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3 weeks.
It had been 3 weeks since that dreadful night.
He swore he tried to keep his feelings under control. He tried to keep his emotions to himself.He had vowed to not catch feelings ever since the moment he decided to take this job. It paid well, really well and his charming and light personality made it easier for him to interact with all the different kinds of people that came to the host club. But he had overestimated himself. He ended up falling, deeper than he ever thought he could.
Everytime he closed his eyes, the only thing that flashed behind his eyelids was her skin, littered with bruises and her smile. That damn smile. So beautiful yet so painful.
Joong couldn’t help himself when she went no contact after the incident with the ring. He told himself over and over that their relationship was completely transactional.Host and Client. And she had made it awfully clear too. Every time he crossed that invisible line. The times he smiled at her a bit too fondly. The times he spent trying to find the perfect gift for her just to see those sullen eyes light up.
But he was, alas, in love. And that’s what caused him to find her address and sneak into her house. All he wanted was a glimpse of her. But nothing could prepare him for the sight that he stumbled upon.
Trembling hands gripping tightly, a revolver.
What happened next was still vivid in his mind .Joong remembers himself panicking, his body going rigid as he banged on the glass windows until finally managing to break through them. He remembers moving like a madman, snatching the revolver from her hands and throwing it as far away as he can. He can still feel,if he thinks hard enough, her shaking form in his arms and her desperate screams at him to leave.
That night, under the harsh blue streetlights, Joong collapsed on the ground of the very same street he kissed her for the last time. With nothing but the pale, lonely moon to keep him company, he sobbed and sobbed until all he could feel was the numb ache in his heart.
Joong didn’t go back to work for a while. Every corner of the damn club reminded him of her. He simply couldn’t get himself to go back and act like everything was fine. The state he was in right now, was quite pathetic to be honest. Lazing around in bed all day. Only ever getting up to eat when he was unable to ignore the noises his stomach made and also,to feed his dog. He was sure this was the lowest he’s ever been in life and he had brought it upon himself. He got invested, let himself fall, he was too fragile. Now here he was, struggling to pick himself back up again.
He stared at the missed calls from his boss, the host club owner. Joong had been ignoring their texts asking about his whereabouts for a while now. He’d been letting this go on for too long. He needs to move on, get back on his feet. He had himself and his dog to feed and the money wasn’t going to make itself. He texted his boss a quick apology for going MIA and started getting dressed for his shift.
Joong sat by the bar, zoning out as his fingers toyed with the silver chains around his neck. It was a slower day at the club, considering it was wednesday night and only the regulars were present. He felt an all too familiar emptiness settle inside him once again. This place, this club, the flashing red lights and chatter was once his playground. Now, he felt like he wanted nothing to do with it.
“Hey Joong, There’s a new client. Everyone’s booked right now so you're gonna have to cover.”
His coworker and fellow host,Jake,told him as Joong snapped out of the trance he was in. He was puzzled to be honest. He honestly did not know if he had the capacity to be cheerful and serve a complete stranger-someone other than her-again, but he downed his vodka martini that sat unmoved on the counter and adjusted his clothes, making his way over to the private lounge.
Pushing open the door to the lounge though, he didn’t expect this.
All their usual customers were women. The eventual man came by once in a while and Joong had served them once or twice. He did not have a particular preference, after all, this was his job and money was money. The man sitting against the red leather couch though, was nothing short of handsome if Joong said so himself. Tall and lean, dark blue button up hugging his body perfectly. He looked mature, maybe a little bit older than himself. Slick hair brushed back to expose sharp features. Black framed glasses sitting idle on a slim face, siren eyes peering up at him with quiet intensity and calm. He felt the man’s presence the moment he stepped inside, sending a slight chill through him.
“Mr. Natachai?”
