Archive of Our Own

Kim Dokja stepped into the room, his head hanging low. “It's stuck.”

Han Sooyoung burst out laughing.

“What is stuck?”

With a hand still around the bathroom's door knob, Kim Dokja whipped his head to the left and locked eyes with Yoo Joonghyuk, who was supposed to be off dealing with some scenario and not back at the industrial complex yet, blocking the room's only exit.

Behind him, Han Sooyoung continued cackling like the witch she was over the many pings of the constellations's frantic messages. The notifications clustered around him like a persistent horde of mosquitoes he was quick to swat away. He didn't have to read them to have an idea of what they were saying; his own imagination was enough to strain the fourth wall, letting mortification barely poke its ugly head over it.

“You Joonghyuk,” he greeted cheerily, dropping his miserable expression for his usual plastic smile. Cautiously, he approached from one side, expecting the man to move if only a little. To his disappointment, Yoo Joonghyuk did no such thing, not leaving even a narrow gap he could use to scurry away. “You got back early. You sure can be efficient when you want to.”

Entirely oblivious to his unfortunate timing, Yoo Joonghyuk looked down at him with the eyes he reserved for his most obvious lies. Always his harshest judge, he pinned him down with his gaze alone, as if evaluating whether he should bother to care or not. Despite his silent prayer for him to lose interest and leave, Yoo Joonghyuk promptly turned to the third person in the room.

“Han Sooyoung,” he asked. “What in the world is he talking about?”

In Han Sooyoung's defense, she seemed to be trying her best to offer a coherent response in between her bursts of laughter, but the lack of air left her mouth gaping like a fish, nothing but a dry wheeze coming out of it. Maybe most people wouldn't blame her for her reaction, given the situation, but in his spot as the butt of the joke, Kim Dokja was deeply unimpressed.

“I meant nothing,” he hurried to answer in her stead, seeing as she didn't seem able to throw up a word. It did nothing to stop Han Sooyoung, who had already recovered her breath.

“This idiot,” she finally hiccupped, lifting a hand to point at him with her finger. “This idiot dragged us to a sub scenario and said it was easy, and he couldn't catch that damn goose on time. We had to run away from the giant, and now it's stuck inside him.”

“It?” Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes switched between her and Kim Dokja, evidently confused. But before Han Sooyoung could open her big mouth again, Kim Dokja had already smacked a hand over it.

“It's nothing you should worry your handsome head about!” He tried to sound convincing despite Han Sooyoung squirming against his hold. “Only a minor penalty I'll deal with soon enough.” 

And it was. 

He didn't see any reason to make a fuss about it, and even less for Yoo Joonghyuk of all people to be in the known about it. But of course, the bastard had to be annoyingly stubborn. 

When had he become so nosey? He sort of missed the time when they would go on their own way without a word besides mutual understanding. Nowadays, he seemed to be working overtime to keep his leash as short as possible.

“If you have free time why don't you go do something productive, hm? Don't you have a sword to polish or something?”

By that point, he could tell that Yoo Joonghyuk was losing the grip on his patience. He paid little attention to his desperate rant; he had his sights solely on Han Sooyoung, who seemed more than happy to give him the answer he wanted. With a hand uncomfortably close to his sword handle, he repeated his question.

Of course, it was simply not possible for her to talk with her mouth slapped shut and an arm around her neck. But it turned out that she was more of an animal than he thought, because she didn't miss the opportunity to get her tongue out and lick his palm like one. Kim Dokja immediately retracted his hand in disgust.

“You witch!”

“What is stuck in him?”

“The egg!”

The awkward silence that followed felt almost accusatory. 

Yoo Joonghyuk was staring at him. The constellations, for once, were remarkably quiet but he still could feel their many eyes shining his way. Han Sooyoung was pointedly not looking at him, but her amusement reached him all the same.

Not even pausing to pick up the pieces of his dignity, Kim Dokja turned on his heel and left. 

“No, wait! Kim Dokja, this is serious.” While she was sure he was able to hear her, Kim Dokja retreating back was soon out of sight. Mildly annoyed, Han Sooyoung clicked her tongue. “That moron…”

With a heavy sigh, she looked up to Yoo Joonghyuk curiously. She had expected him to go chasing after that fool already, but the man was still standing there, looking as confused as she herself was.

“Is that true?” He asked after a moment, not even bothering to meet her face, but even from the awkward angle she could see the way his mouth twisted, as if it pained him to ask. “Can that penalty actually hurt him?”

A scoff made its way out of her mouth. If Han Sooyoung got a nickel for each time she had to play translator for these two, she would be richer than Kim Dokja by now. Sadly, her unpaid work was closer to charity service she did in hopes to avoid the company burning down.

If this was an actual company, she'd have called the union on them by now with the amount of free labor they were getting. Nobody told her being a translator to two idiots was part of the job and god knows she didn’t plan on doing overtime this time around. This time, she didn't feel like spelling it out for him.

“You aren't that clueless, you know where exactly that egg is.” She accused. Yoo Joonghyuk didn't admit or deny it; his face remained impassive, a single brow raising as if to ask what her point was. Her own eyebrows arched up with skepticism. “It's up his ass! He's basically egg bound right now. It's funny now, but it can be dangerous if he doesn't fix it soon.”

“Egg bound?”

“Yeah. Egg bound. Like a chicken?” She clarified, thinking it a bit self explanatory. Judging by the confusion written all over his face, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t think the same, and so it was up to her to explain it as briefly as she could. “You see, hens get egg bound when an egg gets stuck in the cloaca. It makes them really weak and if the egg doesn't make its way out they can die. It's a pretty serious thing…quit making that face! Authors have to research pretty weird things sometimes, you know? It's not even that strange–.”

