Chapter Text
It feels dangerous how quickly he and Dunk fall into a habit. Every day that the pair worked together, one would always follow the other home. They’d not say anything to each other, but the door would always be unlocked (if not left open in it entirely).
By the time the concert rolls around, the last thing on his mind is his sexuality or what he really is to Dunk. Because right now they are coworkers that absolutely cannot fuck up.
“Ah-ah-I— Fuck— I’m close—“ The words are punched out of Dunk as each thrust of Joong’s cock pressed against the bundle of nerves deep within him. Joong’s hand pressed firmly on the back of Dunk’s neck, keeping his chest against the silk bedsheets, but still ensuring that Dunk’s hips are raised. Rubbing his hand against the sweat-slicked hairline, he leans forward to kiss the heated skin, changing the angle in the process. The push of Joong lowers Dunk's body down, finally pressing him into the mattress fully. The friction of his cock smashed into the sheets and sliding in time with Joong’s hard thrusts causes Dunk’s walls around Joong to tighten.
Joong’s teeth find Dunk’s earlobe, and he pulls on it, making sure to flick his tongue on the tip of it. When he lets the ear go, he doesn’t move, instead just grunting into Dunk’s ear. Throughout the many MANY times the pair found themselves in this situation, the one thing that Joong knew the best is that Dunk loved to hear him. Either moans as Dunk swallows his cock or the deep groans as he takes Dunk. As soon as Joong lets the sweet noises leave his mouth, it’s Dunk’s undoing.
With a silent moan, Dunk’s orgasm tears through him. His fingers grip the bedsheets, desperate to stabilize himself. Joong only quickens his pace, feeling the tightness in his lower stomach build. Dunk’s headboard knocks repeatedly against the wall, and Joong’s thrust becomes harder, frantically chasing the release. His final thrust is deep, coating Dunk’s inner walls with his cum.
Joong’s body twitches in aftershocks as he avoids overstimulating the both of them. Dunk’s eyes, which had closed shut after he had cum, slowly peer open to make contact with Joong’s gaze. Only when Dunk forms a soft smile does he pull himself out of Dunk, and he flops down next to him. Joong’s muscles are sore and only now does the cool air of the apartment register in his brain.
“I should turn off the AC before we get sick…” Yet despite saying these words, Joong does not move. Instead his hand rubs soothing circles into Dunk’s defined shoulder muscles, trying to release the tension that had formed from exertion. Dunk adjusts himself in the bed, turning his head to face Joong, giving him a full view of the sleepy fucked out look painting Dunk’s features.
“When… can I fuck you?” Dunk’s words are slow, and absentminded. They ring through the room as Dunk’s eyes slip shut, letting sleep consume him completely. Joong’s hand stops on Dunk’s back as he feels his blood run cold. He lets the thought run through his head, bouncing on the walls of his skull. Fans joke about DunkJoong often, especially since Dunk bulked up, but no one ever thought about it seriously. Or at least Joong never took it seriously. But now that it’s in the air, he needs to.
He gets out of bed frantically, yet still making sure to not wake Dunk. His body doesn’t feel right. His limbs tingle and he can’t stay still for a second longer. In a frenzy, he pulls his pants up over his lower body and throws his button up shirt over his shoulder. As he walks, he pauses by the door to look at Dunk.
He stands, and stares, mind racing. Before he walks out the door, he makes sure to turn off the thermostat, and he closes the door behind him.
They fucked it up
He is moving on auto pilot as he gathers his shoes from where he had kicked them off early in the evening, and his keys that he threw on the kitchen island as they stumbled through the condo. Just having reminders causes his blood to run cold. An unshakable feeling of dread from the tips of his fingers to somewhere deep in his chest.
The worst part about all of this is that his rational brain is fighting the feelings, trying to keep the rest of his body in check. He tries to repeat reassurances to himself: it’s Dunk. It’s Dunk. He’d take great care of you. He’s done nothing but take great care of you. You’ve also fucked him plenty of times, it’s not any different from getting fucked. You haven’t panicked about this recently, why the fuck are you starting again? It’s not different.
Yet no matter how much sense he tries to knock into himself, his feelings won’t get the memo. Because he’s fucked Dunk more than a few times, and it was great. Why is it as soon as he thinks properly that everything around him becomes writtled with stains?
