Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started with a seemingly innocuous conversation, late Saturday morning.

“Duckie! Just the boy I needed to see. I need your help.”

Donghyuck sighed, resigned. He suppposed his hopes of just creeping in and out of the kitchen without having to undergo unnecessary interaction with the parents had been unrealistic. His father was grinning up at him from the kitchen table, a tablet in one hand and a half-eaten croissant in the other.

Donghyuck walked over to him.

“What’s up, dad?”

“Take a look at this, will you?” his father tilted the tablet screen in his direction.

Donghyuck hadn’t known what he’d expected-- maybe another news article about the progress being made on bringing back honeybees. For some reason, his father got a real kick out of those.

Instead, it looked like his father was looking through some online yearbook. There were rows and rows of headshot pictures of boys and girls who looked to be about Donghyuck’s age, give or take a few years. They all had on the same starched white uniforms and the same blank expression. Maybe the looks on all their faces-- or the lack thereof-- was what Donghyuck’s father had wanted him to see.

“Creepy,” Donghyuck said, with an exaggerated shiver for effect.

Donghyuck’s father frowned down at the yearbook page, at the vague faces looking back at him, “Hm. I suppose they are, a bit.”

“Is that all you wanted me to see? ‘Cause, like, I told my friends I’d be at the mall before noon.”

Without waiting for an answer, Donghyuck started backing away. Instead of making himself a bagel like he’d planned, he’d grab one of those croissants for the road, to make up for lost time.

“Bup-bup-bup, kiddo! I just need your input on one quick thing. Then, you can scram.”

Impatiently, Donghyuck took the tablet as his father proffered it. He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, glancing down at the blank-faced boys and girls on the screen.

“Tell me,” his father said, “which one of these faces you think you’d never get sick of seeing.”

“That’s a weird question,” Donghyuck said, even as he looked down at the rows of pictures and started sorting through them. He could immediately dismiss a few right off the bat.

That boy’s blank expression came off cold, sinister. That girl towered over everyone else, even when framed the exact same way. Donghyuck wouldn’t want a crook in his neck from looking up at someone like that. That girl had beautifully, perfectly spiraled curls which had probably taken hours to perfect. Donghyuck wasn’t sure about her either.

“Indulge me,” Donghyuck’s father’s voice was elevated, lifted by restrained laughter.

Frowning, and worried that his friends would become impatient if he kept them waiting (again, for the third week in a row), Donghyuck picked one almost at random. Jabbing his finger at the boy who at least wasn’t part of the group Donghyuck had eliminated, Donghyuck said,

“This guy.”

Donghyuck’s father took the tablet from him and clicked on the headshot, blowing it up. The boy’s picture overtook half the screen. Donghyuck was struck by his eyes-- bright, and wide. He hadn’t noticed them before, when the picture had been scarcely bigger than a bottlecap.

The boy had black hair, cropped short-- a minimal style. But his subtle hair only served to further accentuate what seemed to be an inherent attractiveness in his features, the open expression created by his large eyes and his curved brows. He also had sharp cheekbones, and a defined jawline. Donghyuck was disappointed in himself, in his choice-- this boy was exactly the sort he’d have an ill-fated crush on. It’d be one of those that would last a semester of pining and staring from afar only to be forgotten when they changed classes.

“Definitely better than Jenson’s rustbucket,” Donghyuck’s father muttered, under his breath, drawing Donghyuck out of his imagined crush on this strange boy he didn’t even know.

“Huh?”

Donghyuck’s father cleared his throat, “I mean. What about it’s-- his hair? Do you think he’d look better with something understated like this, or something more flashy?”
Donghyuck looked at his father with raised brows. His father was generally accepting of the fact that Donghyuck liked boys, had been ever since Donghyuck came home from kindergarten gushing about Jeno and how cool he was and how nice he was. But his father had never initiated conversations about boys with him before.

Is that what they were doing now, talking about boys? It’d explain why his father was acting so strange-- Donghyuck considered the possibility that he was simply unsure of what to say, and how to say it.

Donghyuck looked back down at the boy’s picture. If his father was making a sincere effort to try and talk about boys with him, no matter how strange his approach, he’d try to extend the same courtesy.

“I think the black hair suits him. He looks… down-to-earth.”

Donghyuck’s father clicked his tongue, “But-- c’mon, Duckie, I could see him in blue. Or-- oh! a dark red.”

Maybe Donghyuck’s father wasn’t trying to talk boys with him after all. Maybe his midlife crisis was going to involve dying his hair, and he just looking through the pictures for inspiration. Donghyuck gave up.

“Maybe brown or a light brown would suit him too?”

“Oh! Like blond? Platinum blond?” Donghyuck’s father’s eyes lit up as he looked down at the poor boy, probably envisioning this random stranger with a blond head of hair.

“No! Jesus, Dad. Regular brown. You’re acting so weird ,” Donghyuck whined.

Mercifully, Jaemin chose that precise moment to text Donghyuck. Never had he been so relieved to be pestered about running late.

“Okay, I really gotta go. The guys are gonna be pissed if I’m late. Again.”

“Language,” Donghyuck’s father said, absentmindedly. Donghyuck could see him typing something in on the tablet. He thought it best not to dwell on his father’s eccentricities or to ask questions.

“The guys are gonna be extremely bothered if I’m late again,” he corrected himself, half-jogging towards the door. He snatched a croissant on his way out, “Adios, dad!”

“Bye, Duckie! Thank you-- you’ve been a big help!”

Donghyuck didn’t see how he could have been. He stuck the croissant in his mouth as he jumped into his car and turned on the radio. By the time he’d gotten to the mall, he’d already pushed the strange conversation with his dad to the back of his mind, putting it down to just another one of his family’s quirks that would never be explained.

The conversation lay, all but forgotten, in the part of his mind that was slightly hazy, not easy to dredge up. It rested in between dates he’d had to memorize for history and phone numbers for everyone but Domino’s.

Then, five days later, Donghyuck walked into the kitchen for an after school snack and was promptly forced to recall the conversation in its entirety. Because the boy-- the strange boy he’d never met before, the one with the wide eyes and the swooped eyebrows-- was standing in his kitchen, scrubbing a pan intently at the sink. His hair, Donghyuck noted, was light brown.

“What the fuck?” Donghyuck uttered, drawing the boy’s attention to him. Because-- what the fuck? What was the boy doing here, in his kitchen? Did his dad have anything to do with this? Should he call the police and report the boy as an intruder?

He was already reaching for his phone when the boy spoke, making him freeze in his tracks.

“Hello-- are you Donghyuck?”

His voice was perfectly free of any and all intonations. He looked blankly at Donghyuck. It was eery. Though his features made him look friendly, his mouth formed a perfectly straight line-- no trace of a smile. But despite his weird facial expressions, Donghyuck regretted to realize, the boy was even cuter in person.

“U-uh, yeah, I am. Who are you?” Donghyuck said, making the accusation clear in his tone. Cute or not, this boy was an intruder. Though, upon second thought, washing dirty pans didn’t seem to be a intruder-like thing to do.

The boy reached forward to shut off the faucet. Drying his hands with one of Donghyuck’s family’s towels, he walked forward, closer to Donghyuck. Donghyuck stood his ground, as much as he wanted to back away from the stranger.

“I don’t have a name yet, not a given one.” Again, the boy spoke without any intonation, any feeling coloring his words. It was starting to creep Donghyuck out.

“What do you mean you don’t have a name? Everyone’s got a name.”

As sincere as the boy’s features looked, they had to be misleading. He had to be playing a trick on Donghyuck. Though why this perfect stranger would be pranking Donghyuck was beyond him. Maybe his father had put him up to it.

The boy cocked his head as he stared at Donghyuck. His gaze felt a touch too intense, and Donghyuck took care not to shiver under it. For the first time, Donghyuck thought he saw something on the boy’s face. Some hint of an expression marring the perfectly blank slate he’d maintained until that moment. It was confusion, maybe. Or maybe it was just the light playing tricks on him.

“My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three. I suppose that could be my name.”

Donghyuck stared back at the boy, aghast. As much as the boy’s words seemed to be some sort of prank, his face was perfectly straight. He didn’t seem to be joking at all. Either he was a perfect actor, or he was telling Donghyuck the truth.

“Well, that’s a mouthful,” Donghyuck said, eventually. Something wasn’t sitting right with him, this whole interaction. This boy. Something was off about him-- he was so blank . “How about I call you Mark?”

The boy closed his eyes, suddenly. Just shut them, his head still cocked. When he opened them, for one brief moment, they looked as though they belonged not to a boy but to some nocturnal creature. His pupils flashed opalescent, shining and reflective. Then, the boy blinked, and his eyes were normal again. Back to wide and dark, as if they’d never been anything else. As if Donghyuck just imagined the whole thing.

“Mark,” the boy said, “My name is Mark.”

“Dude, you’re so fucking weird,” and yet, despite himself, Donghyuck couldn’t help but be intrigued.

The boy-- Mark, Donghyuck supposed he ought to think of him-- continued to stare expressionlessly at Donghyuck, “Have I exhibited abnormal behavior?”

“Have you-- yes, man. You have.”

Donghyuck was about to list all the strange things Mark had said and all the strange things he’d done in the space of just the few minutes Donghyuck had known him-- starting with the fact that he was a perfect stranger washing dishes in Donghyuck’s kitchen. Then, the door that led out to the garage opened, cutting him off before he’d begun. Donghyuck’s mother called out,

“Sweetie, are you home? Can you help me with the groceries?”

Donghyuck frowned. He’d have to hold off on informing Mark precisely how weird he was for another time.

“Sure thing, ma!” he shouted back.

“Thanks, sweetie! And bring that ‘bot with you, okay?” his mother walked into the kitchen, laden with grocery bags. She nodded at Mark, “Your father said it’s supposed to be programmed to help with household chores.”

‘Bot? Donghyuck looked to Mark, only to find that Mark was already walking away, towards the garage door. His mother had referred to Mark as a robot. With dawning horror, all of the strange behaviors Donghyuck had just witnessed started to make sense: Mark’s picture being in an online yearbook (a catalogue, Donghyuck realized), Mark not showing any emotions, Mark not even having a name.

Donghyuck could’ve kicked himself. Mark was an android. Mark was his family’s android. Donghyuck hurried after him-- it-- he couldn’t keep the pronouns straight. His head was starting to hurt.

“You’re an android?” he asked, when he caught up to Mark. Mark passed him a bag of groceries from the trunk of Donghyuck’s mom’s car.

“Yes. I assumed you knew already. Sorry if I misled you in any way,” his voice, emotionless as ever, was another piece of the puzzle that slotted into place. His face, expressionless to the point of Donghyuck’s discomfit, another puzzle piece that’d found its spot. Donghyuck shook his head. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’d found a robot attractive. Shit, if his friends found out, he’d never live it down.

“You didn’t. I really shoulda been able to tell sooner, what with your ‘I-do-not-have-a-name’ shit,” Donghyuck made stiff robot arms as best he could while weighed down on both sides with bags.

Mark opened the door for Donghyuck to go through, “I don’t remember moving my arms in that way.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you did,” Donghyuck persisted, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter.

“I have infallible memory recall,” Mark said, and something in his voice sounded almost… different. Donghyuck turned to him, and saw Mark’s eyes looked even wider as he stared at Donghyuck.

“Well,” Donghyuck wanted to see if he could push the android further. He wanted to make him sound more confused. Because, he’d realized, that was the deviant note in Mark’s voice-- confusion. He was sure of it. Donghyuck repeated the arm motion.

“You did. Beep boop.”

“I didn’t, though,” the grocery bags in Mark’s hands were forgotten, as he looked on at Donghyuck with something on his face that was almost akin to consternation.

“Donghyuck, sweetie, are you arguing with the robot?”

Donghyuck hadn’t even noticed his mother was still in the kitchen. His cheeks heated immediately as he turned to face her.

“No, ma. Of course not.”

She looked at him, utterly bemused, “Good. Because that would be a little crazy, even for you, dear.”

“Remember when androids used to look like halloween masks pulled over a head shaped metal ball?”

Donghyuck was getting help from his mother in writing an essay for English and was just about to throw in the towel and call it quits. While he was with her downstairs, it seemed Donghyuck was stuck listening to his father enthuse about Mark every couple minutes.

Donghyuck’s mother hummed in vague agreement with her husband. To Donghyuck, she said, “Your argument will be stronger if you cut off the last two sentences in your introduction paragraph.”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck deleted them.

“No, really. It looks just like a real boy. Like-- it could be just another one of Duckie’s friends. Put it in some of those flashy pants, and it’d fit right in at the mall.”

Donghyuck looked up from his laptop to see how Mark was enduring his father’s enthusiastic rant. He was enduring it expressionlessly, face blank and hands crossed behind his back. Of course, what had Donghyuck expected?

“Jenson’s ‘bot definitely looked a little… off, you know? Now, this guy--” Donghyuck’s father prodded Mark’s cheek. Donghyuck straightened, wondering how Mark would react to being touched. But Mark didn’t react. Donghyuck slumped back over his laptop again, “--this guy’s the real deal. Its skin even feels real.”

“His name is Mark,” Donghyuck called out, half his focus on whatever his father was saying, half of it still on his essay.

“What’d you say, Duckie?”

Donghyuck looked up to find his father looking at him. Alarmingly, Mark had also turned to look at him. Mark hadn’t even flinched when Donghyuck’s father had poked him in the face, but he’d looked at Donghyuck only after Donghyuck had spoken a few words.

“I--,” Donghyuck cast his eyes away, to his mother. She was looking at him too, eyes narrowed, as if calculating something. He didn’t know why what he’d said had been so contentious. “I’ve been calling him Mark.”

Donghyuck’s father raised his eyebrows and stuck his hands on his hips, “Hmph. Is that so?”

Donghyuck suddenly felt small, under his father and mother’s eyes. It seemed a little childish, to name an android. Like naming a toy, a pet rock, or something. But Mark looked human, even if he didn’t feel things like a person did. It felt equally wrong not to give him a name.

“Yeah, and he seemed okay with it,” Donghyuck trailed off, looking to Mark for confirmation. Mark nodded, and Donghyuck went on, feeling braver with Mark backing him up. “So. I dunno. Maybe you could call him that too?”

Donghyuck could practically feel his mother’s appraising eyes on him, a prickling sensation.

Donghyuck’s father nodded, expression shifting in an instant back to his normal, easygoing face. He clapped his hand on Mark’s shoulder “Alrighty then! Mark it is.”

Robots had it too easy, Donghyuck decided. It was six in the morning, and he was stuck just going through the motions. He was downing a bowl of cereal mechanically as if he were the real robot, but Mark looked just as good as he had the day before. It was frustrating, too see him looking that good while Donghyuck still felt half asleep.

“Do you want me to drive you to school, Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck, of course, was not far enough removed from slumber to form a proper response.

“You… drive?”

“Of course. I’m capable of performing all tasks necessary to complete household chores.”

Donghyuck was thankful, in that moment, that androids didn’t feel emotions. Because he was pretty sure that, if they could, Mark would be feeling nothing but judgement towards Donghyuck for not knowing something that was probably basic android information.

“O-oh. Uh--,” Donghyuck weighed the pros and cons of letting Mark drive him to school.

On one hand-- he’d get to spend more time with the android. Maybe he could push him further, bring back that strange opalescent glint in his eye, the one he still wasn’t sure hadn’t just been a figment of his imagination.

On the other hand-- he’d be spending more time with Mark. And the more time Donghyuck spent with Mark, the harder it was to deny to himself that he may have possibly developed a small crush on the robot.

“You’ll be able to get in an extra half hour of sleep if I drive you,” Mark added, before Donghyuck could decide.

He grinned, his internal deliberation over. Dropping his spoon into his bowl of cereal, Donghyuck stood up, “Well, I’m sold, then. Let’s go-- let’s get it!”

“What are we getting?”

“What-- No, Mark,” Donghyuck laughed at Mark’s puzzlement, “It’s an expression. We’re not, like, getting anything in specific. It’s just-- let’s get it! woo!”

“Oh. I see.” Mark said, as if he understood. But Donghyuck guessed that whatever computer processing was going on within him wasn’t working, going by the crease that had formed between his brows as they knitted together.

Donghyuck felt his lips curling into a smile, just at the sight of that small dimple on Mark’s forehead. It was like a crack, a visible sign that there lay something beyond Mark’s blank exterior, and that Donghyuck was breaking through to it.

“You’ll never guess what Jaemin heard from Mina,” Chenle didn’t even bother to say hello before starting in on his lunchtime gossip.

Donghyuck said nothing, too invested in his lunch. Mark’s capabilities extended to preparing lunch, too. He’d made something simple today-- just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some pretzels, and an apple. But in the car he’d assured Donghyuck that he had a menu of over a four hundred dishes he could prepare.

“Hey,” Chenle batted Donghyuck’s shoulder, “c’mon. Guess.”

Donghyuck set his sandwich down carefully on the parchment paper Mark had wrapped it in that morning.

“I dunno. What’d Jaemin hear from Mina?”

Chenle smiled, wickedly, “You were spotted this morning, Hyuck. Caught with your college boyfriend.”

Donghyuck didn’t know what he was referring to, for a moment. He thought he’d knew if he got a college boyfriend, all of a sudden. Then, it hit him. Mark had driven him to school. It must’ve looked like Mark was--

“Oh, dude, no,” Donghyuck made a face.

He had to pretend like he wouldn’t be daydreaming about an alternate universe where Mark was just a normal guy and not a blank-faced robot later. Where Mark really was just a university student, driving his high school boyfriend to school in the morning after a night spent together, watching ancient animated movies like Up or WALL-E.

“That was my dad’s midlife crisis,” Donghyuck explained, prompting Jisung to spray chocolate milk out of his nose. Chenle eyed him with distaste, but leaned forward to dab the spilled milk off of him with his napkin.

“Whad do you meab?” Jisung asked, his voice distorted with Chenle pressing a napkin to his face.

“You know how some guys buy sports cars in their forties? Or, like, get a girlfriend half their age?” Chenle and Jisung nodded quickly, impatient. Donghyuck grinned, “My dad went and got himself a robot.”

“Your dad got a robot?” Jeno had finally fought his way from the lunchline. He was gaping widely at Donghyuck, “Aren’t those like-- college tuition-level expensive?”

Jaemin and Renjun were trailing at his heel. Renjun took his spot next to Jaemin, his eyes glinting like they always did when he was up to something.

“Can we see it?”

Chenle and Jisung followed Donghyuck to meet Mark in the student lot after school. Both younger boys sent texts off to their parents that they didn’t need to be picked up. They had a robot chauffeur to drive them that day.

“So, what should we expect?” Chenle asked. He wasn’t that short, but he still needed to take about two steps for Jisung’s every one. His backpack was bouncing up and down on his back as they walked.

“Yeah. Is it like… the Terminator? Or more like that fluffy robot from Big Hero Six?” Jisung gestured outward, forming Baymax’s belly with his hands.

Donghyuck laughed, “He’s like… a normal dude, guys. Kinda doesn’t get slang at all, and humor goes over his head, but just treat him like you’d treat any other twenty year old.”

Chenle snorted and bumped into Jisung, looking up at him, “More like Hyuck’s humor goes over its head.”

“Hey!”

Donghyuck reached back to hit the two behind him, though his weak threats of violence did nothing to quiet their giggling.

“These two are gonna be joining us today,”

Hyuck jabbed a thumb back at Chenle and Jisung. Mark looked at them, then nodded at Hyuck, expressionless at the unexpected addition of two new companions. Donghyuck suppressed a sigh.  

Chenle slid in first, taking the seat behind Mark. “Whoa-- why’d they make it so cute?”

Mark’s grip tightened on the wheel-- just enough to make his knuckles stand out. Donghyuck was surprised to see that, when his synthetic skin stretched thin, his knuckles went pale, as if he had bones and ligaments underneath. But Donghyuck had looked at the online catalogue the night before, and he knew that was just an illusion. Underneath Mark’s synthetic skin, he only had a skeleton of plastic and wire.

Donghyuck swallowed, then swiveled to glare at Chenle.

“He can hear you.” he hissed.

“That’s alright,” Mark spoke, drawing Donghyuck’s attention from a wide-eyed Chenle. Mark looked in the rearview mirror, pointing his gaze right at Chenle, “I was designed to perfectly integrate with people. This face helps me do that.”

Understanding dawned on Chenle’s face. He lifting his eyebrows in amazement.

“Ahh. So, like... because people automatically like pretty people better... they made you pretty?” Chenle asked, leaning over into the middle of the backseat.

Donghyuck’s eyes went back to Mark’s hands on the steering wheel, watching his knuckles for any giveaway of rising tension. But Mark’s hold on the wheel actually relaxed, loosening out of his white-knuckled grip.

“I guess that’s one way you could phrase it.”

“You think the ‘bot’s pretty?” Jisung asked. His voice was quiet enough that Donghyuck figured it was a question meant for Chenle’s ears alone.

“I mean. Kinda, yeah,” Chenle replied, just as quietly.

Donghyuck reached forward to turn on the radio, quickly busying himself with scrolling through the car’s interface to find the perfect playlist. He didn’t want to intrude on whatever conversation was going on backseat.

“Mark, what kinda music are you into?”

“Music… I…” Mark took advantage of a redlight to turn to look at Donghyuck. His eyes were wide and helpless. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck laughed as he landed on a playlist from the late 2010s. Donghyuck smiled. He was feeling like going for throwbacks. He wondered if Mark had musical preferences, at all. If that was the kind of thing they programmed into androids.

“That’s cool. I kinda figured. But this means I get to expose you to the best stuff first! You’re so lucky you ended up as my android.”

“Yes, I agree,” Mark’s words were almost lost as the music started up-- the high tones of Ariana Grande unmistakable. Donghyuck grinned-- he knew all the words to this one.

“Huh, sorry, what? I missed that,” Donghyuck prompted, upon picking up the thread of conversation once more. He mouthed along to the song, rapping the beat on the dashboard.

“I agree. I’m lucky that I ended up with you and your family,” Mark didn’t even pause speaking as he took an unavoidable sharp turn that Donghyuck had always had to be sure to take at about five miles an hour to make sure he didn’t crash. Mark continued speaking, without hesitation. “You’re all kind to me, though you don’t have to be.”

Donghyuck’s hands stilled as he lost the song’s beat. He looked behind him. Chenle and Jisung were still lost in their own world, laughing at something on Jisung’s phone.

“We’re just being decent,” he said, eventually. Because they were. He knew there were people out there who didn’t treat their androids right. People that acted like their robots not having emotions was any excuse to beat them or abuse them or overwork them.

Mark hummed, “Thank you, for being decent.”

Donghyuck didn’t deal well with sincerity. Sarcasm was where he was most comfortable, his natural state of being. Biting humor, he could do. But Mark’s completely open, completely unmotivated sincerity was utterly alien to him. Donghyuck wasn’t used to it, had never seen anything like it. He felt his cheeks heating for some reason, felt the blush spreading across his face like wildfire.

“This music is pleasant. Its tones seem to elevate me, though we actually haven’t increased our altitude.”

Mark wasn’t as hung up on his own sincerity. It was just the way he was-- No, it was the way he was programmed, Donghyuck had to remind himself. Donghyuck checked the car’s display. Bazzi.

“You like R&B?”

They weren’t even at a red light, but Mark’s eyes still flicked to the side to meet Donghyuck’s, “I guess I do.”

Donghyuck almost felt bad for their neighbors when all the guys came out to his house. Renjun’s Mazda fit just fine in his driveway, but Jeno’s SUV and Jaemin’s Jeep took up a sizable portion of the street outside.

“Yo, Hyuck!” Jaemin shouted from his Jeep, “Can I use your charger? My car’s almost out of juice.”

Donghyuck gave him the thumbs up. Mark stayed outside to help Jaemin while Donghyuck took the rest of the guys inside to raid the kitchen.

“Mark can cook literally anything we ask him to,” Donghyuck said, as he stood on his tip toes to reach the popcorn.

“So why are we just eating the same thing we always do?” Renjun sounded amused.

“Here, let me help with that.”

Jeno reached forward to get the popcorn bags for Donghyuck. He handed them over to Donghyuck, smiling. And Donghyuck smiled back. Even just a couple years ago, he’d probably be freaking out internally at Jeno’s closeness, probably too nervous to smile back.

“Thanks, man,” Donghyuck said, unwrapping a bag and sticking it in the microwave.

“I like Mark,” Chenle spoke, out of nowhere, “He’s cute, he’s funny even if he’s not really trying to be. Oh! And he makes Hyuck blush. That’s hilarious. ”

“What the fuck? No, he doesn’t,” Donghyuck crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter, popcorn popping at his back.

“We both saw it, in the car. You weren’t exactly being subtle,” Jisung backed Chenle up. But he looked nervous about it. He was wringing his hands.

Donghyuck held his tongue, as tempted as he was to point out their hypocrisy. The two of them hadn’t looked like they’d cared much for subtlety in the car, either.

“Whatever. The... A/C wasn’t working well. I was getting overheated.”

Donghyuck thanked whatever deities were out there that the microwave beeped at that moment, saving him from facing four disbelieving pairs of eyes. Well, three. He was sure Jeno would be kind enough to buy his excuse.

“Do I need to fix the car’s air conditioning?”

Donghyuck jumped, as he was pouring the popcorn out. He hadn’t heard Mark and Jaemin enter. He wondered how long they’d been there, how much they’d overheard. He looked up at them, trying to gauge from their reactions. But Jaemin only looked as amused as he always did. And Mark.. well. Donghyuck frowned.

Donghyuck was working on that, both at reading Mark’s expressions and at making him actually have expressions.

“Nah, Mark. You don’t need to do anything. Hyuck’s just making shit up again.”

Donghyuck tossed a handful of popcorn at Renjun’s face. His heart was still beating too quick at Mark’s sudden appearance, and he didn’t feel nearly as satisfied as he would have normally when a kernel bounced off of Renjun’s smug grin.

Popcorn in hand and cute android in tow, they went up to Donghyuck’s room. While the guys debated what movie to watch, Donghyuck unearthed the projector attachment for his phone he’d gotten for his eighteenth birthday.

“Hold up. Why don’t we ask Mark what he wants to watch?”

Donghyuck’s eyes snapped up from where he’d been fiddling with the projector. Renjun was smiling magnanimously at Mark, gesturing to him. Donghyuck frowned. Renjun never gave in to someone else’s tastes that easily. He must’ve been playing at something.

Mark looked down, his lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. Then, he looked up to Renjun, face expressionless as ever.

“The most popular movie release this year among your demographic is Avengers Thirteen. It has a ninety-seven percent rating on the movie review site Rotten Tomatoes and the words used most frequently by critics to describe it include ‘exciting’ and ‘the best one yet’.”

As Mark recited the knowledge he’d dregged up from whatever database he was hooked into, his intonation remained the same. He’d said ‘exciting’ in a completely apathetic tone.

The guys stared at him, silent, blinking, their arguments from moments ago forgotten. Renjun had his lips pressed tight together as he looked on at Mark in complete fascination. Following several beats of silence, Mark turned. He looked from Renjun to Donghyuck.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked-- directed at Donghyuck, for some reason.

“N-no,” Donghyuck stuttered, wondering if Mark was asking him for reassurance, “Avengers Thirteen sounds great. I missed it in theaters. I’d be down to watch it now.”

It was easy to forget, just by looking at him, that Mark was a robot. The designers who’d worked on him must have spent hours meticulously crafting his every small detail. Then, Mark had to open his mouth and reminded you, just when you started to get carried away.

Mark nodded almost hesitantly back at Donghyuck, and cast his gaze downwards again. Donghyuck cleared his throat, looked on the rest of the guys with warning clear in his eyes.

“Is Avengers Thirteen cool with the rest of you?”

Jeno nodded, Chenle and Jisung followed with twin agreements right after.

Renjun looked from Donghyuck to Mark and back again before smiling and saying, “If it’s what Mark wants to watch, I want to see it too.”

Upon hearing Renjun’s words, Donghyuck felt something sharp lodge itself in his chest, right next to his heart. He tried not to let his inexplicable discomfort show as he turned away from Renjun to face Jaemin.

For the first time, Jaemin was lacking his amused grin. His lip was curled with distaste. His eyes snapped from where they’d been resting on Renjun to Donghyuck.

“Whatever,” Jaemin said sullenly, as he brought up his knees to his chest and folded his arms around them, “I’ve heard it’s overrated.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out for ourselves if that’s true,” Donghyuck said, injecting false cheer into his voice.

He didn’t want Mark’s gaze to be permanently directed towards the ground the rest of the night. For some reason, even though Mark had no feelings to hurt, Donghyuck had an odd inkling that the only way to keep Mark’s eyes bright would be to take his suggestion.

Chapter Text

When Donghyuck rushed into the kitchen late the next morning, he found that nearly every inch of available counterspace was occupied. Half was filled with plates of what looked to be various types of egg dishes, the other half in cartons of eggs or chopping boards with various produce items.

Donghyuck’s father was hovering around Mark as the robot swirled a pan around at the stovetop.

“Dad, what-- what’s going on here?”

Donghyuck had just wanted to grab a piece of toast and get on the road. He wasn’t even sure where to find the bread in this mess. It was probably buried under a carton of eggs somewhere.

Donghyuck’s father looked up excitedly from where he’d been watching Mark work.

“Mark’s showing me every kind of omelette he knows how to make. So far he’s done three American styles-- spinach and mushroom, bacon and cheddar, and original-- two French-- oh my God, remind me to ask your mother to pick up more butter from the store-- a Spanish-style one. Now he’s showing me Japanese!”

Donghyuck’s father ticked off each type on his fingers as he named them off. Donghyuck looked around at all the dishes on all the countertops, amazed that every single one was only just a variation of one basic dish.

“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little? There’s no way you can eat all of these.”

As he watched, Mark slid a yellow mass from the pan he was holding onto a dome of rice on a plate. The yellow mass wiggled and jiggled atop the rice, and Mark sprinkled a pinch of chopped green herbs atop it.

When Mark had finished garnishing the Japanese version, he looked to Donghyuck. Donghyuck could swear he saw some strain around his eyes, some tension there that was new.

“I informed your father that the first two omelettes I prepared for him were more than enough for his breakfast.”

“But-- but omelettes, Duckie!”

“But food waste, dad!” Donghyuck mimicked, with a smile. Placating, he pointed out, “You can always ask Mark to make you more tomorrow.”

Donghyuck’s father frowned, as if that was the first he’d heard of that idea. Donghyuck shook his head. He loved his father, but he had to acknowledge that sometimes his father lacked a sense of limitations when he got over excited. Donghyuck resigned himself to having to make a breakfast of food court cinnamon rolls instead of the toast he’d wanted, and started towards the door.

“Do you need me to drive you anywhere, Donghyuck?” Mark asked, as Donghyuck took a step.

Donghyuck stopped and looked at him, curiously. He hadn’t thought Mark was capable of speaking faster than his usual pace. But he was sure he’d heard Mark do just that, just then. Mark had spoken urgently, not in his usual monotone. Donghyuck put it down to his imagination.

“I think I’ll drive myself today. It looks like you’re pretty busy here.”

As much as Donghyuck wanted to seize the opportunity to get Mark alone in the car again, to get the chance to play him music until he admitted to feeling something about it, Mark was about elbow deep in omelette preparation. And, if Mark drove Donghyuck to the mall, there was no reason for him not to stay there with him.

Donghyuck wasn’t sure how he felt about how easily some of his friends had taken to Mark. Or, if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Renjun spending more time with Mark.

“Oh, by the way, I’ll need Mark next Friday. Last night I promised the poker group that they’d get a chance to see my ‘bot during my turn to host” Donghyuck’s father’s voice was muffled through a mouthful of omelette, “The Zhongs were asking about him. Jensen looked so annoyed.”

Donghyuck felt his face heat as he nodded his silent assent. It felt strange, wrong even, to acknowledge his partial ownership of Mark. Suddenly, he found it hard to look at Mark.

“See ya later,” he said, though who it was directed to-- his father, or Mark, he couldn’t say.

“Mmph,” his father grunted, stuffing another bite of omelette into his mouth, as Mark said, “Goodbye, Donghyuck.”

