fic: A Hundred and One little Complications, Chapter 3
Title: A Hundred and One Little Complications, Chapter 3
Length: chaptered
Author: M_K Yujji
Rating: R (rating subject to increase in later chapters)
Genre: AU
Pairing/Characters: Doojoon, Gikwang, Yoseob, ofc of the child type
Warnings: RPS, nudity~
Disclaimer: Though real people are used as characters, this fic bears no resemblance to Real Life and these people are not owned by me.
Comments/Notes: Partially inspired by snb123's spy prompt and this picture. ^_^
This chapter was shorter than I wanted, but ah well. ^^ Hopefully you guys like it~<3
Previously: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Summary: Doojoon is a gay reporter with too many enemies in too many places, the divorced father of a beautiful little girl. Gikwang is his deceased ex-wife’s last husband and the closest thing he has to family since his blood relatives disowned him. When an assassination attempt almost kills them all, Gikwang calls in a favor.
As if Doojoon's life isn't already complicated enough...
~*~*~
Cleaning up took the entire day. Yoseob had been serious about putting the entire house to rights. He treated it like a mission, doling out assignments to Doojoon and Gikwang along with specific instructions for each area. Whenever they failed to get something as clean or as straightened out as Yoseob thought it should be, he made them do it over. If they didn’t get it right the second time, he huffed in annoyance and took over, sending them on to a different task.
Cheon helped out, as well, organizing and color coding her own things under Yoseob’s watchful eye. When she was done with that, he stuck a mini dust buster in her hands and put her to crawling under things to get to the harder to reach areas.
By the time the place was up to the merc’s exacting standards, Doojoon was ready to collapse and never get up again. Even Gikwang was starting to droop and Cheon had curled up under the coffee table to nap out of the way.
There was no denying that Doojoon’s home had not been so clean since the day he’d moved in. In fact, he was pretty sure it hadn’t even been as clean then.
“I don’t ever want to do that again,” Doojoon muttered as he collapsed on the couch beside Gikwang.
Yoseob snorted, wiping his hands on a towel. The bright blonde hair had disappeared under a ratty looking kerchief that was soaked through with sweat and the scar on his forehead stood out more than usual. “If you clean a little every day, then you never have to do this sort of deep cleaning.”
“Did the walls really need scrubbing?”
“At least there weren’t any toothbrushes involved,” Gikwang moaned, twisting around and stretching. “I’m having flashbacks of boot camp.”
Laughing, Yoseob popped the man with his towel. “This wasn’t a punishment.”
“Felt like it.”
The soldier just shook his head and looked around the room, a satisfied look on his face. A look that turned into exasperated amusement when his eyes returned to the exhausted pair on the couch. “Dinner isn’t going to magically appear in the fridge. We still have to go out and shop.”
“No~” Doojoon and Gikwang whined in stereo. “Please.”
“Gikwang can stay with Cheon, but you have to come with. Come on,” Yoseob grabbed his hand and began tugging. “Up you go.”
“I stink.” Actually, he smelt more like lemony fresh cleaner than anything else, but under it was the definite aroma of a man who’d done far more industrious work than he’d intended.
“Which is what showers are for, thankfully. Come on.”
Against his will, Doojoon found himself fully on his feet and sighed before slumping against Yoseob. “But I’m tired.”
“Poor baby.” Yoseob’s arms slid around his waist and he patted Doojoon’s butt before he began shuffling them backwards towards the master bathroom. “Hey, Kwangie, when Cheon wakes up, make sure she takes a bath, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gikwang muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled up on the couch. He didn’t look like he intended to go anywhere for a while.
Doojoon was more than a little envious of his friend as he let Yoseob herd him towards the master bathroom. A nap sounded wonderful and as they passed his bed, he considered flopping over onto it for a moment before discarding the idea. Yoseob would just drag him back up.
Industrious hands had his shirt halfway off before he even noticed. He yelped slightly and tried to wiggle away. “I can undress myself.”
“And yet, here you are, still fully dressed.”
“I’m not getting undressed in front of you!”
Yoseob sighed and rolled his eyes before letting go and turning his back to Doojoon. “You do realize that I’ve seen you completely naked before, right?”
“I’m trying not to think about that,” Doojoon muttered, shucking his clothes and shutting the bathroom door tightly behind him. It didn’t keep him from hearing Yoseob’s annoyed reply that you’re so much more pleasant when you’re drunk, you know.
Once he had the water on and the temperature perfect, Doojoon slipped in and relaxed slightly. He leaned forward against the wall and sighed with contentment as the warm spray eased sore muscles and washed away the sticky, dusty feeling on his skin.
It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. He hadn’t realized that letting Gikwang call in a favor was going to send his already spinning life completely topsy turvy.
He’d woken up that morning to the long unfamiliar feeling of someone else in his bed. A mostly naked Yoseob had been wrapped around him like some kind of security blanket, warm and soft, tempting him to stay in bed. He’d buried a hand in the soft, fluffy hair of his bedmate, playing with it idly, and decided that there really wasn’t anything worth getting up for just then.
Asleep, everything about Yoseob seemed soft and inviting.
Doojoon had lain there, contentedly drowsing off and on until the other man had begun stirring, the lazy movement of Yoseob’s hips saying that he wasn’t quite willing to give up whatever held him in his dream land.
