Chapter Text
8
"...Thankfully, with the security footage we've collected over the past six months, we can build a strong case. Your ex-husband has been spotted in and out of the building since last month, blatantly violating his restraining order."
Attorney Yoo Sangah maintained a cool facade as she flipped through the document, the tip of her pen marking miscellaneous lines of paragraph with blue ink. There were countless documents strewn across the coffee table, and piled at the very top was a thick, brown file.
"Additionally, upper management has verified that he has threatened to first buy, and then outright demolish the building if reception didn't give him access. Out of concern for the other residents, they let him up."
This caught Joonghyuk's attention. Dokja, who looked oddly calm for someone who had just been intruded — no less by his stalker ex — merely picked up his mug, his lips perched on the rim. He had changed into something more presentable, locked the backdoor, and called for his lawyer as soon as his ex-husband fled the villa in a fit of rage. He had neither talked, nor looked his way in the time since; which, inevitably, put Joonghyuk in a bind.
"The other residents? So they let him up so he could harass me, instead?" Dokja scoffed. "Such commendable hospitality."
Sangah gave a resigned sigh. "Rest assured, the receptionist has been promptly laid off. In other words, in Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi's case, we can rule it as self-defence. Your ex-husband knows that we have the evidence stacked against him, and he will most likely not be pressing charges." This, she emphasised with a sidelong look towards Joonghyuk, who could only bristle in his seat.
He wasn't sure whether he should speak up in this situation. In the end, he nodded his head stiffly, and kept his head low.
Beside him, Dokja dropped his mug with a chuckle, placing the brown file on his lap. He rummaged through it leisurely before continuing, "He won't, but I can't say the same about his family. Those blood-sucking parasites are more litigious than any client I've ever had the displeasure to deal with, and they're aiming for more than just the alimony." With a drawn-out exhale, he tossed the entire file back onto the table. "Find a way to expedite the process. I can't bear having to meet them in court any longer."
"I'll see what I can do." Gathering the papers, Sangah appeared to be deep in thought. "But if I may advise, I suggest you stay away from the villa for the time being, Dokja-ssi. I'm aware you've just moved, but he's already gotten your address from his associates. After sustaining such...grievous injury, there's no telling what he'd do."
In quite a terrifying manner, Dokja's voice dropped an octave lower. "No, I won't move. Biyoo was just getting used to this place. I can't put my daughter through that again."
Joonghyuk got a vague sense that convincing Dokja otherwise was a lost cause, so he tuned out the rest of their conversation. It soon devolved into rather serious legal talks, so he left for the kitchen and busied himself with lunch preparations.
Their discussion ran for long, which gave Joonghyuk ample time to properly stew in his thoughts. He kept himself preoccupied with cleaning and de-shelling a kilogram of flower crabs. It was as he was wrist-deep in soy sauce marinade when Sangah rapped on the door, beckoning him for a short talk.
"Dokja-ssi's final court hearing is in two weeks' time." She crossed her arms, keeping a stern tone. "In the meantime, keep yourself on the down-low. Having an affair is not a good look, at least until the divorce is officially settled."
"But I'm not—"
"I know. Otherwise, I would have long known." Briefly, Sangah glanced behind her, before continuing, "To be honest, I hadn't pegged Dokja to be the type to go for someone younger. Way younger. How old are you again?"
Joonghyuk answered with a shrug, "21."
A perfectly-filled brow shot up past Sangah's bangs. "Right. You're not even out of college. Besides, you have yet to go for military service."
Not choosing to interject, Joonghyuk mirrored her stern expression.
"What I'm saying is, you're still young. And as Dokja-ssi's attorney, I have the right to determine whether you're pursuing a relationship for the right reasons."
It took Joonghyuk longer to arrange his thoughts this time around. Sangah's eyes flitted between the kitchen counter, and Joonghyuk's apron, looking absolutely domestic. Alarm bells rang in her ears, but she suppressed the urge to interrogate the younger man any further for fear of overstepping her boundaries.
Finally, Joonghyuk said, "I applied as Dokja-hyung's private chef honestly. I haven't once asked for more than my allotted pay. I even have a hard time accepting my allowance most days, because it gives me the impression that he doesn't really know how much things cost."
Meeting her eyes, Joonghyuk's gaze sharpened. He took half a step forward, nearly towering over Sangah and casting her in his shadow. Predictably, Sangah's eyelids quivered, and she glanced side-to-side before reluctantly backing away.
"Dokja-hyung may be frivolous, careless, and a little bit clueless, but he's selfless. He's cared for me as much as he does Biyoo, and he's too generous for his own good. But I know that all of it is done with good intent." With great resolve, Joonghyuk concluded, "That's why I want to be with him. He deserves someone who can take care of him, too."
Sangah's conflicted expression gradually morphed into one of understanding. "I see. I get why he's so willing to indulge you, Joonghyuk-ssi." She laughed, before waving Joonghyuk away. "You're a charming one. I suppose you're someone who’s spoilt for choice?"
He shook his head. "No, it's hyung that I want. I only want to be with Dokja-hyung."
"Then I can only advise you up to here." She held out a finger in an admonishing gesture. "However, do take care to remember who I am. If anything were to happen to my client, or his inheritance, you'd better lawyer up."
This sufficiently shut Joonghyuk up, and he stayed rooted to the floor as Sangah flashed him a million-watt smile, swivelled around, and skipped to Dokja's side without a trace of her earlier animosity. Joonghyuk let go of the breath he hadn't realised had caught in his throat, and smoothly returned to his own duties.
Not long after the elevators rang, a pair of arms enveloped Joonghyuk's waist, accompanied with a soft sigh and a light pressure on the centre of his back. Dokja nuzzled into Joonghyuk's shirt, basking in the Sun-kissed musk that came with his natural scent.
Like this, they stayed in place — until Joonghyuk peeled off his plastic gloves, stained with chilli paste, and turned around to take Dokja in his arms. Somehow, Dokja melted even further into his chest, their scents mingling with one another, and their hearts beating in tandem. He kept his eyes closed, and hummed a nondescript tune as Joonghyuk scratched at his nape, itching for a bite.
Dokja, in all his omniscience, seemed to have read Joonghyuk's mind; and so he drew back, narrowing his eyes at Joonghyuk's lovesick expression. "I'm sorry you had to get involved, Joonghyuk-ie."
"It's alright, hyung." If he wasn't going to inadvertently insert himself into Dokja's woes, he would've crash-landed his way in regardless.
