Chapter Text
Dunk has spent years passionately telling his friends- ever since university- that he would never date a cop. Cops are beneath him, he insists. The career is pathetic, the system corrupt, and the people who join it? Either power-hungry or brainwashed. His friends laugh, but Dunk means it.
Everything changes the day he escorts his best friend, Phuwin, to the police station.
Phuwin's expensive designer watch was stolen during a small party he hosted recently. Dunk had been there, sipping wine and mocking the idea of trusting anyone, especially cops- to solve anything. But Phuwin insisted on filing a report anyway.
Now, standing inside the bustling station, Dunk scans the room with distaste. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and the air smells like stale coffee and cheap disinfectant. Officers shuffle paperwork, and a drunk man slurs complaints in the corner.
Typical.
"It's a shame one of our friends is a thief," Dunk mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Phuwin sighs, rubbing his temple. "Right? Never trust anybody in this life, Dunk."
Dunk pouts dramatically, voice filled with fake hurt. "Not even me?"
Phuwin rolls his eyes but smiles, patting Dunk's back. "You're my better half. You don't count."
Dunk grins, victorious- until his expression hardens again. "I hope these morons can actually help us."
Phuwin chuckles. "Maybe they can't, but we still have to report it."
"For what?" Dunk scoffs.
"Because they do help sometimes. Dunk, cops aren't that useless."
"Name one time they've helped anyone we know."
Phuwin raises an eyebrow. "How many people do you know who've had a brush with the law? You're just being a hater."
"Can you blame me?" Dunk crosses his arms. "These guys are corrupt. They only help if there's something in it for them."
Phuwin shakes his head. "Alright, but try not to say that out loud here, okay?"
***
Meanwhile, across the room, Officer Joong Archen glances up from his desk and freezes.
Two newcomers have just walked in. One is undeniably attractive, but the other, the one on the left, makes Joong's breath catch.
Tall. Pretty. Dressed simply in a fitted T-shirt and jeans, but somehow stunning. His sharp eyes scan the room with irritation, his lips pressed into a frown.
Joong is taken.
He clears his throat and waves them over. "Over here! How can I help?"
Dunk turns. And his words die in his throat.
The officer is gorgeous. Warm brown eyes, a strong jaw, and a smile that makes something flutter in Dunk's chest. He's fit, too, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform perfectly-
Wait.
Uniform.
Dunk's stomach drops.
Of course. The hottest guy he's seen in years, and he had to be a cop. The one thing Dunk can't stand.
Gross.
Phuwin nudges him forward, and Dunk forces himself to approach the desk.
"Officer Archen," the man introduces himself, voice smooth and warm. "What brings you in today?"
Even his voice is nice, Dunk thinks bitterly. What a waste. Cops should be ugly.
Phuwin explains the stolen watch, and Joong nods, taking notes. Dunk's eyes wander, and then he spots a familiar keychain on the desk.
"Is that the Legend of Zelda?" Dunk blurts before he can stop himself.
Joong's face lights up. "You play?"
And just like that, they're gone, trading favorite games, debating strategies, laughing over shared frustrations with impossible bosses. Dunk forgets, for a moment, where they are. Forgets the uniform.
Joong leans in slightly. "What level are you on Elden Ring?"
Dunk smirks. "Further than you, probably."
Joong laughs, low and warm. "Confident, huh? I'd like to see that."
Their eyes lock and something sparks. Dunk's pulse jumps.
Then reality crashes back.
He's a cop.
Dunk tears his gaze away, clearing his throat and straightening his posture. He glances at Phuwin, who's watching him with way too much amusement.
Joong blinks, thrown by the sudden shift. Did we just...? But Dunk's walls are back up, his expression closed off. Joong forces himself to focus on the report.
Still, he can't help stealing glances. Dunk notices, but tries to ignore the way his skin warms under the attention.
At 24, Dunk knows when someone's into him. And Officer Archen? Definitely is.
Which is terrible, because Dunk felt it too- that easy, electric connection. But it doesn't matter. He's a cop.
Joong drags out the questions longer than necessary, just to keep Dunk there a little more. Finally, he takes a breath.
