Chapter Text
Joong Archen's world was a cocoon of comfort, woven from the silken threads of his family's wealth and the vibrant pulse of Bangkok. Each morning, sunlight filtered through the floor to-ceiling windows of his high-rise condo, glinting off the skyline and the Chao Phraya River below. Joong would rise early; not for classes, but for his daily workout routine, something he'd gotten into the habit of doing.
His days were a mix of leisure and physical activity. While he struggled with academics, barely scraping through his business degree, Joong spent most of his time in his private gym, filming himself performing calisthenics routines and lean bodybuilding workouts. His Instagram and YouTube channels had gained a modest following, though he never took it seriously; it was just something he enjoyed doing.
"Yo, Joong! That new routine was sick!" Mark called out from the couch, where he and a few other friends were lounging, scrolling through their phones. "The girls are going crazy over your latest post."
Joong grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead as he set up his camera for another take. "Yeah? How many likes?"
"Like, 20K already. And the comments are wild," Mark laughed. "Everyone's asking when you'll do that shirtless workout again."
Joong rolled his eyes, adjusting his camera angle. "It's just for fun, man. I'm not trying to be some fitness influencer or whatever."
"Whatever you say, bro," Mark said, already distracted by his own phone. "Just keep posting those videos. The party scene is getting boring anyway."
Far removed from the fleeting distractions of the party scene and casual friendships, Mr. Preecha and Mrs. Nongyao Archen, Joong's parents, found themselves constantly watching, a quiet worry growing with each passing day. His father, a self-made businessman who owned one of Bangkok's largest real estate companies, Rattanakosin Development Group, tried to nudge Joong toward responsibility; offering him a role at the family company, hinting at the importance of hard work.
"You can't drift forever, Joong," his father would say over breakfast, newspaper folded neatly beside his plate. "One day, you'll have to stand on your own."
Joong would just flash a lazy grin. "There's plenty of time for that, Dad."
His mother, ever doting, shielded him from the harshest criticisms, but even she couldn't hide her disappointment when Joong skipped another business meeting or forgot a family dinner.
"You know he means well," she would murmur, squeezing Joong's hand after another tense meal. "But you can't keep letting life pass you by, darling."
On the day of his graduation, Joong felt a strange mix of relief and dread. The ceremony itself was a blur of photos snapped and congratulations exchanged. That evening; graduation night; he found himself at Café Kitsuné in EmQuartier, surrounded by friends who buzzed with excitement about new jobs, travel plans, and dreams. Joong laughed along, but inside, he felt adrift, unsure where he fit in a world that suddenly seemed to expect something of him. The party was hosted by the university's business department, with alumni and industry professionals invited to network with the graduates. Joong's father, being a major donor, had secured VIP access for his son and friends. It was there, amid the chic, modern décor of Café Kitsuné and the city's bustling energy, that he first noticed Dunk Natachai.
Dunk stood apart from the crowd, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, taking in everything. Joong's first impression was that Dunk looked almost too young to be here; lean frame, skin so clear and unlined he couldn't possibly be more than twenty-one. But there was a steadiness in his gaze that made Joong second-guess his own assumptions. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms, and tailored black pants that caught Joong's eye. The simplicity of his outfit contrasted with the flashy attire of Joong's friends, making him stand out even more. He was new to Bangkok, Joong learned, having just moved from Pattaya to take up a position as a dietician at a prestigious wellness center. The center had been invited to the event as part of the university's initiative to promote health and wellness among its graduates.
He couldn't help but notice how Dunk's eyes crinkled when he smiled, or how his voice carried a quiet confidence that made Joong want to listen. There was something about Dunk's composed demeanor that made Joong want to ruffle his feathers, to see him lose that perfect control.
"So, are you one of the professionals here tonight?" Dunk asked, curiosity in his eyes.
Joong shook his head, grinning. "Nope, not a professional. I'm just here because I have a VIP pass. Honestly, I just spend my dad's money and work out a lot. I make some fitness videos too, but it's just for fun."
Dunk's lips quirked in a small smile. "Hey, if it makes you happy, that's what matters. Not everyone needs to have it all figured out."
"So you're not here to network or hand out business cards?" Dunk asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Only if someone's recruiting for a push-up contest. Or a tour of the best gyms in Bangkok,"
Joong replied, grinning.
"I'll keep that in mind. I'm more of a yoga mat than a dumbbell guy, though," Dunk laughed. "That's okay. I can be flexible. Well, not literally. I'm terrible at yoga. I can fake zen. I just can't touch my toes," Joong joked, shaking his head.
Joong leaned in, genuinely curious. "So what brought you to Bangkok from Pattaya?"
Dunk smiled, taking a sip of his drink, his movements graceful and controlled. "New opportunities. I've been working at wellness centers in Pattaya for the past few years, but it's time for a change. I've just joined Lanna Wellness here in Bangkok."
"Lanna?" Joong's eyes lit up. "That's the one near Rattanakosin Plaza, right? My father's company built that complex."