"But you hurt your hand." Dokja clasped his hand around Joonghyuk's right first. He leaned down, placing a kiss on the knuckles.
Answering this came naturally to Joonghyuk: "I would do worse for you, hyung. As long as you're safe."
In return, he dropped a kiss on Dokja's brow bone, the corner of his eye, and full on the lips. Swallowing a giggle, Dokja responded in kind, angling his head so Joonghyuk could hold him tighter, leaving him dazed. For a while, they merely exchanged kisses, and only Joonghyuk dared to prod with his tongue, leaving kittenish licks along Dokja's bruised lips. When he brought a knee between Dokja's legs, Dokja let out a surprised gasp, allowing Joonghyuk to delve into his mouth, licking up and around Dokja's tongue and the roof of his mouth.
Amidst their prolonged kiss, Dokja mumbled, "Where'd you learn that trick?"
"You." Joonghyuk bit lightly at Dokja's bottom lip. And then, he left a scalding kiss, "Everything," and another, "I learned," and another, "is for you."
He ended the kiss with both hands over Dokja's ass, squeezing firmly and hitching him further up his front. As Dokja struggled to respond, Joonghyuk dragged his lips down the side of his neck, carving love-bites on the bend of his neck and shoulder.
"I really shouldn't have invited you over today, huh?" Dokja hissed around a particularly harsh bite on his collarbone. "Are you pissed that we got interrupted, Hyuk-ah?"
Without giving him time to answer, Dokja peeled himself off of Joonghyuk, and sank down to his knees. A knowing smirk split his face as he looked up at Joonghyuk, looking no less innocent than a harmless doe.
Needless to say, all of Joonghyuk's blood rushed to his groin, and he gulped in anticipation. Tugging on the linen shorts Joonghyuk had previously changed into, Dokja opened his mouth into a scandalous 'o', and stuck out his tongue. Flashes of images conjured in Joonghyuk's deepest, darkest fantasies overlapped with the sight before — below — him, of Dokja on his knees, mouth full of Joonghyuk's cock, and with a palpable bulge down his throat from where Joonghyuk lodged himself in deep and hard.
"Let's finish where we left off, hm?"
Joonghyuk's fridge had fallen over his eyes. He nodded profusely; near mindlessly.
A chuckle and a harsh tug later, Dokja delivered Joonghyuk straight to heaven.
(And he tried — he really tried — to keep his hands to himself. Yet his body had a mind of its own, and he found his hands tangling into Dokja's roots, stilling his head as he thrusted roughly into his face, and feeling the tip of his cock catch onto the edge of Dokja's soft palate. The sounds that came from Dokja's throat were downright sinful, and were enough to fuel Joonghyuk's lust-driven benders for years to come.
Dokja's face while taking cock, he later learned, was one not even his most depraved of imaginations could envision. His eyes grew crossed at every hit on the back of his throat, and his sweet moans vibrated up his length to pleasure him at the base. No part of Joonghyuk was left untouched as Dokja skillfully massaged his heavy balls, nose buried in the curls at the base of his cock.
Later, when Joonghyuk came close, he pulled Dokja's mouth off him completely, spurting across his fucked-out face. Translucent white painted his lashes, the tip of his nose, and swollen lips, his tongue lolling out to capture the last of his thickened spend. When he swallowed, it was audible; and when he next spoke, it almost sent Joonghyuk into a cardiac arrest—
"So thick. If you came inside me, you'd get me pregnant.")
9
Despite trying his absolute best, Joonghyuk could not adhere to Attorney Yoo's word of advice. Time passed in a slow crawl, and Joonghyuk suffered in the separation. Soon, those two dreadful weeks of staying on the down-low blurred into two long weeks of following Dokja around like a dog on a leash.
Well. Not like he wasn't at the older man's beck and call before. But nowadays, Joonghyuk orbited Dokja as though he was the star to his planet. He'd since inherited Dokja's second car, Biyoo became a semi-permanent fixture in his everyday duties, and there was now a seat saved for him at the dining table. Most worryingly, it seemed no one but him could feed Biyoo her banana pudding.
Joonghyuk was but a common man, after all. He'd done his best in keeping his hands to himself. He hadn't even relieved himself, despite Dokja's insistence on finding himself in increasingly compromising positions right before his eyes. Sometimes, Dokja was even more forthright, and would fall into Joonghyuk's lap smelling of a hard day's work.
In short, Joonghyuk was sporting the stiffest boner known to man, and he had been very, very good at keeping it in.
The thing was, Dokja was too observant for his own good. Conversely, Joonghyuk had the subtlety of one screaming into the void, so Dokja had easily picked up on his reservations. He was only thankful that Dokja had the grace to let him off for the entire week in preparation for his final exam.
All was well; until Dokja decided to take matters into his own hands—
"Here." A sleek wooden box was placed atop the counter. "A gift for finishing your finals."
Lifting the lid, Joonghyuk was at a loss for words. The box contained A5 wagyu beef — something he'd never thought to get his hands on given his earnings. Being in culinary school, he'd worked with the occasional high-quality beef, but never up to this grade. Isn't this equivalent to an engagement gift?
"Are you gifting me or are you craving yakiniku?"
"Does that matter?" Dokja leaned over the counter, and noncommittally said, "I'm inviting some of my friends over this weekend. Why don't you bring your sister along? Let's have dinner together."
And so, The Situation.
"I think he's courting you, oppa."
Joonghyuk's hands nearly slipped off the steering wheel as he reversed into parking, dressed in a black button-up and sleek slacks. Mia sat beside him with a fresh bouquet on her lap, which she claimed was a courtesy to the host. Being that Joonghyuk was the one to curate the menu and prep the food all day yesterday, it seemed he was more of a host than Dokja.
"What gave you the impression?"
Seeing right through him, Mia continued, "We're currently sitting in his car, which he's lent to you for over a week. Now he's involving you in his private affairs by introducing you to his friends. By my judgement, he seems pretty set on you."
Joonghyuk turned to give his sister a serious look. "It's disrespectful to speculate on your elder's relationships."
Mia returned the look with a glare of her own. "Sure. Have you been respectful to your elders?"
He had to admit: She got me there. With the way Joonghyuk had Dokja bent over every possible flat surface in the kitchen — and the foyer, and the bathroom, and the patio — he wasn't one to admonish others. Especially with how disrespectful his tongue had been in the most disrespectful of places on Dokja's body.
Still, small mercies. They still hadn't slept together. This, if Joonghyuk could pride himself over, was something worth commending.