“Kim Dokja is not a hen,” he interrupted her rather stupidly. But as stupid as it was, she didn't have a rebuttal for it. Egg or not, Kim Dokja was human and had no cloaca, as far as she knew.

“No shit sherlock. I suppose that in this case it's closer to constipation.” She snorted, suddenly realizing something. “A very bad one; that egg is made of pure gold.”

From the corner of her eye, she swears she could see the way Yoo Joonghyuk's normally stoic face became the slightest bit paler. Without uttering another word, he headed down the same corridor Kim Dokja had taken.

“There he goes. Finally.”

Kim Dokja was maybe a bit too aware of the mess he looked like when he finally found the courage to open the door and tell Yoo Joonghyuk to get lost. With his belt gone missing and pants unbuttoned and hastily pulled up, it surely didn't take much to put the pieces together; he didn't have to be in Yoo Joonghyuk's mind to know what he was thinking after giving him an once over.

“Is that how you plan to take it out?” Ah, how Kim Dokja wished to close the door in his face.

“There's only one way out, isn't there?” he said tiredly, leaning into the doorframe. Despite his nonchalance, he shifted uneasily under his gaze. “Do you need something from me, Yoo Joonghyuk? If not, I'm a bit busy right now, I'm sure you can tell.”

“I don't need anything from you,” he answered with a certain contempt in his voice Kim Dokja was no stranger to. Less common was the hesitant tone he took afterwards. “But you do need me.”

A second stretched and shrunk back into an eternity. In this lapse of time, Kim Dokja's brain worked overtime to find the bit of context he had missed, the secret meaning that could point him at any hint. In the end, the only possible conclusion was that it didn't matter whatever Yoo Joonghyuk thought he needed help with; he was wrong.

Satisfied, he smiled up at him.

“Well, I don't.” With a quick wave of his hand, he started pushing the door shut. “So you can leave. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

The door stopped against the thick leather of Yoo Joonghyuk's boot. Before he had the chance to close it anyway, fingers curled over its edge and shoved forward with terrifying strength. The handle hit the wall so hard it cracked; like it was nothing, Yoo Joonghyuk stepped in and slammed it close behind him.

“Hey!” He hurried to press a palm against Yoo Joonghyk's chest. “When did I ever say you could come inside?”

“You opened the door yourself,” was his answer, as if he hadn't been threatening to bring it down with how hard he had been knocking. As it was usual, the blame was directed to Kim Dokja instead. “You always run away without a word instead of asking for help,” he told him, jabbing an accusatory finger to his chest. “And now you won't bother to tell me what is happening. Do you intend to die again?”

In Kim Dokja's opinion, that speech was getting old. Ever since the Demon King Selection, the company had been insistent on bringing up his many deaths and holding them against him, whether it was relevant to the discussion or not. He wasn't a hypocrite; he knew he was hurting them, even if he couldn't begin to understand why, but didn't see a reason to stop something that worked.

Tired as he was and with the egg sitting more and more uncomfortably in his abdomen the longer he stayed standing, Kim Dokja felt the usually thicker thread of his patience coming close to snap. His fingers closed around the hand pointing at him and swiftly moved it away. 

“Die? Who says I'm dying? I remember saying it was only a minor inconvenience.” He reminded him. Seriously, one dies a couple of times and now that's all everyone talks about. Raising his own hand to point back at Yoo Joonghyuk, he added “And who could I even ask for help? You?”

It was meant as a quip, a wake-up call to Yoo Joonghyuk's poor judgement, not to be taken seriously. He was not prepared for the sincerity in which Yoo Joonghyuk looked back at him, tilting his head in the hint of a nod. Slowly, Kim Dokja's smile vanished. “You gotta be joking.”

Of all the hypothetical options to help him deal with this particular problem, Yoo Joonghyuk would be the worst one.

Apparently, that offended Yoo Joonghyuk, whose left eye twitched. “Han Sooyoung explained it to me. If you don't get that egg out soon it will cause you great damage. Stop being a stubborn fool.” Then, as if fed by his own anger, he inquired sharply. “If not me, then who else?”

“No one,” he answered, a bit startled. “This is not about who, it's about you poking your nose in what's not your business.”

“Not my business?” Far from being placated, Yoo Joonghyuk's frown deepened as he looked at him like he couldn't believe his words. “Each time you decide to face things on your own without explaining shit we are the ones who deal with the fallout. I'm not letting you get away this time.”

Kim Dokja tried to understand; it wasn't uncommon for Yoo Joonghyuk to shoulder things that didn't belong to him. He'd go through many regressions like a guard dog circling his coop and blame the losses on himself. It was a protection that shouldn't be extended to him, but his nature couldn't be helped.

He had no idea what exactly Han Sooyoung had told him, or which misconceptions he could've formed because of it. He did, however, refuse to burden Yoo Joonghyuk with a penalty that didn't involve him, even more so such an embarrassing one. Just the idea of having to rely on him on this made his skin crawl, despite the forth wall's best efforts.

And truthfully, it was nothing he couldn't resolve on his own. Kim Dokja would even hesitate to call it painful; it was uncomfortable at most. The egg was surely straining his insides and its weight, which was greater than one would assume, was tiring to carry around. Still, there was a huge difference between that and being stabbed to death.

He'd say it was a solid three out of ten.

Either way, it wasn't Yoo Joonghyuk's problem to fix; and he wasn't eager to know what Yoo Joonghyuk's help would look like.

As a last resort, Kim Dokja set a hand on Yoo Joonghyuk's shoulder and reached an arm past him, his intention being opening the door and pushing him out before he could try anything. He had barely grazed the handle when gloved fingers circled his wrist.