The contact had sent sparks of pleasure shooting up Doojoon’s body, short circuiting his brain for a few blissful minutes before reality had caught back up with him and he’d practically dumped Yoseob out of bed trying to clamber out of it himself.
It had been a rather pointed reminder that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten laid and that was just sad.
He made a face and sighed.
It was going to be even longer before he could remedy the problem. He wasn’t going to be able to get rid of Yoseob and lose himself in the anonymity of the club scene until Cheon was safe again.
A sponge pressed against his back, causing Doojoon to yelp and jerk away sharply, his feet slipping on the wet floor. Only Yoseob’s quick reflexes and strong arms kept the reporter from hurting himself.
“Whoa, man. You’re so jumpy.”
The lean, nude, wet body pressed against his made Doojoon’s blood rush first south, then back to his face as the situation solidified in his mind. The conflict left him faint. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Your awareness of your surroundings leaves a lot to be desired,” Yoseob scolded, letting Doojoon go once he was sure the older man had his feet steady again.
Doojoon scowled. “You have no concept of personal space, do you?”
Yoseob grinned, completely unrepentant. “It’s that thing for other people. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m not here to molest you. It’ll just be faster if we shower together.”
“Normal people don’t hop into other people’s showers.”
Of course, he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that very little about Yoseob could be classified as ‘normal’.
“Mil-i-tar-y,” Yoseob pronounced out slowly as if Doojoon had a single digit IQ or difficulty hearing. “Communal showering. Ask Kwangie if you don’t believe me.”
“That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it?” Doojoon sighed and rolled his eyes, pointedly keeping his back to Yoseob and refusing to give in to the urge to peek at anything. Though he hoped Yoseob would take the hint and return the favor, he suspected it was a vain wish.
So far the mercenary had had no qualms about taking advantage of the situation where it suited him. If he wanted to look, it wasn’t like Doojoon could stop him.
You do realize that I’ve seen you completely naked before, right?
He made a face and grabbed his shampoo. As he lathered it into his hair, he hoped it would take the overpowering odor of lemon out.
“Military service is a well-documented cause of all sorts of strange behavior in civilization,” Yoseob informed Doojoon as he went back to sponging off the older man’s back.
“Wouldn’t it be faster if you cleaned yourself up?”
“You can’t reach your back, I can’t reach mine.” Yoseob reached over his shoulder and dropped the sponge into his hands. “Your turn~”
“I’d rather not,” Doojoon muttered, glancing back over his shoulder to see Yoseob pouting at him.
“I washed yours. Fair’s fair.”
Doojoon let out a heavy sigh and turned around. Torturing himself with the temptation of a warm, attractive body under his hands just seemed like a bad idea all the way around, but he had a feeling that if he didn’t, he’d have Yoseob all up on him with that pouty expression of Doom.
That would be a lot worse than getting it over with as quickly as possible. Then he could scrub himself down, rinse his hair, and hop out to the relative safety of the bedroom and clothing.
A good look at Yoseob’s back compeletely derailed that train of thought. His grip slackened on the sponge and he almost dropped it as he swallowed hard. There were a scattering of round scars across his shoulders and down one side. Some were obviously healed bullet wounds, but others were too small, too perfectly round. Further down, long, jagged looking scars raked across his lower back.
Against his will, his fingers ran over the scarred skin in a gentle caress. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Huh?” Yoseob looked over his shoulder, trying to peer down at whatever Doojoon was looking at but not quite managing it. “Dunno, which one are you looking at?”
Doojoon’s fingers traced over the jagged lines. “Here.”
“Umm… Razor wire. Nasty stuff. Hurt like a motherfucker. The tetanus shot after wasn’t much better.”
“And these?” His touch trailed upwards to the small, perfect circles.
Again Yoseob tried to twist to see properly. “Could be a couple of things… Big circles or little ones?”
“Little.”
“Cigarette burns.”
“Big.”
“I…” His nose scrunched up slightly for a moment as he thought before Yoseob shrugged. “I don’t actually remember. DW might know if they’re newer ones.”
“And here?” He touched each of the more obvious bullet scars at the top of his shoulders, then down along his side and Yoseob laughed softly.
“Dude… You don’t want to know how many times I’ve been shot. I’ve been lucky so far. If I know someone’s going to be shooting at me, I usually wear a vest and no one going for a head shot has had very good aim.”
Doojoon hesitated for a moment before reaching up and brushing his fingers against the scar he’d noticed the first time he’d seen Yoseob - had that really only been the day before? - The one that ran from his ear down towards the front of his torso. “And this?”
Yoseob shifted around so that he was facing Doojoon and the older man could see the rest of the scar. It went all the way down, past his collar bone, down his chest, ending somewhere near his abdomen. His voice was sober this time as he touched the pale strip of skin with his own fingers. “Sword. Nearly got gutted that day. Sucked.”
“A sword?” Doojoon asked, skeptical.
“People do still use them, you know. Not often, but they’re pretty effective in the right hands.”
Doojoon’s hand didn’t quite make it all the way up to the scar on Yoseob’s forehead before it was captured and pulled down to the slim waist. In some dim corner of his mind he noted that he’d been right about Yoseob’s hands. They really were almost twice the size of his own.
