Chapter Text
—
1.5
Han Sooyoung’s voice could be heard over the tiny phone speakers.
‘Listen, you prissy little—and yes you are a prissy little diva—you can handle missing a few hours worth of sleep over this.’
Yoo Jonghyuk pinched the bridge of his nose. “Han Sooyoung,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. He wasn’t successful. “It is three in the morning and I am in a company building that was designed by someone who decided to throw their brains out of the window when they created the floor plans—”
‘Is this your way of saying that you’re lost? Because it sounds like you’re just trying to be cool, which is by the way completely unnecessary. Especially after those incidents in middle school when—”
“Han Sooyoung! This is not the time for this.”
‘I meeeeean, I beg to differ—there is always time to humiliate you—but I guess I can be nice and give you some advice.’
Finally , Yoo Jonghyuk refrained from saying. He rolled his eyes.
‘My advice is that you find someone and ask them for directions. And—would you look at that, our time is up. That’ll be five thousand dollars—my secretary will send you the bill. Now I’m going to enjoy the sleep that you certainly won’t be getting. Bye!’
The call ended before Yoo Jonghyuk could get another word in. Cheap plastic creaked dangerously underneath his fingertips, saved only by the glimpse of a figure passing in Yoo Jonghyuk’s peripheral.
So there was someone crazy enough to be here at this god awful hour.
Ignoring Han Sooyoung’s victorious voice crowing in his head, he tapped the man’s shoulder to get his attention and ended up with a face full of subpar coffee for his efforts.
He would never take Han Sooyoung’s advice ever again.
The man stared at him with wide eyes and his mouth opened and closed, almost kind of like a fish out of water. Drops of coffee were stuck to his lips, the paleness of his skin only accentuated the frightening circles underneath his eyes, and his unkempt suit spoke of long hours, but somehow it—
“You come around here often?”
Any goodwill Yoo Jonghyuk had towards the man disappeared. But the man wasn’t done.
“That’s an impressive frown you got there, buddy. You might wanna relax a little before the wrinkles become permanent.”
Yoo Jonghyuk’s assessment of him dropped straight to the negatives. The phone creaked ominously again, this time succumbing to the force of hand, pieces crumbling to the floor. He looked up to see if the man saw the display of strength, but Yoo Jonghyuk was the only one in the hallway.
Coward.
—
8.5
Han Sooyoung rolled on the floor behind the potted plant Kim Dokja just glanced at, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god, my—my sides ,” she wheezed. “This—this is gold. He’s so stupid! You’re even stupider! Why would you even talk about the price of your items using his yearly salary? He probably thinks you’re insulting him now.”
“God, can you possibly get more obnoxious?” Yoo Jonghuk muttered, annoyed and totally not embarrassed at how miserably he failed. He regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth. “Wait, no—”
“Too late!” Han Sooyoung yelled, laughing even louder and making as much noise as possible. “You’re going to lose the bet,” she sang. “You’re going to lose the bet.”
“There’s still time.” Yoo Jonghyuk hated the way his voice pitched up a little at the end, as if he were whining. Which he wasn’t. Han Sooyoung can take her stupid laugh somewhere else.
“Okay, you big baby. Listen. Listen ,” Han Sooyoung said, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “If—and only if —you can actually get him to figure out who you are without directly telling him within a week, then I will bow down to you and do whatever you want for one hour.”
Yoo Jonghyuk raised an eyebrow, “Only one hour?”
“Don’t be greedy,” Han Sooyoung rolled her eyes. “Stop acting like you’ve won. This is going to be harder than you think. Oh, by the way, to make it fair, when—ahem, I mean if,” she amended after seeing his sour expression, because contrary to popular belief, Han Sooyoung did have some sense of self preservation. Well, probably. “If you lose, you bow down and do whatever I tell you for an hour.” She grinned deviously. “Also…you need to call me Master.”
“No.”
“Ohoho? You’re that scared that you’ll lose? I didn’t think that the prodigal young CEO with one thousand six hundred and eighty three total workers would be so cowardly?”
