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‎‧₊˚✧  1  ✧˚₊‧

our lord and saviour han sooyoung

>> IM SORRY I CANT MAKE IT

>> editor just pulled a last min deadline on me

>> that fucking asshole

>> anyway now i got like another 4k to finish by tn… hope u can forgive me my fave rat, bbq on me next time ok <3 

>> dont pass out alone in the woods or anything i believe in u

>> gotta lock in now talk to u on the other side (if that fucker lets me live that is) 

Kim Dokja stared at the messages pinging in from Han Sooyoung, indignation pulling a loud, dramatic sigh from his lips. 

He stuffed his phone into his pocket, and looked around in dismay at the lovey couples, lone hikers, and chattering groups of ahjummas milling in and out of the trailhead, passing the signpost clearly marked Namsan Tower 2km, along with a helpful arrow pointing in the upward direction. It was busy, as expected for the weekend, even despite the fact that he and Sooyoung had agreed to meet at the start of a side trail, knowing the main entrance would be chock full of tourists. 

He glanced down at himself, feeling, not for the first time that day, ridiculous in his dusty running shorts that he’d pulled out from some unused corner of his closet for this occasion. This specific occasion that Han Sooyoung had insisted on, needling him about the fact that the two of them spent way too much time cooped up in the darkness of their respective apartments and desperately needed to touch grass, literally. Nevermind that she was right, Dokja was perfectly happy with his shut-in lifestyle, thank you very much. It was bad enough that he was forced to go into work everyday to afford rent, he didn’t really understand why he would subject himself to anything else related to being outdoors. 

But here he was, dressed for a hike, limbs exposed and showing off just how embarrassingly pale he was from lack of sun exposure. And now the one who’d irritatingly pestered him into agreeing to this too-early Sunday activity in the first place, wasn’t even here. 

Dokja let out another huff, drawing looks from the many people around him who apparently did this sort of thing willingly on their weekends, as if he’s the strange one in the crowd. 

He could just turn around and leave. 

Since Sooyoung couldn’t even come anymore, that sounded more than a little enticing. He could hop back on the bus, grab a bowl of naengmyeon from his favorite bunsik place on the corner of his street, and spend the rest of his day huddled in bed in peace with that new web novel he’d been meaning to start. And then there’d be no physical exertion or sweating in Seoul heat required. 

But then he would’ve dragged himself up the stupidly steep hills of Yongsan for nothing, dug through his ratty old college sweaters to find these shorts for nothing. Hell, he’d even told Yoo Sangah that he was going hiking before leaving work on Friday, knowing she’d be happy to hear that he had weekend plans for once – so backing out now would be probably more than just a little pathetic. 

It wasn’t a difficult trail, Han Sooyoung had told him. An hour and a half at most, and not even that steep, honestly more of a glorified walk than a real hike. Knowing both of their very limited physical capabilities, she hadn’t wanted to push it. 

Dokja watched as little elderly men and women passed him, not a single one looking even remotely daunted at the prospect of climbing this urban mountain. He straightened his back a bit and made a resolute decision. 

He was here already. He might as well touch the damned grass. 

—

Famous last words, by yours truly. 

He was two hours in and somehow had made not one, not two, but three wrong turns. Initially he’d just been following along whichever trails everyone else seemed to be climbing but around halfway up the crowds had begun to thin out, until he’d found himself alone in the forested hills high above the city.

He swore his sense of direction really wasn’t that terrible – it’s just the signs were so damned confusing and sometimes the trail would just randomly branch off somewhere. He wouldn’t even realize he’d gone off the main trail until like twenty minutes had passed and he had to retrace his steps.

Worst of all, he’d run out of water and it was inching past noon, the sun blazing at full force at its zenith. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sweat this much – seriously he’d forgotten his body was even capable of producing this much moisture. 

I’m gonna die here, he thought, tongue running across his parched lips as he plopped down on the first bench he’d passed in a while. 

Dokja leaned back on his hands, praying that he’d at least be blessed with some sort of breeze but alas, the hellish Seoul summer day couldn’t give him even that. The air sat thick and muggy across his skin, doing nothing to evaporate the perspiration dripping down his neck. 

Seriously, he should probably turn back lest he actually perish from dehydration or something, but at this point he was probably closer to the top than he was the bottom and there must be shops up there selling water, right? 

Crunching footsteps broke him out of his sweaty, miserable thoughts – they were approaching in rapid rhythm but Dokja couldn’t fathom what kind of deranged masochist would be trail running in this kind of heat. 

His question was quickly answered as a figure rounded the curve of trees, a six-foot-something demigod of a man clad in a black muscle shirt and matching running shorts, the fabric clinging to his chest – not in the way Dokja’s was as if he’d just had an unfortunate run-in with a malfunctioning fire hydrant – but more like a protagonist-that-just-jumped-out-of-a-wholly-unrealistic-manhwa sort of way. No seriously, Dokja couldn’t help but squint at the man’s fast approaching pecs because he just had to know if they were real or not. Were boob jobs for men a thing now? I mean, he wouldn’t put it past Seoul’s insane, insatiable aesthetics industry but this–

“Is there a problem?” 

A rumbling, impatient voice interrupted Dokja’s fervent internal debate and it was only then that he realized those firm yet impossibly plush-looking pectoral muscles had stopped right in front of his face. A pair of equally built arms crossed over them, somewhat disappointingly stealing the chest muscles from his view. 

Dokja’s face sprang upward to meet a pair of intense, deep-set eyes that looked just as annoyed as the voice had sounded.

“Uh–” he fumbled, trying very hard to come up with something to say other than question the stranger on whether or not man boob jobs were a thing. 

Dark brows furrowed, and the other’s (unfairly sculpted) jaw twitched with irritation. “Why are you staring at me?” 

“Do you have any water on you?” Dokja blurted out the first thing he could think of. “I–uh, don’t have any.” Okay, at least that was true. 

The man frowned and gave him possibly the most palpable are-you-stupid look Dokja had ever seen in his life. “What kind of fool goes on a hike in 35 degree weather without water?” 

“I brought some!” he protested in defense. “I just ran out, that's all.” 

Those stormy eyes scrutinized him up and down, as if assessing whether his pathetic ass was worth saving from heatstroke, before grunting and reaching into the small running pack on his back and pulling out a bottle. 

“Tha–”

Dokja barely had time to react before it was tossed at him, and by the time he’d firmly had the blessedly cool plastic weight in his hands, the stranger had already taken off, his back steadily retreating away up the trail. 

He bolted up to call after him. “Hey, wait could you also point me to which direction leads to the…”

He trailed off as the other man jogged out of sight. It’s possible he hadn’t heard his parting question but it seemed more likely that he had just ignored it, unwilling to humor Dokja any further. 

Dokja plopped back down onto the bench sullenly. Well, at least he had water now. He unscrewed the cap and greedily gulped down the thirst-quenching liquid, downing more than half of it in one go. 

Wiping some stray drops that dribbled down his chin, he looked up the trail in the direction the man had run in and wondered if he should try to continue his way to the summit. 

Nah, better not. 

He didn’t have enough confidence in himself to find the right path, at least not without running out of water again in due time. He’d also already spent way more time outside than he’d been willing to tolerate.

With that in mind, he took one more sparing sip of water before dusting himself off and turning to the opposite direction that the hot guy had run off to. 

That’s enough grass-touching for a whole month, Dokja thought while shaking his head. Seriously, this was the last time he was going to get roped into anything by Sooyoung. 

‎‧₊˚✧  2  ✧˚₊‧

“No!” 