“Kim Dokja, let me take care of it.” Inside the small space between their faces, he didn't sound angry anymore; to his ears, he was almost defeated. It made him think of another time and another promise, from a Yoo Joonghyuk who had crossed realms to retrieve a too-out-of-reach Kim Dokja.

Forget trembling, the fourth wall was starting to crack.

Kim Dokja sighed, wondering when Yoo Joonghyuk had learned to weaponize his face like that. “Fine.”

At least, with Yoo Joonghyuk's assistance, the solution should be straightforward enough.

Fourth Wall struggled to survive whatever Kim Dokja's life had become. Much like it, its owner had been stripped of pieces of himself bit by bit. First was the coat, then the pants being pulled down and off, and finally the force of nature that pushed him on the bed, face first, and propped his hips up in the most embarrassing position he had ever been in. By the end, the skill had been reduced to a pathetic wooden fence.

If the pillow he was pressing his face against offered him little comfort while so exposed, Yoo Joonghyuk's invisible presence behind him was doing an even worse job. He didn't know what could be worse; him actually touching him, or the uncertainty of now knowing where he was and what exactly he was looking at. When a warm hand landed on his hip, he couldn't help but startle.

He tried to reign in his heart, build the wall back up as he willed his breathing to remain steady. It was difficult to keep his mind blank as he wanted it. He didn't think about Yoo Joonghyuk, still fully clothed, kneeling right behind him, so close the well-worn leather of his pants rubbed the sides of his legs, and neither did he flinch under the fingers that trailed first down his thighs and then up until they cupped his ass.

Not for the first time, he asked himself why it had to be like this; he would have much prefered for Yoo Joonghyuk to simply cut his stomach open instead. It was by far the easier solution, the logical one that could've saved them so much time, but the face Yoo Joonghyuk had made when he proposed that option had forced him to eat those words back.

There were better ways, he was sure. At least, ways that wouldn't make a fool of him or put Yoo Joonghyuk in such an unfortunate position.

“No lubrication?” A bold finger slid between his cheeks and pulled one aside, exposing his slightly reddened hole to Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes. He clicked his tongue. “Do you enjoy hurting yourself?”

Kim Dokja also wondered where the man of few words had gone now that he needed him the most. He had begun to miss his brooding silence.

“I'm starting to think you have a skewed idea of me.” He muttered, pretty sure Yoo Joonghyuk was able to hear him anyway. “I don't enjoy pain, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

A disagreeing hum came from behind him. He felt him shift on the bed before he spread him properly with both thumbs.  Then there was a guttural sound, and the feeling of something cold landing right on his asshole. Blood dropped from his head faster than a bullet train. Had that bastard just spit on him?

“You certainly act like you do,” Yoo Joonghyuk answered, his fingers more gentle now as they rubbed around his hole, his battle-rugged skin softened by the spit.

It took a moment for Kim Dokja to find his words and choke out a sharp “Don't do that.” And then, because he was sure he'd die if Yoo Joonghyuk did that again, he added, “Lube is in the second drawer.”

If Yoo Joonghyuk snorted at that, Kim Dokja swears he didn't hear it. What he did hear was the drawer opening and closing, and the intimidating sound of the plastic bottle cracking faintly under the pressure of Yoo Joonghyuk's hand. He felt when the lube spilled copiously over his asshole, so cold the shock of it made him yelp in surprise. Did the guy have no consideration? Vengefully, he kicked a leg backwards, hitting one of Yoo Joonghyuk's thighs.

He had expected him to dodge, but the hand on his nape that suffocated him against the pillow came as a surprise. It thankfully left just as abruptly as it came, not even giving him the chance to squirm before finding a new place on his skin. His touch left a trail of goosebumps down his chest, finally stopping above a barely noticeable bump on his stomach, where the golden egg was. Merciless, it pressed down on it.

The sound that leapt from Kim Dokja's mouth was akin to a dying bird. Not unlike one, he flapped an arm to shake off the hold Yoo Joonghyuk had on him. That brute didn't have the decency to warn him or be gentle; that realization only made what was to come more daunting.

Kim Dokja twisted his body with certain difficulty to glare at him. “Would it kill you to have a little bit of tact?”

“Tact doesn't work on you,” he said, like the sadist he was. However, he did take his hand from where it didn't belong, and he was unmistakably gentle when he touched him next. “Be still. I wanted to know where the egg was.”

The first finger slid in easily enough. It made him tense up, but it caused no pain or real discomfort; only a strange sensation that he couldn't compare to the one his own fingers had given him. That was not the issue; it was his head which was too aware of the situation at hand, asking in disbelief what insane amount of probability had to be paid for such a bizarre thing to happen.

With every scrap of Yoo Joonghyuk's finger, that part of him got louder, hyper aware of himself and the eyes on him. Funnily enough, it was also that part of his brain that relished on it, and found itself as thrilled as it was mortified over the loud squelching when Yoo Joonghyuk pulled out and pushed two fingers back in instead.

The bigger stretch burned, putting in evidence the clear contrast between his own size and the length of Yoo Joonghyuk's thicker fingers. Worst of all, it had begun to feel good. 

What had begun as a slow back and forth of the fingers sliding all the way out and sliding back to knuckles deep soon became a strong pace that stole a shuddering gasp out of him. More confident in Kim Dokja's tolerance, they pistoned through him with a force that lit a flame in his belly and brought a tingling sensation to the roof of his mouth.

With shame, he realized his cock had gotten hard, and knew there was no way Yoo Joonghyuk hadn't noticed too. It was a normal bodily response, he tried to rationalize, even as he attempted to and failed to close his legs, held open as they were by Yoo Joonghyuk's knees.

