Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

If Kim Dokja has to sit through another PTO meeting he will actually Lose It.

This is the third time this month Gilyoung and Yoosung’s class had called for a Parent-Teacher Organization meeting, this time to discuss whether or not the student’s desks should be placed in tables to support collaborative learning or individually to strengthen personalized instruction. 

If Dokja could offer his two cents on the matter without one of the moms glaring at him as if she were personally offended by his unmarried status, he’d tell them all to grow up and get a life. 

The parents here were hypercompetitive, always trying to plot success for their kids by taking down others. Dokja had been shocked when he’d first seen one mom deliberately drop a tray of another mom’s cookies and present “her daughter’s” as a backup.

Regardless of all the drama, Eunseoung was some of the best education for a reason. Gilyoung and Yoosung were smart, wonderful, and kind children– even if they fought like cats and dogs. (Or as Gilyoung liked to say: hornets and honeybees.)

“Okay,” one mom said, standing up, “If we’ve all spoken our concerns, let’s hold a vote?” Dokja groaned internally. The kids were waiting alone at home, either peacefully doing homework, snacking on Choco Pies before dinner, or fighting to the death.

He put his head down in compliance, raising his hand when she called for group tables. Personally, he would have hated sitting in groups, but Yoosung and Gilyoung were practically nothing like him. They were fun, had plenty of friends, and were full of chatter.

“Alright, group it is!” Dokja stood up as the meeting concluded, dusting off his work clothes. He’d just started to loosen his tie as his phone buzzed with a text from one of the nicer parents reminding him about the meeting. He trusted the kids on their own, but you could also never be too careful. 

“As per our email, I’ll see you next week, Kim Dokja-ssi.” Their teacher said as Dokja walked past the refreshments table to head out. He blanked. What was next week? Were the kids doing fine? Was anyone being mean? 

His sudden confusion and worry must have been evident because the teacher quickly waved her hands and laughed. “It’s just for the upcoming sleepaway field trip for some of our advanced students. Don’t worry!” She paused and looked away. “It must be overwhelming being a single caretaker with two kids that aren’t even yours.”

Dokja reeled. “Excuse me?” He asked, a disbelieving smile on his face. He’d known Gilyoung since he was four and adopted him at six. He’d only known Yoosung for a week until she was basically living with them. Those were his kids.

The teacher stuttered awkwardly. “Not like that…” She trailed off uncomfortably. Dokja sighed. Now wasn’t the time to argue with the teacher every other parent was kissing ass to, and he was sure by this point the kids were fighting over some childish argument. 

“I’ll see you next week. Good night.” He said coldly, walking out the door. Thankfully, his car was near the front of the parking lot. October air meant a slight breeze in the night, but Dokja got cold really quickly. He wrapped his arms around himself as he walked to the car. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he dialed the house phone to make sure everything was ok at home as he drove.

The phone rang thrice before it was picked up, Gilyoung panting and muffled shouts behind him. “Hyung! Yoosung called my cockroach ugly and told me she would feed it to the ducks at Hangang!” A shout, a muffled thud, and he heard Yoosung’s voice now.

“Ahjussi! I was OBVIOUSLY joking! Gilyoung said he would take my hamster at night and let him outside! You HAVE to keep Bomi with you tonight and guard her.” She said frantically.

“Yoosung-ah. Relax. No one’s pet is being eaten or released tonight.” Both kids quieted down after Dokja started talking exasperatedly, his phone tucked in the crook of his shoulder as he took a right turn into their neighborhood complex. “I’m almost home, so please start setting the table, ok?”

“Okay Ahjussi! I will do it.” Yoosung said smugly as Gilyoung shouted. 

“Hyung wants ME to do it. I do it better than you!” He argued. 

Dokja hung up, chuckling. Although they weren’t quite as clingy at 10 then they were at six, they still fought over him constantly. After a lifetime of not being wanted, the constant attention from not one but two kids was a shock. He wasn’t sure why they had liked him so much, but he wasn’t complaining. 

The elevator up was quiet. After the third fight concerning Bomi, Yoosung’s pet hamster, eating one of Gilyoung’s crickets, Dokja knew they needed to move somewhere with their own rooms. The apartments here weren’t cheap, but they were a lot bigger and safer too– he never worried when Gilyoung and Yoosung ran out the door to go to the playground at the center of their neighborhood with other kids. There were security officers, working cameras, and best of all, three bedrooms. 

Dokja barely had time to push the door open before Yoosung barreled into his arms, Gilyoung running behind her. Dokja groaned at the impact of two sugar-fueled kids hitting him at full speed but smiled nonetheless.

“Hi Ahjussi. Sorry for fighting before.” Yoosung said guiltily, looking down in shame. Gilyoung cleared his throat. Standing in front of him, the two looked like they were apologizing for much worse feats. 

“We started cutting the vegetables for Soondubu jjigae. Sorry.” Gilyoung said. Dokja peered into the kitchen, where there were copious piles of onions and zucchini on the counter. He laughed.

“With how much you guys cut we’ll be eating zucchini for a week. Don’t worry.” He kissed the tops of both of their heads. “Now go shower and get into pajamas while I cook, okay? I’m sorry for being so late.” 

The kids ran off dutifully, and Dokja washed his hands to start cooking. There were some other side dishes in the fridge, so he started the soup base and started washing the rice. 

“Ahjussi, can you check my homework after this?” Yoosung asked. In her brown pajamas with little bears on them Dokja was instantly transported back to when she was still a little girl, glued to his side and her constantly in Dokja’s or clutching his shirt fabric. 

“Sure, Yoosung-ah. Can you get me the tofu from inside the fridge?” He asked, stirring the stew. He could barely boil water before Gilyoung had started eating dinner with him. But a five year old kid needed real nutrients, so Dokja started going to Lotte Mart more often to buy real produce and fresh meat. 

It was pretty bad the first few times, but soon, Gilyoung started asking for seconds. Neither kids were picky eaters at all, and Dokja was upset seeing them nervously ask for more food. He always scooped extra onto both their plates, ignoring any protest.

“Smells yummy,” Yoosung stood near the stove and waved her hands to waft the smell over. Dokja looked at her oddly and Yoosung sighed. “Silly Ahjussi. You’re not supposed to smell it directly. Bad chemical smells can damage your olfactory nerves. You have to waft, like this.” She did it again, explaining like the little scientist she was. 

“Woah, Yoosungie is so smart.” Dokja said as he followed her. “What's this about a sleepaway field trip I hear? Your teacher wants you both to go.”

Yoosung practically lit up as she set the table. “The sleepover field trip to the aquarium! Ahjussi, it’s the Sea Life Aquarium, and we went once, but this time we get to go for two days and sleep in the exhibit with the fluorescent jellyfish!” 

“Wow, sounds fun. Who else is going? She said it was for advanced students.” Dokja himself had been disappointingly average in high school. Both Gilyoung and Yoosung being ‘advanced’ for their age gave him a sense of reassurance. No matter how lopsided Yoosung’s braid looked, or how misshapen the lunch gimbaps were, he was doing something right. 

Gilyoung slid into his seat. “The field trip? It’s only a few people from each class. Yoo Mia is going too.” Dokja started spooning stew into their bowls, making sure to put extra tofu in Yoosung’s. 

“Ahjussi, can we have a playdate with Mia tomorrow?” Yoosung asked. “Gilyoung too. She’s funny.” Dokja had heard both kids wax poetic about Yoo Mia before. He’d only seen her mom once, but she hadn’t been at the meeting today. Suddenly, he remembered where he’d remembered Yoo Mia.

“Yoo Mia! Her mom made these great lemon squares for the bake sale last month.” Dokja wasn’t big on sweets, but he’d taken two more squares after his first. “Yeah, if you guys can call her and get me her address and mom’s number then sure.” 

Yoosung nodded. Mia had her own phone, and Yoosung often called her to check homework answers. “Oh, Yoosung-ah, did you still want me to check the homework?” He asked. 

Yoosung nodded defeatedly. “I hate math.” 

Gilyoung shrugged. “Can you call Sangah-noona to read my English homework?” He asked. “It’s not due until next week, but I still want her to check it.”

Dokja stood up and started clearing the table, the kids following suit. “Actually, I think we’re going over to their house this weekend. Can she check it then?” 

Sangah and Sooyoung, two of Dokja’s closest friends, had once passionately hated each other. The hatred was mostly on Sooyoung’s part, but during Yoosung’s adoption process, Sangah had been a huge help with the paperwork. Apparently that was the point where Sooyoung started to like her, enough to the point they’d been together for three years now.

Gilyoung nodded excitedly. “We are? I like visiting Sangah-noona.”

“And Sooyoung-unnie makes really good ice-cream sundaes!” Yoosung cheered.

“No, those are just plain sugar. I don’t know how I let you have those.” Dokja muttered.

After the kids had helped him clean up, Dokja changed into a pair of pajamas and a sweatshirt, slicing peaches for dessert and checking Yoosung’s homework before they’d gone to bed. Both pets were agreed to be placed in Dokja’s room to keep them safe.

“Goodnight, Yoosung-ah. Sweet dreams!” He said softly as he closed her bedroom door. Gilyoung was sitting in his bed, waiting for Dokja. 

“Hi hyung,” he said dejectedly. Dokja frowned.

“Gilyoung, is everything okay?” He asked, sitting next to him on the bed. Gilyoung shrugged. 

“I don’t think our teacher likes me very much. I know I’m not the best at English but she always looks at me…funny.” He muttered. “I hate her, actually.”

Dokja inhaled. “Is she bothering you?” He had experienced his fair share of bullying, and teachers he knew tended to make things messier. Based on how she’d treated Dokja today, he wouldn’t be shocked if she said similar things to Gilyoung. 

Gilyoung shook his head. “No hyung, it’s just small things. Like when she hands out field trip slips and permission forms she looks at me funny. And Yoosung too.”

Dokja clenched his jaw. He should have stayed back at the meeting to chew her out in front of the other parents. Bad teachers were the same no matter how much you paid to attend the school. 

“Gilyoung-ah, don’t worry. She’s not mean because of you. It’s because she thinks I’m a bad parent.” He said, rubbing Gilyoung’s shoulder. Gilyoung looked up in a flash, surprise all over his face.

“What? No way. You’re the best!” He argued. Dokja shook his head.

“It doesn't matter. Don’t worry, ok? I’ll have a little chat with her.” He assured, helping Gilyoung into bed.

“I don’t care what she thinks. You’re the best. The other kids have the worst parents, but you’re different.” He said stubbornly. Dokja ruffled his hair.

“I love you. Goodnight, Gilyoung.” He said, smoothing the blanket and closing the door gently. 

Chapter Text

Mornings were mostly the same at the Kim’s Company residence (name credits to Sangah, who laughed as Dokja struggled to put an accurate name down for the apartment name, because Kim-Lee-Shin, or as Gilyoung liked, 'Kimshee', wasn’t going to cut it). 

Dokja woke up early, starting lunch first then breakfast, drinking coffee as he went. Gilyoung woke up first for the bathroom because Yoosung liked to sleep in, and she took longer to wash her hair anyways.

“Yoosung, did you brush yet?” Dokja called out from the kitchen. He carefully sliced the ham and cheese sandwiches he’d made, putting them into the kids’ respective lunchboxes with some sliced fruits and vegetables. 

“Almost!” She yelled out. Gilyoung sat at the table, eating breakfast. 

“So after school you’re going to Mia’s house?” Dokja asked, sitting down and sipping his coffee. Gilyoung nodded. “Did you get me her mom’s number?”

Yoosung came out from the bathroom, foam in her mouth and a slip of paper in her hand. 

“Ah-uhsii. ‘Ere.” She said, still brushing. Dokja read the address– some upscale neighborhood close to the school. 

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll pick you guys up at 6:00?” He asked. 

“Okay! Hyung, can you bake cookies? Yoo Mia liked the soft ones you made last week.” Gilyoung asked as he stood up, washing his plate. 

There was only one dessert Dokja did pretty well, and that was madeleines. Yoosung’s mother was half-French, and Dokja had noticed as much as she ignored any ties to the country (or her mother), she still loved madeleines. He had basically baked some every week since she started living with them, and since then, his recipe had only gotten better. 

“Madeleines?” Yoosung asked, her eyes sparkling. “Ahjussi, please make some! It’s been so long.” 

“Yoosung, it’s been a week.” He said, laughing. “But fine, I will make madeleines.” The kids cheered as they finished getting ready for school. Dokja started prepping the dough so he could chill it while he worked. His job allowed him to work from home at times, so he only had to go to the office for a few hours today. 

“Let me just text Yoo Mia’s mom.” He muttered, wiping flour off his hand to text the number Yoosung had given. 

“Hi, this is Yoosung and Gilyoung’s dad, Dokja. Can I pick them up at 6?” He texted. The reply was instant.

“Yes.” Dokja read out loud, slightly amused. Her mom seemed a lot nicer in person. 

“Great, thanks.” He typed out, putting his phone down to finish the dough quickly. 

His morning was spent writing new code, running into a few expected errors, and debugging for an hour or two until it worked. Minosoft gave him flexible hours, and even though getting promoted meant more money, it also meant a lot more work. The deadlines came up like waves on a rocky sea: they seemed far away until they were close, and huge, and one after another, never stopping. 

Thankfully, software work could be done from the comfort of his bedroom, which Dokja liked to spend time in. He was a natural introvert, but it wasn’t like before, where his room was like an escape from his reality. This bedroom was full of fond memories: the kids jumping on the bed, splashing in the bathtub, and sitting at his desk playing games on his desktop. 

Dokja yawned as he stretched. The kids were probably eating lunch right now, but Dokja never really felt hungry. He didn’t do much– physically, that is– so he didn’t see the point in eating too much. 

He walked over to the kitchen, checking on the dough and starting to gather other ingredients. If he baked them at 5, they’d probably be done in time for him to bring some over to Mia’s house. Her mom seemed nice enough, and while Dokja was not trying to score a date any time soon, he really, really wanted that lemon square recipe.

He’d tried them at that first bake sale of the year, held to fundraise for the field trips. Dokja wasn’t sure why ten year olds HAD to have a field trip a month, but it was the first bake sale of the year. And he didn’t want to not show up and create drama. He’d come a little late from a meeting with higher ups, clutching a store-bought tray of cupcakes and apologizing.

“My bad,” he said, approaching one of the moms. “You know how it gets at the office.” He smiled awkwardly as the woman smiled. 

“Not a problem… your wife doesn’t bake?” She asked, glancing at his hand but accepting the donation nonetheless. Dokja groaned internally. Every year with new classmates, the moms were always like this at first.

“I’m... not married.” He said politely, watching the woman’s face change from judgmental to slightly curious. 

Here's the thing: Dokja had never been attractive growing up. In fact, it was probably the least of his worries. Now, he was absolutely normal looking, if not a little asymmetrical (courtesy of Han Sooyoung). He never worked out, and his diet definitely didn’t help.

But ever since he’d started cooking decent foods with fresh produce, his skin had gotten smooth. Dokja had always been skinny, but as he started carrying around two kids, chasing them around the park, and being on his feet doing housework daily, he realized his button downs felt a little tighter in the arms. 

And maybe the biggest factor: he’d stopped looking like a ghost, stopped feeling invisible and floaty around other people. Gilyoung and Yoosung made him happy– happiness he’d never felt before. He felt real, like he finally had some purpose. Sooyoung commented on it one day while they sipped wine in their apartment with their other friends. 

“Dokja-yah. You look happy.” She’d said plainly as Heewon pretended to lose a balloon swordfight against the kids, falling dramatically. Dokja simply nodded, but Sooyoung continued. “And hot. I’m lesbian, but you are starting to look pretty damn hot.”

So in an odd turn of events, Dokja realized he was considered attractive now. Sangah had almost peed laughed at him after he got hit on at a bar by another beautiful blonde woman. 

“You’re turning into a real playboy, Dokja-ssi. Soon enough we’ll have to get you a bodyguard!” They all laughed at him, who didn’t even know how to reject people properly. The girl hadn’t understood Dokja and had instead cozied up with him until Sooyoung had taken out her phone and showed him a picture of Dokja and the kids. 

“He has two seven-year-olds.” She said, wrinkling her nose. The woman gasped in shock, profusely apologizing. 

“Sooyoung...” He said, exasperated. She smiled innocently. 

The moms at the fundraiser had spent the better part of the bake sale asking him questions too personal to brush off as friendly, and he had a growing headache. The cupcakes he’d brought had been gone in minutes, and Dokja’s only comfort had been shoving lemon squares down his throat like they were Advil.

“So, Dokja-ssi, maybe our kids could have a playdate?” One lady asked. She was just a little shorter than Dokja, and she had long black hair. Park Jina had been standing next to Dokja for the last hour or so, and they’d been talking about the kids’ planned field trips. 

“That sounds nice, Jina-ssi… do you need my number, or anything?” He asked, only realizing the implications when she smiled coquettishly and handed him her phone. Since then, Dokja had fought off multiple playdate offers from bored married women, only allowing it when Gilyoung and Yoosung wanted to go. 

Being hit on constantly had stopped by this point in the year, since it was clear he wasn’t interested. Most moms who used to offer to cook for him had started rolling their eyes at him during school events.

Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use his newfound good looks to his advantage. He needed that recipe, and Mia’s mom would definitely give it to him if all went as planned. 

Bake fucking fantastic madeleines, offer a plate to her mom, sit down over tea while the kids kept on playing, and pry the recipe out of her somehow. From the glimpse Dokja had seen of her, she seemed relatively young. She was with a man Dokja only assumed could be her husband, but he was stone cold and didn’t touch one of his wife’s god-sent lemon squares. 

Hopefully he was at work so he didn’t have to see Dokja flirt his way into the family cookbooks (and watch his wife fall for it).

Dokja exhaled calmly as he stood in front of the doorbell in front of the Yoo residence. They lived in a nice neighborhood near the school. The house was beautiful– fresh green lawn, trees starting to lose leaves. He noticed Yoosung's drawings on the walkway in chalk and smiled. The plate of madeleines was pristine in his hands, complete with a dainty bowl of clotted cream and a few sliced strawberries. 

He really, really, wanted that recipe. 

Dokja quickly checked his hair in the window reflection. He’d actually moisturized for this, and was still in work clothes, the tie tastefully loose around his neck and his hair carefully messy in the front. This wasn’t totally falsified anyways: Dokja had come straight from work, picked up the madeleines from the oven and the cream from the fridge, and left immediately. 

He pressed the doorbell, and a yell was heard from inside. Tiny footsteps pattered up the staircase. Dokja was confused– normally the kids were excited to see him. 

Heavier footsteps– this was definitely the mom. He breathed in as the door opened, smiling softly. 

“Hi, I’m Kim Dokja.” He said slowly, the smile falling from his face when the person in front of him was not a woman. 

“What you are is late.” The man corrected him. He was tall, wavy black hair falling into his eyes and had a sharp, defined, jaw. He wore grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, a pair of headphones around his neck, looking stone cold and irritated at best. “I’m Yoo Joonghyuk.” He offered. There was no invitation in. 

Dokja smiled awkwardly. This was fine. This must be the absurdly young father. Who was he to judge on parental age? 

“Hi, nice to meet you. Is Mia’s mom at home?” He asked politely. Yoo Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow. 

“Excuse me?” He asked. He had a rich bass voice, and he leaned forward, looking Dokja up and down carefully.

“Oh, I was just hoping for her lemon square recipe…” he trailed. Dokja was a man on a mission, and no hunky young husband was going to stop him. 

“I’m sure that’s all you’re here for. I thought you didn’t date?” Joonghyuk asked, scoffing. His arms were crossed now, and through the sweatshirt Dokja swore there was a ripple of muscle. He couldn’t be older than 26.  

“I’m sorry? I literally just wanted a recipe. There’s no reason to be rude.” He said, frowning. 

Joonghyuk looked mad now. “I would think you of all people understood non-traditional families. Clearly not.” He snapped, turning to call the kids down. “Mia-yah, get your friends out of here.” 

Dokja glared, stepping forward. Just a few steps and there was the kitchen. The recipe was close. “Yeah, which is why I assumed a woman who looked nothing like Mia was her mother.” 

The woman he’d seen was tall, with silky silvery hair and pearly skin, unlike Yoo Mia and Yoo Joonghyuk’s rich black waves. How dare he use the non-traditional family excuse? On Kim Dokja?

But Joonghyuk paused instead, turning to Dokja. “Did she have silver hair?” He asked. Shit. Maybe that was his partner’s secret affair? visiting his daughter at her school car wash? Dokja really wasn’t one to judge.

“Yes. I don’t care for the woman. I want the recipe.” He stated honestly. Whatever. Clearly, she wouldn't be flirting with Dokja anytime soon with Yoo Joonghyuk in front of her anyways. 

Gilyoung, Yoosung, and Mia ran to the door, identical pouts on their faces. “Can they stay longer, Oppa?” 

Yoo Mia was a carbon copy of her…brother?

“Oppa?” Dokja echoed, even more confused. Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. 

“Yoo Mia is my sister. And the woman you saw was not her mother. They look nothing alike. Why did you think that?” He asked rudely. Mia sighed, turning to Dokja instead and eyes lighting up when she saw the madeleines. 

“Madeleines!” She cheered. Yoosung ran forward to hug him . 

“Thank you Ahjussi! Can we stay longer?” Yoosung asked, reaching for a madeleine. Dokja ruffled her hair and turned to Joonghuk, glaring at him. 

“Well. Yoosung and I aren’t exactly identical either. And I am her father. So I’m not quite sure what that means.” Dokja snapped coldly. Yoo Joonghyuk looked at Dokja’s black hair, down at Yoosung’s mop of blonde, and back up to his. 