This was a trap.
Han Sooyoung knew it. Yoo Jonghyuk knew it. But his pride as a man was at stake. Yoo Jonghyuk pulled his shoulders back and signed the contract that Han Sooyoung pulled out of nowhere. This little brat probably planned this from the start. No, judging by her confident smirk, she definitely did.
Yoo Jonghyuk stared at their signatures on the paper.
How hard can it be?
He would come to regret those words later.
—
11.5
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
Yoo Jonghyuk looked at Lee Gilyoung, who was scowling at him quite impressively. Yoo Jonghyuk made a mental note to track his development in the future; that glare could be a weapon.
“And what is that?” He asked drily.
Lee Gilyoung pulled a face. “I don’t need to say it out loud.”
Smart kid. There was a pause, the silence between them broken by the faint sounds of Kim Dokja whining as Shin Yoosung tended to his injury in the bathroom.
“But,” he continued, the scowl returning. “Just know that I will not tolerate any disrespect towards hyung. Take even half a step out of line and you’ll be praying to a god we both know you don’t believe in.”
The water stopped running. Lee Gilyoung stopped at the doorway. “And don’t think for a second that money will save you. I’m going to help Hyung now.”
With that, Yoo Jonghyuk was left alone in the living room. Almost. There was also that feral dog staring at him with beady eyes from the corner. If her leash weren’t tied to the dining table, Yoo Jonghyuk was sure none of his facial features would be recognizable by now. Yoo Jonghyuk huffed, leaning back into the couch.
Lee Gilyoung would be terrifying once he grew up, if that little conversation was any indicator. Now, if only he were a little less dependent on Kim Dokja…Well, it might be a little early for that.
They still had plenty of time. Yoo Jonghyuk would make sure of it.
—
12.5
Yoo Jonghyuk walked into his office, regretting every decision when he saw a familiar face smirking at him.
“Time is running out,” Han Sooyoung said, spinning around on the chair and placing her hands under her chin like some sort of movie villain. “Hey, is this the one from that weird German designer? Think I can ask him to make me one too?”
“You already have dozens of chairs.”
She spun around again. “Different chairs evoke different feelings, and it’s so incredibly important to have a variety of options to choose from—my creative energy depends on it!”
“You say that like you didn’t just park yourself on any horizontal surface of whatever place served caffeine when we were in college.”
“Those were very dark times,” Han Sooyoung said, nodding sagely.
Yoo Jonghyuk scoffed. She acts as if going to the university they went to was a hardship. It wasn’t.
“But I’m getting side tracked here. Time is ticking!”
“I still have a few days left.”
She looked at him with pity in her eyes, and the back of Yoo Jonghyuk’s neck prickled. That look didn’t mean anything good when they were young, and it still didn’t mean anything good now. In fact, being on the receiving end of those disgustingly gentle eyes may be even worse now that they’re older.
“That’s what you think,” Han Sooyoung said. “But have you considered the fact that there may be other factors?”
“...Other factors?”
Han Sooyoung nodded. She pulled out a tissue and started dabbing at her dry eyes. “Yes, other factors. Such as competition that may or may not come in the form of giant slabs of muscles named Lee Hyunsung.”
Yoo Jonghyuk shot her a glare. “You’re joking. Lee Hyunsung? The idiot who made an absolute fool of himself trying to get Jung Heewon’s attention”
“And that ‘idiot’ has had more success in the romance department than you—considering how they’re, you know, married— so who’s the real fool here now?” Han Sooyoung stuck her tongue out. Yoo Jonghyuk took no notice of her childhood display.
“Anyways, I saw them walk into a supply closet. Supply closet sixty three, to be more precise. You’re welcome.”
Yoo Jonghyuk’s stomach dropped. He turned on his heel and started heading in that direction. It was a good thing that he memorised the floor plans out of spite. And it was an even better thing that he used all of his athleticism to practically sprint through the hallways. He turned the corner and caught the sight of Kim Dokja limping out of said closet—and was Lee Hyunsung blushing ?
