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It's almost unbearably hot when Mark opens his eyes in the middle of the Yellow Sea. The wavering reflection of the early summer sun screams at him from where he's standing on the deck of the ferry. He feels its bright rays burn the skin on his nose and cheeks, shuffles back until he's covered by the shade of the canopy. It's been hours since the sun rose, beaming down on the heads of all the passengers on board of the sixth ferry to Jeju island of the week, and late June days seem to last forever, so when it finally starts sinking towards the western horizon, Mark heaves a relieved sigh and wipes the sweat from his sticky forehead.
His parents are sitting beside him on the second row of red and blue plastic chairs, pointing at pictures of green fields in a Jeju travel guide. "We have to go see Sunrise Peak," his mother tells his father excitedly, the latter sighing at the heat pressing down on them, "I miss nature in Seoul, Canada made me too used to having it all around me."
Mark decides to leave it to them to discuss their upcoming activities on the island, he doesn't really care a lot about what they do anyways, as long as he gets to feel the ocean all around him. He's quite disappointed that his older brother Yoonoh decided to ditch him with their parents last minute to take a trip to China with Taeyong and Sicheng, but then again Yoonoh just teases him constantly and two months away from him might do him some good.
He rakes a hand through his blond hair, the dye and salty air having turned it into a dry mess, and breathes in deeply, the scent of summer filling his nose. He peers out over the seemingly endless expanse of ocean, the line of the horizon blurring with the blue of the cloudless evening sky. Screeching gulls circle the deck, trying to fight the sea breeze that's constantly pushing them down towards the water. Mark enjoys the cacophony of summer sounds that fills his head, the waves slamming against the hull, the wind howling in his ears, the distant excited chattering of tourists ready to spend their holidays under the burning sun. He feels at ease, feels the pressure of achieving fade away into the background as he leaves the gigantic grey metropole he spends the days in farther and farther behind him.
"Mark," his father rests a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder, "Come have dinner with us downstairs, and pack your stuff after, we'll be docking in an hour or two." Mark nods and smiles up at his father. "Are you excited?" He asks, voice softer than it seems to be in the city, it floats on the wind for a bit. "I am actually, now that we're almost there," Mark tells him, and turns around to follow him down the metal stairs to the dining area.
---
When the ferry docks, the crescent moon is already high in the sky, bright stars shimmering clearly in the non-light polluted night. Mark sets his suitcase down on the quay, inhales the cool fresh island air. "Put your suitcase in the car, honey," his mother urges him, "We still have to go get the keys to the house so we have to hurry a bit."
It's a half hour drive from the port to the part of town where their summer house is situated on top of a grassy hill. Mark gets out of the car and feels a cold sea wind claw at the exposed skin of his arms and legs, it smells of salt and grass. He is so used to sweltering summers in the city spent under the air conditioner and in the riverside parks that the chilly air is a welcomed change from the usual inescapable humidity. He turns to look at the house, it's big and white and the windows run from floor to ceiling and Mark can already not wait for morning to come so that he can see the sun rise from the hills in a sea of pink and orange.
Once inside, he picks the room that looks out over the cobalt ocean from one side and over the rolling hills on the other. There isn't much to see now that it's so dark outside, but Mark intends on waking up early in the morning, right before sunrise, to explore the dew-covered meadows and the sleeping towns. He puts his suitcase down on the bed closest to the wall and crawls in the one next to the big window, falls asleep the second his head meets the pillow.
---
Mark wakes up around noon (so far his resolution) and rubs the remains of sleep from his tired eyes. He goes downstairs to find his parents sitting around the breakfast table, fully dressed, looking like they've been up for hours. "We've gone into town to get groceries," his father tells him, handing him a cup of coffee. "We're going to go exploring later so get dressed after breakfast." Mark nods lazily, drinks his coffee and rests his head on his arms. Summers are for lazing around, he thinks, he can always go exploring by himself on another morning.
He gets dressed and doesn't forget to bring a jacket (his short sleeved yellow shirt is not going to keep the wind from running its fingers all over his skin). On the way to the town, he spots several souvenir shops he'd like to look at and places he thinks he'd hang out at with his friends if he ever brought them here.
They walk through the town for a while, now and then entering antique shops (his father enjoys those a lot) and clothing boutiques. After a couple of hours they sit down in a small café by the seafront, Mark can see the city in the distance, skyscrapers and apartment blocks reminding him of the busy streets back home.
