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Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk's hole has been stuffed full for what feels like hours. His rim is a swollen puffy red, shiny with lube and drawn tight around the girth of Kim Dokja's fat cock. 

It twitches, every now and then, kissing the hot flesh inside it with every flutter. A warm, wet sheath intent on keeping his companion nice and cosy, suckling on the length despite Yoo Joonghyuk's intent to stay still. His hips twitch in tiny circles, his discipline completely shattered.

He's resting in Kim Dokja's lap, his tanned thighs clenching Kim Dokja’s waist and his scarred arms wrapped tightly around thin shoulders, mouthing desperately at his lover's neck. His cock is trapped, sticky and half hard between them, gossamer strands of pre trailing from his sensitive tip and pooling down his companion’s flinching abdomen.

One of Kim Dokja's pale hands is trailing soothing circles over his scarred thigh, passing from the thick crease where his ass meets the fat of his upper thighs, to just above the curve of his knee. Worshipful. Sweet. A contrast in colour; sun warmed flesh against star spun skin, a constellation charted out in moles span across his jagged back, visible from where Yoo Joonghyuk is perched.

Yoo Joonghyuk shifts, knees aching, to pull just slightly off Kim Dokja's cock. The slide of him is a delicious burn, pressing his sensitive inner walls wide open and rubbing relentlessly against his bullied sweet spot. The sensation of his plump cock head rubbing harshly over that spot, sends a flash of golden, molten heat through Yoo Joonghyuk's lower half. He stills, a gasp escaping him, and rolls his hips instinctively, chasing the addictive swell of pleasure. 

"Nnghh." He moans through gritted teeth, his breath punched from his lungs in harsh pants against Dokja's neck. 

His own dick twitches, more precum welling from his well used slit. It's slowly thickening between them untouched. He tries to stop his hips from moving, but it's like fighting against gravity. He drops, sinking quickly back down on the cock, his hungry hole happily reuniting with the thick length pressing so deeply inside of Joonghyuk stomach he could feel it in his throat.

"Haah, shit." He groans, biting Kim Dokja's neck in reply to his own lapse of control. It was cruel, punishing the other man for his own failing, but who gave this bastard the right to be so damn big? His companion twitches at the flash of pain, and tightens his own lips, sealing them tight. Yoo Joonghyuk's own control may be failing, but Kim Dokja was upholding his end of their bet. 

'Stay silent, don't thrust, be a nice toy for me to warm and you'll be rewarded. If I can’t last more than an hour I’ll wear the damn dress, and if you can’t…hmmph you know what I want.' or something along those lines. Yoo Joonghyuk found his thoughts slipping like silk, unravelling strand by strand away from him. Gnawing on his partner's neck was a small distraction, but nothing could shift his attention from the heat in his stomach, the pulse of blood thrumming through the cock that filled him. How it pressed so fucking good against his slick and sensitive insides.

He loves it, though it's not something they do often. He rarely lets himself be used. It's easier to just push his companion down, and Kim Dokja goes down so easily, even as he runs his mouth. His filthy, filthy mouth. Joonghyuk clenches, his legs straining and his chest heaving. He's covered in a thin layer of sweat, overheating from their combined body heat. But the wettest, hottest part of him is where his own dick lies rubbing lightly between them.

He misses it, that fool’s words. He'd mistakenly thought the other would break first, that he'd be pressed into the bed, knees in line with his shoulders as he's driven into. Boney thighs slapping against plush fat and muscle, his swollen and abused rim pressed to its limit against relentless thrusts, white foaming and spilling from where they're connected. He craves it, Kim Dokja's voice against his ear as he moaned out thick little whimpers. The soft "Hyuk-ah, feels good. You're....ah.. so hot inside." whined into the air between them as Yoo Joonghyuk collapses from the strain. He’d be unable to keep the noises he normally tries so hard to hold back from spilling, little hungry groans unable to drown out the slick sound of Kim Dokja's cock destroying his insides and reshaping the ruins remaining just for him.

Fuck, his cock is fully hard again, full to burst, the strands of precum thicker and flowing more freely. He abandons his plan, abandons warming the cock driving him crazy, and puts his efforts into bouncing on the burning length occupying his guts. Each rise of his hips had Joonghyuk circling his pelvis in a lurid grind, forcing the fat girth of Dokja's glans to stretch his rim to its widest point. It burned, but it was a good burn, being held so open he couldn't even tighten around it. 