“That's…,” he tried to explain himself, worried that Yoo Joonghyuk could get the wrong idea. Fortunately, he seemed to not care enough for it to become a problem.

“Shut your mouth, Kim Dokja.”

Despite his rudeness, his companion's unoccupied hand slid up his waist and under him. It trailed down until it rested over his lower stomach, rubbing soothing circles on his skin. What to Yoo Joonghyuk looked like a soothing gesture did nothing but put Kim Dokja more on edge; he was sure that if that hand were to graze his dick, he'd come right away.

But release didn't find him like a hand around his cock, nor as scratchy sheets roughly grazing his tip. The release he both dreaded and couldn't help but chase were Yoo Joonghyuk's fingers ramming in deeper and abruptly curling downwards, bumping into something that was certainly not the egg.

A loud, proper moan was ripped out his throat. His elbows gave out and he crumbled like a house of cards, assaulted by the sharp feeling of that persistent itch finally being scratched.

“There! There…! There feels weird!” He choked out, voice anything but even. Before he even realized he was moving away from the overwhelming feeling, the arm that had been caressing him tenderly circled his waist, keeping him in place.“Joonghyuk can you–ough! Can you wait a second? Its-Its too much.”

“I can't help it,” he denied. Then, in a strangely softer tone, “Try to endure it.”

Kim Dokja shook his head, unsure if he would be able to see it from where he was burying it on the bed. “No I can't, you don't get it.” He couldn't, not when, far from giving a break, Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to put extra energy into rubbing his prostate raw. “I will—oooh!”

A billion stars sparkled behind his eyelids and he came hard, his swollen dick emptying itself on the sheets. As an afterthought, he realized it didn't even need to be touched. He kind of felt like crying.

But despite Kim Dokja's worries, Yoo Joonghyuk appeared to care little for it, if he even had noticed. He wasn't sure which was worse for his already bruised dignity.

“You're looser now,” was apparently all he had to say. He told him so in a pleased tone that made something strange bubble inside his belly. As if to prove his point, he shoved in a third finger, closely followed by a fourth. As it seemed, his orgasm didn't earn him a break.

A part of him wished he could still say it felt wrong and clumsy, but he was so sensitive the contact alone made his whole body feel like a live wire. Even worse, his recently spent cock was already twitching with interest. He barely had time to put those thoughts back where they belonged when Yoo Joonghyuk twisted his fingers and thrusted again, making actual tears fill his eyes. 

He felt them wiggle inside him, press in hard and stretch forward. Whatever they were trying to do, it was unsuccessful, and soon Yoo Joonghyuk took them out with a displeased sound.

“Eh? Wha–?” Kim Dokja meant to ask what Yoo Joonghyuk was grumbling about, but was abruptly interrupted by the feeling of fingers sliding in him again. This time, it appeared to be his thumbs, as they hooked on his rim and pulled in opposite directions. He was being spread wide open.

Completely unaware of the mess he was making of Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk explained,“It's too far in. I can't reach it with my fingers.”

“Maybe–Maybe my first idea was better after all,” he rasped with difficulty, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. A new wave of shame hit him as he tried to make sense of how he allowed himself to be put in such a situation. Of how Yoo Joonghyuk had bullied his way in it. “As I told you, it's just bothersome to take it out like this. Listen, the cut doesn't have to be that big and I'll heal quickly. Getting rid of the egg will take barely a second–”

Once again, his idea was shot down before he could finish selling it.

“Stop with that nonsense,” Yoo Joonghyuk said sharply. He had removed his hands from Kim Dokja, but hadn't moved from his place. After a short silence, he said “Try pushing out.”

“You think I haven't tried that already?” He had. He had locked himself in the bathroom and tried for close to an hour, in fact; he had been fighting for his life there. “It didn't work. Why must you be so stubborn?”

Yoo Joonghyuk became quiet all of a sudden. Even without seeing him, Kim Dokja could imagine the many cogs turning in his head.

“There's something we could try,” he said with an unusually hesitant tone that made Kim Dokja immediately suspicious. As he spoke, he shoved four of his fingers back inside and tapped the remaining thumb against his rim.

It took a moment for Kim Dokja's brain to compute what he meant.

“No way.” He quickly turned his head back to glare at him. “No. Not a chance. I let you put a sword through me but you aren't putting your whole hand inside. I'll tear!”

“I'll be gentle,” he promised.

Kim Dokja suffered a full-body shiver. “Don't ever say that again, you sound like the scummy male lead in a romance novel.”

Faced by Kim Dokja's clear skepticism, Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to lose his patience. “Do you prefer to keep that egg inside you forever, then?”

Of course he didn't. However, if he seriously thought about it, it wouldn't be the worst possible outcome either. As uncomfortable as carrying it was, he could tolerate the egg just fine; and if he were to die, his body would regenerate free of the penalty's burden. In any case, it would be better than the joke of a method they were using at the moment. 

His silence must have spoken his train of thought out loud, because Yoo Joonghyuk interrupted him rather angrily. 

“Kim Dokja!”

“Alright!” He finally conceded, more than exasperated. “I didn't say anything! You make such a fuss about nothing, it was just a suggestion.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't seem to want to take it as lightly. “Don't be a reckless idiot,” he chided him. “For you to jeopardize your body like that…Even if you tear, you said you'll heal quickly. So how is this any worse than that?”

Kim Dokja held back his tongue, not believing for a second that Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't seeing the huge difference. 