“Come on, let me make it up to you for bailing last time.”

“You can make it up to me by not making me go again.” 

“It’ll be fun! Bonding time with your favorite author, eh?” 

Dokja rolled his eyes and slumped further into Sooyoung’s plush couch, situated in the very middle of her overly extravagant apartment. “You know I just survived one of Minosoft’s damn work sprints - I’m running on two hours of sleep.” 

The author in question plopped down next to him, bouncing airily against the cushions. “All the more reason we should go. You know what they say about how being in nature energizes you and all that,” Sooyoung pontificated, hand waving in his face. 

He peeked at her suspiciously. “What’s gotten into you lately? Why the sudden interest in the great outdoors?” 

She blinked her eyes, long dark lashes fluttering as if she were trying to put on some sort of girlishly innocent expression. Unluckily for the fox-eyed writer, it wasn’t a look that worked for her. “I’m just caring for both of our health. You know once we hit our thirties, it’s only downhill from there if we don’t strengthen our bodies now.” 

“Oh yeah? And I thought you once said that your mind was the only muscle you were concerned with.” 

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to be smart and sexy.” 

Dokja straightened up and raised his voice in accusation. “So this is all because you’re trying to impress someone, isn’t it!” 

Sooyoung just stood and turned away to grab her knapsack. “Come on, we’ll take the tourist route this time so there’s no chance that even you could get lost.” 

“I didn’t get lost last time! And I’m not taking any route, because I’m not coming!” But for some reason, he found himself standing up regardless of his protests. “Also you didn’t answer my question.” 

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I don't want to hear any judgment about the love life I may or may not have from you of all people.” 

Without waiting for him to give any more pushback, she hopped up and pushed a baseball cap onto him. “C’mon, I promise not to let you almost pass out this time.” 

—

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t know it was possible for a person to be this slow!” Han Sooyoung called from about 20 meters ahead, hands on her hips. 

Kim Dokja laboriously dragged his feet, breaths coming out almost too heavy for him to retort back. Almost. 

“Yeah maybe I’d be faring better if I wasn’t carrying all the water for me and you!” he gritted, pointedly readjusting the ten pound pack on his back. Not to mention this particular section of the road was almost illegally steep, not that he was going to admit it to Sooyoung. Wasn’t the tourist way supposed to be easy? 

“You would allow a lady to carry such a burden?”

“I don’t see any ladies around here,” he muttered, forcing himself forward to where the impatient writer was waiting. 

“I heard that!” 

He stuck his tongue out at her. 

“Anyway, I’m not the one who insisted on bringing three liters of water just for themselves,” she teased as he (okay, slowly) neared her. “That’s like double what I have in there.” 

Dokja took one final, heavy step before stopping to wipe his forehead. “You don’t know how close I was to dying last time. If I hadn’t ran into this random rude guy who gave me some of his water, you seriously would’ve seen my face plastered on the evening news.” 

“Okay, first of all, dramatic,” she rolled her eyes. “Second of all, if he saved your life, how is he rude?”

“He just was,” Dokja frowned.

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged, before tugging on his arm. “Anyway, come on, there's a viewpoint just up ahead I want to see.” 

She pointed upwards, and Dokja nearly cried to see that the hill, somehow, got steeper. 

“Let me take a break first,” he sighed. The backpack was really heavy – it was possible he had gotten carried away for the amount of water needed for this low level hike, but in his defense that first time had been seriously traumatizing. 

“Fine,” Sooyoung scoffed. “I’m just gonna run ahead and take a look then, I’ll be back.”

Dokja waved her off and went in search of somewhere to take a seat. Just off to the side of the road was a branching dirt trail, and he spotted a bench just a few meters in, shaded by trees. 

Relieved, he dumped his bag down, followed by himself. Digging into it, he retrieved one of the water bottles and drank to his heart’s content. At least this way, the bag was getting steadily lighter as they went on. 

After finishing, he stowed the bottle back and sat back, taking a deep inhale of the crisp, woody air. 

He closed his eyes and relished the fair breeze that rustled the leaves nearby, cooling the sweat off his brows. The weather today was thankfully much more merciful than last time – with summer beginning to wind down, temperatures were dropping to something much more bearable. 

Suddenly, feeling as if he were in his own little world consisting of nothing except the soft stirring of trees above and whispering of wind all around, he could almost begin to appreciate that this was sort of nice. Peaceful. Calming even with–

“Did you forget your water again?” 

A familiarly deep voice cut through his reflections, rather rudely interrupting his quiet moment. His eyes flew open and was met with the handsome face of his saviour from a couple weeks back. 

“Huh?” he gasped, very articulate. 

The man’s eyes narrowed, staring down at him as if speaking to him was an insult to his own intelligence. 

“Did you forget to bring water again?” he repeated, the question phrased more like a demand. “You look like you’re passing out.” 

Dokja sat up straight, spluttering indignantly and not even knowing where to start. “Wha–?! Where did you even–? Okay, first of all, I’m not passing out, I was just enjoying the peace and quiet, which you’ve now boorishly disturbed!”

“Also, I did not forget my water last time, what the hell! I told you I ran out!” He scrambled to unzip his knapsack, pulling it wide open to proudly showcase the five bottles packed tightly within. 

“Look! I brought plenty this time,” he barreled on. “I even bought hydration tablets on my way here, the good kind. And I know they’re good too, since my friend who’s like a 5-dan kendo instructor uses them and I even checked with her to make sure it was the right brand. So as you can see, I’ve got enough hydration to fill a swimming pool – I’ve got no need for your charity today, alright?” 

As soon as the last word left his mouth, Dokja fought the kneejerk reaction to slap himself across the mouth. What was that absolute word vomit he just spewed?! 

The stranger continued to stare at him expressionlessly, but his mouth was twitching now with what could almost be mistaken as amusement but more likely was realization that he was talking to a lunatic. He raised an eyebrow and peered into the bag that Dokja was still holding open. 

“You brought five liters of water for a one hour hike?” he intoned slowly. Dokja felt his face flush, bright and fast. 

“Half of it is for my friend!” he quickly explained, even though it was more like only a quarter of it was for Sooyoung. Except, why was he explaining? Why was he feeling so weirdly embarrassed in front of this guy?

The man gave a snort that somehow expressed disapproval, indifference, and scorn all at once. Without further response, he took a step back to readjust his own small pack. It was then that Dokja noticed he was wearing similar running gear as last time, with loose shorts and a black muscle t-shirt that once again had him fighting the urge to inappropriately stare. 

“If you’re fine, I’m leaving then,” the man said, beginning to turn. But before he could run off, Han Sooyoung appeared from the main road. 

“There you are!” she called with exasperation. “I’ve been looking all over– oh!” 

She stopped in her tracks and stared at the stranger with surprise that quickly morphed into what could only be described as amused distaste. “Yoo Joonghyuk? What the hell are you doing here?” 

“You two know each other?” Dokja stood up, eyes darting between them. 

“Han Sooyoung,” the guy, Yoo Joonghyuk apparently, said back as way of greeting with narrowed eyes, ignoring Dokja’s question entirely.

Okay, so they not only knew each other, but also had some sort of beef. Not that that was shocking for Han Sooyoung.

“Didn’t expect to see you out here,” Sooyoung smirked, crossing her arms as she approached them. “Deigned to grace your presence to the public, did you?” 

“I run this trail every weekend,” Yoo Joonghyuk retorted. “I’ve never seen you out here.”

“Well, even a genius writer needs to take her breaks, no?” she preened, giving a magnanimous hair flip. 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked nothing short of repulsed.

