regression | DUO ✦ INBOX (un: yjh)

[ They both don't know or understand why Dokja is acting this way. Joonghyuk can churn out plenty of reasons or excuses, most coming down to Dokja as a person—how the man properly introduced himself on that day where Joonghyuk questioned if their world, the people they love, if all they suffered and celebrated meant anything to the other man.

Kim Dokja. Was twenty-eight, an employee of a game company. His hobby was reading web novels. Pathetic, in that own man's words, but all Joonghyuk saw at the time was the person he called his companion. The betrayal doesn't sting like it did... It has dulled with silent understanding, not forgiveness, as a salve. Some stories are difficult abandon. Some stories are a person's salvation.

His gaze goes nowhere. His dark eyes stay on Dokja, tinged with stifled longing and fondness. Once upon a time Dokja was the brightest star in their sky. This story was their salvation, warm and full of love... Yet cruel and distant. ]

Stop overthinking it.

[ Because where is the blame...? Hasn't this debt that he has heard Dokja reference sparingly here and there been paid with his life multiple times? Hasn't this cycle of saving each other been enough? He reaches out, like the many times he has, and brushes the back of Dokja's neck before supporting it, not too different from the multiple times he grabbed him by the throat. The handling is gentle, placement of fingers deliberate, and he tilts his head enough for their lips to meet without obstacle.

It's quick, light, and barely worth any thought or mention. A writer would describe it as them bumping their faces from a stumble.

What is heavy with emotion is the embrace Joonghyuk draws. By the small of Dokja's back, he holds him close and rests his head on his shoulder, buried like whatever expression swathed around his features. Seldom are they alone... Seldom has he been alone with Sooyoung, too. Those moments would remind him of the discrepancies between their group, the gap between them that has grown where they couldn't see it, the future that is only known to themselves yet not the other. There's only one comfort—this Kim Dokja is whole. It comes with despair, anyway—like Han Sooyoung, Uriel, and possibly Jung Heewon, this Kim Dokja is not the one he knows.

You're alone.

Joonghyuk holds onto Dokja tighter, desperate, as he hushes his Shadow who slips away. To see your goal manifest here, full-fledged and tangible, is that a curse or a blessing? There are many questions, many he wished didn't exist. They shouldn't exist. He had thought Dokja opened up to them ever since his proper introduction... But maybe he was wrong. ]

[ When the kiss finally comes, the world doesn't end with it. Dokja's ill-prepared for the moment, but that doesn't matter. It's entirely fleeting, a quick brush of their lips, and then it's over. He could have almost dreamed it if not for what follows after, Joonghyuk embracing him in such a tender, unfamiliar way that Dokja's left at a loss for how to react.

He's stiff at first, heart pounding so hard that it's certain to be felt between them as white noise fills his ears and his wide eyes stare at a point past Joonghyuk's shoulder. This is a gentleness that Dokja is unaccustomed to. It leaves him with questions, but most of all, it leaves him with a strange sense of yearning that tugs uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach. And why wouldn't it? He'd been prepared to lose everything before coming here, stepped forward to the edge of a precipice with the heavy understanding that he was needed elsewhere.

Anything. Anything to pay back the debt that's owed, the lives lost, the world lines destroyed. And Yoo Joonghyuk...

Yoo Joonghyuk. His savior, his survival. The reason he could wake up every day, the name he would chant as he curled in on himself, arms over his head and knees to his chest, as he waited for the pain to stop. The person that would greet him on both his loneliest days and his happiest days. A story that he loved enough that he could forget the unfairness of the world around him. Someone who he thought could understand him for all the injustice and cruelty the world dealt to Joonghyuk in the same manner.

Only for Dokja to have been that very world.

There's a tightness in his throat that makes it hard to breathe as he lowers his face to hide it against Joonghyuk's shoulder. His arms remain uselessly hanging by his sides, as if afraid to touch any more than he already has. If only there was some way to make it right... If only there was more he could do. ]

I'm...

[ His voice breaks, emotions overpowering him as he forces his knees not to buckle from underneath him. There's so much that he wants to say, so much that he wants to convey, but none of it feels like enough. He's a ghost here, powerless and aimless. A haunting reminder for everyone else to suffer through. ]

[ He isn't sure how Dokja would have reacted... It wasn't too long ago since he has seen him, or at least a part of him, so he can easily imagine an unwelcome reaction. It would be full of bravado, maybe some ridicule and teasing to hide how awkward this must be. He was always a man full of secrets, someone who preferred to squirrel away into his phone, his thoughts, or behind his stupid pensive expression.

... But are those words a start of his true feelings? His thoughts realized, formed into the beginning of a sentence? Joonghyuk's embrace becomes tighter, desperate, laced with fears that this Dokja doesn't understand or know. Maybe he should. They're recurring hauntings.

