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When Yoo Joonghyuk explains, in several very terse sentences, that he’s under the effects of what the old Internet termed “sex pollen,” Kim Dokja’s response is to blush splotchily and wonder why he was being told.
“Alright,” he says. “I won’t disturb you and Lee Seolhwa for a while, I understand. Just try not to be long.” He turns and Yoo Joonghyuk catches his shoulder.
“This is the third regression. Not the second. Besides,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, and purses his lips. “I need to. Receive.”
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire feels faint.]
[50,000 coins are sponsored.]
Kim Dokja laughs, which seems to be a bad response given the way Yoo Joonghyuk shoves him backwards. He turns and starts to leave, absolutely glowering.
“Wait,” Dokja says. “I know this one. You’ll live, but you’ll be helpless in the next scenario.”
Yoo Joonghyuk stops and his shoulders relax, a touch.
“I thought that that specific item only could affect women, though,” Dokja says.
[The constellation who likes to change sexes smiles.]
Yoo Joonghyuk turns halfway around and gives Dokja a furious look so intense he feels like a tree bending in the wind. It feels oddly familiar, though he can’t place from where. That kind of look on Yoo Joonghyuk...before the apocalypse he could only dream of what he might have looked like facing down someone like Asomodeus. Now he knows. He smiles.
“Maybe I’ve only heard of it happening to women. Or it’s to do with who you’re attracted to?” Dokja shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. “There are all types of people in the world.”
[The constellation Prisoner of the Golden Headband nods approvingly.]
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire nods so hard she hurts her neck.]
“So,” Yoo Joonghyuk says.
Kim Dokja stares at him for a long moment. “So?”
“You…do you still not understand?” He grits his teeth. “I need your help.”
[The constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire explodes in glee.]
Kim Dokja can feel that blotchy blush rise on his cheeks again.
Bihyung, Dokja messages. Ads. Or Yoo Joonghyuk will kill us both.
After some bargaining, Bihyung listens. Dokja sighs. It’s easy to bribe him with coins now, but it still hurts to have to give up a chunk just to get some privacy.
They’re in a conference room, part of a building Kim Dokja’s Company commandeered before the start of the next scenario to rest and recover. Dokja’s been sleeping in here, his sleeping bag strewn messily on the ground halfway across the room. Dokja leans back against a long table.
“Channel’s off. Are you sure? There’s Lee Hyunsung, and I’m sure we could—”
“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk growls. “Are you willing?”
Dokja blinks. “I. Will you forgive me for bringing you back to Earth first?”
Yoo Joonghyuk looks a little surprised. “Yes,” he says, finally.
“Then alright.”
Yoo Joonghyuk starts taking off his coat, and Dokja blanches. “Right here? Now?”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s face twitches, and Dokja remembers how painful this is, purportedly. He sighs. “Okay. I think there’s a way to help you without,” he says, and looks pointedly at Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers on the hem of his shirt. “You just have to have, uh, semen, enter you—”
He thinks Yoo Joonghyuk looks a little relieved, and tries not to feel anything about it. “So, you can,” he says, and coughs. “Suck—”
Yoo Joonghyuk pushes him down into one of the chairs. He’s already half-hard, which is somehow mortifying even if that’s what’s needed right now. Yoo Joonghyuk kneels between his legs, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants.
Up close, Yoo Joonghyuk is doing worse than Dokja thought. Either that or he’s stopped pretending. He inches closer to Dokja on his knees, and Dokja can see a hard bulge in his pants. He wonders how long it took Yoo Joonghyuk to ask for his help. How painful the arousal is.
Yoo Joonghyuk pants, resting his head briefly against Kim Dokja’s thigh. He’s flushed, pupils blown, and Dokja thinks of the 1863rd regression Joonghyuk, how much he looked to Dokja for direction.
This Joonghyuk would chafe at the bridle, but that didn’t mean he didn’t crave it. Dokja pushes a hand into Joonghyuk’s hair and gets a murderous look back.
“What?” Dokja says. “Am I not allowed to touch you?”
