Joong stirred in his sleep, his body still heavy with exhaustion.
At first, he ignored it-the faint sounds coming from the kitchen. He knew what day it was. 12 AM. His friends had probably come to surprise him for his birthday, just like they did every year.
He didnât bother opening his eyes.
But then- something was different.
A scent.
A familiar, comforting scent.
Joongâs eyes fluttered open, his brows furrowing slightly.
Joong:
Pancakes�
His voice was hoarse from sleep.
He turned onto his side, still half-asleep, his mind trying to piece things together.
Joong:
Phuwin, donât do anything stupid-
His words came out as a sleepy whine, assuming it was his friends messing around.
But⦠there was no response.
Only the quiet clinking of utensils and the soft sizzling of batter hitting a pan.
Joongâs heartbeat skipped.
Something felt off.
Phuwin, Pond, and the others they were loud. Too loud. They would be shouting Happy Birthday by now, laughing and playfully scolding him for sleeping through his own surprise.
But now�
It was silent.
Too silent.
The only sound was the gentle flipping of pancakes.
Joong sat up slowly, his body tensing.
His mind was fully awake now.
His heart pounding.
Because suddenly, this wasnât normal.
This wasnât his friends.
Something else was in his kitchen.
And that something⦠was making pancakes.
Joong swallowed hard, his breath shaky.
Joong:
Could it be�
No.
That was impossible.
Right?
With a mix of hesitation and hopeful fear, Joong stood up.
His feet felt cold against the floor as he made his way toward the kitchen.
Every step felt heavy.
Every step made his chest tighten.
He didnât know if he wanted to run toward it or run away.
Because if this was a dream, he wasnât sure if he ever wanted to wake up.
And if it wasnâtâ¦
Joong clenched his fists.
Then who was in his kitchen at midnight?
Making pancakes?
The pancakes that only one person had ever made for him before?
His heart pounded harder
And with a deep breath
He turned the corner.
Joongâs breath hitched.
His hand shook. His fingers trembled as they clenched into weak fists at his sides.
He felt his legs go numb.
Because this-
This wasnât possible.
And yet-
There he was.
His Dunk.
Standing in the kitchen.
Standing right in front of him.
His soft brown hair slightly messy, his delicate hands flipping pancakes Joongâs pancakes.
The same soft eyes that Joong had spent two years searching for.
The same innocent smile Joong thought heâd never see again.
Joong took a shaky step forward, his entire body trembling.
His voice barely above a whisper scared that if he spoke too loudly, this dream would shatter.
Joong:
I must be dreamingâ¦
He chuckled bitterly.
His mind screamed at him this isnât real.
He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to snap himself back into reality.
Because Dunk wasnât here.
He had disappeared hadnât he?
But then-
Dunk turned toward him.
His doe eyes shined under the warm kitchen light.
His lips curved into the softest, purest smile.
And then
Dunk:
Joong...
That was it.
That was all it took.
Joongâs vision blurred.
His breath hitched.
And tears spilled down his cheeks before he could stop them.
His body shook violently, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Because this was real.
Dunk was real.
He was here.
He was standing here, in Joongâs kitchen, after two years.
After two years of heartbreak.
After two years of crying himself to sleep.
After two years of feeling like he had lost the only person he had ever truly loved.
And now
Now he was here.
Standing in front of him.
Smiling.
As if he had never left.
Dunk:
Happy birthday, Joong. Iâm sorry Iâm late.
Joong broke.
A strangled sob escaped from his throat as he ran.
Ran straight into Dunkâs arms.
He held him so tightly-afraid that if he let go, Dunk would disappear again.
His crying grew louder, his entire body trembling against Dunkâs smaller frame.
His fingers dug into the fabric of Dunkâs shirt, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white.
Because he couldnât let go.
Dunk's warmth, his scent, the familiar feeling of home it was all real.
Joong sobbed harder, burying his face in Dunkâs neck, breathing him in.
Joong:
Dunkâ¦
His voice cracked.
Dunk gently rubbed Joongâs back, soothing him, whispering soft words only meant for him.
Dunk:
Iâm here, Joong. Iâm here now
Joong pulled back slightly, cupping Dunkâs face between his trembling hands.
His teary eyes searched Dunkâs, as if he still couldnât believe it.
Joong:
Baby⦠are you back?
Dunk nodded, his own eyes glassy with emotion.
