Chapter Text
The air in the small bar cubicle was thick, tainted by smoke, cheap perfume, and a visceral urgency that nullified any trace of decorum. The music, a low and constant pulse vibrating from the main hall, seemed to be miles away; in here, the only possible universe was the frantic collision of two bodies devouring each other, neither knowing nor wanting to know who the other was.
The guy, shrouded in a dimness that only revealed the wild glint in his eyes, had Phuwin pinned against the worn wooden wall. The cold of the wall contrasted violently with the suffocating heat emanating from his skin. Phuwin, his legs firmly intertwined around the older man's waist, felt suspended in a tide of sensations, surrendered to an implacable rhythm that prevented him from thinking, erasing his lucidity with every thrust.
"Ah...!" a moan escaped Phuwin, muffled against the stranger's shoulder, as his nails sank mercilessly into the man's tense back muscles, clinging on as if it were the only solid thing in the middle of a sensory shipwreck.
The boy wasn't looking for softness. Each impact was a claim, a declaration of possession that made the tiles beneath their feet vibrate. With heavy breathing and raw instinct, the stranger lifted his head to seek Phuwin's lips, devouring him in a kiss that tasted of alcohol and silent competition.
"Damn it," he growled near his ear, his deep voice resounding like thunder in the confined space. His hand, firm and dominant, pressed harder against Phuwin's thigh, forcing him to fit better, to accept the wild swaying without escape.
"Harder..." whispered Phuwin, a challenge thrown into the void, defying the intensity of the man subduing him.
The guy paused the kiss just enough to catch his breath, but without breaking the rhythm that consumed them. His eyes, dark with lust and an arrogance that was beginning to burn, locked onto Phuwin's, demanding a surrender that the boy was not willing to give easily.
"Tell me your name," he demanded, his voice raspy, cornering him against the wall with a weight that cut off his breath.
Phuwin let out a broken laugh, a mix of pleasure and defiance that turned into a moan when the guy accelerated, punishing him for his silence.
"Why do you want to know...?" he gasped, refusing to yield ground. Even in total surrender, hostility was his shield; a barrier that alcohol could not tear down.
"Are you like this with everyone?" he snapped, with a mocking and self-sufficient smile while he increased the intensity with malice, seeking to rip the answer out of him through pure pleasure. "Do you fucking strangers without even asking their names?"
Phuwin could only shake his head, throwing his torso back in a perfect arch, his neck exposed, surrendered to the wave of sensations that clouded him. The older man, enjoying the power he exerted, bit the skin of his neck, marking his territory right where the heat was most intense, reaffirming control of the situation.
"Tell me yours..." challenged Phuwin, gritting his teeth, trying to catch his breath while sinking his nails into the man's nape, trying to drag him into his own chaos. "Tell me yours, damn it!"
The guy let out a triumphant smile before crushing Phuwin's mouth with a possessiveness that allowed for no rebuttal.
"Pond," he sentenced, before melting into him again. "Pond Naravit," he growled, increasing the intensity of the thrusts.
"Pond..." repeated Phuwin, savoring the name while the echo of his own moans bounced off the cold tiles of the bathroom.
Pond, with his dark gaze and erratic breathing, did not slow the rhythm. Each clash between their bodies seemed designed to erase any trace of rational thought. He stopped for a second, just enough to brush his lips against Phuwin's ear, causing a shiver that ran down his entire spine.
"I like how my name sounds in your mouth," whispered Pond in a raspy voice, before returning to claim his lips in a deep, desperate kiss that tasted of tequila and forbidden complicity—one they both knew would not go beyond that night.
The rhythm changed: it became deep, devastatingly intimate, almost agonizing. The hits against the wall became slower, heavier, loaded with a friction that stripped them of all masks. In that cubicle, ignored by the party continuing outside, were just two strangers, enemies for a night, losing themselves in the echo of a surrender that, without knowing it, was just beginning to write its story.
Phuwin, with his legs trembling from the drunkenness and the frantic rhythm Pond imposed on him, felt his sanity vanish with each movement. His fingers sank into Pond's shoulders, clinging to him as if he were the only anchor in the middle of high tide.
The outside world, the bar's music, and the people waiting outside ceased to exist. In that small, confined space, only the rubbing of their skin and the promise not to stop until exhaustion was the only possible end mattered.
One year later
"Which is your room?" Phuwin asked while looking at Dunk.
Dunk, checking the information they had at their disposal, replied immediately: "302," Dunk read from the paper.
Phuwin, knowing the layout of the place well, smiled mischievously upon noting the location: "You're close to Fourth and Satang," Phuwin commented, before adding with a playful smile: "Good luck with that."
