salvageable | does a sick backflip

[ Well, Dokja gets a break as Joonghyuk scrapes through the room, picking up all of the clothes and dropping them into the laundry basket nearby. If any of them were newly washed or barely worn, he isn't going to double check. He will have to rely on his eyes since sniffing it is out of the question. It's also weird.

The strewn tomes and papers are also collected into his arms with each one being browsed page by page. The notes aren't at all surprising to him—Dokja is an obsessive type. He has heard from his mother, so there's enough concern for Joonghyuk to tuck away. It will nurture his growing suspicion and paranoia. For now, it stays dormant as he slides the notebooks onto the shelf. ]

You're going to miss breakfast.

[ He says from across the room while stowing the papers into the desk drawer. ]

[ For a moment, Dokja thinks he can drift back asleep under the covers like this, his breaths slowing and evening back out as the sounds of someone shuffling around the room melt into background noise. But before he can tip over the edge and return to sleep, a familiar voice disturbs him back to consciousness.

It's not at all surprising that it's Yoo Joonghyuk moving about the room, and just from that alone, Dokja knows to give up all attempts at falling back asleep. He knows that Joonghyuk is going to be relentless about this, so to save both the time and energy (which he doesn't even have in the first place), Dokja pushes the covers off from over his head so he can squint up at the ceiling instead, taking a moment to adjust his eyes to the light. He looks as tired as he feels. ]

Is there coffee...?

[ His voice comes out mumbled and sleep-laden. He's never really been much of a coffee drinker, but he's going to need something to keep him awake. ]

[ As Dokja leers at the ceiling with his crusty eyes, Joonghyuk comes into view. He doesn't hover just yet, simply casting his gaze down to look at the bundle of weariness. Quiet at first, he thinks about how long it has been since he has seen Dokja's face. While the rest of the company had visited his comatose body every single day, but he chose his grave elsewhere. Perhaps, he thought it would have made him closer to Dokja in spirit... If he were to die in some galaxy, spreading the story they created about him, for him.

But those days are behind him. The days ahead seem brighter... Aside from job hunting for both of them. Arms crossed, he does hover just a little bit to see him better. ]

There is, but you will need to customize it yourself.

[ Granted, Joonghyuk thinks that Dokja would at most put some kind of milk in it... The guys might be a boring drink person, not that he can judge when Joonghyuk is a black coffee drinker. ]

You look awful.

[ By the way. ]

[ As if the sunlight blasting into his room isn't enough, now he has to stare up at Joonghyuk's perfect face. Dokja's expression quickly grows cross, eyebrows scrunching together in dismay at his appearance being judged first thing in the morning. ]

I don't want to hear that from you.

[ You will never know a normal man's struggle, Yoo Joonghyuk.

With a loud groan to demonstrate how much he hates the idea of getting out of bed, Dokja turns over until he's face down on his pillow, mildly suffocating himself in the process. He may not be falling back asleep, but that doesn't mean he's going to make the rest of this easy. ]

Five more minutes.

[ Except it comes out sounding a lot more like garbled nonsense considering he's got his face smashed into his pillow. ]

[ He has some wrinkles now? And some grey hair that Dokja can parse some of them in his pitch black hair.

As Dokja tries to snuggle back into the comforts of his pillow and sheets, Joonghyuk stays hovered, watching him try to escape the morning and the day. Usually, he would hassle him out because a day spent sleeping is a day wasted, especially during the scenarios... But that's over. There are also no plans for them to get to, either.

It seems that Dokja is spared five minutes and he may hear footfalls leaving the room. He could even have ten whole minutes. Fifteen, maybe, before the aroma of food wafts in. IS HE GOING TO KEEP TRYING TO SNOOZE. ]

[ NO HE'S AWAKE NOW but on his phone.

When Joonghyuk walks back in, Dokja at least manages to look up from the screen at the smell of food. He's reminded of how little he's eaten in the last 24 hours, thoughts occupied by anything and everything but food up until this very moment. As always, it smells delicious, and it actually manages to get him to put his phone down as Dokja struggles to sit up in bed.