Dunk set down his cup, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "So, how old are you, Joong?" "Twenty-three," Joong said, suddenly feeling very young. "Just graduated." "Twenty-seven," Dunk replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Joong straightened his shoulders, putting on his best "wise elder" face. "You might be older, but you're new to the city. That makes me the senior here. Want a proper Bangkok tour?"
Dunk snorted, clearly amused. "Should I start calling you 'P' Joong now?" Dunk couldn't help but notice the way Joong's shirt hugged his shoulders and arms; clearly the result of hours in the gym. He looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad, but there was an easy warmth in his grin that made him even more striking.
Joong winked. "Only if you want the full local experience."
Joong found himself drawn to Dunk; not so much to his ambition, but to the way he smiled easily and spoke with a calm confidence. For the first time in a long while, Joong was simply curious about someone new, wanting to know more for reasons he couldn't quite name.
The next day, Joong took Dunk on a whirlwind tour of Bangkok's must-see sights. They started at the Grand Palace, where Joong pointed out the Emerald Buddha and shared stories he'd picked up from his father's business associates. "Legend says if you walk around the temple clockwise three times, you'll have good luck for a year," Joong grinned, nudging Dunk to join him. Dunk laughed, playing along, and snapped a photo of Joong making a silly face in front of the ornate murals.
"You know, I've been here a hundred times, but it's more fun with someone who actually listens to my stories," Joong admitted as they walked.
"I'm just making sure you're not making them up. I'm just fact-checking. You look like the type to embellish," Dunk teased.
"You caught me. Half of what I know is from Wikipedia," Joong confessed. "At least you're honest. That's rare in a tour guide," Dunk observed, nudging him.
Next, they wandered over to Wat Pho to see the Reclining Buddha. Joong challenged Dunk to count all the mother-of-pearl panels on the statue's feet; "Loser buys iced coffee!"; and they both lost track, dissolving into laughter. At the floating markets, Joong expertly haggled for moo ping (grilled pork skewers) and khanom bueang (crispy Thai pancakes with sweet filling), making sure to get extra for Dunk to try.
"You haven't really done Bangkok until you've had moo ping from a boat vendor. As your Bangkok elder, it's my duty to introduce you to the essentials. Moo ping is a rite of passage." Joong declared, handing Dunk a skewer.
When Joong handed him a skewer, Dunk caught a glimpse of defined forearms and a flash of abs as Joong reached for his wallet. He looked away quickly, hoping Joong hadn't noticed.
"You're enjoying this way too much, Lung." Dunk grinned, savoring the smoky, savory flavor, and they shared the pancakes as they wandered through the bustling market. "You really know how to work a crowd," Dunk said, shaking his head in amusement. "It's a gift. Or maybe it's just my winning smile," Joong replied, flashing a grin. "I think it's the smile. The vendor gave you an extra skewer," Dunk pointed out, smirking. "See? Stick with me and you'll never go hungry," Joong said, triumphant.
As they walked side by side, Dunk found his gaze drifting; Joong's athletic build was hard to ignore, every movement relaxed but powerful. It was distracting, in a way Dunk hadn't expected.
As the sun set, they found themselves weaving through the vibrant streets of Chinatown, the air thick with the scent of spices and sizzling street food. Joong led Dunk to La Cabra, a Danish coffee shop tucked among lantern-lit alleys and the warm, golden glow spilling from shopfronts and street stalls. They sank into comfy chairs, sipping cold brews and sharing their favorite moments from the day.
At La Cabra, Joong and Dunk ordered two pour-over coffees; bright, floral, and served in minimalist stoneware cups; and split a cardamom bun, the pastry still warm from the oven. Joong made a show of swirling his coffee and guessing the tasting notes, making Dunk laugh. They lingered over their drinks, savoring the quiet buzz of the café and the soft clatter of cups behind the counter. Even slouched in a café chair, Joong's posture was all confidence; broad shoulders, lean frame, the kind of body that made people look twice. Dunk tried to focus on the conversation, but it wasn't easy.
"So, senior, what's the secret to surviving in Bangkok?" Dunk asked, leaning forward with interest.
Joong leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Rule number one: always carry cash. Rule number two: never trust the weather app. Rule number three: if you get lost, just follow the smell of grilled pork. Years of wisdom, right here."
Dunk grinned. "I'll be sure to write that down, P' Joong."
Joong puffed up, trying to sound authoritative. "Let me help. It's what us older, more experienced city folk do."
Dunk gave him a look. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?" Joong grinned. "Nope. It's my new thing."
As the conversation drifted, Dunk's smile faded for a moment. "I should probably start looking for a place tomorrow. My hotel bill is starting to scare me."
Joong leaned back, tapping his cup thoughtfully. "You know, you picked the right friend for this city. My dad's company has half the keys in Bangkok. Let me help you out; I promise I won't let you end up in some shoebox."
Dunk looked at him, a little surprised, then softened. "You really didn't have to offer, you know. But… thanks. It's rare to meet someone in this city who's just genuinely kind."
