Work Text:
The doctor had the look.
The one doctors get when they realize their patient is either about to do something incredibly stupid or already has.
In Dunk’s case, unfortunately, it was both.
Dunk had been in and out of consciousness for a couple of hours, had thrown up so violently that the blood vessel in his left eye burst (which was fine, it looked worse than it felt... probably), and was currently hooked up to an IV that was beeping at him. He found the beeping personally offensive.
Honestly, though? He’d had worse birthdays.
Well. Not his birthday.
Joong’s.
Which was exactly why he needed to leave.
"You want me to do what?" the doctor asked slowly.
"Khun Doctor," Dunk said, voice coming out raspy and horrible, though he powered through because he was a man on a mission, "please let me leave first. I'm running out of time."
The doctor stared at him.
Dunk stared back.
Somewhere behind them, a nurse very audibly snorted.
“Your potassium level is low,” the doctor said eventually.
“Khun Doctor.” Dunk sat up. The room spun. He did not care. “Please?”
“You burst a blood vessel in your eye from vomiting.”
“I understand that.”
The doctor stared at him. “Mr. Boonprasert, you nearly fainted standing up twenty minutes ago.”
“But can I go see my true love for a moment?”
Silence.
Somewhere behind the doctor, a nurse quietly said, “Oh, he’s serious.”
“Unfortunately,” the doctor muttered back, “I am becoming aware of that.”
Dunk pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. The IV line tugged ominously.
“I just love my MJ so much,” he said, voice cracking around the words. “I need to see him. If I don’t leave this hospital right now—”
He paused for dramatic effect, which was impressive considering his hands were visibly shaking.
“—I might as well die.”
The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not how medicine works, I'm afraid.”
“I’m not asking how medicine works,” Dunk said. “I’m asking you to let me out.”
The doctor looked briefly toward the ceiling like he was asking a higher power for patience.
The nurse, traitorously, said, “Honestly, that’s kind of romantic.”
“Thank you,” Dunk said immediately.
“It is not romantic,” the doctor snapped. “It’s concerning.”
Dunk pointed weakly at him. “That's quitter mentality.”
Somehow, against all medical advice and against reason itself, Dunk signed his own discharge papers with a hand that wouldn’t stop trembling.
The nurse watched him struggle through the signature with visible concern. Then, unexpectedly, she said, “I hope he deserves you.”
Dunk blinked. Warmth hit his chest all at once, sudden and sharp. He smiled softly.
“He does.”
The nurse looked like she wanted to argue about his life choices a little more, but eventually just sighed and waved him toward the exit.
Five minutes later, Figo took one look at him outside the hospital and said, “Holy shit.”
“I know,” Dunk said cheerfully. “I look amazing.”
“You look haunted.”
“Don't be dramatic.”
"You're going to pass out in the jewelry store."
"'M not."
"You are! You're going to pass out and they're going to call an ambulance and you're going to go right back to the hospital."
"And then I'll escape again."
"Dunk."
“Figo.”
Figo stared at him for a long moment. “Just get in the car.”
He surprisingly did not pass out in the jewelry store.
He got the ring. It was perfect. It had been sitting there for three weeks because he had ordered it in advance, because he had planned this, because Joong’s birthday was today and Dunk had been thinking about this moment for months.
He remembered staring at it online for almost an hour before buying it because it looked so aggressively Joong.
Also because Joong had embarrassingly nice hands.
Dunk had spent an unfortunate amount of time thinking about Joong’s hands.
“Are you still smiling at the ring?” Figo asked as Dunk got back into the car.
“No.”
“You literally are.”
Dunk looked out the window immediately. “Drive.”
Then they picked up the cake. It was also perfect. It came in a neat little white Navori box tied at the top. The icing said Happy Birthday MJ in perfect lettering.
By the time they finally reached Joong’s house, though, the adrenaline had started to wear off.
Which was unfortunate timing, honestly.
Everything hurt now.
His stomach rolled unpleasantly as Joong’s house appeared through the window. Sweat prickled at the back of his neck. His entire body felt heavy in a way that made every movement deliberate.
Still worth it.
So fucking worth it.
“Try not to die again,” Figo muttered as Dunk climbed out.
Dunk snorted weakly. “You’re so negative.”
“...Good luck.”
