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Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk stared directly forward as he drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Rain was coming down heavily on the windshield, and the lights of the night cityscape view was blurred into smears of colour before the wipers periodically cleared the view.

The lights turned red, and the luxury car slid to a stop, skidding slightly on the wet pavement. Yoo Joonghyuk let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his dark hair, pushing strands out of his eyes in an irritated way.

Anyone would be tense in such driving conditions, but they were not the cause for his awful mood. There was someone that he was heading to see right now, and his emotions could not be more complicated towards them.

What could he even do, in this situation?

.

.

.

The darkened view of the ceiling greeted him as he opened his eyes blearily. He blinked to clear his blurry vision.

What was…

He winced. It hurt to think.

Without giving himself any more time to collect himself, the young man pushed himself up into a sitting position with weak arms. He vaguely registered the sharp stabbing pains near his abdomen as he moved, and although he was simply sitting up, a wave of vertigo hit him and he instinctively touched a hand to his head. His fingertips found the texture of rough gauze. His head was bandaged?

He lifted up the corner of his shirt, a thin hospital gown. His stomach was also bandaged. From the amount of pain he was feeling from all over his body, he could tell that there were stitches in both his abdomen and head, probably broken ribs, and awful bruises all over his body. What the hell happened to him?

The man stiffly moved to sit at the side of the soft hospital bed, kicking the sheets aside and swinging his legs over the side. The tiny bit of sky that he could still see from behind the drawn curtains was dark. Tall buildings peeked out at him, windows dimly lit. He was in a luxurious, private hospital room, maybe. A quick look around at the refined and spacious room… with the expensive-looking furnishing and tasteful decor, as well as the IV drips and medical machinery connected to his arm, his guess probably wasn’t far off from the truth.

He looked down at his hands, bandaged and bruised. He doesn’t remember anything. Not even his own name.

Why am I alive?

He had this completely unexplainable feeling that he had forgotten something important. Something had gone down right before all this. Something had happened…and he had been prepared to die.

A distant noise startled him out of his thoughts. His head snapped up, and he stared at the door. There was someone coming. He could hear distant, muffled sounds of fighting.

Suddenly alert, he moved without thinking. Instinct made him rip out the IVs in his arm, and he silently hid behind the door and out of view, grabbing the nearest vase on the table to use as a weapon. His heartbeat felt thunderous in his chest – despite his memories, there was only one thought in his mind.

Survive.

The doorknob rattled, and the door opened with a soft creak.

Silence, and then someone stepped forwards into the room. “Fuck,” A low voice said. “That slimy bastard ran awa-”

As soon as the figure stepped into view, he swung the vase directly at the back of their head with all the strength he could muster. With the sickening crack of ceramic meeting flesh and the earsplitting sound of the vase shattering, the figure stumbled forwards while letting out a strangled cry of pain. The young man instantly sidestepped the man clutching his blood-covered head, and was out the door in a flash.

The hallway was dark and deserted, aside from some dark shapes lying crumpled in the distance. Ignoring them, he glanced upwards and then raced in the direction of the exit sign lit up in green, gritting his teeth in suppressed agony as pain flared in his entire body from his movement. The emergency stairwell wasn’t far away. He wasn’t sure where he would go exactly, but anywhere is better than here, with a furious armed attacker. And yes, he had seen the silenced, black .22LR handgun clutched in the intruder's gloved hand.

Upon reaching the emergency stairwell, he yanked the door open and darted inside. The stairwell was cold and unfurnished, a stark contrast to the warm hallways and rooms on the floor. Here, the stairs and landings were roughly made, and completely constructed by cement. He winced. His bare feet vividly felt the drastic change in temperature as he ran down the stairs.

After two flights, he started to slow down. His head was pounding, and his injuries hurt like hell. Reaching out to lean against the wall for support, he breathed in with a shudder and shut his eyes. It would be fine to take a breather, right?

Suddenly, the door in front of him burst open with a crash. Before he even had time to react, he was thrown to the ground and pinned to the wall by his throat.

“Gh…! You…Get off of me!” He struggled, voice strangled by the tightening force around his neck, and kicked out at his attacker. The same masked man from before was squeezing the life out of him, his eyes wild and murderous as blood dripped down his face and neck.

“Think you won, huh?” The man gave a cruel laugh at his futile attempts to fight back. Of course, he was completely overpowered; he was already severely injured, and this was a trained assassin fully prepared to take his life.

“You’re a slippery one. That little stunt you pulled back there will only make this more painful for you.” Pulling out the gun with one hand, the assassin strangled him with his other hand with enough force to make his vision blur at the edges. He struggled to breathe. The assassin grinned at his visible agony and shoved the gun so his head snapped back and hit the cement wall painfully. “But lucky for you, I’m out of time. And since I’m so, kind,” The assassin punctuated each word with grinding the gun into his head wound, earning strangled gasps in return. “Are there any last words from our dearest Salvation?”

“Haah…ha…” White dots swam in his view, and the edges of his vision were starting to darken. He could hardly breathe, but still managed to squeeze out his words through gritted teeth.

“Go… fuck yourself!”

With that, he bent the assassin’s index finger backwards in one sudden movement. When the grip loosened with a grunt of pain, he tore the hand away, scrambling to the side and to his feet. Holding his bruised throat with a trembling hand, he yelled as he tried to flee.

“HELP! Anyone, Someone h…agh!”

He didn’t even get two steps away before he was dragged back by his hair. He was once again slammed against the wall, and this time, the assassin’s hand was tight around his mouth, pinning him down and preventing him from crying out again.

“Fucking bastard. Shut the fuck up!” He couldn’t see the full expression of his masked attacker, but what bit he could see of the assassin’s face was twisted in rage. The cold barrel of the gun met his temple, and he could hear the telltale, subtle click of a finger tightening on the trigger. It was over. He squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation for the gunshot.

The thunderous bang echoed in the stairwell, amplified a thousand times by the cold cement. For a second, nothing moved, but then the gun digging into his temple fell away and clattered to the floor. An unknown weight fell slowly and collapsed onto him.

His eyes flew open. He wasn’t dead.

He stared down in shock. There was a bullet wound dripping blood on the side of the assassin’s head, and the lifeless body had collapsed over his own. The gunshot had not been from the assassin’s gun, but rather, someone else’s.

Polished dress shoes entered his vision, footsteps echoing firmly in the narrow stairwell, and stopped before him.

“You’ve gotten soft, Salvation.” A deep voice said from above him.

His heart gave an unexplained pang of emotion, of pain, regret…and something more. He trained his gaze on the ground, eyes shaking as he forced himself not to look up. He probably wouldn’t remember the man standing before him, but his heart told him to run. To get as far as he could from this man. Because……he couldn’t help himself. He looked up.

A towering figure met his eyes, gazing at him with cold eyes from above. The handsome man gave a mirthless chuckle at the look on his face, and knelt down before him. In one smooth movement, the man had grabbed the collar of the dead body on top of him and tossed it aside like a sack of dirt.

“Kim Dokja.”

Was that his name? It was clear that they had known each other for a long time by the tone and way that he had spoken to him.

“Did you think I’d just let someone else kill you?”

“I…” He wasn’t sure what to say. His head was pounding, his heart was racing, and as the adrenaline slowly wore off, the agony in his body came back with a vengeance. He could hardly think. In the end, Kim Dokja found that he could only apologize.

“…Sorry.”

“I should have locked you up.”

The insanity of the statement was lost on Kim Dokja as he struggled to catch his bearings. So much happened in the mere span of minutes, and it was finally taking a toll on him. Wincing, he touched a hand gingerly to his head wound, where the assassin had repeatedly hurt him. His fingers came back red. The blood had soaked through the gauze.

He realized that the man was still staring at him intently. With considerable effort, Kim Dokja looked up again with the most polite expression he could muster. His throat felt dry as he finally said, “Thank you for helping me… sorry, do I know you?”

Silence.

The man’s eyes widened slightly, but then furrowed his brows in anger. “Kim Dokja. Do you really think I’d fall for that?”

It wasn’t a trick, Kim Dokja thought miserably. From the second he woke up in that hospital bed, he had been thrown into one awful situation after another. He wouldn’t even have had time to come up with any lies, dammit…

His confusion and helplessness must have been evident in his expression. When Kim Dokja didn’t answer, the man seemed to read something from his face. In a second, the handsome man’s demeanor went from quiet fury to a stunned look of silence.

A strange atmosphere settled over the cold stairwell. Kim Dokja looked into the dark eyes of the man, and saw a flicker of emotion in those cold eyes. As if in a trance, the man’s hand reached out as if to touch his face, and then stopped in midair. Kim Dokja looked at him with wide, confused eyes. What’s up with this guy?

“Do you really not remember me?” The man asked, voice quiet.

“No,” Kim Dokja said with an air of defeat. “I don’t remember anything. I woke up in that hospital room and this guy broke in and tried to kill me, so I hit him with a vase and ran away. I have no memory of whatever happened before that.” He was rambling. Kim Dokja knew this, but couldn’t really stop himself from wanting to fill the heavy silence. This just…made him feel exposed. Almost vulnerable.

“I don’t remember my name either but, well, I think it’s Kim Dokja? You’ve been calling me that, so I would assume…unless my name is Salv-”

“No.” The man’s voice had suddenly dropped several degrees in temperature. “Your name is Kim Dokja. Forget about whatever happened earlier.”

He nodded, mind feeling hazy. Honestly, it was hard to convince himself to trust anyone, but despite everything, Kim Dokja wanted to trust this man. He had no memory of him, either, but since this guy killed the guy who wanted to kill him, he must be some kind of ally, right?

Kim Dokja opened his mouth and was about to say something more, but a distant sound of a door slamming came drifting up to them from levels below, echoing in the empty stairwell. Alert, the man quieted Kim Dokja, and the two listened in silence for any other indication of commotion. After a few seconds, the man turns to Kim Dokja again.

“We can speak in more detail once we get you back to your room.”

Without even giving him a chance to reply, the man scooped him up in a bridal carry. Caught off guard, Kim Dokja made a noise of surprise and held on to the man instinctively. His arms looped around his neck naturally, as if this hadn’t been the first time that they had been through this, he thought in sudden realization. Suddenly nervous, Kim Dokja let go like he was burned, and then instantly grabbed on again for balance as the man started moving. He seemed almost…happy, Kim Dokja thought. Something about his mood had completely changed. He stared up at his rescuer, studying his features and expression.

Dark, wavy, styled hair. A chiseled jaw that was surely the envy of all of mankind, sculpted features, and a high nose bridge. His furrowed brow exuded an imposing aura, but that only made him all the more handsome. Thick eyebrows, and black eyes that–  ah, he noticed Kim Dokja looking at him.

The man’s dark eyes looking directly at him made Kim Dokja feel at a loss for what to do. He suddenly didn’t know where to look and dropped his gaze awkwardly, as if there was something extremely interesting on the front of the man’s expensive-looking suit. The man gave a low laugh, and his hold on Kim Dokja tightened almost imperceivably.

The man carried Kim Dokja through the door of the 20th floor, and walked through a long, winding hallway. This place felt like a maze. Kim Dokja didn’t really want to think too much for fear of making his headache worse, so he settled with looking around at his surroundings. They passed by numerous white doors with curtained windows, and Kim Dokja noticed the little signs beside them indicating the room number. Definitely a hospital.

With a few more flights of stairs, Kim Dokja started to recognize the area. He had run through here before, right? The rooms on this floor seemed to be VIP, with more expensive-looking decorations and a more homely and high-end feel compared to the white, medicinal, and monotone rooms that they had passed by.

The hallway had long since been cleared. The black shapes of the…bodies(?) on the floor that he had caught a glimpse of during his flee were gone, and Kim Dokja noticed the numerous bodyguards standing near one door. “This doesn’t look like the room I was in.” Kim Dokja noted, and looked at the man questioningly. The man spoke with a patient tone, as if Kim Dokja was but a foolish child. “We’re on a different floor. Do you think I’d put you in the same room? That’s where you were just attacked, remember?”

Ah, right. He did remember. There were probably still shards of ceramic and pools of blood in there, Kim Dokja thought, cringing. The chaos of the night did not go forgotten…but for his exhaustion and his injuries, he found that he didn’t really want to think about anything. It was easier, this way. Someone else to take care of everything for him, and all he had to do was follow.

Supporting Kim Dokja simply with one hand under his legs, the man opened the door and walked in. Feeling the muscles of the man’s flexing arm, Kim Dokja had to appreciate his strength. Not even breaking a sweat after carrying another man up multiple flights of stairs and then being able to open a door with one hand while carrying him with the other was pretty impressive.

The man set him down on the bed with surprising gentleness. Kim Dokja looked up at him, and the man stared back with an odd look on his face. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth. “I’ll get a doctor to come take a look at you again. In the meantime, rest.” He turned away from Kim Dokja and towards the door.

“Wait. Before you go…” Kim Dokja couldn’t stop himself, and called out. The man turned around and watched him with dark eyes, waiting for his next words. Kim Dokja swallowed, feeling a strange sense of nervousness. “Can you, uh, tell me a little more about this situation? Who am I? What is our relationship?”

When the man didn’t answer immediately, Kim Dokja backtracked and changed his question. Coughing lightly to mask his uneasiness, he rephrased his question. “Sorry…I meant, who are you?”

A brief, tense second later, the man’s deep, low voice broke the silence of the room.

“Your name is Kim Dokja. You’re 24 years old, and you were brought to the hospital after being injured in a horrible accident. As for me…”

A smile creeps onto his handsome face, but for some reason, Kim Dokja feels a shiver go down his spine. Footsteps echoing in the silent room, the man approached the bed slowly and stopped before him.

“I’m Yoo Joonghyuk, your husband.”

Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk studied Kim Dokja’s face, looking for any indication of recognition in those wide eyes. Kim Dokja seemed shocked, then confused, and then resigned, and then finally settled with a forced, polite smile. An idiot who couldn’t control his own emotions and wore his delicate heart on his sleeve. The flicker of hope in Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest burned brighter. Maybe, just maybe. Could they go back to before?

“You’re my…husband?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, sorry. This marriage just came kinda out of left field, I mean…” Kim Dokja trailed off again, blinking. “At 24 years old?”

Yoo Joonghyuk furrowed his brow, suddenly feeling irritated. Kim Dokja didn’t seem to catch on to his displeasure, and continued to mumble to himself, wrinkling his brow in confusion. “I don’t…what? Since when…” Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t listen to this any more. He cut Kim Dokja off, voice cross.

“Kim Dokja, stop thinking so much about it. You-”

“Do you have any proof?”

The sudden interruption along with the directness of the question made Yoo Joonghyuk’s words stop in his throat. Kim Dokja looked up at him, face impassive, and waited. “If we’re married, we’ve got to have proof of being together, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk thought for a long moment about all the items that he could present for proof of identity…no, not that one. He gritted his teeth, and pulled out his wallet.

Under Kim Dokja’s curious gaze, Yoo Joonghyuk flipped open the black wallet, and used his fingers to pry out a small, folded piece of paper from the most hidden compartment. He unfolded the delicate paper, and then handed it to Kim Dokja. Almost in a daze, Kim Dokja took it.

It was a photobooth print picture, the cheap kind that you could buy with only spending a few dollars in a cramped booth. The paper was yellowing at the edges with age, but it was clearly preserved very carefully. The three small pictures on the film all contained two boys, one taller than the other. In the first picture, the taller boy was emotionless while the other grinned happily at the camera. In the second one, the boy was making a heart with his hands, while the taller one childishly put two fingers behind his head to mimic bunny ears. And the last one…

Kim Dokja could clearly tell that the taller boy was a younger Yoo Joonghyuk. Same grumpy expression, wavy hair, and handsome features, albeit a lot more childish and cuter. The other boy in the picture seemed to be…him? Kim Dokja almost didn’t recognize himself. He looked so happy, with sparkling eyes, rosy cheeks, and a smile that lit up the photo.

In the last photo, the younger Kim Dokja had turned his head and was kissing the younger Yoo Joonghyuk on the cheek. This was the only photo where Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression had changed, with his eyes slightly widened as Kim Dokja grabbed his school uniform’s tie and pulled him sideways.

Kim Dokja looked up, and his stupefied gaze crashed into Yoo Joonghyuk’s intense one. “Is this us in high school? Why do you still have this photo?”

Yoo Joonghyuk ignored the latter half of the question. “Yes. We got together in high school, and have been together ever since.” He took Kim Dokja’s silence as acceptance, and took back the photo, folding it back again and putting it in his wallet with care. “You left your wedding ring at home. Once we go back, you can put it back on.” The lies left his mouth smoothly, and he waited for Kim Dokja to question the validity of the proof or ask for more reliable evidence.

Kim Dokja said nothing.

Unexpectedly, warm hands touched his cheeks and held his face. Eyes blown wide with surprise, Yoo Joonghyuk froze as Kim Dokja reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Okay,” a soft voice agreed in his ear, and Yoo Joonghyuk stared at Kim Dokja’s smiling face.

“...You believe me?” Yoo Joonghyuk managed to force out. His heart was beating madly in his chest. Kim Dokja shrugged, and wrapped his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck.
“Yeah. I mean, you’re definitely my husband if you still have a picture of us from like, six years ago. Plus,” Kim Dokja added with a smile in his eyes. “Who am I to complain when I’m gaining such a handsome husband?”

At his stunned silence, Kim Dokja laughed and let go of Yoo Joonghyuk. He sat back down on the bed and yawned, settling down in the pillows and covers. “Sorry, Joonghyuk-ah. I’m feeling really tired. Is it alright if I…”

“Yes. Rest.” Yoo Joonghyuk managed to say. “I’ll go fetch a doctor, and you can keep sleeping.” Kim Dokja nodded, eyelids closing tiredly. “And this time, it’ll be safe here.”