“Enjoy your hike then,” he responded curtly, ending the conversation as fast as it had started. He abruptly started up into a run and moved past the two of them without another look. 

“Don’t forget our recording session on Tuesday!” Sooyoung exclaimed to his back, seemingly out of no reason other than to irritate the other. 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s retreating figure gave no response and swiftly disappeared from view, which somehow was becoming a common sight. Strangely, Dokja felt a bit miffed that he didn’t even say bye to him.

“What was that all about?” he asked, as he zipped up his bag and shouldered it once again. 

“Yoo Joonghyuk’s doing the main voice for the Three Ways to Ascend game adaptation,” she explained as they stepped back onto the main road and restarted their walk. Immediately, Dokja was unfortunately reminded of the ridiculously large hill he’d been avoiding earlier, and wished he’d drank more of the water in the bag to get rid of the weight. 

“The director’s been having me sit in on some of the recording sessions so that they can incorporate the author’s creative input,” she continued haughtily. 

He rolled his eyes and if he weren’t trying to spare every molecule of oxygen he could get, he would’ve definitely made fun of her for referring to herself in third person again. 

“Needless to say, we aren’t the biggest fans of each other,” she snickered. “But it’s not my fault that man has the most horrendous, stale personality known to mankind. Seriously, talk about a waste of good looks.” 

While Dokja couldn’t tell if Yoo Joonghyuk was boring, he was certainly quite brusque and impatient even from their two extremely short interactions. On his appearance, well, that spoke for itself. 

“Didn’t know you were a fan though,” Sooyoung gave him an amused glance.  

“Huh?” He raised his brow. “I’m not. Is he an actor or something?” 

She looked at him properly now, confused. “You don’t know who he is?” 

“Should I?” 

Her face scrunched up in astonishment, before bursting out into a peal of laughter. “You work at a video game company and you don’t know who Yoo Joonghyuk is?!” 

He huffed, impatience piling up as he wanted her to just spit out why exactly he was supposed to know who the stranger was, especially since he was already tired and out of breath again. Seriously, how big exactly was this stretch of uphill and why did he bring so much water? 

“God, I wish he was here to hear this,” she grinned. “That’ll do his ego a solid.” 

“Just tell me who he is,” he voiced huffily. 

“For reasons known only to God, he is only the biggest esports streamer in the country,” she shook her head, still snorting. “He’s got like millions of subscribers. I seriously can’t believe you don’t know him.” 

Now that the big secret had been revealed, he only shrugged. Sure he worked in QA, but that didn’t mean he had much interest in the industry itself. He cared more about reading his web novels and watching the occasional TV show. 

“Wait,” Sooyoung waved her hands. “If you don’t know him, why were you talking to him?” 

He exhaled heavily, weary that he had to use breath to speak again. “He’s the guy from last time.” 

“What guy from last time?” 

“The guy who gave me his water.” 

She rounded on him. “Yoo Joonghyuk is the one who saved your life?”

He wrinkled his nose, freshly reminded at the moment exactly how rude the man was in person. “That’s a bit of a stretch.” 

“That’s exactly how you described it earlier!” she pointed out. 

“Anyway,” he shrugged. “That was him.” 

That sent her into another round of cackling, since the situation was apparently that hilarious to her. “Out of all the people in Seoul, you ran into fucking Yoo Joonghyuk at your most dire time of need.” 

“Okay, it was not that bad.” 

“Oh, this is too good,” she shook her head, ignoring his muttered protest. “Maybe that guy has some shred of human empathy in there after all, I guess. What a revelation.” 

They trudged on for another good twenty minutes, with Sooyoung taunting him the entire way about now owing a life debt to Yoo Joonghyuk, and Dokja struggling to catch his breath enough to defend himself. 

Finally, seeing that the hill had seemingly no end and was in fact, getting steeper he came to a stop.

He dropped the backpack at his feet and groaned. “How much farther does this go? Shouldn’t we be there at this point?” 

Sooyoung stopped next to him and looked up as well. “Oh yeah, we’re probably halfway.”

“What?” he nearly shouted. “I thought this would take a maximum of two hours!” 

“When I got to the viewpoint earlier, the tourists I met there said we were just short of halfway up. It’s probably because of how slow you’ve been walking.” 

Immediately, he bent down and dug through the bag, pulling out two of the still-full bottles and thrusting them into Sooyoung’s arms.

“I’m leaving,” he announced, hoisting the bag once again and turning around. “You can keep going if you want.” 

Unbothered by his spectacular defeat by this so-called easy hike, she just snickered, jogging to catch up with him. Going downhill and about five pounds lighter, he was much faster. 

“Alright, I’m starving anyway.” 

‎‧₊˚✧  3  ✧˚₊‧

Why was he here again? 

That was truly the question of the day. Of the year, even. 

Dokja glared up at the tower that rose imposingly from the hills above him. He’d always been pretty indifferent to Namsan, maybe had a passingly positive opinion considering it was arguably the most iconic landmark of his home city. 

But that had all changed after his two failed attempts of reaching this godforsaken spire. Whose idea had it been anyway, to build it on top of a mountain? 

Nevermind that it wasn’t the tower’s fault he had the physical capabilities of a malnourished Victorian child, or that he had gravely misjudged the amount of water needed both times he’d come. 

Today. He exhaled with determination, shouldering his backpack of exactly 1.5 liters of water, a tuna kimbap for fuel, and a portable charger. Today, I’m going to do it. 

Dokja had certainly not expected to find himself at the foothills of Namsan again, at least not so soon, after having gone through such an ordeal the last two attempts. In fact, he’d really like to just put the damned tower out of his mind completely, if possible. 

But alas, the world loved to taunt him and with his daily bus commute taking him from Chungmuro to Hannam before crossing the river, it afforded him rather despicably impressive views of the tower each morning. He’d rarely taken notice of it before, usually too absorbed on his phone to look out the windows much, but now it was as if the landmark served to laugh in his face each and every day, reminding him of how he’d pathetically failed to reach it, failed at a hike that probably every elementary aged schoolchild in Seoul has climbed at some point. 

Hell, Yoo Joonghyuk apparently ran the entire thing, every week, as if it were some relaxing jog. Although, now knowing more about the man, that couldn’t be entirely surprising considering the two of them seemed to be of completely different species. 

He could admit that after the run-in last time with Sooyoung, he’d gone home to look him up online out of pure curiosity. He may or may not have subsequently gone down a rabbit hole of Naver blogs, fanpages, and even watched one or two or ten of the man’s streams. 

And yeah, Sooyoung wasn’t far off with her description of his personality, but Dokja also found him oddly charming with the concentrated, tacit way he conducted his streams (well, perhaps not that odd considering he really did get millions of views). One thing that was obvious though was that the guy clearly paid attention to his physique, or else how else could he possibly look like that despite his job requiring him to sit in front of a computer almost as many hours as Dokja did. 

Shaking away distracting images of Yoo Joonghyuk’s many promotional photoshoots that he accidentally happened to stumble upon, Dokja narrowed his eyes once again at the daunting hike before him.

Anyway, this had nothing to do with Yoo Joonghyuk, and everything to do with the fact that he absolutely was not going to get bested by this overgrown hill. 

And so here he was, once again, this time properly prepared and determined to reach the top. Taking a deep breath, he began. 

As he climbed higher, once again slowly breaking away from the crowds and beginning to reach the empty parts of the trail, he found himself pleasantly surprised at the relative ease he was feeling in his muscles and lungs. He was feeling laboured, but in a way that felt more like a nice stretch rather than oh-my-god-kill-me-now. 