"Mia-yah, promise me one thing," warned Joonghyuk one last time as they waited for the elevator. "Please watch your tongue around Dokja-hyung. He has a baby."
Mia merely scoffed in response.
As expected, Dokja was ever the perfect host. He greeted them at the door, carrying an overexcited Biyoo on his arm, and sporting an infectious smile. He wore a loose satin top and a pair of high-waist trousers; and when he turned, Joonghyuk's eyes immediately darted to the way the material tapered nicely over his ass.
The moment Mia came face-to-face with the man of Joonghyuk's dreams, she raised a brow in complete understanding. So this is oppa's type, she thought. He'd always been weak to pretty faces and slim waists, after all.
"It's nice to meet you, Mia. I'm sorry for stealing your brother away so often," said Dokja, leading Mia to the living room as Joonghyuk promptly excused himself. "I hope he's been spoiling you well to compensate."
"He does. It actually helps to have him out of the house, these days. Otherwise, he'd be stuck in his room all day, and I'd fret over his work-life balance."
This rightfully amused Dokja, and he gave a sharp laugh.
"This is for you." Mia presented the bouquet of lilies. "Joonghyuk-oppa helped pick the flowers out. He said they'd go well with the table runner," she added, for good measure.
"Thank you. They're lovely." Dokja smiled. "I seem to remember that you're a fan of this virtual group...ConSTELLAtion, was it? If I'd known you were planning to go to their concert, I would've given away my tickets."
"...You like ConSTELLAtion?"
With a light shrug, Dokja plopped Biyoo into the baby walker, before retrieving a glass vase from a nearby cabinet. "You see, I got them from a friend, and as you can tell, concerts aren't really my thing. She's coming over, you know. My friend. You can talk more about ConSTELLAtion with her. She'll love you for sure." Placing the vase onto the dining table, Dokja flashed Mia a wink. "Now, help me transfer the flowers into this vase, will you?"
An hour later, the other guests arrived one after the other; and as Joonghyuk lit the candles and pretended not to scan the entryway, he swiftly realised that he was in trouble. Big trouble.
Unsurprisingly, Attoney Yoo was one of the guests. Surprisingly, all of Dokja's friends were women. Scary-looking women. They unabashedly sized Joonghyuk up when they rounded the table, as though he was fresh meat waiting to be grilled. Distantly, Joonghyuk had to applaud Dokja for the sheer symbolism of it all. He might as well have swapped the wagyu beef with himself.
"This is my private chef, Joonghyuk-ie. Joonghyuk-ie, these are my friends. You've met Sangah-ssi before," he gestured to the familiar face. Standing beside her was a shorter woman with a delicate tear mole, discerning eyes, and a suspicious smirk. "This is her girlfriend, Han Sooyoung-ssi. The tall and scary one is Jung Heewon-ssi."
Heewon gave a friendly wave. Ironically, despite Dokja's description, she was somehow less intimidating than Sooyoung.
"We're still missing one more. She said she'd be a bit late—"
"This is the one who punched your ex?" said Sooyoung.
From where Mia was playing with Biyoo on the sofa, a scandalous gasp could be heard. Sangah immediately brought a hand to her temple, as Heewon's mouth hung open in shock.
"...Yes," Joonghyuk answered.
Stepping forward, Sooyoung flashed a dishonest grin. "Not bad. He deserved that for stealing Dokja's youth."
"Let's not bring him up, Sooyoung-ah—"
"What?" Sooyoung shrugged. "I was just saying the quiet part out loud. I'm sure everyone here has wanted to deck that crusty old motherfucker in the face at one point or another."
"Brave kid," remarked Heewon. "I don't personally advocate for violence myself, but I can admit that you did us all a service."
Finally, Sangah interjected, "I believe I'm legally obligated to steer the conversation away from this topic. It just sours the mood. In any case," she raised a paper bag, "we brought wine!"
Dokja produced a tight smile. Joonghyuk shifted from one foot to another, unsure of how to arrange his expression. In the end, he settled for a half-smile, half-frown, accepting the bottle of moscato with a short bow.
"Oh, how polite," giggled Sooyoung.
And with that, Dokja showed everyone to their seats, and Joonghyuk proceeded with the appetisers. The table erupted into easy conversation as the women gently interrogated Dokja about his new errand boy, with Mia acting as the intermediary to her brother. Joonghyuk pretended his heart rate didn't reflexively spike up each time they burst into laughter, as though he wasn't precisely the topic of conversation.
Not long after, the door to the kitchen slowly slid open. Gentle music flowed from the lounge, the lock clicking in place.
"How's everything going?" asked Dokja as he swayed to Joonghyuk's side, appraising his handiwork.
Joonghyuk was coating the baked eggplant halves with a miso glaze. "Almost done. A couple more minutes in the oven and they should be done."
"Eggplant?" Dokja hummed appreciatively. "Figures."
Joonghyuk cocked a brow. "What does that mean?"
Giving a suggestive smirk, Dokja completely bulldozed over Joonghyuk's question and asked one of his own: "Why don't you stay over for the night? I predict you'll be too tired to drive home after cleaning up. Besides, you'll be drinking, won't you?"
"I'm not sure you'd want to see me drunk."
"Why not?" A finger poked Joonghyuk's cheek. "I'm sure you'd be all mouthy and cute."
"Hyung, I'd rather not overstay my welcome." Joonghyuk furrowed his brows, reminding himself of the repercussions. "And where would Mia stay?"
"Overstay? Yoo Joonghyuk, you've been drinking from my tits every night after I put Biyoo to sleep. I've let you come on my face, down my throat, and all over my back. Aren't you practically a part of the household?" Then, Dokja leaned close, purring, "Don't worry, I've prepared the guest room for your sister. You can sleep with me."
As if on cue, Joonghyuk flushed red all over. He nearly dropped the tray as he slid it onto the oven rack, all rationale swiftly exiting his head.
"Give it a thought, Joonghyuk-ah." Dokja leaned against the counter, innocent as can be.
He couldn't help it. Joonghyuk sprung to his feet, turned to Dokja, and lifted him by the back of his thighs onto the countertop. Naturally, Dokja wrapped his arms around Joonghyuk's neck, meeting him halfway in a searing, open-mouthed kiss. One of Joonghyuk's gloved hands snaked up Dokja's sides, untucking his shirt and sliding underneath all in one go.