Half an hour later, Donghyuck found himself seated at the mall food court, scarfing down a cinnamon roll as his friends sipped leisurely at their varied coffee-adjacent beverages.

Chenle and Jisung were debating the relative merits of tube socks versus ankle socks. Jeno and Jaemin were recounting the match they’d missed yesterday, going through highlights on their phones. Renjun wasn’t paying attention to either conversation. He was as disengaged as Donghyuck. His eyes tracked a lady walk by their table, an android a half-step behind her, his arms full of shopping bags.

“I wonder what it’s like to kiss a robot,” Renjun said, breaking his silence. His eyes glinted with untold mischief.

Donghyuck felt that sharp thing in his chest shift, like it’d moved even closer to his heart. He feared it was in danger of puncturing it.

“That’s-- what?” Donghyuck laughed, too high pitched to be believable.

“I bet they’re all cold and stiff. It’d probably feel really gross to kiss one,” Jaemin pitched in, his eyes cast down at his drink. He plunged his straw up and down with an almost violent ferocity.

“Well, let’s ask Hyuck,” Renjun said equanimously.

Donghyuck froze as he felt four pairs of eyes on him. Chenle and Jisung’s sock debate had come to an abrupt end. Donghyuck’s discomfort was more entertaining.

“I’ve never kissed Mark,” he said, panicked, blurting out the first words that came to mind, “why would I even-- want to do that? That’s just-- no. That’d be weird.”

“I wasn’t going to ask if you’d kissed him, idiot,” Renjun snickered, “I was just gonna ask if he really is cold. Surely you’ve at least, like, touched him or something.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck felt heat flood his cheeks. He looked down at the table, praying that his bangs concealed enough of his face that Renjun wouldn’t catch his blush.

“No, sorry. I don’t know.”

For the rest of the day, Donghyuck couldn’t get Renjun’s comments out of his mind. When Jeno slung his arm over Donghyuck’s shoulders, he could only imagine how it’d feel if Mark had done it. Would Mark’s arm be heavier, or lighter? Would it be cold enough that Donghyuck could feel a chill through his shirt, or would he be overwarm to the touch, from all the electricity coursing throughout his body?

When Donghyuck extended his hand for a cashier to scan the credit chip in his wrist, her breath hiked before she looked up at him with a shy smile. And he couldn’t help but imagine Mark across from him in her place. Smiling at him, all shy. It seemed impossible, but Donghyuck couldn’t stop thinking on it. He bet Mark’s smile would be the final nail in his coffin. There’d be no backing out from his crush if Donghyuck ever saw it, he was sure.

By the time Donghyuck pulled into the driveway, the sun was already hanging low in the sky. He gazed out of the open garage as he plugged his car in to charge overnight. A few wisps of clouds scuttled by, above the tops of his neighbors towering homes, hazy white spots against a super-saturated rosy sky that faded into red and indigo the further up Donghyuck’s eyes travelled.

Donghyuck wondered if robots ever looked up and noticed the sky, if he’d ever get the chance to ask Mark whether he preferred sunrises or sunsets, if he found either beautiful. Donghyuck’s eyes slid closed. He doubted that robots could ever find things beautiful-- finding beauty in something would require being moved, having feelings.  

“Do you need help with that?”

Donghyuck’s eyes opened. Mark gestured to the cable Donghyuck still held in his hands, poised to plug it into his car’s outlet. Donghyuck shook his head, amazed at how easy he’d been sidetracked.

“How was your outing with your friends?” Mark asked.

“Are you programmed to ask me that?” Donghyuck snorted, walking up to press the button and close the garage door. The door slid down, panel by panel, cutting off the view of the rosy sky beyond.

“Yes,” Mark said, simple and honest, but it still served as a sour reminder of a bitter truth.

“Oh,” Donghyuck said, frowning at himself.

He was being ridiculous-- what was the alternative to Mark being programmed to ask about his day? Mark actually caring? Mark didn’t have feelings, he didn’t have the capacity to care. Donghyuck had to try his best not to forget that.

“I’ve upset you,” Mark walked over to Donghyuck, his movements so smooth and precise. He peered at Donghyuck, intensely, his wide eyes piercing and dark. Donghyuck was sure that Mark could see every detail about him, even in the dim of the sole garage light.

“Nah, you didn’t. My brain’s just being stupid. I keep-- thinking of things, things that don’t matter. Things that’ll never happen. Things that-- God, what am I talking about?” Donghyuck felt a hot lick of shame for rambling. He felt his face heat and he turned, facing away from the light,

“Why am I bothering you with this anyways?” Donghyuck laughed without humor.

Donghyuck sighed. It’d been a long day, between Chenle and Jisung’s inane ongoing debates and Renjun. Renjun had been particularly exhausting, with his comments-- his continued, obvious hints that he wanted nothing more than Mark. And Jaemin was just as blatantly upset about the fact. His regular easygoing attitude was gone, and he’d been quick to snap at anyone and everyone all day. Even Jeno hadn’t been spared his ire.

“Tell me,” Mark’s voice was different from how it had sounded, prior. It was softer, tentative.

“What?” Donghyuck asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Tell me about the things that are bothering you.”

Mark looked so earnest, his brows lifted high beneath his sandy brown bangs, his eyes wide and imploring.

“Why?” Donghyuck couldn’t shake the intruding thought that this might’ve been another programmed response.

“Because...,” Mark paused. It only lasted a split second, but it was long enough not to escape Donghyuck’s notice, “It’ll make you feel better.”

The moment felt fragile. Mark was speaking in a soft voice, hesitantly asking Donghyuck about what was on his mind. But Donghyuck couldn’t tell him the truth-- he couldn’t confess that Mark himself was what was weighing on his thoughts.

“I can’t tell you,” Donghyuck heard the regret in his voice.

“Oh,” the small crease appeared between Mark’s brows. It was picked up in sharp relief in the shadows cast by the small light, “Is it about your friends?”

“Yes!” Donghyuck seized upon the excuse. He tapped the side of his nose and pointed at Mark, “Got it in one!”

“I see,” Mark stared at him with that piercing gaze for a beat longer before he turned away and opened the door for Donghyuck to go through.

“Mm-hm. Me and my friends.. we’re goin’ through some stuff right now,” Donghyuck might’ve been exaggerating, a little. Renjun and Jaemin would get over their new rift easily enough. They always did.

Grateful for the easy out Mark had gifted him, Donghyuck headed through the door and into the kitchen. He was feeling newly enthusiastic to test the limits of Mark’s cooking capabilities, inspired by his father’s morning omelette frenzy.

Mark followed at his heel, keeping a half-step behind. His voice was low enough that Donghyuck nearly missed it when he said.

“I hope, for the sake of your happiness, that you and your friends get over your stuff soon.”

Donghyuck stumbled as he stepped into the kitchen. He waved Mark off when he started hovering over him, already embarrassed at enough as it was without having to accept Mark’s help. Donghyuck hadn’t even tripped over anything-- he’d just been so startled to discover that, apparently, robots could experience things like hope .

✶

Before he went to bed, Donghyuck pulled up an incognito tab on his phone, checking and double checking that his door was locked. He leapt into his bed and pulled his cover up to his chin, then pulled up an incognito tab on his phone and got to typing.

can a robot get feelings?

Donghyuck widened his eyes at the number of results-- over forty seven million. He took a deep breath and clicked on the first link-- a news article about a new study. The scientific jargon went over his head, but the breakdown provided by the author of the article made it seem like scientists had found that, under circumstances of extreme stress, artificially intelligent beings could display symptoms of panic. Even to the point of acting illogically or against their own best interests.

The author added on an additional paragraph, about the protesting the study had inspired. Some group calling themselves the Association for the Ethical Treatment of Synthetic Persons was running a letter campaign to get the researchers blacklisted from future scientific journals.

Donghyuck quickly backed out of the page. He didn’t want to hear any more about the scientists’ experiments on robots. They sounded cruel.

The next news article title caught his eye-- Landmark Android Marriage Case Headed to the Fifth Circuit . “I love her and she loves me. It doesn’t matter if she’s plastic and I’m flesh and bone, our love transcends that. It’s time for the country to legally recognize the legitimacy of our love.”

As he read news article after news article, Donghyuck started to find it hard to breathe. He tugged down his blanket, but it didn’t lessen the suffocating feeling. So, there were robots out there who did feel things-- or, at least, people who were convinced that robots felt things.

He exited out of the incognito window and switched off his phone, placing it facedown on his bedside table. Donghyuck rubbed his eyes. They hurt from staring so intently at his screen. His thoughts drifted, as they always did when he wasn’t being careful, to Mark.

Donghyuck’s robot was just a story below him, somewhere on the ground floor. A minute’s walk away. Donghyuck didn’t know what Mark did at night. He knew robots had to recharge too, in a way. He didn’t know how they did their charging thing. He wasn’t sure whether Mark was laying down on a couch with a blanket and his eyes closed, or whether he was peering, unblinking out into the night. Staring blankly, like a statue, because he didn’t have to put on a front for human eyes.

The thought made Donghyuck shiver, and he pushed it from his mind.

Soon, a fitful sleep overtook him.

Donghyuck woke with a start, in a trance from still being half asleep, he typed out a message on his phone. He had to get it sent out quick, before the memory of his dreams could slip away from him.

to: jeno

i need your help

can we meet up today?

just the two of us

can’t trst the rest of those snakes

“Do you want me to drive you today, Donghyuck?”

Mark was standing at the sink, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The early morning sun cast him in soft yellow light, turning his hair golden. Donghyuck had to squint to look at him. He shook his head and hurried to the door.

“Nope, sorry, Mark! No time to talk. Gotta go. Bye!”

Donghyuck waved. The door closed behind him, and he missed Mark’s answering:

“Oh.”

On a whim, Donghyuck had suggested Jeno meet him at their neighborhood park. They hadn’t been there in awhile. Along with the rest of the guys, they probably hadn’t been there since middle school, at least.

Jeno sat with Donghyuck on a park bench in patient silence, as Donghyuck gathered his words. He tried to think of his foremost trouble, as he watched a troupe of children chase each other around the playground. The park hadn’t changed at all since they were kids.

A little boy tried to traverse the monkey bars and nearly fell by the time he’d reached second rung. Donghyuck felt a spike of panic at seeing the boy’s struggle, only to have it alleviated when an android caretaker surged forward and caught the kid before he could hit the ground.

Donghyuck looked away from the pair, his heartbeat returning to normal. He took a deep breath.

“I had a dream about Mark,” he said.

“Okay,” Jeno easily accepted it, no jokes or jibes, “What happened in your dream?”

Donghyuck cast his eyes down, to his hands, folded in his lap. If he curled his hand into a fist, the skin over his joints stretched tight. His knuckles were lightened, not by plastic, but by the bones and ligaments beneath.

“It doesn’t matter what happened.”

They’d kissed. He and Mark. He’d seen it in his dream like he was watching a movie. He could practically hear the orchestral music playing to a crescendo in the background as their lips met in the haze of dreamworld.

“It’s not ever gonna happen outside of a dream, anyways,” Donghyuck wasn’t bitter about it. He wasn’t. Kissing Mark wasn’t his primary concern.

Donghyuck kicked a stray pebble by his sneaker. It bounced and flew a couple yards, until it hit a larger rock and ricocheted off into the grassline and disappeared amongst the blades.

Jeno hummed. Then, he turned away from the children playing on the playground to face Donghyuck.

“It’s okay if you like the android, you know.”

At Jeno’s words, Donghyuck felt he could breathe easier, as if a weight he hadn’t known he’d been carrying had been lifted off from him.

“Crushes are harmless,” Jeno continued, with a smile, “Just don’t get caught up on whether or not Mark’s gonna like you back, ‘kay?”

That was going to be virtually impossible. Donghyuck frowned, “Okay.”

“Don’t forget that he’s only a robot, after all. He can’t like you back. Not in the same way you like him.”

Donghyuck’s eyes fell from Jeno’s once more, to the tufts of weeds visible through the slats of the bench they were sitting on. That shard in his chest shifted ever closer to his heart, ever more in peril of puncturing it.

“I won’t forget,” Donghyuck promised. Though his voice was hollow, his words were sincere.

“Ah, don’t make that face, Hyuck. I’m not saying anything you didn’t know already.” Jeno was right, of course, but that didn’t soften the blow. Donghyuck nodded.

The bench creaked beneath them as Jeno shifted, stretching his arms out and barely stifling a sigh.

“Speaking of the ‘bot, do you have any idea on what to do about Renjun and Jaemin?”

Mark was nowhere to be found when Donghyuck came back home from hanging out with Jeno. The initial park meetup had turned to a brunch together which had, in turn, stretched into lunchtime. They talked at length about their friends’ ridiculous fight.

Donghyuck had felt guilty. He’d been so caught up on his own feelings about Mark that he hadn’t spared a thought to how Renjun and, by extension, Jaemin were affected by Mark’s sudden appearance. Meanwhile, it’d been all Jeno could worry about. He voiced his concern that this tension between the two of them was looking to become worse even than their disagreement when Jaemin got a girlfriend for a couple weeks in their sophomore year.

“The difference,” Jeno had said, “is that it’s Renjun, this time. Jaemin’s never had to watch Renjun be like this over anyone before. He doesn’t know how to react.”

Donghyuck stomped around the kitchen, denying that his louder steps had anything to do with Mark’s persistent absence. He sighed. If Mark hadn’t heard him drive in, then he wouldn’t have heard Donghyuck being noisy anyways, right? Donghyuck didn’t even have a concrete reason for wanting to see Mark. He’d just... hoped for it.

He trudged up to his room and started in on his homework for the upcoming week, for lack of anything better to do. The guys’ groupchat had been suspiciously quiet since Saturday. Only Jeno and Donghyuck sent any messages in, with Chenle sparsely replying to their texts with reaction pictures.

Donghyuck stared at his calculus assignment until the numbers on the screen blurred before his eyes. It was no use. The only problem he could focus on finding to the solution to wasn’t calculus related at all.

A knock at his door caught Donghyuck in the midst of another tangential thought. He shook his head, checking his screen and finding it’d gone dark in his inactivity on the tablet.

“Come in.”

It was Mark who walked through his door, and Donghyuck hated the answering swooping feeling in his chest upon seeing him. It had just been a day since he’d seen him last, and his body was reacting like it’d been weeks instead. Mark inched into the room, carefully pulling the door shut behind him. He had a plate in his hand, apple slices arrayed in a neat circle atop it.

The lights in Donghyuck’s room must have needed to be replaced, because it looked a little like Mark was concerned. His brows were knitted slightly together and the corners of his mouth were pulled down. Or, at least, that’s how it appeared to look in the poor lighting of Donghyuck’s room.

“You didn’t come down for dinner,” Mark said, and his voice lifted at the end, as if it were a question.

“Oh.”

Donghyuck hadn’t realized. He looked back down at his tablet, remembering the minimal progress he’d made on his homework, and frowned.

“I brought you a snack.” Mark walked over to Donghyuck and set the plate down in front of him. Mark was careful enough that the porcelain made no sound against Donghyuck’s plastic desk surface, “Just in case you were hungry.”

Donghyuck snorted. He supposed it was also in Mark’s programming to check up on him periodically, make sure he wasn’t starving himself. Still, he hadn’t eaten since lunch. His stomach growled traitorously, and Mark’s eyebrows lifted at the sound.

Donghyuck raised his hands in surrender.

“You caught me.”

He took an apple slice, puckering his lips as soon as the sour taste hit his tastebuds. The tartness was overwhelming; it was to the point where Donghyuck had to make a face. Suddenly, an idea hit him.

Donghyuck opened his eyes to find Mark already staring at him. The robot’s head was cocked to the side in his open curiosity of Donghyuck’s reaction to the apple.

“Hey, Mark,” Donghyuck started, a smile growing across his face, “Can you eat?”

Mark nodded, and Donghyuck’s smile grew wider still. He stood up out of his chair to offer the plate out to Mark. inadvertently, this action brought him alarmingly close to Mark. Donghyuck tried not to focus on Mark’s face, only inches from his. He tried not to notice his own bare toes, pointed straight at the tips of Mark’s spotless shoes.

Donghyuck lifted the plate, and spoke through the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Would you want to try one?”

Mark looked from the apples to Donghyuck, his eyes glinting. This close, Donghyuck could see every detail of Mark’s face. He could pick out things he’d never had the chance to notice before, from each individual lash framing Mark’s wide eyes to the moles scattered across his skin.

Mark looked down again, “I think I would.”

He plucked a slice off the plate and raised it to his lips, hesitantly. Donghyuck held his breath as Mark paused with the apple held to his barely parted lips. Then, he bit off half of the slice.

Mark’s reaction was instantaneous. Immediately, Mark’s face changed. His eyebrows shot up, and his eyes widened as he stared at the half-bitten slice in fascination. Donghyuck felt oddly gleeful, like he could dance.

“I now understand the strange expression you made,” Mark said.

“Right?” Donghyuck laughed, “I can’t remember the last time I had an apple that tasted this sour.”

Mark’s shoulders ticked downward minutely, the smallest slump.

“I’m sorry. I can go prepare you another snack.”

Donghyuck realized his mistake. He quickly shook his head and rushed to reassure Mark.

“No! It may be a little sour, but it’s still sweet,” To demonstrate, Donghyuck picked up another slice and ate it, “Mm. Delicious!”

Then, something happened that would leave Donghyuck reeling. Because of his proximity, close enough that his eyes would cross if he focused on Mark too intently, Donghyuck was able to see the corners of Mark’s mouth tick up.

Mark’s lips curled up, into a soft smile. Donghyuck felt that swooping feeling within him again.

“I think I’ll get you something else, just in case. Would you like a sandwich?”

“Would I like a -- Mark,” Donghyuck said, and his voice was nearly breathless, “-- man. I didn’t know you could smile .”

“Oh,” Donghyuck watched as Mark lifted his hand up to press his fingers to his lips, “I-- I suppose I can. I didn’t know I could, until now.”

“Well, don’t cover it up. You gotta show it off!” Donghyuck set the plate of apple slices down with a clatter and reached forward to take hold of Mark’s wrist.

Donghyuck couldn’t say what he would have done, had he followed through with his gesture. He’d probably been about to move Mark’s hand away from his face. But then, all of Donghyuck’s plans flew from his head as he realized what he was doing, who he was touching.

Donghyuck had his fingers curled around Mark’s wrist. He could feel the skin, soft, sparsely dotted with thin hairs. He could feel what had to be the plastic armature beneath it. There was hard protrusion that simulated a wristbone that lay between the grasp of Donghyuck’s pointer and middle finger.

Mark, Donghyuck discovered, was warm to the touch. Not cold, and not overwarm. He felt like anyone else.

Donghyuck snatched his hand away.

“I’m sorry. I-- I didn’t mean to just. Grab onto you like that.” Donghyuck couldn’t look at Mark. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“Donghyuck.”

Mark drew his fingers across the back of Donghyuck’s hand with the lightest touch. Only the tips of his fingers served as the barest points of contact connecting he and Donghyuck. It still commanded Donghyuck’s attention as easily as if Mark had taken Donghyuck’s hand in his.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. See?”

Mark pointed at his face, at the smile still on it. His lips had even parted, showing the white teeth that lay behind them. Donghyuck bit his lip, already feeling an answering grin about to break out across his face even though he’d felt so awful only moments before.

“I’m gonna go get you that sandwich now,” Mark said.

Donghyuck discovered another thing, just then. Mark spoke differently, when he was smiling.

“Oh. Okay,” Donghyuck nodded dumbly. Mark hadn’t minded his touch. He wondered how far that extended-- if maybe, just maybe, Mark wouldn’t mind if Donghyuck were to perhaps do it again. If Mark wouldn’t even mind if Donghyuck were to hold his hand, instead of just his wrist.

“Peanut butter and jelly sound good?” Mark asked when he reached the door.

Donghyuck nodded, because it wasn’t really like he could dredge up any other variety of sandwich at that moment. His mind was on Mark, and Mark alone.

Mark paused, his hand on the door handle. He looked down at his other hand, and Donghyuck realized he was somehow still holding onto the half-eaten apple slice.

Mark seemed to have just realized it himself, too. He stared at the apple a moment longer, then popped the rest of it in his mouth. He seemed to take longer to eat it, chewing it carefully and with a thoughtful expression on his face.

When he’d swallowed, Mark looked back at Donghyuck. His eyes were wide.

“You were right. It’s hard to tell at first, but if you try, you really can taste the sweetness.”

Chapter Text

“Why are you so smiley today? It’s making me, like, extremely uncomfortable.”

Jisung eyed Donghyuck warily through from behind his glasses. Donghyuck didn’t even know why he had those. Jisung had perfect vision.

“What? I can’t even be happy without you getting on my back about it?” Donghyuck hissed back, taking care to keep his voice below a certain volume.

They were in the library for Donghyuck’s free period. He had learned from past experience that he couldn’t speak too loudly or he risked being ratted out and subsequently kicked out.

Jisung snorted, not even bothering to follow Donghyuck’s lead and maintain a level of solemnity. Donghyuck was perturbed-- Jisung was skipping his Government class and hiding out with Donghyuck. He had all the more reason to avoid detection.

“You’re never this happy unless you’re planning some prank or something. I want in. So, spill.”

“I’m not planning anything,” Donghyuck said, his cheeks heating.

If he was, he’d be happy to share his plans with Jisung. The truth behind his smile was almost too embarrassing to even think about, much less to consider sharing aloud.

The truth was Donghyuck had been thinking about getting Mark to smile the other day. He’d thought about how Mark had felt to the touch. And the memory of those moments was all it had taken to lift Donghyuck’s mood and make him grin.

In retrospect, Donghyuck should have turned Mark down again that morning, when Mark had offered to drive him to school. He’d unknowingly committed himself to an entire car ride spent contemplating how easy it would be to reach out and bridge the gap between them. It had been torture.

And Donghyuck had thought he’d at least be safe to fantasize in study hall.

“Oh my God… if that wasn’t your I’m-working-on-a-prank-smile…,” Jisung looked horrified. Donghyuck frowned, already not liking the direction this was headed, “...Did Jeno do something?”

“Jeno?” Donghyuck’s frown was fixed on his face. He couldn’t fathom why Jisung was bringing Jeno up out of the blue. He’d thought, for a moment, that Jisung had been about to tease him about Mark.

“Geez, Hyuck. It wasn’t that long ago. Don’t act like you don’t remember your Jeno-smile.”

Donghyuck straightened out of his perpetual slump to shoot Jisung a look. He wasn’t acting. Jisung shot him a look right back.

“You used to smile like that after Jeno called you cute or said your voice was nice or whatever. I haven’t even forgotten it.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks grew warmer as he recalled with sudden clarity how obvious he used to be about his crush on Jeno. He’d known it hadn’t been entirely subtle, but he hadn’t realized that even Jisung had known about it. If Jisung had noticed, the crush had to have been common knowledge.

“Jeno didn’t do anything!” Donghyuck snapped, crossing his arms tight over his chest.

A student at a nearby holo-table looked through the translucent design she’d been working on to glare at him. She shushed him, aggressively enough to make him flinch. Donghyuck quickly apologized, then turned to glare at Jisung.

Jisung snickered, unbothered by Donghyuck.

“If it wasn’t Jeno, and it’s not a prank you’re planning…,” Jisung slapped his hand onto their table, and Donghyuck could practically see the lightbulb go off above his head as he lit upon another alternative explanation for Donghyuck’s smile, “The ‘bot!”

“What about Mark?” Donghyuck turned away from Jisung, put out. Jisung seemed to be completely oblivious when it came to everything except Donghyuck’s love life.

Scowl on his face, Donghyuck watched the girl who’d shushed him as she worked on her hologram. It was some kind of diorama-- a landscape of a field, dotted with miniscule little figurines that shimmered in and out with the pulsing light of the holo-emitter.

“Don’t tell me you’ve caught feelings for him,” Jisung prodded Donghyuck’s arm a couple times.

Donghyuck leaned out of his reach and, with an indignant squawk, said “Hey, ow! No. No way.”

“You do!” Jisung sounded delighted, “you’ve got a crush on Mark and you’re daydreaming about his cool, robotic embrace. Am I wrong?”

“Oh ew. I wasn’t! And he’s not cold! ... I don’t even know where you guys got that idea,” Donghyuck added with a pout, like he hadn’t just found out it was false himself.

He knew better now, at least. He knew for a fact that Jaemin and Jisung were wrong, and the thought alone made a corner of his mouth lift up into a lopsided smile.

“Sure. I guess that’s more Renjun’s thing, anyways.”

Donghyuck looked away from where the girl was now adding tall pine trees onto the hologram so he could hit Jisung. Jisung rubbed the spot on chest where Donghyuck’s hand had struck. He had his lips pressed together, but it did little to conceal his knowing smile.

After a disaster of a lunch period that had ended with Renjun’s corn in Jaemin’s hair, Jeno instituted a ‘No Mark Talk’ rule. Any violators of the No Mark Talk rule would be subject to punishment, at Jeno’s discretion.

Donghyuck was thrilled. It meant for an entire forty-five minutes of the day, his friends couldn’t possibly tease him about Mark, lest they wanted to face Jeno’s wrath. However, the rule had the unfortunate side effect of making Renjun corner Donghyuck. Renjun approached him in between periods and before and after school to drill him about Mark. Somehow, he always managed to do so within earshot of Jaemin.

Donghyuck would lie and say, No , he hadn’t found out if androids ran cold. No , he didn’t think androids could ever show emotions. No , surely they couldn’t ever be dateable. That was just crazy.

Donghyuck’s discouraging answers always made Renjun frown, and had the simultaneous effect of making Jaemin’s frown lessen, as he indiscreetly eavesdropped. Donghyuck wished he could make both of them happy at once, but it was impossible.

Jeno seemed to be suffering worse for Renjun and Jaemin’s new distance. The remainder of the weekend hadn’t mellowed them out at all. They barely spoke to each other, except to share unpleasant quips, and Jeno was stuck in the middle of it all.

When the trio walked towards the school building in the morning from the student lots, Jeno walked between Renjun and Jaemin. When the trio sat together at lunch, only Jeno separated them. Jeno made sure to take one of their places in every class where Jaemin and Renjun had sat next to each other which-- Donghyuck realized-- had been most of them.

“No offense, Hyuck, but I kinda hate that ‘bot of yours,” Jeno had growled, after art class. Renjun had tried to leave a handful of wet clay on Jaemin’s seat in retaliation for a comment Jaemin had made in the morning.

It’d been particularly hurtful, Donghyuck recalled. Jaemin had conjectured that Renjun was an android himself, since the only crush he’d had in ages had been Mark. Of course, since Jeno and Jaemin had swapped seats, Renjun’s act of revenge had meant that Jeno was the actual victim of Renjun’s act of revenge. Jeno shot up from his seat immediately after hearing a squelching sound, only to find that seat of his jeans were covered in a splatter of grey clay.

Donghyuck had winced at Jeno’s anger. His eyes automatically drifted down to the clay on Jeno’s jeans before he caught himself and looked up.

“It’s not Mark’s fault that they’re being idiots.”

“They’ve always been idiots. This--,” Jeno had reached around and pointed at the offending gray splatter, “--is next level. This only happened because of that android.”

Donghyuck ran his thumbs along the straps of his backpack. It was a nervous tic he’d developed within the waning years of high school, a habit he’d found himself doing more and more, lately.

“They’ll get over this. They always do, in the end.” Donghyuck’s voice was small and unconvincing even to his own ears.

Jeno had laughed at Donghyuck’s weak reassurances.

Dryly, he’d said, “I guess we’ll see if you’re right.”

Even with Jeno’s No Mark Talk rule, lunchtime was testy. The only ones who remained unaffected by the ongoing fight were the two youngest boys. While Renjun and Jaemin glared daggers at each other over their lunch trays, Chenle and Jisung conversed breezily, stuck in their own world. They were in the midst of a battlezone, but they didn’t even notice the missiles flying past their heads.

Donghyuck tuned into their conversations sometimes, when he wanted a break from listening to the passive aggressive barbs Renjun and Jaemin were trading. But Chenle and Jisung’s conversation only made his headache.

Donghyuck had lost count somewhere in the teens at how many times Chenle had assured Jisung, in a shy voice, that he was pretty. That he was funny. Donghyuck had also lost count of how many times Jisung had returned the reassurances, unprompted..

On one side of the lunch table, Jaemin and Renjun sat in heated conversation as Jeno intervened to keep it from blowing up. On the other side, Chenle and Jisung continued to compliment each other and, yet, still somehow hadn’t worked out that their crush was mutual. And Donghyuck was stuck in between it all, with his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, his pretzels, and his apple slices.

As conversations with his friends became minefields, Donghyuck found himself looking forward to the day’s end even more than he used to. In the last couple periods of the day, he watched the clock in anticipation of the sounding of the final bell. The signal that he could drive home, where Mark would be waiting with a snack in hand, smiling (because Mark always seemed to do that now. Smile.).

Mark would invariably ask him about his day. When Donghyuck told him the truth about how fragile the bonds seemed between he and his friends lately, Mark paused for a moment before weighing in.

“From what I know about people, for being made of such easily breakable bodies, you’re surprisingly resilient,” Mark said, with a smile. The watering can he’d filled with the intention of taking care of the houseplants lay abandoned by his elbow as he leaned over to listen Donghyuck’s concerns.

Donghyuck tried to act offended, with a “Hey!”. But Mark didn’t backtrack. He shook his head.

“Your relationships with each other seem to be equally resilient.”

Donghyuck refused to be cheered that easily. As much as he wanted to believe Mark’s words, he had to remember that Mark was a robot. He wasn’t at all an expert in humanity’s intricacies.

“I think you don’t know as much about people as you think you do.”

Mark’s smile grew wider, into a grin. Donghyuck wondered if it’d ever stop being a breathtaking sight, if looking at Mark’s smile would ever fail to send his heartbeat racing.

“That may be true, but I’m learning.”

Donghyuck set down his glass of orange juice, and straightened, curious.

“Oh yeah, hotshot? What have you learned so far?”

Mark lay his head in his hand, which had the unfortunate effect of bringing his face even closer to Donghyuck’s. His moles, his lashes, all of his distracting details were easy to make out at this distance. Donghyuck held his breath as his gaze fell down, down to Mark’s lips, pink against his pale skin.

Donghyuck hoped Mark couldn’t detect the speed of his heartbeat, as close as they were then. And, if he could, that he’d take pity on Donghyuck and pretend he didn’t know why it was beating so fast.

“I’ve learned that, despite what it says on the encyclopedia websites about your history, people can be smart.” Mark carried on past Donghyuck’s offended hiss, “I had wondered how the same species that had gone to the moon and had created new synthetic life could be the same one that created the atomic bomb, but I’m beginning to understand it now.”

Donghyuck shifted under Mark’s unselfconscious, unerring gaze. He noticed, distantly, that Mark’s eyes weren’t as completely dark as he’d thought. They were lightened with specks of lighter brown throughout, warming his gaze, making him even harder to differentiate from a human.

“Wait. What’re you understanding?” Donghyuck asked. He was mentally kicking himself for being too caught up on looking at Mark to listen to what he was saying.

“Everything humans have done, all of the atrocities and all of the advancements... it’s all been because of your emotionality. The two poles of your emotions-- love and hate-- they’ve been behind everything.”

“Love?” Donghyuck repeated, in wonderment that he’d heard that word fall from Mark’s lips.

“And hate,” Mark nodded, “They both drive you humans. But they also blind you, it seems. If your friends are any indication.”

Donghyuck frowned, surprised that Mark had gleaned that much from the little Donghyuck had been able to tell him, “I don’t think Jaemin even knows why he’s mad that Renjun keeps talking about his crush on you…”

Mark straightened, drawing away from Donghyuck, “See what I mean about being blinded by emotions?”

Donghyuck sucked his lower lip in between his teeth.

“How did you learn about us so much so quickly?”

“I’m equipped with formidable observational skills.”

With that, Mark pushed himself from the counter, deftly angling away so his elbow wouldn’t dislodge the watering can as he moved back. He picked up the can, and Donghyuck noticed that the plastic armature under his synthetic skin moved in much the same way as muscle would have, shifting and rippling.