Despite aggravation and sorrow coursing through his veins, he hangs off of Dokja's voice, straining his ears hoping to catch anything. Maybe, just maybe, he can glean the truth here. Maybe that can keep him and their companions company in the following years in the hell they call scenarios. ]

[ The words continue to escape him. None of it feels like enough. He finds himself running through the different things he could say, the apologies, the begging for forgiveness, the understanding, the request for an acceptance of what has yet to come. All of it unspoken as he feels Joonghyuk's hold on him tighten, Dokja's heart between them hammering to the point where he can feel it reverberate throughout his entire being.

Quietly, carefully, Dokja finally moves. He raises an arm, then another to rest them against Joonghyuk's wide backside. How he's come to depend on this reliable back, how he's learned to follow after it in a desperate bid to live what he'd always thought to be a meaningless life.

And how much he had wanted it to see his most desired ending. ]

... I wish I had been there.

[ And how much he had selfishly wanted to see that ending with everyone in turn. ]

[ With embrace returned, his form slackens more, leaning onto Dokja sluggishly with his weight. Dokja's words tell him something—the plans were already in motion. It was inevitable... And they follows him with justified doubts, yet not enough vigilance to predict and prevent what's to come, what came. Joonghyuk doesn't know if this brings him comfort, but there is some relief.

If he were to trust those words... Then Dokja wishes he was with them. Suspicions rise again, but his heart clings onto optimistic thoughts. It's enough to usher something into his shoulder, soft and muffled. ]

Wait for me.

[ Atop Dokja's selfish confession is his own. ]

[ It's a request that threatens to break Dokja, a sharp stinging immediate to the corners of his eyes as he squeezes them shut, throat impossibly tight while his arms pull Joonghyuk even closer as if holding on to a lifeline.

He hadn't wanted this, this spark of hope from just three words. But it builds and builds like an especially dangerous fire that can't be put out. What a cruel thing to do him, Dokja thinks. But it's fine if it comes from the very man who should be allowed every cruel action and word for what Dokja's put him through. If he wants to inflict the pain of hope, so be it. It'll war with the despair coiled around the reality of his situation, that someone has to read that story and how that someone has to be him.

Just like before on the subway, a half-truth formulates. ]

I'll wait.

[ And watch, and read, and dream. ]

[ Hope is what drove Joonghyuk to suffer all those regressions and hope will sustain him longer, perhaps forever. It's difficult to measure how important Dokja's answer is to him. It's not exactly what he wishes to hear, but it's enough. It's cruel of Dokja to say enough.

Joonghyuk thinks back to his speech at the industrial complex as they were transitioning to the final scenario... It was given to the masses, but he had wished it to reach the ears of his companions. He promised not to throw away his life, so they shouldn't throw theirs. Did that reach Dokja? He wishes to ask him. If he were to repeat it, would Dokja listen to him now? How many times must they repeat to him in many different words and ways—live. If not for himself, then for them... Because they love him.

These thoughts run in his head as he continues to rest against him, holding him close like he didn't point a sword at him earlier. The sprite seems pleased by all of this, if not teary-eyed at this scene. ]

... This isn't the same, but we did get to live in a big house.

[ Trying to... Transition to normalcy despite how heavy the questions and emotions unsaid and unexplained are. Unfortunately, there are things Joonghyuk will keep inside forever. ]

[ Ah. He's suddenly glad they're not facing each other with the devastation that's sure to be written all over his expression. There's heartbreak, too, the dream that he's always wanted at the very tips of his fingers, but too far away to properly grasp. It's not even a wall that separates him from them this time, but a glass window where he can only look in from the outside.

It's torture, yes, but he can't stop the trembling of his shoulders as he struggles to hold back a delirious laugh at the elation of such a mundane thing after everything they've been through. What a strange feeling it is to have both joy and a cutting sadness joined together in his heart, and he can't help the small laugh that escapes him even as it breaks off into what could be a strangled sob. ]

Oh...?

[ His voice is muffled against Joonghyuk's shoulder, eyes still closed tight as if he can't trust them to be open while he imagines all the people he loves living together in the big house of his dreams. Desperately, hungrily, he wants to know more despite knowing it would be a mistake to ask. ]

Did you manage to take the kids to the Han River like they wanted?

[ Joonghyuk had meant here, in the Netherworld. It isn't perfect—they're missing so many people that they have grown to cherish—but it's close. The days have passed by, mundane with only some intricacies from this setting, and he has learned to silently appreciate and enjoy their time here.

He can only hope that in the end, in the conclusion he's seeking, that they can live like this, too. ]

We did. [ ... Has Dokja ever suffered a squeeze in a hug that threatens his last breath out of him. ] You need to learn how to cook.

[ Help, he needs to breathe.

That hug might squeeze out his breath, but it gets a forced laugh out of him as well. This is... still so incredibly surreal to Dokja, but he doesn't want to pull away. Doesn't want to think of anything at all besides the warmth that grows from their physical contact, and the way he's being held like he's some kind of precious thing. What a foreign feeling. ]

Are you going to teach me?

[ There's a teasing quality to his voice, but he's fully expecting Joonghyuk to say no. In fact, he's banking on it because Joonghyuk teaching him how to cook sounds disastrous and stressful. ]

DUO ✦ INBOX (un: yjh)

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i didn't lose this tag wdym