It was easier for him, when it wasn't his ass on the line, nor was he the one faced by his own weakness upon what should've been a minor penalty. He wouldn't understand that a sword to the gut was far more appealing than the humiliation of having to rely on the person he would want to see him in such a way the least, ruining whatever semblance of respect he had of him. All because of his own mistake.

There was no way for him to explain it, and neither did he have other plans Yoo Joonghyuk would approve of, so he tried to compromise instead. 

“Listen, Yoo Joonghyuk. I'm just as worried about it as you are,” he said, ignoring Yoo Joonghyuk's disbelieving scoff. “I truly am. That's why we should leave our options open. If this doesn't work, we try my idea. How does that sound?”

But Yoo Joonghyuk didn't want to see reason.

“It will work.”

“Sure,” Kim Dokja said, completely unconvinced. Yet despite his lack of faith, he didn't flinch as hard when those hands took hold of him again.

He stood still for it, but Yoo Joonghyuk didn't move.

It occurred to him then that maybe Yoo Joonghyuk was just as hesitant as he was despite being the one suggesting the idea. It was not a concept he'd relate to the protagonist easily, but after all, putting a whole arm inside a man's ass was something worth hesitating over. Feeling a pang of guilt, he twisted his body to rest on his side. It was a bit hypocritical of Yoo Joonghyuk to advocate so stubbornly for one solution and then get cold feet. But as a reader, wasn't it his duty to cheer him on?

“Are you scared you'll hurt me?” He asked with a tilt of his head, only halfway joking. At Yoo Joonghyuk's silence, he forced an amicable smile on his face. “Just don't approach this with the same energy you do everything else and I'll be fine. If anything, I've taken a few fists from you before just fine, haven't I?”

Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes met his for a second and Kim Dokja had the pleasure of seeing one twitch. Ultimately, courting his anger gave the best results, and he started pulling his coat off his shoulders. While he tugged back the right sleeve of his shirt, he said, “Tell me if I hurt you.”

Kim Dokja scoffed, facing the sheets again, but didn't say anything else. He braced for the moment those hands got ahold of his hips again, and the now more than familiar finger slid back there where they had already carved themselves a place.

The push in was not quick like he expected. The thumb slipped right next to the other four fingers with uncharacteristic patience, and retreated before thrusting forward again, opening him up. The knuckles popped in easily enough afterwards, but made Kim Dokja's toes curl as Yoo Joonghyuk's fingers were now pressing firmly against his prostate, no matter how still he kept them. It earned a gasp out of him, a tremble on his lungs that quickly morphed into a sob.

“Breathe,” he was reminded, a silent warning of what was to come next.

There came the difficult part, the one that made his pulse quicken either fear or anticipation; which one exactly, he couldn't tell. He tried not to think about Yoo Joonghyuk's hand, about the muscles in his arm, the way his fingers curled around the handle of a sword—around the thin curve of a neck—or how they tensed while handling it, while handling him.

That hand could certainly break him. He wasn't scared of being torn apart, not as much as he was scared of liking it.

He hissed as his asshole stretched; an agonizing, embarrassing sound crawling up his throat as Yoo Joonghyuk's wide, wide palm bullied its way inside him, steady and without stop, dragging against his walls past the wrist. It stung, but he didn't break; if anything, the easy way in which his body welcomed Yoo Joonghyuk, opening eagerly under his touch, was just another bruise on his pride.

“Fuck!” Kim Dokja screamed suddenly, whole body going tense. 

To his credit, Yoo Joonghyuk stopped moving immediately, likely alarmed, but that only made Kim Dokja grasp at his pillow more desperately, having to endure the unbearable pressure of Yoo Joonghyuk's whole wrist against his still very tender prostate.

Kim Dokja would have yelled at him to move, but his body could do nothing but shake in Yoo Joonghyuk's hold, the sweet pain of overstimulation numbing his brain to the point only gasps could leave his lips.

No no don't stop don't stop go on–,” was what finally slurred out of his mouth between a mess of whimpers. 

He almost worried Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn't catch any of that, but he seemed to understand, because the next thing he knew was that his ridiculous big arm was sliding deeper, grinding hard against all his best spots and his head was buried on his pillow, a low groan muffled against the damp cotton.

He breathed out through clenched teeth, struggling in vain to keep back sounds with Yoo Joonghyuk's finally getting his forearm all the way in. He had spent a good amount of time staring at those forearms before, but never had them seemed so big as now that his hole was wet and twitching around one of them.

Then there was silence, interrupted only by their breathing and his own heart beating against his ears. He kind of felt like bursting out laughing; if at himself or the whole situation, he wasn't sure.

“Kim Dokja.” Strangely, Yoo Joonghyuk's voice sounded tight, almost as affected as he himself was. “Are you okay?”

Upon opening his mouth, he realized that there was too much drool inside it for him to form any clear sentence. He swallowed down his dry throat as best as he could.

“Yeah-nghh…aah…yes. ‘M fine. Fine.” He managed to articulate. He was alright, and he was dizzy, a bit out of it; feeling so hot he almost wondered if he had somehow gotten a heatstroke.

“Don't lie to me. Are you sure?”

Whatever left his mouth next slipped out of his head the moment it parted from his lips. His answer could have been “good” as much as it could have been “stuffed” or “die, Yoo Joonghyuk”, but he found it difficult to care about it when the appendage inside him was moving again.

It sent him buckling back so hard his ass bumped into Yoo Joonghyuk's thighs, and that's how he felt it, and if someone had hit his head with a brick. If he hadn’t been overheating since long before, he would have blushed.

“You're hard?!” He squeaked in disbelief. 

Turning his head around, he searched for Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes, but he didn't meet his face; the bastard even pretended not to hear him, ignoring his question completely. However, the boner was unmistakably real; as Kim Dokja pushed himself backwards on his arm, it dragged and rubbed against his thigh, leaving behind a trail of warmth even through the leather.