“As much as I’d love to continue this exploration of my body to it’s natural conclusion,” Yoseob purred, pressing close. “This isn’t getting the shopping done.”
“Eh? That’s not- I wasn’t-” Doojoon flushed and looked away, embarrassed by how easily he’d let himself get distracted by Yoseob’s body. Even though there hadn’t been anything sexual about his distraction, he suspected that Yoseob would have turned it in that direction in other circumstances.
“Next time.” The smaller man pushed up onto his tiptoes and nipped at Doojoon’s lips before offering a remarkably chaste kiss, considering the situation and the promise in his voice.
Then he finished cleaning up, far more quickly than before, and slipped out of the shower, leaving Doojoon alone with his thoughts.
He sighed and leaned his head against the shower wall again.
When had his life become such a confusing mess?
“Hey~” A hand smacked against the wall near his head and he turned to see the distorted figure through water and plastic. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we get back. Then I can cook dinner. So snap to!”
“All right, already,” Doojoon muttered, rolling his eyes and grabbing the soap.
An hour later, Doojoon was watching with open fascination as Yoseob set upon the grocery store isles like some kind of Mad Scientist crossed with a Master Chef Extrordinaire.
He had a list - something Doojoon had never bothered with - and he was as exacting and picky about the items on it as he had been with the cleaning list he’d had that morning.
Whereas Doojoon tended to just toss things in the cart if they appealed to him at the moment, Yoseob spent almost an entire half hour in the fresh vegetables sifting through the produce to find exactly what he wanted. He squeezed and sniffed at the fruit. He set aside dozens of bundles of vegetables and herbs before choosing ones that looked exactly the same as the others to Doojoon.
Core raw ingredients that had never been seen inside Doojoon’s kitchen were selected in mass quantities.
Another ten minutes were spent choosing eggs, and though Doojoon had glanced around nervously, no one had given Yoseob a second look as he shuffled the contents of the various egg crates around until he had a full crate of exactly the eggs that he wanted.
At the butcher’s counter, Yoseob chattered easily and knowledgeably with the butcher.
For the most part, Doojoon just followed behind, pushing the cart and pondering the various things that found their way into it. A few items were completely alien to him and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of meals they’d make.
Occasionally, Yoseob asked him a question about allergies or preferences. He rolled his eyes whenever Doojoon replied with blank looks or confusion and hummed with approval whenever Doojoon had an actual answer for him.
He rolled his eyes a lot.
Paying might have been a squabble except Yoseob gave Doojoon a Look, which clearly said Put your credit card away before I cause a scene you won’t be living down any time soon. Doojoon was about 98% certain that whatever scene Yoseob caused wouldn’t actually hurt him, but given Yoseob’s penchence for getting up in his personal space, he could imagine what it would do.
Though he wasn’t exactly secretive about his sexuality, he didn’t see any point in broadcasting it to all the housewives in his neighborhood.
As he watched Yoseob pocket a receipt far larger than any he’d ever racked up for groceries before, Doojoon soothed his pride by promising himself that he’d do any paying there was to be done next time.
Getting all of the bags home was a challenge. At Yoseob’s insistence, they’d taken the bus to the market rather than his car. The mercenary was insistent that it not be driven until he’d had a chance to go over it himself to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with.
There was no way the bus was going to work getting back. Even if Doojoon could have managed to carry the bags, he’d have had to put his foot down.
There were limits to what he’d let himself get pushed into doing, after all.
Luckily, Yoseob conceded the point easily enough and they’d hailed down a taxi.
The doorman of his building was a stern, unsmiling man who was as likely to turn his nose up at a person as help them.
All it took was a bright smile from Yoseob as they entered the lobby - and a little bit of a wobble under weight that Doojoon was sure Yoseob could carry just fine - and the doorman was up in a heartbeat, taking a good half of the bags out of Yoseob’s hands though he left Doojoon to struggle with his own.
At their door - and it took a moment for that thought to fully sink in - Doojoon was sure he heard a disapproving mutter of about damn time you made an honest man of him, but he decided it was better for his sanity to just pretend he hadn’t.
The others hadn’t so much as budged from where they’d each passed out, Gikwang curled up on the couch and Cheon under the table, so Doojoon and Yoseob did their best to be quiet as they got everything into the kitchen and put away.
“You’re so bossy,” Doojoon muttered as Yoseob stopped him from just putting things into the closest cabinets and forced him to actually put them in specified places. “I didn’t think they took bossy people in the military.”
Yoseob just laughed softly. “They take anyone willing to sign the papers and able to make it through boot camp. Besides, you’ve met my grandmother.”
The older man considered that for a moment, remembering the stern, no-nonsense expression on Yunja’s face as she’d told him not to bring trouble into her place. He shuddered slightly. “True.”
“Don’t worry,” Yoseob reassured him. “Once you get used to it, you’ll like this better.”
“I don’t know. Bossy hasn’t ever really been a turn on.”
Yoseob sputtered with laughter and covered his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle the sound while Doojoon blushed slightly. He hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud.
Once the blonde had gotten control of himself again, he sauntered over to trap Doojoon against the counter. He gripped the counter on either side of Doojoon’s hips and leaned into the older man’s personal space. His sly grin, full of promise and seductive humor, did funny things to Doojoon’s stomach.