“Dunk is fine”
Deep yet piercing, Dunk’s voice cut through the atmosphere like glass. Joong stood still in his place, intrigued even. He felt himself momentarily forget the grief, the longing and every single thought that had plagued him for weeks. With careful steps, he made his way over to the couch, taking a seat beside the man. He felt slow nerves rise inside himself the longer he spent in Dunk’s presence. Why was he feeling like this? This wasn’t the first time he encountered a good looking man in his 24 years of life. Hell, he was surrounded by other attractive men who were hosts just like him all the damn time. Yet, when Dunk turned his body, ever so slightly, to face him, Joong felt as if he was trapped, fingers gripping the leather of the couch unknowingly. He cleared his throat as he stumbled through a quick introduction;
“I’m Joong and I'll be accompanying you tonight. What would you like to do, Sir?”
“Again, Dunk is fine. Let’s drink?”
And that’s what they did. Joong poured him glass after glass until both of them were tipsy. Throughout the whole hour they spent together, Dunk did not say another word. Just sat there, clinked their glasses together and took sip after sip in silence. Joong had at least expected the man to talk. It wasn’t new to him. People came here seeking support as much as they sought out other pleasures. He was used to people breaking down, endless hours spent comforting customers.
But this.
This was new.
Why did the guy just not go to a bar if all he wanted to do was drink?. Joong wondered about the mysterious man all throughout his way home. Was he just that lonely? Did the man just want a drinking buddy or something? Whatever the reason was, Joong's interest was piqued. Deep down, he could also say he was thankful for the man’s appearance. He had made the best kind of distraction, preventing any thoughts of his pathetic heartbreak from crossing his mind. Also for the silence. He appreciated not having to put on a cheerful facade while being in such a state of mind.
When the man left, he did not know as he had passed out from all the drinking last night. What he did find on the glass table in front of him though, was a thick stack of notes.
After that night, Dunk continued his visits. Always asking for Joong, always doing nothing but drinking together. The same room, same red couch, same small talk before plunging into silence.
Overtime, Joong just could not keep his questions to himself anymore. Slowly, he started initiating conversation with Dunk, who seemed not too bothered yet not interested in answering them either. He managed to find out that Dunk was 27, working a high paying yet boring corporate job in some company Joong had forgotten the name of. Dunk always kept his replies confined to yes or no. Joong could barely manage to get a whole sentence out of this man.
It was yet another night, Joong’s phone glowed at 12 AM and they were a good 2 hours into drinking. Dunk looked good today, just like he always did. Dark slacks hugging his long legs in all the right places. The black shirt he wore fit him perfectly, buttons undone just enough for his defined chest to peek through. Joong’s eyes trailed over the man’s lithe fingers wrapped firm around the glass. Taking a tentative gulp from his own glass, he broke the silence for the first time that night.
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes,” Dunk replied, short and precise, like he always did.
“Got a special someone?”
“Nope”
He saw it coming. Yet,he was quite surprised. Dunk was an attractive man. And he was rich. He could effortlessly get anyone he wanted. Was staying single a choice? Or Did his quiet personality just drive people away?
“What about your family?” Was he prying too much? Yes. But Joong was never a fan of long and excruciating silences. He thrived in conversation. With everything that happened, the past month had been nothing but awful and he was grasping at straws for a distraction.Dunk was providing just that and he was not about to let it slip away.
“I prefer being alone so I don’t live with them.”
“Why come here if you prefer being alone?”
“I prefer being alone, not lonely.”
Joong shifted a bit at that. So his thought process was right. He watched Dunk closely, the slow bob of his throat as he took another sip. He was getting somewhere with this. And he wanted to know more. So he decided to do what he was best at.
“So you do get lonely,” he mused, tapping his glass against the counter. The ice inside clinked softly.
Dunk exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh, but close. “That’s not what I said.”
“You didn’t have to.”Joong smiled, slow and deliberate.
No reaction. Just the steady lift of the glass, another sip, another moment of silence.
“You always this quiet?”
Nothing.
“You must be hell at parties.”
Still nothing.
Joong did not mind the challenge. He was good at using his words and he knew it. This was the most Dunk had spoken in all the time they’ve spent together and he would not let this chance go to waste.