"Mark, honey," His mother speaks up, "I just realised that I forgot to bring toilet paper from the store, will you go get some?" She hands him a 5,000 won bill, doesn't give him a chance at refusing anyway, "You can bring something for yourself too, if you'd like." He nods and gets up from his seat, gulps down the rest of his iced americano resulting in a brain freeze. "I'll go straight to the home after," he says, "so you don't have to wait for me here."
He walks to the local grocery store down the street, greeting every friendly passer-by on his way. There aren't a lot of tourists in this small part of town, so all the locals eye him curiously as he continues his way. The sun is starting to set when Mark enters the store, bell chiming loudly in the evening breeze, the whitened walls colour a soft golden in the dying light and Mark feels the last rays of warmth fill him up.
He finds the toilet paper next to the newspapers and he thinks about how unorganised this place is, thinks about how much more he likes it than the neat and ordered cityscape. After picking out a candy bar and some seaweed snacks from the candy isle besides the vegetables, he heads over to the register.
The cashier is a boy who seems to be around his age, dark eyes focused on the comic in his hands, white teeth smacking loudly on the gum in his mouth. Mark clears his throat and the boy looks up, unimpressed and puts his comic aside. "Haven't seen you around here before," he says nonchalantly as he scans Mark's seaweed snacks, his voice is higher than Mark had expected, accent less noticeable than with the other locals Mark's spoken to.
"Uhm yeah, I'm not from around here," Mark retorts, stuffing his items in the plastic bag the boy hands him, "I'm from Seoul."
The boy hums and looks him in the eye, a smirk pulling at the corners of his plump lips, "A city boy," he says, and his tone is neither interested nor dismissive, he just states it a simple fact and Mark nods at him while handing him the money. "I kinda figured from the – you know," the boy trails off and points at his own dark brown hair.
"Oh the hair, yeah" Mark smiles slightly, "My brother dyed it because he recently dyed his hair blond and he thought it would be fun to match, turns out that while he looks like an actual prince with blond hair, I just look like a packet of uncooked ramen." The boy laughs, softly and slightly, "I like it, he says, "I wanted to dye mine purple but it ended up brown." Mark takes a good look at the boy's hair, in the golden light shining through the storefront window it gives off a colour that resembles an overripe plum, according to Mark, he kind of likes it though, hasn't seen that colour a lot before. "It looks good on you, suits your skin colour."
All his items in his bag and change safely in the pocket of his denim shorts, Mark turns to leave the store, glancing at the boy behind the register who has picked up his comic once more. He looks up at Mark and gives him a lazy smile, "See you around, I guess," he says and Mark smiles back at him and sticks up his hand in a goodbye.
---
Two weeks pass by in a flash. Mark spends them with his parents on the hiking trails and the volcano, and alone in the shops by in the town and on the beach. It doesn't take very long for him to realise that spending two months on an island without friends can get quite boring sometimes, so he makes a resolution to find some friends so that he doesn't have to spend the coming seven weeks in the house by himself (and of course his parents are there, but he wants to go lie in the grass and talk to someone, wants to go swim in the ocean at midnight, and he knows his parents love him, but he's also very sure of the fact that they're not up for any of those things.)
He is strolling along the quay by the port, throwing rocks into the water from time to time, watches the ferries come and go. It's afternoon and the sun is beating down on him with a heavy heat, his hair sticks to his forehead and his white shirt clings to his chest with sweat. On hotter days like these in the city, he'd stay inside in the cool flow of air from the air conditioning, watching tv or skyping his cousin in Canada, but here the hotter days are nice because they carry a scent of fish and tangerines all around the island and it doesn't exactly smell nice, but it smells like summer, like holidays and like a certain calm that the city doesn't have, so Mark just lets it fill him up and tries to remember it for when he's back in the busy city, catching too full metro's with snow soaking his shoes.
On the small strip of pebble beach underneath the wooden pier sits a boy, he's poking at something with a stick, his black shorts and tie-dye t-shirt are wet, his black flip-flops worn out, the colour of his hair is one that Mark recognises instantly. It's the boy from the grocery shop.