“I’m not worried,” came the quiet and sleepy reply. “You’ll protect me anyways, right?”

Kim Dokja’s eyes were almost shut, but he still gave Yoo Joonghyuk a half smile before completely closing his eyes. Yoo Joonghyuk stood there, listening to Kim Dokja’s breathing until it slowed and became even.

He hadn’t heard anyone call him ‘Joonghyuk-ah’ in over six years.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the soft mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Kim Dokja was really here, lying in front of him, defenseless and clueless of his current situation.

He reached a hand out to brush a few strands of Kim Dokja’s hair out of his eyes. His hair was soft and almost tickled Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand. The same dark hair. Same pale, smooth skin. Same dark, impossibly long lashes. Soft lips and slender body. Everything had changed between them, but at the same time, nothing had even shifted. They were back to that carefree, happy relationship that the two had shared under the green branches and leaves, sunlight sifting through the gaps and landing on Kim Dokja’s laughing face in beautiful dashes of gold.

Could he dare to hope?

It felt like his Kim Dokja had returned to him. He chased it, desperate for warmth and the only one his heart had ever beat for. But at the same time, a small part of him writhes in anger, questioning himself and demanding for how he could ever be so traitorous. He pushes it away, shutting his eyes as the emotions battled in his chest. He was supposed to hate Kim Dokja. He was supposed to kill Kim Dokja in cold revenge for what he had done to Yoo Joonghyuk. His blood was to be spilt, and his pulse to be stopped.

But when that same pale face forced out a weak smile, the emotions of clear guilt, pain and sadness written clearly across his face…and when his last words were not derisive or contemptuous, but a simple sentence that-

He couldn’t do it. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill him.

And then, when Kim Dokja woke up.

Yoo Joonghyuk had found the room in utter chaos, with the IVs dangling helplessly at the stand, and a mess of broken ceramic vase pieces and drops of dark, red blood. The two bodyguards outside had been reduced to a pile of cold bodies, and Kim Dokja was nowhere to be found. His heart felt like it was being squeezed, and he had roared for his men to search and secure the perimeter. He himself had raced after the almost unnoticeable trail of blood, and found Kim Dokja pinned down in a stairwell with another man holding a gun to his head.

After the gunshot, when Kim Dokja had looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, his face as white as a sheet, Yoo Joonghyuk felt as if something was different. Even in the face of death, the unshakable Kim Dokja was calm and collected, as if his past, present, and future had already been written in a book that he had read many many times. He would welcome death with open arms and fearless eyes, but this time, this one time, Kim Dokja had let emotion paint his features.

When Kim Dokja admitted his memory loss, hope, yearning, and sudden joy bubbled up in Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest. He had originally felt only anger for almost letting Kim Dokja be killed by someone else, but now his emotions had changed entirely. Kim Dokja didn’t remember anything. He didn’t remember their falling out, the pain and suffering and separation that had transpired. This was their chance to start anew.

Kim Dokja had looked at him with tired confusion and vulnerability. Kim Dokja had stared at his face, lost in thought and admiring his features in the same childish way that he had done in the past. Kim Dokja had sat on the bed and nervously asked for his own name and Yoo Joonghyuk’s relationship to him.

All of these things, Salvation would not do. Kim Dokja was finally before him once more, without the lies and walls he puts up around himself. But what if Kim Dokja started remembering again?

He would run away again and hide, Yoo Joonghyuk thought, a burning fury rising up in his gut. Kim Dokja would deny everything, and slip out of Yoo Joonghyuk’s grasp just like he did many times before. Like the misty remnants of a dream dissipating in the morning air, Kim Dokja would disappear and leave Yoo Joonghyuk behind again.

His fingers found Kim Dokja’s throat. The sleeping man’s breathing was slow but shallow, and Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his weak pulse against his hand.

If he squeezed, he could end this all here.

“...I can really only have you if you’re dead,” Yoo Joonghyuk said quietly to the person in a deep sleep before him. Killing intent radiated from his body, and for a second, his fingers tightened.

After a long while, he stood up, withdrawing his hand from Kim Dokja’s neck.

The door clicked shut behind him.

“Double the security in front of these doors. I want patrols on every floor.”

Chapter Text

The next few days passed like a blur. Kim Dokja’s life consisted only of a repetition of eating tasteless hospital food, falling into a dazed slumber, and having doctors fuss over him. Actually, scratch that. He only ever met one doctor during his time here – a beautiful woman with pale hair like moonlight.

He had vaguely felt something familiar about her, and tentatively asked for her name. Smiling softly, she simply told him to call her Doctor Lee, and left it at that. On the other hand, the handful of nurses looking after him seemed unable to look him in the eye, and he’d caught them staring before then looking away quickly like they were afraid of something. Huh.

Yoo Joonghyuk visited him often, but he was often either sleeping or half-conscious due to the pain medication they kept him on. Sometimes, while half awake, Kim Dokja could sense Yoo Joonghyuk sneak into his hospital room in the late hours of the night and just watch him sleep.

“...Joonghyuk.”

The taller man stiffened and stopped in his tracks towards the door. Kim Dokja rubbed his eyes and pushed himself into a semi-sitting position. His voice groggy and sluggish from sleep, he called out to his husband. “What are you doing here?” Kim Dokja turned towards the digital clock sitting on the far table. “It’s nearly three am.”

“I came to check on you,” came the quiet reply. Yoo Joonghyuk doubled back towards him, and Kim Dokja had to crane his neck to look up at his husband’s face. The tall, built man extended a hand, pausing almost in hesitation, before petting Kim Dokja’s hair gently and then sliding his hand to cradle the side of his face. Kim Dokja leaned into his palm, watching Yoo Joonghyuk’s face.

In the dim moonlight, he could tell that Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t been sleeping well. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the messiness of his hair was completely unlike him, but for some funny reason, Kim Dokja just found that it just made him all the more handsome. He smiled and blinked his eyes at Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Thanks. You’ve been thinking of me?”

Kim Dokja laughed at Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression. “I mean, you look like you haven’t been sleeping well. Missed me?”

Yoo Joonghyuk was unusually quiet. When he opened his mouth again, Kim Dokja thought he caught the faintest trace of vulnerability.

“Yeah.”

Kim Dokja smiled and took Yoo Joonghyuk's wrist, pulling it away from his face. Yoo Joonghyuk watched him carefully as Kim Dokja shifted sideways on the hospital bed, gingerly pulling the IVs on his arm to the side, and cleared a space beside him. Kim Dokja patted the space beside him, and looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk expectantly.

“What?”

“Idiot. Come lie down, here.”

Kim Dokja stretched out his arms towards Yoo Joonghyuk. “I haven’t been sleeping that well without you, either. Come.”

After a brief hesitation, Yoo Joonghyuk laid down beside Kim Dokja. Feeling the bed dip under the man’s weight, Kim Dokja seemed to realize far too late that the bed, despite being fairly comfortable and spacious, was much too small for two adult men. Yoo Joonghyuk had one hand over his waist, and was holding Kim Dokja close to his chest. He could even hear the strong, slightly fast heartbeat beating against the man’s ribcage. The intimacy made him feel almost embarrassed – despite knowing that he was, in fact, already married…well, he didn’t remember any of it, right?

He was about to open his mouth to say something, but then Yoo Joonghyuk let out a long, heavy sigh and closed his eyes. The hand at his waist tightened for a second, and then, as if remembering his injury, relaxed ever so slightly.

He felt like he couldn’t say anything after that. Yoo Joonghyuk was clearly tired, and they could make do with this situation. He reached up and touched Yoo Joonghyuk’s curls, studying the way his hair would fall over his brows and one eye. Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to not like the ticklish sensation, and caught his wrist. He opened his eyes, brow furrowing slightly, and reprimanded, “Kim Dokja. Go to sleep.”

Kim Dokja laughed lightly and tapped a finger against Yoo Joonghyuk’s forehead. “Fine, but don’t frown. Your face is gonna stay like that permanently if you keep doing it, you know.” He tapped his forehead another couple of times before Yoo Joonghyuk begrudgingly changed his expression, and stared down at Kim Dokja with an unexplainable look on his face.

“Okay, okay. I’ll sleep.”

Feeling his husband’s intense gaze on his face, staring as if he wanted to smite a hole on his face, Kim Dokja closed his eyes with a smile on his lips. Before long, the lull of the strong, comforting heartbeat by his ear made sleep come quickly. Yoo Joonghyuk’s breathing was slow and even, and Kim Dokja was comfortable. His body temperature had always been on the lower side, and Yoo Joonghyuk’s body heat warmed him up like a furnace.

Before he completely passed out, he heard Yoo Joonghyuk murmur something by his ear.

“Let’s go home together, Kim Dokja.”

Without even opening his eyes, Kim Dokja hummed a quiet reply yes, and then let comfortable, dreamless sleep take him.

.

.

.

“Wait, you were serious?”

Kim Dokja sat in the bed, staring dumbfoundedly as Yoo Joonghyuk stood beside Doctor Lee, who had her arms crossed and an uncharacteristically annoyed expression on her face.

“Yes. We’re going home.” Yoo Joonghyuk said matter of factly. This morning, Kim Dokja had been dressed in casual, comfortable homewear instead of the usual hospital outfit. He looked sideways at Doctor Lee, and discovered that she was glaring at Yoo Joonghyuk. Yoo Joonghyuk pretended not to notice her and just looked at Kim Dokja expectantly.

“Uhh…and Doctor Lee gave permission?”

“N-” The white-haired woman started, brow furrowed, but Yoo Joonghyuk cut across immediately. “Yes. Let’s go home, Kim Dokja.”

Doctor Lee returned Kim Dokja’s questioning look with a helpless shake of her head, and then agreed begrudgingly. “Fine. Mr. Kim, please be careful with your stitches and make sure that you don’t get them wet when showering, because that can lead to infection. Change your bandages once a day. Be sure that you’re well-rested, because head injuries and amnesia aren’t to be taken lightly. Take your medicine at the same time every day, and make sure,” she stopped to stare at Yoo Joonghyuk threateningly, “that you aren’t overly stressed. Treat yourself well and eat healthy, nutritious food. And-”

“I can take care of it.” Yoo Joonghyuk interrupted, voice sounding irritated. “I’m his husband. I can take care of him perfectly well.”

Kim Dokja noticed an odd look flash across the doctor’s face, but it quickly vanished, and he almost wondered if he had hallucinated it. A smile, albeit a bit forced, spread across the doctor’s beautiful face. “Alright. I trust that you will, Mr. Yoo.”

.

.

.

So that’s how Kim Dokja ended up in this huge, gorgeous mansion of a home. He stared at the sprawling, modern house before him, and nearly had to pick his jaw up from his lap. Yoo Joonghyuk was watching him with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“This is our place?” Kim Dokja managed to say.

“Yes.” Yoo Joonghyuk answered simply as he drove the car through the gates and followed the road to park the car in the garage. As the garage doors rumbled closed, Yoo Joonghyuk shut the ignition of the luxury car off and circled around to open the door for Kim Dokja. Before Kim Dokja could even attempt to get out himself, Yoo Joonghyuk had picked him up easily and carried him again bridal style while closing the car door with the side of his arm.

Damn it, this guy really liked carrying him in this weird position, Kim Dokja thought embarrassedly. Although Doctor Lee had warned him against overexerting himself, he surely would be fine if he walked around a bit. He literally ran flights of stairs and fought for his life mere days ago. Surely he’d be fine now!

However, Yoo Joonghyuk turned a deaf ear to his protests, and Kim Dokja had to resign himself to being carried everywhere by his husband. When they reached the bedroom, Kim Dokja had to ask Yoo Joonghyuk how he carried him up two flights of stairs (again) without even breaking a sweat. “How are you doing that?? Aren’t you tired from carrying me all over the place?”

“You’re not heavy,” came the simple answer.

Kim Dokja sighed in resignation and turned his attention to study the room he was in. A huge, sparsely decorated room. The decor was simple and tasteful, but Kim Dokja knew that everything must cost an arm and a leg. The room was mostly in tones of dark wood, browns and white highlights, with some decorations, and had a floor to ceiling window that cast warm, golden sunlight throughout the entire room. Outside the window, the lawn below was lush and green, and in the further distance, distinct against the other trees, Kim Dokja could see a tall, curved weeping willow with thin, drooping branches that gently rippled in the breeze.

“What are you thinking about?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s question broke the silence between them, and Kim Dokja turned to look at him. He smiled, and stretched out a hand towards Yoo Joonghyuk. At his movement, Yoo Joonghyuk walked towards him, and Kim Dokja suddenly had the feeling that he was the owner of a grumpy dog who looked scary on the surface but really only was a big softie. He had to hold back his laugh at that ridiculous thought, looking at the built, intimidating man before him. Who in the world would take a look at this scary guy and think that he looked like a puppy?

“Nothing. The house is nice. It’s a shame I don’t remember anything about it.” Kim Dokja said with a smile. He took Yoo Joonghyuk’s wrist and pulled him closer. Or at least, attempted to. He could hardly get this guy to budge, but Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to notice and willingly came closer.

Kim Dokja held on to the front of Yoo Joonghyuk’s slightly wrinkled suit and touched his forehead to his abdomen, closing his eyes and giving a sigh. He and Yoo Joonghyuk probably had so many memories here, but he lost all of them and there was no guarantee that they would come back complete, or even at all.

He breathed in Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent, one that’s as commanding as his presence – a striking cologne that smelt like cedarwood and musk, but also a faint tone of jasmine flower. Everyone says scent carries memory, but Kim Dokja found that he still couldn’t remember anything. Even the odd, faint scent of jasmine didn’t stir up any memories for him.

“Joonghyuk-ah.” Kim Dokja said, voice slightly muffled in the expensive fabric of Yoo Joonghyuk’s tailored suit. “Can you tell me a bit more about what I was like before the accident?”

He looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk and tried for a smile, but he knew it didn’t quite reach his eyes by the way that his husband reacted. Yoo Joonghyuk’s face remained impassive, but for a brief moment, there was an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. It was a fleeting gesture, quickly controlled, but Kim Dokja’s careful eye noticed it immediately.

Something had definitely happened to them before. Had they argued before Kim Dokja was involved in the accident? That would certainly explain the oddities in Yoo Joonghyuk’s behaviour. Some kind of guilt could definitely be the cause of all the strange moments between them. Kim Dokja allowed his mind to wander.

Although it had been vivid and clear and terrifying in the moment, Kim Dokja found that he couldn’t remember much about the night he was attacked and saved by Yoo Joonghyuk. He had been in far too much pain, and the haze of adrenaline mixed with relief blurred his memories of the night. What had Yoo Joonghyuk said? Something about…killing? Someone else killing him? And how he had gotten soft? And…he had called him Salvation, instead of Kim Dokja.

“Sorry, let me make my question a little more specific.” Kim Dokja said, drawing back and looking up at Yoo Joonghyuk. “Like, my family? My job, my friends? Can you tell me a bit about them?”

“Your parents are living overseas.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was low when he answered. “You worked as a…an actor. You don’t have many close friends.”

Ouch. Kim Dokja winced. Not many close friends?

Yoo Joonghyuk continued on, his gaze never leaving Kim Dokja’s face. “You were a decently famous movie actor, but you retired a few months ago due to stalker fans.”

Oh, Kim Dokja thought, nodding to himself. That makes sense. That’s probably who injured him in the first initial accident, and then probably also who had attacked and injured him in the hospital. Wait, now that he thought about it, didn’t Yoo Joonghyuk shoot and kill him?

“Wait, wait… so you killed the stalker fan that day?” Kim Dokja asked, holding up a hand to pause Yoo Joonghyuk, and touched the other to his temple while wrinkling his brow.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze darkened. “Don’t ask unnecessary questions, Kim Dokja.” His large hand pressed down Kim Dokja’s head and messed up his hair. “Just focus on getting better and think about the rest later.” Seconds later, Yoo Joonghyuk had strode out of the room with the promises of “lunch”.

Kim Dokja flopped down on the bed and sprawled out, staring at the ceiling and thinking hard. Damn, they had a more complicated situation than he had initially thought. Strangely enough, he found that he didn’t care too much about the “Joonghyuk is a murderer” part. Something must be gravely wrong with his moral compass. Well, he thought, half comforting himself, that guy had been so ready to kill him anyways. If it hadn’t been the stalker fan with a bullet hole in his head, it would have been Kim Dokja.

He closed his eyes. Whatever. He needs to stop thinking so much. His head had started hurting again.

Chapter Text

A while later, Yoo Joonghyuk came back with a tray of food. Kim Dokja sat up, the book flipping shut in his hands. “Wow, Joonghyuk. Did you make that?”

He watched with interest as Yoo Joonghyuk set the tray on the bedside table and let his husband pull him up to a sitting position. He had been served porridge in the hospital as well, but this chicken rice porridge looked and smelled so much better. There were a couple of small vegetable side dishes as well, and even those looked as if they’d been prepared in a five Michelin star restaurant. He had no idea Yoo Joonghyuk was such a great cook.

“Sit up properly.” Yoo Joonghyuk propped him up against the pillows.

“Hey,” Kim Dokja protested. “I can go eat at a table.” Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him and picked up the bowl of porridge and a spoon. Kim Dokja watched warily as Yoo Joonghyuk scooped up some rice porridge and held it up.

“Open your mouth.” Yoo Joonghyuk ordered. Kim Dokja eyed him and didn’t move. The man seemed to think of something, and blew at the spoon to cool the steaming porridge down. The sight was so funny to Kim Dokja, watching this huge, intimidating guy carefully cool down a spoonful of food to feed his injured husband, that he couldn’t help himself from laughing. He gave in and leaned forward to accept the spoonful of porridge.

