Chapter Text
The air at the outdoor café was thick with the scent of iced Americanos and the typical, chaotic energy of the group. Dunk sat at the center of the table, his sketchbook open but largely ignored as he listened to Fourth and Gemini bickering over a philosophy assignment. Around them, the rest of the group: Pond,Phuwin,Aou, Boom, Santa and Perth, were deep in a heated debate about a weekend trip.
Then, the mood shifted. A shadow fell over the table, and Joong slid into the empty seat next to Dunk. He looked different today, too relaxed, his hair slightly disheveled in that specific way that only happens after a long, intense morning, and a satisfied, predatory glint in his eyes that made the skin on the back of Dunk's neck prickle.
Dunk leaned back, folding his arms. He caught that look, the way Joong seemed to be vibrating with suppressed energy, and he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips.
"You look far too pleased with yourself, Archen," Dunk teased, nudging Joong's knee with his own under the table. "What's with the smug face? Did you finally ace that midterm you were whining about?"
Joong chuckled, a low, smooth sound that seemed to draw the attention of the entire table. He rested his chin on his palm, his gaze drifting lazily to Dunk. "Better. That girl I've been after? The one from the Communications department?"
Phuwin, who had been quietly nursing his drink, looked up sharply. "The one you've been stalking for three weeks?"
Joong smirked, ignoring the jab. "She finally gave in. We hooked up this morning after class. And let me tell you," he added, his voice dropping just enough to feel intimate, "it was easily the best, most intense thing I've experienced in a long time."
Phuwin's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. "Wait…you hooked up in the university building?"
Aou barked out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, please, Phuwin. Don't act so shocked. I'd bet a month's rent that you and Pond have done way worse things in the library archives."
Pond, who had been lounging beside Phuwin, let out a slow, deliberate smirk. The effect was immediate; Phuwin's face flushed a deep, embarrassed crimson, and he quickly ducked his head, muttering something about needing another refill.
Dunk laughed, shaking his head. "You're all actually insane. I don't know how I ended up with this group."
Perth tapped the table, getting their attention. "Anyway, change of subject. First is throwing a house party tonight. It's been a hell of a week; we should all go. Just drink a bit, blow off some steam."
Dunk glanced down at his neglected architecture notes. "I don't know," he sighed. "I've got a massive critique on Monday. I should probably stay in and study."
Joong rolled his eyes, a dramatic gesture of protest. He stood up and moved behind Dunk, leaning over the back of the chair. He leaned close, too close, his breath warm against Dunk's ear.
"Come on, Dunkie," Joong murmured, his voice dropping into that persuasive, velvet register that made it impossible for Dunk to focus on anything else. "It's Friday. Let university be university for one night. Just come to the party. Please? For me?"
Joong's fingers brushed the back of Dunk's neck, a casual touch that felt like a bolt of electricity. "You can't seriously leave me alone with these eight idiots all night. You're my anchor, remember?"
Dunk looked up at him, caught in the gravity of Joong's dark eyes. Joong's smirk widened, sensing the wall crumbling.
"Besides," Joong whispered, leaning in closer, "you can just crash at my place afterward. My parents are away on a business trip in Shanghai. The house is empty. We could... catch up. Maybe play some games."
The invitation hung in the air, loaded with a meaning that only the two of them or so they thought, could feel. Dunk felt his resolve snap. It was just a party. It was just a night with his best friend.
"Okay, fine," Dunk said, his voice a little steadier than his heart. "You win."
Joong grinned, a look of triumph crossing his face that was entirely too bright. "Good. I'll pick you up at eight."
__________________________________
The party at First's house was exactly what Dunk expected: a blurred kaleidoscope of neon LED strips, the sticky smell of spilled gin, and a bassline so heavy he could feel it in his molars.
By midnight, the "eight idiots" had scattered. Aou and Boom were dominated the beer pong table, Santa and Perth were arguing over the playlist, and Pond was currently tucked into a corner sofa with Phuwin, the two of them looking suspiciously flushed as they whispered far too closely.
Dunk leaned against the kitchen counter, swirling a red solo cup. He felt a presence behind him before he heard it, that familiar scent of expensive cologne and something uniquely Joong.
"You're hiding," Joong's voice vibrated against Dunk's shoulder blade.