His rim was already so sensitive from Kim Dokja's constant attention that he could come from just having it played with, but he craved that deeper stretch, the bruising crush of his prostate being forced into submission, and the painfully intense climax that came from having his orgasm squeezed from him this way.

"Kim Dokja! Nnng, Kim Dokja!" He was panting, chin wet and mouth swollen. Halfway driven mad by it. His companion’s dark eyes watch him greedily, a spotlight for his show for one. He’s always found the fool’s stubbornness equally infuriating and endearing. This time is slid towards infuriating. Why won’t the bastard break? Why is it always himself who breaks first?

Every fall of his hips is rewarded with his rim slapping the base of his companion's cock, his hole clenching around trembling flesh in sweet tremors, his prostate luxuriating under the constant pressure against it during the glide in, and a spot deep inside him being pressed against in a way he constantly forget feels good. He's full, overstuffed, brought to the edge of too much. It's perfect, Kim Dokja is perfect.

It’s war now, his composure fully stripped from him. He doesn’t want this to end without Kim Dokja crumbling too, just as desperate as he is. He knows it’s a hopeless thing, he can guess what the other man is thinking; ‘if we both lose than neither of us gets what we want.’. Fool, you’ve won fair and square. So take your prize, and I’ll pay it through.

He sloppily meets Kim Dokja's lips with his own, spit messily dripping from their chins. It’s noisy, the huffs of inelegant air spilling from their mouths and noses in between every slick kiss. Kim Dokja is trembling, his hands clenching Joonghyuk's thighs and hip with bruising force. His eyes stare hazy and unfocused where they meet Joonghyuk’s own. He gazes at Joonghyuk as if he's seen God descending into human form, like he's unworthy to look upon him.

Yoo Joonghyuk snorts, biting Dokja’s lip as punishment. It’s a silly thing for him to think, after all there are no gods here - only mortal men with mortal desires. His own mortal desire lies low on his pelvis, thickening with each bounce he takes on his lover’s cock. He separates their mouths, a sticky strand breaking in the air between them.

"I've... lost. Fff...You can talk." It was humiliating to admit it, but why should he feel embarrassed? He was full of dick, moments away from what would be a glorious orgasm, and wanted to hear his companion's voice. Kim Dokja gasps, shudders, and rasps into the air between them.

"Joonghyuk-ah, you're so wet." Bastard, Joonghyuk shouldn’t have said anything at all. He's grabbing Yoo Joonghyuk's waist with fervour, taking liberties now he’s unrestrained by their bet. He licks the swell of Yoo Joonghyuk's pecs, teeth grazing the dusky, swollen peaks arousal has made his nipples, and clenches at Yoo Joonghyuk's ass with his free hand. The pull of one of his cheeks causes his rim to twitch around the cock inside him. 

"Gorgeous, Hyuk-ah. Look at you taking my cock so well. Handsome even when you're drooling and bouncing on it-" he's rambling, words falling from his mouth in a tsunami. It's filth, it's all filth. "I want to make you cum, are you close? Please tell me you're close-" 

Joonghyuk tangles his hand in Kim Dokja's hair, using the soft strands to pull his head back for another kiss. Kim Dokja is thrusting into him now, their hips moving in tandem, and their combined fluids a foamy, wet mess, spilling from where they're connected. 

He’s close, and getting closer, sparks of heat forming in his groin and pulsing between his legs. Kim Dokja's hand moves from his waist to make its way between them, but Yoo Joonghyuk hits it away, his hole squeezing scarily tight around him.

"No, I don't need to. It's better without." He looks away from the fool, the red hidden beneath his tanned skin no doubt showing now as the embarrassment settles in. His dick twitches harder, the glossy strands seeping from it now in a ceaseless flow, and Kim Dokja stares up at him with his mouth slightly parted in wonder. With the insight born from the years they’ve spent together, Joonghyuk knew he was going to say something awful.

"Ah, fuck, Hyuk-ah- you're going to cum on my cock?" Hmm that wasn't too bad, normally it's a lot wors-

"I make you feel so good you don't need your cock to be touched? Maybe I'll cage you, milk you the way you like. You'd like that won't you Hyukie? Full of my cock, unable to touch yourself? Hah, ff-u, I'll get you so addicted you'll never need to touch it again-"

‘‘…” There it was. 