But what he grazed beneath the linen was rough lace, wrapped around Dokja's ribs. Joonghyuk was caged between Dokja's legs, his breath coming out in an undignified stutter. Dokja answered this with a lighthearted chuckle.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?"
"That's not fair, hyung," Joonghyuk huffed. "Do you always wear lingerie to dinner parties?"
"If I get fucked by the end of it, yes."
The world came to standstill. Joonghyuk's heart instantly plummeted all 60 floors to the ground, and a heavenly choir erupted in the background. The gates of paradise had opened. Dokja wants me to fuck him.
But before Joonghyuk could sound out a response, an abrupt scream broke the silence.
Joonghyuk moved on instinct, rushing towards the locked door. In the short walk to the dining table, his mind raced with every possibility. He couldn't see anyone until he crossed the pillar.
That scream was undoubtedly Mia's.
"Mia—!"
"I can't believe it! You're real?!"
It took Joonghyuk a split second too long to register the sight before him. Mia was up from her seat, gaping at whom he presumed was the last guest to arrive — a woman with long blonde curls, bright green eyes, and smooth skin similar to an idol. She beamed at Mia as she hugged the others in greeting, before finally coming around the table with her arms wide open. Mia stood frozen in place.
"Of course I am!"
Mia squealed as she was taken into the woman's arms, in a pitch Joonghyuk had never heard before.
After an embarrassing amount of time sifting through his memories, he could finally place a name to the face—
"Uriel-unnie, I've been a fan of yours since pre-debut, back when you only had two outfit variations! I stuck with you through the New Year's dating scandal, and the fallout you had with your previous producer. You didn't deserve any of the hate, unnie! I've always believed in you..."
Dokja sidled up to Joonghyuk then. "Oops, I forgot to mention! Uriel's one of Sangah-ssi's clients, and we met at the firm by chance. She brought us all out for drinks once, and we've been friends ever since."
"Is that why you asked my sister to come along?"
"Maybe."
It was then when Uriel noticed Dokja and Joonghyuk at the head of the table. She strode over in record speed and swept them both in a disarming hug.
"Ah, Dokja-ssi! Sorry I'm late! The show wrapped up late, and my driver nearly crashed at the intersection trying to beat traffic!" Uriel's eyes slowly travelled up Joonghyuk's face, gleaming at the corners. It appeared she'd seen something beyond Joonghyuk's comprehension. "Ah, you must be Dokja-ssi's boyfriend. Finally, someone who isn't so revolting to look at!"
Joonghyuk was stumped. Dokja neither denied nor confirmed Uriel's claim. "Well, I trust we won't be wasting anymore time, hm? Come, take your seat. The appetisers are about ready to serve." At this, Dokja looked expectantly at Joonghyuk.
In fact, the entire table was. Even Biyoo, up in her baby chair closest to Joonghyuk's designated seat. Stifling an uncomfortable grimace, Joonghyuk nodded before escaping to the back, swallowing his heart that inexplicably lurched to his throat. He knew that it was going to be a long night.
10
"Why are you being so shy?"
Joonghyuk stood at the far edge of the bed, freshly showered, slightly buzzed, and with his hair still dripping wet. A towel hung around his neck, his eyes darting to anywhere and everywhere but the beauty resting on the duvet.
"...I can't do it."
Dokja's eyes grew dark. "Do what?"
"This." Joonghyuk motioned vaguely with his arms. "Not with my sister in the other room."
White lace chafed against Dokja's porcelain skin, dusting it a fair pink. The shadow was smudged around the corners of his eyes, pretty pink gloss spilling over the line of his lips. Dokja's eyes narrowed onto Joonghyuk's middle. He looked like a bride waiting on the nuptial bed.
It was truly a divine sight.
"Fine." Dokja crawled forward, and tugged at Joonghyuk's wrist. The line of his back arched enticingly beneath his gaze. Slowly, he licked down the length of Joonghyuk's fingers, from the top to the spaces in between. "Then let me use your face."
Something clicked in Joonghyuk's head. "My face?"
Dokja's lips lifted into a full smile. He wiggled his hips, and repeated, "Your face."
"Haaa..."
A hand grabbed onto a fistful of Joonghyuk's hair, tugging harshly. Dokja drove his hips downwards, sinking deeper into the bed by his knees. His head was tossed to the back, molten drops of gold dripping from his lips as he moaned, over and over again, upon every brush of Joonghyuk's nasal bridge against his clit.
"Mmph...!"
Dokja was seated fully on Joonghyuk's face, turned to the lower half of his body, and riding his tongue feverishly. The plush meat of his ass nearly sealed all the oxygen, burying the tip of Joonghyuk's nose in the wet, hot slide of his slippery cunt.
The sheer pressure of Dokja being on top of him nearly drove Joonghyuk mad. Dokja's weight was real and firm, his scent a cloying, intoxicating thing. Joonghyuk would be more than happy to die right then and there.
Death by suffocation. He'd never known he'd enjoyed being used as a chair of all things; but if it was for Dokja's sake, Joonghyuk was nothing if not infatuated.
This position, at least, ensured that his own sounds would be muffled beneath Dokja's plump ass. Dokja himself was quieter than normal, as though he was merely lounging on the beach, and wasn't threatening to break Joonghyuk's neck. His whimpers came out in a hush, deliciously high-pitched, and pure melody to Joonghyuk's ear.
A rush of slick gushed out then, coating Joonghyuk's nose, mouth and chin. Dokja shivered above him, his thighs shaking around his head, as he bent forward and onto his elbows. His hand grasped Joonghyuk's untouched cock in a loose grip, leaving kittenish licks around the head.
"You're always so eager to please me. Look, you've even forgotten about this." Dokja dragged his tongue down the slit, lapping up the single droplet of pre-come.
Joonghyuk, for the life of him, could not physically answer. His tongue was currently preoccupied.
"Well, since you said no tonight, I'll just have to reconsider my options, hm?"
This had Joonghyuk shaking his head, a muffled No swallowed up by Dokja's hungry, leaking cunt.
"No?" Dokja mouthed at Joonghyuk's cockhead, muttering, "What should I do, then? I need a cock in me, or else I won't be satisfied."
Detaching himself from Dokja's puffy, pink folds, Joonghyuk pleaded, "Another day, I promise. Just not today. Please."
"Who said it had to be you?" A long, slow strip up the vein on the side of Joonghyuk's cock. It twitched uncontrollably in Dokja's palm. "I can get anyone as young and hot and eager as you. You know that, right?"
"But—"
"If you want mommy's pussy, you need to beg." Dokja squeezed around the base. "Now."