Or maybe that was just his libido.
“I meant the organization, but I’m sure I could convince you that bossiness has its place in the bedroom, too.”
It had been a really long time since he’d gotten laid and it really wasn’t fair that Yoseob was so tantalizingly attractive and willing.
Even as Doojoon’s mind hesitated, his body swayed closer. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm…” Yoseob’s lips were so very close, his breath brushed across Doojoon’s.
A kiss, a real kiss, not something staged for an audience, seemed inevitable and Doojoon had to face the fact that he wanted it, but Yoseob stilled, his head tilting slightly before he pulled away with an amused expression.
“Wha-”
“Hey, when did you guys get home?” Gikwang asked as he stretched full length, going onto his tiptoes in the doorway.
Doojoon had never really wanted to smother his friend quite as much as he did right at that moment.
“Not long ago,” Yoseob answered, his voice a shade huskier than normal, but otherwise unaffected. “You really should take a shower, Kwangie. I can smell you from here.”
Gikwang sniffed at his underarm and made a face. “If you weren’t a slave driver, Seobie…”
“Then you’d have just gone and worked out anyways. Go take a shower.”
It took Doojoon a minute to get his own breathing back to normal and he turned towards the counter, using the move to disguise it as he adjusted himself.
The sly, amused look from Yoseob said he wasn’t nearly as subtle as he’d hoped, but Gikwang didn’t seem to notice.
He pouted at Yoseob for a moment. “Why are you so bossy?”
Yoseob laughed and flashed Doojoon grin and a wink. “It’s just one of my charms.”
Doojoon made a face and went back to putting things away. It was something, all right, though he doubted charm was really the right word for it.
“Ooohh… Are you making bulgogi? Can I- Ouch! Why are you so mean?”
The smacking sound made Doojoon turn around to see Gikwang holding his hand against his lips with a wounded look while Yoseob threatened him with a wooden spoon.
“You haven’t showered yet. You’re filthy and you stink. You can touch the food when you’re clean.”
Gikwang turned to Doojoon, denial on his face. “I wasn’t actually going to touch anything!”
“Err…” Doojoon glanced between them before shrugging helplessly. “Maybe you should just hurry with your shower? Then you can help Yoseob cook?”
It was always a little disconcerting how quickly Gikwang shifted gears. He perked right up, turning hopeful eyes on Yoseob. “Can I?”
“Well….” Yoseob seemed to hesitate for a moment before giving in with a nod. “If you promise to do exactly what I say.”
“Awesome!” Gikwang vanished without another word, presumably to take the fastest shower ever and Yoseob sighed.
“You do realize that unless he’s changed a lot over the last few years that he’s an absolute disaster in the kitchen, right?”
He hadn’t known that, actually. There’d never really been any reason for Gikwang to have to do any actual cooking around Doojoon, though now that he htought about it, his friend’s fridge was mostly filled with salad trimmings, fruit, and protein bars.“Sorry?”
Yoseob just sighed and shook his head as he started arranging a few things on the counter nearest Doojoon’s rarely used stove. “No, it’s okay. He’s good at following directions, at least. And he handles a knife well.”
Doojoon didn’t really want to pursue that line of thought. Instead, he turned back to the groceries though he kept half his attention on his companion. “I swear, he seems to have de-aged since you showed up.”
“Kwangie?” Yoseob glanced in the direction Gikwang had gone. He shrugged, though his expression remained thoughtful. “He was always like that. Perfectly serious and mature one minute, a spazzing, bouncing ball of immaturity the next.”
“After…“ He hesitated for a moment, looking back at Doojoon. Those dark eyes held the same world-weary, too-old knowledge that sometimes peered at him from Gikwang’s. “I thought he’d lost that part of himself. I’m glad he didn’t. He isn’t really Kwangie if he takes himself too seriously.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what had happened, exactly. Over the years, Doojoon had gotten the impression that while the life itself hadn’t been the easiest, it had been one particular event that had made Gikwang cut off all ties with his past and start fresh in a place where his biggest worry was that some idiot would accidentally crush himself with the free weights. Yoseob had alluded to the same thing more than once.
Before he could make up his mind to ask or not, Gikwang reappeared, drying his hair roughly with a towel.
Doojoon frowned at the loose track pants that hung low on Gikwang’s hips. “Aren’t those mine?”
“When was the last time you actually wore them?” Gikwang countered with a cheeky grin. “You don’t get nearly enough exercise.”
With a snort, Yoseob shook his head. “That’s okay, he’s wearing my tank top. Aren’t your own clothes just next door?”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t want to take too long. I didn’t want you to change your mind! Besides, I knew neither of you’d actually care.” He crowded in next to Yoseob, letting his arms slip around his friend’s waist. Though Yoseob tensed for a moment, he relaxed back against the other man easily enough and the expression on his face left little doubt just how much he’d missed the closeness of his childhood companion over the years. “Oh, I had to borrow your underwear, too. Doojoon’s won’t fit me.”
“Ookay,” Doojoon said suddenly, sitting down the jar he’d grabbed. In no way, shape, or form, did he want to think about Gikwang in the bedroom trying on their clothes. “I think it’s time for me to go get Cheon up. She’ll need to clean up before dinner, after all.”