Despite how abhorrent he found it, his body still clenches tight and his hips still stutter, rewarding the bastard trapped under him. Kim Dokja pulls him down harder and presses up, his breath a thin wheeze. He was close, his thrusts losing rhythm. Yoo Joonghyuk was on the edge himself, his body teetering on the brink. Everything’s pulled tight. His rim, full and rubbed raw, his hole filled to the brink, his sweet spot so sweetly pressed. 

It’s building along his spine, hot and shivery, each beat of his heart only adding to the pulse. One final thrust is all it takes. 

He groans, burying his teeth once more in Kim Dokja's shoulder, as his body goes loose and lax in orgasm. His cock swaying under its own weight as it pulses a thick stream of cum untouched. He's wet, his hole fluttering around Kim Dokja as he grinds out the last of his pleasure on his cock. He's boneless and pleased, a pleasurable hum in his limbs and head, his lower half still pleasantly pulsing with the intensity of his climax. 

There's cum dripping from his stomach and Kim Dokja's, the sticky residue of his pleasure, and he's morbidly amused at the feel of Kim Dokja still hard inside of him. He hasn't stopped bouncing Yoo Joonghyuk on it and, before the over-stimulation kicks in, he too comes with a breathy moan. It's good, the thick wet heat filling him up. It's nice the feel of Kim Dokja's cock softening inside him. It's less pleasing to feel Dokja's cock slide from his lax hole, his cum trickling from the gaping slit Yoo Joonghyuk was struggling to tighten. A ruined red gift. 

Kim Dokja presses gentle kisses to Joonghyuk's lips, his cheeks, his face. His hands too are gentle where they travel over him. He mumbles something between them.

"Hmm?" Joonghyuk responds, sinking against the other man. The clean up will no doubt be a pain, and he'll definitely be feeling sore later today. He smirks, once more trying to clench around nothing, the ache was already setting in, an intoxicating memory he'll enjoy recalling. Too bad it doesn't happen often, admittedly it's his own fault, not a lack of willingness on Kim Dokja's end. 

"Love you, even if you are a greedy, impatient, sunfish." Kim Dokja replies back, slapping one of Yoo Joonghyuk's ass cheeks lightly with each pause. He's grumpy, no doubt because Joonghyuk cracked early, but not truly upset at the final result. Joonghyuk presses his own lingering kiss to the fool's mouth apologetically, biting down playfully as they separate.

"You felt good. I couldn't resist." He states it bluntly, his words a weapon towards the one part of Dokja that couldn't resist him. Dokja's dick twitches slightly against his thigh. He nudges his head against Dokja's, huffing in humour filled disbelief. Horny fool, needy squid. He hides his smile against Dokja's skin, and murmurs under his breath,

"Love you too, fool."

Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk smirks down at the man kneeling between his legs. Mouth stretched wide around three thick fingers, drool coating his chin and dewy tears pooling over his cheeks. He presses his fingers in harder, scissors them in Kim Dokja's throat like he's preparing him for something much bigger, and hums as he gags around the stretch.

"So this is how I shut you up."

He chuckles, deep in his throat, and feels the reverberations flow through his chest. He's high, high off the sight of his love softly gagging around a too-thick stretch, dark eyes gazing up at him indignantly through their tears.

He runs teasing fingers over the hard ridges at the top of Dokja's mouth, rubbing just at the itchy-sensitive arch just inside the cage of his teeth. Dokja flinches, unable to decide how to stop the ticklish sensation, opting to rock forward as if it would help.

He's red, sweaty, pants undone and bunched around his thighs and knees. His cock is flushed pink, and achingly hard. His plump head, exposed and glistening, released from the soft sheath of skin that normally envelops it.

His mouth, too, is glistening and red like the fresh pulp of a pomegranate, a parted slash across the pale gloss of his skin. It's enthralling, the type of intoxicating draw one can't tear their eyes from, and Yoo Joonghyuk is no exception.

He runs a thumb against his bottom lip, wiping the slick dripping from the thin curve, and slides one of his legs over the other. Kim Dokja's eyes darken further, the pitch black pupils almost overtaking the grey of his irises. Yoo Joonghyuk's smirk deepens, his voice shifting to a deeply smooth purr.

"Gagging for it. Do I look that good?" Joonghyuk shifts, feeling the rub of lace clad thighs pressing together. He's leaking himself, cock barely hidden where it tents the front panel of his garb, the entire length of his thigh and hip revealed by the deep slits on its' side.