Perhaps all the recent activity and excitement was beginning to do him some good. 

With his body miraculously not screaming in agony with every step, Dokja found himself actually being able to take in his surroundings for once. 

Alone on the trail, there was little sound outside his own quick breaths and the occasional crunch of a leaf below his footfall. Deep now in the trees, he could no longer see the tower above but rather only emerald canopy and the late morning sunlight that streamed in through the gaps, lighting everything around him in a pale, pale willow. Inhaling, he allowed himself a little smile. 

This really was quite nice. 

He was also more careful this time following the signs that demarcated the trail leading to the tower and thus, an hour later, he could tell he was nearing the top as the trees began to thin slightly. 

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, he quickened his pace. He was really going to do it this time! Sooyoung was going to–

A thin, frail sounding meow broke through the silence, halting Dokja in his steps. He looked around, but saw nothing nearby. He frowned, wondering if he had misheard.

He took a step forward. 

“Meow.” 

This time he was sure he had heard a cat. 

He slowed to a stop again, peering around closer. Then suddenly, he spotted tufts of white fur beneath the shrubs on the trail side. 

He crouched down, and caught sight of large, dark eyes peering out at him from beneath the leaves. 

The cat let out another, rather pitiful sounding meow, as if acknowledging that Dokja had found it. He carefully crept closer to where it lay, its fluffy white tail flicking as he approached. 

“What are you doing just sitting here?” he asked softly. 

It stared at him, soundless now. It was a beautiful cat, its fur much longer and softer looking than most strays around the city. Astoundingly, it seemed to be entirely white save for tawny colouring around its ears, and remarkably clean as well. Perhaps it had somehow gotten away from its home? 

He reached out slowly with caution. When the cat showed no signs of clawing him, only watching him with slight curiosity, he lightly combed down the fur of its head. It was as soft as it had looked.  

It let out a little purr, satisfied. 

“Aren’t you a precious one?” he murmured, smiling. Looking around and seeing nobody nearby just as before, he dug into the fur slightly to look for a collar. 

Finding none, he frowned. “Where did you run off from?” 

It meowed, answering unhelpfully. Well, perhaps it was just a particularly pretty-looking stray after all. 

He continued to pet it thoughtfully, wondering if he should just leave it where it was, when suddenly, as he grazed its hind leg, it jolted and hissed. He jumped back at the sudden unsheathing of claws, pulling away his hand. 

It scrambled, as if making to get up and hide away deeper in the bushes, but stumbled down once again. 

“Oh,” he gasped, realization quickly dawning. “You’re hurt!” 

He hadn’t noticed before when it was just laying there, but it was clearly keeping weight off of one of its back legs. 

There was no way he could leave it alone here, not even able to walk by itself. But as he moved forward again in an attempt to pick it up, it hissed again, distrustful now that it’d been pained. 

“Okay, okay!” he retreated reluctantly. As the cat stared at him, wary, he wracked his brain for a solution. 

He properly sat down a safe distance away, not caring about the dirt dusting his shorts, and pulled out the kimbap from his bag. 

“How long have you been sitting alone here? You must be hungry, right?” 

It watched curiously as he unwrapped the roll, and deconstructed the first slice. Picking out only the tuna, he carefully tossed it within easy reaching distance of the animal, not wanting to risk his fingers again quite yet. 

It sniffed the offering carefully, then predictably began devouring it with relish. Not wanting to waste the food, Dokja ate the ravaged remains of the rice and pickled vegetables. 

He repeated this until he only had half the roll left, when he heard fast approaching steps. A sense of deja vu came over him. 

And so somehow, when he looked up to see Yoo Joonghyuk running up from the trail dressed in his uniform of black, he wasn’t surprised at all. 

“Hello Yoo Joonghyuk!” he called, giving a cheeky wave. 

The man came to a stop in front of him, staring down in what was soon becoming a familiar look of disapproval and impatience. 

“How do you know my name?” 

“Sooyoung used it last time.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eye twitched, as if being reminded of the interaction triggered him all over again. 

“I suppose it is a bit unfair that I know your name and you don’t know mine,” Dokja said with a smile. “I’m Kim Dokja.” 

“Kim Dokja,” he repeated. 

He nodded. “I never got to properly thank you for the water the first time, so, um, thanks!” 

Ignoring his stammered gratitude, Yoo Joonghyuk only glowered, taking in his open knapsack, half-eaten kimbap, and current sitting position of being cross-legged smack dab in the middle of the trail. 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. 

“Well, you see, obviously I was in the middle of a hike when I–”

“Also, why are you eating that disgusting food?” 

Dokja’s mouth gaped open. “Wh-what?! What’s wrong with kimbap?”

“That’s supposed to be kimbap?” 

“It’s from the CU, there’s nothing wrong with it!” 

If possible, Yoo Joonghyuk’s face darkened further. 

“What are you, some kind of kimbap purist?” Dokja cried. “Also I’m not really the one eating it– okay well I am sort of eating part of it– but I’m mostly feeding it to this little guy here.” 

He pointed at the cat cowering below the bushes. It had slowly been relaxing again with each little bit of tuna devoured, but with the arrival of Yoo Joonghyuk’s thundering voice it was once again tensed up and flickering its ears with alarm. 

“Also would you pipe down, you’re scaring it,” Dokja hissed. 

While he continued to look like someone had shit in his soup, this thankfully ended the man’s bizarre tirade against his perfectly good kimbap. Yoo Joonghyuk dropped down beside him to peer at the creature. 

“What’s wrong with it?” 

Dokja raised his brows, surprised he could tell immediately that something was off with the cat. 

“I think it’s hind leg there is hurt,” he pointed. “I don’t think it can walk. I wanted to take it to a vet but it got spooked earlier when I tried to pick it up so I’ve just been trying to calm it down.”

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, face scrunched slightly now in consideration. Without a word, he quickly stripped himself of the light shell jacket he was wearing.

Stunned by the sudden reveal of his tanned, bare arms and extremely tight tank top beneath, Dokja gulped.

“Wh–what are you doing?” 

The other man shot him a glare. “Just do what I say.” Dazed, Dokja just nodded. 

Yoo Joonghyuk gradually crept closer to the cat, and while it watched him with suspicion, it didn’t seem as if it would try to bolt in alarm. 

“Give me a piece of tuna.”

Biting back a retort about how he’d called it disgusting not even five minutes prior, Dokja silently complied. 

Yoo Joonghyuk slowly offered it out with his fingertips, and after a careful sniff, the cat began to nibble at it with energy. Now in position right beneath the bush, he scooped up the cat in one swift, careful movement, bundling up the body and more importantly, the claws, beneath his jacket. 

It yowled and struggled at the sudden capture, but Yoo Joonghyuk secured it in his arms, mindful not to put any pressure on the injured leg. 

He began softly rocking and patting it, hilariously as if it were a human baby, and Dokja would’ve laughed at the sight if not for the fact that it actually astoundingly seemed to work. The cat began to quiet, as if realizing it was subdued but safe. 

“What the hell?” he muttered. “Are you some kind of cat whisperer?” 

Yoo Joonghyuk shot him a withering look and began to go back down the way he came from earlier, an obedient cat in hand. “Come on.” 

Hurriedly, Dokja grabbed his stuff and jogged after him. “Where are we going?”

“I thought you were taking her to the vet.” 

“Oh, right.” He paused. “Her?” 

“It’s a girl.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I saw,” Yoo Joonghyuk replied as if that should be obvious. 

“In that half a second before you got her wrapped up you saw?” 