Dunk, aware of what that proximity implied, couldn't help but react to the revelation: "You have to be kidding me," Dunk huffed, amused by the situation.
Both continued walking down the dormitory hallway, the echo of their footsteps resonating against the campus's freshly painted walls. As they neared room 302, the usual hubbub of students settling in filled the air, but one voice in particular stood out above the rest, breaking the afternoon's tranquility.
"Dunk?! You got this floor too?!" shouted Fourth from the end of the hall, with a radiant smile and eyes lit up with surprise, as he began to walk hurriedly toward them with his hands clapping in pure excitement.
Dunk, seeing his friend's boundless energy approaching, stopped dead, feeling his shoulders slump with a mix of resignation and comic drama.
"I'm going to die," whispered Dunk, with an expression of feigned horror while he watched the boy rushing toward him with that characteristic intensity.
Phuwin, watching the scene from a safe distance, couldn't help but let out a laugh, enjoying the spectacle of seeing Dunk face the chaotic reality of his friends.
Fourth, who had already been snooping in the registration envelopes, snatched the key from Dunk with a quick and mischievous movement, letting out a cry of victory upon reading the number. "302! Dunk! We'll be floor neighbors!" He jumped on his heels, celebrating the coincidence as if it were destiny.
"I can't believe we're going to study together!" exclaimed Fourth, his eyes shining with pure euphoria. Without being able to contain himself, he launched himself to hug Dunk and Phuwin, ignoring the weight of the suitcases he could barely hold.
Dunk, trying to catch his breath after the suffocating hug, separated a little and looked at Phuwin with curiosity. "What room did you get? Are we at least close?"
Phuwin, who was still trying to orient himself among the maze of exposed-brick buildings, pointed toward the east wing, further away from the center of campus. "I got one in the other building. A little remote, but I suppose it's fine," he said, observing the surroundings with that spark of independence that characterized him so much.
"Where is Satang?" asked Fourth, stopping his clapping to look directly at Phuwin.
Phuwin, with a calm and carefree smile, didn't even bother to look for him; he already knew perfectly well where he would find the rest of the circle. He made a casual gesture with his hand, pointing vaguely toward the direction of the campus administrative facilities.
"He was looking at something about scholarships," Phuwin replied simply.
The group was walking at a good pace when, upon turning a corner near the training fields, Dunk—too busy trying not to be dragged along by Fourth's energy—ended up crashing head-on into a boy who was walking in the opposite direction. The books and a water bottle the stranger was carrying were about to hit the ground.
"I'm sorry!" Dunk apologized quickly, regaining his balance.
"Sorry, I didn't..." the boy stopped dead upon looking up. His eyes scanned Dunk from head to toe before resting on his face, giving him a slow and quite charming smile. Then, his gaze drifted toward the rest of the group. "Are you new? I've never... I've never seen you before."
"Yes," answered Fourth, stepping forward with his natural cheek. "It's our first year."
"That explains it," replied the boy, keeping his gaze fixed on Dunk, who seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Phuwin, observing the scene, noticed how his friend's cheeks were beginning to turn a quite obvious shade of crimson.
To break the small moment of tension (and help Dunk, who seemed to have locked up), Phuwin decided to intervene:
"Well, a pleasure. I'm Phuwin, he is Fourth, and the guy you just bumped into is Dunk," he said, giving his friend a playful nudge to get him to react.
"Nice to meet you," responded the boy, extending his hand with confidence. "Joong."
"Joong Archen?" Fourth looked at him immediately, his eyes narrowed as if trying to confirm a theory.
"Do you know him?" asked Dunk, surprised, while he accepted Joong's handshake, whose hand was noticeably larger and warmer than his own.
Fourth let out a malicious giggle before responding:
"I heard some girls talking about you all the way from the cafeteria to block 3. Apparently, you're the main topic of conversation in the faculty this semester."
Joong let out a carefree laugh, but didn't let go of Dunk's hand immediately, which made the latter's blush even more intense.
"Oh, really?" Joong raised an eyebrow, looking at Dunk with a spark of amusement. "I hope they said good things. I wouldn't want to make a bad first impression, especially with you guys."
Dunk, stuttering slightly, only managed to smile nervously, while Phuwin and Fourth exchanged a look loaded with complicity, realizing that the campus tour had just become much more interesting.
Joong walked away with a firm and carefree stride, although before turning the corner, he cast one last look back, ensuring that his eyes met Dunk's one more time.
Dunk stood motionless for a second, feeling heat rising up his neck while the campus air seemed to have suddenly become much heavier.
"Well, I have to go train. A pleasure, guys. Welcome," said Joong, with a lopsided smile that seemed to hide a secret, before finally disappearing from their sight.