Resting his back against the headboard, he tries for an expression that doesn't look completely depressed, but it doesn't have the intended effect. With his mussed up hair, gaunt face, and dark circles under his eyes, there's really little to save him appearance-wise. Even so, he tries, one corner of his lip straining to lift as he looks up at Joonghyuk. ]

I would've gotten up.

[ Fortunately for Dokja is that Joonghyuk didn't return to his room with salad and boiled chicken breast. Instead, the wafting aroma is pollock soup. He can see it and a number of side dishes on the tray Joonghyuk ferries to the nightstand beside the bed, hot enough for steam to trail up. The same can be said about the coffee cup, which is accompanied by a cup of mineral water and a small tray of sugar cubes.

Once Joonghyuk pulls over the overbed desk, breakfast is officially offered and presented upon it. It makes it easier to realize that these portions are... Large. Dokja should be able to tell that these aren't the usual servings from the cafeteria. ]

You took too long.

[ For the moment Joonghyuk lingers, he catches Dokja's glance. In comparison, he's doing well... But his handsome face can persevere any sign of stress or mental illness. Han Sooyoung wrote him that way. There is an otherworldly weariness in his dark gaze, one that Dokja does not know, and they narrow as he studies his pallid face.

... The unfamiliarity goes both ways. Joonghyuk sees a different Dokja, but he knew this would happen since the start of his intergalactic journey.

It's still Joonghyuk, so perhaps Dokja can—not read—see him. He can see how his gaze softens now, how it narrowed earlier out of concern. Or he can deny it if it's too much to accept. ]

You didn't sleep well?

[ Don't mind if he takes a seat nearby. Nothing in his hands, no phone or book, his attention is on the other man and their conversation. Joonghyuk, no longer in his usual attire, looks like a simple man. How weird is that? ]

[ Not all that weird. To Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk will always be Yoo Joonghyuk, and despite the plain clothes and the quieter gaze, he still elicits a warm familiarity that cuts across otherwise foreign surroundings. It's hard to believe that after everything, they've still found a way to each other, but maybe that had just been Dokja who had convinced himself it was impossible.

He drops his gaze down on the tray in front of him, smile disappearing as his gut does a strange twist at how much care was taken with each item. He doesn't understand the mounting guilt that rises from his chest and creates a hard lump in his throat, doesn't understand why he feels both present in this room yet somewhere else. Somewhere far away. Dokja had been made whole again, the gaps in his memory filled, new memories nudging each other aside for space, and he feels overwhelmed by it all.

This is where he belongs, he tells himself. But for a year and a half, he'd belonged elsewhere.

Quietly, he reaches for the sugar cubes, deliberately delaying his response to Joonghyuk's question as he drops the cubes into the cup of coffee one by one. It's probably too much, but better that it be too sweet than too bitter. ]

... Still getting used to the differences in days, I guess.

[ As he stirs his coffee, he finally looks up to meet Joonghyuk's gaze with a distant one of his own. ]

You remember Springstar, don't you? We didn't have nights back there.

[ Only one person here is uncomfortable. Joonghyuk himself is content and placated—scowl less intense, frown less disapproving, it may be the closest thing to happiness he has felt in a long while. Dokja is where he belongs. After so many years, another regression against the scenarios, and another era without him, the man who held the answer to what it means to survive and live breathes before him.

They can set out all they wanted to do in a world without scenarios, whether it be picnics by the Han river, visits to PC bangs, attending graduation ceremonies... They can lead normal lives. Joonghyuk's chest swells with warmth as these vivid daydreams wind in his mind. This is the conclusion they deserve and it feels right.

... At least, it should. ]

I do, but for Han Sooyoung and I that was years ago.

[ His memory is a curse and the amnesia granted to him before might have been a blessing. Leaning back into his seat, he crosses his legs, but his expression stays neutral as his emotions still like water. Perhaps snuffed is a better word with every purpose to obscure and hide. ]

You're still thinking about that place.

[ Even though you're finally home. ]

does a sick backflip

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