Dunk:
I am, Joong
Joong let out a breathless laugh, smiling through his endless stream of tears.
Dunk leaned in, his lips brushing against Joongâs tear-stained cheeks.
Soft. Gentle.
Reassuring.
Dunk:
Donât cry, Joong
Joong hiccupped, sniffling like a child.
And then
Dunk pressed his lips onto Joongâs.
Joong froze.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before melting into the kiss.
He tightened his hold around Dunkâs waist, pulling him closer, needing more.
The kiss was desperate, deep, full of longing.
Two years.
Two whole years without this.
Without him.
And now-
Joong wasnât going to let him go ever again.
They pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each otherâs.
Joong stared at Dunk, his eyes full of love, pain, relief, and a thousand unspoken words.
And then-
Joongâs vision blurred.
His head spun.
His body swayed.
And before he could process what was happening-
Everything went dark.
Joong collapsed.
Right into Dunkâs arms.
Joong jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. His breath was erratic, his forehead damp with sweat.
His mind raced, panic surging through his veins as he frantically looked around.
He was in his bed.
His apartment.
Alone.
Alone.
Joong's chest tightened.
Joong:
No. No. No.
It wasn't a dream.
It couldnât have been a dream.
Because i had felt it.
I had felt Dunk.
His warmth. His scent. His touch.
I had kissed him.
Dunk was here last night.
Joong's hands clenched into the bedsheet, his entire body trembling.
His voice came out as a desperate whisper
Joong:
Dunk...
Silence.
His throat tightened as he called out louder
Joong:
Dunk!! Baby?!
Nothing.
Nothing.
A lump formed in Joong's throat, and his eyes burned with unshed tears.
Then
Footsteps.
The door burst open.
Pond ran inside, his face full of concern.
Pond:
Not again, Joong! Please, not today-itâs your birthday.
Joong snapped his head towards him, his eyes wild.
Joong:
Are you an idiot?! My Dunk was with me last night!!
Pond froze.
He sighed heavily, exchanging glances with Phuwin, who had just entered behind him.
Phuwin rubbed his temple before speaking carefully
Phuwin:
Joong⦠I think you were dreaming. Because when we came, you were already asleep on your bed.
Joongâs breath hitched.
No.
No, this wasnât right.
It felt real.
He remembered every detail
Dunkâs voice. His touch. The pancakes. The way he kissed him.
His heart clenched painfully.
His fingers twitched at the memory.
It wasnât a dream.
It was real.
It had to be.
Pond:
Joong, please... get ready. Your fans are waiting for you. Theyâve been waiting for your comeback for two years
Joong stayed silent.
Pond:
Just meet them, please
Joong clenched his jaw. His nails dug into his palms.
He took a slow, deep breath and nodded stiffly.
Joong:
Fine. I'd do it.
But only because he wanted to stop feeling like this.
Joong stepped into the familiar building, the air thick with anticipation.
His fans his loyal fans had never given up on him.
They waited.
For him.
For a comeback that would never happen.
Joong avoided their eyes.
He ignored the whispers.
Ignored the posters of him and a hundred potential partners.
Because none of them were Dunk.
And he would never accept anyone but Dunk.
He entered the office, his heart heavy.
Tha turned, his face breaking into a smile.
Tha:
Happy birthday, Joong
Joong forced a small, tired smile.
Joong:
Thank you, phi
Tha sat back in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk.
Then, he sighed.
Tha:
Joong⦠I know youâve rejected every series, every partner, every opportunity weâve given you.
Joong stiffened.
Tha:
But I swear, I found someone you should meet.
Joong exhaled sharply, already done with this conversation.
Joong:
Phi, please. Not today
Tha leaned forward.
Tha:
Just hear me out
Joong rubbed his temple, exhaustion creeping into his bones.
Tha:
Heâs my friendâs son. He came from a small village kind, innocent, and incredibly talented. Heâs new, but I promise, Joong, heâs good.
Joongâs head snapped up.
For a moment just a moment his heart skipped a beat.
Joong:
(Village? Innocent? No. No, it canât be.)
His breath caught in his throat.
Joong:
And⦠where is he?
Tha:
Heâs here in the building
Joongâs fingers curled into a fist.
Joong:
I donât care
His voice was sharp. Cold.
His chest ached.
Because it was never going to be him
Tha sighed, leaning back.
Tha:
As you wish. But if you change your mind, heâs in Room 110
Joongâs heart pounded....