“No. They may not.” Joonghyuk said with finality, ignoring Dokja and turning back around. Mia groaned. 

“Oppa, don’t be so boring! This ahjussi is staying. I told you I wanted madeleines, and he made them instead.” She said, running to Yoo Joonghyuk and tugging at his sweatshirt. He turned around, clearly annoyed, but walked back to the door. 

Dokja smiled charmingly. “There’s cream too.” He said sweetly, stepping inside and toeing his shoes off. Gilyoung cheered and Joonghyuk started walking silently to the kitchen. 

“You guys have ten minutes.” He said, sitting down at the counter. The house had simple catalogue furniture, but it didn’t look unused. Princess blankets were strewn across the couch, drawings littered the fridge, and pictures were framed in the hallway. Mia grabbed a madeleine, dunking it in a dollop of heavy cream, placing a strawberry slice on top, and delicately shoving the whole thing in her mouth at once. Dokja almost got worried.

“This is even better than last time!” She said, her eyes shining. “Oppa, try one!” Joonghyuk shook his head, but the corner of his lips twitched upwards. So he wasn’t entirely of stone.

“I’m glad you liked them, Mia-yah. I’ll be sure to pack extras in Yoosung’s lunch box next week.” He said, smiling. Just because her brother was rude didn’t mean she had to be.

“Thanks Ahjussi! The rest of the food you make is just okay anyways.” She commented plainly. Dokja’s jaw dropped a little. Never mind. She was just a smiling version of her brother. “It’s not as good as my oppa’s food!” She gushed, putting a madeleine in Joonghyuk’s hand. 

“Ahjussi, I love you, but it’s true. Joonghyuk-oppa makes really, really good japchae.” Yoosung said, patting Dokja’s shoulder. This was cruel! He stuttered as Joonghyuk finally cracked a smile– more like a satisfied smirk.

“But he can’t make madeleines, can he, Mia-yah?” Dokja asked smugly, smothering another one in cream and handing it to her. She took it without hesitation and nodded, her squirrel-like cheeks making the kids laugh.

“No. That he can’t, so I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t like lemon squares anymore.” She announced as she turned to her stunned brother. “This is my new favorite food.” The kids took a few more and ran upstairs, giggling. Dokja smiled victoriously.

“So. On the topic of lemon squares..?” he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Joonghyuk looked positively furious. 

“You think I’m giving up my lemon square recipe after you just came in here and ruined her appetite with those sugar bombs?” He scoffed, standing up. “No way in hell.” 

Dokja stood up. “That’s unfair! It’s not my fault I make a mean madeleine. Admit it. It was good, Yoo Joonghyuk!” Dokja stepped forward, inches away from Joonghyuk, staring him down. The recipe. He needed that recipe, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to come back and ask again, not to this rude guy.

But Joonghyuk was looking at him differently now. Were they still talking about French cookies? “It was terrible.” He hissed, not moving. Dokja rolled his eyes.

“Really? You have cream on your lip.” He commented, almost reaching out to wipe it. 

They’d somehow maneuvered to Dokja standing with his back to the sink, Joonghyuk in front of him, almost caging him in. Dokja almost laughed about how bad this would look for his beautiful wife, until he realized there was no wife. 

Shit. This just looked bad.

Yoo Joonghyuk stayed still, now glaring. Almost daring him to even try and wipe it off. Dokja’s hand shot up and his thumb swiped the smudge of cream off in a flash. His lip was soft, kind of wet. Joonghyuk’s hand moved to where Dokja’s had just been, missing it by a flash.

“Rude people don’t get clotted cream, Joonghyuk-ah.” He said, slipping to the side to face the man without being literally under him. “You were pretty mean earlier.” He said casually. Joonghyuk shrugged.

“Well, I’m sick of people assuming our family status.” 

Dokja shrugged mockingly. “Too bad. You’re going to have to get used to it.” Dokja was giving solid advice right now. If Joonghyuk planned on toughing out more PTO meetings, he really needed thicker skin. 

Plus, if Dokja was considered attractive, this man was a chiseled Greek god. He was surprised he even got any attention with Joonghyuk around. Wwait. Had he actually ever met the man? “Joonghyuk-ssi,” he asked, “Why aren’t you at PTO meetings?”

Yoo Joonghyuk drummed his fingers along the marble countertops. “Those are useless. I stopped going after one of the moms tried to cook for Mia during a playdate pickup.” 

Dokja laughed brightly. “Oh god, was it Yerin? She did the same thing with me, damn.” 

Joonghyuk shook his head. “I don’t know how you find it funny. It’s terrible. Her older kids aren’t much younger to me.”

This made Dokja stop in his tracks. Yerin looked pretty young, and Dokja was pretty sure he had been close enough to Joonghyuk just now for it to be considered questionable.

“How old are you?” He asked. Joonghyuk seemed to think for a moment.

“Twenty-four. Yerin has gotten some work done.” He said plainly, almost reading Dokja's mind.

Dokja chuckled at that. Her mouth did move funny when she was chewing at dinner that night.

He paused, “Wait, you’re twenty-four? God, you’re young.” He commented wistfully. Thirty-one wasn’t old by any means, but he still felt old compared to Joonghyuk.

Joonghyuk scowled. “I can take care of Mia just fine regardless.” He turned around, grabbing ingredients from the fridge. Dokja nodded, realizing the nerve he’d just struck.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t. I was twenty-five when I adopted Gilyoung, and he was just 5 then.” Gilyoung was first, then Yoosung a few months later. 

Joonghyuk started cubing tofu, clearly done with him. Dokja hopped off the stool and called down the kids.

“Well, we’ll be out of your house now.” He said, walking back to the door. Joonghyuk, to his credit, followed. 

“Hyung! Can we stay for dinner?” Gilyoung asked, sulking down the stairs. Mia lightly punched her brother. 

“Oppa, say yes! It’s a Friday.” She argued. 

But Dokja shook his head. “Kids, we have to go to Sooyoung-noona’s house tomorrow, and I already started dinner.” Gilyoung groaned. “Gilyoung-ah, you like Sooyoung-noona. Come on. Ice-cream sundaes, remember?” He said, rubbing his head. Joonghyuk’s eyebrow raised.

“Sooyoung?” He asked.

“She’s a friend,” Dokja explained, helping Gilyoung into his jacket. “Bye Mia-yah! Enjoy the madeleines.”

She waved. “I will Ahjussi! Can I come over on Monday for more?” She asked sweetly. Both siblings had their own charm, Dokja thought, and it was working pretty well. 

“If your brother here is fine with it, I don’t see why not.” 

“No.” 

“Oppa! Don’t be silly!” She snapped, hugging Yoosung goodbye and waving Dokja off.

What an odd pair of siblings.

Chapter Text

Deciding what to eat for dinner was a regular fight between the kids, so Dokja wasn’t surprised when they both ran up to him in a hurry one night, shouting their preferences.

“Hyung! Please make grilled mackerel. It’s been so long!” Gilyoung asked, tugging on his sleeve.

“Ahjussi! You can’t. Fish are friends, not food!” Yoosung protested. It was probably a mistake to let her watch Finding Nemo, because it had amplified her love for sea animals enough that eating seafood had become taboo in the house.

“Fish! Fish! Fish!” Gilyoung chanted. 

“I think what the both of you need is to run around a little. Go get your jackets, we’re going to the park.” He said, sending them off with a pat as they cheered and ran off, forgetting how they’d been at each other's throats moments ago.

The park tactic had been working ever since they were kids. If they started fighting too much or bouncing off the walls with energy, Dokja would take them to the park and let them run free for a bit. When they got back, they’d be too tired to argue, or in this case, fight over dinner.

Dokja packed some snacks into a container, putting it in the going-out backpack. In the bag, he stuffed a few re-usable grocery bags as well. There was practically nothing in the fridge, and the regular park he’d found near their school was conveniently placed near a small local grocery store.

“Guys, let’s go!” He yelled, waiting at the door. Dokja had some work left to do, because his boss had assigned him a new project. Minosoft mostly focused on gaming products and assistive AI technology (which is what Dokja did). They had some upcoming client that wanted to be the sole user of the AI software to use for tracking user movements and providing extra details for training. 

Although this did mean a nicer paycheck, it also meant more of his money was going towards formal meeting attire. He had started going to more executive meetings– the software was originally a side project he’d picked up, and once there was a solid proof-of-concept he’d presented it, not knowing Minosoft would really pick it up and make it a whole thing.

Gilyoung and Yoosung ran to the elevator, chattering about what they should do first.

“Hyung, will you swing with us?” Gilyoung asked.

“Ahjussi, let’s play hide-and-seek! You can seek because you’re so big.” Yoosung said as they started walking out.

“Okay, let’s play hide-and-seek then.” 

The walk to the park was a few minutes past the school, which was a short six minutes away. There was a local grocery right across the street from the park, so Dokja liked to sometimes hit three birds with one stone– pick up the kids, take them to the park, and go grocery shopping. 

“Ahjussi, you have to count till 50, okay?” Yoosung stated. The park was decently-sized, with a playground at the center, trees, bushes, and slabs of rock all around, and a paved walkway down the middle. 

“Okay,” he agreed, turning to face a tree as he put his hands over his face and started counting. 

“1….2….,” Dokja started.

“Slower, Ahjussi!” Yoosung yelled, already running away.

As he counted, his mind drifted to his work again. The project was in the last stages of development, and soon the Eunha Interactive Gaming team would be testing out the product. He was pretty nervous about it all— it didn’t matter how many contracts had been drafted up, or how much money had been offered. If the team didn’t find it to their benefit, they wouldn’t use it. 

Sure, there were other teams, and Minosoft could choose not to sell it to one team only and instead allow multiple groups to buy the software, but Eunha was the best, and Sangah (who worked in the HR department there) always told him to ‘shoot for the stars’.

“49….,” he said, still counting. “..51..? Shit, I had to stop at 50.” He muttered, turning around. As expected, the kids were gone. The park wasn’t too much to walk through, and this area was very safe.

“Yoosung-ah, Gilyoung-ah, where are you?” He sang out, peeking behind bushes. A golden flash of hair shook near him and Dokja purposefully ignored it, choosing to go closer to the playground. 

“Are you over here?” He asked playfully, noticing a small hand under the slide.

“Dokja-oppa?” A small, watery, voice asked him. Dokja paused and bent down under the slide. Yoo Mia had her legs tucked under her chin, a pink backpack next to her and dried tears on her face. 

“Yoo Mia? Are you alright?” He asked, offering her a hand up. She took it, clearly upset. “Are you hurt? Is everything okay? Where’s your brother?”

At the mention of Yoo Joonghyuk, Mia immediately crossed her arms, frustration apparent on her face.

“Silly Oppa. I’m never going back to live with him!” She said, plopping down on the slide dejectedly. Dokja sighed.

“Yoosung, Gilyoung, come out now.” He had seen the kids in the first few seconds– Yoosung between the bushes, and Gilyoung under a slab of rock. He heard rushed footsteps crunching over twigs and grass.

“Mia-yah!” Yoosung yelled out, hugging her friend. “Why are you here?” 

Mia shrugged. “My brother missed my ballet class, and I yelled at him. And he didn’t even get mad! He just went back to his stupid basement.” She grabbed her backpack and swung it on her shoulders, a determined look on her face. “So I’m running away.” 

Dokja’s eyes widened. “Mia, does he know you’re here?” He asked frantically, already taking his phone out. 

Mia rolled her eyes. “That defeats the purpose, oppa. Have you never run away before?”

Dokja blinked. He had run away quite a few times over the course of his life. He was pretty good at it. When he was 17 , he finally managed to get out of his aunt’s house for good, saving money from a part-time job he’d had and running to Busan to live with Sooyoung until he turned 18.

“Mia, you have no reason to run away. Joonghyuk is a very, very good brother.” He explained to her. “Doesn’t he make good japchae? And lemon bars?” He offered softly.

“And chicken katsu.” Gilyoung piped in. Mia sighed.

“But he misses my stuff! Last year, he missed my whole ballet show. He’s so busy all of the time now.” She said sadly. Dokja felt bad for her. He remembered, a little too well, how it felt to feel abandoned. 

“Oh, Mia, it’s okay. Let’s talk to him, okay?” He tried to cajole her and Yoosung grabbed her hand and pulled her off the slide.

“We have madeleines in the snack box?” She asked. Mia nodded glumly. 

“Give me some, please.” 

Dokja shrugged off the backpack and pulled out his phone, ignoring the work-related emails and instead swiping to find Joonghyuk’s number. They hadn’t texted since the playdate last Friday. Dokja pressed the call button and walked to the side so Mia wouldn’t overhear.

The call was unanswered. Dokja dialed again, pissed off. Joonghyuk couldn’t be this busy. Had he even noticed Mia’s absence?

“Pick up..” He muttered as he dialed for a third time. The call connected.

“Why are you calling me.” Yoo Joonghyuk asked flatly . There was the faint, recognizable noise of a video game Dokja had heard of in the background. Was this asshole really gaming right now?
“Don’t freak out. I’m at the park with the kids and we found Mia. She was trying to run away.” He said in one breath. “She’s fine now, don’t worry.”

“My sister?” Joonghyu asked tightly. Dokja heard a few footsteps and a door opening. “Mia-yah?” He called out away from the phone. 

“Why would I be lying about this? Mia’s in front of me. She doesn’t want to talk to you right now. Do you want me to walk her back.?” Dokja asked. 

But Joonghyuk clearly had other plans as the front door slammed shut and Joonghyuk got into his car. “Send me your location, now.” He ordered. 

“You idiot. It's the park near the school. Across the small grocery store. Don’t drive, it’s probably a five minute walk from you guys.” He said irritatedly. The phone beeped. “Did this guy just hang up? On me?” Dokja was annoyed but not surprised.

“Oppa, can I live with you instead?” Mia asked. “I forgot my phone at home.” 

Dokja wasn’t religious, but quickly thanked his lucky stars he’d been the one to find Mia. To whatever constellation was blessing him right now, thank you, he thought. The area was safe, but it was starting to get dark out, and Seoul was a city, no matter how safe one neighborhood was.

“Yes! Hyung, Mia can live with us for a little bit. We all go to the same school anyways.” Gilyoung asked, high-fiving her. 

“Mia, you would miss Joonghyuk’s cooking, right?” Dokja asked, sitting down with them on the grass. She nodded half-heartedly.

“It's true. Oppa cooks way better than you.” She commented. Dokja ignored the jab and kept on explaining.

“Plus, you have family that loves you. You’re lucky!” He said. 

“Yoo Mia!” Speak of the devil. Yoo Joonghyuk jogged up to them, his hair messy and headphones still around his neck. He was wearing sweatpants and fuzzy grey slippers. Had he run in those?
“Oppa. I’m running away.” Mia stated confidently. “I’m living with Dokja-oppa now.” Dokja paled as Joonghyuk’s glare turned to him, his wrath fully focused on Dokja now.

“She’s joking. She’s just upset, Joonghyuk-ssi.” He said, trying to appease him. It didn’t work.

“Did you secretly plot this to happen?” He asked menacingly. Dokja was astounded. The nerve of this man was absolutely insane.

“You have got to be kidding me. I find your kid sister out alone at 7pm, calm her down, call you and offer to bring her back, and you think I’m doing this to get back at you?” Dokja huffed, disbelieving amusement on his face, and Joonghyuk seemed to regain some of his senses. He bent down in front of Mia.

“Mia, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I missed ballet and I didn’t make dumplings for lunch like I promised.” He stated somberly. “Now will you please come back? It’s late, and I know you’re hungry.” 

Dokja could tell that Joonghyuk, as stone-faced as he was, was probably wracked with guilt. Mia was only fourteen years younger than him. It couldn’t have been easy having to parent someone before you’d fully grown up yourself. 

Damn it, Dokja thought. 

“Mia, you have to go back. My food sucks, and your brother loves you a lot. He’s really sorry.” Dokja recited. 

Mia stood near her friends and Dokja, sighing dramatically in defeat. “Okay, I guess. Sorry for running away, Oppa!” She got over things pretty quickly. “Can we get dinner with them now?” She asked sweetly. She knew how to work Joonghyuk, it seemed.

Joonghyuk sighed. “Do we have to?” He mumbled. Mia nodded seriously. 

“Okay,” he sighed, the kids cheering. “But I’m not eating his food.” 

Dokja laughed sarcastically. “Who said I was cooking for your ass? We’re ordering out.”

The walk back home was full of chatter, the kids laughing and skipping and Dokja and Joonghyuk behind them, silent. Joonghyuk had this odd look in his eyes– his eyebrows were furrowed, his tongue poked out of his cheek. His hands were shoved into the pockets in his sweatpants angrily. It was only then Dokja noticed he was wearing a fitted short-sleeve t-shirt, his arm flexing as he shivered lightly.

“God, aren’t you freezing?” Dokja quipped, half small talk-y and half worried. “It’s chilly out. At least Mia had the sense to grab her jacket.” He joked.

“It doesn’t matter. I lost her.” He started, raising a hand to push his hair back. “Who does that? I’ve had her for four years. I’ve never done that. Ever.” He spoke, his words heavy and drenched in self-hatred. 

“It happens. You’re young,” Dokja held up a hand, not letting Joonghyuk interrupt, “and I know it’s a lot to balance. It’s okay, Joonghyuk-ssi. I was there, I got Mia, and everything’s fine. Don’t let it get to you. Okay?” He reassured the other . “And take my jacket, I feel bad just looking at you.” 

“I’m fine.” Joonghyuk answered. “But,” he said, clearly fighting to find the words, “Thank you.”

Dokja chuckled– he didn’t think saying those two simple words would be that hard for Joonghyuk. 

“Well, I obviously didn’t do it for free.” He joked. “Lemon…. square… recipe?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes. Dokja wasn’t one to give up that easily, especially now that Joonghyuk basically owed him for saving his sister's life.

Joonghyuk just paused and smiled sarcastically. “No…fucking…way.” He retorted. 

It was obvious to Dokja that Joonghyuk wasn’t an unattractive man by any means. He was tall, very jacked, and very handsome. 

But walking next to him, bickering with the man, watching him irritated but amused at the kids’ antics and Dokja’s jokes, Dokja felt his gaze soften a little bit. Joonghyuk was a good guy, even if he was mean, and rude, and hadn’t apologized once for all of his antics.

Dokja had met a lot of people in his life, more often bad than good. He’d never had good experiences meeting new people, because all it was was inviting new pain. His father had hurt him, his mother had hurt him, his uncles and aunts had done the same. Kids at school were mean and relentless, and teachers never helped. 

But the last few years he’d realized that there was lots of good in the world– you just had to look for it sometimes.

“Okay,” he said, the five of them crowding into the elevator, “hopefully the apartment is clean.” 

Joonghyuk wrinkled his nose. “Gross.” 

Dokja lightly kicked him in the shin. “Have some respect. I’m inviting you into my home.”

Dokja prayed the apartment was clean. He didn’t need something new for Joonghyuk to start absolutely bitching about. The man was prickly and easily irritated. He really didn’t know why Mia liked him so much. Sure, he was handsome, probably really hardworking, and had raised Mia alone for the last four years, but he was still really annoying. 

“Mia, come see my hamster! Her name is Bomi.” Yoosung said as they ran inside, kicking their shoes off and dumping the jackets on the couch. 

“No, look at my cockroach!” Gilyoung argued. 

“I will not.” Mia groaned, letting herself be dragged to Yoosung’s room.

Dokja laughed as he picked up their jackets, hanging them up in the small closet near the entrance. Joonghyuk finally looked a little warmer, and he looked around the clean apartment before finding it acceptable for his standards, walking inside.

Dokja took off his jacket and hung it up. The house was pretty cold, and he cranked up the thermostat. 

“How are you cold?” Joonghyuk asked him, sitting down at the dinner table in the center of the kitchen and finally relaxing. Dokja huffed.

“ It’s November. It’s already cold enough, and I get extra cold.” He muttered, pulling out his phone to start ordering food. Joonghyuk raised his eyebrow.

“You’re not ordering food.” He stated, confused. “I don’t trust you.”

Dokja barked out a laugh. “It’s mutual, idiot. You don’t have to eat it.” He found the number of the restaurant and called it before Joonghyuk could protest.

“Hello, this is First Murim.” 

“Hi, it’s Dokja! Can I just get double the usual?” He asked, noticing Joonghyuk, who glared at him disapprovingly.

“Not triple?” The lady asked. 

“No, not that many people here today.” He said, starting to set the table. “Delivery is good, right?” He checked.

“Sure, it’ll just be fifteen minutes. Have a nice night!” Dokja hung up the call and started arranging plates. First Murim was a restaurant just five minutes away, and Dokja had fallen in love with their dumplings the first time he’d gone there. He’d taken the kids first, then the rest of his friends, and they’d all agreed– their secret dumpling recipe was otherworldly. Dokja hadn’t even tried to get the recipe for these. Some recipes were better unknown. It would ruin the pure magic in the food.

Over the years, he and the rest of his ‘company’ had perfected the best order of food, If Dokja was with just the kids, he ordered that, and if he was with Sangah, Sooyoung, Hyungsung, and Heewon, he ordered the triple set. He’d never ordered a double before.

“This place better be good.” Joonghyuk said, doubt all over his face. “I don’t like eating out much.” 

Dokja hummed as he sat down across the table. “It’s great. They have really good dumplings.”

“Good enough that you order triple?” Joonghyuk asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. Dokja laughed at the jab. “She even knew your order.” 