“Wait,” Donghyuck realized what Mark had said, “Observational skills? You mean you’ve been, like, watching us?”

Mark nodded, and Donghyuck sucked in a breath. He laughed, nervous and high.

“Don’t tell me I taught you about human hatred. You’ll make me cry,” Donghyuck tried for a scolding tone, wasn’t quite sure if he’d managed it. He really didn’t want to be the reason that Mark learned about nasty, ugly sides of people like hatred and destruction.

“It wasn’t hate that I learned from observing you,” Mark shook his head, his eyes glinting in that oddly reflective way of theirs, “I’m going to take care of the chores now. If you need help with your homework later, please let me know.”

And, with that, Mark swept from the room, watering can in tow. Donghyuck watched him go, in wonder. Then, he looked from Mark’s receding form to the plate of snacks Mark had prepared for him. He frowned down at the sliced fruits, at the small bowl of nutella for dipping Mark had put to the side.

But Mark, Donghyuck thought, had only mentioned two sides to emotionality. If it wasn’t hate he’d learned from Donghyuck, then that left only one other thing…

Donghyuck’s heartbeat stuttered.

At the start of the week, Donghyuck received a homework assignment that Mark, with all of his pre-programmed knowledge and his access to all published information on the Internet, couldn’t have possibly helped him with.

Donghyuck’s Language Arts professor had announced to the class that they had until to Friday to write a poem. It could be any format, any length, on any subject. The breadth of the assignment made it all the harder for Donghyuck to start.

On Thursday night, he relented and asked for help. Donghyuck’s mother brainstormed themes with him as best as she was able.

“How about love, sweetie?” she asked, and that was no good. When Donghyuck thought of love, he thought of conversations over sliced fruit. He thought of opalescent eyes, shining back at him.

“Ugh,” He groaned, dropping his head into his hands, “Why can’t I just write about wheelbarrows or something? We read a poem like that earlier in the year.”

“Sweetie…,” Donghyuck’s mother placed a light hand on his shoulder, “You know that poem wasn’t really just about a wheelbarrow, right? Poems usually have deeper meanings behind the surface words.”

“That’s stupid. Words are words, they already have meanings. We shouldn’t go around giving them any other meanings besides the ones they already have.”

“Hear, hear!” Donghyuck’s father shouted, from the couch. He was watching some old TV show from his childhood-- from what Donghyuck could tell, it was about a pair of girls from the 1980s who fell in love or something. Donghyuck wasn’t really paying attention to the show, too hung up on his Language Arts’ professor’s frustratingly vague assignment.

“Thanks, dad.” He said, meekly, in the face of his mother’s upset frown.

“Fine.” She threw up her hands, bemused, “Write about the weather, for all I care. There’ll be some deeper meaning there, whether you like it or not.”

“The weather.” Donghyuck scoffed, but even as he did so, his eyes were drawn to the broad floor to ceiling windows that made up the wall of their living room.

It was night, dark enough outside that a few stars could be seen shining weakly despite the thorough light pollution of the suburbs. Then again, Donghyuck cocked his head, squinting at the small pinpricks of light, they might not have been stars at all. There were so few… they could just be planets, for all he knew.

Just then, Mark walked back in from the kitchen, carrying a cold bottle of beer for Donghyuck’s father.

Donghyuck cleared his throat, “Hey, Mark.”

Mark looked up at him, from all the way over by the couches. He was smiling. Of course he was. Donghyuck hadn’t noticed the smile when he’d walked into the room, but it was there now, for Donghyuck. He grinned back at Mark, automatically.

With a jerk of his head, Donghyuck indicated the wide windows and the night sky beyond,

“Do you know what planets those are?”

Mark drew away from the couches, to the windows. He stared out of them, eyes narrowed. In the window’s reflection, Donghyuck could see that his eyes shone, in that odd way they did when Mark was processing information, all reflective and colorful like a koi fish’s scales seen through the film of a murky pond.

Mark stepped back from the window and turned around.

“Those aren’t planets. Those are stars, part of the constellation Ursa Minor.”

“Ursa Minor?”

Mark nodded, “Yes. The name is Latin in origin. It’s also known as the Little Bear.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck looked out the window, beyond Mark, at the stars in the sky. He couldn’t see how the scattered little lights formed a bear, not at all. He sighed, wondering what was going through the minds of the ancients who’d named the formation of stars.

He looked back down at the blank document on his tablet, the expanse of uninterrupted white page mocking him, and starting writing the first thing that came to mind. In the end, to his mother’s praise, Donghyuck managed to write a short poem about a little bear who’d gotten himself stuck in a briar patch.

With his father’s reminder that he’d be needing Mark that night in mind, on Friday Donghyuck again accepted Mark’s offer to drive him to school. As loathe as he was to admit it to himself, Donghyuck had wanted to take advantage of the little time he’d get with Mark that day.

“So, what’ll it be today? New funk or retrowave?” Donghyuck asked Mark, as he scrolled through the car’s interface in search of something new to show off.

“I’m not sure about either of those,” Mark slowed the car down to a crawl to take a turn, then smiled at Donghyuck after he’d adjusted the car. Donghyuck smiled back.

He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like the ride to school was taking longer than it usually did, when he drove himself. Mark had taken an alternative route, had claimed its superiority as proven by his own calculations, and Donghyuck had taken him at his word.

“You want to listen to more old songs?” Donghyuck tried again, already navigating to that part of the music selection.

Mark nodded quickly, “Yes. Those were nice.”

Donghyuck hummed thoughtfully as he lit upon a section of music from nearly a century prior. He cast Mark a sidelong gaze as he clicked on the first song in the playlist, falling back in his seat as a group called the Beatles started singing to someone named Jude.

Mark started bobbing his head to the tune of the song as it picked up in pace, and Donghyuck watched in abject fascination. If he’d been born a century ago, he realized, around the time this song was made, he never would’ve had the chance to meet someone like Mark. Robots then must’ve been big and clunky. They certainly wouldn’t be able to smile as nicely as the boy seated beside him.

Aside from his study period, when Chenle had skived off class as well to join he and Jisung in the library, things had been going a bit too well for Donghyuck. He should’ve been suspicious. He should’ve, at least, seen another Renjun and Jaemin moment coming.

Right after Donghyuck had dropped into his chair at their lunch table, before he had even unzipped his lunch bag, Renjun accosted him.

“So, I heard your little chauffeur was spotted again today,”

Donghyuck’s shoulders hiked up and, instead of looking towards Renjun and probably being found out immediately, he turned his gaze to Jeno. Jeno shook his head minutely-- the message was clear. Don’t indulge Renjun.

Donghyuck hummed noncommittally and looked back down to his lunchbag. Instead of pretzels, Mark had packed cookies. They looked to be homemade. Donghyuck hadn’t noticed him making them. He wondered how Mark had found the time between taking care of all his other responsibilities.

“I’m just saying, if he drives you to school on Monday, get him to swing by the student’s lot, ‘kay? I wanna say hi.”

A slamming sound startled Donghyuck and he jumped up in his chair. When he looked up from the cookies, he saw Jaemin was holding his juicebox with a deathgrip. As Donghyuck and the rest of the table watched in silence, Jaemin slowly unclenched his grip and drew his hand away from the juice.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “my hand slipped.”

Renjun leaned over, looking past Jeno so he could face Jaemin head on.

“It didn’t. What did that poor juicebox ever do to you, Jaemin? What’s got you so worked up that you’re taking it out on helpless cardboard boxes?”

Chenle whimpered at Donghyuck’s side.

Jaemin leaned over too, paralleling Renjun and peering past Jeno. His eyebrows were lowered and nostrils flared.

“What’s got me so worked up? You’re really gonna act like you--,”

“Shut up,” Jeno said. His low voice, tremulous and shaky with quiet furor, was more impactful than a shout. He reached forward with both his hands and grabbed onto Renjun and Jaemin’s faces and forced them apart.

“Hey!” Renjun shouted,

“Let me go!” Jaemin added.

“No! Not until you promise to shut up .”

Renjun and Jaemin turned twin glares to Jeno, forgetting their anger at each other in that one moment and joining forces against a greater foe. ‘Oh my God’ whispered Chenle. He sounded to be moments away from crying.

Donghyuck wrenched his eyes from the spectacle unfolding across the table to glance at Chenle, at his wobbly lower lip. Then at Jisung, with his eyes wide and his nervously twitching hands. Donghyuck cleared his throat.

“Hey, Jeno.” Once he’d gotten Jeno’s attention, Donghyuck nodded over at the two younger boys and said, “I think you can let them go now. They’re not arguing anymore.”

Jeno held on a moment longer, then his face crumpled and, seemingly with it, went his resolve. Jeno looked surprised at himself, as he pulled his hands off of Renjun and Jaemin. He stared at them, eyes widening.

“Great, now everyone’s staring,” Renjun groaned. He raised his spoon and stared into it as he put his hair back into place from where Jeno had mussed it up.

Donghyuck looked around surreptitiously. Renjun wasn’t entirely correct. A few students were shooting curious glances their way, but even those few were already turning back to their own respective lunchtable conversations.

“Yeah,” Jaemin said, rubbing a red spot on his nose, “What’d you have to do that for, honestly?”

“I… wasn’t thinking,” Jeno’s eyes were still wide.

“Clearly,” Renjun sniffed, and Jaemin snorted. They shared a look and, a first for the week, it didn’t look entirely hateful.

Jeno reached up and pushed his hand through his hair, taking a shaky breath, “Okay. Okay. We really need a relaxing weekend. Let’s just be cool tonight. No arguing, no face-grabbing. Just… unwinding.”

Donghyuck nodded, seizing upon Jeno’s proposition thankfully. Renjun’s face turned thoughtful, while Jaemin’s went carefully.

“My parents are gonna be out tonight,” Chenle piped up, still sounding a little shaken, “for Donghyuck’s dad’s poker game. We can hang out at mine.”

Donghyuck brightened instantly, “Oh my God, please! I wanna use your hot tub so bad.”

He fished out a cookie from the baggie and tried it. His eyes slid shut upon tasting it. Somehow, it was baked just right.

Donghyuck had thought things might be smooth sailing after the lunchtime eruption, but once again his hopes were dashed. It only took until Language Arts for things to go to shit again.

It was poem presentation day, and after the first couple volunteers had read their works, the classroom went deafeningly silent when the professor called for someone to go next.

“Shit,” Donghyuck whispered, sliding low in his seat and praying not to be noticed.

His poem was only about a bear in a briar patch, but he still couldn’t read it aloud in front of his entire class. It didn’t mean anything, not at all, but it would still feel like he was reading a diary entry or something.

The professor called again for volunteers. The smile she’d worn after the first two students had volunteered was quickly wearing off. She was scanning the classroom, searching for her next victim, and her eyes kept landing on Donghyuck.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck reached across the aisle, when her eyes slid past him once again, “Renjun, volunteer. C’mon.”

Renjun shook his head, violently. His eyes wide and fearful as he looked, not at the teacher, not at Donghyuck but, for some reason, at Jaemin.

“What?” Donghyuck asked, not understanding, “She loves everything you write. What are you so nervous about?”

“Hyuck, please,” Renjun pleaded, with a tone of desperation. But in his desperation he’d spoken loudly, too loud.

The professor’s gaze focused on him, “Mister Huang. Since you want to talk anyways, you might as well share your work with the class. Come up here and read your poem.”

Renjun’s smiled a tight smile and nodded once. Without looking back, at Donghyuck or any of the rest of the guys, he marched to the front of the classroom as solemnly as if he was walking to the gallows.

Donghyuck turned a questioning look to Jeno, who only shrugged, just as confused as him, then to Jaemin. Jaemin didn’t even acknowledge Donghyuck. He watched Renjun with an intense gaze, brows furrowed. His fingers rapped a harsh beat against the surface of his desk.

Renjun cleared his throat, and Donghyuck’s eyes snapped to the front. Renjun looked pale as a ghost, his face tinged slightly green.

“Okay, uh. This poem’s called ‘ What I’d Do’ ...,” Renjun’s voice petered out and he turned with one last look backwards to the professor. In a whisper loud enough to carry across the silent classroom, he said, “Professor, I didn’t know we’d be presenting these in class.”

Unflinching, she jutted her chin forward. Donghyuck felt something in his chest clench as guilt seized him. He didn’t know what Renjun had written, but it was his fault that Renjun had to read it aloud when he so evidently didn’t want to.

“Okay, then,” Renjun’s voice was tiny, “What I’d do…,” he began.

Then he looked up from his tablet, just a split second where he looked to the far back of the classroom, then back down to his poem again. It wasn’t quick enough to tell where he’d looked, but Donghyuck could guess. As Renjun recited his poem, Donghyuck watched Jaemin out of the corner of his eye.

“What I’d do

Here’s what I’d do to catch your eye:

I’d go around and flirt.

I’d talk to any and every guy.

I’d start a fight with you.

I’d pretend everything’s alright.

That’s what I’d do

to catch your eye.

Here’s what I’d do to make you smile:

I’d tell jokes that don’t land.

I’d make a fool of myself.

I’d run around in circles.

I’d pretend everything’s alright.

That’s what I’d do

to make you smile.

Here’s what I’d do if you were mine:

I’d call you honey, baby, darling.

I’d call you every night.

I’d treat you better than she treated you.

I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore

Because everything would finally be alright.

That’s what I’d do

if you were mine.”

Jaemin’s face cleared as Renjun read his poem, transforming from intense in his singleminded focus, to something softer, more delicate. After the third stanza, his fingers had stilled against his desk, going frozen. He’d looked paralyzed, still as a mannequin. He’d pursed his lips as he stared straight ahead, his eyes boring into Renjun, who looked anywhere but Jaemin’s direction as he finished reading his poem.

“ And uh. That’s it,” Renjun finished, weakly. He bowed to the Professor, whose mouth was hanging wide open, “I’ve already sent you the file so, if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna-- I’m going to the bathroom. Bye. I mean, thanks. I mean-- sorry.”

Renjun bowed to the class too, then took off, tablet in hand. The door slammed shut behind him. The entire classroom was silent, all of their classmates watching either the still door or their stunned professor.

Jaemin had unfrozen. He’d half-risen out of his seat. Jeno had a thousand-yard stare on his face. He was still looking at the empty spot where Renjun had been standing.

Suddenly, Donghyuck clapped. Renjun wasn’t even there to hear his applause, but he hoped that, maybe, his erratic actions would take some of the attention away from his friend’s flight.

Donghyuck succeeded in drawing the attention away from Renjun at least. His solo applause drew the eyes of nearly all of his classmates to him. Jaemin fell back into his seat, but his eyes stayed on the door. After a few painful moments, Donghyuck stopped clapping and lowered his hands. Cringing, he said,

“That was just-- a really great poem! Wow.”

His actions seemed to shake the professor out of her reverie as well as the class. She shook her head and looked to Donghyuck, her lips pulled down into a frown.

“Would you like to present next, Mister Lee?”

Donghyuck thought of Renjun, probably hiding out in the bathroom at that moment. He thought of how it was his fault that Renjun was even in that situation, his fault that Renjun had had to reveal his feelings in such an unfortunate way. His little bear poem paled in comparison to Renjun’s. He stood up from his desk, grabbed his tablet, and started to walk to the front of the classroom.

Chapter Text

“Why do you have Renjun’s bag?” Chenle asked, after he and Jisung had finally joined Donghyuck and Jeno in Jeno’s car.

Donghyuck hugged the bag closer to his chest, “Long story.”

Renjun had never returned from the bathroom. Donghyuck guessed he’d taken his keys with him when he’d ran and just ditched the rest of the period, seeing as Language Arts was their last class of the day.

Chenle surveyed Donghyuck sharply for a moment, searching for any chink in his armor, any weak spot he could target with another question, but Donghyuck managed to keep a straight face. Chenle looked away and out the window, “Hmph. Whatever.”

“I hope he still comes to Chenle’s tonight,” Donghyuck said, aloud, when Jeno’d managed to fight his way out of the student lot. He was worried Renjun would want to maintain his disappearing act.

“Jaemin’s coming, though,” Jeno was frowning, eyes in the rearview mirror at a car trailing just a touch too close to his car’s bumper.

“I know,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes, “That’s kinda the point.”

“Point? Shit, what the hell does this guy think he’s doing?” Jeno twisted in his seat to shoot a dirty look at their tailgater.

“Point!” Donghyuck clapped his hands together, inadvertently crunching Renjun’s bag in his lap. He scowled, and patted it back into shape, “Now’s the best time to make them talk things over, get everything out in the open. We can’t let Renjun just get away with pretending like he didn’t confess to Jaemin in front of Jaemin and twenty nine other people.”

“Renjun did what?” Chenle asked, so high pitched it was almost a screech.

Suddenly, Jeno flicked on his hazards and pulled to the side of the road. The tailgater drove right by them, his advancement so quick he must’ve been waiting for the first opportunity to pass them up.

Donghyuck looked with Jeno with wide eyes, feeling somewhat at fault. He’d provoked Chenle’s scream. But Jeno just ignored his gaze and turned around to Chenle and Jisung in the backseat.

“Renjun didn’t confess to Jaemin. He read a poem he’d written about someone who might have been Jaemin. Then he ran away right after, before getting the chance to get his things. That’s why Hyuck has his bag.” Jeno turned away to face the front, and carefully pulled back onto the road, “Now, you know everything.”

Donghyuck frowned at Jeno, wondering why he was acting out all of a sudden. Maybe Donghyuck was too optimistic, but he could practically feel a breakthrough point coming between Jaemin and Renjun. Of course, it probably helped now that he knew Renjun didn’t actually have any feelings for Mark, that he had been faking it all along for Jaemin’s attention.

The shard in Donghyuck’s chest seemed to be gone, all of a sudden. Vanished. The ugly, bitter taste of jealousy in his mouth vanished along with it.

Donghyuck craned his neck to look back at the two boys in the backseat. They both seemed utterly shocked-- Chenle’s mouth formed a perfect uppercase O and Jisung’s nose was screwed up like he’d sniffed something strange and was trying to place the scent.

Donghyuck cleared his throat, “You two. Now that you know everything, we’re gonna need your help getting Renjun to agree to come out tonight, okay?”

✶

Jeno had refused to lend a hand to aid Donghyuck’s scheming, choosing instead to boil away in Chenle’s hot tub.

“This isn’t going to work,” he’d warned Donghyuck.

But Jeno’s admonishments did little to deter him. With Chenle and Jisung’s help, it was too easy to make the pieces of his plan fall into motion.

Chenle, as Renjun’s weak spot, texted Renjun to beg him to come over. In his text, he’d promised that Jaemin had already left and that Renjun had to come by to pick up his bag anyways. Jisung, as Jaemin’s weak spot, asked Jaemin if he could take him to a nearby convenience store to get a brand of soda that Jisung may or may not have (but definitely had) made up. That’d take care of getting Jaemin’s car out of Chenle’s driveway.

Jaemin had made himself scarce once he’d arrived, hiding away inside while the rest of them soaked in the hot tub.

Donghyuck hung back, half hidden, while Jisung went to ask Jaemin for the ride to the store.

“Alright,” Jaemin said, looking up at Jisung from where he was sunk into Chenle’s family’s luxurious looking couch. He had a certain set in his brow, a determined glint in his eye that Donghyuck couldn’t recall ever seeing there before, “I’ll drive you. But you have to let me borrow your phone. Renjun’s not answering my texts.”

Jisung glanced at Donghyuck, and Donghyuck violently shook his head to say No. If Jaemin got ahold of Renjun before they were in the same room, the plan would fall to pieces.

Jisung looked nervous as he told Jaemin, “I-- uh-- dropped my phone in the hot tub. Sorry,” Jisung winced and Donghyuck winced with him. Jisung couldn’t lie to save his life, “I’d let you borrow it if it wasn’t uh…. totally broken. Yeah.”

“Damn, that sucks.”

Jaemin bought it though.

Donghyuck drew back behind the wall that was serving as his hiding spot and pumped his fist in the air. Of course Jaemin had bought the lie; it had come from Jisung. Donghyuck poked his head out from the wall once more. He watched with bated breath as Jaemin slapped his hands to his knees and stood with a sigh.

“Alright, let’s go get your soda. I’ll steal Jeno’s phone later, I guess.”

Jaemin walked towards the front door with slumped shoulders. Jisung threw Donghyuck a pair of thumbs up behind his back. Donghyuck listened as Jaemin’s Jeep started up, then pulled away. He did a little jig-- Jaemin’s shoulders wouldn’t be slumped for much longer.

He ran outside, his bare feet slapping against the wet concrete, and slipped into the hot tub.

“Was part two a success?” Chenle asked from his perch at the edge of the hot tub. He kicked a splash of water in Donghyuck’s face when he didn’t answer Chenle’s question immediately.

“Of course it was,” Donghyuck spluttered through a mouthful of chlorinated water, “Jaemin can’t resist Jisung’s puppydog eyes.”

Chenle traced his big toe through the bubbles rising to the water’s surface, “Who could?”

“What?” Jeno asked, lifting his head to shoot a sharp look at Chenle.

“What what?” Chenle asked, far too innocently. He dropped his foot back down into the water with a splash, making Jeno swerve away to avoid the resultant upspray of water.

Donghyuck coughed, before Jeno could recover and start to ask Chenle more questions.

“Putting a pin in that topic, how far out is Renjun?”

Chenle looked at his phone, by his hand. Donghyuck frowned upon seeing its proximity to the hot tub. If Chenle wasn’t careful, his phone would really fall to victim to the sorry fate Jisung had made-up for his phone.

“He should be here in… a couple of minutes, maybe?”

“Shit,” Donghyuck cursed. He clambered out of the hot tub, reaching for a towel to wrap around his waist, “Chenle,” he beckoned the boy to follow him. Jeno sighed exaggeratedly as they left, laying his head back down on his crossed arms.

“Hey! Dry your feet off before you go inside,” Chenle hissed. Donghyuck rolled his eyes but conceded, toweling himself off, and shaking his wet hair out at Chenle for good measure.

While they waited for Renjun’s car to pull up, Donghyuck’s mind strayed for the first time from his friends and their struggles. Right at that moment, at his house, his father was probably showing off all of Mark’s functions to his poker buddies. Donghyuck’s mood fell, minutely. He hoped Mark didn’t feel too much like a showdog or, worse, just some kind of fancy new gadget.

Before he could think better of it, Donghyuck typed out a quick message to Mark, and sent it.

to: mark

hey loser guess what

He could picture Mark’s eyes lighting up, literally, as he received the ping. He’d witnessed Mark receive messages before-- his mother texting Mark to let him know he needed to mow the lawn, or his father, too lazy to shout, texting him to grab him a drink. It was surreal to watch Mark’s eyes light up in the midst of an otherwise innocuous conversation.

from: mark

I’ve actually won every hand

they’ve let me play tonight.

So you should have said

‘Hey, Winner, guess what?’.

Donghyuck laughed. He could practically hear Mark saying that in his matter of fact voice. Ignoring Chenle’s curious gaze, he typed out another message, smiling to himself.

to mark:

lame joke :(

from: mark

:)

to mark:

anyways!

i’m playing matchmaker right now

thanks for not guessing

from: mark

Matchmaker?

to mark:

turns out renjun never liked you

that’s why you’re a loser

guess no one’s got a crush

on you after all :(

from: mark

No one?

Donghyuck stared down at the text on his phone screen. He hadn’t realized just how much Mark’s scant few facial expressions told him until he didn’t have their help. He couldn’t tell what Mark had meant in his last message, whether he was debating the veracity of Donghyuck’s message (and wasn’t that terrifying? the possibility that Mark knew how Donghyuck felt about him) or if Mark was, perhaps, disappointed that Renjun didn’t have a crush on him after all.

The sound of a car’s engine drew Donghyuck’s attention away from his phone. It was the same synthetic engine noises they placed in every small car. Chenle hit Donghyuck’s arm, in case he had miraculously missed the sound.

“He’s here!”

Renjun stepped out from his car already wearing his swimsuit. His eyes were rimmed with red, and Donghyuck felt a pang in his chest upon catching sight of them. Renjun had to have been crying awfully hard.

“C’mon, the hot tub’s already warm,” Chenle said, suddenly moving forward and grasping Renjun’s hand. Donghyuck noticed the reassuring squeeze Chenle gave it, once he had Renjun’s hand in his hold.

Donghyuck followed behind them, shooting a nervous look up the street. He was afraid Jaemin’s Jeep would already be driving up. Renjun had taken longer than they’d been expecting.

Renjun sniffed, a pitiful sound that drove home how broken up he was over having to share that poem he’d written. Donghyuck felt something climb up and lodge itself in his throat. Before he knew it, he was reaching out for Renjun. He wanted to pat Renjun’s back, to offer some sense of support, but he held back just before he would have made contact. Something made him hesitate.

“I only came because Chenle promised there’d be no sign of Jaemin,” Renjun said suddenly. His voice sounded different, thinner, with his stuffy nose.

“Oh,” Donghyuck recovered, quickly withdrawing his hand and righting himself, “Yup. Chenle’s right.”

Chenle giggled, his nerves making themselves known. Donghyuck shot him a censuring look that quickly faded when Renjun peered over his shoulder at Donghyuck.

“That means no talking about him either, okay, Hyuck? Or the poem,” Renjun turned away from Donghyuck and pushed through the back door onto the patio.

“I want this to be a Jaemin-free night,” Renjun declared.

Thankfully, Renjun chose that moment to pull his shirt over his head, obscuring his hearing just enough that Jeno’s ironic snort was lost to him. After Renjun emerged from the hem of shirt, he looked at Jeno with curiosity.

“Did you say something, Jeno?”

Jeno hummed, “Me? Oh no, of course not. What would I say? What is there to say about Jaemin, and tonight, and Jaemin and tonight--”

“Wow! Would you look at that?” Donghyuck interrupted Jeno before he could foil their plan, pointing at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “It’s hot tub time!”

Chenle nodded over eagerly, and repeated Donghyuck’s words, “Hot tub time!”

“You guys are acting weird,” Renjun frowned, as he wrung his hands, twisting his t-shirt up, “Like, really weird.”

Chenle opened his mouth, probably to issue an unbelievable denial, but he closed his mouth immediately shut again. His eyes widened as he looked at a point beyond Renjun’s shoulder.

Donghyuck was in the midst of following Chenle’s gaze, wondering what had made him stop talking before he’d even started, when the back door clicked open.

“Renjun?” Jaemin asked. His voice was breathless, like he’d been running, “I saw your car in the driveway but I-- I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“...Jaemin.”

Renjun’s eyes went wide. He scrambled to untangle his t-shirt and attempt to cover himself with it. The situation was so absurd. If it didn’t feel like such a fragile moment, Donghyuck would have laughed. They’d all been best friends since grade school, Jaemin had seen Renjun shirtless countless times before.

Though Donghyuck supposed it was different now that Renjun’s feelings for Jaemin had changed into something new. The difference made Donghyuck sober up enough not to burst out into laughter.

Jaemin straightened, pulling himself up with his hold on the back door.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Renjun’s gaze flitted around, from Chenle, to Jeno, to Donghyuck, like he was searching for some savior. When no one stepped forward to rescue him from having to talk to Jaemin his shoulders fell. His hand dropped, with the t-shirt still held in his grasp. Renjun sighed.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

Jaemin held the door open for Renjun to pass through, then followed behind him. Donghyuck watched their forms recede, then turned to Chenle. Chenle had an expression of trepidation on his face, while Donghyuck felt little but excitement.

“Let’s go,” he beckoned, taking to the door.

Chenle followed, and the splash of water told him that Jeno, despite his griping, was just behind them. Jisung waited inside, a finger raised to his lips. He pointed at a side door-- one that Donghyuck knew well. It led to Chenle’s game room. The guys had spent more afternoons together there than probably any other single place.

Quietly, they all shuffled up as one, and pressed their ears to the door.

“--bullshit, Renjun,” a deep voice, raised in anger. Donghyuck frowned. He hadn’t expected them to be angry with each other. But he’d only heard a couple words. He pressed his ear closer to the door. The plastic material was cool at the side of his head.

“It’s the truth!” Renjun’s voice came loud and clear, defensive, but obstinate and stubborn as ever. Donghyuck smiled, picturing Renjun stamping his foot and staring up at Jaemin, radiating defiance despite being inches shorter than the other boy.

“It doesn’t make sense. How could the poem have been about Mark?”

Donghyuck’s gaze flicked nervously to Chenle. There was no way Renjun had tried to convince Jaemin that he’d written about Mark, not when even the barest thought would prove that defense wrong. Renjun usually had better sense than that. Donghyuck saw his worries reflected in Chenle’s eyes.

“Who else would it have been about? God, don’t tell me you thought it was about you,” Renjun’s capricious laugh was loud and high. Donghyuck had to pull away from the door, the sound had been so unexpected.

“I wanted it to be.” When Jaemin spoke, his words were so quiet that Donghyuck could scarcely catch them.

“You-- what?” Renjun spoke just as quietly as Jaemin, his defiant tone gone.

“I wanted your poem to be about me. If it really wasn’t... if you don’t want to be mine. If you want to be his... I’ll respect that. I’ll back off. But, Renjun, I swear, when you read that poem, it felt like you were speaking straight to me. When you ran off, all I wanted to do was run after you.”

Renjun said something in reply in such a quiet voice that Donghyuck couldn’t catch what he’d said. Donghyuck again looked with uncertainty at Chenle, who shrugged helplessly back.

“What do you mean, I should have--,” Jaemin’s words were suddenly cut off. Donghyuck strained, as he pressed his ear close enough to the door that his ear hurt. But he couldn’t catch any words, any wisp of sound. He drew back onto his heels, frowning, rubbing at his sore ear.

“You don’t think they’re--,” He began, in a whisper.

“--fighting?” Jisung finished, sounding concerned as he stared on at the door in horror. Donghyuck was more worried about Jisung than Renjun and Jaemin-- why had he immediately jumped to that conclusion?

“No? I was going to say kissing?”

Chenle gasped, raising his hand to his mouth, “Oh my God.”

Jeno huffed an impatient breath. He moved forward, pushing Jisung out of the way and kicking Donghyuck and Chenle away. Donghyuck yelped. The kick hadn’t hurt, but it had come as a surprise.

Jeno pulled the door open, without announcing himself. Donghyuck traded glances with both Chenle and Jisung, then they all followed in after Jeno. Inside the room frozen and intertwined on Chenle’s oversized couch, sat Renjun and Jaemin.

Renjun had his arm held up, his forearm shading his squinting eyes from the bright light streaming in from the hallway outside. He was straddling Jaemin’s lap, his swim trunks stretched tight. Jaemin, meanwhile, looked too starstruck by the boy on top of him to even spare their intruders a glance. His hair was mussed, in disarray compared to how it’d looked only moments before on the patio, as if Renjun had run his hands though it.

“I told you they’re fighting,” Jisung moaned. Donghyuck moved to hit him, but Chenle beat him to the punch,

“Idiot,” he hissed, “Uh, sorry,” Chenle said, a bit louder, “We’re gonna actually leave you guys alone now.”

“That would be appreciated. Thanks,” Renjun said, dryly. Donghyuck didn’t know how he managed to look so dignified in such a compromising position, but he was impressed.

Chenle nodded immediately and turned, herding Jisung away and out the door.

“What Chenle said,” Donghyuck spoke, accompanied by a nervous laugh. He grabbed onto Jeno’s arm and yanked him, dragging him away, “Come out for snacks later! And air.” Donghyuck added the last part under his breath, as he closed the door shut behind Jeno.

“Wow,” Donghyuck exhaled, as they walked away, keeping true to their word. He repeated himself, still in mild shock from the image of two of his oldest friends caught in the midst of making out. “Wow! I can’t believe we pulled that off.”

“Yeah, me neither,” something in Jeno’s voice made Donghyuck pull up before following Chenle and Jisung out to the patio. He turned. Jeno was frowning, though he wasn’t looking at Donghyuck. Instead, he was gazing downward, as if staring at his feet, but his eyes were unfocused, unseeing.

Donghyuck poked his forearm.

“C’mon, Jeno,” he prompted him, drawing out his name, poking him again for good measure, “We did it!”

Jeno’s hand came up to seize Donghyuck’s wrist, holding him still, “Christ, Hyuck! I get it. Congratulations.”