Behind him, Yoo Joonghyuk became as silent and stiff as a statue. When he called him again, he didn't answer except to say “Stay put. You're going to get yourself hurt.”

But Kim Dokja wasn't listening to him anymore. He was lost in the tangled mess inside his head, trying to make heads and tails of the impossible possibility that Yoo Joonghyuk could be aroused in a situation just as theirs. Because it wasn't sexual. It couldn't be sexual because Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't interested in men like that and certainly not in him of all people. 

“N-no, wait a second, Yoo Joonghyuk–”. Kim Dokja's next words dissolved in a whine at the feeling of his insides straining to make space for Yoo Joonghyuk spreading fingers. His guts spread too, soft and accommodating to the curious prodding fingers that stretched them full and thin.

When their prodding proved unsuccessful, the fingers backed away, and with them so did Yoo Joonghyuk's whole arm slowly slip out, the now foreign emptiness in his guts making Kim Dokja groan. When only the hand remained inside, the arm plunged the rest back in, and Kim Dokja wailed his throat raw.

“I found it.” Yoo Joonghyuk announced, as if Kim Dokja hadn't felt his fingertips hitting hard against the egg, shoving it—what it felt like–all the way up Kim Dokja's throat. “But I don't have a good grip on it.”

Kim Dokja, whose face was hidden in his own arms, groaned deeply. “’Course you don't,” he panted heavily, blinking back tears. Because of course it wouldn't be that easy, things were never easy once Yoo Joonghyuk got involved. “Fuck! J-just grab it.”

Yoo Joonghyuk clicked his tongue. “Shut it. It's not easy with you strangling my arm, I can hardly move,” he complained gruffly, but did comply.

He pulled away again, albeit more gently, until Kim Dokja's asshole clinged stubbornly to his wrist and then thrusted all the way in, hard enough his face got shoved against the bed. 

It was an universal truth that Yoo Joonghyuk was undoubtedly good at anything he tried his hand in, but this might be the exception. Each push and pull, far from succeeding on grabbing the egg, did nothing but push it further and further up and away from his probing fingers.

Such great dedication was admirable, but it did nothing good to Kim Dokja.

Flat against the bed, he had no strength left in his arms to do anything else but moan and hold onto the pillow under his chin and the messy sheets with every strong thrust from Yoo Joonghyuk. He couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed anymore, as desperate as he was to find release. He wanted to come.

“Hurry,” Kim Dokja urged, his arousal growing back at his companion's insistent efforts. Desperate, he parted his legs further apart and pushed back against Yoo Joonghyuk in an effort to help him reach deeper. “Hurryhurryhurryhurry.”

His cock was leaking already, clear cum dripping slowly as it hung uselessly, waving to the rhythm of Yoo Joonghyuk rocking him into the mattress, every thrust bringing him a step closer to an edge he was afraid of reaching again. But he wanted it, so bad, and just the thought of who was the man giving it to him, rubbing his insides raw, had him biting his tongue to avoid saying his name.

But just as he was nearing it, his orgasm was cruelly stopped. He barely kept a sob from escaping between his lips.

“This won't work,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, oblivious. He slipped out his ass with a wet pop, leaving him gaping. 

His head was reeling, clouded by the intense crash after being so high up. A few moments passed before he could put more than two words together.

“Nggh…told you, you jerk,” Kim Dokja panted, shivering slightly. At that point, he just prayed for Yoo Joonghyuk to get the stubbornness out of his system and leave. The egg was an afterthought; once alone, he could finish himself off and then deal with the issue on his own. "Are you done now?” 

Yoo Joonghyuk hummed as if considering it but then one of his arms shot forward, grabbing him around his shoulders. Kim Dokja had a second to be confused before his vision blurred and suddenly he was upright, back to Yoo Joonghyuk's chest and practically sitting on his lap. It took him a moment to adjust to the new position and realize exactly what had happened.

Whatever opinions he could have about being manhandled without warning, as hot as it was, were interrupted by Joonghyuk's knees pushing in between his, spreading his legs apart. 

By then, Yoo Joonghyuk had touched him in places he had never thought about himself, and yet he hadn't gotten so close as he was at that moment; never had it felt so intimate. Holding him like that, he felt larger than he actually was, and hot even through his clothes. The leather of his jacket was sticking to Kim Dokja's sweaty back. The worst of it was his mouth, brushing against his nape every time he moved.

“Dokja…,” he almost whispered. If the fourth wall had survived until then, it would have crumbled in that very second. “Look here, fool. If I push here,” he said. His formerly warm hand felt almost cold on his heated skin now, resting in the soft place just below his sternum. It pressed down on it, so roughly that Kim Dokja gasped painfully. The movement, however, had also pushed the slight protrusion on his belly to move further down. “It'll move down.”

“Ough that's…,” he panted, eyes closed. “That's weird. Feels weird.”

“It'll be faster,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. His other hand, who had been resting on his thigh, ventured closer between his legs. Belatedly, Kim Dokja realized that arm, still shiny and sticky with lube up until the thick forearm, had been the one inside him. 

His head fell back on Yoo Joonghyuk's shoulder when the arm thrusted in again, his whole body arching against the firm muscle of the chest behind him. It felt different that way, somehow, it was like being breached for the first time all over again, but he was already sensitive; the new angle doing nothing but making him squirm more with each inch pushed inside.