A more risque pick, a gift for the fool Joonghyuk had so carefully selected, just for the look he knew it would put on his face.

The Qipao, though it can barely be called that with how bastardised it is, barely reaches mid thigh. The black rayon fabric clings tightly to his substantial chest and drapes over his pelvis. The garment has no sides, merely crisscrossing red lace stretching from his armpit to where it ties at his hip, leaving everything under that hanging freely.

There's a chest window exposing the curve of his pecs, and the collar wraps around his neck in a comforting grip. It's flimsy, it's sexy, it fills him with a sense of power at how quickly Kim Dokja crumples when he sees Joonghyuk wearing it.

The stockings are a new purchase however, thigh high, sheer and topped with lace, and the sight had the bastard drooling even before Joonghyuk shoved his fingers in his mouth.

As Joonghyuk's legs cross, the fabric pulls tight, stretching thin over his thick thighs, the curve of his ass visible from where Kim Dokja is kneeling. The shifting of his weight, and the movement of his legs, jostled the thick plug stretching him open.

It presses teasingly against his prostate, sending a warm tingling through his groin and stomach. His abdomen tenses in warning, and his cock twitches visibly beneath the thin fabric covering it, precum soaking through in a growing wet patch.

It clings to the sensitive, wet head, a playful weight that feels just good enough to stoke his arousal, but isn't intense enough to get him off. He tenses and rocks forward slightly, just enough to feel the plug in him press harder against his sweet spot, and for the fabric stuck between his thighs to pull taut, rubbing harder against his slick slit.

His own muffled groan is hidden, under the sudden moan that escapes from Kim Dokja's own stretched and stuffed mouth.

He's staring at Joonghyuk's hosiery clad thighs, and the quickly growing wet patch rubbing against his cock with a look of starvation. His eyes unfocused as he drools and licks at the base of Joonghyuk's fingers. He's humping at the air mindlessly, little drops of fluid flicking from the tip of his dick where it pathetically bounces from the thrusts.

He’s like an animal, base, rutting against everything that moves, yet feeling unsatisfied at the lack.

"You're hungry for it. Starving. But will you be satisfied by what I give you? Dokja-ya..."

Joonghyuk murmurs, one stocking clad foot sliding down to press against the soaked surface of Kim Dokja's ridiculously large cock, stopping the humiliating rut.

His own stretched tight rim, clenches sympathetically around the thick plug holding him open, his swollen hole throbbing at the lack of attention. Fuck he wants it in him. But that's not what today is for. It's a tease, a tantalising taste for the both of them.

It's new, wielding this specific flavour of control – playing the seducer. He thinks, trailing the flat of his foot down Dokja's twitching dick. All while delaying the already rare and addicting gratification of being stuffed full of a fat cock, forced to think of nothing else as it reshapes his willing insides.

Dokja whimpers, grinding against the pressure pressing his dick against his stomach. He’s leaking against Joonghyuk's stocking clad foot, and against his own button up when Joonghyuk presses his cock back. He's switched to sucking at Joonghyuk's lightly thrusting fingers, his eyes struggling to choose where to look.

“Look at you, humping at my foot like a beast. I should take a picture. A pretty reminder of how pathetically slutty my companion is.”

Joonghyuk hums, once more rocking down on his chair to stimulate his prostate with a filthy grind. He can't help but think about the other times he's bottomed for the man whining beneath his foot.

Dokja-ya likes to clutch him like a doll to his chest, worshipful hands trailing over every swell of muscle, fat, and flesh he can. He's attentive, terrible with his mouth, but always manages to scratch that itch in Joonghyuk. He loves how good an orgasm feels, punched from his gut by a fat cock head bullying his p-spot, with and without Kim Dokja's talented fingers milking his cock.

But he hates that he finds it so hard to fall into the right head-space for it, to trust completely that Kim Dokja will get him where he needs to be. He wants to. He wants to be able to enjoy it as freely as Dokja does. It's why he's doing this, playing with the dynamics of control. Testing the waters and his boundaries with relish.

He wants it, to grind Kim Dokja's cock cruelly against his own abdomen, to see the way he chokes and gags around his hand, even as he grinds harder against the pressure.