Mark climbs down the ladder on one of the with algae overgrown pillars and sits down next to the boy. "What are you doing?" He asks and the boy doesn't look up at him, just shrugs and keeps poking at what Mark can now tell is a big blue jellyfish. They sit there in silence for a while until the boy finally leaves the jellyfish be after his stick breaks in half. He looks up at Mark with the sun shining in his eyes, his skin glowing bronze in the late afternoon light. "You want to do something, city boy?" Mark smiles slightly at the nickname, "Sure," he lazily throws back.
The golden boy later introduces himself as Lee Donghyuck, only fun person in the vicinity of his town, Mark tells him that that's probably not true, Lee Donghyuck just smiles at him and tells him you'll see.
---
Donghyuck lives on the other side of the hill of Mark's summer house, in a large light blue house with white shutters in front of the windows and a bunch of weeping willows in the garden. He invites Mark over when it's raining one day, for the first time in weeks. It's still warm outside, so Donghyuck has the incredible idea of biking over to a beach a couple of kilometres farther down the coastline, away from the towns and the people and their prying eyes (No one is out when it rains, Mark tells him but Donghyuck shushes him and how could Mark say no to those sunshine eyes.)
The beach is small and hidden in-between two protruding cliffs, all white sand and black volcanic stone. The cobalt sea contrasts starkly against the grey sky, clouds all swollen with warm heavy rain. They sit down underneath a piece of rock, the sand still dry there, and feel the waves lap around their bare feet.
"I want to swim," Donghyuck announces, and Mark looks at him incredulously, but he also gets it, the humidity is pressing and the cool ocean water feels so pleasant around their naked legs. Donghyuck discards himself of his shirt and Mark tries not to stare but he finds himself strangely attracted to the dark skin of the island boy besides him.
He looks ready to jump into the waves when he turns to Mark with an impatient look, "Are you going to pull off your shirt or are you just going to swim in it?" He asks and Mark wants to open his mouth and tell him that he's not going in but Donghyuck is already pulling him up and onto his feet and opening the buttons of his shirt. "What are you doing, Hyuck?" Mark ask, slightly breathless, slightly unsure. "I'm taking off your shirt?" The other retorts sassily and throws the shirt aside before pushing Mark into the water.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Donghyuck sighs when he emerges his head from the water, his skin glistening as the dull light reflects of off his back, rain beating down on him, "I never want summer to end." Mark looks at him and splashes water into the other boy's face, "Me neither, man, me neither."
(Mark thinks that summer probably doesn't end for Donghyuck anyways, he seems to be made out of it, sun shining through in his golden skin and his honey voice and his mischievous actions.)
---
Mark is playing Mario Kart one night when the doorbell rings. His parents are out in town and his microwave dinner lies forgotten on the kitchen table, he figures it can only be Donghyuck. He's right, of course he is, no one else knows him here anyways.
"Yo, Mork," Dongyuck greets him, kicking his shoes off before plopping down onto the couch, he's wearing tight black jeans and a red t-shirt, Mark finds that red looks incredibly good on Donghyuck (as do those tight jeans, but Mark would rather not think about those.)
Mark goes to sit down next to him, presses their thighs together as he hands the boy a second controller. Donghyuck absolutely destroys him, and Mark gets sick of losing after a while, so he pauses the game (much to the other's dismay) and turns to look him right in the eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asks and the other looks confused for a second before jumping up from the couch and grabbing the plastic bag he brought from the table.
There's this look on Donghyuck's face, one that Mark recognises as the one he wears when he's up to no good. Mark shoots him a wary look, Donghyuck smiles his sunshine smile back at him. "What's in that bag?" The island boy shrugs innocently, but the spark in his dark eyes betrays him. "Lee Donghyuck, give me that." Mark demands, and the other immediately throws him the bag, smirks at Mark's demand.
Inside of it are a six small soju bottles and a box of smoked black pork, Mark gasps, "Where did you get these?" He asks, astonished but unable to hide the smile in his voice. Donghyuck inevitably hears it and pulls Mark up by his hand and pushes him out the door. "Let's just say that I found Taeil's hidden stash," he smiles up at Mark and doesn't release his hand as they start walking down the moonlit street, "Let's go drink these in the tangerine orchard down the hill," he says happily, and Mark gladly consents.
A couple of soju bottles later, Mark and Dongyuck are lying in the soft grass of the orchard, hands intertwined and minds empty. There's only the sounds of the waves against the shore in the distance and the cicadas in the trees, Mark sighs contentedly and squeezes Donghyucks had a bit, the latter turns his head to look at him through half-lidded eyes. "You're really cool," he says, words slurred a bit, "I like you a lot." Mark doesn't know what to think, doesn't know how to think, because the alcohol has made his head all fuzzy, and Donghyuck's warm hand in his has made his stomach all fluttery and he just smiles at the other, "I like you a lot too," he says.