“I’m sorry,” Yoo Jonghyuk heard Lee Hyunsung say. And every word in his following explanation made Yoo Jonghyuk’s blood pressure rise exponentially.
Unable to hear any more of this nonsense, he gritted out: “Before you what ?”
Kim Dokja actually groaned, and Yoo Jonghyuk tried not to feel anything but rage at the sound, a feat made even more difficult once combined with teary eyes and dishevelled clothing.
Yoo Jonghyuk cursed himself for being complacent. He thought that Han Sooyoung was the only annoyance he had to deal with. Lee Hyunsung was an oversight. He’ll make sure to have words with Jung Heewon later; she’ll be sure to set Lee Hyunsung straight.
—
15.5
Too light , was Yoo Jonghyuk’s first thought upon scooping a squirming Kim Dokja up. It had been a surprise to see that name pop up on his phone screen earlier, and Yoo Jonghyuk didn’t know whether or not he should be insulted at the fact that Kim Dokja had been surprised that he even picked up.
“Jonghyukkie,” Kim Dokja sang. “Jong-Jonghyukkie.”
“You’re awake.” Yoo Jonghyuk’s ears burned red at the affectionate name. He was glad Kim Dokja was too drunk to notice. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I just like saying your name. Jonghyukkie. Jonghyukkie.”
The flush travelled down his neck. Even when drunk, Kim Dokja still managed to drive him crazy. No, Yoo Jonghyuk decided. It was even worse because a drunken Kim Dokja was one that didn’t have a filter.
“It’s a cute name,” Kim Dokja mumbled into his shirt. “Really cute. Doesn’t suit your image, though.”
Yoo Jonghyuk nodded to the security guard as they passed each other, satisfied with the lack of reaction. He expected nothing less. “And what image is that?”
Kim Dokja hummed, tilting his head back. Yoo Jonghyuk shifted his arms to hold him a little more securely. “Dark. Broody. Mysterious. Y’know, that bad boy type that all girls just love.”
Could Kim Dokja feel how hard his heart was beating? Probably not. “All the girls?”
“Yep,” Kim Dokja said, popping the ‘p’. "Some of the guys too."
Yoo Jonghyuk hesitated. “And…what about you?”
But there was no response. He looked down to see that Kim Dokja’s eyes were closed, once again slipping into dreamland. Yoo Jonghyuk sighed.
“What am I going to do with you,” Yoo Jonghyuk said, a little too fondly. Kim Dokja looked incredibly peaceful when he was sleeping, the tense lines nowhere to be found. He completed the rest of the trip to his apartment in silence.
He placed Kim Dokja on the bed gently, taking in the flush of his cheeks for just a moment before moving to remove his shoes and outer clothing and tucking him under the blankets. He quickly went to the bathroom to change into more comfortable clothing and smiled when Kim Dokja shifted restlessly as he slid under the blankets beside him.
Kim Dokja quickly settled down once when he realised that there was a huge source of heat right next to him, latching on immediately. Yoo Jonghyuk huffed at the limbs wrapped around him, his eyes wandering down the planes of Kim Dokja’s face illuminated in the faint moonlight.
They would have time to talk tomorrow, he decided. Yoo Jonghyuk would make the most delicious breakfast filled with Kim Dokja’s favourites—since food seemed to be a surefire way to Kim Dokja’s good graces—and he would lay everything out on the table, Han Sooyoung’s bet be damned. There would be no more misunderstandings between them.
He closed his eyes and let Kim Dokja’s warmth, his steady breaths, lull him to sleep.
Tomorrow.
—
20.5
Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung eyed him suspiciously. Their teacher shifted restlessly a short distance away; she was too far to hear their conversation, but just close enough to see what kinds of expressions the kids had on their faces.