Now that they didn't have sheets where to tangle themselves, his hands were desperately trying to latch on whatever he had near, which happened to be Yoo Joonghyuk. His nails sunk into his biceps and one of his wrists, deep enough to surely leave marks behind. It was difficult to care, though, when Yoo Joonghyuk had left his brand on him in multiple ways already. If anything, it was deserved.

He doubted Yoo Joonghyuk would think the same. But he was trying best not to think about what could be going on in that stupid head of his; precisely, on how he might look like at the moment in Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes. At least before he wasn't as exposed, but now he knew Yoo Joonghyuk could see all of him flushed and aroused, that he was looking at him, who had become a total mess under his hands, and he couldn't begin to imagine what he must be thinking of him.

Kim Dokja whimpered when the arm slid further in, and it felt like the egg was going to move up again, but Yoo Joonghyuk's hand was already there, firmly pressing down on the bump on his stomach, pushing it towards Yoo Joonghyuk's awaiting hand. He realised there was no place to muffle his moans either, not with his face so close to his and his hands busy on Yoo Joonghyuk's arms. Anything leaving his lips was out in the open for him to hear.

Kim Dokja whined, and felt worse for it. But it was not like it was the worst of it; he was dripping so much, twitching uncontrollably even though the grasp Yoo Joonghyuk had on him was getting tighter. It was obvious that Kim Dokja was aroused by it. It was mortifying, but even if he complained there was no mistake that he was enjoying it, and Yoo Joonghyuk knew, he had to know.

Maybe the fact that he could feel his erection repeatedly shoving against his ass should've helped with some of the shame he still felt, but it didn't; the vague smugness he felt over managing to steal any kind of reaction from him made him nothing but guiltier.

“I got it,” Yoo Joonghyuk finally said, sounding almost relieved. Kim Dokja couldn't help but notice that he was short of breath too.

Blinking away the tears in his eyes, he gulped before opening his mouth. “Then get it out,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

He had believed himself to be already thoroughly stretched out, and only realized how wrong he was when the egg, tugged along by that devious hand and its own weight, started to truly open his insides. As if struck by lighting, his eyes shot open as he tensed fully, a high-pitched, ugly sound escaping his throat. It was like he had lost all control over his body; he trashed around, only held together by Yoo Joonghyuk's hands on him.

“Nghh! N-nnono No! Waiit,” he blurted out, an incredulous smile tugging awkwardly at his lips as he dissolved into messier and messier sounds. “Joonghyuk!”

"Stay put, Kim Dokja.” He demanded, as if Kim Dokja had any actual control over it. But he couldn't, because it felt too good and it was like being light itself; he was burning up from the inside. Yoo Joonghyuk, however, had little patience for it. “Kim Dokja.”

And then it got worse, much worse, because he kept pushing down and then his fingers twisted inside; they spread to grab it better and in the process bumped his prostate, ripping another cry out of him. Soon it was not only the hand on his prostate, but the egg pressing heavily on it too, and Kim Dokja felt like he could explode in any minute, reduced to a fine dust in Yoo Joonghyuk's grip.

“I said don't move, Kim Dokja.” In a fluid movement, Yoo Joonghyuk hooked an arm behind both of his knees and pulled his legs up against his chest, effectively bending Kim Dokja in half. He yelped, but hardly had time to process it before he was tugging hard, arm going in and out inside him fast. 

He was crying freely at that point, distantly aware of the tears wetting his face or the drool dripping out his open mouth. All his tongue could do was repeat the same name again and again against Yoo Joonghyk's neck, wishing for him to either stop or go harder. He wasn't even sure if he wanted it to be over or to go on forever.

With a grunt, Yoo Joonghyuk finally managed to yank his hand out and the egg followed, stretching out his hole more than his arm had. Kim Dokja tensed, mind going completely blank, and came all over himself.

He could have passed out, the world blurring out into nothingness as if a switch had been turned off. When he blinked back into awareness, he was resting on his side and not on Yoo Joonghyuk like he expected. He was soon made aware of someone touching him, massaging his arms and back softly before sliding lower. The same fingers responsible for his discomfort rubbed his sensitive asshole gently into a pleasant numbness.

That was, of course, Yoo Joonghyuk. Any other moment, and Kim Dokja would've probably kicked him away or said something to drive him off. But he felt as if every limb weighed a ton, and honestly couldn't bring himself to care that much about it. 

“Kim Dokja,” he called, once he realised he was awake. 

He made a faint sound in the back of his throat and, when it came out raspy, he coughed, feeling it dry and tender. “It's out, right?”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't answer, but then his hand was in front of his face, holding the golden egg. It was big, but smaller than it had felt inside him. It glistened, wet with lube and his own fluids; under the room's warm light, it gave the impression of being glowing. Kim Dokja glared at it until it left his vision.

A distant, tired part of his mind was expecting to be left alone after that, for Yoo Joonghyuk to depart in silence and for them not to talk of it never again, and it startled when the bed dipped next to him as Yoo Joonghyuk laid down, his jacket and boots put away somewhere. 

It was almost disconcerting to be met by that face that close again, and to notice that it wasn't as put together as it had started. Yoo Joonghyuk was more flushed than Kim Dokja had ever seen him, and as he moved closer, laying next to him so near their sides were flush together, he could see the faint shine on his skin; he had sweated to the point some of his hair was sticking to his forehead.

Ignoring the sudden urge to brush those curls aside, Kim Dokja dragged a hand over his own very sweaty face instead.

Wordlessly, Yoo Joonghyuk reached for the covers at the end of the bed and tugged them back up until they covered Kim Dokja, who hadn't even realized he was still trembling. Weirdly enough, his arm stayed there, resting over his waist.