"This might be... unprofessional," Joong admits, rubbing his neck. "But can I get your number? I'd like to see you again."
Dunk's heart stops.
Phuwin's eyebrows shoot up. Dunk's face burns. He opens his mouth...
"No," he blurts. Then he grabs Phuwin's arm and bolts.
"Ouch," Phuwin hisses as they hurry out.
Dunk's chest is tight. "Imagine his audacity. Asking me out. Do I look like I'm on his level?"
The words taste sour. He doesn't even mean them. His head is spinning.
Phuwin glances back, then smirks. "For the record? He's still staring. And I get why he asked. You two were flirting."
"He's a cop."
Phuwin rolls his eyes. "That's your argument? Really?"
Dunk doesn't answer.
Because deep down? He's already wondering if he made a mistake.
***
Thursday night is drinking night for Dunk and his friends, Phuwin and Pond. They're at their usual bar which is a dimly lit, cozy spot owned by a senior they knew from university- sipping cocktails and trading stories when a familiar voice cuts through the noise.
"Hi, guys."
All three turn.
Standing there, dressed in head-to-toe black; black jeans, black leather jacket, black T-shirt, black boots, is Officer Joong Archen.
Phuwin's eyebrows shoot up. Pond blinks in surprise.
Dunk chokes on his fucking drink.
Damn it.
Black is officer Archen's color. The jacket clings to his broad shoulders, the jeans hug his thighs, and the low lighting casts shadows that make him look unfairly good.
Dunk should be horrified by the coincidence. But this is a small town and everyone ends up at the same bars eventually.
Joong greets the group, but his eyes linger on Dunk, drinking in the sight of him: the white silk shirt, the undone buttons revealing delicate collarbones, the way the fabric drapes over his frame.
Gorgeous.
Phuwin looks at Joong. "So, how's the investigation going, Officer Archen?"
Joong's expression turns professional. "As you know, some of your friends who attended the party were already summoned for questioning."
Phuwin scoffs. "Oh, I do know. Two of the three sent me nasty texts for suspecting them."
Joong smiles sympathetically. "Yeah, that's tough. But it's the process. I'll have to question everyone."
Phuwin leans in, lowering his voice. "Could you leave my Pond out of this? He'd never steal from me."
"Who's your Pond?" Joong asks.
Dunk and Phuwin simultaneously point at the third guy at the table, who lifts his hand sheepishly. Pond offers a weak smile.
Joong shakes his head, apologetic but firm. "No one's an exception." His eyes slide back to Dunk, lingering. "You'll have to come in for questioning too, Dunk."
Dunk rolls his eyes. "Fine. Let's all pretend there's an actual investigation going on."
Pond clears his throat, kicking Dunk under the table. "Dude. Stop."
Joong just grins, unfazed. He also doesn't bother with coyness and gets right to why he's here talking to the group. "Dunk, may I talk to you for a minute?" He adds, softly, "Please."
Dunk glances at his friends. Phuwin lifts an eyebrow, silently prodding: What are you gonna do this time?
He should say no. Again. But ever since the police station, guilt has gnawed at him. Dunk was raised with manners, and the way he'd stormed out? Rude.
"Alright," Dunk mutters, standing.
Joong leads him to a quieter table, leaning against it with his elbows, watching Dunk with that same infuriatingly fond smile.
"Yes? What is it?" Dunk crosses his arms, rolling his eyes for emphasis.
Joong's grin widens. He's fascinated by how prickly Dunk gets around him. Is it just him? Or is Dunk like this with everyone?
"Okay, brutal honesty," Joong says. "I'm attracted to you. But I sense animosity. Why?"
Dunk splutters. "What? No. Why would I dislike you?"
Joong tilts his head. "That's why I asked. Enlighten me."
"You're wrong."
Joong just stares, unblinking, until Dunk cracks.
"Fine!" Dunk snaps. "It's not you. It's your job. I hate cops."
Joong's lips form a small O. "Why?"
"The corruption. The arrogance. Acting like you're heroes when half the time, the scariest people are the ones in uniform." Dunk glares. "Should I go on?"
He expects anger. Defensiveness. Instead?
