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Fuck, this damn bastard.
It was all Yoo Joonghyuk’s fault.
Kim Dokja squeezes the flab that has accumulated on his stomach. He pinches his thighs, seeing how much fat has gathered. It bounces back at him, as if to mock him entirely. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least.
Ugh… it must’ve been the food that Yoo Joonghyuk was feeding him. He’d been getting a full three meals a day now, compared to the only one he’d been having daily when living alone. Granted, they were good meals, but…
No, he couldn’t have any complaints about them. Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to have cared more for his wellbeing than he did. It was a little surprising, seeing how much another person could actually care for him. Really, cooking meals was one thing, but he’d spam him with texts, making sure that he’d actually eaten them.
He’d be lying if he said his quality of life hadn’t drastically improved ever since he’d gotten with Yoo Joonghyuk, but…
This was something else, something else entirely. The slight chub on his belly stares directly into his eyes, glinting under the fluorescent bathroom lights.
For his entire life, he’d been skinny. Malnourished, more specifically. He’d been as thin as a stick throughout middle school. Through high school, it was the same story. It made him an easier target for bullies, for sure, but he couldn’t do much about it. He didn’t have money to afford any extra food.
During his university days, it’d gotten a little better. He had more access to meals, but he still had to ration. At no point in his life did his body look like this.
He looks at his own reflection in the mirror, pinching at his cheek. Even his face looks a little wider than before. He grimaces.
Having flab on his body, no matter how little it is, makes him feel a little…
Yoo Joonghyuk knocks at the door. “Kim Dokja?”
“Hm?” Kim Dokja’s head snaps to the noise. The doorknob to it shakes frantically, as if Yoo Joonghyuk’s about to break in. “Hey, wait! Give me a sec…”
“Kim Dokja.” The doorknob jiggles even harder. If this goes on for any longer, they’d have to pay to get it fixed. Damn Yoo Joonghyuk and his stubborn personality…
“Okay, okay!” Kim Dokja cries, shuffling back into his shirt. His pants are ruffled, half on before he finally unlocks the door. Yoo Joonghyuk bursts in immediately, his eyes tinged slightly red, his breathing quick.
“What, did you need to take a dump that badly?”
Yoo Joonghyuk ignores him. “What—what were you doing?” It’s an accusatory tone, sharp and glinting right at him. He averts his eyes.
“Are you really that interested in my bowel movements?” Kim Dokja scoffs, biting at his lips. His ears are tinged red as he takes in the accusation, swallowing down the discomfort that arises within his throat. Yoo Joonghyuk pulls him into a hug.
“Oof, ah!” Kim Dokja sputters. The arms around him are tight, unrelenting. They grip at him with no intent of letting go. “Were you really that worried over me taking a shit?”
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk grits. His voice sounds awfully strained. It’s a sign for him to finally shut up.
After that, Kim Dokja thought he’d have no issues from here on forward. It was just a mishap, caused by him staying in the bathroom for a little too long. Yoo Joonghyuk had freaked out over nothing.
Oh how wrong he was.
He’d taken smaller portions of Yoo Joonghyuk’s home-cooked meals, but he noticed. Of course he noticed. He hadn’t been discreet about it, after all. He just didn’t expect Yoo Joonghyuk to catch on this quickly.
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk grumbles with that perfectly handsome face of his. “Eat more.”
He piles a bunch of rice into his bowl, the one that he’d emptied a little while ago.
“I’m full,” Kim Dokja glares. “You’re trying to fatten me up and eat me, aren’t you?”
“Stop with your nonsense.” Yoo Joonghyuk grabs his bowl, somehow managing to pack even more rice. Then, on the side, he slides the rest of the banchan towards him. It clinks against the counter.
Kim Dokja swallows the bile that arises within his throat. He’d been gaining weight recently. Too much weight. If he gained any more, it really wouldn’t be good for him. It wouldn’t be good at all.
There’s no rhyme or reason behind it. The feeling of it on his body feels completely wrong. He notices it when he sits, the rolls on his stomach forming, discomfort arising. His body feels warmer nowadays than it’s ever been before. It doesn’t feel natural. It doesn’t feel like his own body.
He looks down at his stomach. It’s covered by his baggy shirt, but he can tell. It’s not the same as he’d been a year ago. It’s a thought that brings him no comfort at all.
“Omurice,” Yoo Joonghyuk blurts. “If this is not to your liking, I’ll cook some omurice.”