Donghyuck pulled his arm out of Jeno’s grasp, holding back a wince. He was sure it hadn’t been intentional, that Jeno had no idea he was even doing it, but Jeno had been holding onto him a bit too tightly.

“Fine. Be that way,” Donghyuck shrugged, not understanding and not really caring about Jeno’s odd mood. He was still overwhelmed with relief and joy at Renjun and Jaemin’s getting together, “I thought you wanted them to make up.”

“I did-- I do,” Jeno’s frown deepened. He stared at his hand, the one he’d gripped Donghyuck with. Then, he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me. I think I’m tired, or something.”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together. He accepted the excuse, because he could sense Jeno wanted him to drop it.

“Let’s join Chenle and Jisung now,” he said, for some reason, instead of just doing it. Still, Donghyuck waited for Jeno’s nod to turn and go through the door.

Jeno went ahead of him, and Donghyuck slowed. Under the patio light, the spot where Jeno had grabbed his wrist stood out angry and red against his skin. Donghyuck stared at the red handprint for a beat, then shook his head. He dropped into the hot tub and slipped his wrist under the surface of the bubbling water.

✶

When Mark pulled up to Chenle’s house to pick Donghyuck up, Donghyuck bounded forward and leapt into the car.

“Mark!” he greeted, excitedly, as he tossed his backpack into the backseat. Mark surveyed him, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile.

“Hello, Donghyuck,” he said, then, “you’re wet.”

“Hot tub,” Donghyuck rested his elbows on the car’s center console and leaned forward to rest his chin in his hands, “Now, aren’tcha gonna ask me about the match I made?”

Mark’s smile went lopsided as one corner lifted up higher than the other. He took a hand off the wheel and, suddenly, Mark was reaching forward. Before Donghyuck could so much as begin to panic, Mark was brushing the dripping strands of Donghyuck’s hair away, and out of his eyes. The blunt tips of his fingernails tickled as they passed over Donghyuck’s skin, sending Donghyuck’s heart racing. Finally, Mark’s hand finished its journey, as he tucked the longest strands which framed Donghyuck’s face behind his ear.

Donghyuck swallowed, weakly, looking up at Mark with an unobscured view. He was troubled to find that Mark’s smile was all the more affecting when seen in full.

“There, now you can see,” Mark’s smile hadn’t changed at all. It was still wide and crooked, like he hadn’t been affected at all by what he’d just done, like he hadn’t just upended Donghyuck’s entire world. Mark turned away from Donghyuck, back to the road, and started to drive.

“Oh,” Donghyuck said, when it became clear no explanation was coming for Mark tucking his hair behind his ears, “thanks.”

Donghyuck drew back from the console and buckled in. Frowning, he reached up to pat the strands of hair Mark had tucked behind his ear, ensuring they were still where Mark had placed them.

“Tell me about the new couple,” Mark sounded amused. Donghyuck glanced at him, but his face was straight. He wasn’t teasing Donghyuck.

“Well, honestly, you probably had as much a hand in getting them together as I did,” Donghyuck confessed, with a sigh.

“Me?”

“Yeah, if it wasn’t for your cute ass, Renjun would’ve never tried to make Jaemin jealous.”

Mark snickered, “‘Cute ass’,” he repeated.

Donghyuck joined in, giggling. Mark’s laugh had to be the cutest thing about him, rivalling even his smile. Mark’s laugh… Donghyuck’s eyes flew open as he looked on Mark anew.

“You know, that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh,” he said, amazed into honesty.

Mark blinked, before shooting Donghyuck a brief glance. Then, he laughed again. A real laugh, this time. The sound of it filled the space of the car, warming the air. It sent something within Donghyuck soaring upon hearing it.

“It seems this is becoming a pattern,” Mark said, when he’d finished laughing, “How many of my firsts have been because of you?”

“I... don’t know,” Donghyuck lied.

Two, he recalled. Mark’s first smile, and Mark’s first laugh. Donghyuck wondered if there were more, ones he was missing. He wondered how many there would be in the future, how much of Mark he had yet to discover.

Donghyuck turned from Mark to look out at the expansive sky that lay beyond the street ahead of them. It looked as if they kept driving, they’d eventually drive off the edge of the world and straight into space, the stars seemed to shine that close.

“Those aren’t planets or satellites, right?” Donghyuck had to confirm.

“No. That’s Ursa Minor.” Mark glanced sideways at Donghyuck, the starlight throwing the lines of his face into sharp relief, emphasizing his sharp cheekbones and the slope of his nose. Donghyuck had to look away, grateful for the dim light so his sudden blush wouldn’t be visible.

He peered closer at the stars. He supposed their arrangement looked familiar, even if it still didn’t look much like a bear to him.

“I’ll learn it eventually,” Donghyuck promised.

“Okay,” Donghyuck could hear the smile in Mark’s voice as he spoke, “But until you do, remember that you can just keep asking me.”

Chapter Text

Donghyuck was in the middle of bothering Mark as he made spinach and ricotta tarts, annoying him under the pretense of ‘helping’, when his phone lit up with a message from Jeno.

“Oh! Sorry, I have to answer this.” Donghyuck reacehed to wipe his messy, cheesy fingers off on Mark’s apron.

Mark laughed and bumped him away with the side of his hip, “Good. Leave me alone.”

Donghyuck clutched his chest, feigning hurt.

“Wow, see if I come back and help you now. When did you learn about sarcasm?”

Mark smirked at Donghyuck, his eyes flicking up from where he was bent over working on filling a tart crust.

“Who said I was being sarcastic?”

Donghyuck’s hand froze on his chest. For a heart-stopping moment, he was forced to entertain the idea that Mark hadn’t been joking, that he’d genuinely been bothered by Donghyuck. Then, Mark’s smirk disappeared as he leaned over, shoulders shaking, as he burst into laughter all over again.

Donghyuck took his hand off his chest and shoved Mark lightly. Donghyuck hoped he wouldn’t notice the relieved smile spreading across his face.

“I miss when you used to be nice to me,” Donghyuck pouted, not meaning it at all. He wouldn’t trade the warm feeling he got when Mark teased him or joked with him for anything.

Donghyuck unlocked his phone to read Jeno’s message.

from: jeno

hey

my brother’s having an apartment party tn

he said i could bring a friend

wanna come?

“I’m still nice to you,” Mark insisted, “I let you hang out with me, after all.”

“Oh, he makes a couple jokes and all of a sudden he thinks he’s a comedian,” Donghyuck said. Unfortunately, the effect of his quip was ruined as it was said through laughter.

He looked thoughtfully down at Jeno’s message, weighing how Jeno would take to some gentle probing. In the end, Donghyuck shrugged. He’d always lacked a bit of a filter anyways. He was sure Jeno would forgive him if he overstepped his boundaries a little.

to: jeno

did renjun and jaemin

already turn you down? :(

Donghyuck watched his phone; he eyed the bubble indicating Jeno was in the midst of typing a message. He frowned as time went on and the bubble remained. He wondered how long Jeno’s next text was going to be, and whether he should’ve just said yes instantly, rather than asking about Renjun and Jaemin.

Finally, the bubble disappeared.

from: jeno

they have plans

Donghyuck winced. All those minutes spent composing a message for it to be only three words long. He didn’t know what was up with Jeno, but he seemed to be hiding something. Whatever it was, whatever was bothering him-- maybe he needed a night out to forget it.

Donghyuck could be there for him, even if Renjun and Jaemin couldn’t.

to: jeno

well i don’t!

count me in

from: jeno

thanks hyuck

i like my brother’s friends

but they can be a bit much to bear alone

i’ll pick you up at 9?

Donghyuck was suddenly, annoyingly filled with nerves. Jeno had never taken him to one of his brother’s parties before, that had always been a rare outing reserved for Renjun and Jaemin. He had no idea what to expect, from Jeno or from Doyoung and his friends.

He wondered how much there’d be to drink there. Donghyuck had only ever been to house parties before, hasty get-togethers where his classmates had pooled their allowances for a keg. He couldn’t imagine one of Doyoung’s parties having a keg.

“Donghyuck,” Mark’s face was filled with concern, his brows knitted together, “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“Oh my God. Never say that again,” Donghyuck said, flashing Mark with a grin to get that worry off his face, “I’m okay. Looks like I’m going to my first college party, though. I’m not sure what it’ll be like.”

Mark straightened, standing up. He wiped his bangs away with the back of his hand, inadvertently  leaving behind a smear of ricotta. Donghyuck tried to keep a straight face, as Mark looked seriously at him with a stripe of white spanning across his forehead.

“I wish I could help you somehow. But my knowledge of college parties only extends to the typical drinking games performed at them,” Mark frowned at himself. Some strands of hair fell forward, dangerously close to touching the ricotta.  “I could list the top ten party universities?”

Donghyuck couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. He broke out into giggles, before snatching a towel and reaching forward to wipe the cheese from Mark’s forehead.

“I’m not sure how helpful that would be. But thank you, anyways. Hold still.”

Donghyuck held onto the side of Mark’s face as he toweled the white smudge off of him. Once Mark’s face was uncovered as he drew away the towel, Donghyuck felt his heart stutter as it beat its rhythm, restarting at a faster pace.

Because he had seen how Mark looking back at him. Mark was staring with widened eyes, his lips slightly parted. As Donghyuck’s gaze fixed on Mark’s mouth, on his pink lips, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Mark started to raise his hand as if in slow motion, up and up.

Watching its path, Donghyuck realized his own hand was still on Mark’s face. The skin underneath his palm was soft, and warm. Donghyuck’s breath caught in his throat and he snatched his hand away, just as Mark placed his hand on the spot Donghyuck’s hand had just been, cupping the side of his face.

Maybe, Donghyuck thought wildly, with his palm still warm from holding Mark’s face, Mark had been about to remove Donghyuck’s hand. Maybe.. Donghyuck thought, more wildly still, maybe he’d been about to hold onto Donghyuck’s hand. And keep it there, fixed to his face.

“You had… a bit of ricotta on your forehead,” Donghyuck’s voice was tremulous.

“Oh,” Mark frowned, the dimple between his brows making its appearance. His hand slid down. “Thank you for getting that for me.”

Donghyuck smiled, though it lay at odds when his heart, as it suddenly ached in his chest, “Of course. Anytime.”

He picked his phone up from the counter.

“I’m gonna-- go get ready now. See you later!”

“Okay. See you, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck told himself he wasn’t running away, even as he raced up the stairs to his room, taking them two at a time. He told himself that moment hadn’t scared him, even as he collapsed against his bedroom door after shutting it closed behind him. He told himself that Mark hadn’t looked awfully like the moment had affected him too, even as his breaths came in uneven bursts and splashed his face with cool water from his sink.

Maybe he was going crazy. The only other explanation was that Mark had actually felt something in that moment, too. And that was insane, right? Mark was a robot, made of synthetic skin and plastic and wires and circuits. Not flesh and bone.

Donghyuck ran his trembling fingers over his cheek. The skin there felt soft, and warm. It felt no different from Mark’s. Donghyuck held his hand there for another moment before cursing himself under his breath for being ridiculous, and reaching for a drawer. He sent the tubes of lipstick and pans of eyeshadow within it scattering.

✶

from: jeno

i’m here

Donghyuck clicked his phone off and threw it on his bed. He stared at the two checked shirts laid out in front of him, before giving in and reaching for the one he’d stolen from his father’s closet. Its navy blue tones were so faded they looked almost gray. He slipped a tube of gloss into his pocket and ran downstairs, his boots making a thunderous sound on the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going, Duckie?”

Donghyuck froze, mid step. He turned in horror to his father, to find him seated at the couch in the living room. He was peering at Donghyuck over the top of his reading glasses.

“Uh. Jeno’s taking me to the arcade?” he tried, hoping it sounded believable enough.

His father snorted and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “You’re forgetting your dad used to be young once too. Just remember to drink responsibly! Don’t drive under the influence.”

Donghyuck laughed, discomfited. Apparently the arcade excuse wasn’t any good after all.

Mark came from the kitchen, carrying a stained rag and a bottle of wood varnish. He stopped in his tracks upon catching sight of Donghyuck. Donghyuck waved, feeling inexplicably awkward. He was still thinking about his misstep with the towel and the smudge of ricotta.

“Wow, Donghyuck. You look…,” Mark trailed off, his eyes flitting from Donghyuck’s eyes, lined and shaded, to his lips, sticky with gloss.

Donghyuck smiled nervously.

“What-- you’ve got the entire dictionary in your head and you’re speechless?”

Donghyuck’s fingers automatically went up to ensure he didn’t have anything beyond makeup on his face. Mark was staring at him with such curiosity, there had to be something else there.

A warm smile spread across Mark’s face and, with complete sincerity, he said,

“You look beautiful.”

Donghyuck blinked, his fingers freezing, hovering over his lips.

A disgruntled harumph came from Donghyuck’s father’s direction, “What did that ‘bot just say to you?”

“Dad,” Donghyuck whined, not even sparing his father a glance.

He was staring in shock at Mark, in complete wonder that he’d just… come out and complimented Donghyuck so casually. Like it was nothing. Like he had no idea how his words alone could send Donghyuck reeling.

“Thanks.” This time he made sure his voice was quiet enough to be heard by Mark alone.

“There’s no need to thank me,” Mark slung the rag over his shoulder. His smile went crooked, “I’m just stating an observable fact.”
“R-right,” Donghyuck stuttered, his cheeks heating. Mark was teasing him again. But, Donghyuck paused, that didn’t explain why Mark hadn’t been able to string together a real sentence when he’d first walked out and spotted Donghyuck.

Donghyuck’s phone vibrated in his phone, alerting him of a new message. Donghyuck reached for it-- Jeno, as patient as he was, was likely growing restless.

from: jeno

hyuck?

you coming?

to: jeno

ya i’m headed out rn!

Donghyuck dared to take one last glance at Mark before he turned to the front door. Mark was standing in the same spot, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched Donghyuck. He noticed Donghyuck had caught him looking, and his grin widened.

“Are you leaving now?”

Donghyuck nodded.

“Bye, Duckie,” Donghyuck’s father called, with a frown fixed on his face.

“Yeah, bye, dad!” Donghyuck shouted back, before turning to Mark. Pushing down the fluttering feeling in his stomach, Donghyuck said a simple, “Bye, Mark.”

But no one had to know that, as Donghyuck walked to the front door, a secret smile stole onto his face.

Jeno grinned at Donghyuck when he stepped into his car.

“Hey, nice makeup, Hyuck. You look cute.”

“Hm?”

Donghyuck looked away from the wide windows of their living room. He could see Mark rubbing varnish onto their family’s old chest. He couldn’t see Mark’s face, but he imagined he had that intense look on it, the one he only had when he was hard at work, or when Donghyuck had said something particularly nonsensical. He turned to Jeno, smile on his face.

“I said you look cute, Hyuck,” Jeno laughed, then turned the volume up on the car’s radio. Donghyuck raised an eyebrow at the bass-heavy music. It seemed a bit aggressive to him, after listening to old throwback songs for weeks, with their acoustic sound and soft, melodic vocals.

“Oh. Thanks.”

✶

Donghyuck regretted ever feeling nervous about Doyoung’s party. He’d taken an instant liking to Doyoung’s friends, and the feeling appeared to be mutual.

“I am… adopting you,” Doyoung’s tall friend said, sounding out his words meticulously, carefully, as if he was trying very hard not to slur, “you’re m’son now.”

Donghyuck laughed. He’d only had a couple shots of some brown liquor that’d tasted sweet like red hots and half the beer he was nursing-- so he wasn’t as drunk as this tall guy. But he still felt oddly buoyant. The music, the company, the thoughts of Mark swirled around his head, lifting his mood higher and higher.

“I already have a dad, though,” he protested.

“That’s fine!” the guy said, lifting his arms up. With his wingspan, that was a dangerous move. He narrowly avoiding hitting the other guy on the couch with them in the face. “You can have two dads! I’ll be the second one!”

Donghyuck continued his hiccupy laugh, as he looked on at Tall Guy’s easy grin.

“Johnny, leave the kid alone.”

Doyoung appeared out of nowhere, a glass of what looked to be sparkling water in his hand. Donghyuck stood up, surveyed it closer, and wrinkled his nose. He fell back down on the couch with a whump. That definitely wasn’t just water in there.

“Hey! He’s my kid, I can bother him if I want,” Tall Guy-- Johnny-- sounded put-out.

“That’s true,” Donghyuck nodded, enthusiastically, “He’s my dad. My second dad,” he giggled. For some reason he found it really funny. “Dad number two.”

Doyoung sighed. Donghyuck giggled again. When Doyoung looked really done with those who surrounded him, Donghyuck could definitely see the familial resemblance with Jeno.

“Just-- make sure your son doesn’t drink too much, okay? I don’t want to be responsible for leading a youth astray.”

“Got it, sir!” Johnny saluted. This time, his erratic movements actually resulted in him hitting the guy beside him in the face.

The guy surged forward, blinking. Huh. Donghyuck had thought he was asleep, but he’d just been hanging out without speaking for a long time with his eyes closed.

“Ow?” Sleepy guy said, like he wasn’t sure if getting hit in the eye had hurt or not.

“Whoops, sorry, Jaehyun,” Johnny slapped the guy’s shoulder. With full force, going by the way the guy shuddered under the contact. Johnny grinned in a self satisfied way, “I was just saluting Doyoung.”

Sleepy Guy-- Donghyuck frowned. Johnny’d said his name, right? Wasn’t the guy named Jaehyun?-- Jaehyun nodded, satisfied with Johnny’s explanation for striking him in the face.

“Ah. Yeah. You’re cool, man,” Jaehyun slumped back against the couch, “Doyoung, man.”

“I’m literally right here,” Doyoung frowned at Jaehyun, who might have actually fallen asleep this time. Donghyuck was pretty sure he was softly snoring.

Doyoung turned to Donghyuck, who smiled brightly in an effort to differentiate himself from Jaehyun. He could pay attention properly. Doyoung stilled, looking at Donghyuck’s smile, then huffed a laugh.

“Anyways, when you’re done hanging out with Dumb and Dumber, the rest of us are about to start a round of King’s Cup, if you want to join. Or, like,” Doyoung made a face, “Watch. I meant watch. Don’t join us. Drinking games are irresponsible. What am I saying?”

Doyoung spun on his heel, and shook his head. He walked away, mumbling to himself. Donghyuck thought he caught Doyoung say ‘developing minds’ and ‘youths’ a few times.

Donghyuck laughed as he walked Doyoung go. He looked out of place in his own apartment, his pressed button down shirt looking amiss among the scattered red solo cups and empty beer bottles and cans. Everything was so funny.

“King’s Cup! Sorry, son, I gotta go” Johnny leapt up, listing slightly sideways as he took to his feet.

“Good luck!” Donghyuck called at his back.

Johnny turned, wobbling, and pointed two finger guns in the vague direction of the couch, “Thanks, kid!”

Donghyuck took another sip of his beer. He examined the label after, caught off guard by how good it tasted in comparison to the stuff he’d had from the kegs at the few house parties he’d been to. It actually tasted like something, not just backwash.

Doyoung and his friends let out a cacophony of hoots and cheers, as someone likely revealed something embarrassing or had to perform a humiliating act or something. Donghyuck smiled. His thoughts drifted to his friends, wondering if in just a few months’ time, they’d be in one of their apartments, playing a drinking game around a table.

Donghyuck snorted at the image. He wiped the condensation from the beer bottle off from one of his hands. He shifted, and pulled his phone out from his pocket.

He scrolled down in his messages, until he landed on the groupchat they rarely used anymore, the one without Chenle and Jisung. Everyone who would be graduating in a few weeks’ time.

to: renjun, jaemin, jeno

guysss

i cant wait til we’re at

college togeter

we’re gonna have os much fun

Donghyuck frowned down at the messages after he’d sent them. He’d made a few typos. He looked at his thumbs. They felt fatter than normal, but they didn’t look it. He was still frowning at his thumb for its deceptive appearance when he received a response.

from: renjun

lol you a little tipsy hyuck?

to: renjun, jaemin, jeno

just a lil :)))))

not enough to forget

how much i lveo you guys tho

from: renjun

lol thanks hyuck

love you too ♡

from: jaemin

love u hyuck ♡

now please stop distracting

renjun from our date

from: renjun

jaemin’s had my undivided

attention for hours

feel free to distract me further

Donghyuck looked at the clock at the top of his phone screen, was surprised to see it was already past eleven. He supposed that was a good sign for Renjun and Jaemin, that their date had gone on so long. His smile grew soft, as he indulged in his sappy thoughts about how long lasting their relationship might be, if their first date was going on so long.

It was with those sappy thoughts in mind that he typed out his next message.

to: renjun, jaemin, jeno

you two r goign to have

such beautiful babies

from: renjun

what?

from: jaemin

damn right we are

the most beautiful

from: renjun

????

Another uproar rose from the table of boys playing King’s Cup. Donghyuck looked over at the noisy bunch, wondering how Jeno was faring. He couldn’t see him at the table, the back of his head or his face, but he had to be there. He was also in the groupchat, after all. He had to be occupied in playing the game, or else he would’ve responded to Donghyuck’s message.

Satisfied with that, deciding that Jeno was probably holding his own against the college guys, Donghyuck looked back down at his phone. He navigated away from the chat with Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno. Though Renjun had given him permission to bother him, he didn’t want to bother them too much on their date.

His eyes lit upon another name in his messages. Donghyuck grinned, widely. Now there was someone he didn’t mind bothering.

to: mark

hey

hey

hey

what’s up

Mark replied instantaneously, because he always did. Donghyuck rested his head against the beer bottle in his hand. The cool glass served dual purposes, both providing support for his suddenly heavy head, and cooling down his overheated cheeks.

from: mark

Just getting some chores done.

Donghyuck’s eyes went again to the clock at the top of the screen. It was so late at night. When he woke in the morning, Mark was at work on lunch in the kitchen. When he went to sleep, Mark was getting chores done. And, now, late on a Saturday night, Mark was still working.

to: mark

do yuo ever get a brake?

from: mark

I have time to recharge, yes.

Donghyuck frowned. He was pretty sure that wasn’t the question he’d asked, not exactly. But the nuances were escaping him then, the intricacies lost in the slight buzz he had going on.

to: mark

o that’s good

from: mark

How’s the college party going?

to: mark

it’s fun!!!!

Donghyuck paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wondered… robots couldn’t get drunk, he was sure of it. Not off regular alcohol, anyways. But he’d love to see Mark drunk. He’d love to see him disarmed, randomly breaking out into fits of giggles. Because Donghyuck was sure that, if Mark could get drunk off anyhing, he would be that kind of drinker. The giggly kind.

Donghyuck thought of it, and the picture of it in his mind warmed him up more thoroughly than the shots of liquor he’d taken earlier had. He went and typed out the message he’d hesitated on.

to: mark

wish u were here tho

Mark’s reply wasn’t instant, this time around. Donghyuck frowned, wondering if his phone connection was poor. He checked, but, no, it was just fine.

from: mark

Me too.

I want to see what you look like,

when you’re enjoying yourself that much.

Donghyuck stared down at Mark’s message, barely comprehending it after several moments’ hard thinking. It was almost exactly what he’d thought only moments before, only it was different. Because, this time, it was Mark who wanted to see another side of him .

He froze, trying to think of an adequate response. But thinking quick just wasn’t in him. He sighed, thunking the phone against his forehead.

“Think, brain. Think,” he muttered.

Just as he was about to bring the phone back to his head, it was being taken hold of, and slipped out from his grasp.

“Oh, no you don’t,” someone said, startling Donghyuck.

Jaehyun was looking at him, unamused, holding firmly onto Donghyuck’s phone between his thumb and forefinger. As Donghyuck watched, still in his shock, the screen went dark.

“Why’d you take it?” Donghyuck whined, “I was texting someone.”

“I took it because you were texting someone,” Jaehyun shook his head, “Don’t drunk text.”

“But it was a cute boy,” Donghyuck pouted. He set aside the beer bottle in his hand so he could grab for the phone. Jaehyun only pulled it farther away, just out of Donghyuck’s reach.

“That’s even worse! Don’t drunk text cute boys!” Jaehyun gasped.

“But he’s really cute,” Donghyuck insisted. It was true. If Jaehyun knew that the boy Donghyuck wanted to text was Mark, then he’d understand.

“Nope. No. You’re not allowed to. I’m putting my foot down,” Jaehyun’s foot slid off the coffee table he’d been resting it on and landed with a sad thump onto the floor. Donghyuck watched the sorry display of stubbornness with a growing frown.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to protest, when Jaehyun spotted something that made his eyes light up.

“Johnny! Tell your son why it’s a bad idea to drunk text cute boys.”

Donghyuck looked and saw that the crowd had dispersed. The game of King’s Cup had reached its end, apparently. He looked for Jeno’s black hair, sure he’d back Donghyuck up and verify that it was okay to drunk text, really, when Mark was the recipient.

“Why would I do that? I’ve been texting Ten all night. Don’t make me lie to my son, my dear boy, my-- hey, what’s your name again, kid?”

Johnny turned to Donghyuck. Donghyuck didn’t hear his question initially, a bit preoccupied. He wasn’t seeing Jeno anywhere. And it wasn’t like there were that many people in the small open area of Doyoung’s apartment. It wasn’t like there were many places for Jeno to hide.

“I’m Donghyuck,” he said, distractedly. Then, he stood up and made a quick grab for his phone while Jaehyun was distracted by Johnny, “And I’m gonna go find my friend now.”

Phone retrieval successful, Donghyuck made a beeline for Doyoung, leaving Johnny and Jaehyun in the dust. Doyoung was in the midst of taking a comically oversized cup from a green-faced, red-haired guy. Doyoung eyed the cup with distaste, turning it over in his hands.

“What possessed Yuta to bring a White Russian to the table?”

“Dunno,” the red-haired guy moaned, dropping his head into his hands, “But Johnny’s vodka-gatorade mixer didn’t go well with milk.”

Donghyuck tapped on Doyoung’s shoulder, cutting him off before he could reply to his friend. A part of him wanted to hold back, to not be rude, but that part was awfully weakened in his inebriated state.

“Hey, where’s Jeno?”

Doyoung jumped, startled. He recovered quickly, pursing his lips and looking to Donghyuck, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Donghyuck apologized. He wasn’t sure if he meant it. His focus was singlemindedly fixed on locating Jeno. He’d thought his friend hadn’t replied to his messages because he’d been playing the drinking game with Doyoung and his friends. But Jeno hadn’t been playing the game with the rest of them.

The corners of Doyoung’s mouth dropped.

“He drank a bit too much too fast. I told him to sleep it off in my room-- hey!”

Donghyuck was already walking away, ready to test every door in the apartment until he found the one Jeno lay behind.

“Thanks!” he waved back.

“Don’t-- please don’t wake him up if he’s passed out, Donghyuck!”

Donghyuck ignored Doyoung’s shout.

“Chill out, dude, you’re gonna get stress ulcers or something.”

“Jung Jaehyun if you say the word ‘chill’ one more time, I swear to God I’ll--”

Donghyuck bypassed the first closed door-- he knew that to be the bathroom. He thought the second door he tried was a no-go, too. He opened it, and it was completely dark within. By the hallway light, he could tell that the bed inside the room was unmade, but bare.

Donghyuck frowned, mentally issuing an apology to Doyoung’s roommate, because he must’ve just walked into his room. He almost pulled the door shut, but then he heard a familiar voice in the dark.

“Hyuck?” a hiccup, “‘s that you?”

Chapter Text

Jeno was sitting on the ground, his fingers curled loosely around the neck of a bottle of some kind of clear alcohol. Donghyuck couldn’t make out what it was, not from the stripe of light that bled into Doyoung’s room from the hallway behind him.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he breathed. He hesitated, swallowing thickly. Jeno made a pitiful sight.

Donghyuck pulled the door closed behind him, plunging them into near darkness. The only sources of light in the room were the blue lights of all the devices on Doyoung’s desk, and the yellowed light from the cityscape beyond the room’s window. Donghyuck wondered if he ought to turn on a light but, looking at Jeno, he decided against it.

Donghyuck sat cross legged on the ground, facing Jeno.

“Are you…,” Donghyuck could barely complete the question, when the answer was already so clear, “...are you okay, Jeno?”

“Okay? ’M awesome,” he couldn’t see Jeno’s face, but he could hear the crack of his voice, belying his assurance as a lie.

“Oh. That’s good to hear.”

“What’re you doin’ all the way over there, Hyuck?” Jeno asked, his voice suddenly a notch louder, “Get over here.”

Jeno lifted his arm. Donghyuck hesitated again, then reminded himself that he and Jeno did that all the time. This was nothing new for them. It didn’t mean anything, not ever and not now. He crawled over and tucked himself under Jeno’s arm.

Jeno’s head immediately fell onto Donghyuck’s shoulder. He let out a lengthy exhale, his damp breath hitting the skin at Donghyuck’s collarbone, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Here, let me have that,” Donghyuck reached for the bottle, lifting it from Jeno’s hand, “you’ve had enough.”

And Donghyuck needed a bit more, he thought. He unscrewed the bottle cap, finding it already loose, and took a swig. He cringed, full body, the moment the taste hit his tongue. He gasped as the liquor poured down his throat, burning a path. It was some shitty kind of vodka. Donghyuck shook his head and set the bottle down. On second thought, he didn’t need anymore of that.

“Stop moving,” Jeno grumbled, his lips brushing up against Donghyuck’s bare skin. Donghyuck felt another tremor shake him.

“No,” he said, obstinately. “Tell me why you’re drinking alone in a dark room while there’s a party going on outside.”

“Hmm,” Jeno hummed, “No.”

Donghyuck bit his lip, and was silent, giving up just for a moment. He listened to the music pumping through the air, as he tried to fight through the slight haze in his mind for something to say. Doyoung didn’t favor bass-heavy music. He seemed to prefer slower, mellower R&B music. But, when filtered through the apartment’s walls, the thumping of the lowest tones was all Donghyuck could hear.

He let his head fall back, let it hit the soft mattress behind it.

“Does this have something to do with Renjun and Jaemin?” Donghyuck asked, to silence. Jeno sniffed and, for one moment, Donghyuck was sure he’d soon be crying. But Jeno only pulled back, to look at Donghyuck. His eyes shone, reflecting the blue lights from Doyoung’s desk.

“I should be happy for them, right?”

Donghyuck held his breath, deciding this wasn’t a moment for him to speak. Instead, he’d let Jeno continue without interruption. It seemed to be the right decision. Jeno nodded, in response to his own words, then carried on.

“I am,” Jeno said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself, “I wanted them to make up. I just… I didn’t think it’d be like this .”

Donghyuck knew Jeno well enough to be sure that Jeno was right-- he was happy about Renjun and Jaemin making up, even if he didn’t know it himself. When Jeno’s pause dragged on too long, Donghyuck prompted him.

“Like what?”

Jeno shook his head, slow and sluggish.

“As a couple,” he said, finally. Then, louder, more determined, “They’re gonna leave me behind, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck frowned, “They’re not.”

Renjun and Jaemin wouldn’t do that, not to Jeno. It was always the three of them, together, They were Jeno, Renjun, and Jaemin. Renjun and Jaemin becoming boyfriends wouldn’t change that, Donghyuck couldn’t believe that.

“Stop-- stop lying ,” Jeno’s voice was shaky, “They already have.”

Donghyuck’s frown deepened, “What do you mean?”

“Tonight. They were supposed to come with me tonight. But they’re off-- fucking... talking about their babies or whatever bullshit.”

Jeno’s voice was dripping with acidity, the bitterness unmissable despite the slur of his words. Donghyuck shifted uncomfortably. The bedframe was digging into his spine. He tried to think of the right thing to say to quell Jeno, to reassure him that everything would be going back to normal soon enough.

“They just became a couple… give them time, Jeno. You’ll see, everything’s gonna go back to the way it was.”
“Hyuck,” Jeno laughed, humorlessly, “you’re really something, y’know?”

Donghyuck didn’t know. He shifted again. No matter where he moved, the metal of the bedframe still dug into his back, a persistent ache.

“Everyone’s coupling up,” Jeno continued. He reached forward, and started to play with the hem of Donghyuck’s flannel outershirt.