“Oh Joonghyuk. She knows my card number too. It's probably burned into their card reader anyways. The kids love this place, and so does the rest of the company.” He explained fondly. 

“Company…?” Joonghyuk trailed off. Dokja waved his hands dismissively.

“My friends. I’m no CEO.” He said, laughing. 

“Where do you work?” Joonghyuk asked casually. 

“Minosoft– I just do boring software stuff.” He said. “What about you?” 

Joonghyuk shrugged, but as he started to speak, Mia, Yoosung, and Gilyoung immediately ran into the kitchen, chanting. 

“Sleepover! Sleepover! Sleepover!” They shouted in unison, their arms flapping together in some kind of practiced interpreted dance. Dokja chuckled but sighed sadly.

“Hell no.” Joonghyuk said firmly. Mia stuck her tongue out, continuing the chant an octave higher now.

“Sorry guys, but not today. I have work in the morning, and it’s also a school night.” Dokja said, shutting down the kids with a sorry smile. They pouted but accepted the defeat, groaning as they flopped onto the couch.

Sitting across the table from Joonghyuk, watching the kids play together as they exchanged snarky comments and the occasional smile, Dokja felt a sense of companionship he’d never felt before. He had raised the kids alone once they’d been adopted, and as present as the rest of the Company was in their lives, offering to babysit, come to events, and help around the house, they still weren’t here full time. 

Dokja wondered what it would have been like– parenting with someone else. 

It certainly would have its own fair share of arguments, but it would be nice to enjoy a cup of coffee with someone other than his webnovels in the morning. 

Probably would have been good to have someone to confide in about his fears: was he a good father, were the kids doing okay, would not having a maternal figure affect them? Would he slowly become like his own parents? 

And most of all, he felt a little lonely at times. The kids were great, and so were his friends, but he understood without having experienced it that romantic love was definitely different. Going out as friends had never been a big deal, because the five of them had all been friends before they’d coupled up. But Dokja still looked at them with a pang of emptiness– when the night ended and they went back to their respective homes, Dokja was still the only one going home alone.

It was illogical to think about it like this, though– Dokja had gotten stuck in this spiral before. 

Life was nothing more than a series of the nested if-statements he hated coding. Sure, if he’d somehow had a romantic partner, the relationship could have gone wrong and affect the kids, who easily could become attached. And if he’d been in a relationship he wouldn’t have just adopted two kids without any thought to it at twenty-five. If he’d been in a relationship maybe he would have been happier as a teenager, but he also wouldn’t have found Han Sooyoung that night he tried running away, bumping into a girl on the subway engrossed in writing something that looked a little too familiar to Dokja, striking a conversation that would spark a decades long friendship.

So yes, daydreaming about his life with a partner was illogical to do so, but Dokja had never been one for logic anyways.

The doorbell shocked him from the quiet train of thoughts running in his head, the comfortable silence at the table broken by the knocks on his door.

“Delivery!” 

Dokja stood up to get the food, the smell of warm dumplings instantly curing any regrets he was just feeling. 

“Joonghyuk-ah, just get the kids to sit down.” He asked, grabbing his wallet to get the food. He tipped the delivery guy, his card already having been charged at the restaurant. The food smelled better than normal or something.

“Sit.” Joonghyuk ordered the kids, pointing at the chairs.

“Joonghyuk-ah, they aren’t dogs.” He giggled .  “Kids, come sit! Mia, you’re going to love this.” Dokja said excitedly. Gilyoung clapped as he sat down, eagerly helping Dokja take the boxes out of the brown bag. There were plenty of side dishes, some soup and rice, and most importantly, Murim Dumplings. 

“Okay guys, dig in!” Dokja announced as he sat down. It was nice having a larger table– once the Company had started coming around more, he decided to upgrade the small table in the kitchen to a full sized one. The kitchen counters wrapped around the length of the back wall and partly around the sides. It was really a large kitchen, so Dokja decided to put the table in the center of the kitchen. The kids liked doing homework there while Dokja cooked. But it felt a little too large when it was just three of them.

Joonghyuk picked up a dumpling delicately and sniffed it. “Hm.”

“Just eat it, idiot.” Dokja said, nudging Joonghyuk’s arm closer to his mouth. He was surprisingly warm, and Dokja suppressed the odd urge to squeeze the muscle underneath his fingertips. Joonghyuk complied and ate the dumpling, fighting a surprised grin after he swallowed.

“It’s passable.” He said nonchalantly. 

Dokja grinned and turned to Mia. “If your frigid Oppa likes it then, you are going to love these!” He exclaimed. But Mia was already swallowing dumplings happily, dunking them in sauce and alternating between bites of kimchi and marinated cucumbers. “Well, I guess I spoke too late.” He said, not surprised.

Dokja grabbed a few dumplings off the center plate, savoring the flavor. 

“So, Mia, you’re also going on that field trip?” He asked between bites. Mia nodded, waiting to finish chewing before she spoke. 

“Yeah, I’m excited. I’ve never gone there before,” She said, stacking two dumplings and eating them in an impressive single bite, “but it looks cool!”

“Mia, slow down. You’re going to choke.” Joonghuk said, a fond smile on his face. 

Laughing as the kids talked about school, friends, and field trips, Dokja felt completely relaxed. He normally didn’t like having to meet new people, but Yoo Joonghyuk was some sort of anomaly. As much as he didn’t like the guy, it felt like he’d known him for a lifetime before this, as odd as it was. It was only after they’d left that Dokja realized Joonghyuk had never told him what he did for work.

Chapter Text

Dokja scurried to the door as he heard it ring. Every other Saturday, ‘Kim’s Company’ as they’d dubbed themselves, would meet up at one of the houses. The group consisted of Dokja, the kids, Sangha, Sooyoung, Heewon, Hyungung, and in the last year or so, Jihye– the kids’ babysitter and practically a little sister to Heewon. 

It was nice having everyone back together. Funnily enough, Dokja had been the one to unite them all, which is why it was ‘his’ company. He had met Han Sooyoung at a train station, Yoo Sangah at work, Jung Heewon at the kids’ taekwondo lessons, Hyungsung during his military service, and Jihye when he hired her as a babysitter. 

Over the years, the cross-relations between them grew until Dokja realized they all knew of each other to some extent. The first dinner at his house had been chaotic, but they’d kept the tradition. 

Dokja owed a lot to his friends. But they also owed him some things too.

“Did you bring my Tupperware?” Dokja immediately asked as he turned to Han Sooyoung, pausing to greet Yoo Sangah with a smile. “Hi Sangah-ssi.”

Yoo Sangah smiled guiltily. “God, we totally forgot. Sorry Dokja-ssi!” She said, bowing embarrassedly. Sooyoung nudged her sharply. 

“Never apologize, babe. Dokja, you have too much Tupperware to be bitching about one container. I’ll get it next week.” She said as she rolled her eyes and pushed her way past Dokja to go inside.
“Hi!” Gilyoung said excitedly. Sooyoung waved to greet him but both kids barreled past her to greet Yoo Sangah. 

“That’s karma, Sooyoung,” Dokja joked, taking her jacket and hanging it up, “Next time maybe bring me my Tupperware back, okay?” 

“Relax. You owe me anyway, so it cancels out.” She explained, sitting down at the table and kicking her feet onto another chair, stretching back with a content yawn.

“How do I owe you.”

“I let you pre-read the unreleased webnovel I was working on? Hello?” She asked, waving his phone in front of his face.

Dokja groaned. “That didn’t count! You offered to, because you needed a beta reader!” He argued. 

Sooyoung shrugged. “You’ll be okay without one Tupperware.” 

Dokja had known Sooyoung the longest– she was literally his first friend. His only comfort in those hellish years had been various webnovels. When he tried running away at 14, hopping on a train to Seoul, he’d stumbled off the train station in the early hours of the morning and hit a girl with a choppy black bob and her head buried in her phone, typing furiously. The phone had fallen, and he’d picked it up, almost gasping when he recognized the words a little too well.

He owed her a lot. Dokja owed her his own life. She’d been the only one pushing him to live , even if it was by releasing new chapters of the webnovel. When he ran away for real, she opened up her tiny studio apartment to him, and that had been the start of a real life for him.

“Sorry, Dokja-ssi. Next week, we promise..” Sangah said sheepishly. Dokja rolled his eyes at her embarrassment. 

“It’s just Tupperware, Sangah, don’t worry about it.” He ignored Sooyoung’s protest and walked back to the door as the doorbell rang again. 

“Ahjussi, hi.” Lee Jihye was at the door looking absolutely bored. 

“Hi Jihye. Come in.” 

Lee Jihye was only a teenager, but Dokja felt like he’d known her forever by this point. She lived a few floors up with her father, who was constantly traveling for work. Dokja had bumped into her a few times that first year at the grocery store, buying packs of instant ramen, cheap kimbaps, and ice cream. She had a hollow look in her eyes.

She reminded him a lot of himself at that age, especially when he saw her do her laundry alone and pick up packages, signing on clipboards nervously.

He’d approached her because he also needed a babysitter. The kids were at the age where they couldn’t be left home alone but didn’t need a daycare. 

“Excuse me?” He asked politely one day in the apartment lobby. She had been coming home from school and looked at him weirdly.

“Can I help you?” She asked in that teenager fashion. 

“I’m Kim Dokja, I live in this building with my kids. Would you be interested in babysitting?” He said in one breath. Jihye shrugged and asked when she needed to start.

Over the next few months, he learned a few things about her. Jihye had been living basically alone for the last year. She was about to get her black belt in taekwondo. She liked sword-fighting. Her childhood best friend had died in a tragic accident a few months ago.

It explained the empty look she had sometimes, and how she’d clench her jaw when the kids watched certain TV shows. Dokja made her stay for dinner when she didn’t have too much homework most nights, and he slowly watched the smile on her face come back.

The real Lee Jihye wasn’t half as polite as she was when he first met her. She was snarky, always had something to say, and poked fun at everyone.

“Ahjussi, did you cut your hair or something? It looks awful.” She said with a grimace on her face. “Move over. Is Heewon-unnie here yet?” She walked inside, nudging Dokja to the side and glancing around.

“Hi Jihye!” Sangah waved. “How are you?” 

“Hi Sangah-unnie!” She said brightly. “I’m good, let me show you the pictures from my last taekwondo competition.” 

Personally, Dokja thought Jihye was only mean to him, and sometimes Sooyoung. Jung Heewon was practically her sister, Hyunsung was Heewon’s husband so it was expected for them to get along, and Sangah had that undeniable charm to her. The kids were annoying at times, but she doted on them in her own way. 

Sooyoung and her were similar enough to either bitch at each other or together at someone else– so mostly, Dokja.

But Jihye had needed someone so badly after her friend had died, and Dokja couldn’t bear to see another kid like himself slip into the spiral of anger, guilt, self-hatred, and eventual helplessness. 

“Jihye!” Jung Heewon had let herself in and slipped past Dokja, greeting the girl. Hyunsung followed behind her, multiple brown bags balanced in his arms. 

“Hyunsung-ssi, let me help you,” Dokja offered, but Hyunsung walked over carefully to the kitchen table and set them down. He and Heewon really were perfect for each other.

“Hi Dokja-ssi. Hope you’re okay with Chinese food.” Hyunsung said as Dokja started to take out the copious amounts of food.

Sooyoung snorted. “Okay? He’s more than ‘okay’ with anything Chinese related. Especially those bel-”

Dokja shoved a hand in the vicinity of her mouth. “Less talking, more eating. Shut up.” 

The kids lazed on the couch with Hyunsung as Jihye complained about schoolwork. 

“I hate how much work we have to do! Especially for stupid classes I won’t need. I’m not leaving Korea. Why do I need English Literature?” She ranted frustratedly. “No offence, Sangah-unnie.” 

Sangah shook her head. “None taken.” She paused to turn to Dokja, who was busy at the counter packing up leftovers from lunch for everyone. “Dokja, do the kids want me to check their homework again?” 

Dokja hummed. “I think they’re okay this week.” He stepped out to the living room. “Guys, any homework help?” 

Yoosung nodded. “Not on English. I need help with math.”

Jihye beckoned her over confidently. “Give it to me. Unnie is really good at math.” 

An hour later the whole Company was sitting at the table, an innocent math worksheet in the center of the table and YouTube videos playing on three different devices.

“This is insane. Kids have to do this?” Sooyoung asked, erasing her answer. Dokja rewinded a section of the video.

“Carry the four? Don’t you multiply the four?” He muttered.
“No, that’s just if the variable can be eliminated.” Sangah explained, turning back to her own paper.

The kids were playing video games with Jihye, homework forgotten. Yoosung walked over, looking at the state of five adults struggling over a fifth-grade math worksheet.

“Ahjussi, I’m going to call Mia.” She said, grabbing the phone.
“Mia?” Sooyoung asked.

“New friend in their class. They’ve been having a lot of fun together.” He explained. He left out the part about Mia’s older brother. It didn’t feel worth mentioning. Or anything, if Dokja mentioned it, he’d have to mention why he didn’t like the guy, and then start with the lemon squares, and the sink, and then they’d look him up on LinkedIn since he probably had an amazing job and find out he was Really Hot. 

And then Dokja’s life would go to shit. So– he avoided talking about Mia’s family. 

“Mia-yah, hi!” Yoosung said over the phone. “The first one is seven? Okay, I thought so too.” She said, drawing a smiley face on the worksheet. 

Sooyoung’s head was in her hands. “Damn. I really thought it would be nine.”

Yoosung went through the questions in a similar fashion, until the worksheet was finished. 

“Now the back,” Mia’s voice said faintly.

Heewon paused. “The what?”

Yoosung flipped the page over, going through the questions no one else had noticed.

“I need a drink.” Sooyoung groaned.

Mia and Yoosung chattered over the phone as Dokja watched on. Maybe it was time to get Yoosung her own phone. Dokja didn’t think she needed one, but he didn’t want her to feel left out. 

“Guys, should I get Yoosung a phone?” He asked the table. After breaking up efforts to conquer the math homework, the rest of the company was sitting around the table, sipping wine and snacking on something pulled from Dokja’s pantry. 

“Yes.” Jihye stated, going back to scrolling on her phone. 

Sangha hummed. “It depends..I really wouldn’t know, I guess.” She laughed sheepishly. 

At times, Dokja felt like he had no clue as to what he was doing. He didn’t have any other parent friends, especially single-parent friends. And Yoosung and Gilyoung deserved the world. DOkja just wasn’t sure he knew how to give it to them.

“Yoosung,” he called out, waving her closer.

Maybe he did have one parent friend– not so much a parent, more closer to a responsible adult brother, but it was the best he had.

“Yes, Ahjussi?” She asked. “Want to say hi to Mia?” 

“Yeah, of course!” He took the phone. “Hi Mia-yah, how are you?”

“Good, I guess.” She said.

“Listen, I have a quick question for your brother. Can you hand him the phone quickly?” He asked. 

“Yeah, okay. Give me a second.” 

Sooyoung scoffed. “Brother?”

“It’s complicated.” He waved her off, putting his ear back to the phone when he heard Joonghyuk.

“What.” He grunted into the phone. 

“Is that any way to greet someone who constantly drives your kid around town?” Dokja half-joked. The guy could be a little more polite. Dokja knew Joonghyuk didn’t HATE him, but it wasn’t like he LIKED him either. 

Dokja also wasn't in love with him. As much as he was a great guardian towards Mia, he’d been nothing but mean towards Dokja. But they joked around fine, so Dokja was always confused why every time they started talking Joonghyuk put up this ‘mysterious unapproachable hot-guy’ behavior. 

“I’m busy. What do you want?” He sighed. Loud keyboard typing was heard behind him. Joonghyuk was probably working– some crazy fancy job to pay for their beautiful house.

“I was wondering, do you think I should get Yoosung a phone?” He asked, sitting down and ignoring Sooyoung and Sangah’s confused looks. “I can hear you glaring at me. Stop.” He said to Joonghyuk.

“Did you call me just to ask that?” He muttered, still clicking away angrily. 

“Yeah.”

“God, I can’t believe you. I said I was busy!” He exclaimed. 

“Yeah, but you won’t hang up on me. You owe me for saving your sister. Like big-time.” Dokja explained. 

“What?” Heewon asked, trying to listen in. They’d probably never seen him talk to someone else outside of them for so long.

“Fuck!” He growled into the phone. 

“What? Damn, sorry.” 

“No, not you. Yeah, get her a phone. Maybe as a birthday gift, or Christmas. Whatever’s first.” He said, finally paying attention to Dokja and not typing away.

“Okay. What model does Mia have? It seemed like a good one.” He asked.

“I’ll text it to you.” 

“Texting…does that mean I can text you now? Are we becoming real friends?” He asked jokingly.

“Don’t push it. Is that all?” He asked. It was annoying how eager Joonghyuk seemed to be to get out of this conversation. Dokja liked talking to Joonghyuk, not that he’d ever admit it. It was different than talking to his own friends. They were amazing, of course, but Joonghyuk was in some odd way, different.

“Come on, just let me annoy you for a bit longer?” He whined.

“You already annoy me enough wherever we’re forced to meet. Is that not enough for you?” Joonghyuk snapped.

“Fine, whatever, asshole.” Dokja hung up with a smile, putting the phone down to his friends' interested glares.

“Who are you calling an asshole? And asking for parenting advice?” Heewon asked scandalously. 

“It’s not like that!” Dokja argued.

“You were giggling!” Sangha pointed out.

“It REALLY isn’t like that!” Dokja shouted, embarrassed. He didn’t know he was giggling. Sangha had to be bluffing to trap him. She did that sometimes.

“Whatever you say….” Sooyoung said, munching on a lollipop. “I guess playboy Dokja is back in the game.”

Chapter Text

In his early years of raising the kids, Kim Dokja didn’t think there was something he hated more than PTO meetings. That was until he had to do the one-on-ones. The fucking Parent. Teacher. Meetings. 

The dreaded PTMs.

Some of them truly weren’t that bad. He’d meet with a teacher, they were both polite, and the teacher would sing praises about Gilyoung and Yoosung. Sure, Gilyoung had a habit of collecting harmless caterpillars during the recess block and releasing them in the class, and Yoosung was a little bossy during group projects, but apart from that they were “delightful”. 

Then, obviously, there were the actually bad ones. In third grade, they had a teacher in her seventies. She was nothing but rude that whole year, and the kids, enraged, hadn’t held back their attitude in class. 

But this year was different. Their teacher, Kang Yoojin, was the most passive-aggressive woman he’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. She was nice to most of the kids, but skimmed over Gilyoung and Yoosung like they were nothing. 

Dokja was sure their slightly non-nuclear family status played into that. Yoosung’s bright blonde hair didn’t help either, nor did Gilyoung’s appreciation of worms. 

Despite it all, he’d been as cordial as he could with the woman. He came to the fucking PTO meetings, he did his job as a class parent during field trips, and came to every bake sale. Hell, he was responsible for a good amount of the donations made by mothers from other classes, because they swarmed his madeleines constantly.

Beyond all of that, Dokja was fairly confident he knew the real reason behind her animosity towards two 10-year-olds. His very obvious position of neutrality (some could go so far as to dislike) of the feminine gender. And his very subtle position of appreciation (some could suggest attraction) towards the masculine.

To be fair, it really wasn’t his fault. 

Dokja had met what he (wrongly) assumed to be a fellow single father during the merger between Minosoft and some new tech startup. Minosoft had bought them out, so for a few months there had been some new legal staff frequenting the tech-related floors. 

Dokja had literally bumped into Kang Jiho while on his way to get a mug of coffee. He was tall, paperwork spilling out of his arms as he collided with Dokja. 

“I’m so sorry!” Dokja apologized, immediately bending down to start picking up the manilla files, which were thankfully still pretty intact. 

“No, that was my fault. I’m really sorry.” He apologized, his hand brushing over Dokja’s as he collected his work.

They’d bumped into each other like that several times around the office. In the break room, the elevator, and the bathroom. Dokja had been holding the remnants of his iced coffee one day when he literally collided with Jiho while turning a corner, the lid of the cup snapping off and ice spilling over the carpet.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry. We have to stop meeting like this.” Dokja said, hurrying to pick up the ice.

“Yeah,” Jiho said, “we really do. And it looks like I owe you a coffee now.”

From there, Dokja had gone on a tentative coffee date with Jiho. It was obvious at this point that the other man was interested in him, and Dokja couldn’t deny his attractiveness. They’d gone out to dinner exactly once in August before Jiho admitted the fact that he was in the middle of getting a divorce. Dokja was stunned (to say the least), and also extremely sure of his decision to not pursue Jiho any further. He didn’t have time to be the messy post-divorce rebound.

It wasn’t until the fifth-grade orientation day, when Dokja introduced himself to the new teacher, that he realized something was horribly wrong. Kang Jiho was not in the middle of a divorce when he’d broken the news to Dokja. He was on the first night of said legal process. 

His still-not-ex wife, Kang Yoojin, shook his hand a little too firmly, with an astounding lack of a smile, and Dokja connected the dots almost instantly. The familiar car waiting he’d parked near definitely helped with that.

Dokja was very unsure on how to approach this conflict. On one hand, he understood her anger. Why bother being nice to the man your husband rebounded with on the first night of your divorce? But on the other hand, he didn’t understand her mean nature towards his kids. Yoosung and Gilyoung didn’t even know who Jiho was. They’d done nothing wrong.

Dokja sighed and tapped his foot in the hallway, waiting for his turn with Kang Yoojin. It had been a long day at work, with plenty of slideshows to be due for the upcoming official presentation of his assistive technology to the Eunha Interactive Gaming Team.