“I’ve had cats before,” he explained, exasperated. 

“Wow,” Dokja grinned. “Pro video gamer and dedicated cat dad. Who knew?”

That earned him another piercing glare. 

They made the rest of the walk in quiet, with Yoo Joonghyuk giving the cat the occasional murmur beneath his breath when she seemed to get restless in his arms. As they neared the trailhead, they made a turn that Dokja wasn’t familiar with. 

The path led them to a parking lot, where Yoo Joonghyuk came to a stop. He twisted his back towards Dokja.

“Take my car keys out of the side pocket,” he gestured backwards at the running pack. 

Dokja did as told, then the two carefully exchanged hands, keys to Yoo Joonghyuk and the cat landing into Dokja’s arms. She began to struggle again anew and so he just tried to copy the other man’s movements from earlier, trying to relax her.

“Pinch the nape of her neck a bit, she’ll calm down,” Yoo Joonghyuk explained as they moved towards his car. 

Miraculously, that did the trick. They slid into the vehicle and Dokja couldn’t help but let out a low, impressed whistle at the sleek leather and chrome. Well, it was quite clear that the biggest streamer in South Korea was not short at all on money. 

As Yoo Joonghyuk put in the coordinates for the closest veterinary hospital and began to drive, the luxurious car as silent as it was smooth, the absurdity of the entire situation suddenly hit Dokja. 

He was sitting in the fanciest car he’d ever touched in his life, with a random stray cat that he’d found on Namsan in his arms, getting chauffeured by the most famous esports player in the country, whom he’d happened to meet while nearly dying from heatstroke. 

What the hell. 

Sneaking a glance over at said esports player, the man looked as stoic and neutral as usual, as if this was just some normal weekend activity for him. Well, who knows, maybe it was. Maybe he was an ordinary do-gooder, saving stray cats and feeble QA workers on the regular. 

After reaching the hospital, they quickly handed the cat off to the staff to be treated, while the two settled down in the waiting room. 

Dokja winced as he looked at the ruined jacket that the staff had returned to Yoo Joonghyuk. Although she hadn’t fought for long, the creature had nevertheless managed to do quite the number on it with her claws, some of the fabric coming off in strips.

“Sorry about your jacket,” he said sheepishly. 

Yoo Joonghyuk just shrugged and tossed it in the chair next to him. “It’s fine.” 

While it really probably wasn’t a big deal to him, Dokja still felt bad. 

“So you really run the trail every week?” he asked, changing the subject. 

Yoo Joonghyuk hummed a yes. 

Dokja chuckled. “Wow. Then there’s me, I haven’t even successfully climbed to the tower once.” 

The other man looked at him in disbelief. 

“Well,” Dokja considered, “I almost definitely would’ve made it today actually. But then, you know, I happened across the cat.” 

“I alone have seen you there three times. And you haven’t gotten to the top even once?” 

“You saw what state I was in the first couple times!” he protested. “And I just said, I almost made it today!” 

Defensive at the depreciative look being aimed at him, he rambled onwards. “Look, not everyone can be like this okay!” he gestured vaguely at Yoo Joonghyuk’s entire body. 

“I’ll have you know I work an extremely grueling, stressful, and underpaid office job! I barely have time to eat most days!” Nevermind that he certainly did not dedicate the free time he did have to any sort of physical exercise. 

“Yeah and now I’ve also seen what you apparently have when you do choose to eat,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, raising an eyebrow. “Not exactly helpful to your case I would imagine.”

Dokja waffled. “You’re awfully judgemental for someone who barely knows me!”

“Seems I know enough already,” he snorted, crossing his arms. 

And okay, that was really unfair. Because how was he supposed to think of any coherent argument with his biceps just in his face like that. 

They bickered back and forth for a good half an hour, before the vet thankfully returned back to the lobby with a pet carrier in hand. 

“She’s all patched up!” the kind woman gestured at the kitty that was now sitting docilely in the cage, blinking up at them with big, placid eyes. “It seemed she had gotten quite a nasty fracture. I’ve put her in a cast and you’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t move around too much at home, otherwise she should be as good as new in a couple of weeks. We can book a follow-up appointment for next month to make sure everything’s healed properly.” 

“Oh, uh,” Dokja scratched his neck. “We just found her on a trail, we’re not actually her owners.” 

“Oh! Well, unfortunately she also doesn’t seem to be chipped so she’s likely just a stray” The doctor gave an apologetic look. “Did you want to keep her? If not, we’ll have to send her off to a shelter.” 

Dokja frowned down at the cat, still looking up at him with doe eyes that twisted at his heart. “I– I’d like to but… I don’t think my landlord allows pets…”

“I’ll take care of her for the time being,” Yoo Joonghyuk spoke up, reaching to take the carrier from the vet. Dokja looked at him in surprise. 

The doctor nodded and smiled. “Great, in that case I’ll have you sign some forms and make the follow-up appointment.” 

Dokja hovered awkwardly as Yoo Joonghyuk completed the paperwork, feeling more guilty with every passing minute at this sudden responsibility that had been thrust upon the other man. When they returned to the car, Dokja turned to him as he was carefully placing the carrier into the backseat. 

“You don’t have to take her in, you know?” he quickly said. “I’m the one who found her and it’s such a big responsibility. Maybe I can persuade my landlord or–”

“What’s her name?” 

“Huh?” 

“What do you want to name her?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, looking at him meaningfully. 

“E–eh?” 

“Like you said, you found her,” Yoo Joonghyuk sighed as if explaining this all was tedious. “So hurry up and decide on a name.” 

“Oh–um,” Dokja wracked his brain, slightly bewildered. “I guess, maybe, Biyoo? That’s a pretty cute name right?” 

“Okay,” he said. And as if that was that, he started up the car. 

“Are you really okay with taking care of her?” Dokja fidgeted nervously, still unsettled. 

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk gritted, and Dokja startled at the sound of his name coming out of the other man’s mouth for the first time. “Stop saying useless things. I told you I’ve had cats before so I already have a lot of the necessary supplies at home, alright?” 

“Alright,” he said, quietening. Then, “Thank you.”

Yoo Joonghyuk just pulled his car out of the parking lot, heading back in the direction that they’d come from. “My sister likes cats anyway,” he muttered after a silent few minutes. 

Dokja chuckled at this. “That makes me feel better. But at least let me contribute to food and vet bills, okay?”  

After a moment of consideration, Yoo Joonghyuk took one hand off the wheel to toss his phone at Kim Dokja. 

“Your number, then.” 

“Uh?” 

“I’ll have to contact you if that’s the case, no?” 

“Oh, right,” Dokja answered stupidly, looking down at the phone in his hands. He navigated to add a new contact. 

Something like butterflies swarmed inside him. God, hiking really did make him sick. 

‎‧₊˚✧  4  ✧˚₊‧

Two weeks. 

It’d been two weeks since Yoo Joonghyuk had taken in Biyoo and it had been absolute radio silence. Hell, the guy hadn’t even texted him so that he would have his contact information as well. Dokja cursed himself for not texting himself on the spot so that he’d at least have Yoo Joonghyuk’s number stored. 

Not that he particularly wanted to be in correspondence with that judgy, rude bastard, but at the very least shouldn’t he be giving some sort of update on Biyoo? They’d rescued her together after all. 

And the lack of communication definitely wasn’t because some horrible illness or emergency had befallen Yoo Joonghyuk, because the man had been streaming everyday as normal, not a single strand out of place on his stupidly thick, wavy, perfect hair. Dokja had definitely not been checking his page every day, it just happened to pop up all the time now because his algorithm was doing that annoying thing where once you’ve searched for something one time, it’ll keep recommending it to you no matter how many times you swipe away. 