Their laughter followed him out of the room.
~*~*~
go to Chapter 4
Length: chaptered
Author: M_K Yujji
Rating: R (rating subject to increase in later chapters)
Genre: AU
Pairing/Characters: Doojoon, Gikwang, Yoseob, ofc of the child type
Warnings: RPS, nudity~
Disclaimer: Though real people are used as characters, this fic bears no resemblance to Real Life and these people are not owned by me.
Comments/Notes: Partially inspired by snb123's spy prompt and this picture. ^_^
This chapter was shorter than I wanted, but ah well. ^^ Hopefully you guys like it~<3
Previously: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Summary: Doojoon is a gay reporter with too many enemies in too many places, the divorced father of a beautiful little girl. Gikwang is his deceased ex-wife’s last husband and the closest thing he has to family since his blood relatives disowned him. When an assassination attempt almost kills them all, Gikwang calls in a favor.
As if Doojoon's life isn't already complicated enough...
~*~*~
Cleaning up took the entire day. Yoseob had been serious about putting the entire house to rights. He treated it like a mission, doling out assignments to Doojoon and Gikwang along with specific instructions for each area. Whenever they failed to get something as clean or as straightened out as Yoseob thought it should be, he made them do it over. If they didn’t get it right the second time, he huffed in annoyance and took over, sending them on to a different task.
Cheon helped out, as well, organizing and color coding her own things under Yoseob’s watchful eye. When she was done with that, he stuck a mini dust buster in her hands and put her to crawling under things to get to the harder to reach areas.
By the time the place was up to the merc’s exacting standards, Doojoon was ready to collapse and never get up again. Even Gikwang was starting to droop and Cheon had curled up under the coffee table to nap out of the way.
There was no denying that Doojoon’s home had not been so clean since the day he’d moved in. In fact, he was pretty sure it hadn’t even been as clean then.
“I don’t ever want to do that again,” Doojoon muttered as he collapsed on the couch beside Gikwang.
Yoseob snorted, wiping his hands on a towel. The bright blonde hair had disappeared under a ratty looking kerchief that was soaked through with sweat and the scar on his forehead stood out more than usual. “If you clean a little every day, then you never have to do this sort of deep cleaning.”
“Did the walls really need scrubbing?”
“At least there weren’t any toothbrushes involved,” Gikwang moaned, twisting around and stretching. “I’m having flashbacks of boot camp.”
Laughing, Yoseob popped the man with his towel. “This wasn’t a punishment.”
“Felt like it.”
The soldier just shook his head and looked around the room, a satisfied look on his face. A look that turned into exasperated amusement when his eyes returned to the exhausted pair on the couch. “Dinner isn’t going to magically appear in the fridge. We still have to go out and shop.”
“No~” Doojoon and Gikwang whined in stereo. “Please.”
“Gikwang can stay with Cheon, but you have to come with. Come on,” Yoseob grabbed his hand and began tugging. “Up you go.”
“I stink.” Actually, he smelt more like lemony fresh cleaner than anything else, but under it was the definite aroma of a man who’d done far more industrious work than he’d intended.
“Which is what showers are for, thankfully. Come on.”
Against his will, Doojoon found himself fully on his feet and sighed before slumping against Yoseob. “But I’m tired.”
“Poor baby.” Yoseob’s arms slid around his waist and he patted Doojoon’s butt before he began shuffling them backwards towards the master bathroom. “Hey, Kwangie, when Cheon wakes up, make sure she takes a bath, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gikwang muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled up on the couch. He didn’t look like he intended to go anywhere for a while.
Doojoon was more than a little envious of his friend as he let Yoseob herd him towards the master bathroom. A nap sounded wonderful and as they passed his bed, he considered flopping over onto it for a moment before discarding the idea. Yoseob would just drag him back up.
Industrious hands had his shirt halfway off before he even noticed. He yelped slightly and tried to wiggle away. “I can undress myself.”
“And yet, here you are, still fully dressed.”
“I’m not getting undressed in front of you!”
Yoseob sighed and rolled his eyes before letting go and turning his back to Doojoon. “You do realize that I’ve seen you completely naked before, right?”
“I’m trying not to think about that,” Doojoon muttered, shucking his clothes and shutting the bathroom door tightly behind him. It didn’t keep him from hearing Yoseob’s annoyed reply that you’re so much more pleasant when you’re drunk, you know.
Once he had the water on and the temperature perfect, Doojoon slipped in and relaxed slightly. He leaned forward against the wall and sighed with contentment as the warm spray eased sore muscles and washed away the sticky, dusty feeling on his skin.
It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. He hadn’t realized that letting Gikwang call in a favor was going to send his already spinning life completely topsy turvy.
He’d woken up that morning to the long unfamiliar feeling of someone else in his bed. A mostly naked Yoseob had been wrapped around him like some kind of security blanket, warm and soft, tempting him to stay in bed. He’d buried a hand in the soft, fluffy hair of his bedmate, playing with it idly, and decided that there really wasn’t anything worth getting up for just then.
Asleep, everything about Yoseob seemed soft and inviting.
Doojoon had lain there, contentedly drowsing off and on until the other man had begun stirring, the lazy movement of Yoseob’s hips saying that he wasn’t quite willing to give up whatever held him in his dream land.