Joong smirks. "Okay. So what's that got to do with us?" He steps closer, just shy of invading Dunk's space, voice dropping to a low, flirtatious murmur.
Dunk's pulse jumps. Insufferable.
"Wait! I just insulted your entire profession," Dunk says, frowning.
Joong shrugs. "Dunk, I've been on the force for four years. There's no insult I haven't heard. Everybody hates cops. I don't care that you do too." He leans in. "I'd love to debate you, but maybe later, when I'm not trying to ask you out."
Dunk stiffens. "No."
"I didn't even ask yet."
"It's still no, Officer Archen."
"Joong."
Dunk exhales. "Joong."
Joong's eyes soften. "How about you don't see me for my job? Just see me. Just this once."
"But you are a cop."
"And I love that you're stubborn." Joong grins. "I can be the same."
***
Later, Dunk won't remember how it happens.
He protests, but he doesn't leave.
So they end up slipping out of the bar (after Dunk mumbles a hasty goodbye to his friends, not mentioning the cop). They find another club- darker, louder- where they talk over drinks. The bass thrums through the floor as they stand too close, Joong's fingers brushing Dunk's wrist, Dunk letting him.
The alcohol swirls in Dunk's belly, loosening his tongue and his stubbornness.
Joong nudges him. "So, what does your judgmental ass do for a living?"
Dunk giggles- actually giggles- and doesn't even care. "I'm a horticulturist."
Joong blinks. "What's that?"
Dunk smirks. "I make plants feel pretty. Like a therapist, but for ferns."
Joong laughs, clinking their glasses together. "Damn. That's way cooler than my job."
"Obviously," Dunk says, grinning.
A lull in the music gives Dunk an idea. He leans in. "Flat earther or round earther?"
Joong raises an eyebrow. "Does this matter?"
"Whether I stay here talking to you depends on your answer."
Joong feigns deep thought, then deadpans, "Round. Obviously."
Dunk clutches his chest in exaggerated relief. "Thank God." They both crack up.
The debate shifts to noodles vs. pasta, which devolves into playful bickering.
"Noodles are superior," Dunk insists. "Fight me."
Joong gasps. "Blasphemy. Pasta has sauce."
"Noodles have culture."
"They're the same thing!"
"A-ha."
They're laughing so hard Dunk almost spills his drink.
Later, Joong mentions music. "I love Billie Eilish."
Dunk snorts. "Of course you do. So Pretentious."
Joong clutches his heart, mock-scandalized. "You're being mean to me."
"Aww I'm sorry." Dunk playfully ruffles Joong's hair, the touch gentle
When the topic shifts to tea vs. coffee, they both immediately say "Coffee" at the same time, then fist-bump like they've just unlocked a new level of compatibility.
Joong's voice drops, playful but intent. "So... are you single?"
Dunk raises an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
Joong leans closer, their shoulders brushing. "I'm manifesting what I hope- which is 'yes.'"
The music pulses around them, but Dunk barely hears it. They've drifted so close now, lips almost touching when they speak. Joong inhales subtly, savoring Dunk's scent—something crisp and expensive.
Flirting soon turns to dancing. Dancing turns to swaying in each other's arms, Joong's hands firm on Dunk's waist, Dunk's breath hitching at the heat between them.
Then...
They're kissing.
Joong's lips are warm, his grip possessive but gentle. Dunk melts into it, the alcohol and the want blurring together. The way Joong kisses him, confident, teasing- makes Dunk's stomach flip.
"When I forget you're a cop," Dunk slurs against his mouth, "you're not so bad, Joong Archen."
Joong laughs, low and rough. "When you're not being a jerk to cops, you're not bad either."
***
They stumble back to Joong's place.
And God, Dunk was wrong about so many things.
Cops? Maybe not all terrible.
Because Joong?
Joong is amazing....in more ways than one.
***
Dunk wakes to the shrill ringing of his phone, groaning as he blinks against the early morning light. For a moment, he's disoriented. This is not my bed, and It's not my room.
And then the memories of last night rush back in a heated blur.
Joong. The club. The kissing. The... everything else.
His face burns.
He turns his head and finds Joong still asleep beside him, lips slightly parted, dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. He looks soft like this, like an adorable baby; nothing like the man who had Dunk gasping into the sheets hours ago.