Kim Dokja shakes his head, a smile on his face. “It’s fine. I’m not feeling well.”
“Don’t lie to me, Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk gives him a glare. “I’ll cook something else. Tell me, what do you want?”
Perceptive brat.
Kim Dokja swallows, looking off to the side. The wooden flooring seems particularly interesting today. The grain goes a particular way, aged lines swarming. “I’m not lying. I’m really not feeling well right now.”
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t seem to be having any of it, though. His palm, warm and comforting, scoops up Kim Dokja’s cheek. He nearly melts into his touch.
“Are you worried about your weight?”
Kim Dokja gulps. This bastard really is too perceptive. He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Yoo Joonghyuk’s question is obviously a rhetorical one. Answering or not answering—both options were obviously a trap. He’s really got him cornered. Kim Dokja mumbles something unintelligible.
“Why?” His palm shifts his face, enough so that he can see Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes. His eyebrows are furrowed, the signature Yoo Joonghyuk expression for worry. His forehead wrinkles, his face almost in the semblance of a pout. It makes his heart ache.
“Ah…” Kim Dokja sighs. He swallows again, the words catching in his throat.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t press any further. He only pecks at Kim Dokja’s lips, pressing lightly as possible. A reassurance, if just a small one. Kim Dokja finds the corners of his mouth lifting at that.
They separate too quickly. Way too quick. It feels as though it happened for less than a second. The warmth still ghosts at Kim Dokja’s lips, urging him for more.
The small spark ignited by Yoo Joonghyuk seems to have lit something inside of him.
“Hm,” Kim Dokja smiles, his lips turning upwards only briefly. “Let’s take this somewhere else, Joonghyuk.”
He pulls Yoo Joonghyuk back in for a kiss. The wrinkles on his brow have disappeared, softening. Kim Dokja closes his eyes as he sees that, taking it in. The warmth from their lips seeps, overwhelming.
A small string of saliva—glistening like a singular strand of spiderweb, forms between their lips. Yoo Joonghyuk breaks it apart with his tongue. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he takes in Kim Dokja’s face. His warm breath fans over sensitive skin, and Kim Dokja resists the urge to hiss.
Yoo Joonghyuk picks him up in one practiced motion. Kim Dokja nearly yelps, crying out, but he bites down on his lips in time. The turbulence is rough, but it’s quickly over as he’s plopped down onto the bed.
“Give me some warning next time…” he grumbles. His arms grasp onto Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck for leverage, releasing as he feels himself hit the bouncy mattress.
Yoo Joonghyuk simply hums at the reprimand. He’s too preoccupied with something else. Unclothing Kim Dokja. Rustling and shifting erupt from where his hands touch him, and Kim Dokja shimmies along.
He has to resist the urge to pull his clothes back down, to ask Yoo Joonghyuk to turn off the lights. It’s at the tip of his tongue, begging to be freed, but he knows. It’ll only worsen the situation if he says anything like that.
Yoo Joonghyuk releases a breath as he pulls down his underwear. Kim Dokja’s cock bobs out, already semi-erect. It’s embarrassing, having Yoo Joonghyuk so close to him. They’ve done this before, yes, but… there is no other explanation he could provide. It just feels weird.
He turns over, facing away from Kim Dokja as he pops open the cap to a bottle of lubricant. He smears it all over his fingers, taking great care in spreading it across every single digit. Then, he turns back to face him, his eyes dark.
“You’re ready?”
“You don’t have to ask every time, you know…”
As usual, his words simply pass in through one ear and out the other. Yoo Joonghyuk proceeds to press against his rim, spreading the lubricant, rather than gracing him with any concrete answer.
They finally press inside of him, drawing a whimper from his throat. It rumbles a little as Yoo Joonghyuk fingers him deeper, prodding against his prostate. It’s a sensation that he’s experienced countless times before, but each time feels as though he’s experiencing it anew.
“Mmm,” Kim Dokja groans. Ah, fuck. He feels himself losing control already. They hadn’t done this in so long, too long. Yoo Joonghyuk was busy. That’s what he’s been telling himself. But Kim Dokja knows, he’s been distant too. Sleeping earlier, turning off the lights to their room—Yoo Joonghyuk had no choice but to quietly slip into bed after he did, not a peep from his lips.
They’d talk and such in the morning, but it was never enough time for this. It wouldn’t be completely honest of him to say part of this wasn’t caused by his gaze focusing too much on the changes in his body.
