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It has been an exhaustingly beautiful day that Dunk is going to remember for the rest of his life. He spent the whole of his birthday with people who care for him so much that they have made him shed a few tears multiple times throughout the course of the day.
The overwhelming love and well wishes his people have sent his way, the mini pile of gifts that Joong has promised to take care of so all of them reach Bangkok with them safely, and all the fun he has had. He is always so excited about his birthday, starts anticipating it a whole month prior, and when the day arrives he reels in the love he gets.
He has spent the whole day being the centre of attention, the one towards whom everyone’s neck turns. And he is grateful. Immensely. He hugs everyone in the room and sends promises of catching up soon to the people who aren’t here with him, in this foreign land, but still think of him from back home.
But now, he is tired. He barely slept last night because of the excitement, and now he just wants to cuddle up to his boyfriend and be held between his big, strong arms.
Speaking of, Joong has played such a good host to everyone today. He took all the responsibility for today's celebrations and made sure everyone was satisfied. He is currently talking to a waiter, perhaps discussing the food that they are to put in containers.
Dunk leans his head back against the wall and sighs.
One by one, everyone starts leaving the restaurant. A few of them stop by to say bye to him. He manages to smile at them, but his brain is completely fixed at one place.
He always notices Joong. There is never a tiny detail that he misses. He has been noticing that his boyfriend’s gym routine has changed. He has been bulking, actively. Dunk has found him attractive at every point of his life,every phase of his body and phase. Seeing his biceps bulging out, his chest unable to contain within his t-shirt makes Dunk’s head spin just a little wilder.
Joong used to carry him like he weighed nothing, like Dunk was his entire world. Back then, Dunk used to be different, and enjoyed the pampering. Then, two things happened: Dunk also bulked up, and Joong got seriously injured. It was a bad combination, and Dunk had stopped Joong from carrying him too much. And Joong, ever obedient, had agreed without asking for a reason. He perhaps assumed Dunk didn’t like being twirled around anymore.
It couldn’t be far from the truth though. Dunk loves being in Joong’s arms, he loves being carried and paraded around. He only has been worried, afraid it will affect Joong’s healing.
Right now, though, he forgets it. With Joong’s healing process going well and him getting back to building muscles, he has started lifting Dunk up from time to time. But not like before. It is picking him up for a few seconds, and if Dunk is lucky, a twirl or two. Not the carrying Dunk on his back and walking along the streets when Dunk’s exercise routine used to be more cardio than anything else. He kind of wants that now. If it doesn’t adversely affect Joong. Please.
He feels a hand on his head a moment later, pulling him out of his stupor. It is JingJing. She is standing next to him and smiling that smile beautiful women do when they see something cute. Like a cat, or a man they never stop seeing as a little boy. He likes that look, she is a great older sister.
“Nong Dunk,” she singsongs, “did you have fun today?”
He laughs. “Yes, Phi. I had so much fun. Thank you for making my day special.”
He coos at him, like she doesn’t see him a day older than six. “You are a special boy, Nong. Phi will always be here to share happiness with you, yeah? Happy birthday, once again.”
It makes Dunk giggle. He leans into her touch as he ruffles his hair. “Thank you very much, Beautiful Phi.”
“Aye, now don’t get too cheeky. Just a moment ago you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Give Phi the gossip, Nong. Is the bright yellow wallet really the main gift of the year?”
The way she whispers it to him like it is some sealed, confidential information tickles Dunk hilariously. “You are doubting him after the long speech he gave about wealth and happiness and the yellow of love?”
JingJing sighs dramatically, likely reminiscing Joong’s almost three-minute long speech. “Nong, I am going to be honest with you, your man used a lot of internal references and aristocratic metaphors. Honestly, P’Jan and I were just waiting for him to drop to one knee and pop out a ring at the rate he was going.”
She is obviously joking, but it is like a punch to Dunk’s stomach. Not exactly in a bad way. But because of the fact that Joong loves him so deeply and purely that anytime he speaks of Dunk, people claim he might as well propose. Heat rushes through Dunk’s cheeks, the thought of marriage is … dreamy. He has always wanted a family of his own, and now that he has a faux family, with a mascot child, he is practically seeing how Joong could be as a dad. And it is honestly, so endearing.