Babies don't do that, Dunk thinks, biting back a grin.
The phone rings again. Dunk scrambles out of bed, snagging his boxers from the floor and digging through his jeans for his phone.
Three missed calls from Phuwin.
Shit.
He'd completely forgotten to text his friends last night. Worse yet, how the hell is he supposed to explain disappearing with Officer Archen?
Dunk glances back at Joong who's still peacefully asleep, and tiptoes out of the bedroom, padding through the small apartment to the kitchenette. He takes a deep breath and calls Phuwin back.
Phuwin answers on the second ring. "I've been worried, you idiot. Where the hell are you?"
Guilt twists in Dunk's chest at the edge in his best friend's voice. "I'm fine, sorry. Really sorry, Phuwin."
"Did you get home safe last night? You said you'd text when you got home."
"I meant to, but I forgot."
"So you're at home? At your place?"
Dunk hesitates, praying Phuwin and Pond hadn't already gone to check on him. "...Yes."
A beat of silence. Then Phuwin exhales, sounding relieved. "Okay." Another pause. "So what did you and the good officer talk about at the bar before you left?"
Dunk leans against the counter, rolling his eyes. "Nothing important. He asked me out again. I said no. Nicely this time."
"You're adamant on that, huh?"
"Of course I am."
Phuwin laughs. "All I'm saying is, the dating pool gets thinner every day. Maybe you shouldn't be that picky."
Dunk smirks. "So what would you say if I did agree to go out with Jo- Officer Archen?"
"Well, I'd laugh in your face," Phuwin says cheerfully. "But of course, I'd be happy for you too."
Dunk grins, shaking his head. "I need to get ready for work. Thanks for checking in."
"Talk later. Bye."
"Bye." Dunk hangs up
And yelps as strong arms wrap around him from behind.
"For how long," Joong murmurs, lips brushing Dunk's ear, "do you intend on lying about us?"
Dunk's heart leaps, but he melts into the embrace almost instantly. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to hear you tell your friend you'd never date me."
Dunk bites his lip, laughing awkwardly. "...Oh."
Joong's warmth against his back, the way his hands rest possessively on Dunk's hips- it's intoxicating. Dunk turns in his arms, momentarily dazed by how good Joong looks in the morning light, tousled hair and sleep-softened smile. Their bare chests press together, skin still humming from last night's heat, and Dunk can feel the hunger stirring between them again.
"You told me you liked me last night," Joong says, thumb tracing Dunk's waistband.
"I do."
"I like you too." Joong's gaze is steady, amused. "So. Are we gonna keep lying to your friends?"
"Not much longer," Dunk admits, grinning. "It's just that...I've spent my entire life trashing cops. My friends will never let me live this down. Ever. Let me enjoy the peace I have now for a little longer."
Joong throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Just how much trashing did you do?"
"You have no idea. I think I wrote about it in my journal a few years back."
Joong hums, eyes sparkling. "One has to admire your passion." He leans in, brushing his lips against Dunk's. "You're cute."
The kiss deepens- hot, slow, thorough—Joong's tongue sliding against Dunk's in a way that has him moaning softly, fingers tangling in Joong's hair.
When they finally pull apart, Joong whispers, "May I take you out on a real date this weekend?"
Dunk smiles, getting butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't say no now even if he tried, "Yeah. Let's go on a date."
The triumphant boyish smile that spreads across Joong's face is so damn worth it.
"What do you have in mind for our first date?" Dunk asks
"I'd rather surprise you with this one." Joong presses a kiss to Dunk's forehead. "Breakfast? I make a mean stir-fry vegetable rice."
Dunk blinks. "You're great in bed and you cook? Why the fuck are you a cop?"
Joong grins. "Well, nobody's perfect."
"You're still young," Dunk says, mock-serious. "Go study to become a lawyer. I beg you. Preferably before I tell my friends about us."
Joong laughs, stealing one last kiss before heading to the kitchen. Dunk watches him go, shaking his head.
Never date a cop, his past self had insisted.
But as Joong moves around the kitchen, humming under his breath, Dunk thinks that maybe just this one.