The contact had sent sparks of pleasure shooting up Doojoon’s body, short circuiting his brain for a few blissful minutes before reality had caught back up with him and he’d practically dumped Yoseob out of bed trying to clamber out of it himself.
It had been a rather pointed reminder that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten laid and that was just sad.
He made a face and sighed.
It was going to be even longer before he could remedy the problem. He wasn’t going to be able to get rid of Yoseob and lose himself in the anonymity of the club scene until Cheon was safe again.
A sponge pressed against his back, causing Doojoon to yelp and jerk away sharply, his feet slipping on the wet floor. Only Yoseob’s quick reflexes and strong arms kept the reporter from hurting himself.
“Whoa, man. You’re so jumpy.”
The lean, nude, wet body pressed against his made Doojoon’s blood rush first south, then back to his face as the situation solidified in his mind. The conflict left him faint. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Your awareness of your surroundings leaves a lot to be desired,” Yoseob scolded, letting Doojoon go once he was sure the older man had his feet steady again.
Doojoon scowled. “You have no concept of personal space, do you?”
Yoseob grinned, completely unrepentant. “It’s that thing for other people. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m not here to molest you. It’ll just be faster if we shower together.”
“Normal people don’t hop into other people’s showers.”
Of course, he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that very little about Yoseob could be classified as ‘normal’.
“Mil-i-tar-y,” Yoseob pronounced out slowly as if Doojoon had a single digit IQ or difficulty hearing. “Communal showering. Ask Kwangie if you don’t believe me.”
“That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it?” Doojoon sighed and rolled his eyes, pointedly keeping his back to Yoseob and refusing to give in to the urge to peek at anything. Though he hoped Yoseob would take the hint and return the favor, he suspected it was a vain wish.
So far the mercenary had had no qualms about taking advantage of the situation where it suited him. If he wanted to look, it wasn’t like Doojoon could stop him.
You do realize that I’ve seen you completely naked before, right?
He made a face and grabbed his shampoo. As he lathered it into his hair, he hoped it would take the overpowering odor of lemon out.
“Military service is a well-documented cause of all sorts of strange behavior in civilization,” Yoseob informed Doojoon as he went back to sponging off the older man’s back.
“Wouldn’t it be faster if you cleaned yourself up?”
“You can’t reach your back, I can’t reach mine.” Yoseob reached over his shoulder and dropped the sponge into his hands. “Your turn~”
“I’d rather not,” Doojoon muttered, glancing back over his shoulder to see Yoseob pouting at him.
“I washed yours. Fair’s fair.”
Doojoon let out a heavy sigh and turned around. Torturing himself with the temptation of a warm, attractive body under his hands just seemed like a bad idea all the way around, but he had a feeling that if he didn’t, he’d have Yoseob all up on him with that pouty expression of Doom.
That would be a lot worse than getting it over with as quickly as possible. Then he could scrub himself down, rinse his hair, and hop out to the relative safety of the bedroom and clothing.
A good look at Yoseob’s back compeletely derailed that train of thought. His grip slackened on the sponge and he almost dropped it as he swallowed hard. There were a scattering of round scars across his shoulders and down one side. Some were obviously healed bullet wounds, but others were too small, too perfectly round. Further down, long, jagged looking scars raked across his lower back.
Against his will, his fingers ran over the scarred skin in a gentle caress. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Huh?” Yoseob looked over his shoulder, trying to peer down at whatever Doojoon was looking at but not quite managing it. “Dunno, which one are you looking at?”
Doojoon’s fingers traced over the jagged lines. “Here.”
“Umm… Razor wire. Nasty stuff. Hurt like a motherfucker. The tetanus shot after wasn’t much better.”
“And these?” His touch trailed upwards to the small, perfect circles.
Again Yoseob tried to twist to see properly. “Could be a couple of things… Big circles or little ones?”
“Little.”
“Cigarette burns.”
“Big.”
“I…” His nose scrunched up slightly for a moment as he thought before Yoseob shrugged. “I don’t actually remember. DW might know if they’re newer ones.”
“And here?” He touched each of the more obvious bullet scars at the top of his shoulders, then down along his side and Yoseob laughed softly.
“Dude… You don’t want to know how many times I’ve been shot. I’ve been lucky so far. If I know someone’s going to be shooting at me, I usually wear a vest and no one going for a head shot has had very good aim.”
Doojoon hesitated for a moment before reaching up and brushing his fingers against the scar he’d noticed the first time he’d seen Yoseob - had that really only been the day before? - The one that ran from his ear down towards the front of his torso. “And this?”
Yoseob shifted around so that he was facing Doojoon and the older man could see the rest of the scar. It went all the way down, past his collar bone, down his chest, ending somewhere near his abdomen. His voice was sober this time as he touched the pale strip of skin with his own fingers. “Sword. Nearly got gutted that day. Sucked.”
“A sword?” Doojoon asked, skeptical.
“People do still use them, you know. Not often, but they’re pretty effective in the right hands.”
Doojoon’s hand didn’t quite make it all the way up to the scar on Yoseob’s forehead before it was captured and pulled down to the slim waist. In some dim corner of his mind he noted that he’d been right about Yoseob’s hands. They really were almost twice the size of his own.