JingJing clears her throat and pulls him back from his thoughts again. When he looks at her this time, there is a twinkle in her eyes. She can see. Dunk isn’t even that close to her, but she can see what Joong does to him. Perhaps it is true, you can never hide love.
“Well, that’s for the future, I suppose. But Nong Dunk, the way your eyes are moving, you are not done having your birthday cake, huh?”
She winks, and Dunk gasps loudly, scandalised at her verbalising such a thought. He feels like a teenager getting caught watching an adult-rated movie by his mother. He whines, “Phi.”
She doesn’t mind his distress as she laughs loudly and says, “Don’t be shy, Nong. Have a great rest of the night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And then she runs off, calling for Janhae.
He leans back, more alert and hot now. The thought of Joong … he cannot, for the moment, think of him without thinking astray, impure. He wants Joong to hurry up and come to him so he can claim his right. But Joong is busy bidding the guests goodbye like a … like a husband.
Dunk groans and thuds his head against the wall. JingJing has completely changed the course of his thoughts. He is doomed, he knows. Completely ruined. If anyone were to come for him, they’ll find either hollow because everything he is is with Joong, or completely painted in Joong’s colours.
Joong eventually comes to him, when all of their friends are gone and the bill has been settled. He places Dunk’s card (which he had taken only after Dunk pouted at him with misty eyes when Joong had insisted on covering the bill) in the new yellow wallet, and puts it in Dunk’s handbag.
“Hey, birthday prince. How are you feeling?”
Dunk stretches his arms out, exhausted but so in love. Joong scrunches his nose before squatting between Dunk’s legs to pull him into his arms. “Aww, my baby. Are you tired?”
Dunk nods against his shoulders, melting into the hug. He breathes in Joong’s scent, home even territorial boundaries away. He encloses his arms around his man and settles. He feels Joong kisses the side of his head.
Five years of knowing each other and almost two years of dating, and Dunk still blushes at these little acts of love. “Are you too tired, or do you think you can stretch a little more?”
Dunk squints his eyes. “Hmm?”
Joong chuckles and starts stroking Dunk’s hair gently. “Khun Natachai, do you want to spend the last hour of your birthday before the midnight stroke with this man?”
Flowers drip down onto the floor of Dunk’s heart. He feels like he is in the middle of a sunflower meadow, running along with the chirping birds and the cool wind of a summer breeze at almost dusk.
He nudges Joong’s clavicle with his nose and says, a smile intact on his face and in his tone, “I have been waiting all day for you to have me alone. Of course I want to spend the rest of the night with you, my MJ.”
Joong pulls back from the hug, but keeps Dunk in his arms. His smile is vibrant, a morning sun. The first sunrise of Dunk as a twenty-six year old. He wants to touch in ways he cannot fathom. He wants to slip into Joong’s skin and sleep in his ribcage so his heartbeat is his lullaby.
“I promise I won’t tire you a lot, okay? It is a relaxing date. Can you stand up?”
No, carry me, please, Dunk wants to say. He wants to hover his arms between them and asks Joong to “come on, loverboy, show me your strength.” But he doesn’t. He takes a deep breath and nods. Joong helps him stand up, one arm around his waist.
They are eventually in the backseats of a taxi, with Joong trying to relay relevant information to the driver with as much success as he can. Joong tries to give him space, perhaps sensing that Dunk is drunk and hot. But Dunk wants to have none of that, he shuffles to the middle seat and puts a leg over Joong’s lap, trapping him, and buries his face in Joong’s chest—so pillowy and comfortable.
Joong holds him back, an arm around his body and the other around his thigh, hiking it up so it is more comfortable for Dunk. The breeze from the open windows caress Dunk’s skin as he settles on his man’s body.
Joong kisses the top of his head and murmurs. Dunk almost misses it. But the proximity and the way he is so alert to Joong’s needs and behaviors bring the words to him clear. “Do you mind if I blindfold you now?”