"P—Please, mommy."
A displeased hum. "Again."
"I really want to fuck you." Joonghyuk shut his eyes. His hips reflexively bucked up against Dokja's restraints. "Will you let me fuck you? Please, mommy?"
Dokja blew hot air across the tip. "One more time."
"I promise I'll make you feel good. I'll fuck you till you're sated. Till you're leaking and full."
The bedsheets rustled by Joonghyuk's ears. Dokja inched forward, splaying the whole length of his body against Joonghyuk's front. And then, deliberately, he took Joonghyuk down to the root, the head of his cock knocking against the back of Dokja's throat.
Pulling his head back up, Dokja mumbled, "And?" He swallowed roughly, the ring of his palate constricting around Joonghyuk's oversensitive tip.
"I'll put another baby in you—"
It was then when Dokja decided to sit back down on Joonghyuk's face. His head bobbed up and down his cock, milking him for all he was worth. Within seconds, Joonghyuk spilled in Dokja's mouth, shooting spurts of thick, white come right down his throat. Dokja swallowed greedily, savouring the bitter film that lingered on his tongue.
By the end of his release, Dokja slurped up and around the length of his cock, before leaving a loud, sloppy kiss on the slit.
"You want to make a baby with me?" Dokja swung his leg over Joonghyuk's torso, kneeling beside him. A shadow fell over his face, perfectly obscuring his expression.
Nothing remained in Joonghyuk's battered mind. He could only nod in the affirmative.
Dokja brought a hand to his lower abdomen. He leaned down till his lips were just a hair's breadth from Joonghyuk's. "Soon. I'll send Biyoo to her grandmother's, and we can have the whole weekend to ourselves."
Finally, the light caught onto Dokja's profile, casting him in shallow starlight. His eyes were shrouded by a sort of murkiness not unlike the devil's.
"I don't really want another one right now," he answered apologetically. "But if you do good, I'll let you come inside."
11
With his semester finally ending, Joonghyuk was able to give himself a break. As Dokja was preoccupied with his last divorce hearing, he merely gave Joonghyuk his stipulated allowance and a week off. In this time, Joonghyuk took Mia and her friends on a short trip to Sokcho, heading down the coastline for good views and equally good food.
It was fair compensation, after all. Mia had been borne witness to the worst of Joonghyuk's unclear, unethical relationship with his employer. Although she handled it with more grace than Joonghyuk could muster in this entire lifetime, he felt a strong urge to give the kids a distraction before they begin postulating on his personal relationships any further.
"We looked up Mr. Kim on South Korea's 50 Richest list," began Jihye when she plopped beside him at the bar, mocktail in hand. "Did you know that he's the adoptive son and current heir of the UW Group, and that his net worth puts him at number 30 on the list?"
"Out of curiosity, we looked up his ex-husband too," added Mia. "Comes from a small-time tech company owned by the Kims. It's a wonder why they married..."
"I bought a headset from that bastard's company when I first started streaming," supplied Namwoon. "Shit broke down within a week!"
Joonghyuk nodded, nonplussed, appearing to be retaining the information. It wasn't like he hadn't done his own research on week one of working under Dokja, no. He just needed the confirmation: it seemed that after vetting Dokja's professional background, Mia had no qualms with Joonghyuk lusting over a man 12 years his senior.
Thankfully, the decisive text arrived halfway through the week.
By the time they got back home, Joonghyuk's phone pinged with a rare message from Dokja. He was in the midst of unpacking the seashell table ornament he'd thought would look good on Dokja's coffee table when he dropped nearly everything to read the text—
Need help with something. Come over?
It was with said table ornament in hand, a duffel bag of clothes slung over his shoulder, and with a speed that was almost embarrassing, that Joonghyuk showed up to Dokja's doorstep that very evening. There was nothing else rattling in his head; only the thought that Dokja needed help with something or other, and that he'd called Joonghyuk first.
"Ah, you're here," greeted Dokja as Joonghyuk climbed upstairs. He was bent over, right hand clutching a zipper on the side of his waist. "I can't get my skirt off. It's stuck."
The goddamned skirt, which barely covered his ass, was riding up his thighs. An oversized blazer was tossed haphazardly onto the bed, right next to his cross-body bag. Dokja had on a pair of sheer tights, the straps of his heels hanging loosely around his ankles. It looked as though he'd just come back from court.
"Why don't you take a closer look?"
Dutifully, Joonghyuk knelt down after depositing all his belongings by the doorway. His face was to Dokja's ass, and—
"Oh," he let out against himself when Dokja leaned over, nearly burying Joonghyuk's face in his ass. He'd been in this position before.
Dokja peered at him from over his shoulder as he moved to unclasp the lace garter attached to his tights. Joonghyuk remained kneeling, watching in slow motion as Dokja gracefully lifted his ankle to step out of his heels, to which Joonghyuk stopped him with a grip around his thigh.
"Leave them on," Joonghyuk breathed out. "The garter," he amended himself.
Surprisingly, Dokja obliged. He turned around, grasping the crown of Joonghyuk's head and angling it so he was looking up at him. Glossy lips upturned into a sultry smirk, the sole of Dokja's foot running up and down Joonghyuk's visibly stiffening length.
"Has my Joonghyuk-ie been a good boy?" He pressed down, hard. "I haven't seen you in a week. I hope you've been thinking of me."
"Yes, mommy." Joonghyuk swallowed, dry. "I've missed you so much."
"Good boy." Dokja sneered. "You haven't done anything, have you? Kept yourself hard and waiting for me?"
"Yes. Yes, yes, yes—"
An abrupt tug sent shivers down Joonghyuk's spine. Dokja kneaded his crotch, staining his shorts with a dark, wet spot. "Are you telling the truth?"
"Yes, mommy. I've only been thinking about you, about fucking you. I miss your pussy — how it tastes, how it smells, how it feels on my tongue," Joonghyuk begged, eyes clouded around the irises. "I want to put my dick in you. Make you squirt on my cock. I want to fill you up till you're round and leaking, till you're pregnant."
Dokja laughed; and when he pulled back, Joonghyuk chased after him.
"And I'll make you pregnant. Again and again. I'll give Biyoo as many siblings as she wants." Joonghyuk groaned, rutting up against Dokja's foot. "I'll fill this house with our babies."
"But Joonghyuk-ie," Dokja drawled, "what if I don't want to? All I need is you and my daughter."
