through the looking-glass (слэш)

Kim Dokja slaps his hands over Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth without really thinking.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says frantically.
He feels Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips curve into a frown under his palm, ticklish and hot against that sensitive skin. He ekes out an odd sound and jerks back, yelping again when the back of his head collides with the wall.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression turns more bewildered than reprimanding. “What is with you?”