“Renjun and Jaemin. Chenle and Jisung are gonna be next. What about us, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck watched, wide-eyed, as Jeno rubbed the worn flannel fabric between his finger and thumb. His heartbeat was starting to pick up pace, his muscles tensing.

“What do you mean-- us?” Donghyuck was finding it hard to breathe. It felt like something was climbing up his airways, clogging his throat.

“I mean,” Jeno’s hand closed into a fist on Donghyuck’s shirt, “you and me. Us. We could date too.”

Donghyuck could barely hear Jeno, could barely hear the bass filtered through the walls of the apartment. The blood rushing through his ears was so loud, clouding out all other sound.

“That’s a real stupid reason for us to date,” he said. Even his own voice sounded as if it was coming from the far end of a tunnel.

“Hm.”

Jeno tugged Donghyuck closer by his shirt, moving in as he pulled on Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s breath caught in his throat as Jeno stuck his face in the crook of Donghyuck’s neck. The bridge of Jeno’s nose was first to brush up against the sensitive skin there, then he moved his head, and Donghyuck felt his lips, still wet from the bottle of booze.

“What are you doing?” Donghyuck asked. He held completely still, paralyzed as if Jeno’s lips had stolen his capability to move upon contact.

“I’ve never kissed a boy before,” as Jeno murmured his confession, his lips moved. They brushed up against Donghyuck’s skin like a tickle, though he didn’t feel much like laughing, “But you’re kinda pretty like a girl, Hyuck.”

“Shut up, Jeno,” Donghyuck’s voice shook. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anger. It was probably some combination of the two, vying for dominance within him.

“Okay,” Jeno said, and Donghyuck realized his mistake when Jeno’s lips didn’t close when he’d finished speaking. He lay an open mouthed kiss on Donghyuck’s neck. The hot dampness of his tongue lathed at Donghyuck’s skin, sending an uncomfortable tremor throughout his body. Donghyuck felt sick, feverish.

The anger won out. Donghyuck wrenched himself from Jeno’s hold, knocking over the bottle of vodka.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about the vodka spilling out onto Doyoung’s nice carpet, or Jeno’s shocked face, fragile and broken. He didn’t fucking care. It was so hard to breathe, it felt like someone had their hands around his neck, slowly choking him out.

“Hyuck-- I’m sorry,” Jeno’s eyes shone, glazed and wet. He looked tiny on Doyoung’s bedroom floor, next to an upturned bottle of booze. “I… I don’t know why I did that. I’m so sorry.”

Donghyuck didn’t care. He shook his head, but he couldn’t disguise that his whole body was shaking.

“Fuck off, Jeno. I was just trying to be a good friend,” Donghyuck’s voice cracked.

“I know, Hyuck. I know you were,” Jeno moved to stand, but his legs seemed too wobbly, He collapsed back onto Doyoung’s bed. Donghyuck could barely tell in the low light, but he looked like he was going to be sick.

“Shit,” Jeno cursed, holding onto his head, “Damnit.”

On one last impulse, out of nothing but pity, Donghyuck picked up the wastebasket from under Doyoung’s desk and set it in front of Jeno.

“Doyoung’s gonna be pissed if you puke on his bed,” he said, by way of explanation, before drawing back immediately to the door. He didn’t think he could stand being closer to Jeno any longer than he had to, not when the proximity made his lungs feel like they were seizing up.

“Yeah,” Jeno looked up at Donghyuck, still holding his head, “thanks.”

“Fuck off,” Donghyuck bit out. Then he swept out of the room, shutting the door behind him with unnecessary force, hoping it made Jeno’s head hurt worse.

When Donghyuck went back into the living area, he found that most of the party had dissipated in the time he’d spent with Jeno. A few stragglers hung behind, engaged in conversation with Doyoung on the couch. Donghyuck bypassed them, going straight for the front door.

“Hey! Donghyuck, where are you going? Jeno told me you were staying the night,” Doyoung rose from the couch, already making his way over to Donghyuck.

“Nope,” Donghyuck said, simply.

Doyoung bit his lip, “At least let me call you a cab. I’ll wait with you until it arrives.”

He moved-- probably to go get his jacket or something, but Donghyuck stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“You should go check on Jeno. He looked like he was gonna be sick.”

Then, Donghyuck felt the first sense of calm he’d felt since Jeno had first asked him to come forward, into his arms. He said, firmly, “I’m gonna text my friend to pick me up.”

Doyoung’s eyes flitted from Donghyuck to the entrance of the hallway that led to his room. Donghyuck could see he’d gotten him from Doyoung’s brief moment of hesitation.

“Bye, Doyoung. Thanks for letting me come to your party. It was fun,” Donghyuck started towards the door. He didn’t wait for a response before leaving this time.

Once outside, in the unnatural fluorescent lighting of the apartment complex’s winding hallways, Donghyuck paused. He took a deep breath, then another. The effect wasn’t immediate, but with every breath he found it easier to inhale and exhale. The improvement was incremental, slow, but constant.

Doyoung’s apartment door opened, but before Donghyuck had the chance to panic and undo all of his efforts to regulate his breathing, a tall figure stepped out from behind it.

“I’ll wait for your friend with you,” Johnny said. He had an easy smile on his face, “This isn’t exactly a bad neighborhood, but there can be a lot of weirdos out at this time of night.”

Donghyuck didn’t know how, but he was able to crack a smile.

“Like you?”

Johnny laughed, throwing his head back, “Oof. That hurt. Betrayed by my own son.”

Donghyuck glanced over his shoulder as Johnny led him through the winding maze of the complex’s hallways to the elevator. He looked at Doyoung’s apartment door, and spared a thought for Jeno, that he’d gotten that desperate, that he’d stooped that far. That maybe he wasn’t the flawless, selfless friend Donghyuck had thought he was.

✶

Donghyuck hadn’t realized how close he felt to bursting out into tears until his laid his eyes on Mark. His face was full of concern, his eyes were taut with worry. Donghyuck took one look and had to look away again, out of fear he wouldn’t be able to hold back the sob that was threatening to claw its way up and out of him.

“What’s wrong, Donghyuck? I’ve been-- you didn’t say in your message.”

Mark’s voice was soft and as full of concern as his expression, as if Donghyuck was so fragile even a normal tone of voice would make him break apart into a million little pieces.

Donghyuck didn’t want that to be the case, but he did feel like he was barely hanging together. So he didn’t put together a reply. He only managed to shake his head.

“That’s fine,” Donghyuck hadn’t even managed to answer him, but Mark still sounded relieved, “That’s okay. It doesn’t matter what happened. You’re okay now.”

Donghyuck nodded. Breathing, at least, was coming easy to him now. He and Johnny had talked as they’d waited together on a bench for Mark to arrive. Over the course of the conversation, Donghyuck had found that he no longer had to remind himself to breath normally, that he’d fallen back into a natural pattern just answering Johnny’s questions and listening to Johnny’s stories.

They talked about Johnny’s crush in his design class. Johnny had pulled up the doodles he’d drawn of the boy, the ones he’d confessed he’d drawn instead of the designs he was supposed to be working on. Donghyuck had shared stories of his own crush, of Mark. And, as odd as it felt to bring Mark up so soon after what Jeno had done, even just talking about Mark had lifted Donghyuck’s mood.

Donghyuck had shared how long it had taken to work his way under the robot’s skin, but how he’d been taken with him right from the start. He shared how Mark had inadvertently played matchmaker between his two close friends. He talked about Mark’s sandwiches, about the ricotta smear. He’d even told Johnny about the moment earlier in the day, when Mark had called him beautiful.

Donghyuck’s gaze flicked from where it’d been fixed on a mote of dust on the dashboard to Mark. He had that crease between his brows again. Donghyuck knew he was the cause of it, wished they had the kind of closeness where he could reach forward, bridge the space between it, and thumb the crease away. Just brush the worry off from Mark’s forehead as easy as a smudge of cheese.

Donghyuck didn’t even try to be subtle as he gazed at Mark, with his eyelids heavy as he fought his exhaustion to stay awake.

Johnny, he remembered, had been fascinated about his feelings for a robot. Johnny hadn’t been judgemental, or dismissive. He’d said, aloud, that he thought it was possible to love a robot, and to be loved in turn. He had no hard evidence, he’d said, but he did have an anecdote.

Johnny had shared a story of his friend, a robot who’d worked his way to buying his own freedom. Johnny had laughed, and asked if Donghyuck had noticed there had been a robot at the party that night. Donghyuck had shook his head, stunned at the revelation. He hadn’t.

Johnny had laughed again, advising Donghyuck to pay closer attention next time he came to one of their parties.

“Taeyong’s a person, feelings and all, but he’s still got a lot to learn. He manages to lose at King’s Cup every single time we play. It’s honestly a talent.”

Johnny had made sure to get a good look as Mark drove up, throwing an indiscreet thumbs up Donghyuck’s way when he’d spotted the robot.

Donghyuck smiled to himself, as he recalled it. His father would probably be perturbed if he found out how Donghyuck felt about the family robot, but he’d at least gotten his adopted dad’s seal of approval.

“You’re smiling,” Mark said, breaking the silence of the car. When Donghyuck looked, he saw that Mark was smiling too. The crease between his brows had disappeared, just like that.

“I remembered something that happened earlier tonight.”

Mark’s eyes flitted over to Donghyuck’s. He’d never tire of how Mark’s eyes looked in the dark, at night, with only the lights faroff windows and further off stars shining at them. Their odd reflective quality, alien at first, now only sent Donghyuck’s heart off within him.

Johnny had mentioned love, Donghyuck recalled. Was that what this was?

“You’ll have to tell me about it, sometime.”

Donghyuck grinned, and nestled deep into his car seat. He was safe now, and the exhausting events of the night were taking their toll. His tiredness was drawing his eyelids closed.

“I will,” he promised.

He’d tell Mark all about the night, about Jeno, about Johnny. He’d even tell him about the robot who sucked at drinking games. Mark would probably laugh at that. But not now. Now, he was going to sleep. He was going to rest, safe and content in the knowledge that he had someone like Mark to watch over him.

✶

Donghyuck woke from a peaceful slumber to a text from Jeno. He frowned, but opened it without hesitation.

from: jeno

can we meet up today?

i understand if you don’t want to

Donghyuck set his phone down and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten to his bed. He only remembered falling asleep in the car on the way back. He looked, and saw his father’s flannel hung up on his bed post. Donghyuck guessed he must have found his way upstairs somehow, despite not remembering it.

He shook his head, and stretched, feeling grateful that Doyoung had limited his alcohol consumption the night prior. His head hardly ached at all.

Donghyuck glanced at his phone. Jeno probably wasn’t faring as well. He sighed, and composed a response.

to: jeno

yeah sure

is the park ok with you again?

Jeno responded so quickly, he had to have been standing by, watching his phone.

from: jeno

yeah of course!

of course it’s ok

cya soon hyuck

Donghyuck watched the little gray bubble indicating Jeno was typing another message blink on and off the screen. When no message looked to be incoming, he flicked his phone off and tossed it facedown onto his bed. He sighed, and looked at the shaft of sunlight that had somehow found its way through his curtains, painting a column of his room in bright light that stood out even more in contrast to the rest of his room, in shadows.

Donghyuck’s mother was in the kitchen, preparing her lunch, by the time Donghyuck finally emerged from his room.

“Hey, sweetie!” She greeted him, far too brightly, “Your father told me about your arcade date with Jeno. How’d that go?”

“Wasn’t a date,” Donghyuck said gruffly. He was parched. He shuffled to the cupboards to fetch himself a glass.

“Of course, darling,” his mother said indulgently. Donghyuck shot her a look out of the corner of his eye.

“It wasn’t,” Donghyuck filled his glass up at the fridge. Donghyuck had a brief, visceral vision of himself coming straight out with it, confessing precisely why Donghyuck wouldn’t have gone on a date with Jeno. That he had feelings for Mark, their robot butler.

He took a sip of water. He eyed his mother over the rim of the glass. She was frowning as she picked over her lunch. It looked nice, nicer than anything Donghyuck could remember having at home before Mark came along-- but it was in a tupperware container.

Leftovers, then. Something Mark had labored over the night before. Only to have to keep working, after. Slaving away, cleaning up dishes. Performing thankless tasks, fetching Donghyuck’s father’s beer. Polishing all the old wooden objects in the home, systemically, until long past everyone had fallen asleep.

Donghyuck set the glass of water down, harder than he’d intended, drawing his mother’s attention away from the food she had been picking over.

“Sweetie, you’ve been crushing on that boy for awhile now. It’s fine to celebrate.” She looked tired.

Donghyuck almost felt bad that he was probably about to make her feel a little bit worse. Almost.

“Hey, Mom. It wasn’t a date. I don’t like Jeno-- I haven’t for years!”

His mother dropped her fork into the tupperware. She was frowning, looked as if she was about to admonish Donghyuck the moment he paused for breath. So he didn’t pause.

“I like Mark,” he said, brightly. He laughed. That had felt better than he’d thought it would. It felt like a whole weight had been lifted off his chest. But it didn’t feel quite right. ‘Like’ felt flimsy. It paled in comparison to what he felt, when he looked at Mark. To how he felt, when he thought of Mark.

“Wait, no,” Donghyuck grinned, as he landed on the right word, “I love him.”

It was one thing to confess his love to a near-stranger in the night, all buzzed and emotionally unstable. It was another thing entirely to confess it to his mother, in broad daylight, sober as hell.

“I’m in love with the robot. Okay?”

Donghyuck watched his mother’s mouth drop open. She said nothing in response, looked to be at a loss for words. Donghyuck ran his hand through his hair, still feeling oddly weightless after his confession. His mother’s nonresponse hadn’t fazed him at all.

“Okay,” Donghyuck exhaled, answering his own question. He had a broad grin on his face, so wide his cheeks hurt.

He started for the garage door, lifting his keys from their hook by the door.

“I’m going out to the park with Jeno-- not on a date! I’m still in love with Mark,” Donghyuck laughed again, wondering if he’d ever tire of saying that phrase, if it’d ever stop making his heart race.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” he assured her, as he cracked open the door, “Please don’t tell Mark what I told you, okay? I want to tell him myself.”

Chapter Text

Jeno was seated on the park bench facing the playground when Donghyuck walked up. He wondered how long he had kept Jeno waiting. He felt a twinge of guilt, at the thought of making him wait, but just a twinge.

“What’s up?” Donghyuck greeted. Jeno’s eyes were drawn up from his hands, where they lay twiddling in his lap.

Jeno looked at him, his eyes wide. He seemed to be surprised to see Donghyuck. Donghyuck shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know why Jeno would be surprised. Donghyuck had told him he’d meet him at the park, after all.

“Hyuck,” Jeno said, a myriad of emotions packed into that one single word. Donghyuck got the feeling that he was about to launch into another string of apologies. He sighed, and cut him off before he could get started.

“That’s me.”

He dropped onto the bench, intentionally sitting his usual distance from Jeno. No farther, no closer.

“Hyuck, I’m sorry,” Jeno blurted out, in a rush, making Donghyuck wince.

“So you said,” Donghyuck squinted. The afternoon sun was almost warm enough to make him regret wearing a hoodie. He pushed the sleeves up past his elbows. That would have to do.

“I’ll keep saying it. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Donghyuck turned to Jeno, looking at him with eyes still narrowed from staring out at the bright landscape, “I just wanna know why you did it.”

Jeno paused as if, somehow, he hadn’t expected that question at all. Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Jeno said, finally, frowning, “I don’t know, Hyuck.”

“Sorry, but that’s crap,” Donghyuck sighed, crossing his arms and taking his eyes off Jeno. He was growing impatient, getting too frustrated with Jeno’s continued excuses.  Donghyuck took a measured inhale.

“I just want an actual explanation. I don’t need another apology.”

“That’s all it’s gonna take for you to forgive me?” Jeno shook his head in his disbelief.

Donghyuck snorted.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

When Jeno laughed, it was nervous and tentative, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed, “Right.”

“Well?” Donghyuck prompted.

As he waited, he turned his gaze to the playground. There were still children playing on it. Though the sun was hanging high in the sky and it had to be getting a bit warm for running about, the kids didn’t care. Neither did their robot caretaker. Unperturbed by the heat, she chased one cackling kid around the playscape, through swingsets and under monkey bars.

“I guess..,” Jeno spoke up, “...I guess I was afraid-- still am, honestly.”

“Of what?”

Donghyuck already knew, but he didn’t know how much Jeno remembered of the night before. He was surprised Jeno even remembered that he’d come onto Donghyuck. With as much as he drank, the whole conversation should have been a blank spot in his memory.

“Of being lonely,” Jeno inhaled, sharply.

Donghyuck glanced from the kids playing to Jeno. He saw that Jeno wasn’t looking at him at all. Instead, Jeno’s eyes were cast downwards, to the dirt at his feet.

“It’s stupid and selfish, but I can’t shake the thought that Renjun and Jaemin finally getting together’s gonna mean the end of the three of us. It’s inevitable, though,” Jeno looked up from the dirt, his eyes wide, “I should just accept it, right?”

It was just what Jeno had hinted at before. Donghyuck was getting flashbacks to the night before. At least Jeno wasn’t slobbering onto his neck this time.

“It’s not inevitable.”

It was the only reassurance he would offer Jeno-- was the only one he could offer.

Jeno nodded. His shoulders rose, straightening out of a slump Donghyuck hadn’t noticed until it was gone.

“Anyways. I guess I thought. If I got a girlfriend or like,” he pressed his lips together, “... a boyfriend then I’d at least have someone, even if I couldn’t have them. And you were there.”

That stung. Donghyuck didn’t like Jeno anymore, not even a vestige of his crush remained. But still, it would’ve stung to hear anyone say the same. Jeno had kissed him just because he happened to be there.

Donghyuck laughed, suddenly. He supposed it was better than the alternative scenario he’d constructed-- that, somehow, Jeno had found out about Donghyuck’s old feelings for him, and was hoping to take advantage of that.

Jeno smiled nervously. Donghyuck’s unexpected outburst of laughter seemed to disconcert him.

“Did I say something funny? Why are you laughing?”

Donghyuck shrugged, “I guess I’m relieved?” He turned to Jeno, smiling, “Thanks for the explanation. But you got one thing wrong.”

Jeno frowned, “I did?”

“You do have them. You never lost them. And you have Chenle and Jisung too,” Donghyuck sighed a put upon sigh, and rolled his eyes, “And I guess you have me. Not right now, mind you. I’m still pissed at you. But I suspect I’ll come around soon enough.”

A tentative yet genuine grin spread across Jeno’s face, “Really?”

Donghyuck scrunched up his nose, and sniffed. He fell back against the bench, turning his gaze to the playground once more.

“Really.”

The android had caught up to the kid she was chasing. She held the wriggling, giggling toddler in her arms. In the afternoon sun, the smile on her face as she scolded the child was unmistakable.

All of the relief that had filled him after his conversation with Jeno became a distant memory the moment Donghyuck drove up their driveway and spotted Mark at work in the front lawn. Donghyuck realized that he had no idea what his mother might have shared with Mark from their morning conversation, if she’d said anything at all.

Donghyuck slipped out his car and paused, hesitating as he watched Mark’s progress across the lawn. He wasn’t ashamed that he loved the robot. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready for Mark to know how he felt about him yet.

“Yo, Mark!” Donghyuck called over the loud roar of the lawnmower, before he had the chance to second guess himself.

When Mark didn’t turn immediately, Donghyuck sighed. He waved his arm and shouted, louder the second time, “Mark!”

He could see the instant Mark noticed him, the transformation on his face as it went from neutral, focused to something bright, something just for Donghyuck. Mark grinned, cutting the mower’s power.

“Donghyuck. Hello.”

They stood, for a moment, at an impasse. Donghyuck wanted to just come right out with it and ask Mark. He wanted to have the courage to just go up to Mark and ask, Hey, are you by chance aware that I’m in love with you?

He was constructing some alternative question, one that was subtle enough that if Mark didn’t already know, he wouldn’t be clued in. Then, Mark laughed.

“I’ve never seen you think that hard before. You look so serious,” Donghyuck looked at him, confused. Mark pointed at himself, “You could even pass for a robot.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

“Dunno about that. I only know one robot and I don’t think he knows how to be serious.”

Despite his words, a smile was fighting its way onto Donghyuck’s face. His heart was still beating far faster than it ought to have been. But Mark was acting normally, cracking lame jokes that Donghyuck found more funny than he had any justification to. He was starting to feel at ease.

Donghyuck walked up to Mark, close enough that he felt he’d have to squint from viewing his smile so close.

“I gotta ask you something,” Donghyuck blurted out, before he’d even thought of what he wanted to say.

Mark cocked his head, still grinning, still making Donghyuck’s heart flutter. Some cowardly part of Donghyuck told him he didn’t have to say anything, not now. Why risk it, when he could wait? He could bide his time, get to know Mark, as Mark got to know himself. He could wait, until he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mark felt the same.

It was that fear, that hesitation, that led Donghyuck to tread carefully, to start off with:

“Mark, can you feel?”

Mark pressed his lips together, as his gaze drifted from Donghyuck. He paused, just long enough to make Donghyuck start to worry that he hadn’t been as subtle as he had hoped.

“That’s a difficult question,” Mark’s eyes slid back to Donghyuck, “Why are you asking?”

Donghyuck cursed internally.

“There was a ‘bot at the party I went to last night. He could,” Donghyuck quickly spun an excuse.

“Oh,” Mark said, and there was a dissonant note in his voice that hadn’t been there before, something small and fragile.

“I think I can feel things,” Mark then smiled, self-deprecating, “Though I’m not always able to identify what it is I’m experiencing.”

“Huh,” Donghyuck said, distantly, his mind already reeling. He could barely tamp the rising hope within him, the surging impulsive side of him, rushing forward, crowding out the cowardly part telling him to hold back and wait.

“I’m kinda new to this,” Mark explained, sheepishly, misreading Donghyuck’s silence.

“No, it’s cool!” Donghyuck hurried to say. Then, immediately following, he felt his face heat. He could only hope Mark would let it pass by without comment. He just hadn’t wanted Mark to feel ashamed, not when he had nothing to be ashamed about.

“Cool?” Mark zeroed in on it, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Oh my God, let me live,” Donghyuck groaned, his eyes falling to the ground. At least Mark didn’t look embarrassed anymore. That was a bright side, he thought, desperately. His cheeks were probably bright red.

“I’m honored you think I’m... cool,” Mark’s voice was higher, lifted with poorly smothered laughter. Donghyuck couldn’t look up at him, not while keeping his ego intact, but he’d bet anything that Mark was smiling, all smug and frustratingly attractive.

“I was clearly talking about the fact that you’re feeling things, not you.” Donghyuck directed his sullen defense to his sneakers, “You’re still a loser.”

He heard a noise, a joyful sound that sent his heart skyward even if he was the unfortunate subject of it. Mark, laughing.

“It really wasn’t that funny,” Donghyuck intoned.

Then, his heart might as well have stopped altogether. Mark’s touch, warm and steady and soft, landed on his chin. With a single loosely curled finger, Mark tilted Donghyuck’s head up.

The contact was brief, just a split second of skin on skin, but Donghyuck felt Mark’s touch on his chin even after he had pulled away. Mark was so close, Donghyuck realized.

He froze, as he looked into Mark’s eyes.

“Admit I’m cool, Donghyuck. Come on.”

Donghyuck opened his mouth to say-- God, he didn’t know what. Donghyuck had probably meant to say something just along the lines of ‘yes, Mark, you’re the coolest please kiss me now’-- but then sudden, subtle movement by the side of Mark’s head caught his eye and silenced him.

Over Mark’s shoulder, in full view through the wide windows of their living room, was Donghyuck’s mother. She was standing, walking towards the window. She was craning her neck to watch them. Donghyuck couldn’t catch her expression, not through the reflection of the window’s glass. But just seeing his mother and knowing she was there, watching, was enough to shock some sense into him.

Donghyuck shook his head. It was only by how relieved he felt at not saying something and accidentally revealing the depth of his feelings for Mark that Donghyuck decided he wasn’t ready to say anything more to Mark about it, not then.

He smiled, hoping it rang true to Mark despite how unsteady it felt.

“Nah, still a loser, sorry.”

Mark didn’t pick up on Donghyuck’s shift in mood. He was still smiling, wide and bright and beautiful enough to make Donghyuck’s heart ache.

“I’ll get you to say it someday. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Never gonna happen!” Donghyuck imbued his words with false levity. He started to inch away, as he began another cowardly retreat.

Donghyuck frowned, as he left a still laughing Mark to head to the house’s front door. His mother was still at the window, watching. For some reason, the sight of her still silhouette in the glass made the hairs at the back of Donghyuck's neck stand up.

✶

It was early morning, but Mark wasn’t in the kitchen. Donghyuck stretched and yawned, but even after he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he couldn’t see his robot. Donghyuck frowned. It wasn’t like Mark was always in the kitchen when he ate breakfast, but he always made sure to at least drop in before Donghyuck left for school.

Donghyuck spotted a lunchbag on the counter and, just like that, his frown was gone. He rushed to the bag, and was even happier to see that Mark had left a note. He grinned.

Donghyuck -- your father needed me for something. Looks like you’ll need to endure the drive all by yourself today.

And then, right at the end of the note, Mark had drawn a small smiley face.

✶

Donghyuck’s day had been strange. From the reshuffling of seats, in class and at lunch, in service of Renjun and Jaemin’s newly minted relationship. From Jeno acting awkward and stilted around him. From Chenle and Jisung, oblivious to it all, still teasing Donghyuck lightheartedly.

Donghyuck paused, at the door to the kitchen. He formed an ‘o’ with his lips and blew out a huff of air, tousling his bangs. After Renjun had left lunch early and Jaemin had bolted up and offered to carry his things for him, Chenle had called them cute. That would’ve been unremarkable on its own.

But then, he’d asked Donghyuck when he was going to get a boyfriend to carry his bag for him. And-- Donghyuck felt echoes of the panic he’d felt then-- Jisung had replied that Donghyuck already had one. He was just at Donghyuck’s house doing robot-y things, at that moment.

Donghyuck shook his head, and reached for the door handle, hesitating right before his hand was to make contact, then grabbed it, and turned.

Donghyuck let out a sigh of relief when he spotted a single solitary figure in the kitchen, familiar in his crouch over the counter top. He’d be able to unload the day’s awkward events with Mark-- Renjun and Jaemin, Chenle and Jisung, Jeno’s discomfit, everything save Jisung’s comment. They could talk through it, like they always did.

“Hey, Mark,” he greeted, smile on his face just at the sight of the robot.

Mark didn’t straighten upon Donghyuck’s greeting, though. He didn’t look up with a wide grin on his face and say Hello, Donghyuck, as he always did. Donghyuck’s smile went tentative. Maybe Mark hadn’t heard him.

Donghyuck walked over to Mark, “Uh... what’re you up to there?”

Mark turned his head in one smooth motion as Donghyuck approached. Donghyuck stumbled as he walked. Mark’s face was devoid of emotion, as blank as the day he and Donghyuck had first met. A sense of creeping dread filled Donghyuck.

Mark stood up and fixed him with a blank stare, stopping Donghyuck in his tracks.

“I apologize. Were you speaking to me?”

Mark spoke in a complete monotone, bereft of any hint of emotion.

Donghyuck nodded, uncertainly, “Y-yeah. I was,” he swallowed, his tongue feeling thick, “What’s up with you, Mark? Why are you acting like this?”

Maybe, he thought, Mark was teasing him again. Playing a prank. Donghyuck attempted to smile, but it came out wobbly.

“...Mark?”

Mark’s eyes flashed bright with color. He clasped his hands together at the small of his back, gazing coolly at Donghyuck. Alarm sirens went off in Donghyuck’s head. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. Mark wasn’t supposed to look like that, not when he was looking at Donghyuck.

“My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three.”

Donghyuck shook his head. He was dreaming. This wasn’t happening-- it had to be a nightmare.

“No. Your name’s Mark,” Donghyuck’s voice was trembling, “Please stop,” he pleaded, “This isn’t funny.”

Mark cocked his head, staring unblinking at Donghyuck with that awful lack of expression on his face. Donghyuck hated it. Donghyuck hated Mark, in that moment, for not showing a single hint of emotion, for looking at Donghyuck and not showing anything at all. Like he didn’t know Donghyuck at all, like Donghyuck meant nothing to him. Mark’s eyes flashed technicolor.

“You appear to be in distress. Do you need me to call for help?”

Donghyuck bit his lip to stop it from wobbling. He shook his head. Who would he get Mark to call, anyways, when the only person who could make Donghyuck feel better was the one staring at him like he didn’t even know him?

Donghyuck shut himself in his room and locked the door. He couldn’t bear being in the same room as Mark-- as that thing, that looked exactly like him, but acted nothing the same. Donghyuck still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t some overextended nightmare. That he wouldn’t wake up again, plod downstairs and find Mark waiting for him with a smile on his face.

Donghyuck swiped at his runny nose with his hoodie sleeve. He glanced through the crack in his bedroom curtains, at the cloudy, murky evening sky. He wondered if he’d been too cowardly, yet again. If he could have pushed Mark further, if he could have been braver and not ran. Maybe he could have ignited some spark of the Mark he knew with more persistent efforts. He wondered helplessly if he’d given up too easily, like always.

A knock at his door made him jump.

“Who is it?” he called. He pawed at his eyes with his non-snotty sleeve, frowning at the wet patches he saw on the fabric when he drew his hand back.

“Gamma-eight-six-five-seven,” answered a voice that should have been familiar, but sounded almost foreign with its lack of any intonation.

Donghyuck was ashamed at how fast he ran to his door. He opened it. Instead of stepping inside like he’d been expecting him to, Mark continued to stand, as still as if he were a statue, in the hallway. He levelled his blank gaze at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck sniffed again, feeling tears prick at his eyes again and blinking hard to clear them out before they had the chance to fall. He didn’t want the thing standing in front of him to see him cry, not when this Mark wouldn’t care at all. Hell, he’d probably just ask him again if he needed emergency services.

“What do you want?” Donghyuck gritted out.

“Your parents would like to know if you’ll be joining them for dinner.”

Donghyuck paused. His parents. He wondered how he hadn’t considered going to them before, asking them for help with Mark. Because clearly Mark was glitching. Even if they weren’t as close with Mark as Donghyuck was, surely they’d at least be concerned that their robot was malfunctioning. Donghyuck nodded, to himself. Yes. His parents would help. They’d be able to find a way to fix Mark, to make him go back to what he was, to make him remember Donghyuck.

Donghyuck’s heart picked up its pace. He wondered how quickly after discovering the existence of the problem that his parents would be able to find a solution. Soon, probably. Maybe even before the night was out. A tentative excited smile fought its way onto Donghyuck’s face.

He looked up at the odd Mark, the blank Mark. His eyes, dark and devoid of sheen. Donghyuck surged forward to grab blank Mark’s hand, caught up in his excitement.

“C’mon, let’s go get you fixed, Mark.”

“My designation is--.”

“--I don’t care. ”

Donghyuck’s mother and father were seated at the kitchen table when he raced downstairs, Mark’s hand held stiff in his.

“Sweetie…” Donghyuck’s mother looked down to their intertwined hands, her lips pursed.

“Mom, I think something’s wrong with Mark,” Donghyuck cut her off. The quicker he could explain, the quicker they’d be able to fix it, “He keeps acting like he doesn’t know me. He’s acting like.. like he doesn’t have feelings, or something.”

Mark wrenched his hand out of Donghyuck’s, and Donghyuck looked down to his now bereft hand, startled. Mark drew away, to a wall, and crossed his arms behind his back again. Donghyuck felt something clench in his heart. He shook his head, at himself, and looked up from his hand.

“See. He keeps acting like... that!” Donghyuck stared searchingly at his mother, imploring her to see the urgency of the moment, his need for help. He couldn’t figure Mark’s sudden change on his own. And she knew how he felt about Mark.

Donghyuck’s mother’s eyed had gone wide and pitious. She sighed, and turned to Donghyuck’s father.

