Chapter Text
The meal was over, and Joong went back to wandering through the large hall, taking pictures of as many people as he could. Dunk was watching him from the table where he still sat, alone, since the others had already started joining other friends at other tables. The entire company had gathered for the annual team-building event, or “Outing,” as they called it.
Dunk had been looking forward to this moment; he had been eager to spend time with his friends who also worked at GMM TV — especially Pond and Ryu — but whom he rarely saw because of everyone’s busy schedules. But as hard as he tried to convince himself that this was the only reason for his excitement, he could not push aside the thought of sleeping in the same room as Joong again.
It had been so long since that happened. Budgets had probably increased recently thanks to the growing success of the shows, since GMM had been paying for individual rooms at the last events.
But this time, no. This time he would sleep in the same room as Joong. Like in the good old days.
For now, Joong had left the table and was busy taking pictures of everyone. He looked so passionate and artistic… Dunk admired him deeply.
He also looked incredibly cute in those pleated joggers and that navy-blue T-shirt. When he was raising the camera to his eye, the muscles in his arms were flexing, offering Dunk a distracting view. Those arms had been a source of torment for him these past few days.
Those days, the two boys were in the middle of boxing workshops for their upcoming shoot, and needless to say, muscles stood out more than usual during that kind of activity. Dunk’s willpower was being put to the test. Even more so when that idiot Joong spent half his time shirtless for God-knew-what reason, forcing Dunk to summon even more self-control. Poor him. He had known for a long time that he was doomed, but somehow, each time felt harder to handle than the last.
“Dare you to hook up with Joong tonight,” whispered a playful voice in his ear, startling him and pulling him out of his thoughts. Dunk turned toward his friend, who had just sat down next to him, his eyes wide as saucers.
“Do it yourself !” he shot back. “If you manage it with Phuwin, I’ll do it with Joong.”
“Dude… you know very well Phuwin and I aren’t like that…”
Pond’s tone almost sounded reproachful. Dunk knew perfectly well there was no ambiguity between the two, but he liked to imagine that his best friend was on the same side as him, that he understood him. Of course, Pond always claimed he understood, insisting that he didn’t need to be in the same situation to get it. And Dunk had to admit Pond’s support had been unwavering.
For four years, Pond had listened to him whine and question his future with Joong, without ever complaining. He had listened to him overanalyze everything and endlessly praise his co-star, never failing to offer advice. He had listened to the same problems millions of times and reassured him every single time. Pond truly was a golden friend, someone he could always count on.
But still, Dunk liked the idea of imagining him dating Phuwin. It was probably just his romantic and dramatic side.
“We aren’t either,” he retorted defensively. If his friend didn’t want to play along, he wouldn’t do it either. There was no way he would jeopardize what he had with Joong over a stupid bet. It was far too precious.
Pond raised an eyebrow, incredulous. Dunk sighed. “You know very well, Pond…”
“Okay, okay,” Pond conceded. “But I still think it could be a good idea. After all, you’re not going to stay stuck like this forever! A platonic relationship isn’t worth it, if you ask me. And living in secrecy without ever ripping off the bandage will bring you nothing good.”
“Pond, I’m not ready to lose him.”
“And who says you’re going to lose him?”
Pond’s voice rose. Was he losing patience? Maybe he had every reason to; after all, it was always the same story. But this time, Dunk hadn’t brought it up himself. And why had Pond challenged him with that ridiculous dare in the first place? He was Joong’s friend too — even more so since their group JASP.ER had been formed. Had he talked to Joong? Did he have some info?
Dunk narrowed his eyes.“You know something? Has he spoken to you?”
Pond waved both hands in denial, his face slightly panicked, which only deepened Dunk’s suspicion.“Spit it out, Pond,” Dunk demanded, his tone authoritative.
“There’s nothing to spit out,” Pond defended himself. “Anyway, I don’t need to know any secrets to see what’s happening.”
“What do you mean? What’s happening?” Dunk asked, his curiosity fully sparked.
“Dude, are we really going to have the same conversation we’ve had for four years?” Pond asked, pretending to sound tired. But Dunk knew very well that if he had to, Pond would still have it one more time.
“You’re going to tell me again that I should go for it, that he devours me with his eyes, that he’s clingy as hell…” Dunk listed, though deep down he heard what his friend had been saying all along, even if they circled back to it endlessly.
“You know what?” Pond interrupted, looking a little annoyed but at the same time fiercely devoted. “I’m not going to tell you that this time.”
Dunk was surprised by his friend’s determination. Even if Pond raised his voice, his devotion was heart-warming. Pond was truly a gift. So he stayed silent, waiting for the rest.
“In fact, you’re right to bring it up for the thousandth time, because this time, honestly, I think it’s different.”
Pond moved his chair closer, turned fully toward Dunk, and leaned his elbows on his knees. Okay, he was serious — dead serious.
“Your Joong is slipping through your fingers, man. If you keep burying all this inside you, he’s going to get discouraged. And judging by his behavior, it looks like he’s already decided to move on…”
Well. If Pond had wanted to create a shock, he succeeded. Dunk suddenly felt weak, his head light. Pond kept talking, more thoughtfully now.
“…even though his eyes are still screaming the opposite…”
A sudden urgency took hold of Dunk. He grabbed his glass of wine and downed it in one go. Pond stood up and patted him on the back.
“Do what you gotta do, man. It’s time to act and stop being scared.”
Then he walked away.
Pond had never spoken to Dunk like that before. Always reassuring and encouraging, he had never tried to push him like this. But maybe that was exactly what Dunk needed.
Either way, the result was the same: Dunk started drinking. And for someone who almost never touched alcohol — to avoid ruining his gym progress and because, honestly, he never had the time to go out — he quickly ended up tipsy.
Where was Joong? Where were his arms? Why weren’t they around his waist, holding him up?