Dunk turned, his back hitting the counter. Joong was flushed from the heat of the room, his top two buttons undone, looking every bit the popular heartthrob he was. "I'm not hiding. I'm observing. There's a difference."
"You're boring," Joong countered, grinning. He took the cup from Dunk's hand, took a sip, and set it down behind him. "The group is moving to the basement. Someone found a bottle of Tequila and an old deck of cards. We're playing."
Dunk groaned. "Joong, no. Truth or Dare with this group always ends in someone crying or someone getting arrested."
"Scared?" Joong challenged, his eyes sparking. He stepped into Dunk's personal space, trapping him against the laminate. "Or are you just afraid of what I might ask you?"
"I'm not afraid of you," Dunk lied, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
"Prove it."
The atmosphere in First's basement had shifted from "fun Friday night" to "social minefield." There were nearly twenty people crammed into the space now. First, his teammates and the core group of ten. The air was thick with the smell of expensive cologne, sweat, and the sharp sting of lemon from the tequila shots being passed around.
Pond had already been dared to do a lap of the house in his boxers, returning with a smug grin that made Phuwin roll his eyes and blush. Aou had been forced to prank-call a professor, and Perth had just finished a dare that involved him drinking a concoction of three different sodas and a dash of hot sauce.
The bottle spun again, skittering across the floor until the neck pointed directly at Dunk.
"Finally!" Boom cheered, leaning forward. He was already a little tipsy, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Dunk, my man. You've been playing it way too safe tonight. Truth or Dare?"
Dunk wiped a bead of condensation from his beer bottle. He felt Joong's shoulder pressed firmly against his, a familiar, grounding weight. He'd always been the one who didn't get into trouble, but the tequila was humming in his veins, making him feel reckless.
"Dare," Dunk said, his voice steadier than he felt.
Boom's grin widened. He glanced at Joong, who was lounging back with an arrogant, "I'm untouchable" expression. Joong had spent the whole night bragging about the girl he'd hooked up with earlier; he looked completely bored by the idea of any dare involving him.
"I dare you," Boom said, pointing between the two of them, "to make out with Joong. Not a peck. A full-on, sixty-second, 'I forgot we were friends' make-out session."
The room erupted. "No way!" Fourth shouted, laughing.
Joong snorted, shaking his head. He looked at Dunk with a patronizing smirk, the kind that always got under Dunk's skin. "Relax, Boom. We're straight. That's just awkward for everyone. Pick something else, or Dunk can just take the penalty and down the rest of that bottle."
Joong was so sure Dunk would chicken out. He was counting on it. He wanted to see Dunk stutter and refuse.
But Dunk felt annoyed again. He always got annoyed whenever Joong acted like he had the upper hand. He looked at Joong's lips, then back at his smug eyes. He thinks I'm a coward, Dunk thought.
"I'll do it," Dunk said.
Joong's smirk faltered. "What?"
"It's just a dare, Joong," Dunk said, his heart starting to thud painfully against his ribs. "Unless you're the one who's uncomfortable?"
Joong's competitive streak flared. He sat up, his jaw tightening. "Me? Uncomfortable? Please. I've had enough girls today to not care about a minute with you. Fine. Let's go, Architecture boy. Show me what you've got."
Perth pulled out his phone. "Starting the timer in three... two... one... Go!"
Dunk didn't give himself time to think. He grabbed the front of Joong's shirt and hauled him in.
The first contact was jarring, teeth clinking slightly, the scent of Joong's minty breath and skin. But then, Joong, never one to lose a competition, took control. He tilted his head, his hand slamming onto the back of Dunk's neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.
It was supposed to be a joke. It was supposed to be gross. But as Joong's tongue swept against his, Dunk's brain went into a complete meltdown. This wasn't like kissing a girl; it was heavier, more urgent. Joong's grip on his neck was firm, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin behind Dunk's ear.
Dunk let out a muffled sound, half-gasp, half-groan and leaned into it, his own hands finding purchase in Joong's hair. Joong responded by pulling Dunk's body flush against his, his chest solid and warm. The kiss turned hungry, the friction of their lips creating a heat that made Dunk's toes curl. He forgot the twenty people watching. He forgot the timer. He only knew that Joong's mouth was the most addictive thing he'd ever tasted.