This wasn't something Joonghyuk considered. All this time, he'd rushed into Dokja's arms with a single-minded goal: knock him up, and chain him to his side. But if Dokja says no…
He'd just have to find another way to make him his.
"Barking like a dog in heat, grinding against my foot." Dokja pulled away, relinquishing Joonghyuk of his punishing hold. "You dare to give me your orders?"
That was what made Joonghyuk snap. He surged forward, gripping Dokja by the wrists. They landed onto the bed in a tangled heap, and Dokja's arms were brought above his head, clasped together in place. He thrashed violently against Joonghyuk, but Joonghyuk's body grew firm and taut.
"You—?!"
The harsh tearing of fabric. Jooonghyuk's other hand ripped the skirt in half, throwing the flimsy material absentmindedly over his shoulder.
A sharp gasp. Dokja kneed Joonghyuk's middle. "That's Vera Wang!"
Joonghyuk ignored the dull jab on his abdomen. He took a second to appreciate the complicated garter belt that stood between him and Dokja's pussy; deciding, in the end, to merely tuck the panty aside. Dokja’s cunt visibly throbbed at the exposure to cold air, a single drop of slick slipping between the folds, caught onto Joonghyuk's thumb.
"You're so beautiful." Joonghyuk tipped his head, watching Dokja as he watched him, his eyes transfixed on the rise and fall of his chest.
Calloused fingers trailed up Dokja's side in featherlight touches, plinking up each individual rib to cup his breast. He gave each a gentle squeeze, swiping a thumb over the sticky-sweet secretion, and leaned down to enclose his lips over a perked nub. Beneath him, Dokja shuddered, his eyes nowhere and everywhere at once. He wasn't sure where, or what, or who to focus on: between Joonghyuk's tongue swirling around his teat, his broad chest, the line of his jaw, or the cottony feel of Joonghyuk's ink-black hair against his clavicles.
"Feel good?"
Though Dokja, of course, refused to answer. Joonghyuk resurfaced to leave a languid kiss on Dokja's lips, pushing out a warm exhale into his mouth. This was scant distraction from the movement of his right hand, purposefully slowly, past Dokja's navel and down, down, down to his beating cunt. Instinctively, Dokja clamped his legs closed; but Joonghyuk easily nudged his thighs apart, chuckling into the kiss.
It was a deep and guttural sound. Dokja couldn't help but gasp into Joonghyuk's mouth each time Joonghyuk pressed and dug and scraped just so, slipping his fingers between the folds and gathering the slick beneath his fingernails.
"Enough teasing, will you?" Dokja chastised him; though his voice broke on the last syllable all the same. The sensation of Joonghyuk's roughened fingertips circling his clit pulled him unbearably taut, and he moaned shamelessly into the air.
"It's not teasing," answered Joonghyuk. "I need to prepare you, hyung."
And this he punctuated with a slap to Dokja's cunt.
"Ah! Why do you have to be so courteous now?"
Joonghyuk furrowed his brows. "I don't want to hurt you." He parted Dokja's legs and finally settled in between, like he'd made himself home.
The tip of his cock slid up against Dokja folds, warmed by the paradise between his thighs. Joonghyuk grasped his cock and slapped it, once, twice, onto Dokja's cunt, the skin turning an alluring pink. He was well aware of his size — the way his length curved ever so slightly towards the tip, ruddy at the head, and leaking recklessly onto the bedsheets.
In the end, Dokja was the one to voice his concerns: "You're so big."
Joonghyuk felt antsy. "Is that bad?"
"No, it's good." Dokja smirked, and cinched his ankles on the back of Joonghyuk's waist. "Makes it easier to reach all the way inside."
Well. If he said so.
They moved in a concurrence of breaths — Dokja, pushed up till he lay by the headboard; and Joonghyuk, fussing over a small tube of lube he'd produced from the nightstand, somewhere.
"Should I...?" he began, unsure of how to breach the subject.
"No, I want to feel you. Inside."
Protection be damned, then. Joonghyuk poured out a generous dollop of lube, and began coating his length with slow, deliberate strokes.
"I'm sorry," whispered Joonghyuk as he pitched in, gooseflesh running up his back at the first warm, rippling sensation that enveloped the head of his cock.
Dokja hissed, feeling the stretch. "For what?"
"If I forget to pull out."
"Huh—?"
Joonghyuk sank into Dokja like a dream — so wet, hot and searing, it felt like a second skin.
Dokja threw his head back in a gasp. He stammered as each inch of Joonghyuk's oversized cock carved deeper and deeper into his core, eliciting a numbing ache in his lower abdomen, his soft walls giving in to the intrusion."Hyuk-ah, you're too big. Are you — ah — all the way in yet?"
Joonghyuk glanced down. He wasn't even halfway in. "Just a little more. Bear with me, hyung."
At this point, with half his cock burrowed inside, Joonghyuk swore his soul had departed his body. Joonghyuk gave a shallow thrust, intending to force the rest of his length in. This stole the breath from Dokja's lungs, and he choked out in retaliation:
"Hurry up, Hyuk-ah!"
Gritting his teeth, Joonghyuk tensed his hips and thrusted forward, finally bottoming out. Once he was fully sheathed, Joonghyuk gripped Dokja's thighs, cursing to himself. The tights bunched up beneath his fingers, already tearing at the seams.
"So soft. You're so warm inside." He tipped his head, releasing a weighted sigh. "How are you still so fucking tight, hyung?"
"And how are you still so fucking slow?" Dokja spat. "I should've been more clear: Fuck me already, Joonghyuk."
Joonghyuk moved without sparing a second thought. He pinned Dokja down with one hand, keeping his strokes deep and slow. With his knees digging into the bed to steady himself, Joonghyuk rolled his hips together with Dokja's tightening walls, squeezing rhythmically on the pull-out. Joonghyuk rubbed circles into Dokja's clit upon each deliberate stroke, feeling the slick dribble relentlessly onto his fingers.
It didn't need to be said — Dokja wanted more. He seized around Joonghyuk with the intention to milk him dry, expressing not with his words, but with the curve of his eyes that he wanted more, more, more. Obligingly, Joonghyuk used his free hand to grasp Dokja's left thigh, lifting his leg as he picked up his pace. The new angle drove his cockhead straight into Dokja's spot, planting stars on the back of his vision.
"Ah! Hyuk-ah, right there! Ah, ah, ah—!"