“What are you doing here?” Lee Gilyound scoffed, lip curling an expression that could only be classified as disgust. Nice.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t scream my lungs off right now,” Shin Yoosung said, eyes narrowing. “You have five seconds. Five. Two. One.”
She had potential as well. Yoo Jonghyuk made a note.
“Kim Dokja is sick,” he said, just as Shin Yoosung opened her mouth wide.
“What?!” Lee Gilyoung shouted. Shin Yoosung choked on her inhale.
“Gilyoung! Yoosung!” The teacher walked up to them, placing herself between the children and Yoo Jonghyuk. “Is everything alright? Is this person supposed to be picking you up right now?”
“Yes, teacher,” Shin Yoosung said, smiling sweetly. A complete contrast to what she looked like just two seconds ago. The teacher looked doubtful, but after Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung’s assured her a few more times that yes, the did know this person and yes, he was supposed to be picking them up , she finally let them leave.
“You should have said it earlier,” Lee Gilyoung muttered from where he was stuffing his face with snacks in the back seat. “Aren’t you the CEO of some random company? You should know when to skip the small talk.”
“You know who I am?”
“Of course we do,” Shin Yoosung scoffed. “It’s not like you’re on the news every other week, which is honestly overkill if you ask me; you’re not even that special.”
‘Not that special,’ she says. Right. As if he weren’t the owner of multiple billion dollar companies responsible for countless innovations. The kids levelled him a flat look, as if they knew what he was thinking.
“Anyways,” she continued. “Yoo Jonghyuk isn’t exactly a common name. Only an idiot wouldn’t—” she stopped abruptly.
Silence reigned in the car.
Lee Gilyoung broke it. “Hyung…Hyung doesn’t know, does he?”
Another silence. Yoo Jonghyuk glanced through the rear view mirror and noticed them sharing a look. “No,” they said simultaneously. “He has to know.”
“Yeah,” Lee Gilyoung said, opening another snack. “He’s not an idiot. He’s just pretending not to know just so you can save face. It’ll be so funny when this joke blows up in your face.”
Yoo Jonghyuk suppressed a sigh. They really looked up to Kim Dokja, looking at everything the man has ever done with rose tinted glasses. How nice would it be, Yoo Jonghyuk mused, if Kim Dokja actually knew who he was and was just messing around.
Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Kim Dokja really had no idea as to who he was, even though Yoo Jonghyuk (and numerous others) have dropped glaringly obvious hints. Truly, it was unfortunate.
Shin Yoosung nodded sagely, rummaging through the bag Yoo Jonghyuk prepared for them. “Hey, where’s the banana milk?”
“Second pocket on the right side,” Yoo Jonghyuk said. “How about you use your eyes to look instead of your mouth?”
“Rude.”
“Says the one stuffing her face. Don’t eat everything, I’m going to be cooking later.”
The crinkling sounds of plastic stopped. “What are you making?” Lee Gilyoung asked.
“Can you make that fancy pasta again?” Lee Gilyoung pulled a face, and Shin Yoosung shoved his shoulder. “What do you have against the fancy pasta?!”
“Nothing,” Lee Gilyoung said. “But we already had it for lunch, so we should have steak for dinner.”
“We had steak for dinner last night! And the fancy pasta is obviously much better!”
“You think hyung wants to eat the same thing for two meals in a row??”
“Yes, because he likes pasta!”
“No, he likes steak better!”
Actually, Kim Dokja would eat just about anything—except for tomatoes—which annoyed Yoo Jonghyuk to no end because it meant that Kim Dokja also consumed things that shouldn’t really be consumed.
The sounds of Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung arguing about what dish he should make filled the background. It was noisy, yes, but Yoo Jonghyuk couldn’t quite bring himself to mind it at all.
—
22.5
“Aren’t you going to chase after him?” Jung Heewon asked. Yoo Jonghyuk turned to see her leaning on the doorway. She whistled slowly. “Better get going soon.”
Yoo Jonghyuk shook his head, sending her a helpless look. “He’s long gone by now. See what I have to deal with?”
“Yeah, he’s…something else.”