Dunk doesn’t move, but he shifts head to look up at him, squinting his eyes and smirking. “Khun Archen, how scandalous of you to say such a thing in public.”
Joong is surprised for a moment, his widening just a little, before he bursts out into a laugh. He lightly hits Dunk’s back in reprimand. “What a bad boy, always thinking of naughty things.” He kisses Dunk’s nose like this endears him. Dunk seeing Joong’s nervousness and making light of it, Dunk knows it means a lot to Joong. And he will play a clown forever if that makes Joong this happy.
Dunk traces a line on Joong’s torso with his hand that isn’t on Joong’s shoulder. His forefinger stops at his jawline, and he very lowly whispers directly into Joong’s ears, “You always have the option of punishing me until I am your good boy again.”
He sees the curtains fall. The transformation of Joong Archen Aydin from a sweet, loving boyfriend who is always at Dunk’s beck and call, a certified obedient puppy, to the master of games—the predator sitting on a thin line, ready to maul and take his fill, leaving his prey ruined and shredded.
And Dunk wants it. He wants to be ripped apart and sewn back together to form this newer, older version that he has become overnight. He wants Joong to mould the twenty-six year old Dunk who’ll face his fans for the first time tomorrow.
Joong squeezes Dunk’s body, making him feel the tremors of impatience in his own body. It is a power trip, the effect he has on Joong. If he has grown any ego, it is because of this man. “Careful there, baby. We don’t want to get in trouble for fucking in a taxi, in a foreign country at that.”
Dunk trembles. It is a promise, as clear as a sunny sky. Joong soothes him without judgement, rubbing his back gently. He understands Dunk, and maybe Dunk will get what he wants later. Right now, it is ten-thirty p.m. and Joong has requested for Dunk’s company. “Hmm. Why do you want to blindfold me now?”
Joong’s exhale sounds like a laugh, but he answers genuinely. “It is a surprise.”
It flutters Dunk’s heart. Joong has already done so much for him today, so the thought of him having something else in store—something just for the two of them—fills him with so much love. He loves this man to pieces. “Okay, MJ. Whatever you want.”
It is a soft navy blue satin tie. Dunk barely manages to keep his thoughts in the moment. They fit snug on his skin, breathable and soft. “Let me know if it bothers you. I’ll take it off immediately.”
Dunk nods. “I am good, Joong. Don’t worry.” And he falls back into Joong’s embrace.
He feels it when the car comes to a stop. Joong slowly detangles their bodies, kissing Dunk’s skin wherever he can access. “Just give me five minutes, okay? Can you stay in the car or do you want me to take you outside?”
It is a very general question of caution. He wants to know if Dunk feels safe enough. And honestly, he doesn’t. The thought of being blindfolded alone with a stranger in a cramped space doesn’t sound good at all. He doesn’t want to be a distraction to Joong, or a bother. He can take care of himself. He is a grown man.
It seems that Joong reads him too well, that words are arbitrary. He caresses Dunk’s cheek and says, “Come out with me. I’ll keep you safe.”
Dunk lets Joong manage it all. He follows, is guided, as Joong carefully pulls him outside and pays for the taxi. The breeze is stronger now, chill and moist. Dunk’s senses are a little spiked up, but he also feels incredibly relaxed. Joong’s hand never leaves him.
He is made to sit on what seems to be a bench as Joong does his thing. He mumbles a song for the entire period, and Dunk has a suspicion it is so Dunk knows he is closeby. He doesn’t know if Joong takes way longer than five minutes or if time just is moving slow, but he doesn’t complain.
His fingers tingle with excitement, heart impatient to see what his boyfriend has planned for him.
And like a clockwork, like Joong is perceptible to every wish of his, he is behind him in a second and pulls him up to stand. “I am going to take off the blindfold now.”
Dunk is left in awe when he opens his eyes. His eyes almost bulge out of their sockets and his jaw drops to the floor. They are at a riverside, a picnic spot of sorts. Ahead of him is a picnic table with lit candles in long glass jars and rose petals all over the surface and the floor nearby. There also is a bottle of a ridiculously expensive wine and a few balloons tied to the benches.
