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why'd you only call me when you're high?

Summary:

Kim Dokja stares at Yoo Joonghyuk. Yoo Joonghyuk stares back.

“You’re telling me you’ve never bottomed.”

Yoo Joonghyuk's ears flush red.

“Shut up.”

Or, Kim Dokja’s brave attempt at topping.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Kim Dokja stares at Yoo Joonghyuk. Yoo Joonghyuk stares back.

“You’re telling me you’ve never bottomed.”

Yoo Joonghyuk's ears flush red.

“Shut up.”

 

Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk have an arrangement. It’s not so much of an arrangement as it is, well, impulse. But that’s neither here nor there.

Anyways, they have an arrangement, they have a routine and they know each other’s boundaries. So God forbid Kim Dokja wonders why they’re having this conversation right now.

 

It must be the whiskey, Kim Dokja decides. He’d gotten his monthly salary and decided to splurge on a good bottle. And because Yoo Joonghyuk was his lovely roommate, he asked him to join him for a drink or two. (Not because he didn’t have any other friends, mind you.)

A drink turned into two and two turned to four? Five? Kim Dokja has already lost count, but it’s apparently enough to have Yoo Joonghyuk spilling his deepest, darkest secrets to him.

“So you want to get fucked in the ass? It’s really not anything to write home about, if you’re curious about it.”

It’s a thoughtless comment, said to appease the man. Yoo Joonghyuk, to Kim Dokja’s horror, seems to be seriously considering it. He regards Kim Dokja meaningfully.

“No,” Dokja says.

“Kim Dokja.”

“No,” he repeats.

“You’re drunk. I’m drunk. Not a good idea.”

“Listen to me.”

“Go to sleep. I’m sleepy.”

Kim Dokja. I’m not drunk.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes flash and for a moment, Kim Dokja sees gold, hot and searing. He groans.

“I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips quirk up into something smug. He knows he won. Won what? Kim Dokja can’t say for sure.

He leans forward and whispers, right into Kim Dokja’s ear, “You’re the best person to take care of me, aren’t you?”

Kim Dokja whimpers. He really hates Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Nothing to write home about? I’m a bit hurt, I thought I made good work of you, hmm?”

There was definitely something in that whiskey, or Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t be saying all this to Kim Dokja. This damn vixen.

A tongue licks a wet stripe up the side of his neck and he shudders.

Ah. Fuck it.

Kim Dokja grabs his collar and crashes his lips against Yoo Joonghyuk’s. It’s hot and rough, just like they like it, but Yoo Joonghyuk is a bit different today. He’s pliant, tongue not dominant unlike the other times, as if he’s letting Kim Dokja do what he pleases.

What a softie. If this was an apology for the times he’s left Kim Dokja sore and aching all over, Kim Dokja was not having it.

It’s warm and inviting. He’s reminded of why exactly they do this. They’re both lonely people, with lonely jobs, and a bit too many issues for anyone to handle. It’s only right that they started to mess around with each other.

“Bed,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunts out, and hoists Kim Dokja up by his thighs, without letting go of him. He’s so fucking hot. Kim Dokja hates him.

The moment they get to Kim Dokja’s room, Yoo Joonghyuk throws him on the bed.

“Hey! What the hell, you rude bastard?”

Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t answer. Instead he opens up the wardrobe and starts rummaging through it.

“What are you looking for? The lube is here...” What was this bastard doing?

“The wings. Where are they?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, not explaining anything.

“What wings? Do you mean the ones I got on my birthday?”

The wings were a gag gift from Han Sooyoung. Dokja still clearly remembers her shit-eating grin as she handed him the wrapped package saying he could cosplay as the cupid he was, being born right after Valentine’s Day.

Yoo Joonghyuk hums.

“Why do you need them? And it should be there.”

Yoo Joonghyuk pops back up with the newly acquired wings and walks back to him with a menacing gait. “Turn around.”

“Huh?” Kim Dokja was seriously confused. Yoo Joonghyuk leans onto the bed and manhandles him till he turns around.

“Hey, don’t tell me... you want to have sex with me wearing that?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Shut up,” comes the eloquent reply. “The angel wings stay on during sex.”

“You psychopath!”

 

After some curses and pointless flailing around by Kim Dokja, they’re back on track.

Yoo Joonghyuk is lying down on the bed, his pants forgotten somewhere in the room, and looking at Kim Dokja expectantly.

It’s awkward. It’s so fucking awkward that Kim Dokja wants to claw his eyes out at the sight. He’s never done this for anyone else.