Kim Dokja’s eyes lit up upon tasting the delicious food. He made a noise of appreciation and nodded at Yoo Joonghyuk. “It’s really good, thanks.” He held his hand up and motioned for Yoo Joonghyuk to give him the spoon, but his husband didn’t budge and just stared at him stubbornly.

Out of options, Kim Dokja accepted his fate and let Yoo Joonghyuk feed him the entire bowl and side dishes. Ah, well. They probably did that kind of embarrassing, lovey-dovey stuff often in high school. Although, Kim Dokja thought as he watched Yoo Joonghyuk collect the dishes and walk out with the tray. He can’t really imagine Yoo Joonghyuk wearing any expression other than that grumpy, impassive look.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Since Kim Dokja was off the IV medication, which makes him incredibly drowsy, he was now wide awake and incredibly bored. Although he was home now, Yoo Joonghyuk still restricted him to the bedroom and forbade him from exploring the house. As if that would stop him.

Yoo Joonghyuk was sitting quietly on the couch in the bedroom with a stack of papers in his lap. He had told Kim Dokja that he was taking care of some work, but would still be there to keep him company. Kim Dokja would sneak peeks at him over the boring self-improvement book that he had found on the bedside table, studying his serious profile and the way that the light from the window reflected in his dark eyes. When Yoo Joonghyuk’s phone started ringing in his pocket from where he sat in the bedroom, Kim Dokja watched his husband scowl and stand up upon seeing the caller ID. “Kim Dokja. I’m going to take care of something. Don’t leave this room.”

Kim Dokja nodded. When Yoo Joonghyuk shut the door behind him, Kim Dokja waited a few minutes for the muffled sounds of Yoo Joonghyuk’s footsteps to disappear. When he was sure that Yoo Joonghyuk was gone, he slowly pulled back the covers, gently swung his legs over the side of the bed, and made his way to the door.

The door opened with a soft click. Kim Dokja stuck his head out, and looked down the hallway. Completely empty. He left the room.

He was on the second floor of the mansion. After walking for a bit, he emerged from the hallway to the master bedroom to the railing and the grand, curved foyer staircase. One hand brushing the dark mahogany banisters, Kim Dokja leaned over to look over at the floor below.

The windows in the foyer lit the space up in a warm glow. There was a large living room area to his left, with a flat screen TV and what looked like a gaming system. On the farther side, there seemed to be a dining hall. Kim Dokja walked down the stairs, looking around him curiously. It was almost surprising. For a house that they had presumably owned for years, it had few traces of being lived in.

He reached the first floor and turned around to look up at his surroundings. A simple chandelier hung above the entrance area. The whole house’s design was tasteful and spacious, grand yet not flamboyant. He turned to walk around, when someone suddenly came barreling into him.

Despite the force of the crash, Kim Dokja remained standing and only stumbled back a bit. He grimaced as the movement brought back a jolt of pain in his abdomen. The other person was not so lucky – she had been thrown back and fell to the ground with a yelp of pain. The girl groaned and cursed under her breath, her long dark ponytail swaying as she looked upwards with a furious expression.

“Can’t you watch where you’re- AAAIIIEEEEEE!” She screamed in terror, face going as white as a sheet as she pointed at Kim Dokja with a trembling finger. “A gh, ghost!”

“What?” Kim Dokja stared at her, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Did kids these days really still believe that stuff? He sighed and extended a hand to the shaking girl on the ground. “Come on, get up. Don’t be ridiculous.” She didn’t take it, terrified gaze going from his hand to his face. Without waiting for a reply, Kim Dokja bent down, took her wrist, and hauled her up.

The girl’s expression visibly relaxed at Kim Dokja’s contact. “O-Oh…okay, you’re solid, I guess…” She stood there before Kim Dokja, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she nervously studied his face. “Wait…then you are…”

Before Kim Dokja could even say anything else, her expression cleared and she clapped a fist to her hand. “Ah, I get it! You’re the replacement for…him, brought here by the heartbroken and grieving Master!”

?

She looked at him with a mixture of pity and understanding. No, what was she talking about? Replacement? Before he could even start to sort out this jumbled mess of a plot that this young girl was undoubtedly cooking up in her head, she stepped forward, eyes sparkling with interest and excitement, and suddenly grabbed his face.

??

He was pulled downwards by a few inches, uncomfortably hunched as the girl pinched his cheeks and touched his face curiously. “Oh god, I should have known. The real him would never have let me do this, anyways! Ahjussi, your skin is really soft–”

A furious shout came from above them.

“Kim Dokja!”

The girl let go of him and jumped back as if she’d been burned. Kim Dokja whipped his head around to see Yoo Joonghyuk leaning against the second floor banister and staring down at the two of them with a livid expression. The girl darted behind him and cowered as Yoo Joonghyuk stormed down the stairs, but the furious man didn’t even look at her.

He grabbed Kim Dokja’s wrist, scowling. “Why are you out here? I told you to stay inside!” Kim Dokja was suddenly at a loss for words, saying nothing. Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to take his silence as an answer, and his angry expression turned even darker. He pulled Kim Dokja behind him, and then turned to the girl. “Lee Jihye. You’re forbidden to enter my home without permission!”

Lee Jihye shrunk back under his furious gaze. “Master…I’m sorry, but I really had to! You weren’t answering any of your calls or messages, so they told me to come find you in person…and,” she said, turning to look at Kim Dokja. “I, I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t listen to her. “Go back. Don’t come here without my permission again.” He commanded, and then turned his attention back to Kim Dokja, pulling him forward by his wrist and back up the stairs.

Kim Dokja nearly stumbled, forced to run so that he could keep up with Yoo Joonghyuk. He gasped, “Wait, Joonghyuk. Slow down!” However, Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him and dragged him back to the master bedroom.

When they reached the room, Yoo Joonghyuk shut the door behind him with a loud bang and slammed his arm down on the wall beside Kim Dokja’s head, effectively caging him in. Kim Dokja flinched and looked at Yoo Joonghyuk with wide eyes.

“Why can’t you ever listen?” Yoo Joonghyuk said through gritted teeth. “I told you to stay inside. Was that too much to ask?”

“No, but you’re being really overprotective, Yoo Joonghyuk.” Kim Dokja protested, pushing his hands against Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest. “I can handle myself, really. I just got really bored in this room…you can’t expect me to just do nothing!”

“You shouldn’t leave the room.” Yoo Joonghyuk repeated darkly. “You need rest, and you shouldn’t go outside for your safety.” Kim Dokja sighed. Why was Yoo Joonghyuk so paranoid about him going outside? He couldn’t deny that his husband cared for him, but he didn’t like the way that Yoo Joonghyuk tried to control his every move. It gave him this weird taste in his mouth, almost as if his family had… he…

He touched a hand to his head and winced. What was this about his family? Did something happen between his parents in the past?

Yoo Joonghyuk noticed the change in his condition, and his voice changed to one of concern. “Kim Dokja?”

Kim Dokja shook his head to clear the clouds in his mind. “I’m fine. I…”

“What did Lee Jihye tell you?”

The topic change threw Kim Dokja off. “Huh?”

“What did she tell you.”

“She…didn’t say much. She just bumped into me and was surprised, that’s all.”

“Really? That’s why she screamed?”

“Uhh, I guess so.” Kim Dokja didn’t really feel like telling Yoo Joonghyuk the entire truth. Something wasn’t right here, and it wouldn’t be in his best interests if he told Yoo Joonghyuk everything honestly.

Were they even really married?

“Joonghyuk-ah, I feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

A crease formed between Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows as he furrowed his brow in a complicated expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, ever since I lost my memory, you’ve kind of kept me in the dark about everything. Shouldn’t you tell me a bit more about what my life was like before the accident?”

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent for a long time. Just when Kim Dokja thought that he was about to get angry, he let go and stepped back. His voice was quiet and resigned when he spoke.

“...What do you want to know?”

“Oh, well, uh…” The response came so suddenly that Kim Dokja scrambled to find a question to ask. “So, we met in high school…I’m an actor…oh, where do you work?”

“I’m the CEO of a company,” Yoo Joonghyuk answered simply. His eyes remained on Kim Dokja. “What else do you want to know?”

Oh, that makes sense. It would explain the luxury and extravagance of his lifestyle. Kim Dokja thought for a second. “Who was that Lee Jihye? Is she your student? I think she called you ‘master’...”

“She’s my assistant secretary. She isn’t usually allowed to come to our home without warning, but she barged in today.”

“Ah, I see. What about your family? Do I know them? Are we close with them?”

There was an edge to Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice when he answered.

“My parents died when I was a child. My guardian passed away six years ago.”

Shit. He seemed to have stumbled onto a touchy subject. “Oh…I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible. I’m sorry for asking.”

Yoo Joonghyuk watched Kim Dokja intently, to the point that he started to feel uncomfortable and avoided his gaze. Well. A few questions testing if Yoo Joonghyuk was actually his husband wouldn’t hurt, right? “Uh…so do you know what my favourite food is?”

“Omurice.”

Okay, that sounds about right. “What about my least favourite food?”

“Tomatoes.”

Also correct. He remembered the hospital cherry tomatoes and had to suppress a shiver of disgust. When he paused, Yoo Joonghyuk took the chance and spoke.

“You like rainy weather, but only when you’re inside. You dislike loud environments, but you don’t mind it if you’re with people you’re close with. You’re terrible at cooking. You like eating desserts, but only if they're not too sweet. You like reading. It’s almost all that you do.”

Kim Dokja listened quietly as Yoo Joonghyuk listed off the little things about him. Despite his amnesia, he knew that Yoo Joonghyuk was right. He felt a little more reassured now that he knew Yoo Joonghyuk probably wasn’t lying to him, but still, what Lee Jihye said to him had been replaying in his mind.

Ah, screw it. Kim Dokja thought, and barreled on with his next question.

“Have you been married before?”

“No.” Yoo Joonghyuk sounded taken aback. “It’s only even been you. Why do you ask?”

Why did Lee Jihye call him a replacement then? Either the assistant secretary was incredibly uninformed about something…or Yoo Joonghyuk was lying.

“Wait.” Yoo Joonghyuk strode over to the nightstand and opened one of the drawers. Kim Dokja watched as he pulled out a velvet box. He motioned for him to come closer, and Kim Dokja did as he was told. “Give me your hand.”

Kim Dokja held up his right hand, and Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him as if he was stupid. “Give me your left hand.”

A delicate, silver wedding band slid onto Kim Dokja’s ring finger. He blinked down at the sparkling ring, admiring the way the small diamond glistened in the light, and then looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk. “This is…”

“Your wedding ring.” Yoo Joonghyuk held up his hand to show him the matching one on his own hand. Kim Dokja looked down again to study his ring. It was beautiful, and it was the perfect size on his hand.

Maybe they really were married.

Chapter Text

In the end, Yoo Joonghyuk agreed to letting Kim Dokja roam freely around the house, under the condition that he never leave the building without Yoo Joonghyuk. For his own safety, Yoo Joonghyuk had insisted. There was no way of knowing if there were other insane fans out there that wanted to hurt Kim Dokja.

Kim Dokja had also tried to ask for his phone, but Yoo Joonghyuk had been firm in refusing. “It would be best if you stayed off the internet,” he had said, and left no room for negotiation. But Kim Dokja found that he didn’t care that much, as his husband had kindly showed him to the small library full of his favorite fictional novels. And now that he had amnesia, he could happily read these all over again and enjoy them like it was his first time.

.

.

.

The sun had set. Kim Dokja looked up from where he was curled up on the couch, a book in his lap. The last rays of the sun had completely disappeared over the horizon, and the view from the window was dark. He looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. Nearly ten.

Behind him, Yoo Joonghyuk switched on the light of the living room. Kim Dokja looked up, craning his neck backwards as the shadow of his husband enveloped him. He grinned at his husband’s face, upside-down in his vision, and reached a hand upward.

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“Why are you reading in the dark?”

“I forgot to turn on the light…”

“It’s getting late. You need to go to bed.” Yoo Joonghyuk took his hand, and Kim Dokja blinked innocently up at him. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and walked around the couch to pull him up. “Come on. You still need to change your bandages.”

“I just washed this morning at the hospital,” Kim Dokja protested. “I don’t need to change my bandages.”

His husband ignored him completely and with one strong move, pulled him up into a standing position. Kim Dokja groaned and begrudgingly followed him up the staircase.

.

.

.

“Take off your clothes.”

Yoo Joonghyuk crossed his arms and stared at Kim Dokja. The latter stared defiantly back.

“Only after you leave.”

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and stepped forward. Kim Dokja, looking flustered, instantly backed away, holding his arms around himself protectively. “Yoo Joonghyuk! I can change by myself!”

“Not your bandages. I’m helping you with that.”

“I can also do that by myself!”

“No, you can’t. Do you even know how to dress stitches?” When Kim Dokja was silent, Yoo Joonghyuk took it to himself to slip Kim Dokja’s cardigan off his shoulders and arms, tossing it onto the bed carelessly. Kim Dokja instantly retreated again. “Okay, okay! I’ll take off my clothes myself. Just…turn around.”

“We’re married. Don’t be so shy.” He found that the lie was easy now. So exceptionally natural, as if this was how it was supposed to be from the very start. He tried not to think about it, but… how would Kim Dokja react once his memories returned and he realized Yoo Joonghyuk’s bold-faced lies?

The thought put him in a bad mood immediately. His expression must have betrayed him, for Kim Dokja grimaced and turned around himself, seemingly attributing his change in mood to his reluctance to change. “Fine, I’ll turn around.”

Yoo Joonghyuk watched intently as Kim Dokja took the corners of his shirt and pulled it over his head with some difficulty. His eyes widened at the sight of his back.

On Kim Dokja’s back, there was a delicate, sprawling tattoo of black and red. At the very center of his back, there was a circular spiked halo intertwined with pitch-black wings that spread across his shoulder blades and downward. The tattoo across his back was a masterpiece of intricate design and dark allure, with crimson spider lilies unfurling gracefully on his skin. The black wings and the blood red lilies were a stark contrast against his pale skin.

He reached out to trace a finger against the tattoo. Kim Dokja jumped at the sudden contact, and whipped his head around with an accusatory glare. Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head silently, and pulled up a chair for Kim Dokja to sit on. Yoo Joonghyuk sat down on the bed himself, leaving the two of them just close enough so that Yoo Joonghyuk could tend to his wounds.

The first aid kit popped open with a click, and Yoo Joonghyuk got a wash basin and towel to gently clean Kim Dokja’s wounds. His eyes wandered over Kim Dokja’s back. He was so pale that the scars were almost invisible against his skin, but Yoo Joonghyuk found them nonetheless. A long jagged one across his lower back, almost hidden by the delicate petals of the scarlet spider lilies. Faint, almost unnoticeable dots that looked like cigarette burns on his side, close to his ribs. One that looked particularly painful– a deep scar on his side that must have been from a brutal knife wound. 

A pang of guilt hit him as he realized that the purple and blue bruising on Kim Dokja’s body seemed to hide a lot of his remaining scars. He…no. It wasn’t of any importance.

He applied ointment onto his bruises. A storm of emotions were raging inside of him, and Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know what to feel. He had never known about the tattoo, but it was natural for Kim Dokja to have one, as the most infamous mafia boss of the Underworld.. And the scars…well, Yoo Joonghyuk had seen some of them before, over six years ago, but many of these were new. 

While he had been stuck in the past, Kim Dokja had moved forward and changed without him. Even his tattoo was evidence of this… the Kim Dokja that he once knew wouldn’t have gotten something like this. It was a display of both the beauty of fragility and power, and the clear symbol of a ruthless, fearsome mafia boss.

A low, unknown fury suddenly rose up inside of him. Without even noticing, his hand was more forceful, and Kim Dokja let out a quiet hiss of pain. He looked over his shoulder at Yoo Joonghyuk with a hurt expression. “Yoo Joonghyuk?”

Ah. He snapped back to the present. Kim Dokja was frowning at him. “What’s wrong?”

“...Sorry.” He forced himself to be more attentive, taking care to not apply unnecessary pressure.

Kim Dokja had always been slim, but he looked like he had lost weight. His waist was thin, and despite the appearance of slight toned muscles, he didn’t look like he had been eating well or taking care of himself. From Yoo Joonghyuk's perspective like this, the slope of his pale neck was fragile and vulnerable. Yoo Joonghyuk gritted his teeth. With a body like his, why would he do this to himself?

Kim Dokja had been quiet the whole time, but he broke the silence as Yoo Joonghyuk started to unravel the bandages at his waist.  “Done?” He turned around halfway, and then tried to stand up, but Yoo Joonghyuk pressed him down.

“No. Go lie on the bed.”

“Huh? I–”

“I haven’t even cleaned your stitches yet. Lie down.”

Kim Dokja obediently laid down. Yoo Joonghyuk sat down beside him again and looked down at him. Kim Dokja’s face was slightly red, and he lifted an arm to shield his face from Yoo Joonghyuk. The dim lighting made the atmosphere feel almost intimate, and Yoo Joonghyuk realized that far too late.

“Stop staring. Hurry up, I’m cold.”

Kim Dokja’s voice was low, and he turned his face away from Yoo Joonghyuk. He really liked seeing this side of Kim Dokja. Giving a low laugh, Yoo Joonghyuk wrung out the towel and pulled the remaining bandages away.

The stitches were on the right side of Kim Dokja’s abdomen. The bandages came away red, and Yoo Joonghyuk furrowed his brows. “Your stitches were bleeding.”