“Len.” She called on her husband, then flicked her eyes significantly over to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck watched, in increasing confusion. They didn’t appear alarmed at all at Mark’s inexplicable behavior. They should have been more freaked out, as far as Donghyuck was concerned.

“Duckie,” Donghyuck’s father began, his voice sheepish and small. Donghyuck turned to him, feeling lost. Donghyuck’s father frowned, “You have to understand. We did it for your sake.”

Donghyuck felt a frown grow on his face, matching his father’s as his confusion grew. His parents had done… what? for his sake.

Donghyuck glanced at Mark, standing still as a statue at the perimeter of the room, staring blankly out into space. He looked back to his parents, to the guilty and pitious looks they were sending him.

Maybe they weren’t at all surprised about Mark’s sudden amnesia for a reason, Donghyuck realized. Something slotted into place in his mind with a sickening shock.

Maybe they even had something to do with it.

“What did you do?” Donghyuck asked hollowly. He didn’t want to make baseless accusations, especially when it came to his family, to Mark. His heart ache, the hurt in his chest that had started when he’d laid eyes on Mark’s expressionless face, grew sharper.

“What did you do to Mark?”

“Sweetie,” Donghyuck’s mother sounded hesitant, “we weren’t going to do anything at first, when it just looked like it was going to be a crush.”

“But then the robot started to encourage you…” Donghyuck’s father weighed in. He was shaking his head. Donghyuck looked back and forth between the two of them, as they traded off talking. He moved mechanically, as the ache in his chest grew and grew.

“And you started to get crazy ideas-- ideas that you loved the thing!” Donghyuck’s mother tittered nervously, “Absurd!”

“I do, though,” Donghyuck intervened, speaking over his mother. He looked at Mark, blank Mark. Mark standing, unmoving, not looking at him, not seeing him at all. Donghyuck swallowed, as he stared at his emotionless face, “I love him.”

Donghyuck’s mother tsked, disappointed. Donghyuck’s father started speaking, not acknowledging Donghyuck had said anything at all. He curled his lip in apparent distaste

“Then it said that inappropriate thing to you the other night.”

Donghyuck cast his mind back, trying to recall what exactly Mark might’ve said that would warrant that kind of disgust from his father. He remembered a moment, one where his father had been upset about a comment Mark had made.

“Are you talking about when he said I was beautiful?” Donghyuck asked, in disbelief. It seemed impossible that his father could find the same words that’d made him so happy inappropriate.

Donghyuck’s father’s nostrils flared. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to.

Donghyuck’s sorrow and shock started to ebb away, as indignation and anger washed in. His helpless feeling faded, as anger worked its way under his skin like an irritating itch.

“People would have started to talk, if we’d let things go on the way they were…,” Donghyuck’s mother sounded doubtful, as if she was only trying to reinforce something she’d been trying to tell herself. Her words, tentative and unsure, only made Donghyuck angrier.

“Then fucking let people talk!”

“Donghyuck. Watch your language,” Donghyuck’s father growled, and it had none of the usual playfulness he tried to inject when he admonished Donghyuck for swearing.

Donghyuck looked in disbelief from his mother to his father-- that he could focus on Donghyuck cursing at that time, like that was important at all.

Donghyuck looked at the place that had been set out for him on the table, the prepared food steaming and all laid out across the tabletop. It had probably all been done by Mark. He felt sick.

“I’m going to my room,” he said, suddenly.

He’d lost his appetite. He couldn’t imagine being able to share a table with his parents, like nothing had changed, like they hadn’t just gone and-- done whatever it is they had to Mark. Reset him, erased his memories. Erased him, and everything he was.

Donghyuck stalked away, ignoring his parents' disappointed looks. He glanced at Mark’s blank face before realizing that might not have been the best decision. It only made him feel more nauseated.

Donghyuck shut his bedroom door carefully so as not to let it slam. Then, he collapsed against it and slid to the ground. He put his head in his hands and tried desperately to think of some bright side, some silver lining, some way to right the wrong that his parents had done. He was coming up empty.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck froze when he walked into the kitchen the next morning and saw Mark. Then, Mark didn’t raise his head and acknowledge him, not even after he waited a moment, then another. Donghyuck had to remind himself that that was the way things were, now. He took a deep, shaky breath. And kept walking. Donghyuck reached for a granola bar. He watched Mark out of the corner of his eye as he skirted around him to get to the cupboard. Mark didn’t react at all to his closer proximity.

Donghyuck exhaled, too soft to be a proper sigh, when he reached the door. He looked back, at Mark’s frame, still as he chopped vegetables at the counter.

“Aren’t you going to offer to drive me to school?” Donghyuck asked.

At last, Mark moved. He turned to look at Donghyuck. His eyes flashed, subtly bright and colored, as if someone had directed a ray of light in them. Donghyuck really didn’t remember them lighting up like that before Mark had had his memory wiped.

“Do you want me to drive you to school?” Mark asked, and every intonation-free word another addition to the ache in Donghyuck’s chest.

Donghyuck looked up, and up. Away from Mark’s expressionless face, to the ceiling. He bit his lip, then shook his head.

“No.”

Mark left it at that. He didn’t press further. He simply nodded, and turned back to his chopping board.

Donghyuck wished he hadn’t gotten in the habit of listening to throwbacks whenever he rode in his car with Mark. Every oldie that came on reminded Donghyuck of him. But then that was better than the silence, being left alone with his thoughts. When left alone with his thoughts, he always ended up wondering what he could have done differently, to keep Mark safe and whole.

“Aw. Did Mark forget to pack you a lunch today?”

Chenle nodded up at the tray in Donghyuck’s hands. He frowned, sympathetic. Donghyuck shrugged, hoping Chenle would leave it at that. He’d thought the lunches Mark made him were part of his basic tasks, but apparently not.

“Pretty sure Mark can’t forget things,” Jisung snorted, “He’s a robot, dude.”

Donghyuck exhaled, sharply. Jisung couldn’t have known, not without Donghyuck saying anything, but his words still incited a twinge of pain in Donghyuck’s chest all the same.

Donghyuck glanced around, cautiously, to make sure his gasp had escaped his friends’ notices. Chenle was eyeing Jisung with a reluctant smile, like he regretted finding Jisung’s observations as amusing as he did. Renjun and Jaemin were caught up in their own world.

Only Jeno was looking at Donghyuck. When Donghyuck’s eyes landed on him, Jeno stared at him for a beat, his brows lowered. Only to then glance away after a moment, down at his own tray of food. Donghyuck frowned. At any other point in their friendship, Jeno would’ve probably confronted him about his nonresponses. Jeno would have asked annoying questions about what was bothering him.

But Jeno was still hesitant, still treading lightly because he’d messed up at the party, and he was feeling bad. Donghyuck didn’t like Jeno’s mistake being the only reason he wasn’t bothering him. Donghyuck wanted Jeno to push him, to ask him about Mark. He wanted an excuse to shout. He jabbed at the rehydrated slush that served as cafeteria food with his spork, missing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches more than he ever thought he would.

Mark was on his hands and knees in the front flower bed when Donghyuck arrived home from school. Donghyuck stilled as he stepped out of his car. He reshouldered his backpack, deliberating. Then, despite knowing the interaction would be futile and that he’d come out of it feeling even more hopeless and hollow, Donghyuck shuffled over to the flower bed.

“Hey, Mark,” he called, one hand in his hoodie pocket.

Without looking up from the weeds he was pulling, Mark corrected tonelessly, “My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Donghyuck sighed. Mark really didn’t want Donghyuck calling him Mark. “You know, you say that enough times, maybe I’ll finally be able to remember it.”

Mark paused. He sat back on his heels, looking blankly at Donghyuck. It still made that ache twinge in Donghyuck’s chest, every time he saw Mark’s face looking like that.

“My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three. My designation is--.”
Donghyuck laughed helplessly, humorlessly.

“I didn’t mean to literally do it. Oh my God.”

Donghyuck crouched down to look at Mark eye-to-eye, slinging off his backpack, letting it land with a thump on their perfectly manicured front lawn.

Mark’s eyes followed his movement. He blinked his blank eyes, and it was the first alteration Donghyuck had seen to his face through the entire conversation. Donghyuck had never really known how telling Mark’s facial expressions were, until he’d lost all of them.

“What did they do to you?” Donghyuck mused aloud, peering at Mark’s face.

How had his parents found it so easy to wipe him blank? They’d had no regard for the being that had already accumulated memories and feelings and friends and preferences in just a few weeks time out in the world.

Mark had no answer for him, even if he were capable of giving one. He just gazed at Donghyuck, dead-eyed.

The longer Donghyuck looked at Mark’s unchanging face, the harder it was to keep his own straight.

“Shit,” Donghyuck cursed, under his breath.

He looked away, down. Mark’s hands were covered in soil from the flowerbed, his fingernails encrusted with dirt. Donghyuck recalled how it had felt when Mark had brushed his hair aside. How Mark had smiled at him, after.

“Are you even still in there?”

Donghyuck guessed his parents were trying to be understanding. After the first time, they hadn’t sent Mark to fetch him to come down for dinner again. Donghyuck frowned. Though, he supposed, if his parents actually cared about being understanding they wouldn’t have erased Mark to begin with.

Donghyuck set down his tablet, kneading his aching eyes. Burying himself head deep in his schoolwork wasn’t helping to distract him from Mark at all. Jeno had sent him a text earlier, tentative, asking a vague “everything good?”. Donghyuck had just responded with a thumbs up.

He looked at his phone, at the dark screen. Jeno was probably burning with curiosity, if he’d managed to get over his guilt enough to message Donghyuck.

A knock at Donghyuck’s door. He was almost tempted to act as if he’d already fallen asleep, and couldn’t hear it. Almost.

“It’s unlocked.”

The door opened, and Mark walked through without pause, without asking if he could. Donghyuck bit his lip, readjusting how he was seated on his bed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Mark was holding a plate.

“Your mother asked me to bring you food,” Mark said, and Donghyuck didn’t doubt it. This Mark wouldn’t do anything he hadn’t been explicitly ordered to do.

“Oh. Thanks,” Donghyuck said.

There was an awkward moment. A one-sided awkward moment, at last, because Mark probably couldn’t sense the shift in atmosphere. Only Donghyuck. For a moment, Mark said and did nothing and Donghyuck said and did nothing. Mark before the wipe would have laughed, said something just as awkward and endearing that somehow would’ve filled the moment, warmed it.

This Mark just stood there.

“You can put the plate on my desk,” Donghyuck said, finally, when the awkward tension in the air grew to an almost palpable weight on his chest.

Mark immediately nodded and did as he was told. Donghyuck’s discomfort wasn’t alleviated. If anything, he just felt more uneasy. Mark had just been waiting for an order, that’s all that moment was. So why had it felt so loaded?

Donghyuck waited until after Mark had closed the door behind him, leaving without any parting words, to move. He untucked his feet from under himself and walked over his desk, stomach growling.

He pressed his hand to his stomach, to silence it. Then looked at what Mark had brought him. A plate of green apple slices, arrayed in a circle.

Donghyuck picked the plate up, just looking at it, frozen at the sight. His heart lurched. Then, he dashed outside his room, plate in hand. Thankfully, Mark had only reached the hallway’s end.

“Mark!” he shouted.

Mark stopped, paused. He turned, minutely, only enough that his next words would be perfectly audible to Donghyuck.

“My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three.”

“I know, ” Donghyuck said, impatient, “and I still don’t care.”

He raised the plate, indicating its contents, “Did my mom tell you to bring me an apple?”

He probably sounded crazy. He definitely felt crazy, desperately questioning a blank-faced robot about the choice of snack he’d brought up to him.

“No.”

In the unlit hallway, Mark’s reflective eyes stood out as the primary source of light, two unchanging opals flashing in the dark.

“Then, why did you…?” Donghyuck trailed off, looking back down to the plate of apple slices.

When he looked back up, Mark was gone.

Donghyuck drew back into his room, closing the door softly shut behind him. He frowned, then took a bite of one of the apple slices. His frown deepened. A tart taste, sour enough to make his lips pucker then, just as he was about to swallow, a rush of sugary sweet.

Donghyuck lay in bed, long past when he had turned out the lights. He couldn’t fall asleep. His thoughts were going wild.

He shifted, rolling over onto his side to stare at the plate, empty, on his desk.

Donghyuck reached for his phone, and opened up an incognito window. He tried to think of some way to phrase what he was thinking, some short composition of words that could encompass everything that Mark was, before Donghyuck’s parents had gotten him wiped, and everything Mark was after.

He frowned, as he typed in ‘ bot remembering things after reset’. That sucked. It’d have to do.

Donghyuck thumbed through the results, past the news articles, the headlines about the increasing number of androids being brought back to stores for resets. Past an ad listing, one barely even related to his search, just reading ‘Bot acting up? We’ll look into it!’. Finally, he found a forum post, a question from a user who was concerned about their robot remembering things even after they’d taken them for a reset.

user028302 asked: Hypothetically, if a bot witnessed an event and was then subsequently reset, would the bot still retain any memories of said event?

hawksrock answered: lol did ur bot see u off someone? wicked

Donghyuck felt a twist in his gut. People were awful. And maddeningly unhelpful. Donghyuck scrolled further down the forum page, to the next answers.

MissEffie36 answered: Your android won’t be able to recall anything prior to their reset. Their memory storage is solely offline. Source: I interned at one of those big companies for a couple years

trumann_ answered: no. this is literally the fourth question on nctech’s faq page..  link: https://www.nct.com/frequently-asked-questions.html

Donghyuck felt something dip within him, as he clicked through the link to NCTech’s website. The answer confirmed what the forum users had already said. There was no way robots could remember things if they had been reset. Donghyuck sighed, staring down at his phone screen. He probably was going crazy, then. The apple meant nothing. Donghyuck was just grasping at straws.

✶

Jeno wasn’t exactly subtle in his attempts to check in on Donghyuck. Donghyuck rolled his eyes as Jeno looked up from the library computer he was using to glance at Donghyuck for the millionth since the start of the study period.

Donghyuck listlessly drew a finger across the hologram he had pulled up of their city’s downtown area, sending the towering skyscrapers spinning. He watched the different structures rush towards his face at dizzying speed. It seemed as if they’d clock him, smash straight into him, only for the holographic buildings to then go through him entirely. Donghyuck sometimes wondered, what would happen if he were to show a hologram of, say, a person to people from a century ago, if they’d think it was a ghost.

For the million-and-first time, Donghyuck caught Jeno glancing at him. With a sigh, Donghyuck flicked the holographic projector off. Jeno blinked wide eyes, caught fully staring. Donghyuck gestured at him to come over.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Donghyuck asked, when Jeno had gotten over himself enough to give up on his charade, “‘S creepy.”

Jeno frowned.

“Well. Just now, it was because you were playing around with the hologram machine. I don’t think we’re allowed to do that, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck huffed a laugh-adjacent breath, “Fair. What about all the other times, though?”

Jeno broke eye contact. He looked down at his hands in his lap.

“Honestly-- and you’re free to tell me if I’m, like, asking something you don’t want to answer, here. But you’ve been really quiet,” Jeno took a deep breath, then he raised his head, “Is it because of what I did?”

Donghyuck smiled a crooked smile. He didn’t answer Jeno immediately, though he knew it would bother him. He flicked the hologram machine back on, started to browse through the available projections.

“Nah,” he said, as he scrolled, “It’s not about you, oddly.”

Donghyuck could imagine Jeno’s sour look as Donghyuck tested his patience. But he had to be genuinely trying to be patient with Donghyuck, because his tone the next time he spoke was measured, contained.

“Then what’s up, Hyuck? If it’s not me, what’s got you like this?”

Donghyuck found the perfect projection. He grinned with his success, even as his heart clenched. Jeno made a noise of shock as the hologram booted up. Donghyuck leaned back, and a flickering, blue-green portion of the starry night sky filled his vision.

Donghyuck turned to Jeno, who was still looking in surprise at the projection of the stars.

“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck said, though it lacked his usual teasing tone.

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” Jeno said. His sour mood was finally poking through his patient facade. Donghyuck’s grin grew wider, as he was reminded of a similar moment with Doyoung a few nights back.

Donghyuck turned away, searching through the labelled stars for one constellation in particular.

“It’s Mark,” he confessed, “well, kinda.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeno asked.

Donghyuck thought he found it, got excited enough to stand up. But, upon closer inspection, the label just read Ursa major.

“I told my mom I loved him and she and my dad went and wiped his memory.” Donghyuck tried for a casual delivery, like it was just some off-hand comment. Like it hadn’t been something that’d plagued him for days.

“Oh,” Jeno said, hesitantly.

Donghyuck finally glanced away from the projection of the night sky to look at him. He looked as though he had no idea how to look. Jeno’s face was screwed up into what might have been sympathy.

“That… sucks.”

Donghyuck laughed. He ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, it kinda does,” he fixed Jeno with a look, quieting in the space between a moment and the next, “but the thing is…. I’m not quite sure he’s lost for good, after all.”

“Oh?” Either Jeno’s acting was improving or he was sincerely a little uplifted by Donghyuck’s words.

Donghyuck waved his hand, a vague gesture.

“It’s not anything big, but I think he remembered something from before? It might’ve also just been a weird coincidence but…,” Donghyuck trailed off, frowning. He couldn’t keep from doubting his stupid hope, that thing that dared to lift within him when he thought of Mark remembering, despite the odds stacked against it.

Jeno frowned too.

“Man, I hope it’s not,” he sighed, “It’d be really cool if there was some robot expert you could ask about this. I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about ‘bots. ‘Cept that Mark’s a cool guy.”

Donghyuck levelled Jeno with a look for his blatant pandering.

But maybe he had something with the robot expert thing. Donghyuck could’ve hit himself, the moment he was struck with an idea. Who could know more about how robots worked than a robot himself?

A grin grew on Donghyuck’s face, as the dangerous thing within him sprouted wings and took tentative flight. He was going to regret letting himself hope, he knew it, but this time he was powerless to stop it.

“You know your brother’s friend Taeyong?”

Jeno’s eyes brightened in recognition, “Yeah, dude. Taeyong’s great. He was probably at… the party…,” Jeno trailed off at the mention of the party. Donghyuck was going to ignore the awkward end, for Jeno’s sake.

“Sweet!” Donghyuck turned back to the hologram. He was going to find his constellation, and he was going to find it before the period was out. He had a sense of newfound determination, “Can you help me find a way to meet up with him?”

from: jeno

tomorrow

after school

Donghyuck felt his heart thud. He looked up from his phone, not daring to do more than flick his eyes up. His parents seemed to be paying closer attention to him, after his outburst at them and subsequent disappearance. Any sudden movements or suspect actions would bring their questioning back.

They’d ask him how he was doing, like they weren’t the ones that had made him feel awful to begin with. They’d reiterate that they’d done it for Donghyuck’s sake, like they actually believed Donghyuck might come to see it as a good thing that they’d gone and erased Mark.

Donghyuck held his breath, and chanced a glance at the robot. Mark was hard at work, as he had been for the past couple days, all without break. He was crouched over, behind the TV, installing some upgrade Donghyuck’s father had confessed that Jensen had gotten installed first.

Donghyuck knew, if he could see Mark’s face, there would be nothing beyond his features there. Just a blank slate, no spark of recognition, no smile for Donghyuck. Donghyuck inhaled unevenly, and turned his eyes back to his phone.

to: jeno

got it. thanks

✶

“Hey, you’re driving me today,” Donghyuck tossed his keys to Mark. The robot caught them without flinching, face unchanging.

Donghyuck needed an excuse for Mark to come to him after school. He knew this. It still hurt, having to share his usual ritual ride with this Mark. It felt like the blank ‘bot was treading on hallowed ground, taking part in something special, something that had been just for Donghyuck and Donghyuck’s Mark alone.

But Donghyuck had to swallow his irrational desires to keep the rides to himself. He needed this Mark to intrude a little, if he was going to get his Mark back.

Without responding, the blank Mark immediately began to put away the food he was preparing. Without even turning Donghyuck’s way once, he started towards the garage.

“Impatient, are we?” Donghyuck’s mouth twisted into a wry smile as he watched the ‘bot move to his car, knowing full well his quip wouldn’t garner a reply.

Donghyuck couldn’t stand awkward silences. No matter the occasion, no matter the company, he’d always endeavored to avoid them. He’d crack a joke, or he’d make a fool out of himself. Hell, he’d even burst into random applause in a silent classroom, just to avoid that awkward, suffocating tension.

And it was suffocating, Donghyuck thought. That wasn’t an exaggeration. He glanced at Mark out of the corner of his eye, and had to keep regulating his breathing so his inhalations and exhalations came as and when they should.

Mark hadn’t looked his way once. Hadn’t said one thing. He was making great time, driving faster and taking shortcuts the other Mark never had. It was forcing Donghyuck to reconsider just how efficient the pre-erased Mark had been trying to be. If he could have made the rides shorter but hadn’t, that meant he’d intentionally drawn them out.

Donghyuck reminded himself once more to breathe normally, as his heart ached. As if normal breathing could alleviate the pain in his chest. Mark had been trying to spend more time with him, from the very start.

And it was only now that he was trying to get his time spent with Donghyuck over with as soon as physically possible that Donghyuck realized it.

Donghyuck eyed the blank-faced Mark, “I’m gonna turn on some music. Tell me if you’re not okay with that.”

Mark, of course, said nothing. He nodded, in acknowledgement that his master had spoken. Donghyuck didn’t hold back his disappointed sigh as he reached forward to start the radio. He paused, upon seeing his recently played tracks.

With a quaking finger, Donghyuck selected an old song. He watched Mark carefully for a reaction as he drew back to his seat.

Even before Bazzi came in speaking, even when it was just the instrumental intro to the song, Mark’s eyes started flashing. They lit up, faintly lit from within. Donghyuck watched them flash with bated breath, unsure what he’d done, whether he should have done it at all. Whether this was a good thing.

Then, the words started. Mark shook his head, as if trying to clear something from it. His eyes stayed lit up, flickering, strobing opalescent sharded light. He took his eyes from the road for the first time, and Donghyuck felt that thing within him take flight.

Mark looked from the car’s display, of the song title, to Donghyuck. Donghyuck tried not to get his hopes up, but his thoughts were just a string of one word repeated over and over.

remember, remember, remember, remember, remember

“Can you select a different song?” Mark asked, his voice toneless as ever, “This one appears to be causing a malfunction in my systems.”

Donghyuck felt his stomach bottom out. He nodded, jerkily. Hand shaking, he reached forward to pick something new. A recent song, something Mark definitely wouldn’t have heard before. Donghyuck bit his lip hard enough to feel a sharp pain, as Mark turned his dark eyes back to the road ahead.

As much as he wanted Mark to remember, Donghyuck didn’t want to risk hurting him to do it.

Chenle frowned at Donghyuck’s lunchtray.

“Seriously. Are you and Mark in a fight or something?”

Donghyuck felt his shoulders hike up. He shook his head, and picked up his spork to push around his cafeteria slush. Chenle would drop it again, if he just waited long enough for Jisung to distract him.

“Hyuck…,” Renjun sounded pained. Donghyuck looked up from his tray, wondering what he’d done to make Renjun sound like that.

“Is something wrong?” Renjun asked, sending Donghyuck into a state of surprise.

He shook his head a second time, hoping desperately that it’d work and that they’d leave it alone. He didn’t want to talk about Mark, not right at that moment, not in the middle of the cafeteria. Donghyuck glanced at Jeno, who was staring imploring at him. Donghyuck slumped back in his chair, put out. Jeno wanted him to talk about Mark with the rest of the guys.

He couldn’t. Sharing it with more people would only make the problem seem more real, seem less like a temporary thing and more like a permanent state.

Jaemin moved, catching Donghyuck’s eye. He shifted his arm, reaching for something under the table. From Renjun’s responding movement, it seemed Jaemin had made to grab onto Renjun’s hand.

“Did that ‘bot-- I mean. Did Mark say something to you?” Jaemin asked, looking from Renjun to Donghyuck. His brows were furrowed, “You can tell us, if he did.”

Donghyuck bet that, no matter how imaginative the ideas they’d formed about he and Mark, none of them matched up to reality. Mark hadn’t hurt him on purpose. It hadn’t been anything Mark had done, it was just that Mark wasn’t there . Wasn’t with Donghyuck, not really.

Donghyuck glanced again at Jeno, wondering if Jeno would still come to his aid even though they were on rocky ground. Jeno pressed his lips together. He seemed unhappy, but he spoke up.

“But you don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to.”

The table went silent. Jaemin frowned at Jeno. Donghyuck swore he saw electricity crackle in the air as Jaemin stared Jeno down. The guys had probably wanted to present a united front, as they called on Donghyuck. But Donghyuck had gotten to Jeno first.

Donghyuck pushed the guilty feeling that clogged his throat down. He’d promised Jeno that things wouldn’t change between he and his two best friends, but he’d gone and created another division between them. He cleared his throat, to speak.

“It’s nothing Mark said. I’m just… not feeling well, at the moment.”

He could tell, looking around at all his friends’ faces, that not a single one of them bought his excuse. But they were kind enough to pretend to, nodding at him, pasting neutral faces on, hiding their disappointment at his inability to open up. Jeno frowned, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Hopefully you get better soon,” Chenle said, softly. He reached over and squeezed Donghyuck’s hand.

“Mark too. I miss his cookies,” Jisung interjected, more loudly. Donghyuck smiled, despite himself. His friends, at least, would always be there for him. He’d fill them in on everything after Mark, in Chenle’s words, got better.

Donghyuck’s smile slipped from his face. He looked back down at his tray of slush. If Mark got better.

Chapter Text

“No. No. I don’t want to,” Taeyong shook his head, looking anywhere but at Mark.

Donghyuck felt something climb up and lodge itself in his throat. He had told himself not to get his hopes up. He’d reminded himself over and over on the ride to Doyoung’s apartment that Taeyong wouldn’t necessarily know exactly what was wrong with Mark, that he wouldn’t know exactly how to fix it. But the one thing he hadn’t warned himself of was the possibility that Taeyong wouldn’t even want to try and figure it out.

“What do you mean, you don’t want to?” Donghyuck asked, hollowly.

It was all he could do to keep from shouting at Taeyong. He was probably a decent guy under normal circumstance. But that was a hard thing to remember when he was refusing to help Donghyuck get his Mark back.

Jeno made a strangled noise at the back of his throat, reaching forward to clasp onto Donghyuck’s arm. Donghyuck looked at Jeno, then down at his hand where it wrinkled Donghyuck’s hoodie sleeve.

Jeno immediately took his hand away, as if he’d been burned. And that suited Donghyuck just fine.

He turned back to Taeyong. The supposed robot who was looking at him, freaked out and uncomposed. He kept shaking his head every time his gaze so much as neared Mark. It was starting to get on Donghyuck’s nerves.

“I mean,” Taeyong gestured to where Mark stood, without actually glancing at him. He was staring wide-eyed at Donghyuck, imploring him, “Look at him. He’s messed up.”

“I know he is,” Donghyuck’s voice cracked in his desperation. Taeyong had been his one idea, his one chance, “I’m trying to get him fixed. And you won’t even help me find out what’s wrong with him? Why he’s acting like he can’t feel anything at all?”

“Hyuck,” Jeno warned, though he knew better than to try and grab onto Donghyuck a second time.

And, yeah, maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing for Donghyuck to go around shouting at his one shot for figuring out what was wrong with Mark and whether it was fixable. Maybe he should have heeded Jeno’s warning, stood back and tried to manipulate Taeyong with kind words. Try to garner his sympathy and his pity and hope that he’d come around and eventually aid Donghyuck.

But Mark was staring blankly ahead, his dead eyes not tracking the conversation at all. And Donghyuck hadn’t seen him smile in days, and he had no way of knowing if he’d ever see him smile again.

“Taeyong, what’s wrong? You were willing to help before you saw him. What’s changed?” Doyoung’s concerned tone made Donghyuck look away from Mark.

Taeyong shook his head, again. His eyes were cast down.

“I’m not gonna interface with him. I’ve seen ‘bots get like that before. I’ve seen what-- what made them get that way.”

It was his last sentence that stuck in Donghyuck’s head, ringing through like a claxon. Donghyuck felt the fight sap from him as he looked at Mark and wondered, again, what his parents had done to him. Taeyong was acting like it was something worse than a reset. Something awful. Donghyuck felt something clench his heart.

Taeyong sounded so scared, so far away. It was like he wasn’t there, with them in Doyoung’s living room. It was like he was somewhere else entirely. Just like that, Donghyuck felt the last of his annoyance at the robot drain from him. Johnny had said once, Donghyuck recalled, that Taeyong had purchased his freedom. He wondered for the first time what Taeyong had had to buy his freedom from.

“What are you talking about? Are you talking about, like,” Doyoung lowered his voice, and said in a hesitant tone, “... your job? Before?”

Donghyuck didn’t know what Doyoung was referring to. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to, or if his words had just been for Taeyong alone. Probably the latter. Donghyuck drew closer to Mark, letting whatever subtextual conversation was happening between Doyoung and Taeyong happen without his interference.

Donghyuck wasn’t giving up with Taeyong. But maybe, maybe it was time to start thinking of a different approach, if Taeyong continued to act scared at the prospect of even helping Mark. Maybe it hadn’t been wise to just have one idea for fixing Mark.

Unthinking, Donghyuck carded his hand through Mark’s hair. He knew well enough that the he was doing this solely for his benefit. He was aware that, at best, Mark wouldn’t react to his touch at all. At worst, Mark would step away, out of Donghyuck’s reach.

Donghyuck ran his hands through the soft strands, feeling how they tapered to microscopic thinness between his pointer finger and thumb, feeling how the length shortened and shortened as his hand moved back, to the buzzed strands at the nape of Mark’s neck. Then, Donghyuck took a measured breath, and drew his hand away.

Looking at Mark’s unwavering blank expression, Donghyuck made him yet another promise, one he was determined to keep.

“We can find someone who’ll look at you. There’s gotta be a ‘bot out there, someone who can help,” Donghyuck paused, felt his shoulders hike up, remorseful at ever doubting what he was about to say,  “I know you’re in there, somewhere.”

Mark, of course, didn’t react. All that occured was another bright gleam of his eyes. Donghyuck frowned. They kept doing that.

“Shit, damnit,” A string of curses at Donghyuck’s back had him spinning away from Mark.

Taeyong had his hands in his hair, as he looked on at Donghyuck with fear and something akin to pity. He was tugging at the red strands, they spilled out from between his pale fingers like blood.

Taeyong walked forward, “Fuck. Okay. I can do this.”

“What?” Donghyuck asked, uncomprehending. Not following. Doyoung and Jeno had wide-eyed looks, as completely and utterly shocked at Taeyong as Donghyuck.

“M-move aside, please,” Taeyong made shooing motions at Donghyuck with his hands. His eyes were darting around, nervously. Donghyuck shifted his stance, Mark at his back, but he didn’t move.

“Why?”

“Oh, God. Uh, to find out what’s wrong with him, I’m gonna need to touch him.”

“Why do you need to touch him?” Donghyuck thought it sounded suspicious. He glanced over his shoulder, at Mark, at his dull eyes.

“Androids can interface with other androids through physical contact,” Taeyong winced, “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

Donghyuck opened his mouth to suggest that maybe Taeyong could explain the interfacing business a bit better if he tried a little harder, but Doyoung cut him off, “Just trust him, Donghyuck. This is already hard enough for him as it is.”

Donghyuck frowned, but upon seeing the sincere, determined set in Doyoung’s face, he stepped aside. But only just. Taeyong nodded at him, in recognition, then stepped up to Mark.

Donghyuck noted, absently, the footfalls of two pairs of shoes as Doyoung and Jeno came near. But he didn’t look, he barely heard them, as Taeyong raised both of his hands and placed splayed fingers on the sides of Mark’s head.

Nothing happened, for one heartstopping moment.

Then, Mark’s eyes started to open wider and wider. They lit up, as though they were filled with all colors of fairy lights, brighter than Donghyuck had ever seen them.

Taeyong’s eyes were closed, but Donghyuck could tell that they were lit up too. The light seeped through the thin skin stretched over his eyes, turning his eyelids a dull red, turning them into dual glowing embers.