Joonghyuk plunged in rough and fast, not allowing Dokja any time to catch a breath. He left butterfly kisses on his knee, the brutal pace of his hips straining the straps of his garter belt. It was only instinct that kept Dokja conscious, his insides pulsating along Joonghyuk's length — sometimes loosening, and sometimes squeezing so tightly, it was as though he was reluctant to let him go — till all he knew was the indentation of Joonghyuk's cock carved into his walls.
"Your inside's a riot, hyung," managed Joonghyuk between cut-off breaths, "It's like you want me to come in you."
"No," Dokja shook his head, though his legs spread further and further apart. Long, manicured nails raked down the expanse of Joonghyuk's back, marking him as he marked his insides. "I can't...!"
The garter snapped open, the tights ripping apart quickly after. Below him, Dokja was the very effigy of sin — his midnight black hair tousled over his eyes, red-rimmed and teary, his lips pink and plush from overuse. How his brows were knitted in pleasure, the curve of his mouth dripping with the sweetest of sounds; how his arms enveloped Joonghyuk, desperately holding; how his words turned incoherent, begging and pleading in the same way he'd trained Joonghyuk to.
Joonghyuk greedily committed these sensations to heart, and more.
Brushing the hair out of his face, Dokja tugged Joonghyuk into a deep kiss, just to stop himself from screaming like a harlot in a whorehouse. This had Joonghyuk pressing Dokja's knee to his shoulder, the lower half of his body nearly folded into a mating press. With this new position, their bodies rocked in tandem, slamming against the headboard, and rattling the glass candle holder off the nightstand to the floor.
It crashed; but neither paid it any mind. Dokja let himself be towed along with the unforgiving currents of Joonghyuk's riptide thrusts, squirming beneath his hold as Joonghyuk petted that one spot inside him over and over and over again.
"Shhh. You're too loud, hyung."
Yet, despite his words, Joonghyuk was cruel. He felt for Dokja's right breast, feeling it bounce in his grasp. And then, he leaned down, licking, lapping, and biting on the underside to leave a heart-shaped mark. He replicated this with his other breast, painting a path in purples and reds along his sternum, in between his collarbones, and up the line of his neck to nip at his jaw.
"Hyuk-ah," Dokja rasped, "I'm close."
"Are you?"
Joonghyuk's hand shifted from Dokja's chest to his clit, rubbing in sync with his ruthless downward thrusts. Fat tears rolled down Dokja's cheeks, rosy from exertion, his short, punched-out breaths clouding the air between their lips.
When he came, he screamed Joonghyuk's name. Just as before, Joonghyuk felt a building pressure around his cock as Dokja's walls seized abruptly; except this time, a force propelled him out of his cunt, only to be doused in Dokja's full, gushing squirt.
Unperturbed, Joonghyuk slapped Dokja's clit to squeeze out every last drop, and, without stalling his pace, threw him onto his front. He supported Dokja's stomach with a palm as Dokja reflexively arched his back, rubbing against Joonghyuk's cock wedged between his plump cheeks. Joonghyuk had half a mind to deliver a warning smack to Dokja's ass before plunging back in, finding himself close to his own climax as soon as he was buried inside.
Now, Dokja was head-down and ass-up, with Joonghyuk mounting him from behind like an animal. He had one knee up, and the other planted into the bed to anchor himself in place. A hand was splayed against the headboard — whether Dokja's or Joonghyuk's, neither could tell — as if it could help cushion Dokja from crashing into the leather each time Joonghyuk's hips pistoned in and out.
Either way, Joonghyuk was sure they'd made a dent in the wall.
"Hyung, I'm close." Joonghyuk perched his chin on Dokja's shoulder, breathing right into his ear.
"D—Don't come inside, okay?" answered Dokja, beautifully starry-eyed. "I can't have another baby."
It's too late, Joonghyuk thought. If he'd so much as looked down, he'd easily catch onto the copious amounts of pre-come Joonghyuk had shoved into his pussy. The creamy, thick fluid dragged along Joonghyuk's length, coating Dokja's cunt an immaculate white. They were already playing with fire without protection; and with how unrelenting Dokja was in swallowing him in, Joonghyuk had no doubts that his seed would take.
Not intending to answer, Joonghyuk grabbed Dokja's nape, forcing him to still. Joonghyuk quickened his movements, drowning in the sounds of Dokja's pussy squelching against each ruthless slam of his hips. Like this, he was able to reach deeper than before, feeling as though the tip of his cock was kissing the entrance of Dokja's womb.
"Joonghyuk-ah, what are you doing?" A particularly harsh thrust had Dokja grazing against the headboard, and he shouted, "Take it out, Yoo Joonghyuk!"
Joonghyuk's hips began to stutter. From where his palm laid flat on Dokja's stomach, he could feel the protrusion bulging against his abdomen. Every part of his body sang in a dull ache — his knees, his thighs, his cock being gripped tighter and tighter with each passing second. He reached out a hand to cup Dokja's chin, drawing him into a shuddering kiss.
"Fuck, it feels too good!" Dokja panted. His knees shook, threatening to give in completely. "You're in too deep, I can feel you hitting my womb...!"
"Yeah?" Joonghyuk pushed on Dokja’s lower belly, rubbing against his own cockhead through a layer of skin. "Take it, hyung. Take all of it."
"N—No, please...!" He scratched at Joonghyuk's arms, the duvet, anything, to free himself.
But Joonghyuk's eyes had darkened over, and the only thought filling his mind was Breed him, breed him, breed him—
"I'll fill you up with my come, nice and full. Make sure you're never not pregnant. Make sure you're always carrying mine."
"I can't...I can't!"
"It's okay, hyung. I'll take care of you. I'll take care of all of you."
Dokja's scream was muffled against the sheets as he came a second time, wetting Joonghyuk's cock with his squirt. His body convulsed with the intensity of his climax, his walls rippling along Joonghyuk's length like a sleeve. This nearly pushed Joonghyuk over the edge.
Afterward, Dokja fell limply onto the bed.
"Haaa, I'm sorry, hyung." Joonghyuk gave one last, shaky thrust. He collided into that obtrusion deep within Dokja's walls, hitting dead-on every—single—time. "You just feel too good."
And then, he burrowed past the obtrusion, spilling directly into Dokja's womb.
"A—Ah, Hyuk-ie. you're filling me up..."
It must have been an eternity that passed. By the time Joonghyuk pulled out, Dokja was leaking between his legs, the sheer tights torn beyond repair and stained in equal measure. Joonghyuk watched his come drip out of Dokja's abused cunt, and he selfishly scooped a handful to stuff it back inside where it was warm and snug.