So that’s why, out of pure irritation and restlessness, he once again found himself at the trailhead that he was now extremely well acquainted with. 

It wasn’t that he was hoping to bump into Yoo Joonghyuk again to give him a piece of his mind, that wasn’t it at all. 

No, he just needed a little distraction from the fact that his phone was staying infuriatingly silent and being on his phone attempting to read novels wasn’t doing its usual job of capturing his attention. Plus, he still had unfinished business with Namsan, a vendetta one would even call, with this stupid hill and this stupid tower. 

Today, he was actually going to do it. 

However as he walked, he somehow felt more restless the further into the trail he got. The climb was feeling more effortless than ever with his lightened pack, the late summer temperature had finally cooled into perfect hiking weather, and yet, he couldn’t quite capture the same sense of peace and ease that he’d felt from the previous attempt. 

He kept looking around every corner, behind his back even, looking for something. Or someone. 

Every time he heard a runner approaching, his attention piqued, only for him to almost slump in disappointment once he realized it was just some random stranger passing by. 

Not even halfway up, Dokja came to a sudden stop at the realization of what he was doing.

He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. 

However, before he could stew any further in his own self-loathing his phone began to ring. Breathless, he scrambled to pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Ah, good, you picked up! Hello, Dokja, I’m not interrupting anything am I?” 

Dokja’s heart sank at the all too familiar, pitchy sound of his manager’s voice.

“No manager-nim, of course not,” he intoned automatically. 

“Thank goodness! Could you get to the office as soon as possible please, there’s been an emergency.” 

Dokja bolted upright. “Right now? It’s Sunday.” 

“Yes, I’m aware, and I apologize for calling you in on the weekend,” he replied, not sounding very apologetic at all. “You know I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t truly dire. The new patch of WOS is meant to go out tonight at midnight but we’ve just found a major bug and we need at least one of the QA leads here to test the fixes.” 

Dokja bit back a snapping question of why he’d called him then, instead one of the other five leads in the department. 

Running a hand down his face, he suppressed a sigh. “Of course, manager-nim, I’ll be right there. I’m not at home right now though so just give me about an hour and a half and I can get to the office.” 

“Great! I knew I could count on you, Dokja.”

Before Dokja could get even another word in, his manager had hung up. 

Readjusting his pack with resignation, he turned around. There went his plans of finally conquering the hike today. It’s not as if he was enjoying himself all that much anyway, so it was fine, he supposed. 

Hopefully, they would at least pay overtime for this. He doubted it though.

Just as he was about to make the trek down, his phone pinged. Tiredly, he fished it back out from his pocket, expecting to see some sort of follow up text from his manager briefing him on the bug. 

Instead, his eyes bulged out with surprise, nearly dropping his phone in his hurry to swipe open the text notification. 

010-1864-4951

>> This is Yoo Joonghyuk

>> [image attachment]

The photo was of Biyoo, adorably lying on her back with her belly outstretched, looking perfectly content and satisfied. A hand, presumably Yoo Joonghyuk’s with how large and artfully veiny it was, was outstretched from above to scratch her plush underside. If not for the small cast still bandaged around her hind leg, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that she was injured at all. 

Dokja suppressed a smile. Only because Biyoo was too ridiculously cute. Just as he was about to type a response, yet another message quickly popped in. 

>> Biyoo is doing well

The pending dots appeared, indicating that Yoo Joonghyuk was typing again. But after a few moments, they disappeared again. Biting his lip, Dokja quickly typed out a reply. 

i’m glad <<

i got worried for a bit there that you’d pulled a disappearing dad act on me <<

>> If I’m the dad, what does that make you?

Dokja nearly threw his phone into the bushes. He cursed Yoo Joonghyuk out under his breath and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. 

Doggedly, he began to make his way down. There was no time to entertain the bastard anyway, his boss would surely chew him out if he didn’t get into the office within the hour and a half limit he’d set for himself.

Unfortunately, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t seem to have any plans of letting him off, his phone pinging a few more times before he finally pulled it back out with more force than necessary. 

>> That also doesn’t make any sense, considering I’m the one with custody

>> Anyway, have you made it to the top of Namsan yet? 

first of all, hilarious, didn’t know you were physically capable of cracking a joke <<

second of all, that’s none of your business, but for your information no i haven’t <<

 i don’t exactly have the time on my hands to go gallavanting around a mountain every week u know << 

some of us are corporate slaves who work full time jobs <<

>> We can go together next time.

>> I’ll carry the water. 

Dokja nearly combusted on the spot and may or may not have let out a little scream that frightened off an entire flock of passing ahjummas climbing up from the trailhead. 

that’s not a bad offer <<

but only if u let me see my daughter first <<

‎‧₊˚✧  5  ✧˚₊‧

“Are you sure this is safe?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I don’t know, maybe because the sun is beginning to set?! Aren’t you not supposed to hike after dark? Like isn’t that Hiking 101?”

“I didn’t know you were such a hiking expert.” 

“I have some common sense, you know.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk snorted from where he was waiting on the top of a slope, arms crossed. His expression is somehow equal parts nonplussed and mocking, as if he didn’t quite believe that statement. 

“Shut up,” Dokja muttered, despite the taller man not having said a thing at all. 

“Just hurry up. If you were faster, we could get to the top well before it got dark.” 

That only made him intentionally drop his pace even slower. But to his surprise, there was no additional snarky comment from Yoo Joonghyuk. He only waited in slightly resigned silence as Dokja trudged his way up to where he had been waiting, and fell into step as they began to climb side by side. 

Despite his (not unwarranted!) concerns about the falling dusk, Dokja had to admit this was by far the most pleasant hiking experience he’d had in his recent repertoire of failed Namsan attempts. The early evening lended itself to a perfectly balmy breeze and minimal crowds. The sinking sunlight was effused in soft oranges and pinks, basking the entirety of the forest in an almost magical twilight.

And by his side, Yoo Joonghyuk provided a strangely solid, yet meditative presence, and Dokja found each step upward falling more like a steady rhythm rather than the torturous labour he’d felt previously. 

“So, you live with your sister right?” Dokja asked conversationally, having noticed framed photos of a young, dark-haired girl when he had dropped by Joonghyuk’s surprisingly modest apartment earlier with treats for Biyoo. He would’ve liked to stay longer and (totally not creepily) snooped around a bit more, but Joonghyuk had been rather insistent they get on the trail. 

Yoo Joonghyuk gave a small nod in response. 

“Do your parents live far away or something?” 

“No,” the other grunted, tone gruff enough for Dokja to immediately understand that it was probably a sensitive topic. He could relate. 

“She probably thinks her big brother has the coolest job in the world, huh?” 

This pulled a small corner up of Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips. “Mia gets frustrated when I have to stream for long hours.” 

His dark eyes softened as he spoke, the fading daylight reflecting soft lavender in them for just a moment. It looked like he was conjuring some memory of his baby sister’s tantrums. “So, I doubt it.” 

“I have these two kids in my complex that I look after sometimes because their parents are often away for business. Real handful they are, always getting into it with each other, it drives me up the walls. “But,” Dokja chuckled, “when the other isn’t around, they always bring each other up. Like they miss each other, but don’t want to admit it.” 

Dokja could feel Joonghyuk’s curious gaze on him as they continued to walk, and couldn’t help the warmth that rose to his cheeks from the attention. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, kids can be weirdly embarrassed about showing affection. She probably gets mad at you to your face, but when she’s at school, brags that her brother is the Supreme King.” He threw him a teasing smile. 