“Ah? Oh, I didn’t notice…”

Kim Dokja moved his hand away from his face and tried to sit up to look at his wound, but Yoo Joonghyuk gave him a withering look and he sheepishly laid still again. “How did you do this to yourself again ?”

“I didn’t.” Kim Dokja protested. “I was just minding my own business…Lee Jihye, she…” He trailed off.

Yoo Joonghyuk caught the key word. “Lee Jihye? Did she hurt you?”

“No, of course not. We just ran into each other–” Yoo Joonghyuk interrupted him, rubbing his knuckle into his furrowed brow. “Lee Jihye. She is never coming into this house again.”

“Hey, don’t be so harsh on the kid. I should’ve been watching where I was going.” He was defending her. This softhearted reaction was so characteristic of the Kim Dokja he once knew.

He wanted to know what she told Kim Dokja. He had been acting oddly after speaking to her, and god knows what kind of bullshit she had spewed. Kim Dokja had seemed suspicious and interrogated him, but he had been prepared for all this. After all, it wasn’t hard to answer based on their history. 

But previously married? It was always him. Only him.

In life or in death, they were meant to be together.

.

.

.

[Twelve years ago]

Yoo Joonghyuk had recently transferred to this school. He had only just arrived, but was already extremely sick of this environment.

As expected, his new classmates swarmed him. Empty, vapid conversation, only aimed to get closer to him to have some sort of connection with the only heir of the N’Gai Conglomerate. Due to his background, he was used to this treatment.

So noisy.

He thought, ignoring the crowd of girls at his desk and looking out the window. Rain was falling hard, tapping against the glass with a vigor. The month of April brought heavy showers. Through his peripheral vision, he noticed the empty desk beside him. It had been two days since he had been assigned to this seat, but he hadn’t seen his deskmate even a single time. Another troublemaker, probably. Skipping class was never the indication of a good student.

The bell rang, signaling to the class that break was over and it was time for the physical education period. The crowd at his desk started to dissipate, with students chattering as they flocked off to the change rooms to switch into their PE uniforms. One especially persistent girl lingered behind and shyly offered to show him to the change rooms, but one look from Yoo Joonghyuk caused her to scurry out the door.

He finally stood after the classroom cleared out. Walking over to the sliding door at the back of the classroom, he pulled it open and headed in the direction of the gymnasium.

As he passed by the boys bathroom, he heard loud, jeering laughter. Wrinkling his brow, Yoo Joonghyuk ignored it and continued in the direction of his next class. He didn’t care enough to get involved with whatever was going on.

After he turned the corner, he suddenly remembered that his gym clothes were still inside of his backpack, still in the classroom’s storage cabinets. With a sigh, he turned around.

Rapid footsteps were approaching from the distance, getting louder by the second. Before Yoo Joonghyuk could even react, someone had crashed directly into him.

Yoo Joonghyuk staggered and took a few steps back from the impact. The person that had crashed into him fell backwards onto the floor, books and backpack hitting the floor loudly. Yoo Joonghyuk scowled. Who the hell would be in such a hurry like this? However, he stopped in his tracks when he got a good look at the person before him.

The boy was drenched in water, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in strands. His clothes were soaked, as if he had just run a marathon through the rain. But why would he, if class had started hours ago, and there was no reason to go outside?

He was startled at the look in the boy’s eyes. Those dark eyes were half hidden behind thick-framed glasses, but even then, Yoo Joonghyuk could see the weariness and the misery in the boy’s face. There was a bandage on his cheek, and Yoo Joonghyuk could see a large, ugly bruise on the side of his neck peeking out of his collar.

The boy scrambled up in a second, stumbling slightly as he got to his feet. Instinctively, Yoo Joonghyuk reached out to help him, but the boy flinched away and quickly gathered his scattered belongings. Before Yoo Joonghyuk could say anything, the boy bowed quickly and ran off, his footsteps disappearing into the distance.

Yoo Joonghyuk stood there, staring at the direction the boy disappeared. 

Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk saw the boy again the next day. He had made his way to the rooftop for a moment of peace away from the chaos of the classroom during lunch, and nearly tripped over the boy while turning the corner by the stair landing in the stairwell.

The boy jumped, nearly dropping his triangle kimbap. Yoo Joonghyuk hurriedly grabbed onto the banister in order to not fall on top of the boy. The two awkwardly stared at each other for a second, before the dark-haired boy broke the silence with a hurried, mumbled apology and stood up to leave.

“Wait.” Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his arm. Why was it that every time they met, this guy was always running away? “You don’t have to–” The words died in his throat.

The boy was staring at him with a trace of fear in his eyes, and Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his thin arm tremble slightly under his grip. He realized suddenly and let go.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know what else to say. The boy had stepped backwards, his unoccupied hand holding his arm at the place where Yoo Joonghyuk had just held.

“...It’s fine.”

It was the first time that Yoo Joonghyuk heard his voice clearly. It was quiet, but his voice sounded nice.

“You can stay here. I was just passing by.”

The boy hesitated, and then nodded. He sat down again on the steps, looking up at Yoo Joonghyuk with uncertainty in his gaze. Yoo Joonghyuk nodded back and continued on to the rooftop.

Lunch was otherwise uneventful and quiet.

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.

.

“Oi, trust fund boy. You never talk.”

A hand slammed onto his desk, and Yoo Joonghyuk looked up from his book to see the sneering face of Song Minwoo. His expression darkened. This guy was quite the annoyance, trying to gain favor with Yoo Joonghyuk by sweet-talking him from day one.

Song Minwoo was the son of a decently successful businessman, if he remembered correctly. His backing and his high ego led to him being somewhat of a bully in the school, but he never dared to cause any trouble with Yoo Joonghyuk, at least up until now.

Yoo Joonghyuk just looked at him coldly, and turned his attention back to his work. Song Minwoo laughed angrily. “Do you think you’re that much better than me? Are you mute or deaf or something?”

When Yoo Joonghyuk just continued to ignore him, Song Minwoo seethed and yanked the textbook away. “Hey, answer me. Just because you have a rich daddy doesn’t mean you can treat us like shit.” The rest of Song Minwoo’s groupies were starting to gather around his desk. Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw tightened, and his piercing eyes locked onto Song Minwoo’s mocking ones. The bully stared back, jeering.

“Ah, sorry. Forgot – you don’t have a daddy. He died and-”

Yoo Joonghyuk punched him square in the face. The sudden blow sent him staggering backwards and crashing into the desk behind him. Nearly falling, Song Minwoo clutched his face and held onto the desk behind him for support. Yoo Joonghyuk was still standing there, his eyes filled with quiet fury. “Watch your mouth.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, voice dangerous.

“You…you dare…” Song Minwoo said in near disbelief, his features contorting with anger. He lunged at Yoo Joonghyuk across the desk and grabbed his collar. Before he could even pull a punch in retaliation, a voice cut through the room and froze the two boys in place.

“Song Minwoo! What are you doing?” The teacher had come back into the room. Song Minwoo’s hands balled into fists, and he dropped his raised fist. “Nothing, seonsaeng-nim.”

“Then get back to your desk. All of you.” The teacher’s word was law, and not even Song Minwoo dared to cross him. Shooting a look of pure hatred at Yoo Joonghyuk, Song Minwoo waved for his friends to head back to their seats, but not before leaving Yoo Joonghyuk with one last parting sentence.

“You’ll regret this.” He hissed, shoving Yoo Joonghyuk roughly as he let go of his collar.

Yoo Joonghyuk just stared back impassively. He wasn’t worried, but his impulsive move might have just made things annoying for him in the future.

And sure enough.

From that day on, Song Minwoo’s hostility took a more hidden approach. He no longer confronted Yoo Joonghyuk outright, but resorted to underhanded tactics such as vandalizing Yoo Joonghyuk’s belongings and sabotaging him in school. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but Yoo Joonghyuk was close to having enough and just beating Song Minwoo within an inch of his life.

The bell rang, and students began to file back into the classroom, chattering to their friends as they found their seats. Yoo Joonghyuk looked down at his phone absently, expecting his seatmate to be once again absent, but someone pulled out the chair and quietly sat down beside him. He turned to see who it was. His eyes widened.

It was the boy from before. The one that he had bumped into twice in the previous days. The boy glanced over at him, feeling his gaze, and they made eye contact for a brief second. Yoo Joonghyuk could barely see his eyes from behind his glasses, but there was something about them that made him unable to look away. It was the boy that broke the moment, looking away and busying himself with his books.

“Class. Settle down.” The teacher called out sternly, and the buzz in the classroom slowly died down. “Take out your textbooks and open to page 95. Today we’ll be reading the text out loud.” A quiet groan went through the class. The history teacher loved to call for those in his classes to read out loud, but every student dreaded it. “Make sure to pronounce the words clearly and read loudly so everyone can hear you.”

The teacher’s gaze swept over the class, and locked onto Yoo Joonghyuk. “Yoo Joonghyuk. Why don’t you start us off?”

Shit. He hadn’t even gotten his textbook out yet. Yoo Joonghyuk reached into his desk for his book, but his fingers touched nothing. Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened. Song Minwoo, that bastard. He must have taken his books.

The class and the teacher were still waiting for him to respond. Out of options, Yoo Joonghyuk had no choice but to stand up and face the teacher’s gaze. “Sir, I seemed to have misplaced my textbook.”

The older man frowned, and the whole class seemed to hold their breath. This teacher was known to be extremely strict and old-fashioned about rules. The golden boy was in for a scolding. “Yoo Joonghyuk, I expected better from you. You need to come prepared to class.” Yoo Joonghyuk could see Song Minwoo’s gleeful face out of the corner of his eye. He gritted his teeth.

“This is not a matter of forgetfulness, but irresponsibility. If you come to class without your materials, there will be consequences. Go stand-”

Someone suddenly interrupted the teacher. The boy next to Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly stood up.

“Seonsaeng-nim. I’m sorry, I was the one who borrowed Yoo Joonghyuk’s book and didn’t return it.”

The entire class was silent, looking back and forth between the boy, Yoo Joonghyuk, and the teacher. The teacher looked surprised, raising his eyebrows, and spoke after a moment of silence. “...Kim Dokja. Is that so?”

“Yes. I had misplaced mine and borrowed Yoo Joonghyuk’s textbook. I wasn’t able to return it on time.”

“I see.” The teacher remarked. His expression was serious, but Kim Dokja met his gaze unwaveringly. “Kim Dokja. It’s good that you’ve started to pay attention to your studies, but do not drag down the good students around you. Understood?”

“Yes, seonsaeng-nim. I apologize.”

“I’ll let you both off for today. Do not let this happen again.” The teacher turned his gaze on another student. “Min Hara. How about you start then?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze was firmly on the boy as they both sat down. The boy, who he now knew was named Kim Dokja, breathed a sigh of relief. Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the open textbook in front of him, and then looked back at Kim Dokja, who met his gaze uncertainly.

“Why did you help me?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked quietly. His stare seemed to make Kim Dokja a little uncomfortable, and the boy touched his neck awkwardly and looked away.

“Ah, well…I saw Song Minwoo take your stuff, but I couldn’t say or do anything about it. So, I guess I kinda feel responsible?”

The silence between them stretched on for so long that Kim Dokja shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Thank you.”

Kim Dokja looked a little surprised, but then his lips curved into a small smile. The change in his expression transformed his entire impression – from a quiet, unremarkable student hidden behind his overly long bangs and thick-rimmed glasses, to a young, bright boy that was full of life. 

“You’re welcome.”

The two turned back to their own desks and didn’t speak after that, but Kim Dokja slid his textbook over a little so that Yoo Joonghyuk could follow along with the text.

After class, Song Minwoo sauntered over to Yoo Joonghyuk’s desk. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoo Joonghyuk noticed Kim Dokja cower backwards in his chair. Song Minwoo grinned at Yoo Joonghyuk angrily. “Slipped out of that one, yeah? You’re quite lucky you had Dokja here to take the fall for you. Right, Kim Dokja?”

Kim Dokja didn’t say anything, but Yoo Joonghyuk could sense him tense up visibly. Song Minwoo’s smile vanished when he got no reply. “The fuck is wrong with you two? I’m speaking to you.” His hand reached out to grab the front of Kim Dokja’s shirt, but Yoo Joonghyuk was faster.

His hand clamped down on Song Minwoo’s wrist forcefully. Song Minwoo tried to shake him off, but Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip was unyielding. He threw the bully’s hand away. “Leave.”

The look on his face must have been so terrifying that even Song Minwoo faltered. Cursing under his breath, Song Minwoo shoved his fists in his pockets and turned away. Before he left, his eyes narrowed with a cold threat and he fixed his gaze on Kim Dokja. With that, he turned and headed for the door, kicking over a chair in his path and sending it clattering to the floor. Yoo Joonghyuk watched him go, and then instinctively shifted his eyes to Kim Dokja.

The boy’s gaze was turned downwards, staring wordlessly at his lap. The minute that the door slammed shut, Kim Dokja’s shoulders slumped and he breathed out slowly. It was almost unnoticeable, but Yoo Joonghyuk noticed the slight tremble in his hands and the nervous way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

“Does he often bother you?”

Kim Dokja was silent, and then shook his head. Another silence fell between them, but then Yoo Joonghyuk heard Kim Dokja’s quiet voice again.

“Thank you.”

Starting from then, the two began a sort of odd relationship. Not quite friends, but a bit more than acquaintances. Kim Dokja started to show up a bit more for his classes. They rarely spoke to each other, but the silence was comfortable. Yoo Joonghyuk had wanted to speak up and maybe mention their previous meetings, but he didn’t quite know how to bring it up.

In fact, from his observation, the boy was quiet, rarely spoke, and only ever liked to read. Sometimes, even in the middle of class, Yoo Joonghyuk could catch his deskmate holding his phone underneath his desk, reading another web novel of some kind.

He wanted to know more about him, but Kim Dokja seemed to run away at any sign of attention. The boy’s head was always lowered, his long bangs covering his eyes and his glasses hiding his full expression from view.

“Why are you associating yourself with that guy?”

One day, another student whispered to Yoo Joonghyuk. It was breaktime, and Kim Dokja had disappeared off to somewhere else again. Yoo Joonghyuk looked up warily. “What do you mean?”

“Well…everyone knows. You know. Kim Dokja.”

“Spit it out. What about him?”

“He’s the murderer’s son. Yoo Joonghyuk, I’m just trying to help you. It’s not good to be too close with him, you’ll ruin your own reputation.”

Yoo Joonghyuk gave the student a withering look. “I can decide for myself. Leave me alone.”

The boy walked away, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Yoo Joonghyuk turned his attention back to his phone, but his mind wandered. Is that the reason why Kim Dokja was so withdrawn and quiet?

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.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked over at the desk beside him. Empty. Kim Dokja was skipping class again. He knew it probably wasn’t much, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way that the other students treated Kim Dokja. And Song Minwoo… he had stopped bothering Yoo Joonghyuk from that point. Although that was a good thing, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He walked through the hallway, his water bottle hanging from his fingertips. Class was starting soon, but he wanted to refill his bottle before that. A sudden commotion up ahead caught his attention – a couple of loud boys had come out of the door of a storage closet, Song Minwoo being one of them, his face twisted in wicked enjoyment. Yoo Joonghyuk tensed, his gaze sharp. Song Minwoo always meant trouble.

However, the group didn’t even notice him, simply slamming the door behind them and leaving in the opposite direction while laughing and jeering. Turning his attention away from them disgustedly, Yoo Joonghyuk pulled open the storage closet.

The closet was cramped and dimly lit, lined with miscellaneous items like old cardboard boxes and cleaning equipment. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes took a second to adjust, and in that split second, he heard the struggling breathing of another person.

He looked down and met the guarded and fearful eyes of Kim Dokja. 

The boy was curled in on himself in the corner of the closet, chest rising and falling with difficulty. His face stark white with pain, Yoo Joonghyuk could clearly see the ugly bruise on his cheek and his bleeding lip. His white school uniform was dirty with dust, and wrinkled and crumpled in the evidence of abuse. The parts of his arms that were exposed from his sleeves were littered with bruises and fingerprints. Sitting against the wall, battered and bruised, he was tense and hunched as he looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk with that pale face and wide eyes. For a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk just stood there, not knowing what to say or do. Then, fury gripped him.

He knelt down beside Kim Dokja, brow twisted in anger. “Did Song Minwoo do this?” Kim Dokja looked away and didn’t say anything, but it was answer enough for Yoo Joonghyuk. His hands curled into fists at his side, knuckles turning white with the pressure. Song Minwoo knew that he couldn’t take it out on Yoo Joonghyuk, so the bully took his anger out on Kim Dokja.

“Can you walk?” Yoo Joonghyuk forced his anger down and spoke as calmly as he could to Kim Dokja. The boy hesitated, and then nodded silently. Upon receiving his reply, Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed Kim Dokja’s hand and tried to pull him up. When the boy let out a hiss of pain, Yoo Joonghyuk realized his mistake and stopped immediately. 

Kim Dokja stumbled and bent over himself, trembling fingers clutching against his sides. Yoo Joonghyuk instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist to stabilize him, but let go when Kim Dokja gasped at the contact. “I can walk by myself.” The boy’s voice was hoarse and scratchy, as if his vocal chords were bruised. He held onto Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm, but looked up at him grimly. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice rose in anger. How could he be fine? Look at him – he looked like he could barely stand. “You’re going to the nurse’s office.” Kim Dokja’s eyes widened and he instantly tried to dig in his heels, but Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his hand and pulled him forwards.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t have to go to the nurse, really.” Kim Dokja hoarsely protested, fingers trying to pry Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand off of his. Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him, pushing open the door to the cramped room and dragging Kim Dokja with him.