Dunk smiled despite himself. “Thanks.”
He stood outside Joong’s door for a second longer than necessary, trying to steady the awful rolling feeling in his stomach. Then, he rang the bell.
Immediate chaos erupted from inside.
Barking exploded through the house, followed by the rapid scramble of paws against hardwood. Dunk laughed weakly at that despite himself, already able to picture the dogs throwing themselves at the entrance.
Joong’s voice floated closer, warm and distracted.
“Wait, wait, stop trying to attack the door—”
The lock clicked, and the door opened. Joong appeared smiling, halfway through another sentence. He had likely been expecting Dunk and was excited to see his boyfriend on his birthday.
But then, he actually saw him.
The smile vanished instantly.
Dunk watched it happen in real time. Watched Joong’s eyes move over him. Confusion first, then disbelief, then something sharp and frightened underneath it as his gaze moved over Dunk piece by piece.
The pale skin, the shaking hands, the burst blood vessel staining one eye red, the exhaustion.
“...Dunk?”
Dunk lifted the cake box slightly. “Happy birthday na, MJ.”
Joong didn’t even glance at it. “Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
Joong gestured helplessly toward his face.
“Oh, this?” Dunk waved vaguely toward his eye. “Pfft, I’m fine.”
“You are visibly not fine.”
Before Dunk could argue, the dogs shoved between Joong’s legs at full speed and immediately swarmed him with frantic whining.
Dunk laughed breathlessly and crouched automatically to pet them and instantly regretted. Dizziness hit him hard enough to tilt the hallway sideways.
“Whoa, hey—”
Joong caught him before he could properly lose his balance, hands closing quickly around his arms.
One second Dunk was falling, and the next there were strong hands gripping his arms, steady and warm and terrifyingly quick.
Dunk blinked hard once, trying to steady himself, and looked up.
Joong’s face had changed completely now.
Fear.
Pure fear.
“Dunk,” he said quietly, brows pulling together as his grip tightened slightly. “What happened?”
Dunk looked away first.
Mistake.
Joong knew him too well for that. “What happened?” he repeated, softer this time, like he already knew the answer was going to be bad.
“…I was kinda in the hospital.”
Joong went still. The entire house went still with him. “You were what?”
“Okay, well, honestly it sounds worse than—”
“You were in the hospital?!”
Dunk winced a little at the volume. He had never liked when Joong’s voice rose like that.
Joong stared at him like he’d genuinely stopped understanding language for a second. “You told me you just had food poisoning.”
“Well. Technically.”
“Technically?” Joong repeated incredulously. “Dunk, you look terrible.”
“It wasn’t this bad when I texted you.”
“That is not the point!”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Dunk mumbled.
Joong let out one sharp laugh, except it wasn’t really a laugh at all. There was something panicked underneath it. “So your solution was to show up at my place looking half-dead?”
“I don’t look half-dead.”
“Look at your eyes!”
“It’s not as bad as it was before.”
“Oh my god.”
Dunk reached out weakly then, fingers catching briefly against Joong’s sleeve. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“You look mad.”
“I’m scared, idiot.”
Joong closed his eyes briefly and exhaled hard through his nose like he was trying very hard not to completely lose it. Then, he immediately shifted closer again, one hand sliding firmly against Dunk’s back.
“Inside,” he said. “Now.”
“I brought you cake.”
“I don’t care about the cake.”
“You will in, like, ten minutes.”
“Dunk.”
Dunk pouted weakly. “Okay.”
Joong guided him inside. The dogs stayed glued to Dunk’s legs the entire way in, whining softly every few seconds. Dunk nearly tripped over one of them immediately.
Then, from somewhere deeper in the house, a cat peeked around the corner.
Dunk blinked.
Then gasped dramatically. “Is that Eren?”
Joong looked exhausted already. “Yes.”
Eren stared at Dunk.
Then slowly walked closer.
Then jumped directly onto the couch beside him the second Dunk sat down.
Joong stopped mid-step and stared. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Dunk looked delighted. “Oh, he likes me!”
“He hates everyone.”
“Well,” Dunk said smugly, scratching under Eren’s chin immediately, “some of us just have natural charisma.”
“Yeah,” Joong muttered. “Or, you’re both evil, evil menaces. That’s probably it.”
