cooks, he cleans, he waters the plants, he takes care of him when he's ill, and always waits for him at home, ready for when the older comes stumbling through their door and past the pristine hallways to find Joonghyuk's arms and rest. And somehow, in between all of these things, Joonghyuk finds time to stream. It's something Dokja finds both irritating and endearing at the same time.
At first, he was sure Joonghyuk was a obnoxious, snooty bastard. Someone he'd never get along with. Of course, he knew who he was, even prior to meeting him. How could he not? After all, Joonghyuk was one of the most renowned streamers out there. And hearing about him hourly was definitely not strange in a work that dabbles in that industry. Matter of fact, he'd dropped into his streams a couple of times. It was never for long. It was only long enough to catch what game he was on and his expression, just to click out after a few seconds of staring at the man's silent, scowling face—who's focus was entirely on the game and nothing else. He couldn't understand the appeal back then. And he still doesn't. He knows too many people who will fall to their knees if only Yoo Joonghyuk asks it. And half the time, the bastard doesn't even speak during his streams!
However, to an extent, he could perhaps see other people's point of view on Joonghyuk. Although he barely speaks, (and when he does, he is a snobby brute) he is definitely good at what he does. Time after time, he proves just how much he excels in both gaming and streaming. It's impressive to say the least. He only needs to take a quick glance at the countless trophies displayed in their living room from e-sports events that Joonghyuk had won to prove how talented his boyfriend was. He wasn't even haughty about it. Joonghyuk was adamant on not presenting his trophies and stashing them in his room. It was Kim Dokja who forced him to present his trophies, while Joonghyuk reluctantly put them in place, scowling at the back of Dokja's head.
There have been too many instances to count where Kim Dokja, sober or not, will come barging in to Joonghyuk's room while he's streaming, interrupting his flow. Too many instances where it was too late to turn around and pretend like he hadn't come bursting through the door, looking like—in Joonghyuk's words—'a fool.' He resents Joonghyuk a little for it. Damn his beautiful face, and his unbothered mannerisms. Even when he knows Dokja's impeding in his work area and interrupting his streams, he still patiently handles him and goes back like nothing ever happened. And worst of all? His fans eat it up like they're starved. He's managed to earn the title of most infuriatingly unbothered streamer of the year. At least in Dokja's books.
He hates not being able to tell the whole world Joonghyuk is his. He knows he'd never really go through with it, even if he could. Going around screaming "Joonghyuk is my boyfriend! I love him!" was something he'd rather die than torture himself doing. But the idea that he's fully restricted from doing so makes him shudder with frustration. He's always hated being restricted, after all. Being ushered out of frame, and hearing Joonghyuk's strained voice telling his audience that Dokja was simply his roommate was unpleasant. By now, he's mostly gotten used to it. He doesn't exactly blame him. Fame comes with a lot of repercussions. However, on days like this, he feels like giving Joonghyuk a little payback. Even if it's something as small as smoking.
Dokja slips out onto the balcony, the freezing air of the coming winter hitting him harder than he'd like. Still, he presses forward, and has enough goodwill in his heart to shut the glass door behind him. Mainly because he'd rather not walk back into an icy house. But also because Joonghyuk was home. He's been sat at his setup for hours, and Dokja doesn't necessarily have the heart to tell him to get off and come spend some time with him. He knows he can. He knows Joonghyuk will immediately abandon his stream to be with him, so long as he asks. However, he feels cruel doing that. He insists on waiting it out, for the sake of Joonghyuk's career.
So he decides a quick smoke will help clear his mind. Even after stepping out into the chill, he's sure he's able to handle a little cold. He quickly finds out how wrong he is. In a matter of seconds, he's reduced to a shivering mess. But he wants a smoke so damn bad, it's killing him. So despite himself, his reddened fingers dig into his pockets and fish out a fresh, new pack of cigarettes he had bought that morning to try. It's a new brand. He's not quite sure how to feel about the literal fungal infection staring at him in the form of a cancer awareness ad on the outside of the packaging. To be honest, it's obnoxious, and puts him off smoking altogether. But he supposes that's the point of this kind of packaging and sucks it up.
His trembling digits scratch at the plastic package and it rips, enough for him to lift the box to his teeth and tear the rest of it away. Before he's able to catch it, the plastic flies away with the wind and he sighs.
"Ah... Shit."