Kim Dokja couldn’t help being pulled along behind Yoo Joonghyuk, and the taller boy noticed him trying to duck down and hide his face from the few students in the hallway. Yoo Joonghyuk swiftly shrugged off his uniform jacket and, in one smooth motion, draped it over Kim Dokja’s head. 

The action was surprisingly gentle, with Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers barely grazing his skin. With the jacket now concealing his face from curious onlookers, Yoo Joonghyuk held onto his hand tighter and guided him firmly yet carefully to the nurse’s office.

He could feel the cool hand in his, smaller and a stark contrast to his own warm and steady hand. After a second, Kim Dokja squeezed his hand.

.

.

.

Kim Dokja stared at the broad back before him in a daze, eyes wide as they hurried through the hallway. His body hurt like hell, but the calloused hand holding his was warm and strong, and he could still feel Yoo Joonghyuk’s temperature from the jacket over his head. Kim Dokja suddenly felt a flicker of hope. 

He steeled himself, willed for his fingers to stop shaking, and squeezed back.

Chapter Text

The medical room was small but clean, smelling of antiseptic and detergent. The white walls were covered with educational posters about hygiene and first aid. Yoo Joonghyuk looked around, saw the neatly made bed against one wall, and dragged Kim Dokja over to it. He sat Kim Dokja down, crossed the room, and began rummaging through the desk and drawers. “Wait,” Kim Dokja said weakly. “The nurse isn’t here. I don’t think we should…”

Yoo Joonghyuk tossed him a dirty look. “And what? Just sit and wait here until she gets back?” He pulled open another drawer and found what he was looking for – a sleek, white kit that had the blocky red words ‘First Aid’ printed across it. He took it out and headed back to Kim Dokja’s side, drawing the curtain around the bed before pulling a chair over and sitting down in front of Kim Dokja. Setting the kit on his lap, he clicked it open and scanned the supplies, moving with purpose.

Kim Dokja sat on the bed, his body stiff with pain and apprehension, but there was a flicker of trust in his eyes as he watched Yoo Joonghyuk’s movements. Yoo Joonghyuk took a pack of antiseptic wipes, a cold pack, and a cloth out of the kit and set it aside on the bed. He snapped the cold pack and shook it, feeling its temperature dropping in his hands, wrapped it in the cloth, and handed it to Kim Dokja. “Here.”

Kim Dokja obediently held it, his hand outstretched. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. “Idiot. Put it to where it hurts.” Kim Dokja let out a quiet “oh” and after a second of deciding between his ribs and neck, put the cold pack to his throat.

Yoo Joonghyuk wrinkled his brow. “What did they do to you?”

Kim Dokja simply said, voice hoarse, “punched me in the throat.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression grew icy again, and Kim Dokja smiled weakly. “I know. Song Minwoo’s quite the petty bastard.”

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted in agreement and tore open a pack of antiseptic wipes. “Don’t move.” 

Kim Dokja didn’t listen. “I can do it myself.” He whispered, and opened his hand for the wipes.

Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him completely, and Kim Dokja had no choice but to comply. With a gentle hand, he wiped the dust and dried blood from Kim Dokja’s bruised face. Kim Dokja didn’t let him wipe at his split lip, instead turning his head away and licking the blood away by himself. Upon meeting Yoo Joonghyuk’s stare, Kim Dokja made a face at him. “The wipes are gonna taste bad.”

“...You're weird,” Yoo Joonghyuk said after a long pause. Kim Dokja didn’t take offense to the statement, but instead smiled fleetingly. Yoo Joonghyuk gave him an odd look and tossed the dirtied and bloody wipe into the nearby trash. Tearing open another, he ordered, “Take off your glasses.” 

Kim Dokja hesitated but complied. He removed his glasses, folding them carefully, and held them in one hand. Yoo Joonghyuk leaned in, brushing Kim Dokja’s bangs away from his face to clean the cut on his cheekbone.

As Kim Dokja’s full face was revealed, Yoo Joonghyuk found himself staring. Without the barrier of his messy hair and thick glasses, Kim Dokja’s features were strikingly delicate. The long, dark lashes of his closed eyes swept downward, and his lips were a shade of muted pink. His expression was unguarded, vulnerable. For a minute, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help but stare, taken aback by the contrast to Kim Dokja’s usual scruffy appearance.

The long silence made Kim Dokja shift uncomfortably, and he opened his eyes to look at Yoo Joonghyuk in confusion. His eyes were a deep, ocean black that contrasted against the paleness of his skin. Light caught in his eyes, creating subtle reflections that looked like fleeting stars. In that moment, as their gazes met, Yoo Joonghyuk realized just how much he had underestimated Kim Dokja’s appearance.

“What?” His voice was soft, still coarse from injury.

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head wordlessly and pressed the wipe to the cut on Kim Dokja’s cheekbone, earning himself a yelp of pain. “H-Hey, at least warn me!” Kim Dokja protested, pushing away Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand while wincing. Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him and continued on, his ears and neck feeling a little warm. “You need to cut your hair. Your bangs are too long.” He said, hoping his voice didn’t betray him too much.

Kim Dokja grumbled under his breath as Yoo Joonghyuk pressed a bandage to his cheek, and then a small one to the cut at the corner of his mouth. Kim Dokja’s eyes followed his movements, looking up at him innocently.

Yoo Joonghyuk opened his hand expectantly, and Kim Dokja gave him the cold pack. “Look up.” Kim Dokja did as he was told, exposing the line of his neck. The deep purple bruises were already forming, with faint hints of yellow at the edges. Kim Dokja winced when he swallowed, evidently feeling a sharp, searing pain every time he did so. Yoo Joonghyuk rummaged in the kit again and produced a small tin of bruise ointment. He applied it carefully to the bruise, and then wrapped bandages gently around the area so that the ointment wouldn’t be smeared off by his clothing or collar.

He turned his attention to Kim Dokja’s sides. He reached out to feel his ribs, but Kim Dokja instantly smacked his hand away in alarm. “Hey, what are you doing?!”

“Checking if your ribs are broken.”

“I can do that by myself. They’re not.”

Yoo Joonghyuk held his gaze gruffly, and it was Kim Dokja’s turn to sigh. “Look, this isn’t my first time around, okay? I’d know if they were broken.” He took the cold pack from Yoo Joonghyuk and held it to his ribs. “Can I have another cold pack?”

Yoo Joonghyuk activated another one and handed it to Kim Dokja, wrapped in cloth. Kim Dokja pressed it to his other side, and laid down flat on the bed with a sigh.

“Feeling alright?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, standing above him. Kim Dokja opened his eyes again and nodded, smiling. 

“Yeah. Thank you, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

As if remembering something, the smile on Kim Dokja’s face started to slip.

“Why did you help me?”

“Did you expect me to just leave you there?”

“Well…”

“Don’t think too much about it. Rest.” Yoo Joonghyuk drew the sheets of the bed over Kim Dokja, and removed all the remaining supplies and Kim Dokja’s glasses, setting them on the nearby table.

“Wait!” Kim Dokja sat upright, and then gasped and fell back onto the pillow, face contorted in pain. Yoo Joonghyuk furiously pressed the sheets right up to his chin. 

“What the hell are you-”

“You’re missing class, Yoo Joonghyuk.” Kim Dokja said urgently, as if he hadn’t just been beaten and hurt badly. “You need to go- ack!”

Yoo Joonghyuk flicked his forehead, hard. Kim Dokja blinked at him, mouth open. Completely out of patience, Yoo Joonghyuk growled, “It’s not important. Idiot. Rest!”

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.

When the nurse returned a while later, she pulled back the curtains to find a boy sleeping peacefully on the bed, and another boy bent over in his chair, sleeping at the other boy’s side. 

Kim Dokja lay there, battered body finally succumbing to exhaustion. The soft rise and fall of his chest was accompanied by steady and relaxed breathing. His pale face, though marked with bruises and bandages, looked peaceful.

Beside the bed, Yoo Joonghyuk slumped across the side of the bed, his brows furrowed even in sleep. His head rested on his folded arms. He used the bed’s side as a makeshift pillow, remaining close to Kim Dokja despite the uncomfortable position.

The open medical kit lay on the table beside them.

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.

[Present Day]

There was a knock at Lee Seolhwa’s office door. She looked up from her laptop and files, glasses perched on her nose, and called out to the person outside. “Come in.”

A tall, handsome man pushed open the door and walked in. Lee Seolhwa’s eyes widened. “What a surprise. Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi.” The man nodded to her in greeting, and shut the door behind him. Lee Seolhwa motioned to the chair before her desk and Yoo Joonghyuk sat down with a heavy sigh.

“Lee Seolhwa. I need a favour from you.”

The woman looked at him quietly and then smiled a bitter smile. “Yoo Joonghyuk. Haven’t you already asked me for one just weeks prior?”

A few weeks ago, this same man had appeared in her hospital, drenched from the rain, eyes tumultuous and complicated. Lee Seolhwa hadn’t seen him in person since their high school days, over six years ago, only seeing glimpses of her old friend in articles and news reports. And now, after years of silence, he had shown up at her door with a request.

“Seolhwa. I need a favour.”

He needed to treat someone here in secret. No one can know that they are here, or even alive. An incredibly strange, as well as risky request, but Lee Seolhwa agreed for the sake of their past as old classmates and friends. She could help him, this one time. By pulling some strings, she was able to vacate the uppermost VIP floors with the help of Yoo Joonghyuk’s money in record time. And finally, she assigned herself as the lead treatment doctor for this unknown patient.

But when Lee Seolhwa walked through the door to the hospital room, she couldn’t help but stagger backwards. Lying there on the hospital bed, bloodied and unconscious, was Kim Dokja. The infamous mafia boss of the organization the Underworld …and her high school classmate. What the hell was he doing here?

She whirled around with wide eyes. Yoo Joonghyuk was standing behind her, staring at the unconscious man with a complicated expression. “Make sure he doesn’t die,” was all he said.

Ever since their high school years, Lee Seolhwa had been unable to unravel what had gone on between them. All she knew was that one day, Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk, who used to be closer than anything, became mortal enemies. She had attended the…funeral, and at the end of the night, she had found Yoo Joonghyuk unconscious in front of the fresh grave, blood seeping through a large wound on his chest.

And from that day on, Yoo Joonghyuk had changed. A cold, emotionless shell of the person he once was, he was now a powerful man who used his money and connections to his advantage with the sole purpose of hunting down Kim Dokja. And Kim Dokja…without warning and without reason, he suddenly became the most feared man in the country – the mafia boss of the infamous crime syndicate, the Underworld. A fact that some may have known secretly, but no one ever dared to point out. To the unknowing public, he was the rich, elusive entrepreneur that had built his empire from the ground up.

And from there, their friend group had fractured. Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah disappeared with Kim Dokja, while Lee Hyungsung and Lee Seolhwa had followed Yoo Joonghyuk. Soon after graduation, Lee Seolhwa found that her path diverted from Yoo Joonghyuk’s. That was the last she’d ever heard from him in years. And now, Yoo Joonghyuk shows up before her with an unconscious and severely injured Kim Dokja.

She breathed in a shuddering breath and forced herself to calm down. No matter what happened, Kim Dokja was her patient, and she had an obligation to his well being.

Lee Seolhwa then gathered a few nurses and made them swear to secrecy, but word must have gotten out. Under the cover of night, an assassin had broken into the hospital and attacked Kim Dokja.

After the incident, Yoo Joonghyuk had coldly informed her that he had gotten rid of the assassin, and that those who had let out the secret had to be silenced. Furious, Lee Seolhwa argued against this, but Yoo Joonghyuk held firm. In the end, Lee Seolhwa was only able to get the few nurses reassigned to a different hospital in Korea, somewhere that Yoo Joonghyuk’s wrath couldn’t reach them. 

Yoo Joonghyuk took care of assigning the nurses around Kim Dokja from there. Lee Seolhwa couldn’t help but notice the way the nurses tread carefully around the patient – whether from Yoo Joonghyuk’s threats or Kim Dokja’s own reputation, she did not know.

On the other hand, she got to speak to Kim Dokja. He was nothing like she expected – quiet, sweet, and approachable. Almost exactly like the boy she once knew in high school. But part of this may be attributed to his memory loss, she thought. After waking up and being diagnosed with retrograde amnesia, he had admitted to her during an examination that he had started to remember extremely vague details and find certain things or people familiar, but still, he remembered nothing about his adulthood.

Retrograde amnesia. Scientifically defined, it’s the loss of the ability to recall memories and past events that occurred prior to head trauma. The patient may have complete or partial memory loss, and the amnesia affects the memories of events in the more recent past compared to those in the distant past. As for treatment…it can be permanent, but most of the time, the patient will start to regain their memories with time.

The thought made her anxious. With the dangerous past between Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk, there was a live fuse between them, waiting to ignite. And with the way that Yoo Joonghyuk was treating him…she didn’t even know how Kim Dokja would react upon remembering everything.

Yoo Joonghyuk had lied. He had told Kim Dokja that they were married, and being lost and amnesiac, Kim Dokja had believed him. Lee Seolhwa watched as Yoo Joonghyuk’s attitude changed entirely, from a desperate, murderous fury, to a quiet, obsessive hope. It was the first time she had caught a glimpse of his old self like this…that high school boy who had eyes only for Kim Dokja.

Lee Seolhwa watched them leave the hospital and prayed silently. If fate would allow, things could stay peacefully between them and nothing would come to pass. And so she hoped, believing it to be true, until Yoo Joonghyuk showed up at her office again.

“He’s remembering.”

Of course he was. The doctor closed her eyes and sighed deeply, rubbing her fingers into her knit brow. “That’s a sign that he’s healing well, Yoo Joonghyuk. Isn’t that what you want?”

Yoo Joonghyuk stood there for a long second, hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. Lee Seolhwa looked back at him in resignation. “You made this mess for yourself. You can’t expect anything to be done now.”

“I need a drug that will prevent his memories from returning.”

Once the words registered, Lee Seolhwa slammed a hand down on her desk and stood up furiously. “Yoo Joonghyuk!” She shouted, eyes flashing in anger. The man stared at her coldly, his handsome features looking almost unrecognizable in the shadows. “That is medical malpractice at the most extreme! How can you even bring yourself to ask that of me? How could you do that to him?”

“Are you refusing?”

“Yes! A drug like that, if used incorrectly or at the wrong dose, may cause irreparable damage! That is far too dangerous to meddle with, Yoo Joonghyuk, I beg you, get that thought out of your head.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stood up too, his eyes icy. His deep voice was quiet and dangerous as he spoke. “If I can’t get it from you, I’ll find it elsewhere.”

This man is actually crazy. Lee Seolhwa’s mouth dropped open. Yoo Joonghyuk turned on his heel and headed for the door, but before he could twist it open and leave, Lee Seolhwa spoke. 

“Wait...!” The doctor ran a hand through her white hair in exasperation. There was no stopping this man. All she could do was take matters into her own hand, knowing that whatever drug produced from her hand would be ten times more trustworthy than anywhere else Yoo Joonghyuk could acquire it from. It was all she could do to protect Kim Dokja, currently defenseless, in the best way she could.

“I’ll do it. But in exchange,” She said angrily, pointing a threatening finger up at Yoo Joonghyuk’s impassive face. “You will bring him in for a regular check up every single week. Got it?”

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded once, a faint hint of satisfaction in his face. Lee Seolhwa sat down in her chair again, head in her hands and white hair falling forwards to hide her face. Her voice was muffled as she wondered, partly to herself, “Why am I even helping you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk smiled mirthlessly. “For old time’s sake.”

Chapter Text

[Twelve years ago]

After that day in the medical room, the relationship between them had completely changed. Kim Dokja smiled more around him, now comfortable enough with him to joke and poke fun. Yoo Joonghyuk would begrudgingly reply, but anyone with a careful eye could tell that he enjoyed the company. He had many other friend prospects, as most of the students in the grade wanted to approach him in one way or another for his looks, grades, or background, but he found that he didn’t really want any of them except for Kim Dokja.

He looked sideways at his deskmate. Kim Dokja had his chin propped up on one hand and was scribbling in his notebook. The sunlight streamed through the window, and the open breeze rustled his hair slightly.

Kim Dokja was a different existence. On the surface, there was nothing special about him, but there was something about this boy that made Yoo Joonghyuk want to get closer. Was it pity? Maybe a sense of protectiveness, since they were deskmates, and also because Kim Dokja had helped him out once before? 

Now that he thought about it, something was odd about this boy. He was always quiet, hidden, and fading into the crowd. Kim Dokja liked to be unnoticed, but for Yoo Joonghyuk, he stood up and caught the attention of the whole class, something he had never done before or after the fact. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t understand why he would go against himself to help out a student he had never even spoken to before.

“Kim Dokja.”

The boy peered up at him over his glasses, not even moving from his position. “Hm?”

Yoo Joonghyuk stood up. “Come. Aren’t you going to eat lunch?”

Kim Dokja blinked his dark eyes at Yoo Joonghyuk, seemed to consider it, but then shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry. You should go eat, though.”

Yoo Joonghyuk wrinkled his brow. Again? Did this boy live off of nothing but air? Aside from the one time that Yoo Joonghyuk had bumped into him in that stairwell with that sad excuse of a triangle kimbap, he hadn’t seen him eat at all. Yoo Joonghyuk crossed his arms and glared down at Kim Dokja, who sheepishly decided to avoid eye contact.

“We’re going to the cafeteria.”

“Really, Yoo Joonghyuk. I’m not hungry at all.”

The boy said, offering him a small crooked smile, and then turned back to his papers. Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his eye twitch. Aren’t normal twelve-year-olds usually supposed to be bottomless pits when it comes to food? This frail, skinny kid in front of him looked like he would get blown away by a particularly strong gust of wind.