Kim Dokja's leaking freely now, close, and Yoo Joonghyuk is surprisingly close himself. He hadn't realised how wet he's gotten, how tight the heat and pressure in his gut has wound itself. He's not going to this time, but he desperately wants to.

He can also admit, looking down at his companion's heaving body, that he wants that too. Kim Dokja's fingers in his mouth, Kim Dokja above him, controlling his pleasure cruelly – more cruelly than Joonghyuk could bring himself to do in return.

He wants the glide of being stretched while he's in control, he wants to be fucked stupid and senseless when he isn't. He wants it the other way to, with supple insides clenching around him as a reward for Joonghyuk being so good for him, and he wants Dokja crying and hiccuping on his cock, even if it's unlikely for him to lose it like that.

"Say please, like a good boy, and I'll let you cum." Kim Dokja looks up at him with relief. His vocal cords vibrate as he slurs through the spit and the obstructions blocking him.

"Aai wnnh uu umm" it is nothing more than a dissonant mess of vowels and muffled consonants, but Joonghyuk's feeling kind. He removes his fingers from his companion's maw, and hooks the same wet hand around the base of Dokja’s skull.

Kim Dokja stares up at him, dazed, before his stupid face is pulled harshly against Joonghyuk's precum-soaked, fabric-coated cock. He whines, animal-like, and lathes at the wet fabric with devout fervour. It takes everything in Joonghyuk not to climax at Kim Dokja's spit and precum coated mouth lapping at the thick curve of him.

Instead, he crushes his head between his thighs, and grinds the heel of his cock against Kim Dokja's swollen cock tip, pressing it against the floor. Kim Dokja cries out, tearful and ecstatic, and cums in a thick rush, soaking Joonghyuk's stocking clad foot in his climax.

Kim Dokja's pressing kisses to his inner thighs, groin, and where his own cock slit's imprint in the fabric lays, before Joonghyuk pulls him off with an unrestrained moan of his own. He's shaking, trying not to rock against the chair and Dokja's face, as he desperately holds himself back from the ledge. Despite not climaxing himself, he feels exhausted.

He wants a shower, something to eat, and normal clothes on. He's glad he chose rayon for the dress, rather than something more traditional and expensive like silk or brocade – the thought of trying to get cum out of silk... Tch. He'd need a new dress.

But first, and most importantly, is Dokja alright?

Kim Dokja's snuggling into his thigh and mouthing at the lace. He thinks it's less of a horny, or upset action, and more like a dog playing with a bone. It's confirmed as Dokja turns a tear stained, but cheeky smirk up at him, he even winks. He’s fine then. Joonghyuk sighs, bops him on the head lightly with a fist, and moves to stand.

It's harder than he's expecting, his groin still thick and heavy, and arousal still keeping his ass sensitive to the plug. Kim Dokja turns a questioning look towards the front of his tented dress.

"Do you need a hand," he sticks out his tongue with a filthy grin, "or a tongue, Hyukie?" Joonghyuk only shoots him an annoyed look, before rolling his eyes at the shameless bastard.

"You were so quiet. It was nice." He smirks, sending the man a side eye, "Greedy as well. I thought your mouth had been full long enough? But it seems not."

He leans towards Kim Dokja, his own eyes dark with amusement at his antics.

"You could barely take my fingers – how on earth would you take my cock?" And turns on his heels, only to pause, remove his saturated stocking with a grimace, and continue to the bathroom.

"Hey, Hyukie! Joonghyuk-ah! If you don't think I can handle your dick, I'd be happy to handle your ass instead! Hey stop ignoring me, I'm saying I'll eat your a-" Kim Dokja's voice is cut off by the door between them and the shower starting. Now alone, Joonghyuk finally lets out a rough chuckle. The fool is persistent when it comes to making sure Joonghyuk finishes. Like he finds it a blow to his pride if he doesn't.

But some things are better if you have to wait for them. Stepping under the hot spray, he sighs. Kim Dokja has no idea what's coming for him.

Chapter Text

It's quiet in his head, a soothing pulse of giddy warmth and sweet distance. He's kneeling, his head against Kim Dokja's thigh, staring at his long, elegant fingers as he flips through his book page by page.

Every now and then Dokja-ya will reach his hand out and play with his hair. Run his fingers through every dark strand and scratch at his scalp with his nails. It's soothing and nice and makes his head fill even more with that seductive fogginess.