“What are you waiting for? Get on with it,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, as if he isn’t the reason Kim Dokja suffers from premature hair greying.

Kim Dokja keeps quiet, but presses a finger slicked up with lube to his entrance. Yoo Joonghyuk hisses.

“You couldn’t even warm it up? Have some- hah,” his words break off in a gasp as Kim Dokja slips in his finger. Yoo Joonghyuk was very chatty tonight, huh.

He works Yoo Joonghyuk open almost clinically, as if he were a doctor operating on a patient who was already dead. Yoo Joonghyuk watches him with furrowed eyebrows and the occasional huff.

“I thought this was supposed to be fun.”

“If you don’t want your ass crying in the morning shut up.”

“...”

Peace and quiet, finally. A tongue peeks out as Kim Dokja rummages around for the spot that gets him going. He speeds up a bit when he thinks Yoo Joonghyuk is loose enough but it’s hard to do when the wings at his back keep hitting his arms.

“Kim Dokja get to it already.”

“I would, if these damn wings stopped flapping around. What the hell’s your deal with them anyways?”

Yoo Joonghyuk just glares at him in favour of an answer.

Kim Dokja rolls his eyes. Remind him not to accept Yoo Joonghyuk’s impulsive whims ever again, if he was going to be so ungrateful about it.

When Kim Dokja finally deems him loose enough for his dick, he sighs in relief. Those were the longest five minutes of his life.

 

“I thought I was about to fall asleep.” Of course Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t let up the chance to be annoying. Kim Dokja glares at him.

He positions himself to Yoo Joonghyuk’s entrance and sighs. “Here goes nothing.”

 

As he slowly pushes into the heat of Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja realises a couple of things.

One, he’s the first guy to have ever gotten even close to fucking Yoo Joonghyuk.

Second, he is actually fucking Yoo Joonghyuk.

And third,

“God you’re so tight. That’s a virgin hole, alright.”

“Kim Dokja shut up.”

Kim Dokja looks down to smirk at the growing grimace on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. Is this the view Yoo Joonghyuk's been seeing all this time? Kim Dokja could get used to this.

He thrusts in shallowly to get Yoo Joonghyuk used to the feeling. His head fogs up in pleasure at the muscles clenching around him.

He was really too tight and Kim Dokja must be going crazy or his heart wouldn’t be racing like this. It’s the exhilaration of one-upping Yoo Joonghyuk, he tells himself. It’s just so warm.

“Kim Dokja, move faster.”

“Wait, you impatient bastard,” he grunts out.

Yoo Joonghyuk scoffs at him.

“Amateur.”

Kim Dokja grits his teeth and slams in to the hilt. That seems to do the trick, as Yoo Joonghyuk gasps and moans out loud. He slams in again, and again, until there’s nothing but groans being fucked out of his mouth.

That’s right bastard, eat your words.

He leans forward till their chests are touching and mouths at Yoo Joonghyuk’s slack jaw. He was a truly beautiful specimen and Kim Dokja is not that much of a fool to give up a chance to indulge like this.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s moans grate at his ears, relieving him of the itch he just couldn’t scratch. He looks at his face, eyes wide and tearing up, mouth opening in a silent scream whenever Kim Dokja hits that spot that makes him see stars. How lewd. Maybe Yoo Joonghyuk was onto something here.

He’s reaching his release, and Yoo Joonghyuk seems to be at his wit’s end too. Soon, he’s coming inside Yoo Joonghyuk with a groan. Yoo Joonghyuk climaxes too, and his come splatters against Kim Dokja’s stomach.

He shudders. Ah, he was getting too old for this. His arms give out from their position beside Yoo Joonghyuk’s head and he falls onto his chest with a wheeze. The heaving chest raises him up and down gently, and the strong heartbeat lulls him to comfort.

He’d probably regret this tomorrow, but for now he lets himself enjoy this.

When his strength returns a little bit, Kim Dokja pushes himself up to go get a washcloth. Before he can leave the bed though, a strong hand grips his arm and pulls him back to the hard chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks him with a raised eyebrow.

“To clean you up? Do you want to sleep like this?”

“What sleep? Kim Dokja, we’re not done yet.”

Yoo Joonghyuk flashes him a wolfish grin, and Kim Dokja promptly loses his sanity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

and then yjh rides kdj into sunrise!

nobody:
my brain at 3 am: what if yjh bratty bottom AND kdj bratty top?

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