CODE NAME: B R O

Prejudice

Joong could not sleep. He was hot. His mind spun. His heart did cartwheels. He squirmed out from under the blanket and sat up. He grabbed the hem of his shirt.

Dunk was not asleep either and raised an eyebrow.

Joong glared at him. "You mind?"

Dunk said, "No. Go ahead." He was already shirtless.

Joong ripped his shirt over his head and threw it onto the foot of the bed.

They lay in bed facing each other, warming each other's face with their breath. An eternity passed.

Just when Joong thought they would lay awake staring in silence the whole night, Dunk reached over and with two fingers gently smoothed hair out of his eyes.

Joong closed them, exquisitely aware of the tenderness being given with that touch.

Dunk's voice was soft when he said, "Do you want to tell me what's really going on?"

Joong opened his eyes. Dunk was, of course, referring to his chair-throwing outburst.

But, that honest, open expression Dunk always had, cracked Joong's heart. Realization hit. Dunk's silence had hurt him.

Did Dunk not know? Well, honestly, he didn't even realize he was feeling hurt. How could Dunk possibly know? "Why didn't you talk to me about wanting to come here?"

Dunk sighed, then fiddled with the hem of the sheet. In Thai, he said, "It was last minute."

"Are you telling me that you didn't plan to leave me after the fan meeting?"

"No. Yes. Yes, flying here was planned, but the invitation to come in the first place came after we landed in Tokyo, and we were swamped until it was over. It was too late by that time for any discussion."

"I see," Joong said quietly.

"Are you hurt by me not talking to you about it?"

"You haven't contacted me since. What was I supposed to think? How was I supposed to feel?"

Dunk was quiet for a moment. He said softly, "I was hurting too."

"What? By who? How?"

"Natachai is just my bro? Just my bro. Really?"

Joong abruptly sat up. "Shit."

"Did you mean it – ?"

" – no!"

Dunk sat up beside him.

Neither said anything. They regarded one another as the clock on the bedside flipped numbers three, then four times, creating a brief flash of light against the headboard each time.

Dunk spoke first. "So, what is this, then?" He waved his hand between the two of them. "Fan service?"

Joong shook his head. "I thought we said we don't do that."

"But. We. Do." Dunk's eyes shimmered but didn't spill tears. "We do it all the time."

It was absolutely true. They were playing games with it tonight.

Dunk continued, "I, for one, am always aware of audience reaction. I am aware of everyone all the time whenever we are 'out.' He used his fingers to outline the word. "I am aware of all the actions, words, looks that can be misconstrued."

They could claim anything they wanted but the hard fact was that they were both keenly alert to anything that led fans down the road to delulu-land.

Joong leaned toward the pain in Dunk's voice. He whispered, "I am so sorry."