It was strange. While Yoo Joonghyuk and him weren't the touchy kind, they had been closer than most; they had held each other and fought each other with bloody fists. Under the effects of the omniscient reader's viewpoint, they had been one and the same. And yet, that arm around his back in a poor imitation of an embrace had his head clouding slightly. 

It was nice, comforting almost, and he would have been emotionally moved if it weren't for the erection poking against his thigh. 

Kim Dokja couldn't possibly blush more than he already was, but his heart did miss a beat. He was such a pervert; he couldn't help but look down and stare at it. He tried not to blame himself; it put into the same position, anyone would struggle not to steal a peak, it was only natural.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he called before he could stop himself.

“Hm?” He asked lazily, as he had apparently also begun to doze off.

Kim Dokja didn't have the words to begin to say what he wanted to do, so he didn't. His hand moved from under the pillow and down there where Yoo Joonghyuk's belt was gone and his pants were unbuttoned and open, his erection straining against his underwear. Yoo Joonghyuk's breath hitched, but he didn't stop him or curse him off. 

This was just like returning a favor, Kim Dokja told himself. He had put Yoo Joonghyuk in an uncomfortable position and he was helping him out. A handjob was hardly anything difficult to do after whatever had happened just before. And Yoo Joonghyuk had, intentionally or not, gotten him off twice, so it was only fair.

The underwear was a mess of precum, but Yoo Joonghyuk was still hard; his cock stood tall and leaking copiously, so red and swollen it looked painful. He hissed sharply at Kim Dokja's undeniably clumsy touch, but quickly let out a deep moan as he hid his face on the bend of Kim Dokja's neck, which he took as a go ahead.

It was hot under his skin, slippery and bigger than he had assumed. He would have been self conscious about it, if he hadn't been witness to Yoo Joonghyuk's perfection. More than an offense against his own pride, being privy to the weight of Yoo Joonghyuk's cock in his hand felt like an undeserved reward, as much as it did the hiss breathed into his ear when he squeezed his way down to the base and up.

“Slowly.” Yoo Joonghyuk instructed, his lips brushing against his pulse point. His obedience earned him another hot grunt and teeth on his skin. “That's good. Good, Dokja.”

The sweet praise sent a shiver down his spine and blood towards his face. He didn't think he had ever heard something similar from Yoo Joonghyuk, not like that anyway. To him, who didn't feel particularly liked by him, it was strange to see what kind of reaction he could get just from touching him.

Somewhat fascinated by the veins under his palm, he traced them with his thump up to the tip, squeezing and making Yoo Joonghyuk moan. It was a new sound from him, one that had Kim Dokja repeating the motion until Yoo Joonghyuk went from hiding on his shoulder to sinking his teeth on it. After that, it took barely a few pumps for him to shiver hard against him and come all over his hand, a gasp sounding too similar to his name whispered against his throat. 

Despite having done nothing, Kim Dokja felt similarly shaken. Tentatively, he looked to his right, where Yoo Joonghyuk was staring at him. Dazedly, he stared back, suddenly mesmerized both by the realization of what he had just done and the fact that he now knew how Yoo Joonghyuk's handsome face looked after an orgasm, and didn't see the kiss coming until his mouth was already on his own.

His first reflex was to jerk back, but those lips chased after his, and Kim Dokja came to the conclusion that he was being incoherent; there he was, clinging to another man, half naked and stretched out, with a hand covered in his cum but shying away from a simple kiss. And maybe Yoo Joonghyuk got clingy after coming; originally, he was meant to be someone who only had sex when feelings were involved. Then who was he to deny him a kiss?

After that, melting into it was easy. Even his lack of experience wasn't a problem; Yoo Joonghyuk was more than eager to lead, licking into his mouth with enthusiasm but bringing him close with gentle hands. While his teeth bit onto Kim Dokja's lips and his tongue pushed in so deep it had him whining, his fingers threaded softly through his hair. His other hand was a ghostly presence on his back, sliding down his naked spine so lovingly that it made him sigh in between kisses, all of him becoming little less than a malleable doll in his hold.

His embrace was warm, a soothing balm to Kim Dokja's aching muscles that held him together, and the kiss felt so good he wanted to keep kissing him forever. It was no wonder people constantly fell to Yoo Joonghyuk's feet; if that was what being his lover felt like, anyone would fall in love.

It was a shame that keeping his eyes open was becoming harder and harder with every blink. The light kisses being peppered over his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose weren’t helping at all, if not to make him sleepier. He hummed contently, and thought that it'd be nice to go to sleep just like that every night.

The thought startled him so much he bumped his forehead against Yoo Joonghyk's collarbone to keep his brain quiet. 

As he fell asleep, he could faintly hear Yoo Joonghyuk talking to him, but Kim Dokja's eyelids felt heavy and the words reaching his ears held no meaning to his tired brain. Whatever he was telling him, it would have to wait until the next day.

Omake

Han Sooyoung squinted incredulously at the item that was about to be put for auction in the dokkaebi bag. “There's no way anyone is gonna pay for this after knowing where it came from.”

Kim Dokja hummed. “You'd be surprised.”

“Are you kidding? What kind of perverted and sick individual would–”

An alarming quantity of notifications chimed in, cutting her off.

[Demon-like Judge of fire is offering 1000 coins.]

[A constellation who decided to remain anonymous is offering 1500 coins.]

[Constellation Devil of Lust and Wrath is offering 3000 coins.]

[Constellation Mass Production Maker is offering 5000 coins and a deal for mass production.]

[Constellation Mass Production Maker says this is an offer you shouldn't pass on.]

[Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire is digging into her savings account.]

[Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire is offering 10000 coins.]

[Constellation Secretive Plotter is offering 100000 coins.]

“Holy shit. Nevermind then.”