He's not particularly fond of littering, but it's gone now. His thumb pushes the lid of the box up and reveals neat rows of 20 cigs lined up. The smell is as nice as it can get with tobacco, and the inside of the pack is relatively clean, devoid of any debris or cheaply manufactured cigarettes stuffed between the gaps. It's just a normal, fresh pack of cigs. He figures he must of won the smoking lottery. He's quite proud of himself for getting out of his comfort zone to ditch his regular pack.
He huffs out, watching as a fleeting, misty cloud of condensation escaped his lips and disappeared once more into the cold. He should get this over with quickly, he thinks. He wants to go back inside.
Two slender fingers reach into the pack and slip out a singular roll of tobacco. He slides the box into his pocket, and then rummages around for a lighter. It takes a minute of digging in each individual pocket of his before he finds an old one resting in the back pocket of his pants. He smiles in relief, and pulls it out. He inspects it for a second, trying to remember when he'd left it there. When he doesn't recall immediately, he decides it's ultimately not important. He fiddles with the spark wheel, and then pressed down, his fingers instinctively sparking the flame quickly.
He brings it to his cigarette and lights it. He watches the nub glow orange before bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag. There's no one to yell at him for taking obnoxious puffs, or complain about how he stinks. It feels like he's in heaven. Minus the part where he's freezing. Though, his few minutes of heaven are interrupted when he hears the glass door slide open. He doesn't even need to turn around to guess who it is.
"Kim Dokja." Joonghyuk's voice echoes behind him. He sounds angry, and Dokja desperately wants to grin. He hears the sound of the glass door slamming shut, and he feels eternally grateful and proud he didn't have to remind Joonghyuk to close it.
"Joonghyuk-ah." He snorts, flicking ash onto the railing. Suddenly, two arms are snaking their way onto his hip from behind. He pauses, mid lifting the cigarette to his lips, and glances behind him. Joonghyuk's pressing up against him, his arms finding their way to Dokja's waist and resting heavy, like they belong there. And maybe they do.
"You stink." Joonghyuk mutters into his hair. Dokja feels tempted to burn his skin with the cigarette but decides against it. Too cruel. Instead, his hand flies back to smack Joonghyuk on the forehead. Joonghyuk flinches hard and he can feel the way his mind stutters. Dramatically, the younger removes one hand from Dokja's waist to clutch at his head and glare at him.
"Don't look at me like that. You decided to come out here." Joonghyuk frowns at his words, and returns his hand to its spot on Dokja's waist.
"Why do you bother smoking? It's bad for you."
Listening to his words, Dokja decides to think. He knows why, but he wants to at least give a reasonable response. Mostly because Joonghyuk would raise hell if he told him he 'simply liked it.' But the more he thinks, the less he's able to formulate a well thought-out lie. Or half-truth. They're not all ridiculous, and he's sure Joonghyuk would actually accept them. If not accept them, he'd definitely keep his mouth shut. For example, Dokja thinks he could tell Joonghyuk he's addicted. Giving a falsified story about how he's been doing it for too many years—it doesn't seem too bad. Though, he decides against it. He doesn't like lying to Joonghyuk.
He sighs, weary from thinking. "Want to try?"
The answer comes immediately, like Joonghyuk was expecting it. "No." He says roughly.
Dokja laughs at him, amused. Sometimes, Joonghyuk can really be so childish. It's almost cute, if it weren't for the scowl permanently plastered on his handsome face.
"Why not?" He smiles, inhaling one last time before bringing the cigarette to Joonghyuk's lips. He watches his expression, the way the younger recoils in disgust, face scrunching in scrutiny. But he doesn't pull away from Dokja. Rather, he doesn't want to. He leans back, but his arms remain stuck on Dokja's waist, like they're stuck there with glue.
"Stop—"
"Come on, just once. Maybe you'll like it." He insists, shoving the cigarette closer. "Hurry. It'll go out quickly in this cold."
Yoo Joonghyuk seems to pause at that. He really hates it. Kim Dokja doesn't even need to ask. It's written all over his stubborn face. But beneath that was hesitation flickering in his eyes. Conflict. One that Joonghyuk would inevitably lose against Dokja.
So predictable, he muses.
The younger grimaces, staring at the butt. His shoulders slack, and he sighs heavily—like he hates the world, and hates Dokja for forcing him to smoke even though he despises it. But Dokja didn't exactly force him, so he doesn't feel too guilty about the scowl on Joonghyuk's face. Then, he leans forward and his lips touch the cig. He takes a large puff, and Dokja weakly laughs—because for someone who dislikes smoking so much, he sure doesn't pull back on his huge inhales. It's amusing, to say the least.