Dokja wasn’t all that used to the business-y, proposal based presentations and meetings. He was happy programming, sitting at home munching on chips as he coded. He didn’t think the little side project he had would be received so well, but he also wasn’t about to sell the rights to the company without making sure it was programmed perfectly. 

Dokja was snapped out of his thoughts as the door slid open in front of him and two parents walked out, greeting him with a nod. He ran a hand through his hair, mentally preparing himself to hold his tongue.

“Kim Dokja-ssi, please come in.” Kang Yoojin said dryly. She’d lost her false pretense of any semblance of politeness in the first few weeks of school. Dokja sighed and walked in.

“Good evening, Kang-sunsengnim. How are you?” He asked cordially, sitting down across Yoojin’s desk. She stared at him for a moment before clicking away at her laptop.

“I’m alright, thanks.” 

Her lack of giving a fuck as to how he was doing was pretty apparent, as the silence stretched for a few beats before Dokja cleared his throat.

“Alright, we had to discuss the kids’ upcoming field trip?” He asked, folding his hands together. There was no point in formalities. 

“Yes. They will need a packed lunch for the first day, but dinner, breakfast, and lunch the next day will be provided.” She said, continuing to type on her laptop, her prim nails clacking away.

“Sure…anything else?” He asked. This literally could have been an email. Kang Yoojin seemed to get that impression, because she raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to use that tone again.

“I just felt it important to let you know personally. I know how,” she drummed her nails on the edge of the desk, “busy…you are.”

Dokja blinked as she continued to speak. 

“I’m sure it’s a less than ideal situation you’re in with those children, and I know how busy your job keeps you.” She paused. “Among other things, of course.”

Dokja choked back a stunned laugh. Was this truly how she was going to act? Be all passively-confrontational until he bowed down in front of her, begging for her forgiveness? Or would he (and his innocent kids) have to deal with this all year long?

“I’m not quite sure what you mean,” he said calmly, “Both Gilyoung and Yoosung have their homework done daily, have excellent grades, and have never failed to come to school without a neatly-packed lunch.” 

Yoojin smiled sarcastically. “Well, good job. You make them lunch. Amazing.” 

Dokja leaned forward, his hands folded in each other, and looked her dead in the eyes. “Kang Yoojin-ssi. I am extremely sorry about what happened between your…husband and I. I never knew he was married, let alone barely divorced, until the night of our first date.” He ignored her scoff.  “On which I told him the next day that I had no wish to involve myself in his life any further.” 

Kang Yoojin rolled her eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that? Why do you think we got divorced anyways?”

Dokja blinked, confused. “I spoke to him about the divorce for all of five minutes? So I don’t know.” 

“You! You, Kim Dokja, seduced my straight husband! And you have the nerve to tell me you’re sorry.” She snapped, slamming a fist on the table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Dokja asked, laughing in disbelief. “Why is your divorce suddenly my fault? I knew the man for all of two weeks before he asked me to get coffee. And a week later, you were divorced? And once again, this is my fault, so by extension, you act rude to my children?”

Kang Yoojin smiled coldly. Dokja remembered that smile from his own years of high school– entitled mean girls who poked at him, who laughed as the jocks of his class taunted him mercilessly. She sighed, her opinion clearly unwavering. “Just be thankful I haven’t told any of the others about your little gay secret.”

Dokja felt like he’d gotten slapped in the face. His smile dropped, Yoojin smirked in success. But he barely got the chance to recover, stand up, and defend himself before the door slid open with a bang.

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” Yoo Joonghyuk stated, standing in the doorway, ignoring Dokja. “That was insanely unprofessional. How are you allowed to teach?” 

Dokja stayed silent. He hadn’t seen Joonghyuk, hadn't even known Joonghyuk had to do a PTM too. And now he was mortified that Joonghyuk had heard that. And pissed off that he’d said exactly what Dokja would have.

Yoojin glared at him. “This really is unrelated to you, Joonghyuk.” She turned back to Dokja, but Joonghyuk cut her off.

“Don’t address me like you know me. And don’t you dare say another word. That was disgusting, what you did just now.” 

Dokja really didn’t need Joonghyuk to save the day, but he wasn’t about to not take an exit strategy.

“Well, Kang-sunsengnim, I think that just about concludes our meeting. Gilyoung and Yoosung will be sent with lunch. Enjoy your night.” He said plainly, not bothering with a handshake and walking out past Joonghyuk.

Who was Yoo Joonghyuk to intrude and listen to that conversation? And who was he to offer his own stance on it? 

Granted, he said it pretty well. But Dokja didn’t appreciate the bastard for making it seem like he was incompetent and unable to stand up for himself. This wasn’t high school anymore. He wouldn’t have let Kang Yoojin get away with what she’d said.

He walked down the hallway before turning around to confront his pursuer. 

“What.” He snapped at Joonghyuk, who was taken aback at his quick turnaround. “What do you need?” He asked.

Joonghyuk glared at him. “Why are you mad at me? Did you hear what she said?”

Dokja scoffed, “Yeah, loud and clear. Why did you hear her? And why did you jump in?”

Joonghyuk looked away. “You guys were both loud and clear, actually.” He ignored the second question, choosing to lean against the wall of the hallway and looking out of the window at the slowly darkening sky.

Dokja huffed. “Well, I’m sorry you had to hear that.” His voice softened. “And…I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

Dokja didn’t specify what: Kang Jiho, or the part about him being gay. Both? He guessed. Maybe a mixture of the two. He didn't want to know, didn’t care to know anymore. 

But Joonghyuk looked irritated. “Maybe think of that before airing out your messy drama during PTMs.” He looked at Dokja, and seemed surprised when Dokja stared back, his own eyes clearly upset and his mouth tensed in a tight frown.

“Kim Dokja, I didn’t mean it like that,” Yoo Joonghyuk started, but Dokja had already turned back around, walking to the stairwell with purpose, “-wait!”

Dokja ignored him. PTMs just fucking sucked.

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja knew he was missing something. It was 5:45pm, his day had been pretty shit, and it was about to get so much shittier because he knew he was forgetting something.

The morning was chaotic as usual, and Yoosung had forgotten her art project at home, which Dookja dropped off. Gilyoung didn’t touch a bite of his lunch, having been "terrorizing" Kang Yoojin, their teacher, with a beetle. So Dokja had to rush home, make the kids a snack, rush back to work, make sure Jihye had reached the apartment so she could babysit the kids for the evening. All the while, he’d been stressed over this presentation. The higher-ups at Minosoft were directly interacting with him now, and the pressure was more on than he liked. And it was Monday, which just amplified how horrible everything was. 

His phone buzzed with a notification as he sat in his car. 

“PTO Meeting at 6. Don’t Forget.” He read the alarm he’d set for himself a month earlier out loud.

His day honestly could not have gotten worse.

Upon walking into the classroom, Kim Dokja realized that no, his day was about to get so much worse. Kang Yoojin stood at the front of the classroom at her desk, ignoring Dokja as he walked in, scanning the room to find a seat. 

The last time Dokja had been in this room, his kids’ elementary school teacher confronted him about her husband's affair and their divorce. And her casual threat about his sexuality. To which Dokja cursed her out. 

He sat down, making polite small talk with some of the other parents. Maybe this meeting would be quick, Yoojin would ignore him, Jihye already helped the kids with some homework, and Dokja could whip up something easy for the four of them for dinner.

Or maybe not. Maybe, Dokja thought, somehow, his day was going to get even worse. He’d jinxed it, because Yoo Joonghyuk walked into the classroom and took a seat near the back of the classroom.

The last time Dokja had been in this room, his daughter’s best friend’s attractive older brother (slash guardian) had heard every word of aforementioned conversation, and proceeded to also curse out Kang Yoojin. To which Dokja stormed off. 

And that was the most they’d spoken since last week. Save for once, where Joonghyuk came to the apartment to pick up Mia: “I’m here for Mia”.

Sure, Dokja felt like shit for walking away like that last week. But Joonghyuk hadn’t given him the most affirming answer either. 

Call him crazy, but for a short point of time Dokja had entertained the idea of an odd tension between the two of them. It was so subtle, but once he noticed it he really couldn't stop. That first time they met, Dokja had brushed whipped cream off of Joonghyuk’s lip, and Joonghyuk had looked stunned. When they’d eaten dinner together as the kids watched TV on Friday nights, the conversation always toeing the line between friendly and flirty. The times Dokja and Yoonghyuk watched the children part with hugs (the girls kissing each other on the cheek because they were “French”) , and saying goodbye awkwardly, unsure if he should hug Joonghyuk.

Whatever that tension had been, clearly Dokja had misinterpreted it. Joonghyuk was straight, 24 and not yet mentally fully developed, and clearly irritated by Dokja’s “little gay secret.” 

Dokja was upset, in the simplest of terms. There was a sense of companionship Dokja found in Joonghyuk that he’d never had. They were in similar situations, they got along well, and the kids were more than happy with each other. And Dokja finally had someone to look to for advice. He couldn’t even imagine how Joonghyuk had managed to do it all alone. 

But that was gone now, and it would be awkward forever. Dokja tried to ignore the tugging pang in his stomach as he thought of Joonghyuk. He willed himself to ignore it, and thankfully, the PTO meeting started.

“Alright, thanks for showing up. We have some things to discuss, the first being the decision to allow kids to share food during their snack time.” Kang Woojin said. Dokja tried to stay focused for all of three minutes before he felt himself slipping into another mental pocket completely, busing himself with going over all of the work he had to do this week for the presentation next Monday.

The drive back home was sluggish. Somehow, he’d gotten out of the meeting right as it ended, avoiding Joonghyuk and Kang Yoojin completely. He rushed to his car, the sounds of polite chatter from the classroom fading as he texted Jihye to let her know he was on his way.

“Hi Ahjussi,” Jihye called out as the door opened, “The kids were extra tired today so I made them change into their pajamas after we finished homework.” The smell of warm vegetables wafted in the air, along with fresh rice. 

“Did you cook?” Dokja called out, almost crying with thankfulness. 

“Yeah, they were really hungry, so I raided the fridge to make bibimbap.” Something sizzled in a pan. “Sorry!” She said, not sounding very sorry. 

Dokja dropped his briefcase on the couch and walked into the kitchen, where Jihye was frying eggs for the bibimbap. 

“Jihye. Give your old ahjussi a hug.” He said, ruffling her hair. She squawked and pushed him away, protesting. “Thank you, so much.” He said, flopping into the kitchen chair and leaning back, finally closing his eyes. 

The soft, familiar, pit-pat of Yoosung and Gilyoung’s feet down the hallway warmed Dokja’s heart. They were equally as tired as him today, and wore their pajamas, clearly hungry.

“Hi hyung! Are you tired?” Gilyoung asked, patting him on the back. Doja nodded.

Yoosung pouted (she’d picked it up from Mia) at him. “Ahjussi, why don’t you go change? We’ll wait for you to eat.”

Dokja ruffled her hair. “No, it’s okay. Let’s all eat, so you two can get to bed and Jihye can finally get some peace.”

He stood up, setting the table, and scooping rice into each bowl. His day had managed to get much, much, better in the matter of a few minutes. 

The rest of the week passed by in a similar fashion. Thankfully, he got a full night of rest on Monday night, and the following days had been a little bit better. By Friday, leaving work, he was relaxed and ready to deliver the presentation the next time he walked into work for Eunha Gaming. 

But by Sunday the anxiety had set in. Tomorrow was the day he’d been working towards for the better half of a year. If it went bad, he would be the sole cause of Minosoft losing the business of the best buyers on the market. From there, he could probably say bye-bye to his job, and his apartment, then his kids. 

His depressing spiral of thoughts was interrupted by a text on his phone. Joonghyuk. Right.

They’d spoken a little more this week, but nothing more than cordial. Dokja texted him to pick up his sister, Joonghyuk texted him to pick up his kids. Clearly, this was the way the rest of their short-lived friendship would go.

Dokja put on a sweatshirt and white raincoat as he left the apartment. It would be good for him to go for a walk. It had been drizzling all day, the bleak, weary kind and it was finally sunny. The air smelled fresh and new, and the soft sunlight on Dokja’s face was a comfort as he walked to Joonghyuk’s house.

Walking up the driveway, he heard loud peals of laughter from the garden in the back. He decided to skip the doorbell and instead let himself in through the garden fence gate.

Yoosung and Mia sat in dresses on a little table on the patio, cups of tea steaming and a plate of cookies half eaten.

“Ahjussi!” Yoosung yelled. 

Mia corrected her. “No, that’s King Ahjussi! Come sit for our tea party!”

Dokja laughed as he walked over to them, sitting down at the table.

“Well, Princess Mia, I love your dress. And Princess Yoosung, that blue tiara really works with your hair.” 

Mia stood up and curtsied daintily as Yoosung poured him a warm cup of tea carefully from the pot in the center.

“Would you like sugar?” She asked. “And a cookie?”

“Why, I would be delighted with a cube of sugar.” He responded, playing into the bit. Mia put a cookie on his saucer and three on hers, munching away as Yoosung explained her choice in tiara. 

“See, it’s all very formal.” Mia said, reaching for another cookie. “This tea party is to celebrate Yoosung and my sister wedding.”

Yoosung nodded as Dokja blinked in confusion. 

“Would you care to enlighten me on what a sister wedding is?” He asked carefully.

Before Mia could answer, the back door opened, with Joonghyuk holding a tray of little sandwiches. 

“They’re ‘sisters’ now.” He explained plainly. He looked at Dokja for a second before looking away, clearly still affected by that damn PTM.

“Speak when spoken to, lowly servant! And thanks for the sandwiches.” Mia teased her brother as he tsked and walked back inside.

“Sisters.” Dokja repeated. 

Yoosung nodded slowly, as if he was confused for no reason. “Yes. Have a sandwich?”

Dokja accepted it silently. Great. Now the girls were ‘sisters’ it added to even more awkwardness between Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk. But the girls looked happy, and Dokja remembered how he yearned for a sibling as a child, for someone of the same flesh and blood but still different, for a companion. 

The door blasted open once again as Dokja reached for a Nutella-strawberry sandwich. They really were quite nice.

Gilyoung ran outside, a red blanket draped around his head, growling at the girls. Yoosung shrieked. “The evil dragon! He’s back!” Both girls jumped up and ran to each other’s arms. 

“Back, you beast! Leave us!” Mia yelled, kicking a few pebbles in Gilyoung's direction. He ran around them in circles, continuing to roar, then grabbed a few cookies, to which Mia gasped.

“That was my cookie!” She yelled, reaching into the dirt underneath the row of bushes and throwing a weak handful of wet mud at Gilyoung.

“Woah!” Dokja said, trying to get between the two, but pure chaos erupted as the mud dripped down Gilyoung’s blanket.

“This is war!” He screamed, reaching for mud and throwing it back at the girls, who screamed in unison. 

“My dress!” Yoosung yelled, running away from the mud. Mia seemed unaffected, now filing handfuls of mud at Gilyoung.

Dokja, in a fit of laughter, groaned as a glob of mud trailed down his raincoat.

He shouted at Gilyoung. “Hey! No attacking the King!” 

“You snooze, you lose!” Gilyoung yelled, continuing to fling mud at him now, a chunk landing on his sweatshirt.

“The knight is here to save us!” Mia cried as Joonghyuk opened the door, very irritated with all of the yelling.

“I thought I was a lowly peasant?” He asked dryly.

Yoosung corrected him. “Servant.”

“Rise to the occasion, new knight! Save your King!” Mia commanded him.

Dokja blushed as Joonghyuk looked at him, covered in mud. But a fond look spread through Joonghyuk’s eyes, and he jogged to Dokja’s side, covering him from the mud being flung in completely random directions by now.

“Hey, stop the dragon, knight.” Dokja said, poking Joonghyukaway. They hadn’t talked in two weeks and now Joonghyuk was guarding Dokja with his body? One arm in front of him, Dokja was completely covered by Joonghyuk’s back, peeking out from the side to continue watching the war going on.

“As you command, I guess.” Joonghyuk sighed, and walked over to Gilyoung, picking him up easily. “The dragon has been captured!”

The girls cheered and hugged as Gilyoung protested. 

“This is unfair!” He said. “And Mia started it,” he said, already knowing he was probably in trouble, “so I was defending myself.”

Dokja laughed. He didn’t even have it in him to be mad at them right now, even with mud all over his jacket and sweatshirt.

“I did not start it!” Mia said, her hair covered in mud. Joonghyuk groaned as he inspected the three of them, pushing them towards the door.

“Mia, you’re in so much trouble. And all three of you need a shower now.”

Dokja followed him inside, scraping the mud off of his sweatshirt and leaving his jacket inside. “You guys too,” Joonghyuk said sternly to Gilyoung and Yoosung, “go take a shower in the upstairs bathroom. I’ll leave a change of clothes.”

“Yes sir!” Gilyoung saluted. The both ran upstairs, and Joonghyu relaxed, now turning to Dokja.

“You’re pretty messy yourself.” He said, looking him up and down. Dokja suddenly felt very self-conscious. His sweatshirt had a glaring brown stain on it, and his hair was ruffled and messy from the running and moisture from the rain.

“Sorry, should I shower? Or can I just borrow something?” He asked. Joonghyuk shrugged, lifting his arms without a beat and yanking off his own sweatshirt, a black hoodie with a tiny, vaguely familiar logo stitched on the back.

“Give me yours. I had to run a load for the kids’ dirty clothes anyways.” Joonghyuk demanded, his arms crossed. 

Dokja groaned internally. Of all the days.

He wriggled out of the dirty sweatshirt, shivering as the cold air hit his skin. Joonghyuk paused, quickly taking Dokja’s sweatshirt from him and handing him his own, but still frozen in place. His eyes stayed laser focused on Dokja’s own, and then he carefully looked away, raking over his torso for a few seconds.

Dokja blushed. He didn’t think he was out of shape, maybe a little on the lower-muscle side compared to Joonhyuk, but he was lean enough to look decent, so he wasn’t sure why Joonghyuk was staring. He fumbled with the hoodie, his head getting stuck on the hood of the sweater and his sight descending into darkness.

A heavy hand stilled him, the other hand pulling at the drawstrings to make space for his head. Dokja opened his eyes to Joonghyuk hovering over him, one hand still on his shoulder and the other fixing the drawstrings. His tongue poked through his cheek, and Dokja tried not to focus on Joonghyuk’s lips.

“Um. Thanks.” Dokja managed as he leaned back. It was comfortable, definitely a little too big but warm nonetheless.

“Whatever,” Joonghyuk muttered, walking to the laundry room.

Dokja watched as the kids cuddled up together on the couch under a blanket, watching some cartoons as they whispered in hushed tones. They had managed to convince Joonghyuk into ordering takeout, so now Dokja was cleaning the dining table, where the kids had snarfed down the food. 

He carried the empty plastic containers to the kitchen, where Joonghyuk was busy rinsing off the teacups from the tea party.

“Where should I throw these?” He asked. Joonghyuk pointed to the trashcan under the corner of the island, and Dokja dumped the containers, sighing as he wiped down the last few saucers.

“They sure tired themselves out today.” Joonghyuk commented. 

Dokja nodded awkwardly. Were they talking now? This was a normal conversation, so he had to assume Joonghyuk had moved past any difficulties he had with the incident a few weeks back. 

But it also wasn’t a normal conversation, because two hours ago, Dokja had basically stripped and taken Joonghyuk’s sweatshirt, and Joonghyuk had watched him. Like really watching him. And Dokja really couldn’t assume what Joonghyuk was doing that out of. Was it curiosity? It wasn't attraction. Joonghyuk had a girlfriend, once, so that was out of the question. Maybe he just didn’t think that was weird. Straight guys didn’t think that was weird, changing in front of each other. It was normal to be shirtless.

“Too bad it’s a Sunday,” Joonghyuk said as they sat at the kitchen island, watching the kids draped over each other, “I would have said yes to that stupid interpretive dance for the sleepover they always do.” 

Dokja chuckled. “Yeah it would have been a nice and easy sleepover, the kids would be dead asleep in minutes.”

Dokja tried to ignore any thoughts of sleeping over at Joonghyuk’s house.

“I’m pretty sure Gilyoung already fell asleep, actually.” Joonghyuk said, amused. Sure enough, Gilyoung was snoring softly, curled into the couch.

“And then there were four.” Dokja joked, drumming his fingers along the countertop. 

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Dokja cleared his throat. “About that PTM.” He started, trying to avoid Joonghyuk. “I’m sorry for whatever you had to hear. You were right. It wasn’t something I should have brought to school. Please don’t… see it as a reflection of my character.” He finished awkwardly.

Joonghyuk sighed. “I didn’t mean a word of what I said.” He paused. “Not to you, anyways. I meant everything I said to Kang Yoojin.” His brows furrowed. “I really didn’t mean what I said. I was just mad that you were mad, and I was…” He trailed off.

“You were…?” Dokja offered, but Joonghyuk shook his head.

“It’s unimportant. I was just acting rashly. The things she said about you were disgusting.”

Dokja swallowed thickly. “But they were true.” He mumbled.

Joonghyuk glared at him, as if Dokja was the one in the wrong by not understanding him. “They weren’t disgusting because they were true. They were disgusting because they were weaponized against you.” He stood up, stretching his arms, and walked over to the couch, where all three of the kids were sound asleep.

Dokja didn’t know what to say. So Joonghyuk wasn’t affected in any way by Kang Yoojin’s dramatic reveal of Dokja’s personal life. If anything, he’d come to his backup. So why did he get mad at Dokja?