Dokja's breathing had turned slow. Carefully turning Dokja onto his back, Joonghyuk was finally able to appreciate the visible swell of his belly. A hint of disappointment lingered on his tail at the thought of Dokja not even being conscious when receiving his seed; but this was swiftly overtaken by sheer, unbidden pride.
Pride that he had bedded Dokja. Pride that he had held out for this long. Pride that, soon, he would be able to see the fruits of his labour.
Joonghyuk eyed Dokja's plump, pink pussy, glistening with nectar. With the greatest care, he laid his head on the sharp jut of Dokja's shoulder, feeling for his pulse.
There it was. Slow, steady, and strong. Joonghyuk couldn't wait for a second heartbeat to join Dokja's. A wicked grin split his face, and he couldn't suppress the joy surging in his blood. Laying with Dokja was more mind-breaking than anything his inexperienced mind could conjure. It was a wonder how he wasn't born addicted to his slick.
A hand found itself in Joonghyuk's hair, tangled in the loose curls. Dokja gave a light scratch down his scalp, and murmured, "So good. I feel so full."
"You should've known, hyung," Joonghyuk said, in return. "If you hadn't hired me, none of this would've happened."
"This...?"
Dokja was beyond saving. His eyes slipped shut, and he soon fell into restless slumber. Above the rush of adrenaline, Dokja's heartbeat began to even out to a lethargic tempo. Dropping a kiss on the centre of his heart, Joonghyuk sighed. His arms wrapped protectively around Dokja's middle.
"Now, I can never leave you alone."
12
One month later.
When Biyoo hit her 8-month mark, she was able to stand on her own. After gradually weaning off Dokja's milk, Biyoo can now be spotted crawling across the lounge, to the kitchen, and back again, asking for a bottle — which meant that the villa had to be baby-proofed, doubly so. This included no scraps on the floor, newly installed baby gates, and a constant crashing into Joonghyuk's shins for his undivided attention.
She was also able to prefer Joonghyuk's company, and attach his name to brand new phrases she'd quickly learned to use.
"Appa! Up! Up!"
That is to say...her preferred term of endearment for Joonghyuk was concerning, to say the least. It was something to be discussed, if anything. But if Dokja hadn't batted an eyelash to what his daughter called his boyfriend, then all was good in the world.
"Appaaa!" Biyoo whined, with the exact pitch she knew would get Joonghyuk crumbling.
"Okay, okay," Joonghyuk laughed, picking Biyoo up and settling her on his forearm. Joonghyuk absentmindedly poured the syrup over Dokja's stack of pancakes, wondering where the other was at this hour of the day. "Where's your mommy, hm? He should be awake by now—"
It turned out Joonghyuk hadn't needed to do much to get an answer. He heard the slam of a door, and tentatively peeked out with Biyoo clinging to his shirt. Down at the end of the hallway was the guest bathroom; and inside of it was Dokja, curled over and heaving into the toilet bowl.
The corner of Joonghyuk's mouth twitched. He set Biyoo down and rushed to Dokja's side, rubbing his hand down his back.
No words needed to be said. Dokja hurled one last time, scrambled for the flush, and shot Joonghyuk a scathing glare.
Joonghyuk shuddered. If looks could kill.
In the end, Dokja mouthed, You, me, bedroom. Now.
A row of positive pregnancy tests was arranged neatly on the bed, right within view of the doorway.
Joonghyuk had expected many things when Dokja first started exhibiting symptoms as early as two weeks ago — at best, an argument; at worst, getting the boot — but the civility, calm and patience with which Dokja handled the reveal was one he hadn't quite prepared himself for.
"Don't worry, I docked this from your pay. All five of them."
"...Is it mine?"
Dokja raised his brow and seemed to ask, non-verbally, What do you think?
"You said you'd take responsibility." Dokja took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Right, Hyuk-ah?"
Joonghyuk's back inexplicably straightened. "Of course." He stepped forward and knelt before Dokja's knees, placing his head on his lap. With large, watery eyes, he blinked up at Dokja, his bottom lip subtly quivering. His hand caressed the curve of Dokja's abdomen, still plainly flat.
Dokja sighed with his hand to his temple. "You're lucky you're cute. And a good cook. And that Biyoo loves you."
"That's a lot of things to be thankful for," mumbled Joonghyuk.
Joonghyuk's cheek was given a sharp pinch. "And you have a huge dick. Otherwise, I wouldn't have let you do me raw."
"But you did."
"And I did."
Silence lapsed.
"...But if Biyoo loves you, I'm sure the baby would love you too."
Joonghyuk's pitiful expression cracked into a heartfelt smile. He leapt up, suffocating Dokja in his arms. A shower of kisses rained on Dokja's cheek, the bridge of his nose, and on the upper bow of his lips. Despite trying his best to keep a straight face, Dokja giggled in Joonghyuk's embrace, weakly beating against his chest in a futile attempt at payback.
"Of course they would. I'm the father after all."
"You adapted to this rather quickly." Dokja pecked him on the arch of his brow. "Frighteningly so, might I add."
"Would you believe me if I said I was ready from the moment Biyoo called me Appa?"
Dokja clicked his tongue. "Ridiculous. Are kids these days usually so brave?"
And to this, Joonghyuk did not answer. He swallowed the greed down his throat, opting to bury Dokja beneath the bedsheets so he could never run away from him. So the baby and him would be safe. So the three of them — and soon, four, five, and six — would be cradled within his arms, right where they belong.
⟡
And right where Dokja wanted them.
With the added pressure to his abdomen, Dokja let slip a dishonest smile. His eyes wandered to the closet, where he'd stowed away all his birth control pills. He hadn't been taking them for half a year.
So he's wanted me since then, huh?
Dokja recalled seeing Joonghyuk through the receptionist's call, unintentionally letting out a pleased Oh! when the lighting adjusted to his features. Someone so young and so handsome was willing to work at his beck and call, and all to please his little sister? After the charity case Dokja was forced to marry, Yoo Joonghyuk was someone Dokja could only dream of.
And so innocent, too.
So he slipped on the loose button-up, and fed Biyoo his milk. It was only fate that as soon as the door slid open, and Joonghyuk's eyes first dropped to his tits than his eyes, that he knew the other had fallen hook, line, and sinker.
“You’ll make a great father,” said Dokja into the space between their lips.
Joonghyuk merely hummed, pleased and clueless as can be.
“But you already know that, don’t you?”
The second baby was only the payoff for his deeds.