“As much as I’d love to continue this exploration of my body to it’s natural conclusion,” Yoseob purred, pressing close. “This isn’t getting the shopping done.”
“Eh? That’s not- I wasn’t-” Doojoon flushed and looked away, embarrassed by how easily he’d let himself get distracted by Yoseob’s body. Even though there hadn’t been anything sexual about his distraction, he suspected that Yoseob would have turned it in that direction in other circumstances.
“Next time.” The smaller man pushed up onto his tiptoes and nipped at Doojoon’s lips before offering a remarkably chaste kiss, considering the situation and the promise in his voice.
Then he finished cleaning up, far more quickly than before, and slipped out of the shower, leaving Doojoon alone with his thoughts.
He sighed and leaned his head against the shower wall again.
When had his life become such a confusing mess?
“Hey~” A hand smacked against the wall near his head and he turned to see the distorted figure through water and plastic. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we get back. Then I can cook dinner. So snap to!”
“All right, already,” Doojoon muttered, rolling his eyes and grabbing the soap.
An hour later, Doojoon was watching with open fascination as Yoseob set upon the grocery store isles like some kind of Mad Scientist crossed with a Master Chef Extrordinaire.
He had a list - something Doojoon had never bothered with - and he was as exacting and picky about the items on it as he had been with the cleaning list he’d had that morning.
Whereas Doojoon tended to just toss things in the cart if they appealed to him at the moment, Yoseob spent almost an entire half hour in the fresh vegetables sifting through the produce to find exactly what he wanted. He squeezed and sniffed at the fruit. He set aside dozens of bundles of vegetables and herbs before choosing ones that looked exactly the same as the others to Doojoon.
Core raw ingredients that had never been seen inside Doojoon’s kitchen were selected in mass quantities.
Another ten minutes were spent choosing eggs, and though Doojoon had glanced around nervously, no one had given Yoseob a second look as he shuffled the contents of the various egg crates around until he had a full crate of exactly the eggs that he wanted.
At the butcher’s counter, Yoseob chattered easily and knowledgeably with the butcher.
For the most part, Doojoon just followed behind, pushing the cart and pondering the various things that found their way into it. A few items were completely alien to him and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of meals they’d make.
Occasionally, Yoseob asked him a question about allergies or preferences. He rolled his eyes whenever Doojoon replied with blank looks or confusion and hummed with approval whenever Doojoon had an actual answer for him.
He rolled his eyes a lot.
Paying might have been a squabble except Yoseob gave Doojoon a Look, which clearly said Put your credit card away before I cause a scene you won’t be living down any time soon. Doojoon was about 98% certain that whatever scene Yoseob caused wouldn’t actually hurt him, but given Yoseob’s penchence for getting up in his personal space, he could imagine what it would do.
Though he wasn’t exactly secretive about his sexuality, he didn’t see any point in broadcasting it to all the housewives in his neighborhood.
As he watched Yoseob pocket a receipt far larger than any he’d ever racked up for groceries before, Doojoon soothed his pride by promising himself that he’d do any paying there was to be done next time.
Getting all of the bags home was a challenge. At Yoseob’s insistence, they’d taken the bus to the market rather than his car. The mercenary was insistent that it not be driven until he’d had a chance to go over it himself to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with.
There was no way the bus was going to work getting back. Even if Doojoon could have managed to carry the bags, he’d have had to put his foot down.
There were limits to what he’d let himself get pushed into doing, after all.
Luckily, Yoseob conceded the point easily enough and they’d hailed down a taxi.
The doorman of his building was a stern, unsmiling man who was as likely to turn his nose up at a person as help them.
All it took was a bright smile from Yoseob as they entered the lobby - and a little bit of a wobble under weight that Doojoon was sure Yoseob could carry just fine - and the doorman was up in a heartbeat, taking a good half of the bags out of Yoseob’s hands though he left Doojoon to struggle with his own.
At their door - and it took a moment for that thought to fully sink in - Doojoon was sure he heard a disapproving mutter of about damn time you made an honest man of him, but he decided it was better for his sanity to just pretend he hadn’t.
The others hadn’t so much as budged from where they’d each passed out, Gikwang curled up on the couch and Cheon under the table, so Doojoon and Yoseob did their best to be quiet as they got everything into the kitchen and put away.
“You’re so bossy,” Doojoon muttered as Yoseob stopped him from just putting things into the closest cabinets and forced him to actually put them in specified places. “I didn’t think they took bossy people in the military.”
Yoseob just laughed softly. “They take anyone willing to sign the papers and able to make it through boot camp. Besides, you’ve met my grandmother.”
The older man considered that for a moment, remembering the stern, no-nonsense expression on Yunja’s face as she’d told him not to bring trouble into her place. He shuddered slightly. “True.”
“Don’t worry,” Yoseob reassured him. “Once you get used to it, you’ll like this better.”
“I don’t know. Bossy hasn’t ever really been a turn on.”
Yoseob sputtered with laughter and covered his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle the sound while Doojoon blushed slightly. He hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud.
Once the blonde had gotten control of himself again, he sauntered over to trap Doojoon against the counter. He gripped the counter on either side of Doojoon’s hips and leaned into the older man’s personal space. His sly grin, full of promise and seductive humor, did funny things to Doojoon’s stomach.
Or maybe that was just his libido.