Eren ignored the slander completely and curled himself against Dunk’s thigh like he lived there.
The dogs looked deeply betrayed by this development.
Honestly, the entire scene was ridiculous.
Dunk sitting half-dead on Joong’s couch with a cat in his lap, a couple of jealous dogs pressed against his legs, and Joong hovering nearby looking one inconvenience away from cardiac arrest.
It felt weirdly domestic.
Warm, too.
Joong then disappeared into the kitchen briefly before returning with water, electrolyte packets, and the expression of a man actively trying not to panic.
“Drink.”
Dunk obeyed immediately this time.
Mostly because Joong’s hands were shaking slightly when he passed him the glass.
That scared him more than the hospital had.
Joong stayed standing close while Dunk drank, watching him with an intensity that made his chest ache a little. He waited until Dunk got through about half the glass before speaking again.
“So,” Joong said carefully. “You left the hospital.”
“Mhm.”
“For me?”
Dunk looked down at the cup in his hands.
Joong laughed softly under his breath then, disbelieving more than amused. “You’re so fucking insane.”
“I had to give you your gift.”
“I don’t care about the gift either.”
“I do.”
Joong paused at that.
Dunk was still pale, still visibly shaking a little around the edges.
And somehow he had still dragged himself here carrying birthday cake and presents like any of this had ever been optional to him.
Something in Joong’s expression softened immediately after that.
“Oh, baby.”
Then he leaned forward and wrapped both arms around him before Dunk could say anything else, pulling him in so quickly it almost knocked the breath out of him.
The hug tightened for just a second too long. Not enough to hurt, just enough for Dunk to feel how shaken he still was underneath it.
Joong let out a quiet breath against his hair, like he was only now realizing how close he’d come to completely losing it.
And then he kissed him.
One hand slid up to cup the side of Dunk’s face gently, thumb brushing just beneath his eye like he hated even looking at it. The kiss itself was soft and a little shaky around the edges, like Joong was still trying to calm down from the panic of opening the door and finding Dunk standing there like that.
Dunk melted immediately.
God, Joong still felt so familiar. Warm and steady and achingly comforting in a way that made something deep in his chest loosen all at once.
When Joong finally pulled back, he stayed close enough that Dunk could still feel his breath against his lips.
“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmured.
Dunk smiled faintly. “Hi to you too.”
Joong huffed out something halfway between a laugh and a genuinely emotional exhale before resting his forehead briefly against Dunk’s. “You are never doing this again.”
“Mhm.”
“I mean it.”
“Mhm.”
“You literally escaped a hospital.”
Dunk, still dazed enough from the kiss that his thoughts felt slow around the edges, mumbled, “Technically I signed forms. It wasn’t a jailbreak situation. I'm not that dramatic.”
Joong let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “That is not comforting, Dunk.”
“It should be,” Dunk said seriously. “I handled the situation very professionally.”
That finally got a real laugh out of Joong. Dunk would probably survive another hospital visit just to hear it again.
“You should eat something,” Joong said after a moment.
Dunk perked up. “Oh yeah. I brought cake.”
“We are not discussing cake until you eat something that isn’t filled with fucking adrenaline.”
“That same adrenaline got me here.”
“Shut up.”
Dunk groaned dramatically and took another sip of water. Joong stayed close while he drank.
Close enough that his hand drifted back toward Dunk automatically, fingers wrapping loosely around his wrist. His thumb brushed once against the inside of it, absentminded and gentle, like he was checking for a pulse without realizing he was doing it.
That small gesture made Dunk go quiet.
The house had settled around them now into something soft and warm. The dogs were curled around Dunk’s legs like living weighted blankets. Eren had fully claimed his lap and looked prepared to fight anyone who challenged his position.
Joong’s place always felt lived-in in the nicest way.
Dunk suddenly felt very, very tired.
Joong stared at him for another second before letting out a chuckle and leaning forward to press his forehead briefly against Dunk’s shoulder.
Dunk smiled faintly at that. “Happy birthday, teerak.”
Joong looked at him for a long moment before leaning over and pressing a kiss gently against his temple.
“Don’t ever do that again. I’m serious,” he murmured.
“No promises.” Dunk’s eyes slipped shut briefly at the warmth of it anyway. Then, before the moment could get any softer and more embarrassing, he cleared his throat slightly. "So, cake?"