The other man gave a scrunch of his nose, and it was infuriatingly adorable in a way that shouldn’t even be possible on someone like Yoo Joonghyuk. 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Did you not choose that username yourself?” 

“I was 17,” Yoo Joonghyuk huffed, and frowned almost poutily. 

It wasn’t even that funny, but Kim Dokja couldn’t help but burst into delighted laughter. Even Yoo Joonghyuk had to suffer the unforeseen consequences of one’s edgy teenage years it seemed.

“I guess it’s too late to change your branding now,” Dokja snorted. 

Yoo Joonghyuk only sighed in annoyance before looking out at the sunset. The clouds had shifted now to a deep, brilliant ruby. For a beat, the scuffing of dirt beneath their soles was all that could be heard. 

“I only started streaming because of Mia,” he admitted after a moment, voice gone quiet. “Part-time jobs weren’t paying enough, and I wanted to save up so that once I moved out for university, she could come with me too.” 

Dokja bit his lip, feeling a lurch in his chest. “You’re a good brother,” he replied, sincere. He couldn’t even imagine the enormity of responsibility and burden being an 18-year-old university student caring for a barely preschool-aged toddler alone. 

Yoo Joonghyuk turned his eyes back to the trail, expression serene. “It’s just what was necessary.” 

As they continued to hike in comfortable silence, a familiar ache twinged from his center. Ridiculously, he felt something akin to envy that Mia had an older brother like Yoo Joonghyuk to shield her from the worst parts of the world. Feeling more than a little stupid, Dokja shook the thought from his mind. 

The sun was truly well on its way to dipping below the horizon now, and the light was only barely enough to see the trail by. However, Yoo Joonghyuk seemed unconcerned and Dokja was fairly certain they were nearing the top. 

But to his dismay, the slope began to gradually, but surely, become steep once more. As the minutes ticked by, he tried to remain unaffected but his breath was hitching up in a way that Joonghyuk’s definitely wasn’t. 

“Let’s take a break,” Yoo Joonghyuk spoke up, nodding to an approaching bench off the side of the trail. 

“No, let’s keep going,” Dokja replied stubbornly, dragging his feet forward. A trickle of sweat fell into his eye, stinging. Cursing, he stopped to rub his eye out furiously. 

Ignoring his refusal, Joonghyuk only walked ahead of him and pulled off his running pack to set onto the bench. Wordlessly, he pulled out a bottle of water to hand to Dokja. 

Admittedly feeling parched, he begrudgingly snatched the bottle and downed half of it in one go. He surfaced from the deep gulps with a satisfied gasp. 

He glared up at the pro gamer, all the while failing spectacularly at masking his laboured wheezing. “Are we almost there yet? It’s actually going to be pitch black soon.” He raised the bottle back to his lips for another sip. 

“I can carry you if you need.” 

Kim Dokja spluttered, choking on the water. A wildfire of heat blazed across his face at the audacity. “No, I don’t need to be carried by you– hey! Wh-what are you–”

Yoo Joonghyuk had stepped toward him with an impassive expression, strides long and decisive. Dokja reeled back in panic – he was decidedly not mentally prepared yet for Yoo Joonghyuk to manhandle him as there would be a very real chance of him throwing up out of anxiety all over that stupidly plush chest. 

“Don’t you dare–”

“Stop being a fool, you’ve got water all ov–”

“What are you grabbing at!” 

“I’m just–”

“Sto– AHH!” 

“Kim Dokja!” 

—

“Alright, now I’d advise that you keep it wrapped for the next couple days and ice it for twenty minutes at least 3 times a day. Also, try to keep your walking and movement to a minimum at least until the swelling goes down.”

The nurse listed off her instructions as she fastened the end of the dressing. 

“Got it,” Dokja muttered, staring off at a speck of dust on his lap. Looming nearby like some vengeful spirit, Dokja could feel Yoo Joonghyuk’s glare from where he was leaning against the wall. 

“Be more careful next time,” she chided, straightening up from his ankle. “Maybe don’t go hiking after dark, or at least bring a good flashlight with you next time.”

“Yeah, I won’t,” Dokja turned his stare at Yoo Joonghyuk, the other man still glowering at him as if any of this was his fault. 

Yoo Joonghyuk just clenched his jaw. “It wouldn’t have been dark had you not been walking so slow.” 

“If you think I was able to go any faster, you’ve severely overestimated me!” 

“Or if you just let me carr–” 

“That was not going to happen.”

The nurse’s eyes darted between the two of them with a look of faint amusement. “I’m just going to go. Come back in if there are any complications.” 

After she made her exit, Yoo Joonghyuk pushed off the wall towards him. “You’re just upset that I had to carry you down the mountain anyway.” 

Dokja’s cheeks were immediately engulfed in flames. “Yeah, and whose fault was that?” 

“Yours.” 

“You fucking–”

Eventually, they made their way out of the clinic, Dokja hobbling along with one hand begrudgingly clutched onto Joonghyuk’s arm for lack of any other support. He’d even asked for crutches, to avoid this exact scenario, but the nurse had only snorted in his face and said it’s just a sprain. 

He very deliberately ignored the warm hand steadying him at the waist. 

“At least we still got a view of the tower, huh?” Dokja joked, nodding up towards the brightly lit lights of Namsan above them. After leaving the trail, Yoo Joonghyuk had pulled into the first clinic they’d seen. Luckily it hadn’t been far, sitting just a block away from the base of the mountain. 

Yoo Joonghyuk stayed quiet, continuing to carefully guide him towards the passenger side of his car. Just as they were opening the door, a faint whistling noise rose in the air that made Dokja look up once more. Less than a second later, a brilliant shower of green bloomed across the sky, glittering perfectly above the shining landmark. 

He gasped. “Hey, look!”

Yoo Joonghyuk followed his gaze, as another firework quickly followed, this time bursting into gold. Then came red, purple, and a blazing, deep blue. 

“Fireworks,” Dokja murmured dreamily. “I haven’t seen them in so long.” 

The other man hummed next to him, chest rumbling. They stood there and watched in companionable silence for a long stretch, Dokja mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of explosions that seemed to go on endlessly. 

When the sky finally stilled, Namsan fell back into a quiet night with only a faint scent of smoke lingering in the air. Dokja turned to Yoo Joongyhuk with a small smile. 

“Too bad we weren’t at the top for that. That would’ve been kind of cool, huh?” 

The gamer only gruffly nudged him toward the open door. “Hurry up, it’s getting late.” 

“Spoilsport.” But somehow, even long after he arrived home, the smile never left Kim Dokja’s lips. 

Chapter Text

‎‧₊˚✧  +1  ✧˚₊‧

Dokja was peering into his fridge half-heartedly, wondering what he could possibly cobble together for dinner with nothing but a slightly wilted head of lettuce and possibly expired ham. He leaned against the door to keep the weight off his left foot. Although a week had passed and he was mostly walking normally again, there was still slight soreness each time he applied pressure on the ankle. 

He closed the fridge with a sigh. Originally, he and Sooyoung had been planning to meet for dinner tonight but she had cancelled suspiciously out of the blue, citing the current downpour outside as a hindrance. However, he had a sneaking inkling that she may have finally made progress with her mystery crush. 

Oh well, he’d wheedle the details out of her later. 

In the meantime, it seemed he’d need to find solace in his old, ever-reliable friend Chapa–

Just as he’d been preparing to pull his pack of jjajangmyeon from the cupboard, three sharp knocks rang from the front door. Dokja looked over his shoulder, frowning. 