Joong doesn’t normally over think. Normally when he does, and it turns out okay. Right now, he’s done so much, and when he does stop to think he’s not sure if it will turn out okay. Part of him knows that if he just sits and talks it through with Dunk, he’d know that it would be okay. Dunk would soothe his worries like he always has, and they could collect the pieces of Joong’s mind together. But right in this very second, he can’t. His mind yells at him to leave, to run, to not push what they already have.
He drives home in silence. Only sounds that can be heard are the faint buzzing from the car and the hammering of Joong’s heart. Joong’s hands grip onto the leather steering wheel with force, and his eyes remain glued on the road. His chest heaves as his mind keeps trying to fall back into its panicked thoughts. Each time he feels his mind drifting into that dark place, he forces himself to focus more on the drivers around him. Driving in this state, even with it being such a late hour, is dangerous. Keeping his eyes on the cars around him is a chore that slips from his mind.
He doesn't want to be around someone, but the sudden loud sound of Aou’s ringtone plays through the car speakers. Piercing through the cold silence of the car, Joong lets it play for a few moments. By the final ring, Joong’s shaky hand presses the accept button on his dash.
“Damn I didn’t actually think you’d answer. Well fuck one second—“ Aou’s voice is clear. On his end, there is the sound of a few papers being shuffled around and something plastic being set on a table. Other than those noises, there is a soft hum of an amplifier’s feedback that’s faintly audible during the moments of pure silence. “Ah okay hold on let me start at the beginning; I’ve been preparing a new piece for the band because I got a free day tomorrow, and I wanted some of your opinions on it.”
Aou pauses for a moment, waiting for Joong’s response. When a few moments pass of silence, Aou speaks again, “are you okay man? Why are you up so late?” Aou’s voice is laced with a concern that causes Joong's chest to tighten instantly.
“I fucked up, I think. I don’t know. I just couldn’t stand being there, and I think I’m lost. I haven’t been paying attention to driving at all and I just needed to leave. I— I—“
“Joong, hold on. What happened?”
“The guy—Dunk— he asked—“ He stops. Blood runs cold. Shit. Fuck. He said Dunk’s name.
“Dunk asked what?” Aou keeps his voice level, asking but not prying.
“I can’t say.” Joong glares at the road ahead of him. He’s taken so many lefts and rights through intersections that he genuinely does know where he is anymore. He’s still in the city, large buildings surround him and the other drivers, but he must be towards the edge of it by now.
“Joong, are you still driving? Pull over and take a second. You out of there, yeah? Breathe.” Joong does what his Phi tells him. Putting the hazard lights on, and pulling over to the edge of the road. It’s not a parking spot, as it’s right in front of a red fire hydrant, but it gives him 20 minutes. “I’m not asking you to tell me what happened, but stay on the line with me and talk me through what you want. I’m here.”
“Why do I fucking feel like this? Like we get comfortable, and then randomly I fucking feel like my skin is covered in ants and I bolt out the door.” Joong starts by carefully picking his words, but his mindfully starts to shake the more he speaks. The feeling of letting it all out rushes over him as the words continue, “it was a simple question, but it scares the shit out of me. Everything we are now scares the shit out of me. One wrong step and I’m over the edge.” A ragged breath comes from Joong’s lips, and his eyes sting. “The worst part, is that I’m not one hundred percent sure he’ll come with me.”
“What makes you think Dunk would leave you hanging like that? You’ve been partners for almost 6 years and friends for longer. He cares about you so much.” Aou says. Joong rolls down the window, letting fresh air hit his face. The smell of the city and other cars around him ground him, and the street lamps on the sidewalks illuminate the world around him and his car.
“It’s different now. We are different now. Aou, I look at him differently. When I see him, it’s different and I don’t know ho—“
“Did you fall in love with him?” Aou speaks without thinking, and as soon as Aou realizes, his own eyes go wide. The goal of the call was to just leave a voicemail of the draft for the vocals of their new song before Aou forgot the melody he just made. Joong wasn’t actually supposed to answer, instead listen to it in the morning and give Aou a call back to give his opinion on it. But instead Joong answered, and the melody was long forgotten. “Wait shit, I’m sorry-“
Three soft beeps play over the line as Joong hangs up.