"Time!" Perth yelled.
They didn't break immediately. Joong lingered for a fraction of a second, his thumb stroking Dunk's jawline, before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. Joong looked dazed, his lips swollen and red.
"Sixty seconds," Joong murmured, his voice wrecked. "Not bad, Dunk."
Dunk wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his head spinning. "Just a dare, right?"
Joong smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. There was something hungrier there now. "Right. Just a game."
The air in the basement felt ten degrees hotter. The rest of the group was hooting and hollering, slapping Joong on the back and teasing Dunk about his "hidden talents," but the two of them were caught in a private vacuum.
Dunk's pulse was a physical weight in his throat. He looked at Joong, expecting to see the usual mockery, the "bro-ey" laughter that followed their usual antics. Instead, Joong was staring at him with a localized intensity that felt like being pinned to a wall.
"You okay, Dunk?" Pond asked, his voice cutting through the fog. He was looking at them with a sharp, perceptive squint.Pond was always too observant for his own good.
"Yeah," Dunk said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and took a massive swing of his beer, the bitter liquid doing nothing to wash away the taste of Joong's tongue. "Just... that was a lot of cardio for one minute."
"My turn to spin," Joong announced suddenly, his voice regaining its edge. He didn't look at Dunk as he reached for the bottle. He spun it with enough force that it rattled against the floorboards like a frantic heartbeat.
The game continued for another hour, but the vibe had shifted. Every time the bottle spun, Dunk felt a spike of anxiety. He watched Joong out of the corner of his eye. Joong was acting "normal" again, laughing at Fourth's terrible dancing dare, making fun of Santa, but he kept shifting his weight, his hand constantly returning to his mouth, his thumb tracing his lower lip where Dunk had bitten him.
Finally, around 2:00 AM, the room started to thin out.
"I'm done," Perth groaned, flopping back onto a beanbag. "I can't feel my face, and I have a 9:00 AM lab tomorrow."
"We should head out too," Joong said, standing up. He reached down, grabbing Dunk's forearm to haul him up. The contact was brief, but Dunk felt a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm. "My car's outside. You're coming with me, right?"
Dunk hesitated. He remembered the empty house. The parents in Shanghai. His brain tells him to say no and walk home.
"Yeah," Dunk said, trying to sound casual. "I'm not walking back in this weather."
"Later, guys!" Joong waved a hand at the remaining group.
As they walked up the basement stairs and out into the cool night air, the silence between them was deafening. The walk to Joong's sleek black sedan was punctuated only by the crunch of gravel under their shoes.
Joong unlocked the car and they slid inside. The interior smelled like Joong, leather and that expensive, woody cologne. Usually, this was Dunk's safe space, the place where they talked about football or complained about professors. Tonight, the space felt too small.
Joong didn't start the engine immediately. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
"That was..." Joong started, his voice low.
"A dare. I know," Dunk finished quickly, staring out the passenger window at the dark trees. "You don't have to say it. It was weird."
"I wasn't going to say it was weird," Joong said. He turned his head, his profile sharp in the dim glow of the streetlights. "I was going to say you're a surprisingly good actor, Natachai. For a second there, I actually thought you were enjoying yourself."
Dunk's blood boiled. The denial, the sheer, arrogant denial in Joong's voice, tripped his competitive switch. He turned to face Joong, his eyes narrowed. "I could say the same to you. You weren't exactly pulling away, Archen. In fact, I'm pretty sure you were the one who started using tongue first."
Joong's jaw ticked. He leaned over, his shadow looming over Dunk in the cramped cabin. "I'm a perfectionist. If I'm going to do a dare, I'm going to do it right."
"Right. Perfectionism," Dunk mocked, his heart racing. "Is that what you call it?"
Joong reached out, his hand hovering near Dunk's neck before he pulled it back and gripped the gear shift instead. He slammed the car into drive. "Let's go. I still have that bottle of premium whiskey at my place. And I'm not done with you yet."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Joong flashed a wicked, dangerous smirk, the one that usually meant trouble for everyone else, but tonight, it felt like it was reserved just for Dunk. "It means the party is over, but the game isn't. I dare you to stay the whole night."
Dunk leaned back into the leather seat, a defiant heat spreading through his chest. "Challenge accepted."