fullsunsmoon
Fandoms
- NCT (Band) (11)
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The girl with the skirt has moles on her cheek that read like stars, she drinks beer out of plastic cups and tequila out of collarbones. She says her name is something Mary starts to swap with God.
The girl with the skirt chops her hair by herself one night, some scissors and a dream, and she tells Mary when she asks: I like it better this way, it weighs less, it feels more like me.
And Mary wants to say back: I feel that way too. When I’m with you, I feel that way too.
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Donghyuck sees it too clearly—Jaemin is sporting the same gaze he had used back when he and Donghyuck had first started flirting with each other, when he still forgot Jaemin’s name every time but looked for his eyes in every hallway and every class. And Jaemin’s mouth twists the way it does, to this day, whenever he wants to get something from Donghyuck.
It always works on him. Donghyuck wishes Mark to be just as helpless.
“We’re just here because we wanted to adopt a dog.”
(or: nahyuck come into mark's shelter looking for a dog, or a cat, or maybe a new boyfriend?)
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Mark used to have this thing, back in the days, where he’d bid Donghyuck goodbye by softly pressing his lips on Donghyuck's forehead, making him crouch just enough it’d become easy. He’d grab him by both his cheeks and kiss him where now lays a bullet.
Donghyuck used to think it meant something, and he’d hold on with both fists to Mark’s clothes as he did, eyes closed as he prayed for time to stop right there and then, with Mark as close as he could be.
Laying by the swings, almost dead, he had thought that maybe it had been just another warning sign.
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Haechan grips his mic strong, pushes it close to his lips as his cue to sing arrives. It’s been so long since he has been doing this, traveling and rehearsing and performing, day after day of piling up tired bones over tired bones, folding his skin over itself so it stops aching, and still.
Still, he looks at Mark and knows he could have never done it if it wasn’t because of him.
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“I thought you hated the guy,” Taeyong says, unsure of his words.
“Oh baby, ‘til a minute ago I thought the guy hated Mark.”
It certainly looks like that a lot of the time. Those times when they are not pressed onto each other somewhere dark or secluded or quiet, taking God’s name in vain or too out of it to think of smarter words than ‘fuck’.
“I neversaid I hated Lee Donghyuck,” Mark snaps back. “Not that I like him a lot either,” he whisper-y adds.
“I am so confused right now.”
(or: mark has always been a rules guy, little did he expect he'd be braking all of them this christmas.)
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“Is it a promise?”
“Yes, baby. Exactly ten years from now I will marry you.”
“Even if you’re dating and in love with another person?”
“I won’t.”
“Okay, but, if you do?”
“Then I will just not marry you.”
“Mark!”
“You are so easy to tease.” Mark laughs. “No, Donghyuk. I won’t marry anyone that isn’t you. So, yes, I will break their heart to keep yours.”
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A Fool's Paradise by orphan_account for pududoll (aprilclash), intersession
Fandoms: NCT (Band)
15 Jun 2021
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“I guess you have changed, haven’t you?” Donghyuck says.
If Mark is anything like the person he once was, he’ll keep walking away just to spite him – a silent fuck you, Donghyuck-ah – and find someone else to sleep with, someone older with more experience and more money and more accolades than Donghyuck.
This isn’t one of those times.
(Or: Donghyuck spends months planning this gala, but all of that goes awry when his ex-boyfriend enters the premises.)
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What seems to do the trick most times is closing his eyes and counting down from seven, a combination of all his favorite things: it's his lucky number, he gets to press pause on reason and logic, and when he opens them he’s always welcomed with Donghyuck’s face.
Three, two, one, eyes open, and—there’s silk pajamas, crossed arms leaning into the rolled down window of his car and disinterest coming off every pore of a face that isn't Donghyuck’s, one that greets him with, "He told me to tell you he's not getting in a car with you."
What’s always minus one?(or, Donghyuck is Mark’s plus one to his sister’s wedding, and it all seems to be going as planned until it doesn't.)
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Mark’s lips pull up at the corners, too, but for a different reason. “Teach me?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck nods, leaning in to kiss Mark’s cheek. His lips stay pillowed there for a beat too long, like he’s committing the feel to memory, before drawing back and running a thumb over the chapstick-tacky skin. His eyes meet Mark’s, teasing just as much as they are serious. “I can teach you how to touch me.”
(Mark could navigate Donghyuck blind, but he supposes a set of whispered instructions in his ear wouldn’t hurt.)
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Doyoung has made it his job to know things, and yet he's never seen a bigger and more tragic love.