Dokja supposed, the better question, was why he himself got mad at Joonghyuk. He’d only been trying to help, even if it came from a place of general naivety. And he’d given Dokja a great exit strategy before he blew up in Yoojin’s face, and had to face the principal of the school before they unenrolled his kids from school.

Kang Yoo-jin had just reminded him of too many kinds of bad. A homophobic, bitched-out mean girl who never grew up past her high-school mentality. Dokja had seen the type, had feared the type. But that truly wasn’t the case anymore. A part of him really wanted to stand up and curse her out

But another part of him, a small, secret part, was thankful Joonghyuk walked in. Because as confident as Dokja was in his newfound self-worth, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut when Yoojin said her last bit. And that one sentence had brought him back to high school all those years ago, and he’d felt every same inch of fear he had then. 

If anything, the fear was amplified– because now he had something to lose. His kids went to school here, and Dokja couldn’t let them be affected by the failures in his personal life. It was unfair, but entirely possible. 

If anything, he should have thanked Joonghyuk. Why didn’t he thank him?

“Hey, come help me get the kids to the car.” Joonghyuk said, scooping both Mia and Yoosung up in his arms and walking to the door.

“I didn’t drive here.” Dokja said, following him after picking up Gilyoung regardless. Damn. He really needed to work out more. The kids were starting to get big. 

He watched Joonghyuk, with Mia over his shoulder and Yoosung in his arms. How was he doing that?

Damn his old age. Dokja’s back had been really weird these last few months.

Joonghyuk led them to the garage, where he slid the two girls into the backseat and gently started buckling them in. Dokja’s heart softened. At the end of the day, he really was such a good guardian.

They were quiet as the car rumbled on, three kids snoring peacefully in the backseat. Joonghyuk stretched his arm out to Dokja’s head, his face concentrated as he backed out of his driveway. 

He was truly an attractive man. Chiseled jawline, long eyelashes, and a sharp look to his face that made you shiver. Dokja faced forward, trying to ignore how he was barely an inch away from Joonghyuk’s bicep suffocating him. 

They drove silently for a minute before Dokja laughed. 

“It’s so Joonghyuk of you to drive such a mom car.” He teased. The large, family-focused SUV had four cupholders in the front.

Joonghyuk tsked. “It was the safest.” He said, carefully turning left. He didn’t even need directions to the apartment.

“That’s so sweet,” Dokja said, still amused, “I bet the other moms just adore your car.”

Joonghyuk shrugged. “I try to avoid them.” 

“Oh yeah”, Dokja remembered awkwardly, “I finally saw you at one of the PTO meetings this week.” Dokja had dutifully ignored Joonghyuk, but to be fair, Joonghyuk had made no effort to speak either.

Joonghyuk hummed. “Yeah.”

They pulled into the underground parking lot of his apartment, where Joonghyuk parked in the guest parking lot. “The neighborhood is safe, right?” He asked.

Dokja nodded. “We just had to be scanned in by security at the front gate. It’s very safe!” He reassured him. “Why?” He asked, as an afterthought. “Planning to move here or something?” He joked.

“No. I didn’t want to leave Mia alone in a dangerous place.” Joonghyuk said as he picked up Gilyoung.

Dokja waved him away. “I can take them both! Thanks for offering.” He said casually. Joonghyuk either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, because he closed his side of the door, leaving Dokja standing, Yoosung gathered in his arms. 

He scooped her up, struggling, and trailed behind Joonghyuk as he walked to the elevator. They stood in silence as the soft rumbling of the elevator thrummed in the concrete walls.

Joonghyuk walked in first, pressing the button for Floor 9 and making space in the small elevator for Dokja.

“Thanks again.” Dokja said, his eyes glued to the small screen displaying which floor they were on, and watching it tick: five, six, seven. It was slowing down.

Joonghyuk nodded in response, stepping forward before the elevator doors opened, clearly eager to get out.

They walked down the hallway, and Dokja was thankful his apartment was so close to the elevator. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, nudging himself in front of Joonghyuk to push the door open.

The light flicked on, and Joonghyuk toed his shoes off to walk to Gilyoung’s room. Dokja followed, laid down Yoosung in her bed and tucked her in. She was wearing a set of Mia’s pajamas, and had already brushed her teeth.

Dokja came outside to find Joonghyuk at the door, putting his shoes back on. Dokja stood in the foyer, doing the same.

“I’ll walk you down.” He said.

“Okay.” Joonghyuk said carefully.

The elevator ride down was silent. Dokja watched the floor numbers tick down. It slowed to a stop, once again. Joonghyuk got off first, and Dokja trailed behind him again to the car.

“Kim Dokja.” Joonghyuk said, his eyebrows furrowed as he spun around to confront him. Dokja raised an eyebrow. “I was jealous.”

Dokja blinked. “What?”

“Earlier. I was jealous.” He said again, with finality. Joonghyuk turned back around, opening the car door.

Dokja grabbed his arm, turned him around. “Wait!”  Joonghyuk’s eyes shifted– he looked at the side wall, unwilling to look at Dokja. “What- what does that mean?”

Joonghyuk was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. “It’s not that complicated.” He hissed, his jaw clenching.

“No, but it is, Yoo Joonghyuk.” Dokja argued, pulling Joonghyuk in closer by the fabric of Joonghyuk’s sleeve he’d bunched up in his arm. “Jealous of who?”

His eyes were heavy and irritated. “Forget it.” Joonghyuk mumbled.

“You can’t just say that and leave it at that-”

“Kang Jiho.”

Dokja couldn’t think of a response. Joonghyuk had been pissed off that night…because he’d been jealous? Of Kang Jiho?  His confusion clearly showed, because Joonghyuk groaned in frustration, the tips of his ears tinted red.

“I…don’t understand.” Dokja said slowly. But he did understand a little. At the same time, he didn’t want to really go down that rabbit hole at all. If he started spiraling, started obsessing over every little thing about Joonghyuk, Dokja didn’t think he would ever stop. He didn’t want to consider the possibility of Joonghyuk being jealous of a man he’d gone on a date with.

“You fool.” Joonghyuk said, but there was no snark to it. His eyes were less harsh now, lips curved up at the edges, and the warmth in his ears had slowly spread to his face.

Dokja swallowed, suddenly becoming intensely aware of how he was still holding onto Joonghyuk’s arm, how close their faces were.

Joonghyuk’s eyes dropped down to his lips, and Dokja stilled for a second. He felt like a butterfly had landed on him, he was so still. And all of a sudden, he found his own eyes fluttering closed, his body moving closer to Joonghyuk's, his hard gripping Joonghyuk’s firm bicep.

“Oppa?” He heard a soft whisper from the backseat. Dokja jumped back so quickly he hurt his head on the roof of the car. Mia was rubbing her eyes sleepily, yawning. “Whasgoingon?”

Joonghyuk inhaled sharply. “We had to drop off your friends. Go back to sleep.” 

Dokja stumbled back, unsure of what to do now. Had Mia seen them? Had Joonghyuk just realized what was going on?

Joonghyu slid into the driver's seat, turning the car back on. 

“I’m still wearing your sweatshirt..?” Dokja managed to say weakly. 

Joonghyuk shrugged. “Keep it.”

Dokja woke up feeling unnaturally well-rested. The events of the previous night were wiped from his mind as soon as his head hit the pillow. He couldn’t let himself think about whatever that was-- he didn’t want to put a name to it. He had a presentation to absolutely ace today.

The kids, to their credit, knew that today was an important day. They’d been angels all morning, not needing to be woken up and not arguing over who forgot to close the lid on the toothpaste.

“How are you feeling, hyung?” Gilyoung asked as he helped Dokja rinse off the plates from breakfast. 

Dokja shrugged. “I think it’ll be alright.”

It was not going to be alright. Up until now, Dokja had barely interacted with the gaming team he was to be presenting said product to. If anything, the gamers would get a separate run-down. This presentation was directly to the primary team’s manager, and the team’s higher-ups.

Sure, there were email threads at the start with tons of people from Eunha cc’ed, but who looked through those? Dokja barely answered his emails, let alone check the paragraph of other people in the email thread.

In the bathroom of the office, he splashed his face with water, trying to get himself back in presentation mode. So what if he read over the email thread in curiosity of who he’d actually be presenting to. It didn’t hurt to learn names. 

He had scrolled past the familiar ones from his own company, slowing down when he reached the chunk of emails with eunha.org. 

[email protected]

What were the odds? Dokja chuckled. The initials were an awkward reminder of his night before. But the profile picture was a familiar blob, and Dokja clicked on it, curious.

It was a selfie he’d seen many times– Yoo Joonghyuk in a rare smile as a younger Mia held the camera too close to their faces, her cheeks smushed next to his. His heart stopped for a moment. What were the odds.

Dokja had almost stopped breathing, and then in a fit of bravery, dared himself to confirm his suspicions by opening up his phone’s browser and typing in his name.

[Yoo Joonghyuk (better known by his gamertag, Supreme King) aged 24, is a South Korean professional gamer. He currently plays for the well-established Eunha Interactive, and is the primary player of the Eunha Interactive Gaming Team. ]

Dokja, with a pool of acid churning in his stomach, clicked off of Wikipedia and went to  ‘images’.

A grey loading screen, then: Yoo Joonghyuk, medals around his neck as he stood, stoic on a podium. Yoo Joonghyuk, in the same hoodie currently lying on Dokja’s bed, streaming in a basement, brows furrowed in concentration. Yoo Joonghhyuk.

Dokja tried not to freak out. He really did. So now he was here, realizing that the man he’d almost ... .something-ed with last night would be the primary and most important user of the technology Dokja had put his whole being into over the last year.

It was probably better that he was finding out now before Eunha’s members walked in, Yoo Joonghyuk with them, and Dokja thought the whole thing was some funny prank.

Dokja took a deep breath, fixing his hair one last time and staring himself down in the mirror.

It was fairly easy to ignore Joonghyuk during the presentation. Dokja was amused when the other tried to meet his eyes various times, no doubt bewildered that Dokja was the mind behind this new technology his company was considering. Dokja stayed focused on Eunha’s actual CEO and Joonghyuk’s supposed team manager.

The presentation went smoothly. Too smoothly, if Dokja said so himself. 

“Thank you for your consideration. I’ll answer any questions related to the product, it’s workability, and integration within your system now.” He said, finally relaxing. This part was fine. He truly knew the technology, NunAI, inside and out. He’d built it, from a concept to a product.

“Slide 12.”

Dokja didn’t have to look to recognize that voice. Who else would ever start a question as a command? He met Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes, raising an eyebrow.

“Which part of Slide 12?” He asked, scrolling back to it in the presentation. Joonghyuk didn’t take his eyes off of him, ignoring the slideshow.

“The dip at the midpoint in the graph. You said the AI ‘self-corrects.’ That assumes ideal behavior.” He said sharply. Dokja saw the team manager close her eyes, looking distressed already.

“It assumes repeated exposure, not ideal play.” Dokja responded smoothly. He was surprised Joonghyuk had even been paying attention. 

“So it punishes inconsistency.” Joonghyuk stated, clearly skeptical.

“It responds to it.” Dokja corrected, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. 

 Joonghyuk paused, tsking in the way that he did. “That’s not the same thing.”

Dokja paused as well, trying to explain the AI’s response mechanism, before one of the programmers from Minosoft spoke up. 

“The model weighs outliers less over time.” He offered, obviously nervous. Dokja nodded at him, thankful, but Joonghyuk ignored it with a scoff.

“Unless the outlier’s your carry.” He quipped. His manager glared at him.

Dokja jumped in without a beat. "Then it adapts faster.” Two could play at this game. Did Joonghyuk really want to scrutinize the technology against the person that knew it best? 

Joonghyuk wasn’t able to respond to that. “Slide 15. Failure states.” He didn’t let Dokja get to the slide before adding,  “You glossed over that.” Dokja tried not to roll his eyes.

“Because it’s boring.” He replied bluntly.

Joonghyuk was clearly unamused. “It’s where things break.”

“And that’s why NunAI removes itself completely instead of trying to recover at that time.” Dokja said with a smile. Eunha’s CEO nodded at him, clearly impressed.

Joonghyuk hummed, a false casualness to his tone as he spoke once again. “The scrim example you showed—second round, late push.” This was important. Dokja stayed alert as he waited for Joonghyuk to voice another concern. “That wasn’t cherry-picked?” Joonghyuk asked.

Dokja shook his head. “Not at all. That match actually ended poorly.”

“Yet the assisted adjustment stuck.” Joonghyuk said slowly, inspecting the slide once again. 

“That’s the point.” Dokja explained.

Joonghyuk stilled, clearly thinking it over. 

“Can I answer any more questions?” He said politely. 

“Do you mind returning to the analyst dashboard slide? Sorry, I’m not sure which one it was.” The team manager piped as Joonghyuk focused back on the screen, ready to argue once again.

“Too clean.” He interrupted before Dokja could re-explain the slide. The manager inhaled sharply.

“You want noise?” Dokja asked tentatively.

“I want honesty.” Joonghyuk responded, his tongue poked out the side of his cheek and brows furrowed, voice controlled but a hint of something else underneath.

Honesty.

“We can definitely give your team raw layers.” Dokja offered to the table. Eunha’s CEO nodded again.

Joonghyuk wasn’t satisfied. “Shouldn’t you have that already?” He asked coolly. Dokja really wanted to include the raw data, but didn’t want to over-explain the process of normalizing the data. 

“We didn’t want to overwhelm in the first pass. This was supposed to be an introductory look to NunAI.” Dokja responded as honestly as he could. 

But Joonghyuk just scoffed instead. “I’m not first pass. Don’t give me the filtered shit.”

His manager whispered a remark sharply.

Dokja tried to stay calm. “I can send over the raw layers. I can send someone to do that now, actually.” But Eunha’s CEO raised his hand dismissively. 

“No need. I think we are all thoroughly impressed with the product and its use. I have no serious complaints with anything– so if Minosoft is ready, I’d like to move further and start testing its integration into our software.” He said, standing up and buttoning the blazer of his suit.

Dokja suppressed a smile. He didn’t want to look overly desperate or too joyful, but he was pretty damn happy.

“Thank you so much again,” The Minosoft CTO said as she stood up, walking over the Eunha CEO and shaking his hand, “we’re glad you found the product to your liking.”

He grinned. “The one who seems to like it the most is our gamer here, actually.” He pointed to Joonghyuk who glared at him. 

His manager laughed. “You sure asked a lot of questions for someone who's been following the product timeline so eagerly!”

Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. “Sue me,” he said, standing and buttoning his own blazer, “I’m thorough.”

“You weren’t even supposed to be here.” Eunha’s CEO teased, chuckling, and turned to Dokja. “Dokja-ssi, did you know he asked to come? He said he 'wanted the run down from the man who actually made it'.”

“Oh, did he?” Dokja echoed faintly, staring at Joonghyuk, who refused to meet his eyes. “Well, I’m glad he liked it.”

“Like it? I haven’t gotten to try it yet.” Joonghyuk responded dryly, looking Dokja up and down dismissively. 

Dokja’s heart stuttered. Coming out of presentation mode, he just realized that Joonghyuk was going to be someone he was working with very, very closely over the next few months. And right now, there was clearly some underlying subtext related to last night.

The manager noticed it, because she stepped in between them with a smile. 

“I think we should all get lunch to celebrate!” She said, clearing the air. The meeting party had started to filter out, leaving a few of the core team members from Minosoft and a few from Eunha.

“Absolutley,” Minosoft’s CTO said smoothly, “There’s an excellent gaejang place our office frequents.”

Dokja finally exhaled as he walked outside, the cool air rushing through his lungs. He walked alone until he felt Joonghyuk’s arm brush against his, and looked to his side.

“Kim Dokja.” He said, an awkward, tight grimace-smile on his face. 

“Yoo Joonghyuk.” Dokja said, not sure of what to say next. 

He could ask the obvious. How long did he know Dokja had worked here? Had developed this product? Did he never find it worth mentioning? Was he only getting to know Dokja for the sake of some insight on the project’s status and if it was being pitched to other companies? Did they almost kiss last night? Did Joonghyuk want the sweatshirt back? (That’s where that damn logo was from. It was the Eunha logo. Dokja almost wanted to laugh). Questions raced through Dokja’s mind. He had questions he wanted to ask, and answers he knew he wouldn’t get from Joonghyuk.

“Do you like gaejang?” Joonghyuk asked casually. Dokja relaxed. He could work with this, the awkward small talk. It was better than the sharp critiques of NunAI, and much better than discussing last night.

“Yeah, I do.” He said awkwardly. “The, um, side dishes here are good.”

“Neat.” Joonghyuk responded, wincing visibly.

Dokja grinned. “What are you, forty? Who even says neat anymore?” Dokja teased, chuckling as he blew on his cold hands.

Joonghyuk frowned. “You’re 31.” 

“Damn,” Dokja mumbled, “what is that…Six-?”

“Seven.” Joonghyuk corrected him. “Seven years apart.” He coughed, the tips of his ears a faint red.

“Wow, someone really did their homework,” Dokja teased lightly. But when Joonghyuk blushed and looked away in response, his jaw clenched, Dokja felt his heart swoop, like an acrobat being swung by their partner on those large, swinging bars. “Oh.” He said Very Intelligently.

Joonghyuk just huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. In his suit, he really did clean up nicely. His hair was combed down, his usual wavy curls resting tame. The suit was fitted nicely, and Dokja thought about how he’d held Joonghyuk’s bicep last night, his fingertips tensing over the firm ridge of muscle. He once again held back the urge to grab his bicep and squeeze it. 

It was good they finally stepped into the restaurant, for had they been out a second longer Dokja might have been cold enough to do something of the sort. But for now, he mused, he’d have to stick with playing it cool and casual.

Chapter Text

It seemed like all he was doing these days was attending these PTO meetings. With the upcoming winter break, there was much homework to be assigned, and Dokja was just glad he wouldn’t have to go to one of these things anytime soon. 

He sat in his usual seat, near the side of the classroom next to one of the tall windows. Outside, the wind howled, and Dokja thought of the kids at home, Lee Jihye probably helping them with homework now. 

He was glad she was doing better. Over the last year, Jihye had transformed into what Dokja thought she’d been like before her accident. Cool, cheerful, and a little snarky when she wanted to be. She’d started playing music again and talked about going back to competitive swimming, a sport she’d done with Na Bori.

Dokja had caught Jihye silently crying once as she watched Yoosung watch a cartoon on TV. He hadn’t asked, but just offered her a hug. 

“I used to watch this with her,” she said quietly, after her tears had dried and her eyes were rimmed with red. “Bori hated his show, but I made her watch it. And she never complained the way I did.” Jihye spoke of her with a fond smile on her face, with a trembling, watery, laugh. 

Dokja let her speak, just nodding and rubbing her arm gently. Jihye relaxed, looking peaceful. “Wow.” She said, stunned. “That’s the first time I’ve said her name since the accident.”

Dokja smiled. “It hurts to remember her. But it would hurt more to forget.” He paused, careful with her words. “What else did she like?”

Jihye smiled sadly. “She liked pink nail polish, the glittery kind. And getting tteokbokki after swim practice.” Her smile grew wider. “Oh god, swim. Bori loved the water.”

“Did you both swim together?” He asked.

Jihye shrugged. “I only did it because she wanted me to.” 

“Do you still..?” Dokja asked, unsure. Was this crossing a line? He didn’t want to overwhelm the girl, but he understood the process of grief very, very, well. 

Jihye deflated. “No, I quit.” 

The next week, Dokja gave her a big hug when she told him she was joining swim again. She’d shared the news, trying to sound casual, but her voice wavering.

“It’s what Bori would have wanted me to do.” She said, pushing around a stray carrot in her empty plate.

Dokja smiled. “Yes, it is.”

With Lee Jihye’s father gone so often, there would be no one at her swim meets. Dokja was sure she had her friends, but having your parents around was different. He wanted to be there for her. Maybe not at her first one, but once she was feeling better about it. He wanted to go with a little sign, cheering her on with the rest of his friends. 

Dokja didn’t realise how lonely she must have been until she started to visit his apartment more often. He wondered how she got through the first few weeks of the death alone. Without her parents, her friends. Had she been like Dokja? Wracked with guilt, contemplating the futility and worth of her own life?

Whatever it was, Dokja knew he had to be there for her. And clearly, she’d done well.

A scrape of the chair next to him startled him. He turned to see Yoo Joonghyuk back from the restroom, sitting at the desk next to him.

“Kim Dokja.” He said, nodding.

“Yoo Joonghyuk.” Dokja said in response. “How was work?” 

Joonghyuk soured. 

NunAI had been reviewed by Eunha and determined to be absolutely integral to the team, so the next phase of the plan was being put into motion now. That meant Dokja was either at the Eunha Interactive Headquarters, or Joonghyuk and his team were at the Minosoft Headquarters.

If the disapproving tone Joonghyuk had set in the first meeting was supposed to correlate with how much he liked the tool, by this point, Dokja could assume he loved it. Because he was being an absolute asshole at work everyday.

If anything, he was also a wrong asshole, because today, he’d gone off at Dokja at Eunha for the assistive adjustment layering, and Dokja had frostily corrected him in a pretty humiliating manner. 

Sure, was it impolite to do? Maybe. And was it worse because they were at Eunha, in front of the people that treated Joonghyuk like a god? Definitely.

But Joonghyuk had been pissed off, which caused a great deal of happiness to Dokja. Recently, they’d been closer than ever, with the almost-kiss being a thing of the past. They could be called friends, and Dokja was okay with that. Really.

Joonghyuk sighed next to him, leaning back in the small chair and crossing his arms. 

Really. He was fine. 

