salvageable | does a sick backflip

[ No it doesn't??

Confusion flits past his gaze, and for a moment, the cloudiness over his eyes clears for a moment as Dokja registers the fact that they're... both in bed? In one bed? He draws back from the hand on his shoulder, almost flinching away, and grabs the sheet in a hurry as if meaning to pull it off of him, but then he stops.

As if a reel of film is fixing itself back into place, frames shuttering in motion, the dazed look on his face returns. His moment of clarity now gone, Dokja sits up with a grunt, one hand pressed over his eyes. What had been the question again? ]

My face...? [ Literally who asks if someone's okay like that. ] I had a dream...

[ He trails off. It... had been a dream, hadn't it? It had felt all too real, a memory where he'd been close to losing someone, but. That person had been right there when he'd woken up. ]

[ Why is it that today is the day where all of Dokja's mannerisms are wrong—like he doesn't know this man at all. It shouldn't scare him, but it does. his hand retracts, drawing back to his side, and the tension only grows as he's to himself.

At the same time, he starts to wonder if he's the one that's strange. If how he feels is off—quickly, she shakes off those doubts with an intense scowl. ]

Don't move around too abruptly. You'll aggravate your migraine. [ No matter the universe, Joonghyuk is an annoying narc. ] ... Another nightmare?

What is it about?

[ He hesitates, grateful for the hand over his eyes because they shake anxiously at the... the dream? The memory? It had felt so real, so vivid, the emotions so strong that they nearly knock the breath out of him even now.

You wanted to kill me comes the unspoken accusation. Over a stupid misunderstanding. No, a betrayal...? It must have been. Dokja had been prepared to let it happen, but then—

His hand drops from his eyes to cover his mouth, complexion ashen when it comes back to him. ]

I... I don't remember. [ Liar. ] My head hurts too much. I can't think.

[ Any excuse to not have to talk about it, to stew in his thoughts on his own some more. ]

[ Why is Dokja always a little shit... Joonghyuk has his doubts. Again, he knows Dokja usually plays the game of staying quiet, letting it fester, and using words and behaviors to obscure intent. However, in the end, what's true is the his partner is suffering a massive headache. It will get worse if he tries to push, so it has to wait for tomorrow.

Even if the other man shifted away from him, seemed more comfortable as they're apart, Joonghyuk brings him closer and plops them both onto the bed. He bundles Dokja into the blankets like a burrito, caging him here where he knows he's safe.

... Where is that fear coming from? ]

Sleep.

[ 💪 built this way.

There's something that weighs uncomfortably against his chest as Joonghyuk bundles him up and Dokja doesn't think it's the tight press of the blankets around him. While he normally finds comfort in small and secure spaces, there's an unfamiliar restrictiveness about this. Or is it because of the person doing this to him?

It's new. He's never felt so much like a stranger around Joonghyuk before... Right? Almost as if every action the other man takes is foreign and odd and not... ordinary.

He's thinking too much again, so much so that it's practically deafening. About that dream. About how there's been a sudden shift in how he perceives Joonghyuk. Dokja's not going to be able to fall asleep. Maybe if he just closes his eyes... But he can't hide the furrow between his brows, the downturn of the corners of his lips, the way his breathing slips unevenly past his lips. ]

does a sick backflip

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