Ah, he should’ve been more observant. Yoo Joonghyuk must have thirsted for moments like these too. He should’ve been more wary of how he felt. Such a thing was too selfish for him to do, withdrawing with no other words slipping past his lips.
But it’s no matter to him right now. He can’t pay attention to it when Yoo Joonghyuk presses completely against his prostate, wringing a moan out of him. The jolts through his body make him thrash, the sensations already too much. But, he hungers for more. He always does.
They leave as quickly as they came. His fingers, soaked in lube, look absolutely obscene. Kim Dokja only has a moment to catch his breath before the thick head of his cock prods against his hole.
“Agh…” he groans. “Put it in, Joonghyuk-ah.”
Yoo Joonghyuk obliges, entering. “Fuck…” His groans are low in nature, a deep richness to his voice that makes Kim Dokja shiver. It’s enticing, hearing such words, but from this angle he can see it. His belly rolling up, fat gathering.
His gaze is noticed by Yoo Joonghyuk. Of course it is. Hands come up to grasp at his stomach, pressing directly into the fat. It makes him feel everything deeper, the cock pressing directly inside of him, burning pure white into his retinas, for just a moment. But, it’s not long enough to take the image of his own body out of his mind.
He hates how it looks, hates how Yoo Joonghyuk’s thumbs dig deep into the plush flesh, indents forming where they hadn’t formed before. The last few times they’d had sex, it wasn’t like this. He didn’t have to face his unsightly body directly. He didn’t have to see how his belly rolled up, Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands stark against his body. They jut out, unnatural to how it’s always been.
Before, Kim Dokja’s waist could fit in between both palms perfectly. Nothing would slip out, his stomach flat.
Now, it seems like no matter what, the flesh slips out between the cracks of his fingers. His palms, big, still encompass his waist, but it makes him feel uncomfortable.
“Don’t think, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunts, his voice shaky. “Don’t think—fuck, you look so good.”
His grunts grow low, high, and low, alternating like an electric current, buzzing constantly. With his hands against his stomach, Yoo Joonghyuk pulls out, dragging. The fingers dig deep. It wouldn’t be a surprise if they left bruises.
Kim Dokja gasps, his mouth open wide like a fish. “Nngh… ah!”
Of course, he can’t think when Yoo Joonghyuk fucks into him as such. He pounds within, a relentless shake. Bottoming out, then a full thrust in again. Again and again. Rough, just how he likes it. Enough to drive all stray thoughts from his mind.
It shakes the bed. He can feel it in the pit of his stomach. Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers press, tracking trails of lube against his stomach. It amplifies the sensation, burning a hole through his belly. A pit has formed, his stomach throbbing with each insistent thrust.
“Ugh, hah!” Kim Dokja cries.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t stop, no. He continues to fuck, his stamina too high, a caliber unknown by normal humans. The pace is quick, overwhelming, driving all other senses away. Right now, he can only focus on Yoo Joonghyuk’s length, boring a hole through him.
His own cock flops uselessly, slapping against his stomach. Yoo Joonghyuk bottoms out once more, fucking into him one last time. Release spills into him with a rumble of a groan, and nothing more.
Kim Dokja’s eyes roll back at such, his own cock spurting against his own stomach. “Hah…” he breathes. It’s a sigh, one of relief. Tiredness stumbles over him, tripping against him and pulling him nearly to sleep. It’s only when Yoo Joonghyuk pulls out does he jolt awake.
The come that has flooded his insides spills out. Kim Dokja groans at the feeling, the wet stickiness hitting him. The afterglow of sex burns above him, but it’s not enough to dispel the disgust that washes over him as he looks at the mess on his own belly.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand—the clean one—comes up to cover his eyes. His arm pushes him to the bed, blankets quickly pulled over them both. He’s too tired to release any noise of protest.
Under Yoo Joonghyuk’s palm, his eyes slowly close shut. His head, resting against the pillow, rolls over as his hand moves away. A drowsiness comes, pressing insistently against his eyelids. But words break him out of his sleepy spell.
“You don’t have to worry about your weight,” Yoo Joonghyuk mumbles. “You… you look better now than before. Don’t worry.”
Kim Dokja’s eyes flit open. They take in the sight of Yoo Joonghyuk, under no light except the moonlight filtering in through the windows.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrow twitches immensely after those words come out. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
Kim Dokja laughs. The attempt to comfort him was poor, but…
It would be a lie to say it solved everything immediately. Nothing in life is like that. But, it is enough, for now.