Three more impatient knocks came as he was walking over, slower than normal from the limp. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he complained loudly. “Han Sooyoung, I swear to God if you came crawling back because you got stood up– oh.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk stood at his doorstep, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he’d just stepped out from an unimaginative apocalyptic power-scaling novel. He was clad in a long, black coat and clutching a dark umbrella to protect from the light drizzle that was still coming down. 

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?” 

The two of them had exchanged scant messages since his injury, with Yoo Joonghyuk only occasionally checking in to make sure he was still alive, presumably. Dokja had also attempted to send him funny memes he came across, like the generous friend he was, but those had all been left on read. 

Frankly, Dokja figured he probably wasn’t really going to see the other man anymore, now that he’d finally accepted the fact that climbing Namsan just wasn’t going to happen for him. Clearly, the mountain had put some sort of curse against him. 

“Put on a coat and let’s go.” 

“Huh?”

“Hurry up.” Yoo Joonghyuk was already beginning to angle away, impatient to get a move on. 

“Wh– hold up!” Dokja scrambled as he grabbed his jacket from the hook and locked the door behind him. “What do you mean, let’s go?” 

“It means let’s go.” 

“Why should I go just because you randomly show up and tell me to?” Nevermind that he was already halfway down the hallway, a step behind the pro gamer. “What if I was busy?” 

“Were you?”

“... No.” 

Despite Yoo Joonghyuk’s impatient tone, he kept his strides measured, mindful of Dokja’s hindered pace. Down in the parking lot, he kept a watchful eye as the begrudging invalid struggled into the passenger seat. 

“Are you at least going to do the courtesy of telling me where I’m being kidnapped to?” Dokja asked as he watched his apartment complex disappear around the corner. 

“Somewhere you haven’t been before.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Yoo Joonghyuk provided no further explanation but soon, Dokja didn’t need one as the route began to look more than a little familiar. How could it not, with him visiting the quickly approaching mountain not once, not twice, not even three times, but five over the course of the last few months.

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“What?”

“What have I done for you to hate me this much?”

“Kim Dokja—“

“You shouldn’t bully us common folk this way, you know. What if your fans found out what sort of masochist you were?”

“What are—“

“Oh, well now that I think about it, some of them might like that sort of thing, I guess.”

“What in the fresh hell are you going on about, Kim Dokja?”

Kim Dokja whirled on his terrible kidnapper with a nearly hysterical expression. 

“Well, what other reason could explain why you’re forcing me to go to Namsan again, other than you hating me? It's almost night time again! You weren’t happy enough with my sprained ankle, were you – have you come so that I can fall off a cliff and break my other leg too?”

Yoo Joonghyuk took his eyes off the road for just a moment to meet Dokja’s gaze before focusing his attention back. The other man’s face flickered with an uncharacteristically emotive reaction, a mixture of amusement and something almost like guilt. 

“Kim Dokja, you’re an idiot.” 

“Yes, yes I am. For getting in the car with you,” sighed Dokja, collapsing back into the seat to stare out the window as the trees outside grew thicker. “You know I actually can’t hike in this condition, right?” 

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t deign to answer, leaving Dokja to genuinely wonder what it was the other man was expecting him to do. Maybe he should be, in some twisted way, flattered that Joonghyuk had such high opinion of his physical and mental fortitude that he’d think he’d be in any shape to attempt the hike again so soon? 

Just as he was pondering over this, he realized that they had sped right past the familiar entrance of the trailhead parking lot. Instead, the car followed the curve of the road upwards, the path usually taken only by the tourist vans during the day. 

“Hey, you missed the trailhead,” Dokja pointed behind them.

“I thought you were afraid of breaking your leg?” Yoo Joonghyuk lifted an eyebrow. 

Dokja glared. “Obviously I was exaggerating. There aren’t even any cliffs on Namsan.” 

“So you want to hike now?” 

“Ye— no!” He frowned, eyebrows pinching. “Just tell me what we’re doing.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk gave a long, drawn-out sigh, as if he were the victim in all this. “You’ll know in just a few minutes.”

Dokja fell into a sullen silence, mostly because he’d just about halfway figured it out suddenly, he just couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it yet. But as it stood, there was really only one place this sloping, mountain road led to. 

His (rather obvious) prediction came true less than ten minutes later, as the brightly lit tower emerged from the treetops like a beacon in the quickly falling dusk. When Yoo Joonghyuk pulled into a parking space, the place was nearly deserted, the crowds probably cleared out by the torrential rain from earlier.  

However, as Joonghyuk came to the passenger side to help him out, Dokja realized the storm must have petered out at some point on their way there. Seeing no need for it, Joonghyuk left the umbrella he’d carried earlier in the backseat. 

Without a word, Dokja looked around. An irritating, fluttering sense of anticipation was beginning to form in his stomach that he desperately tried to keep at bay. 

“So—”

“Come on,” Yoo Joonghyuk nodded ahead of them. “There’s an elevator that can take us to the viewpoint.” 

Biting his lip, he hesitantly took Yoo Joonghyuk’s offered arm, slipping a hand gingerly into the crook of the other’s elbow. They slowly made their way to the lift. 

Inside the gleaming interior, Dokja snuck a peek at the gamer, who was only looking forward with his usual stoic expression. However, there was a soft set around his mouth, and a subtle, expectant look in his eyes. Unconsciously, Dokja felt his fingers tighten just so where they sat against the rough fabric of Joonghyuk’s coat. 

The elevator pinged with a tinkling melody as the doors slid back open. 

A second later, he found himself awash in glowing, buttery rouge-pinks. 

He stepped out. “This is…” 

Dokja found that he had no words to describe the sight before them. 

The storm had moved southwards, leaving behind nothing but scattered cirrus clouds that streaked towards the sinking sun, like arrows guiding the path for the fiery star. Cleared of all remnants of the downpour, the sky was unfalteringly flushed with the colors of sunset. Blazing crimson at the horizon, blending into gradients of brilliant tangerine, blushing fuchsia, and finally deep, velvet violets. And behind them, casting a long, imperious shadow across the hills of northeast Seoul, was that godforsaken iconic landmark he’d never been able to see up close until now. 

At some point without him realizing it, Yoo Joonghyuk had gently pulled him to the railing. To their left, was the infamous bridge, the fencing of which was laden down heavily with locks of every shape, size, and colour. If it weren’t for the weather today, Dokja imagined it would be milling with couples right now. 

At this thought, he blinked up at the man to his right. His hand was still snugly on his elbow. 

This time, Yoo Joonghyuk looked back at him, eyes reflecting wondrous daylight. 

“I thought you’d like to see the view, at least once.” 

The fluttering in Dokja’s stomach burst into a thousand sparklers and a smile grew across his lips, unbidden. 

“What am I supposed to take this to mean, Yoo Joonghyuk?” He fought to keep the waver out of his voice. 

“What do you think?” 

“That you gave up on me hiking to the top on my own?” 

“I can’t say I’m filled with confidence.” 

“I’m terribly hurt, Yoo Joonghyuk.” 

“Just admit you’re bad at hiking.” Was it his imagination, or was Yoo Joonghyuk leaning closer? 

“I will admit no such thing. I just have bad luck.” 

“Well, it can’t be that bad.” 

“What’s that suppos–”

“Kim Dokja.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

“Wh—mmph.” 

Lips warmer than sunset, hands firmer than Namsan itself met his skin. 

It wasn’t so bad to step outside to touch grass—once in a while—was the last thing that Dokja thought before he was enveloped in light.