Taeyong’s mouth, at first a thin line, twisted. His lips parted into a grimace, and his teeth were clenched behind them. Donghyuck watched in creeping horror as Taeyong’s knuckles turned white on the side of Mark’s head, as his grip tightened. Doyoung made a noise and stepped forward, reaching out, stopping short of Taeyong and Mark.

Then, Taeyong gasped, and wrenched his hands away. His eyes flew open, back to normal in the span of a split second. Mark’s took moments to dull back to their previous voids of color.

“What did you find?” Doyoung asked, before Donghyuck had the chance to.

“Nothing,” Taeyong sounded haunted. He looked at his fingers, then at Mark. Donghyuck frowned.

“Nothing’s wrong with him?”

He couldn’t believe that, not when Mark couldn’t even remember his own name.

“No,” Taeyong turned wide, wobbly eyes to Donghyuck, “There’s nothing there. He’s empty.”

“That’s impossible,” Doyoung said.

His voice sounded far away, as blood rushed to Donghyuck’s ears. Empty. He looked at Mark, at his slack face and soulless gaze.

Donghyuck hadn’t thought, ever, that there’d be nothing of Mark left. He’d thought Mark had just been reset, that something might have gone amiss in the reset process. His breathing came in short, shallow. Donghyuck reached up to claw his collar away from his neck but it didn’t help him breathe easier at all. Mark was empty. There was nothing to get back.

“I’m telling you what I saw. It’s like there was a gap where his mind should’ve been, where I should’ve been able to reach.”

“That’s… not possible,” Doyoung repeated, but he didn’t sound so sure this time around. He looked at Mark, morbidly curious.

“Doyoung,” Jeno sounded unsure as he tapped on his brother’s shoulder, “you could check it out too. You could see if Taeyong’s right, if his mind’s gone.”

Donghyuck was hearing their conversation as if he was miles away. He couldn’t move, frozen to his feet.

“I’m only pre-med. I’m hardly qualified to do brain surgery,” Doyoung’s brows knitted together, “Mark hasn’t got that kind of mind anyway.”

Taeyong nodded, his movements mechanical. He still looked to be almost as shaken as Donghyuck felt. Donghyuck wondered what exactly he’d seen inside of Mark, to make him that unnerved. That line of thought only made Donghyuck feel worse.

“That’s right. His mind-- our minds…. they’re just chips, really. Just lines of code committed onto a circuit.”

An idea came to Donghyuck. He should’ve felt excited, at the prospect of another hope for Mark, but he only felt dismal. The word empty ricocheted around his head.

“Find someone who knows code, then.”

All eyes in the room but Mark’s turned to him.

Donghyuck shrugged, looking helplessly at all of their faces before turning to Mark, “We need to find someone who can look at his code and tell us if there’s really nothing left of him.’’

After Donghyuck’s idea, Doyoung had turned to Taeyong and, with a pained look on his face, said, “Isn’t Johnny’s new boyfriend--”

“--Oh my God,” as Taeyong caught on to Doyoung’s thread of thought, leaving Donghyuck in the dust, his face cleared somewhat. He still looked nauseated, but distractedly so, “Yes. He is. You know, the first time I met him, he asked if I could flash him. Like, my eyes.”

“He’s a creep,” Doyoung had a touch of anger coloring his tone.

“He’s Mark’s best bet. Do we know any other compsci majors?”

Donghyuck frowned, angling away from Mark towards the two older boys, “You guys know someone who can help?”

Doyoung paused, as if he’d forgotten Donghyuck was there. He visibly schooled his face.

“We might.”

Donghyuck reminded himself, again, not to get his hopes up. His first hope Taeyong hadn’t been able to do much beyond diagnose that Mark wasn’t simply reset. He nodded at Doyoung, feeling raw, frayed.

“Okay. I’m willing to try anything or anyone.”
The look Doyoung gave Taeyong, one of trepidation, would have set off alarms within Donghyuck if he weren’t already wholly occupied with thinking of Mark.

“Alright. You might have to wait a bit. We have to talk to Johnny first,” Doyoung explained.

While Doyoung and Taeyong took to their phones, Donghyuck felt a rush of gratitude for the two of them. Donghyuck hadn’t been too close with Doyoung, not since Doyoung had graduated high school and left the suburbs behind. And he barely knew Taeyong at all. He’d never spoken to him before. And yet, there they were, spending their time and effort just to help a strange boy and his stranger ‘bot.

Donghyuck, meanwhile, had to deal with the reality that Mark’s fix wasn’t going to be as quick as he had dared to hope. Soon enough, he and Jeno would be stuck in rush hour as they tried to get back to their homes, to race back before Donghyuck’s parents noticed he and Mark’s absence. If they found out he’d taken Mark to get fixed… Donghyuck shuddered. He didn’t think they’d be angry with him.

But. Donghyuck glanced again at Mark. He feared what would happen to Mark when his parents discovered they weren’t home. If he wouldn’t just be wiped and emptied, but maybe taken away from Donghyuck for good.

“I didn’t think it would take this long,” Donghyuck confessed to Jeno, in an undertone. He didn’t want his naivety overheard by Doyoung and Taeyong. For some reason, he hadn’t considered the possibility that Taeyong wouldn’t just magically be able to set Mark right.

Jeno understood him, though. He nodded, “What are your parents gonna do, when they come home and you and Mark aren’t there?”

“I dunno,” Donghyuck winced. He glanced at his phone, then looked again to Mark. “I only have, like, an hour ‘til I find out, I guess.”

Jeno’s brow furrowed as his expression went from sympathetic to thoughtful.

“I think I have an idea…,” he trailed off. Then he bit his lip, peeking at Donghyuck, “I think I can buy you the rest of the night. But I might need to let a couple of the guys know, to get their help.”

Suddenly, Donghyuck understood why Jeno looked nervous offering his suggestion. But, Donghyuck was far beyond caring if they found out about Mark’s non-reset. It would probably make him feel better to not have to hide it from them anymore, anyways.

“I’m game,” Donghyuck said, “Let’s hear it.”

Jeno’s plan was a simple coverup, banking mainly on Donghyuck’s parents’ fondness towards him. He’d lie to them about Donghyuck and Mark’s whereabouts, and get Renjun and Jaemin to aid him in moving Donghyuck’s car from where it was parked in the student lot at their school.

“Jeno,” Donghyuck stopped Jeno, as he stood up right after he’d finished explaining his idea.

He knew that by speaking he’d risk getting Jeno off the hook, and making him not want to cover up for Donghyuck anymore. But Donghyuck couldn’t stomach the thought of Jeno potentially getting into trouble covering for him, even if they weren’t on the best terms.

“What?” Jeno asked. He looked ready to go.

“You don’t have to do all this just ‘cause you feel guilty about flirting with me.”

A bright red flush bloomed across Jeno’s cheeks as he blushed. Donghyuck was pretty sure he looked similar. He could feel heat rising to his face just at the mere thought of that disastrous night.

“I’m not doing it because of that,” Jeno said, obstinately, his eyes cast firmly downwards.

“Okay.”

Jeno looked up, holding Donghyuck’s gaze, a newly determined gleam in his eyes.

“Really. I do still feel bad but, Hyuck. I just… I thought I’d try being a good friend for a change,” Jeno smiled, sheepishly, and Donghyuck felt his face grow even hotter. He wondered about Jeno’s choice of words, if Jeno had remembered that moment too, “That’s all I’m doing here, I swear.”

Donghyuck nodded. He swallowed, “I believe you.”

“Can I go now?” Jeno asked, his smile growing into a grin. Not waiting for a response, he started towards the door.

“Yeah, sure, knock yourself out,” Donghyuck gave permission to thin air, as Doyoung’s apartment door shut closed behind Jeno.

Donghyuck frowned at the door long after it had closed, wondering if he’d ever stop misjudging Jeno. First, the pedestal he’d put him on. Then, the dark light he cast him in based on one drunken, messy night.

“We’re in luck. Johnny said his friend could help us. He said the guy even has some experience working with ‘bots,” Doyoung looked up from his phone, at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck stood, immediately, drawing up next to where Mark stood.

“He can help?” Donghyuck felt a little lighter, like a miniscule portion of the weight on his chest had been lifted off. He didn’t know whether to be grateful for the bit of levity, or not. He already knew it wouldn’t do to get his hopes up.

“Yeah. There’s a catch, though,” Doyoung frowned, as he glanced back at his phone, “Johnny’s friend wants us to go to him.”

✶

They were meant to meet Johnny and his computer science major friend in a building on the nearby college campus. Donghyuck had worried, at first, that Mark would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the image he had of campus. Of beleaguered students touting overstuffed backpacks, of rushing professors in spectacles. But Donghyuck’s preconceptions appeared not to be aligned with the reality of the university at all

The building Johnny had told them to go to was teeming with technology. Mark’s flashing eyes were among the least remarkable things within it. Just peering around the massive, airport-like entrance lobby, Donghyuck was able to spot more than a handful of androids among the masses of overcaffeinated engineering students. The androids didn’t all look entirely human either.

Donghyuck surreptitiously scooted away from a ‘bot a few yards from him. It had its skin entirely peeled away, revealing the smooth porcelain-white plastic that made up its internal structure. The skin-less ‘bot suddenly looked to Donghyuck and Donghyuck froze, paralyzed at the sight of its eyeballs, uncovered, just spheres rolling in its plastic skull directed his way.

“I hate this place,” Doyoung said, crossing his leg over his knee and frowning at the skinned ‘bot.

“Ditto.”

Taeyong wasn’t even looking around. He had his eyes closed. He’d tilted his head back on Doyoung’s shoulder and had an earbud sticking out from his exposed ear. He must have cranked the volume on his music way up, because Donghyuck caught faint, angry drumbeats and inaudible shouting.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck apologized. And he meant it. It was because of him that the two of them had to even be here.

He glanced at Mark, seated beside him, his shoulders set and his back straight as a ruler. He tried not to think of if Mark resembled the skinned ‘bot, and failed miserably.

“Oh, God no. You’re good, Donghyuck. It’s the engineering students I can’t stand.”

Donghyuck’s eye was drawn to a sudden flurry of motion as two winged creatures simultaneously took flight. They soared to the heights of the criss-crossing metal beams at the top of the ceiling, a hundred feet above their heads, before dropping down and flitting through the air, chasing each other, like a dance.

Donghyuck wondered how birds that big had even gotten into the building. He craned his neck, and saw that they weren’t birds at all. One resembled a Monarch butterfly, if Monarch butterflies had hazard lights fixed to them and were the size of a car’s wheel. The other looked like a sleek black fighter jet, only it was miniaturized, the exact same size as the butterfly. As Donghyuck watched, the butterfly crashed into the mini-jet. The crash was immediately followed by a hoot and a holler down below, close to them.

One student with a remote control was jumping up and down in victory, peering up at the butterfly as it flew victorious circles through the metal beams. The other had a despondent face as he tried to bring the broken jet safely back down to the ground.

“They’re so… obnoxious,” Doyoung looked as though he’d tasted something sour. Donghyuck wanted to ask him more about his apparent antipathy towards engineering students, when a shrill voice cut him off.

“Oh my God, is that the ‘bot? He’s stunning,” A student ran forward towards them, leaning in to stare at Mark. He had silver hair and glasses that looked, for some reason, familiar in combination. Donghyuck shook his head. He’d never seen this guy before in his life.

“What are you doing?” Donghyuck asked, as he pushed off his seat and stood up.

He was about to-- he didn’t know-- shove the guy away from Mark, maybe. He looked like he could be smaller than Donghyuck. Donghyuck could do it

But then Johnny came jogging up.

“Watch out. You’re gonna make me jealous,” Johnny said, breathlessly, presumably directed to the guy who was up in Mark’s face.

Panting, Johnny leaned down and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath after catching up with his silver-haired friend.

“Hi, kid,” Johnny lifted his head with effort, waving at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck looked from Johnny, to the guy with the glasses, and back to Johnny. A realization hit him. The guy was familiar because he’d seen his face a half dozen times, back when Johnny had shown him the sketches of his crush from design class.

All Donghyuck could think was, maybe he’d misjudged Johnny, if this was the kind of guy he fell for.

Just then, the guy reached forward, grasping Mark’s chin. The unexpected contact elicited an embarrassing pained sound from Donghyuck.

“What are you doing ?” he asked, again, balling up his hands into fists. He didn’t care if Johnny liked this guy. Donghyuck didn’t.

“You can barely tell he’s a robot,” the guy said, tilting Mark’s head to the side, “Of course, he has some tells. A couple manufacturing flaws… there! and there! , but for the most part--.”

“Manufacturing flaws?” Donghyuck repeated, teeth clenched, cutting the guy off. He asked his most pressing question next, “Who are you?”

“Oh! I didn’t introduce myself?” the guy looked at Donghyuck in genuine confusion, his eyes wide behind the lenses of his glasses.

“No?”

Under his breath, Doyoung muttered, “Obnoxious.”

The guy extended a hand to Donghyuck. It was the same one that’d held Mark’s chin only moments before. Donghyuck hesitated a moment, then took it.

“I’m Ten! And I’m here to look at your gorgeous ‘bot for you.” the guy said, cheerily. Donghyuck frowned, because what the hell kinda name was Ten? And who did Ten think he was, calling Mark gorgeous like that?

“His name is Mark,” Donghyuck informed Ten. He was prepared for what was to come, so he was the only one among their group who didn’t react when Mark’s eyes lit up and he said, monotonously.

“My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Ten turned away from Donghyuck, back to the ‘bot. Donghyuck felt Taeyong shift at his side, as he opened his eyes and looked at Mark.

“That was weird,” Johnny stated, “Your boy’s kinda creepy, kid.”

Donghyuck felt his heart clench. He wished, uselessly, that Johnny had had the chance to talk to Mark before he’d had everything he was erased.

“While I’d love to stick around here and figure out what else he’s capable of saying,” Ten beckoned them all to rise from their seats, “We really need to get downstairs.”

“We’re on the ground floor,” Donghyuck pointed out, confused.

“That we are!”

Without another word, Ten started to briskly walk away, his messenger bag bouncing off his side. Donghyuck shared an uncertain glance with Johnny, who was only watching Ten’s back recede with a fond look in his eyes. Finding no help there, Donghyuck sniffed, set his jaw, and asked the blank Mark to please follow them.

Ten first led their group to a hallway with six shining stainless steel elevators, three embedded in each concrete wall of the hallway. Once in the elevator, Ten pressed an unlabelled button at the bottom of the panel by the door. The doors slid shut, the elevator started moving down, and Donghyuck once again wished he had someone to share a glance with.

Compared to the lobby area, which had been teeming with students and robots alike, the sublevel seemed nearly empty. The dim, yellowed lights flickered above their heads as Ten led them down a hallway, then another hallway. It was on the last hallway that their group ran into the first person they’d seen underground. A student with a sheaf of honest-to-God papers in his hands.

The student pulled up when he spotted them, looking first at Ten, then at the rest of their group, then back at Ten.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you down here,” The student said, his voice careful. Conspicuously, he slipped the sheaf of papers into a messenger bag he had.

Ten grinned winningly, “I’ve had a bit of a social life lately, unfortunately.”

The student looked over Ten’s shoulder, at their group again. Johnny waved at him, good-natured. Donghyuck wondered if he should join Johnny and wave too, introduce himself to the guy. He looked nice enough. It was just that that this conversation was delaying whatever plans Ten had for assessing Mark.

“I see,” the student said eventually, then, he turned his eyes back to Ten, as if the rest of them weren’t worth anymore of his notice, “I was just working on a workaround for NCT’s latest patch. Do you think you could drop by sometime this week, help me troubleshoot it?”

“Sure thing, Kun! Can’t wait to see what you’ve cooked up this time.”

Ten threw a thumb up, and started walking again, unsubtly motioning their group to resume following him.

Close behind the guy with the sheaf of papers, Ten hung a left.

He pushed through a metal door with a cracked and curled sign on it that proclaimed it led to the stairs. Donghyuck drew his fingers across the sign as he passed through the door. Paper. Donghyuck looked back to Johnny. Johnny shrugged, looking just as lost as Donghyuck felt.

There were floors lower even than the first sublevel. Ten led them down the stairs-- he had to, the stairs only led one direction. He pushed on the door that led to the lowest floor. Its hinges made an awful rusty, squeaky noise.

“Come on, come on,” Ten hurried them along. Donghyuck’s eyes were drawn to the walls, to the actual, physical posters lining them. He barely saw those anymore, especially ones depicting messages about computer etiquette in excited neon font.

After half a minute of walking through the poster-lined halls, Donghyuck started to wonder if this Ten guy wasn’t crazy. If he wasn’t leading them on a wild goose chase. He drew back to ask Johnny if this was really the same guy he’d spoken so highly of, when Ten exclaimed.

“Alright, we’re here!”

And then Ten drew up to a door Donghyuck had barely noticed amidst the brightly colored posters. Ten rummaged through his bag, then pulled out a key. Donghyuck stared at it. It wasn’t a normal key, fit with a scanner and an LED. It was one of those metal keys, the ones you only ever saw in old movies.

Donghyuck’s eyes narrowed, as he looked up at Ten. The guy just kept getting stranger and stranger. It was hard to swallow that Donghyuck’s hopes for finding out if he could retrieve Mark all rested on his shoulders.

Ten inserted the key into the door’s lock and turned it, then pushed through the door. Donghyuck followed, pushing the door open wider. Donghyuck paused, as he noticed the door was heavier than it ought to be. He tested it, pulling it back and forth. Real wood. Of course.

Ten must have turned the lights on, because suddenly the room was lit up. The overhead lights crackled to life, casting the room in a yellow hue, illuminating rows and rows of desks with massive, strange-looking computers that took up half the desk surface atop them.

Chapter Text

Ten had brought them to a computer lab. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like. But the computers atop the tables in the room were like none he’d ever seen. As Ten pulled back a chair in front of one of the things and started rifling through his messenger bag, Donghyuck examined the one closest to him.

The computer was so big. Its screen was tiny, but the rest of it was huge. It had a promontory back part, a hard shell made of plastic. The back was a translucent blue, and the gadgetry that made up the computing part could be seen through it.

“Whoa,” Donghyuck breathed, as he tapped on the plastic, wondering how long the oddly shaped computer had lain on this desk. Years, decades? He looked to Mark, who was standing by the door to the lab, looking incredibly out of place amidst the ancient tech.

“Hey, Mark…” he started, then winced. He’d gotten so excited to ask how long ago the computer had been manufactured, he’d forgotten.

“My designation is model gamma-eight-six-five-seven, mark three.”

“Does he say that every time you try to refer to him by any other name?” Ten had his brows drawn together. He looked at Mark as if he was seeing him anew.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck didn’t like the shift in Ten’s face, the sudden somberness there.

“Huh,” Ten glanced at Donghyuck, just for a moment. “That’s interesting.”

But Donghyuck saw the worry there, behind Ten’s glasses. He bristled, unable to shake the feeling that Ten had something he wasn’t saying. Something he didn’t want to share in front of Donghyuck.

He walked over to Ten.

“So, how are you gonna fix him?”

Ten’s eyes flicked away from Donghyuck, over his shoulder, at Mark by the door.

“Well, I’m gonna look at his code,” Ten paused, “If he’s got something wrong there, I’ll set it right.”

Donghyuck frowned-- he hadn’t missed that if. Ten opened his mouth, then closed it again. He smiled, nervously, then looked down to continue digging through his bag.

He drew out a box about the size of the palm of his hand. It had slots dug into its metal surface and a cable extruding from it.

Without looking up from the box, without facing Donghyuck, Ten said, “Go bring the ‘bot over here, okay?”

Donghyuck wanted to stay by Ten’s side and interrogate him further. The guy was acting evasive all of a sudden. But his desire to get Mark’s code looked at won out, and he followed Ten’s request.

“C’mon, Mark,” Donghyuck tugged at Mark’s unwielding hand.

Ten had set up the strange little box and already plugged it into the computer by the time Donghyuck had pulled Mark over.

“Great. Now go get another chair,” Ten made a face, “Or two, if you feel like you wanna hover during this.”

Donghyuck wanted to protest-- he wasn’t hovering -- but one look at Mark’s blank face made him reconsider. With a sharp exhale, Donghyuck quelled himself, and went to go drag two other chairs over.

Johnny ran forward to aid him in moving the chairs. Donghyuck gave him a grateful smile that wasn’t long for life. As he looked back to Ten and Mark, his expression turned to one of horror. Ten was unbuttoning Mark’s shirt.

“ What are you doing? ” Donghyuck squeaked. He ran to them, dropping his chair, letting it fall to the cement floor with a clatter.

“I have to get to his chip,” Ten said.

Then, “Excuse me?” as Donghyuck seized his arm, stopping him in his path to reach another button.

Donghyuck felt his cheeks heat up, a wicked flush probably working its way across his face. He released Ten’s wrist-- he was embarrassed for just grabbing onto Ten. But, looking at Mark’s shirt, half the buttons undone, he couldn’t say he regretted it.

“You need to strip him to get to his chip?” Donghyuck’s voice was pitched high in his stress.

“Not strip. I was just going to open up his shirt a bit,” Ten frowned at Donghyuck, massaging at the wrist Donghyuck had grabbed. Donghyuck felt small under his gaze, but he didn’t stand down.

Then, Johnny came up with a chair in tow, cutting the staring contest between Ten and Donghyuck short.

As Ten turned away from Donghyuck to face Mark, Donghyuck could have sworn he’d heard Ten mutter something that sounded awfully like ‘demon child’. But that couldn’t have been right.

Ten gently pushed Mark down into the chair Johnny had brought. Mark, of course, went down obediently, without question or protest.

Ten glanced Donghyuck’s way, rolled his eyes. “Now, may I please unbutton your ‘bot’s shirt in a respectful way so that I can get his chip and get on with fixing him for you? Or are you going to assault again if I try?”

“I didn’t assault you,” Donghyuck muttered, his eyes falling from Ten. But he nodded his head to give the okay, feeling properly censured.

Donghyuck felt his face heat further as he watched Ten unbutton the rest of Mark’s shirt, as Mark stared ahead with an unchanging expression. Donghyuck had to look away, for a moment, as Ten guided Mark until his shoulders hit the back of the chair.

It was just strange, Donghyuck thought, to see Mark treated the way Ten was treating him and having no apparent reaction at all.

Johnny was frowning, “I’m not the biggest fan of this either, just for the record.”

“Yeah, it’s starting to feel a bit voyeuristic,” Doyoung called. He and Taeyong were hanging back, by the door. Taeyong still looked nauseated.

“Hey-- who’s the ‘bot expert here?”

Ten’s disgruntled reminder came as he drew his fingers in a line down Mark’s front, starting first from a point at the base of his throat, then going down. Donghyuck swallowed, hating every second of this and knowing how necessary it was.

Ten made a soft exclamation when his fingers came to a point where Mark’s sternum would have been, if he had one. Ten looked up as he, inexplicably, pushed down Mark’s chest at the spot he’d reached. Even more inexplicably, that part of Mark’s chest went down. It depressed with Ten’s push, in an area the size and shape of Donghyuck’s phone screen.

Donghyuck involuntarily took a step back as what looked to be a panel opened in the middle of Mark’s chest. It slid open with a hiss, revealing an illuminated rectangle of exposed circuits and wires. Brows drawn low over the rims of his glasses, Ten turned back to dig through his bag.

“Jesus, Mark,” Donghyuck eyes flicked from the open panel to Mark’s blank face above it. Mark continued to stare ahead, slumped back against the chair.

Drawn forward like a moth to a flame, Donghyuck took a step towards Mark. With a shaky hand, he reached out. His breath caught as his fingers passed the panel’s opening, as he reached in hopes of touching the odd rim of light that lined the panel’s opening.

It wasn’t just lit with white, he realized. It was hard to tell, but as the light undulated with surges that came at intervals that seemed to be synced with Donghyuck’s heartbeat, it fragmented into multicolors.

“Kid, are you sure you should be--”

“Out of the way, you.”

Donghyuck snatched his hand away and sent Ten a guilty look. He ducked his head and moved to Mark’s side as Ten drew a small tool that resembled tweezers out of his bag. With the tool, Ten reached in slowly and carefully to the open panel at Mark’s chest. Tongue poked out in concentration, Ten stopped moving. He hesitated, his eyes meeting Donghyuck’s over Mark’s form.

“Say your goodbyes now. Your ‘bot might not come back the same.”

Donghyuck nearly stopped breathing. Panicking, he dropped down to face Mark at eye level.

“Hey,” Donghyuck spoke to the blank Mark. Even now, with his chest opened up and a strange bespectacled man rummaging around inside him, Mark hadn’t changed his expression. If he knew Mark could feel anything at all, Donghyuck would’ve said he looked bored.

Mark raised his chin slightly, as he turned to the aside to look at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck bit his lip, as it threatened to wobble.

“This…,” Donghyuck tried to think of a way to describe Ten, “...little man’s gonna fix you up now. When he’s done, you might start remembering things. Apples, old American R&B, the stupid puns you used to make. Hopefully, you’ll even remember me,” Donghyuck broke off, his voice giving out.

Unable to resist, he reached and placed his hand on the side of Mark’s face. He felt cold, far cooler than Donghyuck’s hand, colder than Donghyuck remembered him being before. Mark’s eyes flashed bright, then slid shut. His head went limp, falling into Donghyuck’s hand.

“What?” Donghyuck’s heart picked up pace, it hammered against his ribcage. He gently cradled Mark’s head, lifting it up, “Mark? Mark!”

“Kid, it’s okay. He’s fine,” Johnny’s hand, a solid comforting presence, landed on Donghyuck’s back.

Johnny nodded at Ten, who was dropping a tiny object, about the size of Donghyuck’s pinkie fingernail, into the palm of his hand. Ten lifted his hand, holding it out for Donghyuck to see. It was a computer chip, small, embedded with a miniscule strip of pulsating light that ran the length of it.

“Say hi to Mark.”

Donghyuck looked from Mark’s head, held still in his palm, to the chip in Ten’s hand.

“Hey, Mark,” he breathed, in disbelief that that little thing held everything that had made Mark up, all of his quirks and eccentricities.

Ten’s fingers curled, closing over the chip, “Cute,” he snorted. He slid the chip into one of the slots on the metal box he’d plugged into the computer.

Donghyuck silently reached over to grab Mark’s shirt. He drew it closed over Mark’s chest as Ten fiddled with the computer, drawing up a couple windows of code and a third, smaller window.

“What are you doing on there?” Donghyuck asked, as his eyes flitted back and forth from Mark’s still form to Ten tapping away at the computer.

He heard Taeyong and Doyoung making their way over. Distantly, he wondered if they had held back up until that moment because of Taeyong’s apparent discomfort with Mark.

Frowning with concentration, Ten didn’t look away from the curved screen of the computer.

He pointed at one code window, “This is what the code should look like for a model  gamma…. gamma..,” he trailed off.

Donghyuck helped him out, “Model gamma-eight-six-five-seven.”

“Yeah, that,” Ten clicked at something in the smaller window, the one that wasn’t code, then typed something. The corners of his mouth kept inching downwards. Donghyuck noticed a number in the smaller window, one that ticked up and up every second.

“This,” Ten pointed at the other code window, “is Mark’s code.”

He pointed, finally, at the small window nestled in between the two. Ten looked at Donghyuck, “And this is a little program I created. It’s finding the discrepancies between them.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck looked again at the small window. Even in the time it’d taken Ten to explain its purpose, the number had risen higher. “There seem to be a lot of those.”

“Yeah. Whoever tampered with your ‘bot did a real bang-up job of it. Thorough, and crude.”

“Crude?” Taeyong couldn’t even look at Mark. He kept his eyes raised high, pointed his gaze at the top of Ten’s head.

“Yeah. It’s looking like whoever got to him kind of just… inserted a few lines with cascading effects which effectively cut off access to almost all of his artificial intelligence capabilities,” Ten spoke distractedly, as he continued to clack away at the computer’s keyboard. Donghyuck hadn’t understood half of what he’d said but he started to feel a creeping, cloying pain in his chest.

When no one replied, Ten looked behind him at the group assembled around Mark and, apologetically, put whatever had been done in words they could comprehend, “I guess it’s kinda like if someone could cut off most of your brain. It would cripple your ability to do anything beyond, you know, the basics.”

“So he was lobotomized,” Doyoung said, bluntly.

Donghyuck bit his lip. He wondered if it had hurt Mark, to have that done to him. If the carving up of his code reflected itself with physical pain. Donghyuck closed his eyes, breathed in, and out. When he opened them, he allowed himself to look at Mark. With his eyes closed, his face relaxed, Mark looked almost peaceful.

“Sort of,” Ten waved a hand, “Kinda. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to undo than an actual lobotomy, though. Thankfully, the brute who tried to neutralize his AI got lazy. Mark’s code’s still intact, just inaccessible.”

No, Donghyuck decided, Mark didn’t just look peaceful. He looked as though he could be sleeping. Maybe, when he woke, this would all seem like just a bad dream to him.

“I can fix him, easily, but I can’t guarantee he’ll remember anything from before he got tampered with,” Ten said, a bit quieter. Donghyuck looked up, to find Ten already looking at him. With a gravity Donghyuck wouldn’t have thought him capable of possessing, Ten inclined his head “Sorry.”

Donghyuck traced the lines of Mark’s face with his eyes. His cheekbones, his lashes, the moles that dotted his skin. All Donghyuck had wanted was for Mark to remember who he was. But maybe what he wanted didn’t matter.

“That’s okay,” he said, even though it wasn’t, not really, not at all.

“As long as he can start making new memories,” Donghyuck tried to convince himself, “that’s all that matters.”

The old Mark, though-- the one who smiled upon seeing Donghyuck, the one who found him beautiful-- he couldn’t quite grasp the idea that that Mark might be gone for good. And all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Well, at the very least, I can promise you he’ll be able to do that. Do you want me to save a version of his current code before I fix it?” Ten asked, already moving to plug another memory chip into the box extension.

“Why would I want that?”

Donghyuck felt hollow, scooped out. He never wanted to think about blank Mark again, much less have a version of him saved.

“So you can, I dunno, sue the guy who did it?” Ten frowned at him, “NCTech would be pissed to see this hack job on their precious code.”

“How do you know that?” Johnny sounded awed.

“Jailbreaking ‘bots is a lucrative business, and I’ve got a college tuition to pay off,” Ten flashed a winning smile up at Johnny.

“I can’t tell if it’s sexy or stupid how casually you just implied you break laws for a living,” Johnny’s mouth curled into a crooked grin, as he leaned over to observe Ten working on the computer.

“I’ll help you out there. It’s sexy. Betcha didn’t know I was a bad boy,” Ten winked at Johnny, who chuckled. Ten then turned back to Donghyuck, briefly, and seemed to sober up instantly, “Please leave my involvement out when you go to NCT. Thanks.”

Donghyuck nodded, hollowly. He wasn’t even thinking about it, not even after Ten had brought it up. He could barely look beyond the immediate future, the precise moment when Mark would have his chip put back in him and he’d reactivate and Donghyuck would discover how much of himself he had retained.

Ten made a few more taps on the keyboard, a few more quick clicks of the corded mouse. The window displaying Mark’s code changed, as all the lines previously enshadowed turned a vibrant, fully opaque green. Then, just like that, Ten was closing the window.

Donghyuck blinked. Had it really been that easy a solution? He’d felt so dismal, so heartbroken, and all because of an issue that was a few quick keystrokes and a couple minutes programming away from resolution. Mark had been erased, and his retrieval had only been a car-ride to a college campus away.

Ten plucked Mark’s chip from the slot of the metal box. Wordlessly, he extended his hand to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck looked at the tiny thing, uncomprehending, at first.

“You can do it, if you want,” Ten said, “Don’t worry. This part’ll be hard to fuck up.”

With those resounding words of encouragement ringing in his ears, Donghyuck took the chip. With utmost care, he drew aside Mark’s shirt and exposed the open square of wires in his chest.

He heard a weak sound behind him, from Taeyong’s direction.

Then, Donghyuck carefully, carefully inserted the chip. It slotted into place as easy as anything. Nothing happened, for a split second. Then, the panel slid shut, cutting off the vibrant pulsating light, and making Mark look indistinguishable from a person in slumber.