The meeting was about to end, and Doja could not have been more thankful. The whole time, he’d felt eyes at the back of his head, some turning around to whisper about the two sitting together.

Dokja wasn’t sure why people were still paying attention to him when Joonghyuk was there, but he shrugged it off. Joonghyuk looked irritated, his brows furrowed and jaw clenched in that typical way.

He nudged him gently, “Joonghyuk-ah, if you clench your jaw any longer your teeth will start hurting,” he whispered.

Joonghyk nudged him back. “If this meeting goes on any longer, my head will start hurting.” He mumbled.

Dokja reached into his bag. “My head already hurts. I have Advil?” He offered. Joonghyuk waved his hand dismissively.

“No Advil. Only alcohol could get me through this bullshit.” 

Dokja laughed, forgetting to be quiet, and blushed as the surrounding parents turned to look at them. 

“Anything to add, Kim Dokja-ssi?” Kang Yoojin asked dryly. She sure sounded like a teacher you’d hate. 

Dokja shrugged sweetly, feigning innocence. “Not a thing.”

“Alright, then this meeting is concluded.” Yoojin said, standing up and starting to take individual questions from a few parents.

Dokja stood up as well, stretching. “Damn,” he groaned, twisting his back, “these chairs are not good for me.” Joonghyuk chuckled. “Hey, one day you’ll be 31 yourself, then I’ll laugh at you.”

“Oh yeah?” Joonghyuk challenged. “You’ll almost be 40 by then.” 

“Wow, Dokja-ssi, you’re 40? You don’t look a day over 33!” One of the mothers nearby said to him. She eyed Joonghyuk up and down, then did the same to Dokja. 

Dokja ignored Joonghyuk's stifled snort. “Actually, I’m 31.”

The woman blushed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” 

Another woman, Kim Yesol, walked up to them. Dokja liked her. She was sweet, made great cupcakes, and had actually been nice to Dokja without ever flirting with him.

“Yesol-ssi, hi!” He said enthusiastically. Joonghyuk stayed silent, just nodding at her. Yesil greeted him cheerfully. “Hi Dojka-ssi! It’s been a while! You’ve just been running away after each meeting.” She turned to Joonghyuk. “And you never stay back, ever. What’s going on, Yoo Jooonghyuk-ssi?”

Joonghyuk shrugged, clearly unsure of what to say. 

Dokja jumped in. “Oh, I made him stay. He’s my ride home.” he said truthfully. But Yesol’s eyes widened, in confusion, then a subtle interest. 

“Oh, is he? So he was your ride here as well..?”

Dokja gulped. “Only for today…we, um, work together..?” he tried to explain. But Yesol had noticed his apprehension, and was smiling like she didn’t believe him.

“Ah.” she said, nodding at Joonghyuk, who just glared at Dokja. “Well, I'll let you both go now. Take care!” She said, giggling as she went off.

Doja groaned internally. 

“Did you really have to say that?!” Joonghyuk asked, annoyed as they drove to Dokja’s apartment. 

“You weren't saying anything, if you remember, Mr.Chatty.” Dokja said, scowling. “I told the truth! You’re the one who goes on and on about honesty.”

Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. “Not the same thing.”

“Whatever.” He grabbed his bag as the car rolled to a stop, “See you on Thursday.” he said, turning to leave.

“Thursday?”

“Do you ever remember anything important? We have a playdate.” Dokja argued, annoyed. Joonghyuk raised his eyebrow as Dokja blushed. “Not we, I mean-”

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll see you.” He said, driving off with a little smirk.

That bastard.

“I don’t know, Ahjussi,” Jihye said, doing her own homework as the kids did theirs. “It’s just so annoying. Why does he have to sit next to me?” She ranted, scribbling angrily next to the parabolas she was ignoring. 

Dokja sighed. “What is this kid’s name again?”

Jihye rolled her eyes. “Some freak with white hair. He’s new. But why me?” 

Jihye, funnily enough, was big into gaming. Some regional team had picked her up, and she was starting to get pretty good at it. 

“White hair?” Yoosung asked. “Is he old?” 

Jihye rolled her eyes. “No, he’s like, in my grade. But mentally, he’s totally 12.” 

Gilyoung shrugged. “I wish I was mentally 12.” 

“You’ll get there one day, buddy.” Dokja said, rubbing his shoulder.

Jihye had to leave early that night, so dinner was a silent affair, with Dokja asking them about their lessons in preparation for the upcoming, long awaited field trip.

“I’m the most excited for the sea lions.” Yoosung declared, stabbing an innocent piece of broccoli with her fork. “Wait, no,” she said, “The jellyfish.”

Gilyoung scooped rice into his mouth energetically. “You know what they call lobsters, hyung? The cockroach of the sea!”

Dokja wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ah, do they?” He asked, trying not to lose his appetite now. Thankfully, dinner was mostly over, with Yoosung struggling to eat her broccoli without complaining about how much she hated it. “If you don’t finish that, you can say bye to that playdate on Thursday.”

Yoosung sighed dramatically. 

On the kitchen island, Dokja sliced onions and zucchini for jajangmyeon.  Yoosung did well finishing her broccoli when she was with Mia, he thought. What was that about? 

“Are you wondering why Yoosung is eating her broccoli so well?” Joonghyuk asked, materializing behind him. Dokja stilled. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Joonghyuk. If he leant back a few inches, he’d fall into Joonghyuk’s chest. Cool and composed, he reminded himself. Dokja also ignored how Joonghyuk, most of the time, knew exactly what he was thinking. Was he that easy to read? Dokja thought he had a decent poker face, especially when it came to things as silly as watching kids eat broccoli.

“Yeah, I am.” Dokja admitted, laughing. 

Joonghyuk shrugged. “I guess I just cook it that much better than you. She doesn’t even look like she hates it.” He bragged.

Dokja turned his shoulder over, looking up at Joonghyuk with a half-confused, half-surprised smile. “How do you know she hates broccoli?”

A pause. Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. “Kim Dokja, the way you were watching her eat broccoli, you looked like it was a god descending onto Earth.”

“I’m done with my broccoli!” Yoosung shouted. “Can we finally go watch TV now?” 

Joonghyuk nodded and the kids ran from the kitchen to the living room, still visible from across the open-space house. Dokja watched as they selected a TV channel. When had their playdates turned into this? Doing homework, watching TV, eating dinner? Was this normal?

He hummed along to the cartoon’s intro theme as he sliced an onion, his eyes burning and starting to water. “Ow.” he grumbled, trying to squeeze back tears.

“Weak.” Joonghyuk commented. 

Dokja turned around, eyes red and tears clung to his eyelashes. “You cut them then, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Joonghyuk looked at his eyes, clearly amused by his incompetence, and turned around. “No.”
“Why?”

“I’m the better cook. I have to be the one in control of the flame. You stick to cutting vegetables.” He ordered.

“You’re boiling noodles!” Dokja protested. Joonghyuk ignored him.

He turned back, trying to hold himself back from crying as he sliced more onions. “Shit!” He said, as the burning became unbearable, rushing to the side.

Joonghyuk turned to him, looking immensely condescending. “It’s an onion.” He stated.

“No shit.” Dokja mumbled, fanning his eyes with his hands. 

With a cartoon playing in the background, crying, Dokja thought of Jihye just a few months ago in the same situation, and couldn’t help but laugh.

Joonghyuk looked seriously worried now. “Are you stable? Like, mentally?” He asked.

“No,” Dokja said, “It’s nothing.” He wiped his eyes. “One of my…friends? She was crying in my kitchen the same way a few months ago, with the same show on too.”

Joonghyuk turned back to his noodles, suddenly occupied with watching the water do its thing.

“Friends?” He echoed. 

Dokja shrugged. “I kind of adopted Lee Jihye, but she’s not much younger to you!” He winced as he heard the words. “I don’t know why I said that. She's our babysitter, but she practically lives with us at this point.” He explained awkwardly.

Joonghyuk looked both slightly startled (by the age thing) and very confused. “Lee Jihye?” He asked. “Huh.” And he turned back wordlessly.

Dokja glared at him.” You can’t just say ‘Huh’ like that and then ignore it.” He argued.

“Did you finish chopping the zucchini?” Joonghyuk nagged. Dokja was about to lie through his teeth before Joonghyuk spoke up again. “She’s just my intern.”

These days, Dokja had been thinking ‘What are the odds’ an awful lot of times. 

“Shit. What are the odds?” He said. “She’s your intern? Like coffee, or like real gaming?” He asked. Slowly, working with Joonghyuk and Eunha, he’d started to understand how gaming worked as a sport and industry.

“Gaming. She mostly spends time watching me. Notes and whatever.” Joonghyuk shrugged. “But she gets me coffee if I ask, so.” 

Dokja ignored his comment. “That must mean she’s really good, right?”

Joonghyuk scoffed. “If she gets me coffee?”

“No, you asshole. If she’s your intern.” Dokja mused. “She’s on some other team right now, but she doesn’t love it. ‘Too many restraints’, she says.”

Joonghyuk nodded. “I think Eunha wants to make her an offer for the new rookie team.”

Dokja’s jaw dropped. If Jihye had told him this news a year ago, before he understood the significance they had in the Esport industry, he’d have high-fived her like an idiot. 

“Are you serious?!” He asked, excited. Joonghyuk nodded. “God, we have to throw a party! Heewon will explode.” Dokja was already planning the details. She’d be at home one day, get a call, scream, and everyone would pop out from Dokja’s room and scream ‘Congratulations!’

“Heewon.” Joonghyuk mumbled. 

“Another friend. She taught Jihye taekwondo. I really want to get Yoosung in it too.” Dokja explained.

Joonghyuk poured chicken stock into the pan. “You have… a lot of friends.” He said blandly. Dokja hadn’t thought of them as friends in a long time. They were more like family. 

“Not really,” he admitted. “They’re family to me.”

“Oppa, this zucchini looks so ugly.” Mia complained as she poked at her food. They’d just sat down to eat, and Dokja was ready to dig in. The food smelled amazing, and he didn’t want to side with Joonghyuk, but maybe he was just a better cook.

Joonghyuk scoffed. “You can thank your Ahjussi for that.” 

“Don’t insult me! I’m barely 30…” Dokja whined. Why was everyone acting like he was so damn old? He took a bite of the jjajangmyeon. The spicy, earthy flavor of the sauce richly coated the thick, perfectly cooked udon noodles. “Fuck, that’s good.” Doja groaned, leaning back into his chair.

“That’s a bad word!” Mia said, delighted. Yoosung slurped her noodles, sauce flying on her face.

“I’m old, so I’m allowed to say that.” Dokja explained. “Wow, Joonghyuk, this is so good.”

Joonghyuk looked bored. “Its the same as it always is.” He said, taking a bite of his own food and chewing. “That zucchini was cut so weird.” He said, inspecting Dokja. But Dokja found nothing in his eyes but amusement. 

“My tears were distracting me! And you didn’t help.” Dokja said, smiling innocently. Gilyoung gasped. 

“Hyung, you were crying? What happened?” He asked, extremely concerned. 

Mia slammed her fork down, pointing at her brother. “You made Ahjussi cry!” She said, standing up and slamming her fist on the table. “Vengance!” She cried out.

“Mia-yah, noo!” Dokja said, laughing. “Relax, relax.”

Joonghyuk shook his head. “I’ve been letting you watch too many dramas.”

“But Ahjussi, why were you crying?” Yoosung asked. 

“Onions.” Joonghyuk explained, which did absolutely nothing for ten-year-olds. “They make you cry..?” He said, expecting understanding and receiving three blank stares.

Dokja pushed him playfully. “You’re so stupid, Joonghyuk-ah. How would they know that?” He took another amazing bite of the food. “The skin in onions irritates your eyes, so you can’t help but cry. It’s natural!” Dokja explained. 

“I never cry.” Joonghyuk muttered, eating a sliver of onion.

Chapter Text

“Love you too babe.” Han Sooyoung said, closing the door as Yoo Sanghah walked out, Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung scampering ahead of her. It was a sunny Saturday at Sooyoung’s house, and Dokja stretched from his spot on the couch as Sooyoung came back to the living room. 

“Thank god.” Dokja said, rubbing his temple. “They were driving me nuts before I came here, and I need them to blow off some steam.” He yawned, finally relaxed now that the kids were out of the house and there was blissful silence. 

Sooyoung barked out a laugh as she plopped down onto the floor, sinking into the soft, fuzzy rug and stretching in the sunlight like a feline. “Sangah’s more than happy to.” She said, rolling her eyes. “She loves those kids.”

“Those kids? Or just kids?” Dokja probed. The topic of children was a risky one. Ever since Dokja had adopted Yoosung and Gilyoung, Sooyong and Sangah had been practically as involved in parenthood as he was. First the legal matter of it all, which Sangah had spearheaded expertly. Then came the whole parenting aspect of it. Dokja’s primary approach had just been to do whatever his own parents and aunt had NOT done, and Sooyoung was equally clueless in that department as well. Sangah’s very normal childhood was probably the only reason why Dokja got a good idea on what a ‘good’ parent had to be.

In retrospect, Sangah was probably the closest thing to a mother for the kids. Kim Dokja was constantly glad they had a relationship with her, because Dokja wasn’t sure if he was doing enough to act as a father, let alone cover being a mother.

He owed a lot to Yoo Sangah. She was absolutely someone who adored children– which brought them back to the reason for the uncomfortable conversation.

Sooyoung shrugged, reaching for her drink. “She’s not like me. She’s meant to take care of other people.” She waved her hands as Dokja raised his eyebrow. “Not like that, I take care of her well enough.” She sighed. “I just don’t think I can be responsible for raising another person. Yoo Sangah is good. Like she’s a good person, and she would raise a good person, probably an even better person.” 

Dokja nodded. “...And you? You think you’re not?”

“You know what I mean. I’m messed up. I barely was able to raise myself. I don’t know, Dokja. I can’t do it.” She said, faltering. 

As much as Dokja wanted to tell her she was wrong, he couldn’t. He, and he knew at times, Sooyoung, had both been surprised at the exposure of Sangah’s insanely normal, nuclear, childhood. 

He felt guilty as he thought about it, but Dokja hadn’t gone into the process of adopting children for any reason other than the fact that there were two children he cared for very dearly that needed to be adopted. He couldn’t just stand there and watch as they were forced into the foster system, so he’d made te idiotic leap to try and raise them himself. 

Sooyoung was probably right, which is why, once again, Dokja owed his life to Sangah. 

“You can feel that way, but Yoosung and Gilyoung are as much your children as they are mine, and Sangah too, for that matter. You might not feel that way, but I do. And so do they.” Dokja tried explaining. 

But he knew nothing he could say could change Sooyoung’s mind all of a sudden, so he wasn’t surprised when she shrugged and changed the topic in a flash, clearly finished with the topic.

“Enough about Sangah and I. What about you?” She groaned, kicking back her legs onto Dokja’s lap as she busied herself with another glass of wine. 

“What about me?” Dokja repeated, confused. Sooyoung gave him a look, her eyes accusing and irritated.

“As much as we love them, we aren’t always there.” 

“You guys do your best! And I appreciate the help.” Dokja argued. Sangah was great about helping the kids with homework, coming to school events, and being the closest thing to a mother the kids had. And Sooyoung–well, she was Sooyoung, and that meant she was there in her own way.

“Not like that, Dokja. I mean why don’t you get out there? Get to know someone?” She offered. “It’s not like the kids are young enough to not understand. And you aren’t completely ugly, so it can’t be as hard as you make it look.” 

Dokja sighed. Talking about this was as uncomfortable as it must be for Sooyoung to talk about raising children, so it was probably something that needed to be talked about.

“I don’t know, Sooyoung. It’s not that easy..” He trailed off, unsure of how else to justify his aversion to actually dating. Sure, he’d gone on a few sporadic dates in the last few years, occasionally had let them go a bit further than dinner, but he’d never felt any need, let alone any want, to introduce them to his family–both the kids and his friends. Kang Jiho had actually been an outlier in that sense for the first week or so. Their first coffee date had been good, good enough for Dokja to mention it to his friends, and at Heewon’s request, show them his profile picture on LinkedIn.

But then that had gone awry in its own manner, and Dokja had been caught up with work, and the new school year, so he hadn’t had much time to mourn that.

“Don’t you ever feel lonely, Dokja? It’s not good for you to do so much alone.” Sooyoung mused. “Sangah always asks me to set you up with someone.”

“Lonely…..” Dokja said, tasting the word out loud and remembering its flavor. Lonely was Shin Ramyun cooked late at night that tasted like cardboard, staying in bed longer each night but sleeping less, and spending hours scrolling though web novels on his phone. Dokja hadn’t felt like that in a long time, but sometimes he felt bits of it even while he was with the kids. Cooking dinner silently as they did homework, skipping lunch when he worked from home and the kids were at school. Going home alone after his friends paired off and walked in opposite directions. 

But in between that there were distinct new feelings. Dokja had occasionally cooked with another person in the kitchen, had laughed with him as they picked up the kids and loaded them in the car, and had someone to talk to on the phone during dull points in his day. He’d even been half-confessed to? almost-kissed, and fully defended by the same man. He almost smiled thinking about these things that had once seemed so teenager-esque to him. Kim Dokja, 31, felt reduced to a stupid high schooler sometimes.

“No, I don’t think I am. I have Joo–” He caught himself before he said his name. “--You guys. Seriously.” 

“Come on, guys. We’re going to be late for dinner.” Dokja called out as he slumped against the wall of Yoo Joonghyuk’s kitchen. Joonghyuk ignored his antics, continuing to stir the pajeon mix.

“Bad day?” He asked, feigning interest. 

It had been a terrible day. Dokja had worked at the Eunha headquarters for the day alongside Joonghyuk, his team of managers, and his fellow gaming teammates, all offering their feedback (and in Joonghyuk’s case, slew of criticism) about their experiences with the technology. Joonghyuk had been absolutely merciless in his harsh comments on Dokja’s work. Dokja wanted to take back even thinking about how he was no longer lonely due to Joonghyuk’s presence. Clearly, that sappy bullshit did not hold up as well as he’d thought, because his day had been a migraine-inducing debug session, trying to get through the first few rounds of flaws Joonghyuk had pointed out in front of basically anyone relevant in Dokja’s professional career.

So yes, it had been a bad day, and Joonghyuk taunting him about it as he cooked delicious food knowing that Dokja still had to go home and start dinner on a dreaded Monday night was just another punch to the gut.

Dokja chose not to comment on Joonghyuk’s comment, instead massaging his temple with his fingers and fighting the smell of dinner. 

“Guys, come down,” he said, sounding pathetically tired. Joonghyuk put down the steel bowl he’d been stirring and walked over to Dokja, examining his face closely. “Not now, Joonghyuk.” Dokja said, looking away to the hallway where the kids should have been by now. 

But Joonghyuk didn’t listen, and instead reached his hand out, almost unsure, then with an air of finality,holding Dokja’s jaw with his hands that were dusted in flour and smelled sour from kimchi brine. Dokja stilled, scared to move suddenly and scare Joonghyuk away, like he was a butterfly that had landed on his shoulder and could fly away without hesitation. Joonghyuk turned Dokja’s face towards him gently, almost like he didn’t want to scare Dokja into flying away either. 

“Stay for dinner.” He said, his eyes having lost their normal guarded sharpness and his face relaxed, like he was smiling. This was probably the closest Dokja would get to an apology for today. He tried not to focus on how close they were, how Joonghyuk was looking at him with this mix of how you’d look at a kicked puppy and how you’d look at a glass of water if you were dehydrated. But Dokja was either too tired to care, or had just stopped caring about their odd dynamic in general, because he found himself leaning into the touch, nodding at Joonghyuk’s request. “Go nap on the couch. I’ll wake you up.” Joonghyuk said, his hand still holding Dokja’s face and a fond look in his eyes.

Dokja yawned as the clatter of dishes roused him from his light drift of sleep. The couch was pretty nice, and he stretched in his sweats as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. 

His sweats?

Dokja looked down, disoriented as he found himself in a comfortable black sweatshirt with green detailing that was definitely not his. Last he’d remembered, he was wearing a horribly uncomfortable suit and a blue tie that he felt suffocated by. Then he’d picked up the kids from Joonghyuk’s house, and Joonghyuk had asked, or basically told Dokja to stay for dinner. 

He stood up, feeling blissfully refreshed from how many hours he’d probably been out. Picking up his phone, he found it was already eight. Joonghyuk had let him sleep for a few hours, and now he probably wasn’t going to sleep at night. Dokja wasn’t as worried about that as he was the kids, because waiting for Dokja, they’d probably be eating late. He wandered into the kitchen, where he found Joonghyuk washing the dishes in a disgustingly fitted t-shirt and black sweatpants that had a familiar green stitching on the hems.

“You didn’t wake me up.” He said, choosing to ignore the sweatshirt thing.

“There was no need to. The kids already ate.” He said, finishing drying off one last plate and putting a bowl in the microwave, warming it up. 

“And you?” Dokja asked, moving to the dining table and taking a seat. Joonghyuk ignored him, and waited for the microwave to go off before he grabbed the bowl and two plates. He followed Dokja to the table, sitting down and starting to split the food between the two plates. Dokja blew on the bite carefully before he ate, the migraine that had been wracking his head melting away. “Ohmygod.” He said, his mouth already full but trying to talk anyways, “Sogood.”

“Good.” Joonghyuk said, looking all too proud of himself as he started to eat as well. Dokja was too absorbed to make small talk, or thank Joonghyuk, or even care about how they were eating a nice dinner alone. He felt incredibly relaxed for the first time all week, which was a feeling he wanted to stay in a little longer. There was no need to complicate it by trying to bring in matters like their arrangement of basically a relationship and the fact that they had almost kissed several weeks ago. 