Jung Heewon says that, but her eyes wjere a touch softer than usual. Huh. It seems that she and Kim Dokja got along pretty well.
“Thanks.”
Jung Heewon looked at him, before walking over and punching his shoulder. “You’re a real bastard, you know that? Hyunsung was absolutely distraught when you implied that he was cheating on me.”
“Sorry,” Yoo Jonghyuk said, not sorry at all. Judging by the look on Jung Heewon’s face, she knew as well. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“Well, it’s safe to say that you have your work cut out for you,” Jung Heewon said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t say I feel bad at all though. You deserve to struggle.”
Jung Heewon looked around. “Oh yeah, I was starting to think that it was a little too quiet around here. Where’s your little fangirl? She’s usually stuck to your heels.”
Yoo Jonghyuk jolted. In his haste to get to the bar before Kim Dokja ran away again, he abandoned Lee Jihye in the middle of their swordsmanship lesson. He cringed ever so slightly at the judgemental look Jung Heewon shot him.
“You forgot about her, didn’t you?”
“No,” Yoo Jonghyuk said, pulling out his phone. “And she can take care of herself.”
“Right. And what are the odds that she’s fighting someone right now? Very high.”
Yoo Jonghyuk ignored her in favor of listening to the ringing tones on his phone.
“ Master!” Lee Jihye said. There were thumping noises in the background. “ Where did you go? I tried following you but I think I’m a little lost right now.”
“Are you fighting someone?”
“ Maybe?” A muffled scream. “ Okay, fine. Yes. I’m fighting someone…but that’s only because they were picking on this homeless guy! So of course I had to save him!”
‘ I told you,’ Jung Heewon mouthed at him.
Lee Jihye blabbered on. “ —And he’s wearing a suit that looks exactly like the one you got from that French designer last month! Yours are much better, of course! I don’t know how he managed to get his hands on the same cut since that stingy dude has a habit of making only two sets of every design…”
Yoo Jonghyuk pinched the bridge of his nose. The description of the homeless man now made sense, considering who it actually was. “Does he have black hair? Really pale skin? Eyebags the size of the luggage you brought on our last trip?”
“ How did you know all of that?”
“Put me on speaker.” Yoo Jonghyuk waited two seconds before saying, “Kim Dokja.”
A pause. Then—“ No! Don’t run away!!”
Yoo Jonghyuk sighed again.
Jung Heewon slapped his back. “That bad, huh?”
You don’t even know the half of it, Yoo Jonghyuk thought. She slapped his back again.
—
32.5
Kim Dokja’s eggs slid off his spoon with a plop. Yoo Jonghyuk looked at the lump on the table.
“ What?” Kim Dokja shrieked, pieces of egg flying around as he frantically waved his spoon. “You—You’re the CEO??”
Yoo Jonghyuk took a very deep breath in and released it slowly. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”
Kim Dokja stared at him with wide eyes, as if this information was some sort of well kept secret. It wasn’t. Kim Dokja is just an idiot.
“And you didn’t think to tell me??”
“Dokja,” Yoo Jonghyuk said. “How have you not noticed? Even the kids picked up on it immediately.”
“The kids know??”
“They figured it out almost immediately and they didn’t say anything because they thought you already knew and that you were just pulling some sort of elaborate prank on me.”
Kim Dokja’s mouth snapped shut. He stared at the sad lump of eggs, looking a bit like his soul just left his body. Yoo Jonghyuk could relate. Kim Dokja’s shoulders slumped, his lips turning downward.
Yoo Jonghyuk felt a stab of misguided guilt in his chest. It really wasn’t his fault that Kim Dokja decided to ignore all the signs in front of him…but he supposed that he could have been a little more upfront about his identity. Yoo Jonghyuk opened his mouth to offer some sort of consolation when Kim Dokja suddenly perked up, his eyes sparkling.
“...So can I get a raise?”
The wooden spoon in Yoo Jonghyuk’s hand snapped in half.
—