They just stay there for a very long time, talking about whatever comes to mind, until the night gets so cold that even the warm drunk feeling disappears and Mark's grey sweater can no longer keep out the wind's clawing fingers. He looks at Donghyuck's bare arms and runs his own cold hands along them, tries to rub a warmth into them that he doesn't have. "Maybe we should go home," Donghyuck comments, shivering slightly and Mark doesn't want to let go of him just yet.
(He's very aware of the fact that their friendship, or whatever it is they have, is highly unlikely to last past this summer, so he cherishes all the seconds that he has with Donghyuck, to keep his sunshine warmth with him for as long as he possibly can.)
At Mark's front door they bid farewell and Donghyuck turns to walk the way to his own light blue home before Mark pulls him back and ask him to stay the night. "I have two beds in my room anyways," he says, Donghyuck nods and follows Mark inside.
They crawl into their individual beds but somewhere around five, Mark feels his mattress dip with a warm weight and a pair of skinny arms sneak their way around his waist, he smiles to himself and pushes himself against the heat of Donghyuck's chest. The latter tells him he was cold when morning comes, tells Mark to stop feeling flattered, is unable to hide the crimson blush creeping onto his sun-kissed cheeks.
---
The two of them spend a lot of hot days together on the beach and under the shade of the weeping willows in Donghyuck's big garden. They hike the Olle trail and climb a volcano and go snorkling together. One day Donghyuck introduces him to Taeil who asks them where his soju went, so they run, and they don't come back before they see the sun rise from the eastern horizon and set the world on fire.
Donghyuck is cool and smart and witty and Mark's pretty damn sure that summer has never felt this great before, so he doesn't bother thinking about anything but the way Donghyuck smiles and keeps the sun right next to him at all times.
---
When there are only two weeks left, somewhere in the middle of August, Mark wakes up to find Donghyuck at his breakfast table having a chat with Mark's mother about the latest fashion trends in the city. Mark smiles unwillingly, rubs at his eyes when Donghyuck's brightness almost blinds him in the white morning light.
"Good morning honey," his mother says when he sits down and starts spooning rice into his dry mouth. "Yeah, good morning honey," Donghyuck repeats, emphasising the last word. His mother laughs and shakes her head fondly, Mark finds that he's not the only person easily swayed by Donghyuck's undeniable charms.
"We're going on a picnic later," the boy proudly announces and Mark's mother turns to look at him with a knowing look on her face. "A picnic huh?" She says, her voice filled with the smile on her face, "sounds fun." Mark looks up at her and smiles, silently tells her to not embarrass him, she just rolls her eyes playfully and tells them to be back before sundown.
They end up on the beach where they went swimming for the first time (and obviously they've gone swimming loads of times, but this beach is special, because it's their beach, because no one but Donghyuck really comes there at all.) Donghyuck spreads out a blanket on the soft sand, fills it up with all kinds of snacks and drinks. "I brought a bit of everything because I didn't really know what you like," he says sheepishly, and Mark almost melts, half at the sweltering heat, half at how thoughtful Donghyuck is. "It's fine, Hyuck, I like it all," he says, and a wide smile settles over the boy's soft features, lighting him up the way the sun reflects from the waves.
They talk all throughout lunch, about their brothers and about school, about their favourite artists and their plans for the future. Mark tells Donghyuck about the skyscrapers in the city, about the metro's and the neon lights, and Donghyuck tells him he's never been there before. Mark softly suggests he should come and visit sometime in winter, to make snowmen and eat ddeokbokki from the cart by his school. "I'd like that a lot," the boys says, and Mark feels a warmth creep into his skin at the thought of showing Donghyuck around the big city streets.
Mark also shows Donghyuck Frank Ocean's newest album, tells him that it makes him think of easy summer days (doesn't tell him that he likes those the best because they on their turn remind him of Donghyuck himself).
The ocean waves ask if they want to come swim and they gladly do so. Mark races Donghyuck into the warm water and pushes him under when he loses. They keep wrestling until Mark notes that the sun is starting to go down. "Let's dry off on in the sun then," the other says, spreading himself out on the blanket and closing his sunshine eyes, Mark looks at him for a second before doing the same.