“Cake,” Joong sighed, because apparently this was his life.
Because he is weak and it's his birthday and the man he loves literally escaped a hospital for him. Priorities.
He got up long enough to grab plates and cut two slices.
Dunk immediately noticed his own piece was significantly smaller. He looked offended. “That is a toddler serving.”
"Remind me who threw up so much that their blood vessels burst."
"That was hours ago."
Joong ignored that. "Fork," Joong says, pointing. Dunk takes the fork.
The cake was good. Really good. Joong took one bite and made a soft, pleased noise before he could stop himself.
Dunk lit up instantly. “Good?” he asked.
He was fully smiling now, bright and pleased in a way that made him look unfairly soft.
Joong tried to glare at him.
Unfortunately, Dunk looked genuinely excited over his review. And Joong was so unbelievably fucked.
There was something devastatingly earnest about Dunk when he cared about things. He never did it halfway.
Not affection. Not birthdays.
And most certainly, not Joong.
It ruined Joong a little bit every single time.
So instead of saying any of that, Joong reached over quietly and brushed a smear of frosting from the corner of Dunk’s mouth with his thumb.
Dunk blinked.
“…It’s really good,” Joong admitted quietly.
Dunk looked absurdly pleased with himself afterward. He took a tiny bite of his own slice. His stomach doesn't immediately revolt, which he counts as a win.
Eren, still curled comfortably across his lap, immediately stretched one paw toward the plate.
"No," Dunk says.
Eren stared back without blinking.
"Absolutely not."
The cat continued staring.
Honestly, glaring.
“He’s doing the thing,” Joong said, watching with open amusement now. “The intimidation thing.”
"It's not going to work."
Eren's paw moves one centimeter closer.
Dunk looks at Joong. "He’s very determined."
“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” Joong leaned back into the couch a little, finally looking relaxed for the first time all evening. “You two have the exact same personality.”
Dunk looked offended. “I’m way more subtle than that.”
Joong laughs, finally, properly, the tension in his shoulders loosening. Dunk watches it happen and feels something warm settle in his chest.
Dunk went quiet without really meaning to.
Joong notices. He always notices. "You okay?" he asks.
“Yeah, I just…” Dunk worried briefly at his bottom lip before glancing down at his hands. “I have something for you.”
Joong blinked once. “You already brought cake.”
"That's not the gift. The cake is cake.”
“Devastating thing to say about a very good cake, by the way.”
Dunk ignored him completely. Which, honestly, made Joong nervous immediately.
Because Dunk’s ears were going pink right in front of Joong’s eyes. The same ears that survived a hospital escape and a burst blood vessel are now turning red over this.
“I got it before I got sick,” Dunk mumbled quickly, already reaching into his pocket. “I ordered it a while ago, okay? So don’t make it weird.”
“That sentence alone made it weird.”
“Shut up.”
He pulls out a small box, along with a small folded paper. It’s a simple jewelry box. He holds it in both hands for a second, staring at it like it might bite him.
Then he finally held the box out toward Joong.
"I hope you like it," he mumbles. "If you don't, that's fine. You can say so. I won't be offended. Well, I'll only be a little offended, but I’ll survive."
Joong took the box carefully. When he opened it, he immediately understood why Dunk had been nervous.
Inside the box was a ring. A beautiful silver Cuban-link style ring. Chunky but so incredibly elegant. The kind of ring that looked expensive even in low light.
Joong stared at it for a second longer than necessary.
Across from him, Dunk had suddenly become deeply interested in Eren. “I just saw it and thought you’d look good wearing it,” he mumbled. “That’s all.”
Joong looked up at him briefly, then slid the ring onto his finger.
Perfect fit.
Dunk finally looked over properly at that.
And, there it was again. That expression. That awful soft look Joong only ever got from him when he wasn’t paying attention.
“…Yeah,” Dunk said quietly.
Joong lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“That works.”
“Works?” Joong repeated, deeply offended. “Be serious. I look hot with it on.”
That got a quiet laugh out of Dunk.
“You always look incredible,” he admitted. “The ring just made it worse.”
"Worse?"