That’s it , Yoo Joonghyuk decided, and yanked Kim Dokja up by the back of his collar. Caught completely off guard, Kim Dokja let out a strangled noise of surprise, the pen in his hand drawing a crooked line across the page. He struggled and scowled at Yoo Joonghyuk, furious at being dragged upwards so suddenly. “You– You damned sunfish! What are you doing?!”

“We’re going to go have lunch,” Yoo Joonghyuk announced, and dragged Kim Dokja from his desk and towards the door. The boy was barely able to nab his phone before getting forcibly taken away.

“Hey, Yoo Joonghyuk!! Who taught you these horrible manners? I can walk, I can walk by myself!! Why are you doing this?!”

Yoo Joonghyuk had wanted to take Kim Dokja to the cafeteria, but the latter had put his foot down and threatened to run away if he was brought there. Coming to a careful compromise, the two sat down in the same secluded stairwell that they had last stumbled into each other before.

Kim Dokja sat down heavily on the steps and glared up at Yoo Joonghyuk. “Seriously. If you didn’t want to be alone, you could’ve just said that. I would’ve come if you said you wanted company.” He thought for a second, and then tilted his head to one side curiously. “Although, why me? I’m sure you have plenty of other better options.”

Yoo Joonghyuk scowled. “Idiot,” he uttered. “It’s lunch time. You need to eat lunch.”

Kim Dokja smiled patiently. “Well, I don’t have a lunch with me right now. You can just admit that you want company, I won’t make fun of y– ack!”

A brown paper bag smacked him in the face and landed in his lap. Kim Dokja looked down at the lunch bag in his lap and then looked back up at Yoo Joonghyuk. “Uh?”

“That’s your lunch.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, and sat down beside Kim Dokja, pulling a second paper bag out of his backpack. He didn’t even want to argue with this guy. “Eat it.”

Kim Dokja looked at him with an odd expression and didn’t move. After a long minute of silence, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t take it anymore and turned around angrily to question Kim Dokja, “What are you–”

“I don’t get it.”

His voice was quiet, but it stopped the words dead in Yoo Joonghyuk’s throat. Kim Dokja was looking at Yoo Joonghyuk with a wrinkled brow, as if he was a puzzle that he couldn’t piece together no matter what. The boy stared down at the bag in his hand, his thumb pressing down against the paper with a crinkling sound.

“Why are you doing all this?” Kim Dokja’s eyes were dark and bottomless. He seemed genuinely unable to understand why anyone would offer him even a shred of kindness. “You have so many other options,” he repeated, “and I just don’t get why you would do all this for me. You don’t even know me.”

Sitting on the steps there, it felt as if an invisible line had been drawn between the two boys. They were inches apart, but Kim Dokja felt miles away. “Answer me, Yoo Joonghyuk. You know exactly what they all say about me. There’s no way you don’t.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yoo Joonghyuk heard himself speak. “I don’t care what other people say.”

“But why? Before in the medical room, and now with the lunch. Yoo Joonghyuk, do you pity me?” Kim Dokja was smiling now, but it looked hollow on his pale face. “If it’s that, I don’t need it. You can have this back.”

Kim Dokja started to push the paper bag back into his hands, but Yoo Joonghyuk stopped him immediately and slammed his palm onto the stairwell wall behind Kim Dokja. The boy jumped and leaned back, looking at him carefully. Eyes blazing, Yoo Joonghyuk glared down at Kim Dokja, who was trapped between him and the wall.

“Kim Dokja…” Yoo Joonghyuk said through gritted teeth. “It’s not that. I just want to…” Kim Dokja blinked at him. Damn it, what was he supposed to say! He didn’t even know the answer to the question himself. 

“...be friends with you.”

The air was silent and empty for a second, and then Kim Dokja gave a laugh of disbelief. Soon, the boy was beside himself with laughter. A real, genuine laugh that seemed to brighten the dim stairwell and gently brush away the heavy atmosphere. Kim Dokja bent over himself, shoulders shaking with laughter. Yoo Joonghyuk stared down at him. What was so funny? Is this guy going crazy?

“Ahaha, ha…haha… Oh, man, Yoo Joonghyuk!” Kim Dokja said after a while, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “Ha…haha… sorry, sorry. I just never expect such a line to come out of the school prince’s mouth, you know?”

Kim Dokja smiled at him with bright eyes. Yoo Joonghyuk still didn’t understand what was so funny about what he’d said, but he’d take this reaction over anything else. He let his arm drop and scooted backward on the step a bit, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “Whatever. Just take the lunch.” 

Kim Dokja grinned. “Ah, sorry. I haven’t formally accepted yet.” Kim Dokja held out a hand. “I would love to. Let’s be friends, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Yoo Joonghyuk took Kim Dokja’s hand and shook it seriously. He had no idea how this situation came out to be like this, but either way, it was good.

“Pffft…ahahah!” Kim Dokja had started laughing again, covering his mouth with his hand holding the paper bag. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. What set him off again?

In the end, Kim Dokja accepted the lunch, and was eating it in amazement while stealing glances at Yoo Joonghyuk. “Wow, Yoo Joonghyuk. This is so good. You made it yourself?”

“Mhm.” That morning, he had thought about Kim Dokja and his sad kimbap, heaved a sigh, and started preparing another sandwich and bag for his deskmate. It made him preen a little inside to hear that someone liked his food, though. Namgung Minyoung never praised him because she didn’t want him to ‘let the praise go to his head’.

He watched Kim Dokja eat as he took bites out of his own sandwich. Kim Dokja ate politely, taking small bites and chewing appreciatively, but Yoo Joonghyuk still thought that he looked like a hamster when he held the sandwich with two hands. He rested his chin on his knuckles and looked sideways at Kim Dokja.

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.” Kim Dokja considered it and wrinkled his nose. “Actually, yeah. Tomatoes.”

Yoo Joonghyuk fixed him with a deadpan look. “You’re not actually allergic to that, are you?”

“Uhh…”

Yoo Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow. Kim Dokja sighed.”Fine, I’m not. But still, I don’t like them at all.”

“You shouldn’t be so picky. That’s how you’ll never grow taller.”

“Hey!” Kim Dokja bristled. “I’ll have you know that we’re basically the same height!”

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.

After that very formal declaration of friendship, the two did, in fact, become friends. Yoo Joonghyuk fell into the natural rhythm of dutifully preparing a lunch for Kim Dokja every morning, and Kim Dokja accepted it without complaint. The two would sit together during class, talk quietly to each other during breaks, and spend lunchtimes together either on the rooftop or in that stairwell. Sometimes, Yoo Joonghyuk told Kim Dokja about his favorite video games, and others, Kim Dokja told Yoo Joonghyuk about his favourite novels. The remaining time was spent in comfortable silence just sitting at the other’s side, reading a book or playing mobile games.

As the two began to spend more time together, Yoo Joonghyuk noticed the whispers and the glances. It was strange to the other students that the most popular and most handsome student suddenly grew close and befriended the ostracized, gloomy student who was surrounded by horrific rumors. And he knows that Kim Dokja had noticed it too.

“Don’t you think this friendship is feeling a little unfair for you? A bit unequal?” Kim Dokja asked Yoo Joonghyuk worriedly one day at lunch. “You…well, you could have so much better. And you keep bringing me lunches and food, but I don’t really have anything to offer you. You know, y– mhph!”

Yoo Joonghyuk manually shut Kim Dokja up by shoving a piece of tteokbokki in his mouth. He glared. “Don’t you dare. Just eat the damn food. I chose this. I chose you. ” He didn’t like it when Kim Dokja thought too much about things. He always felt like punching something when he saw Kim Dokja’s downcast gaze and withdrawn expression.

Kim Dokja chewed and grinned sheepishly as he pulled Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand away. “Okay.”

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[Present Day]

“Joonghyuk-ah.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked up from his phone. Kim Dokja was standing in front of him, smiling at him softly. “I’m ready,” he said, motioning to his clothes, which he had changed from homewear into a soft white cable knit sweater and comfortable pants. “Let’s go!”

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded and took Kim Dokja’s hand to lead him through the garage door to the car.. He really liked seeing Kim Dokja wearing clothes like these – it was such a contrast to how he had dressed before.

Salvation was always dressed impeccably, like most mafia bosses do. Tailored suits, waistcoats, expensive ties and watches. Always in dark colours in order to hide the presence of blood. Yoo Joonghyuk particularly hated seeing him wear that long, black trench coat. He could still remember standing in the middle of the expensive venue hall, staring at one point in the distance beyond the window as chaos erupted around him. As he stood there, he could see that familiar figure stand and leave the edge of the rooftop, the corner of his black coat disappearing from view.

The clothes that Yoo Joonghyuk chose for him now made him feel like a completely different person. His closet was in lighter colours now, filled with soft clothing like cardigans, T-shirts, and sweaters. This way, Kim Dokja looked harmless, domestic… docile. Yes, that’s how things should be.

“Hey, don’t you think these checkups are getting a bit much?” Kim Dokja’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. He tilted his head at Yoo Joonghyuk, frowning as he considered it further. “I know I haven’t gotten the stitches out yet, but I’m basically fine for everything else. Is it really necessary to have, like, a full checkup every single week?”

“I don’t think so. It’s good to be careful, Kim Dokja.”

“Hey, don’t tell me… were you the one who requested for this…?”

“No.”

It was technically the truth, anyways.

The checkup went well. After Lee Seolhwa had explained the test results (all was well), she excused herself to meet with a nurse for one last test paper. As she got up, she gave Yoo Joonghyuk a meaningful look.

A few minutes after Lee Seolhwa had left, Yoo Joonghyuk stood up as well. “Wait here, Kim Dokja. I’ll quickly go use the washroom.”

After Kim Dokja had nodded and motioned for him to go, Yoo Joonghyuk strode out and turned a corner to find Lee Seolhwa waiting for him. “So?” Yoo Joonghyuk said, all trace of warmth gone from his voice. “Spit it out.”

The white-haired woman sighed. “Yoo Joonghyuk. It’s currently going well, but this will not last long. If he continues to use the drug, he will start to forget new memories as well. Like I said, this is not safe! Please, for the sake of his safety, stop this.”

When Yoo Joonghyuk did not respond, the doctor tried again. “If you just talked it out, I’m sure he will –”

“You know nothing, Lee Seolhwa.” Yoo Joonghyuk said coldly. “This is the only way. We will proceed with the medication, with or without your help.”

“...I can’t stop you, Yoo Joonghyuk. All I can ask is that you continue to bring him in every week.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t answer and turned on his heel to enter the office again. When he entered, Kim Dokja looked up in surprise from the examination result papers that he was looking at. “Ah, Joonghyuk. You surprised me…back already?”

“Yes. I also met Dr. Lee in the hall, and she said that we’re free to go.” Yoo Joonghyuk took Kim Dokja’s wrist and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

[Present Day]

Kim Dokja opened his eyes. The clock on the bedside table displayed the ungodly hour of 3:21 am. No matter how hard he tried, sleep would not come. He glanced over at Yoo Joonghyuk beside him, who was sleeping soundly with his arms wrapped around him, and smiled. He ran his fingers through his curly hair, careful not to wake his husband. No matter how stern and grumpy he may look in the day, Yoo Joonghyuk would always hold onto him tightly at night.

Quietly, sneakily, Kim Dokja slipped out of Yoo Joonghyuk’s hold to sit at the side of the bed, squinting through the darkness and feeling for his slippers with his feet. Maybe a drink of water from the kitchen?

He opened the door as quietly as he could and shut it behind him with a soft click. His soft, padded footsteps seemed to echo as he walked down the grand staircase and through the silent mansion. The darkness enveloped him comfortably. 

Upon reaching the kitchen, Kim Dokja flicked the switch for the dim light in the room. A warm glow settled over him, lighting up a small corner of the dark room, and he moved over to open the cabinet, reaching upwards to retrieve a glass. Kim Dokja watched the glass slowly fill up with cool water from the tap, and shut it off when it was half full. As he lifted the glass to his lips, a sudden movement in the reflection of the kitchen window caught his attention, and he felt a presence behind him.

Before he could turn around, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him back slightly. A familiar voice whispered in his ear.

“It’s just me,” Yoo Joonghyuk said quietly, voice husky from sleep. His breath was warm against Kim Dokja’s neck. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I came to get a drink.” Kim Dokja admitted, turning slightly to look at Yoo Joonghyuk. The taller man’s eyes were looking at him, but those usually sharp, piercing eyes were slightly lidded with sleepiness, and he looked a bit dazed. His wavy hair was a tousled mess, courtesy of Kim Dokja. He smiled. “Sorry. Did I wake you?” His husband shook his head lightly.

Yoo Joonghyuk stood shirtless in the dimly lit kitchen, his muscular frame pressing protectively against Kim Dokja’s back. Kim Dokja pushed back against him gently. “Silly. Aren’t you cold? Go put on a shirt.” Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head again and buried his face in the crook of Kim Dokja’s neck. Yoo Joonghyuk’s soft hair and breathing tickled Kim Dokja’s neck, and he squirmed at the sensation. “Joonghyuk-ah, that tickles.” He said gently, laughter creeping into his voice.

Yoo Joonghyuk raised his head but didn’t let go of Kim Dokja. He turned to stare at the glass of water in his hand. “If you can’t sleep, do you want some warm milk? I can make some for us.” Kim Dokja considered it and then nodded, setting down the glass on the countertop. “Sure. I can…”

He trailed off when Yoo Joonghyuk reached down beside him to grab a small saucepan from the cabinets, setting it down on the stovetop gently. “Joonghyuk? We can just heat it in the microwave.” 

“It tastes better this way. Go grab the milk from the fridge.”

Kim Dokja watched as Yoo Joonghyuk poured half a carton of milk into the saucepan and turned up the heat. He stirred periodically, with Kim Dokja looking on curiously from the side. The tall man bent over the stove, carefully adding a spoonful of honey and a dash of vanilla. Kim Dokja watched on, feeling something deeply domestic about this scene. His shirtless husband standing over the stove, handsome face illuminated by the dim lighting, carefully making him some warm milk in the dead of night.

Yoo Joonghyuk poured the drink into two mugs, and then dusted the top off with cinnamon. He handed one to Kim Dokja. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He sipped carefully, and his eyes brightened at the taste. The sweet aroma of honey and vanilla was absolutely delicious, mingling with the faint flavour of cinnamon. The warmth spread through him, soothing and comforting. Yoo Joonghyuk took a sip from his own mug, his eyes never leaving Kim Dokja’s face.

“It’s really good.” As Kim Dokja finished his drink, he absentmindedly licked his lips, unaware of the small bit of milk foam that still remained at the corner of his mouth. Yoo Joonghyuk watched him intently, setting his mug down on the counter. He stepped closer and placed his hands on Kim Dokja’s waist, and in one careful, smooth movement, lifted him and placed him on the marble kitchen island.

Kim Dokja grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms, surprised. The marble was cold against his bare legs and he shivered, having only worn a thin white t-shirt and black shorts to bed. The warm glow of the faint kitchen light cast gentle shadows on their faces as Kim Dokja’s gaze met Yoo Joonghyuk’s deep eyes. His husband let out a low laugh, and leaned in.

Yoo Joonghyuk licked away the milk foam at the corner of Kim Dokja’s mouth while watching his expression carefully. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened. “You…”

Whatever he was going to say was swallowed in Yoo Joonghyuk’s kiss. Kim Dokja’s lips were soft against his, slightly parted in surprise. Deepening the kiss, he could taste sweet honey and milk and cinnamon. Kim Dokja’s hands came up to grasp at his shoulders, his fingers warm from holding the mug.

When he pulled away, Kim Dokja stared at him with those inky, bright eyes, breathing quickened. Yoo Joonghyuk looked up at him, wishing he could etch this scene in front of him into his mind forever. His gaze fell onto the silver ring on Kim Dokja’s finger, and the smile on his face slowly faded. The only thing that he could say was…

“...Don’t leave, okay?” 

Kim Dokja paused, surprised, and then burst out laughing. “Is that all you have to say?” He said, eyes crinkling into crescents in a soft smile. “Aren’t you supposed to say like, I love you or something?”

When Yoo Joonghyuk just looked at him, Kim Dokja chuckled and leaned down to press another soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll say it then. Love you.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze lingered on his face, taking in every detail. The curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, the way his smile lit up the darkest corners of Yoo Joonghyuk’s heart. The love he felt for Kim Dokja was so much that it hurt.

“Love you.” Yoo Joonghyuk echoed, his chest aching.

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That night, Kim Dokja slept soundly. By the time he woke up, blinking at the rays of sunshine streaming through the small gap in the curtains, it was already noon. He sat up. The bed beside him was empty and cold. Yoo Joonghyuk must’ve gotten up a long time ago.

He pulled on a jacket and headed out to the dining room. From a mile away, he could smell the delicious scent of food. Kim Dokja’s curiosity led him to the dining room, where two pairs of chopsticks, bowls, and side dishes were already set up on the table.

Yoo Joonghyuk was standing by the stove, sleeves rolled up and wearing a grey apron, gaze focused on the simmering pot before him. The rich scent of ox bone soup filled the air, mixing with the smell of freshly cooked rice. His husband looked at him as he entered.

“Joonghyuk-ah.” He called out with a smile. “Up so early?”

“Idiot,” was the simple response. “Lunch is almost ready.”

“It smells amazing,” Kim Dokja commented brightly.

Yoo Joonghyuk gave the pot a final stir, then turned off the stove and started ladling the soup into a large bowl. Kim Dokja pulled out a stool by the marble island and watched him interestedly, his chin resting on his palm. With the meal almost ready, Yoo Joonghyuk carried the dishes to the dining table and meticulously arranged everything.