He tried to sound casual, but underneath, Joong felt a quiet urgency. He wanted Dunk to say yes; not just because he could help, but because he wasn't ready for this day to end, or for Dunk to drift out of his orbit just yet.
It was a Saturday well spent; by the time they left La Cabra, both were laughing and relaxed, already making plans to meet again the next day to check out some condos.
The following day, Joong took Dunk to several luxury condos, using his father's connections to get them private viewings. They started with a modern high-rise near the wellness center.
"This is nice," Dunk said, looking around the spacious living room. "But it's probably way out of my budget."
Joong waved his hand dismissively, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. "Don't worry about the price. My dad loves a good real estate challenge. Besides, helping you out makes me look good for once."
Dunk raised an eyebrow, maintaining his composed stance. "That's very generous of you, but I prefer to stand on my own feet."
"Come on," Joong said, moving closer, his presence naturally commanding the space. "Let me help. It's the least I can do for someone as... interesting as you."
Dunk stepped back slightly, a good-natured smile on his face. "Joong, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not looking for a sugar daddy. I've worked hard to get where I am."
"I'm not trying to be your sugar daddy," Joong said, though the thought had crossed his mind. "I just want to help."
They visited three more apartments before finding one that met Dunk's requirements and budget. It was smaller than the first one but had a beautiful view of the city.
"This is perfect," Dunk said, standing on the balcony, his slender frame silhouetted against the city lights.
Joong leaned against the railing, watching Dunk's profile. "You're really determined to do everything on your own, aren't you?" He still couldn't get over how young Dunk looked in the city lights; like someone who should be worrying about exams, not careers. But then Dunk would say something quietly confident, and Joong would remember he was the younger one here.
Dunk turned to face him. "I've learned that the hard way. When you're older, you'll understand."
"I'm not that much younger than you," Joong protested, his voice taking on a deeper tone.
"Four years is a lifetime when you're starting your career," Dunk replied. "I've been working since I was your age. I've made mistakes, learned from them. You're still figuring things out."
Joong moved closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over Dunk. "Maybe you could help me figure things out?"
Dunk laughed, shaking his head, but Joong noticed a slight flush on his cheeks. "Joong, you're a nice guy, but you're not my type. I usually go for older guys; not necessarily someone established, but someone with real ambition."
"Ouch," Joong said, but he was smiling. "Rejected before I even got to make my move."
Dunk shook his head, his tone gentle. "Not a rejection, Joong. It's just... right now, we're in different places, aren't we? You're figuring out your path forward, what you want and who you're becoming. I've had some of those experiences, faced those questions, and now I'm navigating a different kind of clarity and new challenges. Honestly, I hope we can keep hanging out. I really enjoy being with you." Even as he articulated their different paths, Dunk knew it wouldn't be easy to simply put Joong out of his mind. Joong was ridiculously good looking, of course, but it was the surprising mix of his captivating charm and genuine vulnerability that truly made him unforgettable.
As they stood on the balcony of Dunk's new apartment, the city lights twinkling below, Joong felt something shift inside him. For the first time, he wanted to be more than just a rich kid playing at life. He wanted to be someone who could help others, someone who could make a difference; someone worthy of Dunk's friendship.
"Thanks for being honest with me," Joong said quietly.
Dunk smiled. "That's what friends are for. Now, let's get some dinner. I'm starving."
As they settled into Dunk's new, fully furnished flat, Dunk insisted on making dinner; a colorful stir-fry with brown rice and a side of fresh papaya salad. The kitchen filled with the scent of garlic and lime, and Joong watched, impressed, as Dunk plated everything with care.
Joong took a bite and grinned. "You know, you're way better than our private chef at home. When she tries to make something healthy, it never tastes this good; my parents like everything fried."
Dunk raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. "Private chef?"
Joong shrugged, a little sheepish but mostly amused. "Yeah, but don't worry, I won't ask you to cook for me every day." Joong ducked his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, maybe I can't promise that. But; would it be too much if I asked for your cooking whenever I drop by?" His eyes flicked up, hopeful and a little bashful, the picture of boyish charm.
Dunk laughed, shaking his head. "I think I just realized how fancy my new friend is."
"Seriously, you could open a restaurant. I'd be your first customer," Joong said, meaning it. "You'd eat here every day?" Dunk asked, raising an eyebrow.
"If you're cooking, yeah. But only if you promise not to make me do the dishes," Joong replied, feigning innocence.
"No promises. Friendship has its limits," Dunk shot back, laughing.
He set down his chopsticks, his expression turning sincere. "Honestly, I'd be happy to. Having you here makes this place feel a little less overwhelming. Feels good to have a friend to cook for."
By the end of the week, a tentative friendship had formed. Joong slid behind the wheel of his BMW X5, the city's lights reflecting off the hood as he pulled into traffic. For once, the quiet inside the car felt comforting. He replayed Dunk's words, a small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe friendship was enough for now. Maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something he hadn't dared to hope for.