“Most people who seek my company end up spilling something. You’re paying good money to be here, so why waste time just drinking? Whatever you say won’t go beyond these four walls so feel free to loosen up with me.”
“Why do you want me to talk so badly?” Dunk asked, deep voice low and measured.
Joong blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. Then, he shrugged, swishing his drink lightly.
“Maybe I like the sound of your voice.”
That got him something. A slow turn of the head. The faintest raise of an eyebrow. Sharp eyes squinting slightly.
A thrill shot through Joong’s chest. He was enjoying this a bit too much. “Or maybe I’m just nosy. You are an interesting one, after all.”
Dunk studied him for a long moment, unreadable as ever. Then, without a word, he reached for the bottle and poured another drink, for the both of them.
Maybe silence wasn’t always a rejection.
Maybe, sometimes, it was an invitation.
Joong watched Dunk lift the glass up to his lips and take a hurried gulp.Plush,pink lips that he could not take his eyes off of. He had always noticed the undercurrent of tension between them. In the way he sometimes caught Dunk peeking at the exposed skin beneath his blazer or how the gazes they exchanged held on longer and longer each time. It was obvious, yet left unacknowledged. He noticed a drop of the amber liquid escape the man’s lips and slide down his chin, hanging at his sharp jaw.
A slow reach of hands. Joong brushed the drop of liquid away with his thumb. His eyes locked with Dunk’s own, sparks lighting the longer they stared at each other. His palm still rested at its place on Dunk’s jaw, slowly brushing against his cold cheeks.
“You’re staring.” Joong said, breathing uneven.
Dunk didn’t deny it. Didn’t even blink.
It was a pull. Slow and inevitable. The moment stretching between them like the last breath before a storm.
Joong leaned in, leaving behind all his inhibitions as his lips crashed into Dunk’s. A gasp left Dunk as Joong slotted his fingers in between the soft locks of Dunk’s hair, pulling him closer. Firm hands wrapped around his torso, Joong feeling hands travel underneath his blazer, cold fingers a stark contrast against his warm skin.
Their lips moved against each other in a hurried mess, teeth and tongue clashing as the moment consumed their very being.
There was no room for second thoughts, no space for hesitation.
Joong pushed Dunk back into the leather of the couch, climbing onto his lap. Dunk’s hands came to grip at his hips, tight and unmoving as he bit into Joong’s lower lip. Pulling a sharp hiss out of him, Dunk’s tongue invaded his mouth, rubbing against his own, pulling moan after moan out of him.
Fuck.
Joong had been kissed before. Plenty of times. He knew how to play the game, knew how to tease, knew how to take control.
But this?
This was different.
This was hungry. This was possessive.
And he—the one who always led, always dictated the pace—was the one being taken apart.
Dunk’s fingers gripping his hips moved just a bit, pinching the skin there with just enough pressure to make him gasp. And the bastard used it, swallowed the sound like he owned it, like it belonged to him now.
Joong shivered. His hands, which had been tugging at Dunk’s hair, slid down to grip at the man’s shirt, pulling him impossibly close.
He wanted to tease, wanted to quip something, maybe a breathless 'not so quiet now, are you?', but he couldn’t. Not when his mouth was too busy being devoured. This was not at all what he expected from Dunk. This silent, unassuming, single man had him losing his mind over a damn kiss.
Heat coiled low in Joong’s stomach. His skin buzzed, oversensitive, every nerve screaming for more.
It was dizzying. It was dangerous.
It was exactly what Joong needed right now.
He exhaled, letting himself sink into the heat, the weight of the Dunk’s hands still pressing down on his skin. The ache in his heart felt distant now, blurred at the edges like an old photograph left out in the sun. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. Something simple. Something physical. No late-night regrets, no aching nostalgia—just heat and hunger, something real enough to feel but not deep enough to hurt. Joong told himself he’d be careful this time, that he wouldn’t let his heart slip past the boundaries he set. Whatever this was, whatever it became, it would stay in the space between tangled sheets and stolen moments. Nothing more. Nothing dangerous. Nothing that could break him again.