“I meant the organization, but I’m sure I could convince you that bossiness has its place in the bedroom, too.”
It had been a really long time since he’d gotten laid and it really wasn’t fair that Yoseob was so tantalizingly attractive and willing.
Even as Doojoon’s mind hesitated, his body swayed closer. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm…” Yoseob’s lips were so very close, his breath brushed across Doojoon’s.
A kiss, a real kiss, not something staged for an audience, seemed inevitable and Doojoon had to face the fact that he wanted it, but Yoseob stilled, his head tilting slightly before he pulled away with an amused expression.
“Wha-”
“Hey, when did you guys get home?” Gikwang asked as he stretched full length, going onto his tiptoes in the doorway.
Doojoon had never really wanted to smother his friend quite as much as he did right at that moment.
“Not long ago,” Yoseob answered, his voice a shade huskier than normal, but otherwise unaffected. “You really should take a shower, Kwangie. I can smell you from here.”
Gikwang sniffed at his underarm and made a face. “If you weren’t a slave driver, Seobie…”
“Then you’d have just gone and worked out anyways. Go take a shower.”
It took Doojoon a minute to get his own breathing back to normal and he turned towards the counter, using the move to disguise it as he adjusted himself.
The sly, amused look from Yoseob said he wasn’t nearly as subtle as he’d hoped, but Gikwang didn’t seem to notice.
He pouted at Yoseob for a moment. “Why are you so bossy?”
Yoseob laughed and flashed Doojoon grin and a wink. “It’s just one of my charms.”
Doojoon made a face and went back to putting things away. It was something, all right, though he doubted charm was really the right word for it.
“Ooohh… Are you making bulgogi? Can I- Ouch! Why are you so mean?”
The smacking sound made Doojoon turn around to see Gikwang holding his hand against his lips with a wounded look while Yoseob threatened him with a wooden spoon.
“You haven’t showered yet. You’re filthy and you stink. You can touch the food when you’re clean.”
Gikwang turned to Doojoon, denial on his face. “I wasn’t actually going to touch anything!”
“Err…” Doojoon glanced between them before shrugging helplessly. “Maybe you should just hurry with your shower? Then you can help Yoseob cook?”
It was always a little disconcerting how quickly Gikwang shifted gears. He perked right up, turning hopeful eyes on Yoseob. “Can I?”
“Well….” Yoseob seemed to hesitate for a moment before giving in with a nod. “If you promise to do exactly what I say.”
“Awesome!” Gikwang vanished without another word, presumably to take the fastest shower ever and Yoseob sighed.
“You do realize that unless he’s changed a lot over the last few years that he’s an absolute disaster in the kitchen, right?”
He hadn’t known that, actually. There’d never really been any reason for Gikwang to have to do any actual cooking around Doojoon, though now that he htought about it, his friend’s fridge was mostly filled with salad trimmings, fruit, and protein bars.“Sorry?”
Yoseob just sighed and shook his head as he started arranging a few things on the counter nearest Doojoon’s rarely used stove. “No, it’s okay. He’s good at following directions, at least. And he handles a knife well.”
Doojoon didn’t really want to pursue that line of thought. Instead, he turned back to the groceries though he kept half his attention on his companion. “I swear, he seems to have de-aged since you showed up.”
“Kwangie?” Yoseob glanced in the direction Gikwang had gone. He shrugged, though his expression remained thoughtful. “He was always like that. Perfectly serious and mature one minute, a spazzing, bouncing ball of immaturity the next.”
“After…“ He hesitated for a moment, looking back at Doojoon. Those dark eyes held the same world-weary, too-old knowledge that sometimes peered at him from Gikwang’s. “I thought he’d lost that part of himself. I’m glad he didn’t. He isn’t really Kwangie if he takes himself too seriously.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what had happened, exactly. Over the years, Doojoon had gotten the impression that while the life itself hadn’t been the easiest, it had been one particular event that had made Gikwang cut off all ties with his past and start fresh in a place where his biggest worry was that some idiot would accidentally crush himself with the free weights. Yoseob had alluded to the same thing more than once.
Before he could make up his mind to ask or not, Gikwang reappeared, drying his hair roughly with a towel.
Doojoon frowned at the loose track pants that hung low on Gikwang’s hips. “Aren’t those mine?”
“When was the last time you actually wore them?” Gikwang countered with a cheeky grin. “You don’t get nearly enough exercise.”
With a snort, Yoseob shook his head. “That’s okay, he’s wearing my tank top. Aren’t your own clothes just next door?”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t want to take too long. I didn’t want you to change your mind! Besides, I knew neither of you’d actually care.” He crowded in next to Yoseob, letting his arms slip around his friend’s waist. Though Yoseob tensed for a moment, he relaxed back against the other man easily enough and the expression on his face left little doubt just how much he’d missed the closeness of his childhood companion over the years. “Oh, I had to borrow your underwear, too. Doojoon’s won’t fit me.”
“Ookay,” Doojoon said suddenly, sitting down the jar he’d grabbed. In no way, shape, or form, did he want to think about Gikwang in the bedroom trying on their clothes. “I think it’s time for me to go get Cheon up. She’ll need to clean up before dinner, after all.”
Their laughter followed him out of the room.
~*~*~
go to Chapter 4