Joong hugs him from behind, pulling Dunk into his arms like a precious thing. He brings his mouth to Dunk’s ears, and in a very, very sexy voice, whispers, “Happy birthday, teerak. I love you the most in the world.”
He doesn’t know what exactly it is. There are a thousand thoughts in his head, a million pieces of emotions in his heart, and he cannot focus on anything. He just feels so overwhelmed with everything he feels for Joong, and without him realising, his eyes become blurry.
He turns around in his man’s arms and hugs him so tight they might as well mould into one person. He buries his face in Joong’s shoulder, almost making them both stumble. But Joong holds him, and keeps their balance. Always the anchor in their relationship. If Dunk is the north star, Joong is the wave that brings their ship of love to him.
And just like that tears fall. They are ugly. And loud. So loud that it rings in Dunk’s ears. But now that he has started, he cannot stop. He has been so strong for the both of them the past few months as hell has been let loose around them. With every move scrutinised, every word twisted, and every act of love manipulated into a hint of hatred, and Joong bearing the most brunt of it, Dunk has tried his hardest to be Joong’s rock, his safe haven.
But it gets to his head, too. Even though he stopped being too active on social media, even though he tries not to give the negative attention, even though he knows the real truth. It is nauseating being under such scrutiny. And for the most part he is okay, but knowing what Joong goes through on the regular, and what happened just a couple hours ago when he posted Dunk, the fact that he still has the energy to hold Dunk this gently, and that his love transcends any condition or boundary, makes Dunk’s heart ache. There is never a day that he doesn’t, with all the gratitude in heart, ask, How did I get so lucky? And now, he cannot stop but wonder, How does Joong even carry this much love in him? Where does he even keep it?
Dunk isn’t the talker in the relationship. He is not the poet, not the musician, not the writer. But one thing about being loved by Joong is he rubs on you, he teaches you the beauty of being in love, the blessedness of having a muse. Between tears and hiccups, Dunk speaks, as much as he can. “I love you so much. I fucking love you so much. I will burn the world to be with you, I can fight everyone for you. You are the best thing to happen to me. Why are you so lovely?”
He doesn’t think he makes much sense, but Joong holds him through it all, and speaks in reply. “I was a discarded seed someone threw after they ate the fruit, you were the land that saw me and took me in, grew me into a tree, nourished me, nurtured me, held onto my roots and gave me strength. You protect me against every harsh wind, you keep together when lightning strikes or the earthquake hits. You don’t even know how much you mean to me, my love. There isn’t enough love in this world for me to give you everything you deserve, but I will make sure till the end of my life and if I am lucky beyond that to ensure you are loved, cared for, and protected.”
This time, Joong holds himself together. He is the one holding them both afloat. And he does so until Dunk stops shaking, until his tears stop falling. And then, he holds Dunk’s face in his hands and kisses his face, every inch of it, with the reverence of a man in devotion. Sometimes, this love feels undeserving. He questions, What have I even done to be loved this beautifully?
“Are you ready to celebrate yourself now, teerak?”
Dunk nods, raising his head to kiss Joong’s forehead. “I love you, my MJ.”
Joong giggles, he fucking giggles like the cutest boy in the world. He is the cutest boy in Dunk’s world. “MJ loves you too, my little sweetiepie strawberry muffin.”
Dunk cannot help but giggle at that, too. Joong is so silly. So beautifully silly. Dunk doesn’t think he will ever believe his luck. “Yes, my little unsweetened whey protein matcha.”
Joong scrunches his nose and pouts his lips in a faux disapproval. “Maybe let’s stick to MJ and leave the food nicknames to me, yeah?”
But he kisses Dunk’s lips as if he enjoys being called that, and Dunk doesn’t get to reply before Joong manhandles him to sit on the bench. Joong takes a seat on the other side of the table and pours them each a glass.
“One drink just for you and me. A toast to us.”
And Dunk agrees. “A toast to us.”
They take their sips. And then Dunk feels a little empty, so he says, “Joong, can you come sit next to me?”