“Oppa, Ahjussi is awake! Can we eat dessert now?” Mia asked as she ran into the kitchen, not waiting for an answer as she pulled a saran-wrapped dish out of the fridge and ripped away the plastic, grabbing several lemon bars and running back to her room. 

Dokja laughed at her before the concept of lemon bars re-integrated itself into his head. “Lemon bars.” He said, feeling far too sentimental for a desert. 

Joonghyuk coughed. “Do you want one?”

“I do.” Dokja said plainly.

“Text me the madeline recipe on your phone. I know you have it.” Joonghyuk said, like he had been rehearsing this line for days on end.

Had he really planned this out? Made Dokja’s day horrible, lured him to his house, cooked dinner in front of him to make him hungry, basically seduced him into taking a nap, and then making desert for him?

“I can’t believe you! You ruined my day, then offered to fix it, just so you could get my recipe?” Dokja said, truly pissed off again. Whatever relaxation he had for a few minutes was gone. Joonghyuk raised his palms up, eyes full of mirth. 

“You were about to fall for it too. Dokja, just grab your phone, open it, and send it to me. And the tray of lemon bars will be yours.” Joonghyuk said, like he was placating a child.

“Shut up, Joonghyuk!” But Dokja wasn’t as mad as he sounded, and he landed a decent punch to the side of Joonghyuk’s arm before jumping out of his seat and running to where the tray lay. “I’ll take them anyways, so good luck getting my recipe!” He shouted as he ran up to Mia’s room and slammed the door shut on Joonghyuk, who’d been following him with protests in between peals of real laughter.

“Ahjsussi? Are you good?” Yoosung asked, clearly confused.

Dokja took a lemon bar and shoved it in his mouth, appreciating the taste. “I am now.”

As rude as Joonghyuk’s little maneuver had been, Dokja wasn’t going to be in his debt forever, so on Thursday night before he dropped Mia back to Joonghyuk’s house, he made sure to pack a Tupperware full of fresh madeleines for him.

“Ok guys, let’s go.” Dokja said, walking behind all three of the kids as they ran to be the first to push the button for the elevator. Following Monday, work had eased up, the rest of the programming Dokja had to do was decently light, and he’d taken his day off to do some much needed meal prep. Monday, despite being a tumultuous day full of ups and downs, had given him a much needed reset. 

The weather was good, so the kids chattered as they walked to Jonghyuk’s house. Dokja was carrying a few grocery bags, since he wanted to make a quick run right after they stopped at Joonghyuk’s house. These days, he was really trying to figure out if there was anything he was particularly good at making since Joonghyuk could make just about anything. No recipe seemed good enough to even try. It had to be something really, really good. He put this task in the back of his mind as he turned the corner into Joonghyuk’s street.

“Okay, bye guys!” Mia said as she ran to her front door. Dokja was about to ask her to just give the Tupperware to her brother when he realized she’d probably just devour them herself and Joonghyuk would never even know they were there.

“Mia, wait, I need to give something to your brother quickly, okay?” He said, the kids cheering as they got to play together for a bit longer.

“Take your time Dokja-hyung!” Gilyoung said as they raced inside, no doubt planning on how to convince Dokja to spend even more time at the Joo residence.

Dokja chuckled as he scanned the kitchen and living room for Joonghyuk. He wasn’t upstairs, as no one had menacingly stomped down the staircase following Dokja’s unplanned home invasion, and he wasn’t out of the house, since Dokja saw his wallet and car keys hung up by the door where they normally were.

He peeked around the backyard some more until he noticed the basement door was open, just a bit. He tiptoed closer and heard the familiar sounds of a video game he knew Joonghyuk played. 

Dokja still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Joonghyuk, the same one he had planned on trying to seduce, then ended up becoming friends with, and now being in some weird relationship dynamic with, was a super rich and talented gamer. It made sense now– all the times Dokja had called him and Joonghyuk seemed distracted, or that time when Mia had run away and Joonghyuk hadn’t noticed because he’d had his headset on. 

Plus, the whole part about millions of people online knowing who he was and having dedicated fan events, online forums, and hashtags about him was insane. Dokja had once, out of curiosity, looked his name up on Instagram, which apart from a few official accounts, had revealed to him a mass amount of thirst traps of the man. His feed was messed up for a few days after that. Every time he scrolled, Dokja was practically jumpscared by a video of Joonghyuk in a behind-the-scenes training video of him showing his finger dexterity, and he was so embarrassed he’d prompt switch off his phone for the next few hours.

“Joonghyuk?” He called out down the stairs, to which there was no response. He probably had a headset on, then. Dokja walked down, Tupperware in hand, and turned to his right to see Joonghyuk at his setup. He seemed focused, but not enough for Dokja to feel guilty about interrupting him. 

“Hey,” he said, trying to catch his attention without scaring him. Joonghyuk turned, not looking that surprised and taking off his headphones, letting them sit around his neck. Leaned back in his gaming chair, he looked comfortable and like he was having fun.

“Oh, hi. Did you let yourself in?” He asked, going back to gaming. Dokja nodded.

“Yeah. Here, I had to give you these.” He walked over to Joonghyuk, handing him the plastic container of madeleines. “I owe you for Monday.”

Joonghyuk turned away from his game, looking up from his chair and shrugging. “You don’t owe me anything for Monday, relax. And if you think I’m going to give in and give you that recipe, you’re crazy.” He said with a smug smile.

Dokja scoffed in pretend annoyance as he lightly pushed Joonghyuk’s shoulder with a smile. “Shut up. Just eat them.” Joonghyuk had turned his chair to fully face Dokja, and his legs were spread just enough for Dokja to feel like he was caged in standing between them. How could he do that? He was two feet shorter than Dokja right now and Dokja still felt like the trapped one.

Joonghyuk opened the box and tried one, nodding as he chewed. “Good. It’s good.” 

“Thanks.” Dokja said. “I’ll see you Saturday at the aquarium.” He said, starting to walk up the stairs.

“Fuck, is that this weekend?” Joonghyuk said, groaning. 

“It’s been on the calendar for months. Months, Joonghyuk!” Dokja shouted down the stairs as he walked back up with a tender smile. He closed the door behind him and called the kids down to leave before he was seducing into staying for dinner again.

Kim Dokja groaned as he rolled over in bed the next morning. He’d slept late (working) but was also waiting for this new chapter of this webnovel he liked, so he was very grateful he didn’t have to be at the office today. He’d somehow gotten the kids to school on time and crawled back to bed after. 

His phone buzzed from its place on his nightstand. Dokja mindlessly tapped the screen to shut off the alarm, and was surprised to hear a phone call connecting instead and Sangah’s voice asking him something.

“Huh? Sangah, slow down. I just woke up.” He managed to mutter into the phone before putting it on speakerphone. 

“Dokja, what the fuck?!” She whisper-yelled, her voice tinny through the phone. “What were you doing last night?” 

“The…ususal? I slept late waiting for your girlfriend to update her webnovel. Ask her what she was doing up so late on that damn phone.” He snapped back.

Sangah groaned. “No, before that! You were on Joonghyuk’s stream!” She said, clearly trying not to be loud. “Explain this to me, right now.”

That woke him up pretty quickly. Had Joonghyuk been streaming last night? Was that whole interaction caught and published live? Holy shit. “Dokja, watch this TikTok real quick.” Sangah said as she hung up the phone without an answer. Dokja swiped open his phone and opened their messages, where he clicked on a video with some girl’s face reacting to Joonghyuk’s stream last night. He watched as Joonghyuk turned to a voice off camera, smiled, dutifully ate the cookie, flirted with a mysterious figure standing precariously between his legs, and continued gaming with a smile on his face. Oh god. Was that what that looked like? He watched the clip again, listening to the girl squeal about how the Supreme Gamer was definitely in love, because no one had ever seen him smile this often. He opened the comments.

“The phone call voice…..?” He mused as he read the comments. Has this happened before? A quick search verified his confirmations as dozens more reaction videos popped up with clips of Joonghyuk on the phone while streaming with a voice that Dokja recognized to be his own. He was interrupted by Sangah’s phone call, which he promptly pressed to decline no less than twice until he picked up the third one.

“Explain.” She demanded.

Dokja inhaled sharply. “Is this Minosoft’s HR Department Manager Yoo Sangah asking? Or is this my close friend Sangah instead?” If HR had actually gotten wind of this, it would be a little bit more messy. But from a partial point of view, there really was no way of connecting Dokja to the gender-ambiguous person in the streams. Joonghyuk hadn’t called him by name, or mentioned the kids, or done anything insane (other than smiling, and occasionally, blushing).

“It’s your very close, longtime, deeply involved best friend Sangah asking.” She answered. “And the more vague you are with your answer, the more I’m going to want to assume, so don’t make it sound all sneaky-link-y.”

Dokja groaned. “I can’t explain this over the phone. And you can’t tell Sooyoung about this either.”

“Done, and probably done, unless I get drunk or something. Meet me at the Ediya Coffee down the street from the office in twenty minutes.” 

Dokja stumbled out of bed, still scrolling through various clips of Joonghyuk mysteriously smiling at his phone or blushing as a phone was pressed to his ear. Was this what Joonghyuk actually looked like when they were talking? This would have been helpful to know as Dokja tried not to think about the mixed signals he was getting.

“So, you thought he was married, but he’s actually just your kids’ best friend’s older brother who is a whole six years younger than you?” Sangah asked, finally having calmed down.

“Seven. He’s seven years younger. I know.” He said, closing his eyes as Sangah gave him a pointed look. 

“So that time at dinner, when we teased you for calling someone on the phone..” She said, thinking back to dinner a few weeks ago when he’d called Joonghyuk about getting a phone for the kids.

“Yeah, that was him.”

“How did you not know the guy you were basically developing a product for was the same guy you were flirting with every day?!” She asked, trying to stay quiet but catching the attention of a few people around them. The coffee shop was busy, so their conversation was drowned in the chatter around them, but that also meant there were more people to overhear.

“We weren’t flirting,” Dokja tried to explain, but failed to, because it was flirting. He hadn’t even told her about that time they almost kissed.

“Well, whatever you’re doing, get it under control!” She said, lightly flicking him on the forehead. “God, this is that weird tension that I keep hearing about from the HR department at Eunha. You guys have to figure it out!” She exclaimed.

Dokja grumbled. “If only it was that easy.”

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja could not be more thankful that this field trip was happening this weekend. 

Apart from Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung being absolute angels at times, they were still normal 10-year-olds, and there was only so much Dokja could deal with sometimes. After spending the better part of Friday morning stressed about how #supremegamerMysteryHuzz (??? whatever that meant) was trending on X, he spent the other half of Friday evening stressing about how much work he had to catch up on now that he’d missed most of the morning. 

To make matters worse, Gilyoung and Yoosung had gotten into a huge fight during school on Friday, and their senseless teacher had emailed Dokja saying they needed to have another ‘chat’. 

He didn’t yell at the kids, per se, but they were old enough to know better, especially around a teacher who would use any fault in them to point a finger at Dokja’s poor management skills. 

His conversation with Sooyoung the previous week hadn’t really helped– at least she knew she didn’t want to raise kids and was responsible about it. Dokja had hoped the really hard part of raising kids was over, but now he realised it had only just begun. Kids were easy when they were 7 and their primary concerns were scheduling playdates and finishing homework on time. 

Now, Gilyoung and Yoosung would be in junior high soon, and then high school. They would have their own personal lives, things that they wouldn’t want to tell Dokja about, and have to make their own decisions. 

He tried to stay calm as he sat down on the train between Yoosung and Gilyoung, both staring in opposite directions and not talking to each other.

Dokja was thankful they’d get out and be around their separate friends for a while, and not cooped up together at the apartment.

“Hyung, did you pack my toothbrush?” Gilyoung asked, tugging on his sleeve so Dokja would turn away from the window and look at him. 

“I got it.” Dokja said, ruffling his hair. 

From his other side, Yoosung snorted. “Pack your own toothbrush, dumbass.”

Dokja groaned internally. “Yoosung, I don’t want to hear you comment on this, ok?” He said, trying to placate her. He didn’t need half of the train car staring at him and his inability to control his kids.

“Yeah Yoosung, you should listen to Hyung more often.” Gilyoung said, sticking his tongue out in response to her taunt. 

“You little–” Yoosung flung herself across Dokja’s lap, her fists balled up, ready to fight.

Dokja held his arms out on both sides, keeping them away from each other. “If you guys don’t behave yourselves right now we are getting off at the next stop and catching the next train to Jung Heewon’s house. And she can settle this argument with a nice, long, sparring session, okay?” 

Both kids shut up at that. As sweet as she was, sparring against Heewon was always able to scare the shit out of the kids. 

The rest of the ride was spent in blissful silence, with Gilyoung and Yoosung occasionally poking each other’s arms to be annoying. As they got off their stop, Dokja was surprised to see no one other than Yoo Joonghyuk holding an inane amount of pink luggage, with Yoo Mia following him, stepping off the car next to theirs.

“What are the odds?” Dokja asked cooly as he walked up to meet them. He grabbed a backpack out of Joonghyuk’s hands and gave it to Mia. “Mia-yah, it’s only one night, you know?” He asked.

“You think I didn’t tell her that?” Joonghyuk muttered angrily. “She never listens about these things.” 

Dokja was glad the mountain of luggage Joonghyuk was carrying (partially) blocked his view of the man. Did Joonghyuk know about all of the videos online? Better yet, did he know Dokja knew about all of the videos online?

Dokja nudged him forward, trying to guide him in the rush of foot traffic as he kept an eye on the kids, who Mia was trying to unite. As they reached the top of the staircase, Joonghyuk put down most of the luggage next to Mia. “I’m done.” He said, turning around. 

“Oppa! I’m not picking these up! I painted my nails this morning!” Mia argued, waving her bracelet-covered wrists in front of Dokja’s face. 

“Wow, sparkly,” Dokja said, grabbing one of her suitcases. 

Joonghyuk, with a vein practically popping in his neck, obliged and took the rest of Mia’s luggage, also yanking away the one in Dokja’s hands. “I got it!” Dokja argued.

“No, it’s fine.” Joonghyuk said, his jaw clenched. “If I don’t busy my hands I’ll probably end up just throwing her over my shoulder and walking home.”

They walked to the entrance of the SeaLife Aquarium and Dokja squinted as he tried to find the class amidst the people walking around. Around a few hundred feet away was a large group of kids, a blob of matching blue SeaLife t-shirts.

“Okay, there you guys are!” Dokja said, relieved that they’d found the others and he could finally go home. Being out on a Saturday afternoon wasn’t terrible, but there are a lot of other things he’d rather be doing if he was home alone. “Go have fun, okay?” He said, nudging the kids in the direction of the group. 

But Yoosung was glued firmly to his side now. “Can you walk me there? I’m scared.” She mumbled into his jacket.

Neither Yoosung or Gilyoung had been out of Dokja’s sight for too long. An overnight stay with Sangah and Sooyoung or Hyunsung and Heewon was totally different from being away for a class trip for a whole 24 hours. 

Dokja looked down at her, nervous and distracting herself by playing with her bright blonde hair.  

“Yoosung, you don’t have to be scared. You’re with Gilyoung and Mia, and all of your other classmates.” He said, trying to calm her down. She nodded firmly and gave him a quick hug before catching up with Mia and Gilyoung. 

“She ok?” Joonghyuk asked casually as they walked behind the kids to their class. 

Dokja hummed in response. “I think she’s just nervous. I haven’t really let them out of my sight for that long.” He said truthfully. 

Joonghyuk cleared his throat. “I almost wasn’t going to let Mia go. But I didn’t want her to miss out on regular kid things because of me.” He said, putting her bags down as they finally reached the others. 

Before Dokja could respond, one of the teachers clapped her hands and instructed the kids to grab their bags and follow her into the aquarium. Dokja waved goodbye to Gilyoung and patted Yoosung’s head as they walked away, sighing as they finally went in. 

He watched Joonghyuk as he helped Mia carry all her things inside, and he came back out looking deeply unsettled.

“Joonghyuk-ah, what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you look so…distraught.” Dokja said, almost beginning to get worried himself.

Joonghyuk shoved his hands (which were finally free) into his pockets. “I’m just worried about Mia.” He said solemnly, staring at the entrance where the kids had gone in. 

“She’ll be okay, Joonghyuk. She’s with her friends, and her teachers.” Dokja said, patting him on the arm a few times in consolation. “She has a phone, remember?” He asked.

Joonghyuk shrugged. “I guess.” He kept on watching the entrance.

Dokja had been looking forward to going home and the apartment being blissfully silent, but now he wasn’t sure what he was even looking forward to. Doing the dishes? Folding laundry? Looking at Joonghyuk’s face all tensed up and worried made Dokja feel all silly, for lack of a better term. He felt soft and silly and stupid. 

“Why don’t we go in for a bit? Maybe you’ll see her having fun and realise that she’ll be okay.” Dokja offered all of a sudden. 

Joonghyuk nodded. “Yeah, why not.” He said, sounded all too cool and nonchalant for someone who’d been moping about their kid sister for the last five minutes.

They walked to the entrance and waited in line for tickets, Joonghyuk scrolling through some app on his phone, some familiar audio faintly playing. Dokja tried not to look. If anything, it was hard to see, because Joonghyuk was guarding his screen carefully, and his broad shoulders didn’t help as they were pretty much blocking Dokja’s view. From what he could see, or hear, Joonghyuk was reading someone's DMs and responding to a shared reel which looked like a  very familiar reaction video Dokja himself had seen hours ago.

“Don’t pry.” Joonghyuk said, frowning as he tucked his phone into his pocket when he noticed Dokja trying to stand on his tip-toes.

Dokja snorted. “Oh yeah? When were you going to tell me about #superemegamerMysteryHuzz, then?” He taunted.

To his credit, Joonghyuk shut up at that. Thankfully, it was their turn in line, so the silence didn’t last.

“Hi, welcome to the SeaLife Aquarium at Seoul, how many tickets will you be needing?” Their cashier was probably some bored high school student, chewing gum and drumming her manicured nails on her counter. Dokja saw as she brightened up checking out Joonghyk, her interest piqued, then looking Dokja up and down like she was judging him.

“Just two, please.” Dokja said, reaching into his wallet to find his card. Before he could look back up, Joonghyuk’s card was sitting innocently on the counter, the cashier taking it to be charged. “Joonghyuk, I got it!” He said, annoyed. “I’m older.”

“So?” Joonghyuk asked.

“So I’ll pay, it’s fine.” Dokja argued, putting his card down on top of Joonghyuks.

The cashier smiled coyly. “We have a special discount running for couples this week.” She said, winking at Dokja.

Dokja felt heat rise into his face. Is that what this looked like? He didn’t wait for Joonghyuk to say anything and handed his card to the cashier. If they were going to be mistaken for a couple, they might as well get the financial benefits.

“Just charge my card, please.” He begged. She shrugged, swiping his card and handing them two tickets in return.  

“Have fun, you guys!” She said, waving forward to the next group of customers.

Dokja walked alongside Joonghyuk, unsure of what to say. 

“Couple discount?” Joonghyuk said with a snort, breaking the silence in the dark hallway of the aquarium.

Dokja flicked his arm. “You’re one to talk with that trending hashtag of yours.” He laughed as Joonghyuk shut up. “When were you going to tell me about that?” Dokja asked.

“I thought you knew…”Joonghyuk muttered. 

“About the streaming?” Dokja asked. Joonghyuk nodded. “I didn’t! The first time I found out was actually at that first meeting.”

He pushed open the first set of double doors and the bright blue water, dotted with fish of all colors, was enough to make him gasp and forget about the conversation. “Look at that…” He whispered, in awe.

“Yeah, whatever, it’s nice.” Joonghyuk said. “Either way, how did you not know who I was?” He asked, confused.

“Was I supposed to?” Dokja responded, feeling dazed and disoriented by how many fish were around him. It felt like a kaleidoscope inside the exhibit, with the light dancing off of the glass enclosures and each fish like a glittering mirror catching his eyes. 

“Yes!” Joonghyuk argued, sounding surprised. “I was on those work emails! And, I’m like,” he looked around carefully before finishing his sentence, “famous!”

Dokja smiled, amused at Joonghyuk’s rare display of actual disappointment. “I’m kind of absent-minded about these things, if you haven’t already noticed.” He said, staring at Joonghyuk pointedly. “Plus, we never talked about work at all before the meeting at Minosoft!” He sighed as Joonghyuk looked dejected and comically upset. “Sorry, okay?”

“Whatever.”

Dokja paused to snap a picture of one of the funny looking fish to send to Sooyoung. She’d probably like this place, just to laugh at the weird-looking ones. 

“So, how come you didn’t tell me you knew me?” Dokja asked.

“What?”

“You can’t be mad at me for not knowing who you were and then also never have mentioned it yourself.” Dokja thought back to the first time they ate dinner together at this house and remembered how Joonghyuk had seemed very interested in his work, realizing that he must have already known what Dokja did for a living. “You lied about asking about my job!” He declared.

Joonghyuk didn’t look guilty at all. “I just wanted to see if you knew who I was.”

“And I didn’t, so you just never said anything?” Dokja hissed. He’d spent so much time interacting with the man before he realised, on the day of his presentation, that he was actually a hugely relevant client.

“How would I have brought it up? While we were washing the dishes or something?” Joonghyuk asked him, which was true. 