He wakes up when the cold ocean water touches his feet and jolts upright. "Hyuck," he whisper-yells, because the latter looks so soft curled up on the blanket like that, and Mark doesn't want to wake him up from his peaceful state (Donghyuck is a handful when he's not sleeping, Mark kind of loves it though). Donghyuck opens an eye and looks up at Mark, "What's wrong" he asks, voice soft from sleep. "We fell asleep, I had to be home hours ago, my mum's going to kill me," he panics, and Donghyuck starts laughing. "You're cute when you're worried," he tells Mark, and then adds, "Relax hot-stuff, we can explain, she'll understand," he takes Mark's hand in his and whispers in his ear, "She can't resist my cuteness anyways," and pulls away to puff out his cheeks. Mark feels at ease again, Donghyuck always makes him feel at ease.
They stand up and tie the blanket to the back of Donghyuck's bike, don't say anything for a while. "You know I really had fun today," Mark tells the other and squeezes his hands softly, "Thanks for this." Donghyuck smiles at him and the sunshine spark in his eyes lights up the night sky, "I had fun too, I'm glad you liked it," then he looks down," This is so cheesy goddamn, Mark, you're turning me into a sap."
The monotonous sound of waves crashing and wind howling fill Mark's head as he takes in the moment, Donghyuck is standing there, holding his hands, beaming smile brighter than ever and Mark just wants to kiss him until he dies (Mark figures he's always wanted to kiss Donghyuck, finally figure out what summer tastes like). So that's exactly what he does.
And the island boy seems taken aback by Mark's action but melts into him after a couple of seconds, reaches his hands to thread them through Mark's salty seahair. Donghyuck's lips are as soft as the sounds all around them and Mark never wants to lose him, never wants to let go of Donghyuck's slim waist, and Donghyuck's warmth.
They break apart with heavy breaths and then Donghyuck starts laughing, "I didn't think you were actually going to do it, Mark Lee," he says, "I had imagined you as much more of a pussy." And Mark scoffs and hits Donghyuck's bare chest and kisses him again (and again, because he's already late anyway, and the moment is just too good to give up on).
---
Mark leaves on the last day of August and he wakes up with the sun high in the sky and the sun right beside him in bed. His packed suitcase sits on the bed that he views as Donghyuck's (even though Donghyuck always ends up in his bed anyways) and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat.
"Morning," the island boy tells him when he opens his soft eyes, and he rakes his fingers through Mark's hair again, presses small kisses to the elder's jaw. "I leave today," Mark says and Donghyuck nods, finds his soft hand underneath the white sheets and holds it tightly, "I know," he sighs, "I'm going to miss the hell out of you."
They stroll through the town for one final time, drink milkshakes on the quay as they wait for Mark's parents and the ferry. Donghyuck holds Mark's hand and kisses Mark's lips, and Mark is afraid that Donghyuck's going to cry when he leaves (He's also afraid that he's going to cry, but he already knows he's going to, so he tries to hold it on for as long as he manages.)
"I think I love you," Donghyuck suddenly says, in-between a palm tree and a souvenir shop and Mark loses his breath for a second, feels the warmth of Donghyuck's hands spread to every fibre of his being. "I love you too, you idiot," he laughs, and kisses the other's lips that taste like banana ice cream.
When the ferry is being loaded, Mark hugs Donghyuck like he's never going to see him again, loves him so hard that the tears won't stop coming. The other makes him promise that he'll call the second he arrives home, Mark nods and smiles through the tears, the salt taste reminding him of Donghyuck's lips after they've spent a day in the ocean.
Mark stands on the deck and looks down at the quay, Donghyuck is the only one standing there, in his denim shorts and his bright orange t-shirt, tattered flip-flops beside him on the stone floor. He's waving his arms and yelling loudly, Mark can barely make out the words before the wind takes them away again, "I'll see you in the snow," Mark thinks he can see the tears running down his sun-kissed cheeks, "I'll miss you, city boy!"
Mark keeps looking at Donghyuck until he's nothing but a bright orange whisp in the midday heat, turns to look at the reflection of the sun in the water. He tries to imagine Donghyuck in the Seoul snow, thinks it might melt underneath his sunshine gaze the way he's melted Mark's entire being. He can't wait for winter to come for once.