That wouldn’t be that surprising, actually. He’s not sure he’ll see Joonghyuk until the next scenario, after this. He fully expects him to disappear for as long as it takes to dispel some of the embarrassment rolling off him in waves, and then threaten bodily harm to anyone who even mentions it.
Joonghyuk just closes his eyes under Dokja’s hand and moves closer, unbuttoning his pants with the same grim determination with which he would disarm a bomb.
“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Dokja says. He’s not this cruel. “We can find a cure, if this—”
Joonghyuk is staring at him. “Are you saying I can’t do this?”
“No, just that, if you don’t want to—”
“Shut up, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, and takes Dokja’s cock in his mouth. He swallows down as much as he can and covers the rest with his massive, feverish hand. Dokja bites down on his lip to stifle a cry. It’s warm and wet and good. He can tell Yoo Joonghyuk is new to this and probably copying what he and Lee Seolhwa did last regression. But having someone there, someone else touching his cock…it feels three times as good as doing this alone. Four times. Yoo Joonghyuk glares up at him with Dokja’s cock in his mouth and Dokja almost comes just from the sight.
“It’s small,” Joonghyuk says, pulling off of it with a wet sound. “Convenient,” he says, and smirks.
Dokja can feel his face burning. “It’s average, and if it’s so goddamn small why can’t you fit the whole thing in your mouth anyway?” He wonders with a little trepidation how monstrously big the protagonist’s dick is, glancing down at his pants again.
Joonghyuk is looking at his cock with a considering glance, which is both the sexiest and most mortifying thing to ever happen to Kim Dokja. He thinks about all the times he read Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse after he’d been bullied and imagined Yoo Joonghyuk there instead of him. Or there protecting him. He didn’t ever imagine. This.
Joonghyuk licks a stripe up the base of Dokja’s cock and swirls his tongue under the head, and Dokja jerks back so far he almost falls off the chair.
“Kim Dokja,” Joonghyuk says. “Stop thinking.” And he takes more of his cock in his mouth, pressing a little deeper. Joonghyuk gags but keeps going.
This bastard even has to be the best at this, Dokja thinks, helplessly fond. His hand has landed in Joonghyuk’s hair again, without Dokja noticing. His hair is silky and thick and Dokja strokes it and thinks again about the 1863rd regression.
“Good boy,” he says, and Joonghyuk goes completely still. His face is red—when did his face get so red—and he sits back on his heels. He’s so close that Dokja’s hand is still in his hair.
“Do you want me to bite it off?” It lacks the murderous force that it could have.
“There’s actually an item to grow it back—”
“Dokja,” Joonghyuk says, furious but also a little exasperated. “Will you shut up so we can get this over with?” And he goes back to work, taking enough of Dokja’s cock that he can’t stand it and comes with a muffled shout and a tug on Joonghyuk’s hair. Joonghyuk swallows and then sighs in relief.
“That much better?” Dokja murmurs. Joonghyuk lists a little to the side like before, cheek grazing Dokja’s thigh. For a moment, he looks completely relaxed. Dokja reluctantly releases his hold on Joonghyuk’s hair while he’s still distracted. Then he looks down. Joonghyuk is still hard.
“Come on,” Dokja says, and urges him up. “You have to…as well.”
Joonghyuk blinks, then sits up straight.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
He stands, a little unsteadily. Dokja hurriedly tucks himself into his pants and stands up from the chair.
“If you ever mention this again,” Joonghyuk says, “I’ll rip out your tongue.”
“Sure.” Dokja smiles at him. He’s missed this dramatic bastard.
“And,” he says, eyes clouded, “don’t ever fool yourself into thinking I’m good.”
Dokja frowns and shifts his weight to one foot, crossing his arms.
“Don’t I get to decide that for myself?”
“No,” Joonghyuk says. “You don’t.”
He stalks off, and Dokja watches him go. Maybe if they keep saving people...maybe if the world Yoo Joonghyuk knows is one he’s saved instead of one he’s lost. Maybe then Yoo Joonghyuk would believe him.
For now, he collapses back into the chair and puts his head down on the desk, arm over his eyes. The protagonist had done that for him, Kim Dokja. His hands were warm, is what he remembers most. His warm hands. Kim Dokja falls asleep wondering how it would feel to hold them.