The silence he left behind was brief, immediately broken by Fourth's enthusiasm, who didn't waste a second processing what had just happened.
"He definitely liked you," Fourth blurted out with a triumphant smile, giving Dunk a nudge in the ribs. "He didn't even look at us after we introduced ourselves. His eyes were glued to you."
Dunk, still processing the intensity of Joong's gaze, tried to compose himself while they walked, trying to hide the smile that inevitably escaped him.
"You're crazy, Fourth. He was just being polite because I bumped into him," replied Dunk, although his voice lacked conviction.
Phuwin, walking a little further behind with his hands in his pockets, chuckled to himself, enjoying the teenage drama unfolding in front of him.
"Dunk, believe me," intervened Phuwin in a mocking tone, "people don't look at someone like that out of 'politeness'. If that was polite, I don't want to know what happens when someone is actually interested in you."
"Shut up, Phuwin," replied Dunk, giving him a friendly shove as they picked up the pace toward the training area.
"Satang!" shouted Phuwin upon seeing his friend coming out of a building.
The person in question looked up, and upon recognizing the trio, a genuine smile lit up his face, erasing the seriousness of his training. He started to jog toward them.
Meanwhile, Dunk, who was trying to regain his composure after the encounter with Joong, hid slightly behind Phuwin, still feeling a bit out of place in such an energetic environment.
"You arrived just in time!" said Satang upon arriving, panting a little as he approached to greet them. "How is the move going, Dunk? Have you already survived Fourth or are you still considering asking for a room change?"
Dunk let out a nervous giggle, watching as Fourth rolled his eyes in feigned offense.
"Dunk doesn't waste time," said Fourth with a mischievous smile, "he already has a boyfriend and everything."
Satang stopped dead as his eyes widened, clearly surprised.
"Boyfriend?" asked Satang, letting out a small laugh of disbelief.
"Joong Archen," added Fourth, enjoying every second of his friend's bewilderment.
"WHAT? Joong Archen?" exclaimed Satang, almost spitting out the water he was about to drink. His tone was a mix of shock and pure disbelief.
Phuwin, who stayed a bit more on the sidelines analyzing the situation, observed Satang with curiosity.
"Is he that famous?" asked Phuwin, remembering the relaxed attitude of the boy they had just met.
Satang nodded vehemently, setting aside the joke to get serious.
"He's the co-captain of the basketball team," explained Satang, gesturing with his hands. "The whole campus is crazy about him. He's practically the faculty celebrity."
Phuwin raised an eyebrow, remembering the brief encounter in the hallway.
"Really?" said Phuwin, thoughtful. "Well, he seemed nice. I didn't get the impression that he was someone pretentious."
"He is very nice, and that is exactly what makes him so dangerous," replied Satang with a sardonic smile. "That's why he's so popular, because he's kind to everyone and he also plays incredibly well. He's the total package."
Dunk, who until that moment had been trying to go unnoticed while his face regained a more natural color, finally let out a huff, crossing his arms to hide his nerves.
"I'm sure he's an idiot," sentenced Dunk with a tone of feigned annoyance, although deep in his eyes still shone the memory of the intense gaze that Joong had dedicated to him just a few minutes ago.
Fourth let out a loud laugh, giving Dunk a playful nudge on the shoulder.
"Sure, Dunk, whatever you say!" he mocked, while Satang and Phuwin shared a knowing smile.
"Have you toured the whole university yet?" asked Satang, looking at the trio.
"Something like that," replied Phuwin, shrugging his shoulders while looking at the large campus they still had left to discover.
"There's a faculty party tonight," announced Satang, with a tone that suggested that this was the most important event of the century.
Dunk, who until that moment was trying to digest all the new information, let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes with affection.
"Don't tell me," said Dunk with irony. "You and Perth haven't stopped talking about it since before we entered this university. I think you even put it in your will."
Fourth let out a laugh and hung off Satang's shoulder.
"It's the law, Dunk! It's the official baptism for the first-years," explained Fourth, enthusiastically. "If you don't go, it's as if you didn't exist to the rest of the campus. Besides, can you imagine who else is going to be there?"
Satang gave Dunk a sly look, arching an eyebrow with malice.
"Exactly. Imagine the basketball team... surely Joong Archen will be in the front row," commented Satang, unable to avoid rubbing salt in the wound.
Dunk felt his cheeks catch fire again and looked at Phuwin seeking an ally, but he was simply laughing his head off at the situation.
"See, Dunk?" added Phuwin, giving him a pat on the back. "Destiny is dragging you to that party, whether you like it or not."
"I hate that you're right," muttered Dunk, although in his mind, the idea of meeting Joong in a less formal setting than a faculty hallway was starting to seem much less terrifying and much more interesting.