When he was done, Yoo Joonghyuk took off the apron and looked towards Kim Dokja. “Come, let’s eat.”

Kim Dokja followed him to the table and took a seat. Picking up his chopsticks, he carefully selected a piece of tender meat from the soup. His eyes lit up. He thought this every single time he ate one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s home cooked meals… but if Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t decided to be a CEO, Kim Dokja would bet on his life that the man would have risen to the top as the number one chef in Korea.

He savoured every bite of the meal. Yoo Joonghyuk sat across from him, sipping at the broth and watching him carefully. Was he waiting for a compliment? Kim Dokja almost laughed out loud. He finished chewing and swallowed the bite of food. “This was so good, Joonghyuk-ah. You really should’ve pursued a career in cooking instead.”

An odd look crossed Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, but it was quickly gone. Yoo Joonghyuk nodded silently, and then started to clear the table. Kim Dokja stood up to help him, collecting the empty dishes and cutlery. “You know, at the start, I wondered why you didn’t have a private chef.” He laughed. “I guess you’re that private chef, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“I can take care of the dishes myself, Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, seemingly ignoring him. “You can go relax.” With that, his husband took the dishes from his hands and turned on his heel towards the kitchen. Kim Dokja stared at his back, completely bemused. Which part of his sentence upset him again?

With nothing else to do, Kim Dokja retrieved another novel from the library and went to sit in the living room. His eyes were focused on the lines of text, but really, his mind wandered. His husband behaves so strangely at times. 

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[Eleven years ago]

Kim Dokja sighed in bliss as he bit into the sweet cream-filled pastry. It was light, airy, and absolutely delicious. Who knew Yoo Joonghyuk was also a brilliant baker? “Oh my god, Yoo Joonghyuk. You’ve outdone yourself again.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked sideways at him, acting as if the compliment didn’t mean much, but Kim Dokja could see his friend’s expression change imperceptibly. Yoo Joonghyuk was preening at the praise. He bit back a laugh and finished the rest of his pastry.

“This was so good, Yoo Joonghyuk. You really should pursue a career in cooking instead!”

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[Present Day]

The days pass by comfortably, uneventfully. Kim Dokja is now so used to Yoo Joonghyuk’s delicious foods that he suspected that he might starve himself to death if he ever had to eat other peoples’ cooking.

Every day, Kim Dokja repeats the same routine. Waking up, washing up, eating a delicious breakfast, getting dragged by Yoo Joonghyuk to the home gym for some exercise, reading, eating a delicious lunch, more reading, eating a delicious dinner, and then he and Yoo Joonghyuk do random things with each other, like watching a movie or playing video games together. He loves this life. It’s so laid back, relaxed… and Yoo Joonghyuk is an incredibly attentive and loving spouse.

But some things strike him as odd.

Despite the fact that weeks had already passed, he still could not remember anything. Didn’t Doctor Lee tell him at the very start that his memories would come back to him with time? Furthermore, he found that his recent memories were also getting foggier. He would sometimes catch himself staring at the pages of the book. What was this reference about? Had he already read about this, and forgotten the details mere chapters later?

Was his amnesia getting worse?

The thought was terrifying. He had already lost so many precious memories between him and Yoo Joonghyuk. He didn’t want to lose more.

Kim Dokja had confided in Lee Seolhwa at their weekly doctor’s appointments about this. “Doctor Lee,” he confessed. “I’ve found myself forgetting a lot of things lately. If I remember correctly…” He gave a small huff of laughter, realizing the irony of the statement. “You had told me that I would start remembering things with time, not the other way around. Should I be concerned?”

The white-haired woman gave a soft, affirmative hum, not even looking away from her monitor as she replied to him. “That is true, but it’s also natural for things to take a while. I wouldn’t be too worried about it.”

Well, fair enough. He thought, and turned to Yoo Joonghyuk behind him. “I think that’s all I want to ask, then.” Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, face unreadable. 

Doctor Lee spoke up again as Kim Dokja got up to leave. “Wait, Mr. Kim. Before you leave, please do a blood test with the nurse. She’ll be waiting for you outside.”

“Another one?” Kim Dokja met Doctor Lee’s eyes, confused. “But we just did one last week. And the week before that.”

“To better monitor your condition, it would be best to do one every week.” The doctor turned her gaze to Yoo Joonghyuk. “Mr. Yoo, please ensure that he’s getting the proper nutrients in his food, such as iron and vitamin B. I’ll give you a complete list. And Mr. Kim, don’t forget to take your medication and supplements.”

Every night, Kim Dokja would sit cross-legged on the edge of the bed, sighing as he looked down at the handful of pills and supplements in his palm. Yoo Joonghyuk stood over him and handed him a glass of water, looking down at him expectantly. Out of options, Kim Dokja could only gulp down the pills one by one, washing them down with water.

“We’re getting your stitches out in a few days,” Yoo Joonghyuk told him. “After a week or so, we can probably stop the painkillers.”

Kim Dokja nodded wordlessly and flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. To be honest, his pain tolerance was a lot higher than what Yoo Joonghyuk and Doctor Lee thought, so he really didn’t see the necessity of staying on painkillers even now. His wounds had healed pretty much completely. The bruises had faded from his body. The wound at his side was bandaged much more lightly. He had taken off the wrapped, white bandages around his forehead and traded them for a neat, square-shaped bandage covering over his stitches literally weeks ago. What was the point of so many pills?

And god, the supplements. The iron pill tasted like blood, and he always shuddered in disgust when he swallowed it down. Some of the supplements came in liquid form too, and he had to force himself to throw the small cup back like a shot in order for the awful taste to not stick to his tongue.

One day, Yoo Joonghyuk had to stay late at the company due to an overtime work meeting. Kim Dokja lay sideways on the bed, eyeing the pill containers and bottles that Yoo Joonghyuk had taken out of the medicine cabinet beforehand. Yoo Joonghyuk had left a sticky note on the nightstand too, reminding him to take his medicine according to the dosage they had maintained before. He sighed and rolled over into a sitting position.

Dexamethasone, according to the bottle. Vitamin B-12. Acetaminophen tablets. Vitamin B-9.  Ah, this one was that horrible iron supplement. Liquid supplements. Vitamin C shot. And…

Kim Dokja held up the last remaining pill bottle. It had no label on it, a stark contrast to the others, but he recognized the small white pills inside. He had taken that before too, but he had never known its name. He turned the bottle upside down, the small pills inside clacking as they fell to the top of the container. Nothing. Only the issue date was etched on the bottom.

He considered it, and then popped open the container and swallowed one.

That night, Yoo Joonghyuk came back at midnight. The door opened silently, and a ray of light fell across the bed. Kim Dokja groggily turned over in bed and called out softly towards the door. “Yoo Joonghyuk. You’re back.”

His husband crossed the room and bent down to kiss him on the forehead. “Did I wake you?”

“You’re fine. How was the meeting?”

“The usual.” Even through the darkness, Kim Dokja noticed his husband turning his head towards the nightstand. “You took all your medications?”

“Yeah. I was kinda curious, though.” Kim Dokja pushed himself up to half sit up in bed as Yoo Joonghyuk circled around the bed to put the bottles back into the drawer. “What’s the one that’s in that blank pill bottle?” Without giving Yoo Joonghyuk time to answer, Kim Dokja suggested, “Is it maybe B-9? I think Doctor Lee had written that on the checkup report. I wonder why she didn’t label it.”

His husband hesitated for a split second, but then agreed. “Yes, I believe it’s B-9. She might’ve just forgotten to put the label on that one.”

Satisfied with his check, Yoo Joonghyuk straightened up and walked towards the door. “I’ll wash up and join you soon. Sleep, Dokja.” The door closed, and the room was once again bathed in darkness. Kim Dokja lay in bed, all sleep gone from his eyes. 

He already had a separate bottle for that supplement. Yoo Joonghyuk was lying about his medication.

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja watched the rain outside patter against the large windows. Yoo Joonghyuk had made him a mug of hot tea, and he was curled comfortably on the couch with a book in his lap, but he wasn’t in the mood to read today.

He set the novel down beside the steaming mug of tea and stretched out on the couch. He sighed, fidgeting with the ring on his finger. He had no problem with staying indoors, but now, after everything, he was starting to feel stifled and trapped.

He didn’t blame Yoo Joonghyuk for wanting to protect him, but surely, he was being a little too much. There was no danger in going out, if he wasn’t alone…if he brought along a bodyguard, what problem would there be?

It was almost as if Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t want anyone else to see him.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he called out. His husband appeared, turning the corner and looking towards him expectantly. Kim Dokja got up and padded over to Yoo Joonghyuk in his slippers. He wrapped his arms around the tall, built man, and forced himself to smile up at him.

“I’ve been feeling kind of cooped up lately. Do you think we could go out today? Maybe…” Kim Dokja thought about it. “What about going shopping together?”

Kim Dokja already half-expected this, but Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression changed subtly at the very mention of going out. “No,” the handsome man replied. “But if you want to shop, we can do so online together.” Of course. He wouldn’t even let Kim Dokja shop online alone. Kim Dokja tried to maintain his smile.

“Joonghyuk-ah. Don’t you think this is all a bit much? I know you want to protect me, but I’m really not that fragile.” Kim Dokja let go of Yoo Joonghyuk and stepped backwards a little. He felt a little cold inside. Why was his own husband trying to control him so rigidly?

In response, Yoo Joonghyuk simply took his hand. “Kim Dokja, you don’t understand. It’s not safe for you right now. The only reason you ended up in the hospital in the first place was because you were attacked outside.” He traced a thumb along the line of Kim Dokja’s jaw. “I nearly lost you once. I can’t let that happen again.”

“Was I alone when I got attacked by that stalker the first time?” Kim Dokja asked. Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head. “Of course not. Just think back to the hospital again. Weren’t there guards outside your room that time as well?”

Kim Dokja nodded hesitantly. That part was true. He had caught a glimpse of the bodies outside his room as he fled from the assassi- no, stalker fan. But then, another question surfaced in his mind.

“Yoo Joonghyuk. You already killed him. Why wouldn’t it be safe for me to go out now?” Kim Dokja studied Yoo Joonghyuk’s face carefully. However, Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was a careful expression of concern, hiding away any other possible emotions. His hand was gentle as he cradled the side of Kim Dokja’s face, and Kim Dokja wanted to trust him so badly, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Just because this one is out of the way doesn’t mean that there aren’t others,” Yoo Joonghyuk answered. It was such a ridiculous reason, Kim Dokja thought. If he abided by his logic, he would have to lock himself up in a bunker and live out the rest of his days in terror of a threat that may or may not ever arrive.

“What are the chances that there’s another stalker who’s obsessed with me to the point of murder?” Kim Dokja bit back. “I get it, Yoo Joonghyuk, and I trust you. But please, don’t treat me like a prisoner.”

A dark look crossed Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, but it was gone so quickly that Kim Dokja almost wondered if he’d imagined it. “Of course, Dokja. We’ll find a way. Just trust me, okay?”

Kim Dokja’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of suspicion flashing across his features before he wiped it off and smoothly masked it with a sweet smile. He nodded. Kim Dokja didn’t doubt their marriage and history, but he could feel it. Yoo Joonghyuk was hiding something important from him. From the first way that Yoo Joonghyuk refused to let him leave the mansion, to the unlabeled white pills…something didn’t feel right.

Yoo Joonghyuk left to go work in his study. Kim Dokja settled on the couch again and picked up the book, but he didn’t open it.

The cup sat on the coffee table, warm steam rising from its surface. The rain pattered harder against the sides of the mansion. All the lights were off in the living room, and in the slightly dark, dim lighting, Kim Dokja could see his own reflection in the window. It was so strange… Although he was staring at his own face, Kim Dokja felt that he couldn’t recognize the person before him. A dark-haired young man, with a pale face and striking black eyes, sitting on a comfortable couch with a book in his lap. Living comfortably, happily, in the house of his loving husband.

He smiled sadly and watched his reflection smile mirthlessly back at him. Despite everything that didn’t make sense, this was the life that he yearned for. Even without his memories, he could tell that he was living his dream.

But of course, that was the problem.

.

.

.

Yoo Joonghyuk sat down behind his desk heavily. His fingers touched the scattered papers and documents on the surface of his mahogany desk, and he swept them to the side and heaved a deep sigh, feeling desperation and suffocating fear creep up in his chest.

Why couldn’t Kim Dokja just stop thinking so much?

Why can’t he just accept this life? This is how it was supposed to be. They are happy. Isn’t that enough?

Yoo Joonghyuk hated this side of Kim Dokja.

Smart, cunning, forever ten steps in front of everyone. His actions were calculated, deliberate, and you would walk willingly into his beautifully constructed trap, step by step, until you fell headfirst into the abyss. He would never reveal his true emotions, and would instead keep them locked up inside and keep his face neutral. And in that second of seeing Kim Dokja’s expressionless face, Yoo Joonghyuk was sent back to that night, standing in the pouring rain in a blood-soaked shirt, and staring, devastated, at the expressionless Kim Dokja before him.

Even after having lost all of his memory, Kim Dokja still didn’t change. Yoo Joonghyuk liked it when Kim Dokja let his guard down. He had once been like that, in the distant past of their  high-school years. Kim Dokja staring at his novel, enraptured, eyes wide and sweeping rapidly across the pages. Kim Dokja wrinkling his nose at the tomatoes that Yoo Joonghyuk put in his bento as punishment. Kim Dokja teasing him, laughing, sparkling eyes crinkling into beautiful crescents. Why couldn’t he just put down his guard for once, and let others in again?

No, Yoo Joonghyuk forced himself to stay calm. He didn’t remember anything. This was the same Kim Dokja from before. If he had to double the dosage of the drug to keep things this way, so be it. To hell with Lee Seolhwa – Kim Dokja would be fine. 

His hand curled slowly into a fist, and with the crinkling of paper, he realized that his hand was resting on a newspaper. Yoo Joonghyuk gave a cold huff of laughter and let go of the crumpled paper, staring coldly at the black words on white paper – “Genius Entrepreneur Guwon Disappears From Public View”.

And if Yoo Joonghyuk had any say in this, it would remain that way.

He picked up the newspaper and walked over to the wall, where hundreds of pictures and newspaper clippings and articles were pinned up in full view. Every single one was Kim Dokja. Stolen, secret photos of him in public. Obscure articles hinting at his actions as a mafia boss. Mysterious deaths that were suspected to be either directed by or carried out by the Prince of the Underworld himself.

In life, in death, in hatred, or in love… It has always been him.

Yoo Joonghyuk picked up a switchblade and stabbed the newspaper clipping into the wall.

Chapter Text

[One year ago]

A man stood at the edge of a distant rooftop, the cool night air blowing through strands of his dark hair. Black trench coat flapping slightly in the slight breeze on the rooftop, he stared coldly down into the distance, where far below, an extravagant party raged. The far building below them was the ballroom of one of the most expensive hotels in the area, lined with gorgeous, sprawling windows, and filled with the most rich and famous.

“He sure knows how to enjoy himself,” Han Sooyoung commented dryly, heels clicking on the cement as she stepped closer to the edge of the building. Kim Dokja gave a hum of agreement and set down the heavy case he was holding.

Kim Dokja knelt silently on the rooftop. The latches of the weapon case clicked open, the sound sharp and clean in the stillness of night. He lifted the sniper rifle, the cold metal gleaming with lethality as he assembled it with slow, practiced ease. Kim Dokja tightened the final adjustment on the rifle, the faint click of the mechanism blending into the quiet hum of the city below. Han Sooyoung shivered as he shifted into position, lying low and adjusting himself so that he laid comfortably behind his weapon, the rifle’s barrel extending over the edge. “Ugh, it’s so cold.” She complained.

He sighed. “You can go back if you want. Don’t take my car.” His eye met the scope, and the world narrowed to a single, distant target.

His best friend and right-hand woman grumbled but made no move to leave. “Really, Kim Dokja. Why do you insist on doing this yourself instead of getting one of your faithful men to take care of it? We’d both be sitting happily at home right now if it weren’t for you.”

“Hey, I can only rely on myself for this one. My men can easily lie to me…or just simply miss the target altogether. And then I’d be letting the old bastard slip through my fingers.” Kim Dokja glanced back at Han Sooyoung, smirking at her teasingly. “And I can’t ask you, since you couldn’t snipe a target if he stood six feet away.”

Han Sooyoung stepped on Kim Dokja’s back, hard. Kim Dokja gave a grunt of pain, and Han Sooyoung smirked in satisfaction. Kim Dokja took his eye away from the lens, flashing her a warning look. He turned his attention back to the view inside the lens. “Do that again and I’ll throw you off the side of this building.”

“I didn’t even put my heel into it,” Han Sooyoung laughed and squatted down beside him. “Plus, you could never bring yourself to do it.”

Kim Dokja ignored her and focused on the view inside his crosshairs. The zoom was impeccable, as always. He could see even the individual hairs on peoples’ heads as his crosshairs moved through the crowds and landed square on his target. “There. Han Sooyoung, stay down.”

Han Sooyoung sat down beside him and pulled out binoculars of her own. “Found him?”

“Yes.” The crosshairs followed the movements of an older, fat man with grey and black mixed hair and heavy jewels glittering on his swollen fingers. He wore an expensive red-brown suit with a flashy leopard print tie, and Kim Dokja made a noise of disgust as his lens focused on the man’s pig eyes and trimmed handlebar mustache. “He looks as ugly as ever.”

“No kidding,” Han Sooyoung agreed, looking through her own binoculars. “Say, Kim Dokja. Will there be any big consequences to killing him tonight?”