And Joong immediately stands up. He also guides Dunk to sit sideways on the bench, one leg on each side, facing the river and sits behind him the way. Dunk leans comfortably against Joong’s chest and places his hands on Joong’s arms wrapped around him. “How did you find this place?”
Joong kisses his neck before answering. “I just looked for places nearest to us. I didn’t have much to go by, but this looked beautiful and quiet in the pictures. It is nice, isn’t it? Very private, too.”
“Yeah,” Dunk says through the flush of his cheeks. “It is perfect. Thank you, baby. You always go above and beyond for me.”
Joong hums as he continues kissing Dunk’s skin, before murmuring. “It wasn’t me who broke out of the hospital to celebrate your birthday, but sure, I’ll take that, babyboy.”
Dunk feels so cosy right now, he thinks he can sleep right here. The sky has a few stars and the moon is in some waning phase. Dunk brings his legs on top of the bench, planting his feet on it and bending his knees. It’s been so long since they have sat like this, he had almost forgotten how safe and secure it feels.
“Tell me your wishes you want me to fulfil right now,” Joong says.
Dunk thinks about it for a moment. There are so many things he wants to do with Joong. He has to plan and choose. “Let’s begin with you singing me the song you wrote for me.”
Joong’s laugh vibrates Dunk’s body.”Which one,” he asks. He is being a menace because he knows the answer.
“The one you sang yourself.”
And Joong sings it. He tucks Dunk’s head on his chest and encases Dunk’s body like a warm blanket and pours out the lyrics he wrote thinking of Dunk. Dunk looks up at the sky and soaks in this moment. He thinks of every decision he has made in his life that has brought him here. Every step he has taken that has led him to this moment right here.
He is drunk on alcohol and the high of tonight, and loses a lot of his filter. It is not as if he has much of it around Joong anyway. “Do you know,” He starts when Joong finishes singing and takes a sip from his wine, “P’Jing said she and P’Jan thought you were going to propose to me in the restaurant.”
Joong stills for a moment, a frozen body just for a moment before he regains himself and leaves Dunk in a state of worry for a beat longer. “Do you want to marry?”
Dunk looks up at him and finds nothing but love in his eyes. There is no doubt or worry or fear like Dunk was afraid of, but there is an open heart. “Eventually,” he answers honestly.
Practically viewing, it isn’t viable to get married at this point in their life. They are both young and still stabilising their careers. And there is always the risk in coming out to the public. Dunk doesn’t know if they are ready for it. Dunk doesn’t even know how to live with the army of pets Joong has.
“Me too.” Joong places another on the shell of Dunk’s ears. “And we’ll discuss it when the time comes. You have only turned twenty-six. We are in no hurry, are we?”
Dunk agrees with him, even though the more romantic part of him feels the rush of heat at the thought of either of them proposing to each other. He is curious to know it’ll be, because he knows they’ll compete. They are incapable of just letting the other person pamper them more without giving back equally. And Dunk loves the prospect of both. He wants to get on one knee for Joong and speak of every emotion tucked in his little heart for him, but the thought of Joong proposing gets him so elated, too.
“And,” Joong breaks his train of thoughts, “I might joke about it, but I would never propose on your birthday, or any of your important days.”
That gets Dunk surprised. The serious expression on Joong’s face tells a whole story that he wants narrated for him. “Why?”
“Because the days that are made to celebrate you are yours. You deserve better than a man who will take a spotlight on your day. And you deserve better than sharing your birthday to celebrate an anniversary. We can have a different day for it.”
Dunk thinks he will cry again. Everyone knows Joong is thoughtful, but it still comes as an untouched notice exactly how deep his thoughtfulness runs. Dunk has never thought of something like this. “I would actually be honored to celebrate us on my days, Joong. You are the most precious gift life has given me.”
And Joong’s eyes tell that he expected Dunk to say this exact thing. He chuckles and pulls Dunk closer to him, almost beautifully squeezing Dunk’s body in his. “I know. Which is exactly why I want us to have a day for ourselves. What we need to understand is our love has space for the two of us, so there should be space to celebrate us individually. Years later, when, and if, we adopt a child, or children, I want them to look at us and not see just Phor and Daddy, assuming that is what our children will call us. I want them to look at us and see that we are beyond that, that we are beyond being their fathers, beyond being each other’s husbands. I want them to know that we are individuals, Joong and Dunk, and know that to love everyone with the whole of your heart, you should take care of yourself.”