“I guess. You could have told me you were streaming, though!” Dokja argued in retaliation. The (various) times they were on the phone, the incident on Thursday night?

“Yeah, my bad.” Joonghyuk said, suddenly interested in the fish. 

“So, #supremegamerMysteryHuzz?” Dokja probed. Joonghyuk groaned into the glass.

“Stop saying that! You don’t even know what it means.” He walked forward out of this exhibit into the next one, which was full of fluorescent coral of blindingly beautiful colors.

Dokja struggled to keep up with his brisk pace. “Doesn’t matter. I saw the reaction videos.” He said confidently.

Joonghyuk whirled around. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.” Dokja tried to keep his voice steady as Joonghyuk crept closer, his face occasionally lighting up in neon colors as they stood under the coral. In the  darkness around them, no one else seemed to exist. The silence in the exhibit allowed Dokja to hear his heartbeat reverberating through his ears, speeding up as Joonghyuk searched his eyes like he was trying to find something there.

“Which ones did you see?” Joonghyuk asked, looking all too serious and beautiful for such an immature topic. Were they really talking about Tiktok right now?

Dokja flushed thinking about the various thirst traps of Joonghyuk smiling into his phone. He tried not to let it show, but his embarrassment was clearly obvious, because Joonghyuk just gave him this blindingly handsome glare of superiority and turned right back around as if nothing had happened.

Were they choosing to ignore the whole matter, then? Did Joonghyuk even care what Dokja had seen? It was all so confusing, and at the same time, Dokja knew it wasn’t worth stressing over. This back-and-forth banter with Joonghyuk had been going on for a while now, and as much as it irritated him at points, it had also turned Joonghyuk into one of his closest friends. He’d become someone Dokja could turn to for help, advice, and occasionally, someone Dokja could talk to just for fun. Maybe younger people (? he had no idea what dating culture was supposed to be like in your twenties anyways) just did this for fun. He was 31 years old, for god’s sake. He wasn’t sure what exactly to do here. 

They walked into the next exhibit in silence until a notification from Joonghyuk’s phone seemed to wake him up. He looked down at the phone, irritated, but picked it up nonetheless.

“What?” He asked impatiently. Despite the phone not being on speaker, Dokja could hear a faint, strict voice practically yelling at Joonghyuk from where he was standing a few feet away. “Oh,” Joonghyuk said, checking his watch, “yeah, cancel that. I’m busy.” He said, hanging up the phone mid-protest.

They’d gone in on his request, which Joonghyk probably hadn’t even wanted to do, and now he was moving his schedule for this. He wasn’t sure what to say. Was it too late to turn around and walk out? 

“Don’t even think about leaving now.” Joonghyuk said, shoving his phone into his back pocket.

“If you’re busy–” Dokja tried to argue, but Joonghyunk cut him off with a glare.

“I am busy.” He stated. Dokja 

tried not to let himself look disappointed. “Doing this. So shut up.” Joonghyuk said, turning around to watch the sunfish. 

Dokja wasn’t sure what to say at all. They weren’t the type to thank each other too often. Dokja didn’t even know if he should be thanking Joonghyuk, or if he should be asking why the other was making time for him. Asking about it felt too forward, but he wasn’t sure what else to talk about now.

“Wow, Mr. Famous is clearing time for little old me, huh?” Dokja said,  trying to laugh it off by pretending to pathetically swoon against Joonghyuk like he’d seen those Disney princesses do. Joonghyuk ignored him entirely, letting Dokja clumsily stumble into glass with a yelp.

“Yoo Joonghyuk!” Dokja protested, embarrassed. “What happened to being my knight?” 

Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. “I’m not catching you. Don’t go that far.” 

“God, I can’t count on you for anything.” Dokja muttered, no real sentiment other than fondness behind his words. 

As they walked in silence, Dokja noticed a group of kids in matching t-shirts pass them by. “Joonghyuk-ah, look!” He whispered pointing them out.

Joonghyuk looked up, probably trying to find his sister. “Not here.” Rarely did Dokja see the other look anxious, and it was off-putting.

“She’ll be okay on her own, you know.” Dokja commented. “I’m getting worried with the kids growing up too. Honestly, you just have to trust that she’ll be good and that she trusts you enough to tell you things.” He said sheepishly. 

“It’s easy for you to say that.” Joonghuk said quietly. “You always know what to do.” 

“Really?” Dokja said, seriously laughing at how honest Joonghyuk looked right now. And also at how Joonghook thought he was some kind of role model. “You think I know what I’m doing?” He asked, his sides starting to hurt as he calmed down.

“I’m being serious. You’re….” Joonghuk faltered, abandoning his words entirely and choosing to watch the fish again.

“No, tell me,” Dokja argued, leaning into Joonghyuk to bother him (and also to be close to the man, sue him). “What am I like?”

Joonghyuk cleared his throat. “You’re warm.” He paused for a second, his eyes carefully focused on the fish now, but he seemed to steel himself before he kept on talking. “You’re comforting. You’re a good person, a good parent. You care for everyone around you and you make sure your kids eat vegetables and you show up, no matter how busy you are.”

Dokja was stunned into silence. He’d never heard the other man talk about something so carelessly. Not in the sense that Joonghyuk didn’t care. It was totally the opposite. Normally, Joonghyu chose his words carefully: he didn’t use more than he needed to to get his point across, and everything he said was calm and controlled and careful. 

But this? As Joonghyuk rambled, his words rushed out of his mouth, like he couldn’t control what he was saying. Warmth bloomed in this cheeks as he realized that Joonghyuk was saying such kind things about him.

“--And you use that laundry softener, right? You know when you do laundry–” Joonghyuk rambled on, and Dokja wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to his laundry detergent composition now, “--when you do laundry, and it’s cold outside, but you open the dryer up and the blankets are all warm and you just hold them for a while? That’s you. That’s what you’re like, Kim Dokja.” Joonghyu said, finally turning to face him, curly hair swooping into his eyes, eyes that were full of adoration, adoration for him. Dokja, not for the first time today, wasn’t sure what to think.

Had Joonghyuk just confessed to him? Or was this still a conversation about parenting at a young age? Or had they been talking about household chores? 

“Joonghyuk, only you could turn a question like that into a conversation about my laundry.” Dokja said, smiling at him.

“Shut up.” Joonghyuk said, a tint of red on his ears. He was blushing, Dokja thought.

“Aw, back to snappy cold Joonghyuk. Too bad.” Dokja said, pretending to mope.

The rest of the exhibits passed by without much excitement. Joonghuk kept an eye out for Mia, but he looked more at ease than before. Dokja swore he saw a flash of blonde hair in a crowd, but it was hard to tell in the dark, and he didn’t see the point in worrying endlessly anyways.

“I like this one.” Dokja said, pointing to a starfish squirming on a rock. 

“Of course you do.” Joonghyu muttered, his face contorted in thinly-veiled disgust. He was so predictable.

“God, you know what you look like right now? This one. This ugly one over here.” Dokja said, laughing when Joonghyuk looked at the flat-faced, comically funny-looking fish and made a very uncannily similar face.

“Take that back.” He said, frowning.

Dokja leaned up close to the plaque to read its description. “The Ocean sunfish, it's called. I like that.” He said, snapping a quick picture of them side-by-side.

“Delete that.” Joonghyuk snapped.

“I don’t think I will, actually.” Dokja taunted, jerking his body back quickly to avoid Joonghyuk’s outstretched arm. And all of a sudden, he felt himself lose his footing, his limbs flailing, and Dokja closed his eyes and winced for the impact moments away. 

Except the impact never came. Dokja felt himself caught in mid-air with a dull, muffled, thump, and he opened his eyes carefully to see Joonghyuk had caught him in time. Dokja’s arms had, on instinct, reached out for something to grab, and they’d landed on Joonghyuk’s shoulder and chest. Joonghyuk’s own arms were supporting Dokja’s back and his other arm lay heavy on Dokja’s chest, his fingers clutching the fabric of Dokja’s sweater like his life depended on it.

Dokja was almost scared to look up, but he was glad he did.

Joonghyuk’s jaw was clenched in concentration, and strands of hair fell in his face. Their eyes met, and Dokja felt like he’d just been caught staring at the sun. He didn’t think closing his eyes would even help. Joonghyuk’s stare burned white-hot, and looking at him felt like Dokja was drowning, drowning in sun and heat.

“Still think I look like that fish?” Joonghyuk whispered, voice heavy and straight in Dokja’s ears. Dokja silently shuddered listening to him, choosing to just look the other way and struggle to get on his own feet again. 

Once he regained his vertical decency, Joonghyuk quickly bent down and picked something off the floor.

“What’s that?” Dokja asked awkwardly.

Joonghyuk shook his head. “Looks familiar.” It was a shiny silver bead, tiny but standing out. “Whatever.” Joonghyuk said, nudging Dokja so they kept walking.

They kept on talking, mostly Dokja ranting about work and Joonghyuk taunting him, with the occasional jab about Joonghu’s bad practice match last week or a joke about Dokja’s iced-coffee spill in the parking lot.

And suddenly, they were back at the entrance, walking out and seeing the same employee as before. She gave a smile when she noticed them, and Dokja felt self-confusion as she stared at them with sly interest. He was practically glued to Joonghuk’s side, since the exit was kind of cramped with all the evening foot traffic.

“So,” Dokja said, sighing as they were outside again and breathing in some fresh air, “Are you, uh, going back?” He asked very smartly. Of course Joonghyuk was going back. It wasn’t like he was staying on the fucking overnight trip with the rest of the fifth-graders.

“No.” Joonghuk said, continuing to walk forward. Dokja stared at him dumbly, rooted to where he was standing. Was he supposed to just go home now? 

Joonghyuk turned around after a few paces, looking irritated. “What are you doing?” He asked, exasperated, waiting as Dokja jogged forward to meet him.
“Where are you going?” Dokja asked as they walked through the lively streets of Seoul in the evening. It was dark out now, but the light pollution of South Korea’s largest city was no laughing matter. Joonghuk’s face was illuminated in the bright street lighting and passed through shadows. 

“We’re getting food.” Joonghyuk said, tugging Dojka closer to him as they were passed by a large group of rowdy tourists. He kept Dokja there after they’d passed too. Dokja tried to stay calm with Joonghyuk’s hand practically yawning him forward. He was trying his best, Dokja supposed. 

Dokja cycled through three consistent thoughts throughout dinner. 

One, the food was so fucking good, holy shit. Joonghyuk was very serious about eating clean, which is why Dokja was surprised they were even going out. But the simple Italian restaurant tasted so fresh and clean Dokja was convinced Joonghyuk must have cooked it himself when he’d gone to the bathroom after they’d put in their order. They shared a simple salad and a little plate of bruschetta, and Joonghyuk had ordered a beautiful-sounding chicken dish while Dokja had just let Joonghyuk pick out a plate of pasta for him. Dokja had a glass of wine, while Joonghyuk looked at him like he was crazy if Dokja asked if he was going to get anything. The food came, and it couldn't have been better. The pasta was rich and bouncy, the vodka sauce thick and delicately savory with hints of cream. 

Two, were they on a date right now? The aquarium was a different situation, and wasn’t all that romantic in the first place, sans the stupid couples discount. But this? This was a dimly lit, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant with candles at every table, quiet jazz floating through the restaurants, and expensive bottles of wine lined up on the walls. This was a date-night restaurant, it was evident as the rest of the place seemed to be majority tables for two. Dokja was sure they got a few weird looks, with two men sitting together over a candle and sharing desert (had he mentioned the tiramisu yet?), but it also could have been due to how handsome Joonghyuk looked.

Three, Joonghyuk had never looked so attractive before. Dokja was used to seeing him all the time, first at each other's houses, covered in mud while reluctantly playing with the kids, or elbow-deep in a sinkful of dishes after dinner. Then at work, wearing either baggy sweats that he looked very comfortable snuggling up in while gaming, ridiculously tight compression shirts with every arm vein popping out, or an exquisitely tailored suit that made him look like some hybrid CEO-mafia boss-prince, like he’d fallen straight out of a romance drama. 

But today, in the soft candlelight of the restaurant, his smile was playful, his voice was quiet and soft in the hushed conversations surrounding him as he suggested dishes for Dokja. Was this how other people also saw Joonghyuk? Dokja finally understood the appeal in its entirety. Joonghyuk never really laughed, but Dokja finally paid attention to how the corners of his lips curved up and a low chuckle followed. Or as they stared at a couple near them fighting about what wine to order, and Joonghyuk stared at them, looking all too quietly nosy and reminding Dokja of the PTO moms.

Somehow, between cycling through ‘Oh fuck, that tastes so good’, ‘Oh fuck, I’m 31, what am I doing here’, and most of all, ‘Oh fuck, he’s so attractive’, Dokja wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep on talking with a straight face. 

But that was the thing. Between all of the confusion about the date and undisguised attraction he finally accepted he had for the other, Dokja felt completely at ease. It was just Joonghyuk. Again, he’d seen the man covered in mud, leftover banana-blueberry smoothies, and sometimes Mia’s nasty glittery slime. He’d bickered, flirted, fought, seduced, confronted, and most of all, confided with him. Joonghyuk was who Dokja went to when he was bored, or happy, or irritated, or unsure, or even hungry. It was just Joonghyuk.

They shared a light, delicately sweet and airy tiramisu that was drizzled with chocolate syrup in a heart shape. Dokja, out of sheer habit, was about to poke fun at Joonghyuk by trying to feed him a bite, then realized how genuine that would look in this setting, so he kept on eating from his own spoon.

He didn’t really put up much of a fight when Joonghyuk grabbed the bill and slipped his card inside, plus, he’d had a second glass of wine with desert, so he was happy and content and in no mood to bicker with Joonghyuk over a stupid dinner bill that he knew would freak him out anyways.

“Ready to go?” Joonghyuk asked as he put his card back in his wallet and stood up. 

Doja nodded, standing up as well and following him out. “Ooh, mint.” He said, grabbing a little white wrapped from a bowl at the front. 

The journey back home was more regular– more similar to their normal interactions. They bantered, fought over some stupid issue regarding office drama (Dokja thought it was stupid, Joonghyuk thought it was best to stay uninvolved), and joked about some of the PTO moms. 

Maybe the effect of the restaurant had worn off. Joonghyuk was normal again, no sweet smile or gentle voice anymore. Under the harsh lights of the train, he was a snappy, rude, silly old Joonghyuk. 

Not old. Joonghyuk was actually really young. Practically not even fully mentally developed yet, which made Dokja feel like he’d just gone out on a date with some poor college kids who needed to get his tuition paid. He giggled.

“Huh?” Joonghyuk asked, his breath turning into little clouds as he walked back to Dokja’s apartment. 

Dokja giggled again. “It’s funny, because you’re the rich one, even though I should be paying for you because I’m so old.” He explained slowly.

Joonghyuk looked very confused. Dokja sighed dramatically. “Nevermind, god, I have to stop making jokes all the time. You’re so bad at this.”

“Sure.” Joonghyuk said, sounding all too amused for someone who couldn’t pick up on any sophisticated humor. 

The apartment lobby in the night was dimmed and lit with soft lamps that made Dokja feel like he was at a hotel. Why hadn’t they gone through the garage?
“Because we’re not using the car, Dokja.” Joonghyuk responded as they waited for an elevator.

“Woah, you just did it again, Joonghyuk.” Dokja said, in awe. “Sometimes I feel like you can read my mind.” 

“Oh yeah?” Joonghuk asked as Dokja stepped into the elevator. 

“Yeah, tell me what I’m thinking, right now.” Dokja said, leaning in close to Joonghyuk. It would help with the mental connection, that’s why.

“You’re…” Joonghyuk frowned in concentration, “thinking about laundry you have to do?” He guessed.

“Wrong!” Dokja said, frowning when he remembered the laundry. “Thanks for reminding me about that, damn.”

They stepped off the elevator, walking the short distance to Dokja’s apartment. He fumbled for his keys for a second, the press of the cool metal on his hands sobering him up a bit more. Sliding the key into the lock and twisting it, Dokja opened the door and stepped inside. Joonghyuk, however, didn’t turn around and leave.

“Thanks.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Dokja cocked his head to the side. 

“For what?”

“For the thing in the aquarium. It was nice of you to offer to look for Mia. You didn’t have to.” Joonghyuk stated.

Dokja waved his hand. “Warm blanket, remember?” He said, referencing their earlier conversation. 

Joonghyuk sighed, looking embarrassed that he’d said that. “Yeah, I remember.” They stood like that for a few seconds until Joonghyuk took his hands out of his pockets and moved forward to take Dokja’s hands in his own.

It would be so cliche if his hands were so warm or something like that, so Dokja wasn’t shocked when they were, because his life just seemed to be funny like that these days. Joonghyuk’s hands were smooth, but the pads of his fingers had callouses on them, probably from gaming. And they were so big. They seemed to envelop his own completely, and Joonghyuk was less holding Dokja’s hands and more clasping the two together, smushing them inside his own.

Joonghyuk broke Dokja’s laser focus on staring at their hands folded together with a whisper. “You’re so different from what I imagined. And yet, you’re everything I thought you’d be.” His voice was soft, almost shy, something Dokja had never, ever, thought Joonghyuk could do.

Dokja looked up at him, absolutely smitten but very confused. 

“You didn’t know me.” Dokja stated, his voice dropped to a whisper too. They’d only met a few months, through the disastrous first-meeting where Dokja had gotten ready to seduce Joonghyuk’s non-existent wife.

“I’ve always known you.” Joonghyuk said, voice so low Dokja tried to calm his heart from beating too loud in case he missed it, “I’ve been at all of those PTO meetings, you just never noticed me there.” 

Had he really? Dokja couldn’t remember half of those meetings, and now he felt horribly guilty, because he really hadn’t noticed him at all. “Or at the bake sales, and the library storytimes, and at the grocery store where you get broccoli and fabric softener you like.” He said, listing a familiar list of places, some of which Dokja hadn’t gone to in a bit.

“I haven’t gone to one of the library storytimes since the kids were like, in first grade.” Dokja said out loud, still confused, because he hadn’t even known Joonghyuk existed back then.

Joonghyuk nodded, looking like he was finally confessing to a crime that he had tried to hide for long. “I know, Dokja. I told you, I’ve always known you.” He said truthfully.

At one point in his life, Dokja would have felt overwhelmed by how close he was standing to Joonghyuk. But now, even with their hands intertwined, faces inches away, it felt too far, and not barely enough contact. 

With literally nothing he could say to Joonghyuk right now, Dokja leaned forward until he felt warm air ghosting over his own lips, and kissed Joonghyuk. 

It was gentle at first, their hands still awkwardly between them, and barely there. 

Then, Dokja almost melted when he felt Joonghyuk’s arm snake across his torso and rested on his lower back, pulling him in properly and kissing him deeply, his other arm sliding up to pull Dokja’s face even closer. He wanted to be closer, closer toJoonghyuk. It wasn’t close enough, and then all of a sudden, it was too much, and Dokja pulled away with a gasp, almost dizzy as he took gulps of air.

Dokja felt light-headed and yet, for the first time, also felt extremely clear about how his feelings for Yoo Joonghyuk. 

He promptly stepped backwards into his apartment and shut the door in Joonghyuk’s face.

----

“Mia, I see them!” Shin Yoosung whispered as she tugged on her best friend’s sleeve. 

After what felt like hours of searching, Yoosung, Gilyoung, and Mia had finally found their guardians. Gilyoung, about ten minutes into the field trip, had convinced both of the girls that yes, he definitely saw Hyung and Joonghyuk-ssi walking, walking inside the exhibit!

Mia had called him an idiot, Gilyoung had gotten mad, but Yoosung, priding herself on being the calm one, had made a plan of action. They would keep on following the group like they had to, but at each new exhibit with a new guide, Mia and Yoosung would go to the bathroom in their buddy pair. It was good they were both girls, because Gilyoung wasn’t allowed to go with them. Then, they scouted secretly, and finally, they found the two walking together.

“Oh my god, it’s really them!” Mia said, Yoosung shushing her. All their hard work couldn’t be ruined for nothing! If they were caught, not only would Ahjsussi be mad at them (Yoosung didn’t really care about Joonghyuk-oppa that much), they would also be in trouble with their teacher, since the bathroom was not at all in this direction. Worst of all, they would interrupt their date. 

“Mia, if we plan this right, you know what this means, right?” Yoosung whispered, almost vibrating with excitement. Yes, they’d had a sister-wedding already, but it didn’t matter! If this worked out, they could be real siblings.

“What do we do! We can’t like, lock them in a closet, or something. I saw that in a drama, and that worked out just fine.” Mia muttered, toying with her bracelets as she concentrated. Just then, her face lit up. “Got it.”

Yoosung watched as Mia took off one of her many beaded bracelets. “Yoosungie, do you have a hairclip?” She asked.

Yoosung clipped a pin out of her head and handed it to her, clapping in realization as Mia carefully used the hairclip to cut the bracelet and fish out one bead, rolling the rest into her pocket. 

“I got it. I have good aim.” Yoosung said as she bent down behind the bench they were squeezed behind and squinted one eye closed.

“Do it for us! Remember. Real wedding. We get to be real sisters.”

Yoosung rolled the bead, with enough force for it to travel a hundred or so feet before it rolled at a stop underneath Ahjussi’s feet.

“Come on, Ahjussi, be clumsy,” Yoosung whispered as she waited for him to get closer to the bead. In an instant, he had tripped on it, and was falling, and as predicted, Joonghuk-oppa was there in a flash, holding onto him like they were in a romance drama and Ahjussi was about to die or something cheesy like that.

They squealed, hugging each other tight. “They’re definitely getting married now!”