The young man laughed, not even moving from his position. “Of course there will. Plenty of consequences associated with killing a fellow mafia boss.”

“And will they affect us negatively?”

“No. I’ve been preparing for this moment for years. And best timing too, since if I don’t blow his brains out now, that pig will come for me soon anyways.”

“Why? We all know he’s an awful person, but I don’t think I’ve really heard the reason for him to come after you.”

“Well…” Kim Dokja hummed, contemplating his next words. “He’s reached an understanding with Asmodeus, so he thinks he has a clear shot at me now. And as for the reason, I might have…disrespected him before.”

“How?”

“Look at his face. Do you notice anything?”

Han Sooyoung picked up her binoculars again and studied the man’s face. After a few seconds, she lowered them and gave Kim Dokja an unsure look. “His nose?”

“Yes,” Kim Dokja agreed. “Broke that a few years back, and it never healed quite right for old man Park Hyuntae there. Still holds a grudge, to this very day.”

Han Sooyoung whistled. “Damn… how old were you?”

“Nineteen.”

Han Sooyoung looked over at her friend, expression complicated. It was times like these that made her realize how young Kim Dokja had been when he was first dragged into this entire mess against his will. “...You got involved in all of this way too young.”

Kim Dokja was uncharacteristically quiet. After a while, he spoke up again, voice low. “You’re not one to speak.”

“Don’t make this about me! 21 is old enough.”

“You never should have gotten yourself involved in the first place!” Kim Dokja snapped, turning his full attention to Han Sooyoung, eyes flashing with anger.

Han Sooyoung sighed. “Hey now. I had things I wanted for myself anyways, and joining you was just one way I was able to do so. Don’t think too highly of yourself, idiot.”

The silence hung between them. Kim Dokja looked away, suddenly focused on his weapon. Han Sooyoung shifted uncomfortably in her position on the ground.

“...Anyways, still not gonna pay your dry cleaning bill.”

That unexpected comment completely broke the seriousness of the moment. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “Like hell you are. If you left a dirty shoe print on my back you better take responsibility for it.”

“Ugh, shut up. Focus on your gun thing – are you gonna kill him or not?”

Kim Dokja sighed. Han Sooyoung stuck out her tongue childishly and took out her phone to type out a quick message to Yoo Sangah, taking her attention off the party scene below. “Have to give you credit, though. With your skills, there’s no way he’s surviving tonight.”

Kim Dokja hummed in reply, tilting his head into the lens and closing one eye. Through the crosshairs, he carefully followed the path of the man, watching as he approached the large windows with a champagne glass, saying something to the people mingling around him and raising the glass up higher. A clear shot.

He took aim, focusing again. His breathing slowed, each inhale and exhale deliberate, controlled. The red cross zeroed in on the man’s forehead, directly in between his eyes.

Now. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Instead of hearing the echo of the gunshot and the chaos and commotion below that should’ve ensued, Han Sooyoung heard Kim Dokja’s breath shudder in his chest. She whirled around. “What happened? What’s wrong?”  She knew very well that a sniper’s most crucial move was adjusting their breathing and heartbeat to the timing of the shot. Disturbing that rhythm could easily result in a disastrous missed shot, leaving the target alive and more cautious and paranoid than ever and thus, losing their chance forever.

Kim Dokja’s eyes shook. He had stopped himself from firing the rifle in that last second. Someone had stepped directly into his line of sight, obscuring his direct shot and hiding his target from view. A tall man wearing a tailored black suit had moved into the center of his crosshairs. 

He could recognize that back anywhere. Tousled, wavy hair, broad shoulders…the man turned, revealing the handsome side profile of someone extremely familiar.

Why the hell was Yoo Joonghyuk there?

Han Sooyoung snatched up her binoculars and let out a string of unladylike curses when she caught sight of who Kim Dokja was looking at. “Yoo Joonghyuk?! What the hell is that guy doing at Park Hyuntae’s banquet??” 

Kim Dokja couldn’t answer. Yoo Joonghyuk was an invited guest at Park Hyuntae’s banquet. Park Hyuntae, a horrible scumbag of a man who had tried to assault Kim Dokja multiple times and attempted to kill him many more. One of the top threats to Kim Dokja’s life. If Yoo Joonghyuk was on the list of high-profile guests, it was almost guaranteed that he would be one of Park Hyungtae’s top allies. Kim Dokja stared at the face of Yoo Joonghyuk in his lens as he tried to still his trembling hands. He knew Yoo Joonghyuk hated him, but not to this extent.

As he watched, heart thundering in his chest, Park Hyuntae grinned nastily and said something to Yoo Joonghyuk. The handsome man gave a shallow smile in response and held out his hand to shake Park Hyuntae’s. Then, the older man waved for one of his attendants to bring over a case. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened. He could recognize his own organization’s drug anywhere – how did Park Hyuntae get that?

There wasn’t enough time to think. Park Hyuntae knew too much. He had to do it now, no matter what. Kim Dokja steeled himself, lining up his gun back into position. And when Yoo Joonghyuk turned to the side, leaving a small opening for Kim Dokja to take a shot at Park Hyuntae, he squeezed the trigger without hesitation.

As the bullet found its target, all hell broke loose. Glass shattered, spraying shards everywhere. Panic erupted, and guests in the expensive banquet venue scattered, running in every direction, and racing for the exit. And as Park Hyuntae went down in a spray of blood, a bloody hole right between his eyes, Yoo Joonghyuk whirled around.

At that moment, Yoo Joonghyuk stared directly into Kim Dokja’s eyes. Although Kim Dokja knew that there was no way that he had caught sight of him from such a distance, he gave a jolt, cold sweat running down his back.

Han Sooyoung gasped in shock and amazement beside him. Kim Dokja had fired a perfect shot from hundreds of meters away, with wind disturbance and through a pane of glass – all that without even lining up his breathing and heartbeat. She turned to congratulate him. “Good god, Kim Dokja! You –”

Kim Dokja was packing up the equipment with trembling hands. Han Sooyoung instantly realized that something was not right. He looked shaken, and Han Sooyoung could see a faint trace of horror in his expression. “We need to leave. Now.”

Han Sooyoung followed his instruction without a word. She picked up the case and hurried to the rooftop exit, not missing the way that Kim Dokja stood up shakily and glanced behind him one last time before following after her. The elevator ride down was silent, tense. Kim Dokja closed his eyes and leaned against one wall, a hand clutching the front of his coat as he steadied his breathing. Han Sooyoung looked away. Kim Dokja is unshakable and heartless when it comes to himself, but he always loses his calm when it’s Yoo Joonghyuk.

When they reached Kim Dokja’s sleek black car, he was about to open the driver’s door when Han Sooyoung stopped him. She tossed the heavy case in the back and grabbed his wrist. “Kim Dokja. I’ll drive. Go lie down in the back.” The pale young man stared at her for a second, looking as if he was about to argue, but then nodded silently and went to sit in the back. Han Sooyoung stepped into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, clicking in her seatbelt as she put the car into reverse.

The ride was smooth. Not too many cars were on the road at this hour of the night, and the car sped down the highway with little disturbance. Han Sooyoung glanced at Kim Dokja in the rearview mirror. The man lay silently across the leather seats, covering his face with one arm. Han Sooyoung watched him worriedly. Despite being his closest friend and confidant, not even she knew what he was thinking.

.

.

.

I almost killed him.

In that single, reckless moment, he had almost killed Yoo Joonghyuk. 

If the wind had been just a slight bit harsher, or if the window pane had been a tinier thicker than expected, or maybe if Yoo Joonghyuk had moved to the side in the single second that the bullet had been fired… Yoo Joonghyuk would have been the one to bleed out lifelessly on those marble floors.

He was no stranger to killing those around him. Kim Dokja remembered the wetness and clammy feeling of having his own father’s crimson blood on his hands, a kitchen knife clutched in his small hands, watching helplessly as the life left his mother’s eyes. He remembered the way his shoes slipped in blood as he threw open the door to Namgung Minyoung’s study, feeling his heart drop to the pits of his stomach. He remembered standing over his old master, staring down coldly as the mafia boss’s corpse grew cold.

With his position as the Prince of the Underworld, a fearsome mafia boss that half the world wanted dead, it is kill or be killed. He had taken out many of his own supposed allies to protect his own life…but when it comes to the actual people he held dear? He could never, ever do it.

But tonight, Kim Dokja had been mere inches away from killing Yoo Joonghyuk himself.

Chapter Text

After returning to Kim Dokja’s place, Han Sooyoung stood by and silently watched as he shed his black coat and immediately made a few phone calls in cold seriousness. The man stood in his office facing the night view through the large floor to ceiling windows, one hand tucked in his suit pocket as he held his phone to his ear with the other.

“Asmodeus.”

His voice was low and calm, but anyone listening could tell that Kim Dokja was terrifyingly furious. “I’ll give you exactly 30 seconds to explain why Park Hyuntae had access to the Underworld’s new designer drugs.”

The room was silent as Kim Dokja listened, his expression darkening with every passing moment. Han Sooyoung crossed her arms and fell backwards onto the expensive black couch on the other side of the room, tilting her head to the side so that she could keep him in her peripheral vision. Asmodeus is one of the higher ranking members in the family, being the main overseer of most drug development and trafficking related operations, but every single decision still goes through Kim Dokja. Anything going against his wishes or without his knowledge is betrayal, plain and simple…and of course, even the slightest hint of such is punishable by death.

When Asmodeus had supposedly finished his explanations, Kim Dokja gave a light huff of laughter, his gaze icy. “If it were anyone else, Asmodeus, I’d already have set out a kill order. Don’t disobey my instructions…this is your last chance.” 

As the conversation went on, Kim Dokja tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear and reached into his black suit jacket with one hand to pull out a box of cigarettes. With a practiced hand, he slid one out and put it between his lips before taking out a silver lighter. Han Sooyoung watched silently as the flickering flame licked at the end of the cigarette before lighting it, casting a warm glow upon Kim Dokja’s pale face as he looked down through his lashes.

“...I see.” He murmured as he snapped the lighter lid shut and tucked it back within his suit pocket. A faint thread of smoke curled upwards from the end of his cigarette, and Kim Dokja took a long drag as he once again held his phone in one hand. “If that’s all. Yes. Wait for my approval.” There was a short pause, and then the tone of his voice suddenly changed; even the temperature of the room seemed to drop with it.

“Are you questioning me?”

Silence, and then a soft laugh could be heard. “I figured as much. Watch your step, Asmo.”

With that, Kim Dokja seemed to hang up on Asmodeus. He turned around, lowering his phone, and smiled bitterly at Han Sooyoung. The carpet muffled his footsteps as he made his way over. “Asmodeus had decided to anonymously grant a case of the newest developments to the highest bidder on the black market. He thought it would increase demand for future release.”

The man sank down on the sofa and crossed one leg over the other, tossing his phone carelessly onto the cushions between them. “Anyways, I’ll take care of it. Asmodeus knows better than to go against me.” He put the lit cigarette to his lips again, breathing out smoke slowly before turning to Han Sooyoung and giving her a slightly apologetic smile. “Thank you for going out with me tonight, Sooyoung-ah.”

“Of course.” 

When Kim Dokja made no further move, simply shutting his eyes and leaning back into the couch cushions, Han Sooyoung sighed. She shrugged off her own suit jacket, tossing it to the side, and crossed her arms seriously. “Bastard. I’m not leaving till we talk about the elephant in the room.”

Kim Dokja’s eyes were suddenly open, flashing a look at her in warning. “Sooyoung-ah. We’re not doing this now.”

“What was that back there? Kim Dokja, years of no contact and the first time he appears is today of all days, as the special guest of a man who’s tried to kill you a thousand times over. And you were so shaken that you–”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Kim Dokja…” Han Sooyoung’s voice was soft but pleading. “We all know that you have a soft spot for him only. Either you tell him the truth, or–”

“Han Sooyoung.”

The young woman fell silent, her expression one of utter exasperation. She laughed derisively, brows furrowing as she gave him a frustrated, forced smile. “...You love him. Why can’t you just tell him the truth?”

Finally, after a long silence, Kim Dokja leaned over and pressed his cigarette into the ashtray on the table. With a quiet voice that only barely betrayed the tremor in his voice, he said, “Because knowing the truth would only put him in danger.”

Kim Dokja paused, giving a short, mirthless laugh.

“And because he would never believe me.”

.

.

.

Han Sooyoung threw open the door fiercely with Yoo Sangah close on her heels. The door slammed against the wall before Sangah shut it behind them, and Kim Dokja looked up, his brow furrowing before relaxing when he saw who it was. “Sooyoung-ah. Sangah-ssi. What–”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Han Sooyoung crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed his collar, slamming him backwards against his chair. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened in surprise and confusion, raising his hands to defend himself before slowly letting them drop to the armrests of his chair, wincing at the movement.

“He’s going to kill you!” Han Sooyoung cried, eyes blazing. “You idiot ! While you’ve been trying to ignore it into going away, he’s been teaming up with every single one of your enemies. He won’t stop until you’re dead, Kim Dokja!”

The room seemed to ring with the accusation. Sangah gently took Han Sooyoung’s hand and pulled her away from Kim Dokja. The young woman took a step backwards, her expression filled with desperation. “Open your eyes,” Han Sooyoung begged, “he’s not the same person you knew anymore. Just look at yourself, Kim Dokja! He’s going to kill you!”

Kim Dokja’s face grew even paler, and he shifted to move his bandaged arm out of view. “Listen, Sooyoung. I understand that I should’ve…”

“You haven’t sustained a single injury for years, but the second he’s involved you nearly get yourself killed. At least fight back, suicidal bastard!”

Yoo Sangah sighed and placed a comforting hand on Han Sooyoung’s shoulder. “Dokja-ssi. Sooyoung is right.” She held out a black file folder. Wordlessly, Kim Dokja accepted the file from her extended hand and flipped through its contents, expression grim. Yoo Sangah watched his face carefully while Han Sooyoung threw herself into the chair across from his desk, fuming. “Six more of our men are dead, Kim Dokja-ssi. We haven’t experienced this kind of loss since when you first took power.”

“We’ve grown since then. This means nothing.” Kim Dokja’s voice was tight as he closed the file and massaged his temple with his uninjured hand. “I understand what you’re saying, but I doubt this is related to him. I will call a meeting in regards to the turf wars.”

Yoo Sangah studied his expression for a minute longer, and then smiled sadly. “If that’s what you wish, Boss. All I can do at this point is to ask you to be careful. Please. ” She turned towards the other woman. “Come on, Sooyoung.” She reached for her hand, but Sooyoung stood and faced the man sitting behind the ornate desk, suddenly terrifyingly calm.

“Kim Dokja. You’ve sacrificed so much and given everything to be standing here today. I can’t let you throw this all away. If you won’t kill him, I will.”

“ Han Sooyoung.”

Kim Dokja stood, eyes ablaze. “Don’t you dare.” At this moment, with all of the comfortable familiarity gone from his voice and expression, he no longer felt like that same young man who smiled and joked in the way that those of his age should. Instead, he was the perfect representation of the powerful, murderous mafia boss he was; one who could do unspeakable things without batting an eye.

Han Sooyoung, ever the powerful woman of her own right and his faithful right hand, didn’t even flinch. “If you let this keep going on, we’ll all end up dead! Does that not matter to you?”

"Sooyoung!" Yoo Sangah raised her voice in warning. She looked worriedly at his reaction, but Kim Dokja's expression was unreadable. He said nothing, and after a moment, he sank slowly back into his chair, running a hand over his face tiredly.

“...I won’t let any of you get hurt.”

“And what about you?!”

“My life is his to take, Han Sooyoung.” Kim Dokja looked up at her and smiled, but there was no light in his eyes. “I owe him that much.”

The room was silent, and then Han Sooyoung huffed furiously and stormed out of the room. Yoo Sangah turned to follow her, but not before looking back towards Kim Dokja. The young man looked grim, but still managed to give her a sad smile. 

“I’m sorry, Sangah-ssi. I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

The young woman smiled and tucked a lock of her long brown hair behind her ear. “It’s alright, Kim Dokja-ssi. I’m happy to do anything for you, Sooyoung as well. Besides, I trust your judgement.” She bowed slightly and moved to reach for the door handle.

“Wait a moment, Yoo Sangah-ssi.”

“Ah, yes?”

“Could you please call Heewon-ssi?”

Yoo Sangah’s eyes lit up. “Of course. Are you thinking of placing her at your side as a bodyguard?”

Kim Dokja’s face was carefully expressionless as he shook his head. “I intend to place her as a bodyguard at Yoo Joonghyuk’s side.”

.

.

.

[Present Day]

“Kim Dokja.”

Yoo Joonghyuk was calling for him from the front lobby. Kim Dokja pushed open the door to the master bedroom and walked over to the upper floor railing to look down below. His husband was standing there, motioning at him to join him downstairs. Someone was standing next to him, but the lights were off in the lobby, casting the guest in complete darkness.

When he reached Yoo Joonghyuk’s side, his husband took his hand and pulled him closer. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

Kim Dokja nodded, and Yoo Joonghyuk continued, “She’s worked for me for years, and now, she will be your personal bodyguard.”

A pretty woman stepped forward into the dim lighting cast down from the lights upstairs. Her dark hair was tied up in a neat bun, and her clothes were polished and professional – a black waistcoat and a white button-up, paired with dress pants. Kim Dokja’s eyes flicked down to her red tie, distracted by the colour, before looking back at her face.

He hesitated, and then extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Dokja.”

Why did her expression change for a split second like that?

Ever so composed and trained, the woman’s expression only faltered for a second before slipping into a professional smile. She took his hand and shook it.

“...Honoured to meet you. My name is Jung Heewon.”