“Now I have to look at your hands too.” Dunk leaned back against the couch cushions, eyes flicking toward the ring again before darting away almost immediately. “It’s distracting.”
Joong’s grin widened immediately.
Dunk narrowed his eyes slightly. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Liar.”
Then, after a smaller pause, Dunk started looking even more like a nervous cat. "So?"
"So what?"
“So do you like it or,” Dunk made a vague motion with one hand. “You know. Is it ugly? You can tell me if it’s ugly.”
"Dunk."
"Joong."
Joong holds up his hand. The silver caught warmly under the lights. "I'm literally never taking this off. I mean it."
Dunk's whole face transforms. Relief. Joy. Something shy and bright all at once. "Really?"
"Really."
Dunk is still holding the folded paper.
"What's that?" Joong asks.
"Oh, nothing." Dunk shoves it toward him. "Just. You know."
Joong unfolds it.
Happy Birthday na, my MJ
"This is so embarrassing," Dunk says to Eren. The cat does not care.
“My MJ,” Joong repeated slowly, grinning now.
"Shut up."
"You called me your MJ."
“It’s your birthday,” Dunk mumbled defensively. “I had to write something.”
"You could've just written 'happy birthday.'"
"That's boring."
Joong looked back down at the note again, still smiling helplessly to himself. "So I'm your MJ."
Dunk grabbed a pillow and threw it directly at his face. “Haven’t we established that already?”
Joong caught it easily, still insufferably pleased with himself. “Yeah,” he said. “But yours. I'm yours.”
That shut Dunk up for approximately two whole seconds.
"I'm keeping the note," Joong says.
"It's literally just a piece of paper."
"It's my piece of paper."
The stupid fondness in his voice made Dunk feel briefly like he might dissolve into the couch.
Joong tucked the note safely into his pocket before holding his hand up again, admiring the ring shamelessly under the light.
"Okay, your turn," he says. "Say something nice to me now."
"No."
"Say 'my MJ, you look so handsome today.'"
"Die."
"That's not nice."
Dunk rolled his eyes dramatically before muttering, “Happy birthday.”
Then, after the tiniest pause:
“…my MJ.”
Joong blinked once like that had caught him slightly off guard. Then, he reached over automatically and pushed his fingers through Dunk’s hair, messy and affectionate.
Dunk made a weakly offended sound and swatted his hand away, but he was smiling when he did it. Small and tired and fond around the edges. "Yeah, yeah."
Joong laughed softly under his breath. The sound seemed to ripple through the entire house somehow. One of the dogs immediately lifted its head and started wagging again just because Joong was happy. Eren looked deeply irritated by the renewed movement but stayed stubbornly curled in Dunk’s lap anyway.
For a little while, neither of them said anything.
Joong kept absently turning the ring around his finger every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe it was there.
And every single time he looked down at it, Dunk noticed.
Every single time.
It was embarrassingly obvious too. The tiny smile he kept trying to hide. The way his eyes followed Joong’s hands without meaning to. Like seeing the ring on him had settled something warm and satisfied deep in his chest.
Joong noticed that too, of course.
“You look really happy right now,” he said quietly.
Dunk opened his mouth automatically with something sarcastic already halfway there. But he stopped himself, and looked once again at the ring on his hand.
“I am.”
Something in Joong’s face softened so completely it almost hurt to look at.
He leaned over after that and kissed Dunk slowly, one hand sliding gently behind his neck like he couldn’t help himself.
Dunk kissed him back immediately.
And for a while after that, neither of them said anything at all.
Later, when Dunk was half asleep against his shoulder, Joong looked down at him for a long moment.
The flushed cheeks from the fever had faded a little by then. The shaking had finally stopped somewhere during the second slice of cake. But the burst blood vessel was still bright against one eye, and every now and then Dunk still shifted carefully like his body hurt in places he was trying not to mention.
He had escaped a hospital looking like this.
For him.
Joong still didn’t fully know what to do with that.
“You’re such an idiot,” he said quietly, brushing his fingers gently through Dunk’s hair.
Dunk made a sleepy noise against his shoulder. “Mmph.”
“A deeply concerning, romantic idiot.”
A pause.
Then, muffled against Joong’s shirt: “Love you too.”
Joong laughed softly under his breath and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
The ring caught the warm light from the window when he did.
He was definitely never taking it off.