He shifts his weight on the soft cushions protecting his knees and bracing his legs, before nudging his head against Kim Dokja's thigh, silently begging for another run of his love's fingers through his hair. Kim Dokja looks down at him fondly, his lips pulled into a half smile and his eyes soft and bright.

He looks at Joonghyuk like he never thought he'd have this. Like he's something unfathomably precious that has come into Dokja's grasp, and all he can do is cherish it despite not believing himself worthy of it. 

He's a fool, a fool worthy of his love and devotion. He'd worship at Kim Dokja's feet, pray his feelings of love and hope and devotion everyday, if only for the hope that one day his love will look in the mirror and see someone worthy of being loved.

But that's not something Dokja-ya would want, so instead he fosters his devotion with signs of trust. Like this. After all, years ago, if someone had said to Yoo Joonghyuk he would be kneeling at the foot of a man in willing submission sometime in his future, he'd have tried to stab them. Likely would have succeeded too. But now he sighs as Kim Dokja trails starlight speckled fingers across his cheek, setting his heart pounding with sudden intense emotions.

He loves him, he loves him so much he wants to drown in him. He wants to be pulled under by his firm grip,  and his loving gaze. If he could get lost in the endless sea of stars in his gaze, a lone voyager without a compass, he would be the most content he could be. Instead, he huffs when Dokja lightly taps his nose, his face and mouth twitching.

"Dokja-ya,"

"Hmm? Is everything all good Hyukie? Want to stretch your legs for a bit?" No, if he could he'd be happy never moving at all. Or until the fog clears and he realises he needs to take a piss. Or Dokja-ya’s stomach growls… He shakes his head and presses a kiss to Dokja-ya's clothed knee.

"You didn't say I couldn't talk." He murmurs, hiding his smile in the curve of Dokja's leg. Kim Dokja snorts, placing his book on the side table and focusing entirely on petting Joonghyuk's head and face.

"Haaa, I suppose I didn't! Still it's surprising, you don't normally want to talk much like this." What he says is true. Joonghyuk isn't the most verbal of people, often preferring to leave that to Kim Dokja. But the other man can read him as easily as his books. 

From his facial expressions (micro expressions Hyuk-ah!), to his body language (how am I supposed to decipher the six different arm folds you have? -Kim Dokja!- Well I know what that means), to even the way Joonghyuk looks at him (I know that glare, someone wants a kiss).

Sometimes however, words are needed. Sometimes he just wants to talk, after all he actually likes talking to Kim Dokja... Mostly. When he doesn't want to murder the bastard. And yes, he's even less likely to talk when feeling especially... Submissive. Vulnerable. 

It feels too much like exposing a still tender wound to an enemy, even though he knows Kim Dokja's far from one. But he's calm today, happy and safe with Kim Dokja by his side. The flutters in his chest increase, traveling down to his fingertips. He buries his face in Dokja's hip, hiding his uncharacteristic expression. He’s forgotten, in the moments between, how easily embarrassed he can get with his defenses lowered.

"I like hearing you. You talk more when I do." His voice is muffled by the fabric and his hands are clenched into fists at his side, as if it would stop him from his inevitable desire to crawl into the bastard's lap and squeeze him until the nervous tension dies down. The 'Yoo Joonghyuk version of happy kneading' as Kim Dokja calls it. 

"Want me to read one of my books out loud?" Dokja keeps a hand in Joonghyuk's hair and fishes his phone out of his pocket with the other, thumbing it open to a webnovel site. Joonghyuk raises his head from where it’s buried for just long enough to send Kim Dokja a raised eyebrow.

"Hey! I need two hands for a paper book and this hand is reserved for my Hyukie." He pulls lightly at a strand of hair and grins like a demon. Stupid, foolish, lovely, infuriating man. He feels his lips pull again into a reluctant grin, hidden by the angle of his face. But he's sure Dokja knows. Of course he would.

"Any preferences? I'll pick out something I think you'll like." Kim Dokja looks down at him with shining eyes, a genuinely excited grin on his lips. He loves the times Joonghyuk indulges him with his hobby, just as much as Joonghyuk enjoys having Kim Dokja watch him cook or play games.

Joonghyuk shifts, adjusting the way he kneels so his chin settles on top of Dokja's thigh, and hums.

"Action. Fighting." He pauses and looks at Dokja with a lazy, satisfied gaze, his love for the other a warm glow he knows Kim Dokja can feel, "Something romantic." 

Just like us.