Before Kim Dokja can make fun of him, Joonghyuk splutters and stumbles back. In the process, the cigarette slips from Dokja's hand and onto the floor. But he's not too focused on the lost cig, more than he is Joonghyuk. He turns to face him completely, at a complete loss of what to do. He's coughing, borderline retching.
Dokja reaches out, a hand patting Joonghyuk's back and the other brushing his hair away from his eyes. "Easy, easy." He soothes, and Joonghyuk listens. His coughing fit finishes as quickly as it came, and he looks up at Dokja with tears in his eyes. The older has to repress his laughter at the sight of him. "You... Are you okay?" He coughs out, pursing his lips together tightly.
He has to give it to him, Joonghyuk is cute. His hand slips from his forehead down to his eyes and strokes underneath them. Really, he's at a complete loss. He had no idea Joonghyuk was so inexperienced. He imagined he would've been able to at least take a puff without nearly choking to death. But then again, he realises he also nearly died trying to inhale for the first time. He supposes he should've told him how to before shoving a smoke in his face.
Joonghyuk leans against the glass pane and frowns. Dokja can't help himself. He's picked up a bad trait from Sooyoung, which is immediately pointing out Joonghyuk's faults in an attempt to rile him up. He's trying not to, but the more he looks at the younger's tear-filled eyes, the more he feels the urge. Before he knows it, he blurts out, "are you crying?"
Yoo Joonghyuk immediately furrows his brows and his fist makes contact with Kim Dokja's jaw. Now, he really isn't able to hold it in. The older tilts his head back and glee leaks from his snickering. Joonghyuk silently broods, and Dokja's sure he's pouting. But for his own sake, he doesn't mention it. If he does, he's almost fully sure he'd get launched off the balcony.
"I'm not crying—" His voice sounds broken, cracking around the edges roughly. Dokja only laughs harder. Joonghyuk clears his throat aggressively. "It's a human response, you fool!"
Despite his cackling, Dokja's still listening to him. Though, Joonghyuk feels like he's not. However, the laughter dies down eventually, and the older cusps the younger's face with his cold hands, grinning. "I'm only teasing. Are you alright, Joonghyuk-ah?" The man in question does not respond, and opts to glower angrily at Kim Dokja—who seemingly doesn't understand the situation. "Embarassed?" He coos.
"Bastard." Joonghyuk grits out, pushing his hands away. Dokja innocently returns his hands back to where they just were, and before the younger can slap them away again, he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his nose. It definitely does the trick, because Joonghyuk freezes in place like he's been struck by lightning.
"Don't be upset. I know you weren't crying." He says smoothly. Joonghyuk can't help but wonder if he's being dense on purpose. He opens his mouth to snap at him again, but the words die on his tongue. With a resigned sigh, he leans into Dokja's touch.
"That's not what I'm—"
"Is it the smoking? I won't ask you to do it again." Dokja says quickly. Joonghyuk decides not to talk, telling himself he's not really upset about it. Because he's not. He's just slightly embarassed. And it appears that Dokja knows. He always does. He always knows everything about Joonghyuk and that fact irks him to no end.
It goes quiet for a while.
Dokja strokes Joonghyuk's face and hair absentmindedly, his lips pressing against his scalp. He smells so strongly of cigarettes, and it's making Joonghyuk dizzy. But despite everything, he doesn't hate the smell as much as he claims. In fact, there's something familiar about it. Something akin to home. It's something he could, scarily, get used to. It's comforting, he concludes. But it wouldn't be if it wasn't Kim Dokja.
"Let's go inside. It's cold out." Dokja's mellow voice cuts through the silence. Only then, does Joonghyuk realise the chill in the air. He glances at the other man's shaking form. From the way his nose leaks, and his fingertips are turning purple, he's sure Dokja's freezing.
He intertwines their fingers and turns to open the door and slips inside, with Dokja following along. He closes it, without letting go of the older's hand. His hands rest on the blinds, ready to pull them to settle into the evening. And then he pauses, glancing at the lone cigarette, laying uselessly on the concrete floor of the balcony. He huffs, and promptly pulls the blinds.
"Don't litter on the balcony, Kim Dokja."
"What?" Dokja looks at him, confused. He stares at Joonghyuk's face, and the man almost feels like forgetting about it. But, there are two things he hates most. Smoking and littering. It's obnoxious behaviour, and it's behaviour his own boyfriend exhibits in their house.
"Your cigarettes. Don't litter next time." He says firmly. Dokja entertains him, squeezing his hand. He chuckles and pulls Joonghyuk's arm to kiss his fingers.
Dokja's lips curve upwards, amused. "Alright."