Now, when Dunk cries again, it is silent. It is more of adoration than the precious weight of being loved. Tears fall down his eyes like they cannot be happier to live this life. Joong collects his tears with his thumb and says, “I have made you cry too much, and on your birthday at that.”
Dunk shakes his head. “You love me so much.”
Joong nods and smiles. “I do, baby. More than anything I am capable of, or want to.”
“Me too. You are my most precious.”
It is inevitable. They are lucky there is nobody around them, because neither of them worries about being caught right now. Their lips meet in a natural lock, a magnetic pull that keeps them both grounded. The kiss is slow, gentle, and full of unbounded affection.
They stay close even as they part, just looking into each other’s eyes and brushing their noses together. Joong plants another peck on his mouth before he reaches out to lace his fingers with Dunk’s from the back of Dunk’s palm. He raises their entwined hands and closes them into a fist. Dunk’s hand fits so perfectly in Joong’s. And it looks so aesthetically pleasing. “Let’s always keep holding hands, Natachai.”
“Deal, Archen.”
Vulnerability does get the best of him, because in the thrill of the night and height of endorphins, Dunk asks, “Joong, do you think you can pick me up and spin me?”
“Is this what’s gotten you tense all night?”
Dunk shuts his eyes tight. Of course Joong noticed it. He doesn’t want to make it seem like he doesn’t trust Joong or his strength. He just doesn’t want to worsen Joong’s back and knees. It is already hard with his career as an idol, he doesn’t want to add to it.
“I can, baby. Anytime you want. All you have to do is ask. My joints are fine now, don’t worry about me, okay?”
Dunk feels that jitter of excitement again. He is so happy, he cannot stop thinking about how happy he is. They stand up and Joong wraps Dunk’s arms around his shoulders as he deems safe before wrapping his own around Dunk’s waist.
Dunk’s feet leave the air and he floats as Joong spins him. Giggles fall out of Dunk’s mouth as Joong does turns. It is a different sort of exhilaration, one he has been dying to feel. He holds on to his man even after his feet touch the ground again. And then, just because he can, he puts his arms under Joong’s and carries him too, and then puts him back after a few bounces.
“Oh,” Joong drags, “no princess spin for me?”
Dunk pulls his nose up and sticks his tongue out. “I am the birthday boy. I am the only princess today.”
Joong shrugs his shoulders indulgently. “You are the only princess in this relationship, cute thing. I am the mermaid, remember?”
“That you are.” He pecks Joong’s lips.
“Any other wishes, Your Majesty?”
Dunk thinks about it. With a new burst of confidence rising over his shyness, he gets his mouth close to Joong’s ear and whispers, sultrily, “Well, you still haven’t eaten my birthday cake. How about you do that, and then let me take a ride?”
Joong’s nails make a dent on Dunk’s hip before one of his hands moves to his ass to squeeze a handful. “You don’t get to blame me if anyone finds you limping tomorrow.”
Dunk faces him and smirks, one of his eyebrows raised, “Is that a threat or a promise?”
Joong’s eyes reflect the challenge, darkened, full of luscious desire. He doesn’t answer. Instead bends down to carry Dunk by his thighs and puts him over his shoulder. Dunk yelps, unable to comprehend what just happened to him. The world is upside down all of a sudden. He shouts Joong’s name but only gets a light spank on his ass in response.
“Archen, you haven’t even booked a ride.”
Joong starts walking. “Our hotel is a three minute walk from here. If we are on the Internet tomorrow, you are doing the explaining.”
And Dunk immediately starts thinking of a story. While a major part of him wants them to reach their destination without catching any attention, a smaller, more unhinged part of him hopes they do get caught this way and the internet sees him being fireman-carried by his man who loves him so much that he cannot even bother to contain his boner.
In your fucking face, the bitchy part of him spits out at the thought of it happening.