With bated breath, waiting for any slight movement or indication of Mark’s reactivation, Donghyuck angled his head to watch him. As he waited and waited, as Mark remained seated stock still, Donghyuck began to button Mark’s shirt up. It was taking awhile, with his hands trembling as they were. He had to focus intently, just to get the cool metal buttons through the slits in the shirt’s placket.

Donghyuck reached the second highest button, the one that rested at the base of Mark’s throat and he paused, to glance up at Mark again. He gasped, startled, when he found that Mark’s eyes were open, that he was staring solely at Donghyuck.

In Donghyuck’s surprise, in his haste to move away, he fell back, onto the ground.

“Sorry,” he gasped, breathless, trying to figure out when Mark had woken up, how long he must have watched Donghyuck in silence.

Mark blinked, and cocked his head, “There’s no need to apologize.”

Donghyuck nodded. He searched desperately for any spark of recognition in Mark’s eyes. Donghyuck couldn’t discern whether or not Mark recognized him but-- Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat-- Mark’s face wasn’t blank. He looked on Donghyuck with what could only be termed curiosity, his eyes wide.

“If I may ask-- where am I?” Mark moved his gaze from Donghyuck, looking around the room.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to reply, but no words were coming to mind. He stared at Mark, mute, as Mark turned to face him again. His head was still cocked, his expression was still puzzled.

Ten cleared his throat, “You’re in a basement lab at SMU.”

“Interesting,” Mark didn’t look at Ten as he replied to him. He didn’t remove his eyes from Donghyuck, “Who are you?’

Donghyuck felt his heart sink. Mark didn’t remember. He didn’t know Donghyuck, nor what they’d had before.

“I’m-- ow! What was that for?” Ten’s reply and indignant outburst came.

“He wasn’t asking you.” Doyoung’s voice, aggrieved.

“That’s correct,” Mark stood, and crouched. He extended a hand to Donghyuck. Donghyuck took it, face heating as Mark pulled him up and off the ground.

“I’m sorry if that causes offense,” Mark glanced at the older boys briefly, before turning back to Donghyuck. He was still holding Donghyuck’s hand. Donghyuck could focus on little else beyond Mark’s hand in his.

“Nah, it’s cool. You’re good,” Johnny rushed to assure him.

Doyoung coughed, “Do you think we should, uh, give them some space?”

Donghyuck didn’t know whether he felt relieved or terrified, at the prospect of being alone with Mark. The only thing he knew was his heart was threatening to burst, from how rapidly it was beating.

“Yes. Take your time, kids!” Taeyong said, prompting Donghyuck duck his head to hide his blush.  

“Do we have to leave? He only just woke up!” Ten whined, splaying his hands wide, turning begging eyes to Johnny, Taeyong, and Doyoung in turn.

“Yeah,” Doyoung started stuffing Ten’s things back in his messenger bag, “We’re going. Now.”

“Your friends are fascinating,” Mark observed, as the older boys dragged Ten from the room. He peered closely at Donghyuck, “But, to be honest, you fascinate me even more.”

Mark released Donghyuck’s hand, probably long after he ought to have done. Donghyuck felt the lasting warmth from Mark’s touch like a sunburn in the wake of standing in the sun. The sound of the wooden door sliding shut behind the older boys was loud. It echoed in the empty lab.

“I do?” Donghyuck asked, still caught up on how Mark’s hand held felt. He already felt warmer than he had felt to the touch when he was the blank Mark. But not overwarm.

Mark nodded, his eyes wide. Inexplicably, he lifted his hand to his chest, to the center, where his chip lay. “Yes. Have we met before?”

Donghyuck took a measured breath, mindful of the dangerous hopeful trajectory his thoughts were headed towards. Mark recognized him, but he didn’t remember him. Ten had said he might never remember. Donghyuck shut his eyes, hard, because looking at Mark was confusing enough without Mark looking like that back at him-- like Donghyuck was a riddle he needed to unravel. He opened his eyes, and nodded.

“We know each other,” Donghyuck started, but that was half wrong. That was the past. He corrected himself, aching, “Knew each other. But then you... got your memory reset.”

That wasn’t exactly what had happened, as Donghyuck had found out. But he didn’t want to inform Mark that he’d just narrowly escaped a lobotomy so soon after Mark had woken up.

“Was I your android?” Mark asked, a dimple appearing between his brows as they knitted together.

“Yeah, Mark. You were.”

Mark blinked. Once, twice. In between blinks, his eyes lit up.

“Mark… that’s my name?”

Donghyuck nodded. Every question Mark asked that he should’ve already known the answer to made his heart ache. But Donghyuck was powerless to stop the fluttery, hopeful feeling rising within him. Maybe it didn’t matter if Mark didn’t remember. Maybe it would be enough that Mark had the ability to make memories anew.

“It is,” Donghyuck bit his lip, looking up at Mark, “and I’m Donghyuck.”

“Oh. Hello, Donghyuck,” Mark’s lips curled into a smile, as he tried out Donghyuck’s name.

Donghyuck felt his heart clench at the sight. Mark was already smiling. He’d just woken up moments ago, and he was smiling.

“Hey, Mark,” Donghyuck didn’t know whether he felt more like laughing or crying. Probably both at once. He settled for a smile, a grin that was more than a little wobbly.

At that moment, Donghyuck decided Mark would never lose another memory. He’d never forget anything, from that instance on. Donghyuck would talk to his parents, he’d convince them-- but, God, he couldn’t think of how to go about that.

Donghyuck felt his smile falter. He supposed he could talk to them about the person who had ‘fixed’ Mark for them, and the legality of that person’s methods. Maybe his parents desire not to break laws would outweigh their desire to see Mark emotionless, blank.

“You look upset. Is something wrong?” Mark asked, concern coloring his tone.

“Kinda,” Donghyuck said, honestly. As Mark’s smile started to slip from his face, Donghyuck rushed to explain, “But it’s okay! It’s getting better,” He held Mark’s gaze, amazed how at the spectrum of emotions Mark had already shown, “I’m getting better.”

✶

Outside, the sun had set. It was a clear night. The moon was just barely visible above the city skyscrapers, a bright crescent amidst the few shining stars.

Mark pulled up and stopped as they stepped outside of the engineering building. Donghyuck looked back as he noticed Mark’s presence missing by his side. He turned a questioning look to Mark, letting the older boys draw ahead without them.

Mark had been acting strange since they’d left the lab. He’d still responded to Donghyuck’s questions, still asked questions of his own. But he’d seemed-- distant, wrapped up in something internal. Donghyuck had worried, of course he had, wondering if Mark spacing out was some new side effect of the tampering done on his code. But, after pulling Ten aside and asking him privately, Ten had assured Donghyuck that there shouldn’t be any side effects. “Your ‘bot’s just a weirdo, I guess.” Ten had said, which Donghyuck, frankly, couldn’t deny.

Mark was smiling, Donghyuck delighted to see. He was smiling, up at the sky, expression thoughtful.

“What is it?” Donghyuck felt an odd thrill, knowing that Mark would answer him, would readily share what was on his mind with Donghyuck.

Mark turned his eyes, bright by nothing other than the reflection of the night’s lights, to Donghyuck.

“Did you ever memorize the name of that constellation?”

“What?” Donghyuck wasn’t sure he’d heard Mark correctly.

Mark pointed up at the stars above their heads, without moving his eyes from Donghyuck.

“The constellation-- Ursa minor,” Mark’s smile went softer, uncertain, “you said you would, right?”

Donghyuck stared at Mark, eyes widening. But that had to mean...

“I did. You remember that?”

Donghyuck had accepted, back in the lab, that Mark might never remember him. That the most likely outcome was that he’d never be able to recover his memories from before the tampering. But if Mark remembered Donghyuck’s promise to learn the name of the stars in the sky, Donghyuck wouldn’t ever be able to tamp down his hopes of recovering his Mark.

“I’m starting to remember a lot of things,” Mark’s tone was unreadable, Donghyuck realized. There was some of the excitement, some of the same relief Donghyuck was overwhelmed with contained in it, but there was something else there too.

Mark took a step closer to Donghyuck. In the low lights, he shone.

“What kinds of things?” Donghyuck felt his heartbeat accelerate, as Mark drew near.

“You, mostly.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Donghyuck wondered if Mark was just going to keep walking, right up until his shoes brushed up against Donghyuck’s.

“Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck looked up, into Mark’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“You said that I worked for you… was that all I was to you?” Mark’s expression was shy, unsure. Donghyuck bit down on the instant ‘No’ that hung onto the tip of his tongue, threatening to slip out.

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asked, instead. Mark might have been talking about anything, “You-- we’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking. You teased me, constantly.”

Mark tilted his head back and laughed. Donghyuck thought, nonsensically, that it was his first laugh after waking up. Mark’s second first laugh.

“From what I can remember, the teasing was mutual,” Mark looked him straight on, “But, no, Donghyuck. That’s not what I meant.”

Donghyuck’s mind leapt immediately-- not to what they had been before, but what he had selfishly wanted them to be. But, Donghyuck thought, Mark couldn’t have been talking about that, could he?

“‘Friend’ doesn’t explain what I felt from the moment I opened my eyes and saw you in front of me. Why, with every memory of you that comes back, the feeling’s only getting stronger,” Mark said, simply, “It feels like…,” Mark paused. For a moment, he looked frustrated, “...Like I’m scared, but I want to be. Does that make any sense?”

Donghyuck felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

“I scare you?”

“Wait, no! You don’t-- that’s not what I was trying to say,” Mark’s eyes widened. He sucked in his lower lip, and Dongyuck’s eyes followed the movement almost of their own accord, “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

Donghyuck dragged his gaze from Mark’s lips to Mark’s eyes. Mark was struggling, growing increasingly frustrated-- not with Donghyuck, but with himself. Donghyuck recalled a conversation permeated with the smell of freshly mown grass, the heat of the afternoon sun.

“You’re doing fine. You’re just new to it, right?,” Donghyuck reassured him, as best he could without knowing what was afflicting Mark.

He raised his hand, hesitated, then settled it on Mark’s shoulder. Donghyuck tried to focus not on how Mark felt beneath his touch, how warm he was. Rather, he tried to focus on exuding comfort and patience.

He didn’t mind making the older boys wait a bit. He was sure they’d understand. At that moment, he was focused on making sure Mark had the time to get out what he was struggling to say.

Mark’s eyes dropped to Donghyuck’s hand on his shoulder, before flitting back. There was a glint in his eye, a shine wholly unrelated to the lights within them.

“Donghyuck,” There was a steadiness in Mark’s voice that hadn’t been present before. Donghyuck shivered, to hear it.

“I was worried before, I think. I could map out a million possibilities but I still couldn’t ever be sure how you’d react. Fear, anger, disgust,” Mark shook his head, “But I should’ve known better. You’ve never treated me with anything but kindness.”

“I-- before? What are you talking about?”

Donghyuck felt his cheeks heat. He was partially pleased at Mark complimenting him, partially incensed that, again, Mark thought of Donghyuck’s decent treatment as something noteworthy.

“I like you,” Mark said, voice earnest and sure. Donghyuck nearly stopped breathing, “More than I should. And I still don’t know what happened, why the last few days are a dark blur, but it doesn’t matter, does it? I woke up, and before I could remember a single thing, I remembered you.”

“You like me,” Donghyuck repeated, like an idiot. He was dumbstruck. Donghyuck gasped, swallowing a lungful of air as he remembered to breathe. Mark liked him. A smile started to grow across Donghyuck’s face. Mark liked him back.

“ Yes,” Mark intoned, “You make me feel, Donghyuck-- yes, scared, but so much more than that. I look at you, and I’m filled with contradicting sensations. I feel fortunate beyond belief because, out of everyone in the world, I was sent to you. But I feel a pain that’s almost physical, because I know we can never be more than we are now. It doesn’t make sense, how you have the singular ability to make me so… so happy and so sad, all at once.”

Donghyuck’s mind raced to keep up with Mark’s confession, everything Donghyuck apparently meant to him.

“Why can’t we be more than friends?” he blurted out, still in the midst of processing.

Mark blinked, as though Donghyuck had taken him by surprise.

“I like you too,” Donghyuck felt winded, as though he’d run a million miles, “And, honestly, I don’t give a shit about whether or not I’m supposed to. So,” Donghyuck locked eyes with Mark, and didn’t look away, “Why can’t we be more?”

Mark blinked, again. He was starting to smile, too, though it was still uncertain.

“Your parents--,” Mark began, and Donghyuck felt a spike of panic.

His parents scared him, because of what they had done to Mark, what they could do again to him. But, one thing was for sure: Donghyuck didn’t care at all what they thought.

“Fuck them.”

Donghyuck listed forward. He raised his hand from Mark’s shoulder, carding his fingers through Mark’s hair. He angled Mark’s head forward and just like that, their foreheads gently bumped together.

Mark’s hair was soft in between his fingers, and soft where it fell into his face.

“You and me, Mark. When it comes to us, nobody’s thoughts matter but yours and mine.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck felt a light touch as Mark’s hand came up to the juncture of his neck and jaw, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Donghyuck laughed, slightly giddy, feeling overwhelmed.

Not only had Mark been returned to him, but Mark apparently liked him back. Had maybe even liked him for awhile. He started to draw back. Now only one thing stood between he and Mark. Or, rather, a couple.

“I guess now we have to figure out how to get my parents to let you--.”

Donghyuck’s words were lost in the ether, as Mark moved. Mark tilted his head, angled Donghyuck’s jaw, and leaned in. Mark drew closer and closer, his eyes sliding shut, until Donghyuck could practically feel the heat radiating from him.

Donghyuck just barely buried the surprised ‘Oh’ that threatened to slip from him.

“Wait, just… “ as Mark spoke, Donghyuck could feel his lips moving. They brushed up Donghyuck’s as words dropped from them, setting the nerve endings there alight,  “...before we worry about that, would you allow me…?”

Like sparks, like static electricity, the barest contact made Donghyuck feel as if he’d been shocked. Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered shut, in anticipation.

“Yes,” he exhaled.

And, as though he’d been waiting for Donghyuck’s say-so, Mark shifted. Mark’s lips were only on Donghyuck’s for the briefest moment, not even the span of a single beat of Donghyuck’s hammering heart. Then, he was pulling away, leaving Donghyuck wanting. That had barely been anything, could barely be termed a kiss.

Donghyuck chased Mark as he withdrew, trying to recapture his lips, to no avail. Mark held him back. As if in apology, he stroked the length of Donghyuck’s jaw with his thumb.

“God, you’re a tease,” Donghyuck’s voice was shaky, as he reopened his eyes. He felt thoroughly, embarrassingly unravelled. And all it had taken was one not-kiss.

“Trust me, you’ve done your fair share of being a tease too,” to Donghyuck’s relief, Mark sounded just as wrecked as him.

He looked beyond Donghyuck, and Donghyuck followed his gaze. The older boys were huddled around a street light a hundred yards away, all of them suspiciously turned away.

“Ah,” Donghyuck said, as the reality of their situation came rushing back in.

Donghyuck raised his hand, to press his fingertips to his lips. They still tingled. He glanced at Mark, curious if he’d simply imagined the electrical shocks or if they had actually occurred.

Mark’s hand slipped off of him, leaving the area feel too cold, bereft, in its wake.

“Let’s go home, Donghyuck. We’ll figure out the rest when we get there.”

Chapter Text

Johnny had offered to drive Donghyuck and Mark back to the suburbs, as Jeno had been the one who had brought them downtown. Ten had tagged along, under the guise of helping Donghyuck with his approach towards his parents.

“Okay, so,” Ten pointed at Donghyuck, “say your dad comes out with a shotgun, he’s waving it around, shouting ‘bots are scum’. What do you do then?”

Donghyuck looked hesitantly to Mark, to see how he’d react to such a scenario. Mark wrinkled his nose.

“Mister Lee doesn’t own a shotgun.”

Donghyuck felt a thin smile work its way onto his face. Of course Mark would focus on that part of what Ten had said. The one easily disputable portion. He reached out, to tap Mark’s hand where it lay atop his knee.

Mark’s eyes widened upon Donghyuck’s touch. He turned towards Donghyuck. Donghyuck felt his heart swell, as a shy smile grew on Mark’s face. He hadn’t even done anything to make him smile like that, not really.

“My dad’s still not gonna be happy, Mark. My mom too.”

“Honestly, screw them. It’s 2067, for Christ’s sake. They should get with the times,” Johnny grumbled, as he guided the car off the highway, leaving the rest of the late night commuters in the dust.

Donghyuck felt obligated to defend his parents, to say that they weren’t all that bad, they were just a little slow to adapt. Prior to a week ago, he’d respected them more than anyone else in the world. But now, he couldn’t deny a thing Johnny had said.

Donghyuck startled, as he felt a light touch at his palm. He looked at Mark, as the robot tentatively carded his fingers through Donghyuck’s, intertwining their hands.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Mark said. Donghyuck felt a surge of affection at how sincere Mark sounded, at how evident it was that he truly believed they’d be fine. He wanted to believe Mark’s words too.

But Mark hadn’t shown any indication he remembered his time as the Blank Mark. He didn’t know what Donghyuck’s parents had done to him.

“Hopefully,” Donghyuck hedged, because Mark looked happy. He was smiling, and Donghyuck wouldn’t take that for granted. Not again.

But even after he informed his parents about the questionable legality of the approach they’d taken to rid Mark of his memory, Donghyuck still couldn’t believe they’d leave it at that. They might take him to get reset officially, at NCTech. They might send Mark away, sell him, dismantle him.

A soft clicking noise roused Donghyuck from his spiralling thoughts. Mark’s seatbelt retracted, as Mark slid across the length of the backseat to sit at his side.

Mark was grinning.

“I mean it,” he said, in a low tone meant for Donghyuck’s ears alone. Donghyuck pressed his lips together. He could smile, but he couldn’t match the wattage of Mark’s grin. Not as Johnny turned onto a familiar street, and he spotted his house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Mark followed Donghyuck’s gaze, saw where he was looking. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he leaned in closer. Donghyuck’s eyes were drawn down, to Mark’s mouth. He thought of the jolt he had felt at merely barely meeting them. He wondered what it’d feel like, if they kissed properly.  

When Mark spoke, his voice was a whisper.

“Donghyuck, for as long as I’ve wanted anything, I’ve wanted you.”

“What-- seriously?” Donghyuck exclaimed. All of his dark, pessimistic thoughts were shunted aside at Mark’s revelation. He pressed his hands to his cheeks, feeling them go hot underneath his fingers. Want.

“Seriously,” Mark’s eyes shone, reflecting the yellowed streetlights outside the car’s windows, “So I’m kinda determined to make sure they won’t separate us.”

“I think we’re here,” Ten announced suddenly, louder than was entirely necessary.

Donghyuck felt the car roll to a stop and looked up, making eye contact with Johnny in the car’s rearview mirror. Automatically, his face went hotter. He laughed, nervously, and went to unbuckle his seatbelt. Unfortunately, his fingers brushed up against Mark as he moved.

Donghyuck stilled, and his eyes flitted back to Mark. He thought that maybe he could see the determination Mark had spoken of, in the set of his brow, in the glint of his eyes. With that thought in mind, an unexpected sense of calm took over him. His fears began to subside, just enough to let him begin to breathe easier.

“Don’t forget to tell your parents how it’s super illegal what they did to Mark. Throw around words like ‘intellectual property’ and ‘aggressive teams of copyright lawyers’,” Ten supplied, helpfully.

“Also, Taeyong mentioned something about it being inhumane, cruel, and detestable,” Johnny pitched in.

“Yeah, I think I recall him mentioning those words, among others, several times,” Ten turned back to face Johnny, a lopsided, saccharine grin on his face.

Mark mouthed the word inhumane, his brows drawing together in his confusion. Donghyuck winced. He supposed he’d have to tell Mark about the lobotomy. He couldn’t keep it from him forever, as much as he wanted to.

Donghyuck made sure to thank Johnny and Ten before he slipped out of Johnny’s car. He couldn’t believe the lengths they, along Taeyong and Doyoung, had gone for he and Mark. Jeno too. Donghyuck decided he owed him a bit more than a thank you. Maybe an apology was in order.

“You’re welcome, kid. Don’t let this be the last we see of each other, okay? I want to show you around SMU sometime before fall,” Johnny saluted Donghyuck.

He nodded at Mark, unsure. Donghyuck supposed that half the time Johnny had known Mark, Mark had been a soulless husk of himself. Johnny hadn’t had the chance to get to know him, not yet anyways. It ached, but Donghyuck understood that it might take Johnny awhile to come around to him.

Ten, on the other hand, had no such hesitation.

“It was really our pleasure. You know, if you ever want me to take another look at Mark’s code, maybe bypass a few safety protocols, just jailbreak him a little--.”

“--Maybe some other time,” Donghyuck blurted out. Once more, he could feel the heat in his cheeks flaring up.

Mark looked curiously at Ten, though, “What kind of safety protocols?”

Donghyuck made a strained noise, as his imagination started going wild again. He had a brief, visceral image of Mark with a flamethrower. Mark’s eyes flicked to him, at the sound he’d made and he apologetically agreed that, yes, if Ten wanted to do that, it would be a discussion for another time.

Donghyuck waited until Johnny’s car had turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared before he spun to face the house. He took a deep breath. The moon was out, the stars were shining, and the longest day of Donghyuck’s life wasn’t even near completion.

Donghyuck paused at the doormat to their family’s front door. He looked down, at the ‘Welcome’ printed in bold across it. He thought of his parents, wondered where they might be, whether they’d already gone to bed, what they’d eaten for dinner without Mark there to cook for them. He wondered how they’d react, how their faces would twist, when he told them the truth of where he and Mark had been, of what he had found out about what they had done to Mark.

Donghyuck felt a tremor start to appear, just a slight shake in his hand. He tried to ignore it, tried to quash his nerves. He rummaged for his keys, but he fumbled as fished them out of his pocket and they fell to the mat below.

“Shit.”

Donghyuck knelt, reached for the keys only for Mark’s hand to close over them first. Donghyuck’s gaze rose from Mark’s hand to Mark’s eyes. Donghyuck’s cheeks were burning-- he couldn’t even take out his keys without messing it up. His embarrassment was worsened because couldn’t see much in the dim light. He couldn’t tell why Mark was looking at him so intently.

Donghyuck cast his eyes down as Mark took his hand and guided him up, kept them fixed to the ground as he pressed the keys into Donghyuck’s grasp. Mark hesitated to pull his hand away, and that’s when Donghyuck knew he’d been found out. There was no way Mark could have missed the tremor.

“Donghyuck,” Mark’s voice was soft-- out of fear of being overheard or something less obvious, Donghyuck couldn’t have said, “We can pull this off. Your parents may not think too highly of me, but they’ll listen to you.”

Donghyuck didn’t have the heart to tell Mark that they hadn’t had any problems with ignoring him before, when they’d turned around and erased Mark right after he’d told them how he felt towards the robot. He curled his fingers into a fist over the keys, grasping them hard enough that the plastic edges dug into his palm. Then Donghyuck looked up at Mark, and plastered on a smile.

“Yeah, of course. You’re right,” he tried a laugh, grasping for something more he could say, “Hey, a good luck kiss couldn’t hurt though, could it?”

Donghyuck had the feeling they’d need all the luck they could get.

Mark’s mouth twisted. Donghyuck waited a beat, then another, holding his breath. Then, Mark shook his head and smiled, and Donghyuck could breathe again.

“Is that a real thing people do or do you just want another kiss?”

Suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to maintain his smile. Donghyuck grinned.

“Yes.”

Mark’s hand flew up to his mouth, but his fingers poorly masked the unmistakable sound of laughter. Donghyuck, as hopeless as he was, felt like laughing along with him.

“You’re unbelievable, you know?” Mark drew his hand down. His grin was gone, replaced with a soft smile, “Nothing about you makes sense, not even the things you say.”

“Ah, well, there’s no fun in making sense. Thought it was worth a try to ask, anyways.”

Donghyuck twirled his keys around his finger. He only maintained the spin briefly, before they started to slip off and he had to scramble to catch them. He laughed a short, discomfited laugh-- hoping that slip up had escaped Mark’s notice-- then moved to scan his key.

And Donghyuck realized, sometime when he hadn’t even been looking, the tremor had nearly vanished. His hand was barely shaking at all. He wanted to turn, to share one last look with Mark while they remained alone, before they faced his parents.

Before he could, though, he was stopped in his tracks. Lips, warm and softer than anything, pressed flush to Donghyuck’s cheek. They were gone in an instant, but the tingling sensation they left in their wake lasted.

Donghyuck turned to Mark, as he’d first planned, but he was sure he looked less composed than he had intended. His face was heated, all over, but the point where Mark had kissed him burned hotter than the rest.

Mark was wearing an uncertain expression.

“For luck, right?” he asked, seemingly seeking confirmation he hadn’t mistaken Donghyuck.

Donghyuck peered into Mark’s eyes, shining in the night. He desired nothing other than to pause the world and live with Mark, in that moment in time, forever.

“Yeah,” But Donghyuck couldn’t do that. One way or another, he’d have to face his parents, “For luck.”

“...So let me get this straight. Lee Jeno lied to us and claimed you and Mark were working on a school project at his house, when in reality you were…,” Donghyuck’s father trailed off.

His reading glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked in utter confusion from Donghyuck to Mark. Donghyuck winced, and issued a mental apology to Jeno. He hadn’t meant to throw him under the bus.

“At SMU campus, getting whatever operation you had done to Mark uh,” Donghyuck paused, wondered what the technical term for what Ten had done to Mark’s chip was, before he conceded and settled on, “undone.”

Donghyuck sensed more than saw Mark twitch, to his side, a half step behind him.

“And you mentioned something about that being illegal?” Donghyuck’s father’s glasses slipped further down his nose. Whatever he was reading on his tablet lay forgotten in front of him on the kitchen table.

“No!” Donghyuck rushed to explain, raising up his hands, “No! What my friend did to Mark wasn’t illegal. What you and mom had done to him, though,” Donghyuck paused. There was no easy way to tell his father, though, “that was.”

Donghyuck’s father frowned, “Now, really, Duckie. You might not have liked what we did, but that doesn’t make it illegal.”

Donghyuck’s aggravation was starting to boil over. He couldn’t explain this well enough, and his father wasn’t attempting to understand him. He’d still take a frustratingly dense father over an angry one any day, but he felt tested.

“No, dad. The person you went to for Mark’s ‘problem’,” he made the air quotes evident in his tone, sensed Mark shift behind him again, “they didn’t work for NCTech, did they?”

Donghyuck’s father’s eye twitched.

“No, your mother found his listing online.”

Donghyuck felt a spark, a brief moment of elation. He was starting to get through.

“And what he did to Mark, it involved changing his code, right?”

“I don’t purport to know--”
“Dad.” Donghyuck couldn’t believe his father was feigning ignorance. God, he hoped he was just feigning it. Or maybe he didn’t hope that. He didn’t know what was worse-- his father knowingly seeking out illegal lobotomies, or unknowingly stumbling into one.

“...I guess it might have.”

Donghyuck only just held back from shouting ‘gotcha’. His lip curled, his success bittersweet.

“That’s illegal.”

Donghyuck’s father still held up a semblance of skepticism at first but, as Donghyuck explained with what he remembered from what Ten had told him, and with helpful legal citations from Mark, they finally got through to him. Donghyuck’s father removed his glasses and rubbed circles into his sinuses, as though his head had started to ache. Then, he got up and fetched Donghyuck’s mother, brought her back to the kitchen though she’d clearly already turned in for the night.

Donghyuck explained, more easily the second time around, the events and revelations of the night to his mother. He watched her face shift and change, morphing into an expression of shock and shame before his eyes.

She only just pulled back a chair before falling into it, with less grace than she normally managed. Her fluffy slippers slid on the against the tiled floor, the only sound in the quiet kitchen.

“We didn’t know,” she said.

“We wouldn’t have gone to that man, if we’d known,” she repeated. Her eyes were wide as she stared imploringly at Donghyuck, “We just wanted that robot to stop pretending it was a person. We wanted it to stop getting you caught up in its delusions.”

Donghyuck felt like his blood boiling. He opened his mouth to correct her, to tell her that if anyone was delusional it was her and his father. Thinking Mark was just a brainless automaton, that he couldn’t grow to feel as fully as they felt.

“Mom,” he began, seething, only to hear his name called out in a measured tone, from behind him.

“Donghyuck.”

He looked back to Mark, the red haze receding from his vision. Mark subtly shook his head. Donghyuck looked at him in disbelief-- how could he stand there and just take it as Donghyuck’s mother accused him of playing pretend?

Mark jutted his chin out, silent, back at Donghyuck’s mother. Confused, Donghyuck turned back.

His mother didn’t look defensive and upset, as she had when Donghyuck had first asked her about the Blank Mark so many days ago. Rather, she the tension in her features, the uncertain way she held herself bore all the hallmarks of fear. Donghyuck hesitated. But she had never been concerned about Mark, or his emotions, or his memories before.

She was only scared, Donghyuck realized, because she thought she and his father had broken a law in their pursuit to erase Mark.

But, Donghyuck paused, she was still his mother, and she was frightened.

“Mom, it’s… it’s okay. You guys weren’t the ones who broke a law,” Donghyuck’s voice shook. Though he was still simmering, still on the verge of boiling over, he would have said just about anything to reassure his mother and wipe that look from her face.

He could feel the flashdrive Ten had given him, the one with a copy of Mark’s altered code, burning a hole in his pocket. But Donghyuck had never intended to use it, “I wouldn’t do anything even if you had.”

“I knew-- I knew it seemed too good to be true,” Donghyuck’s mother leaned forward in her chair. She propped her forehead up against her fingers, “He said he’d be able to make the robot act more like a robot… we didn’t bother asking how .”

The man they’d gone to had done it by carving Mark up, cutting him into pieces. Donghyuck had to shut his eyes, had to remind himself of Mark’s warning to maintain control. It was getting harder and harder not to blow up at his parents.

“Did Mark showing emotions bother you that much?” he asked, conscious of Mark at his back. Mark wasn’t shifting or twitching anymore. He had gone completely still.

Donghyuck’s mother met his eyes through the gaps in her fingers. She lowered her hands. Quietly, she said, “It wasn’t ever about the robot.”

It confirmed everything Donghyuck had already feared, that it had been solely due to him that his parents had had Mark’s memory and emotions excised. The guilt upon hearing the confirmation felt like a physical hurt, like a hand had seized his heart and squeezed it.

“Your mother didn’t want you to get your heart broken, Duckie,” Donghyuck’s father looked completely out of his element, uncomfortable.

It was a fine line, Donghyuck thought, between fury and despair. So fine a line, he hadn’t noticed when his feelings had morphed and he had crossed over from anger to anguish. He was still shaking, still worked up, but suddenly tears were pricking at his eyes and he had to blink furiously to clear them.

He swallowed around the sudden lump that had appeared in his throat. But his voice was still odd when he spoke, as if it was blocked, muddled by some foreign object.

“Then you shouldn’t have taken him from me.”

Donghyuck could only maintain eye contact with his mother for a moment before he had to tear his gaze away. He bit his lip and looked to the side, to the kitchen window. Tried to focus on the way the gauzy curtains fluttered in the intermittent gusts of wind that blew in.

He gasped, surprised, when a hand curled over his closed fist. Mark gently pushed Donghyuck’s hand open, slipping their hands together, intertwining their fingers. When Donghyuck looked up from their intertwined hands to Mark, he saw a look in Mark’s eyes he didn’t think he’d ever seen in them before.

The dark of Mark’s irises looked almost molten in the intensity with which Mark was staring at him. Molten, superheated with some unidentifiable emotion which made it hard for Donghyuck to catch his breath for another reason entirely.

Donghyuck’s father cleared his throat, and the charged moment between he and Mark shattered like glass. Donghyuck turned his eyes to his parents, Mark’s hand burning within his.

“What?” he asked, in part scared, in part annoyed.

“ That ,” Donghyuck’s father looked pointedly down, at their joined hands, “can’t happen. Not while you’re under this roof.”

Donghyuck’s mother started tapping her foot, the fluff on her slippers bouncing with the rapidfire movement.

“The robot doesn’t need to be here for this discussion,” she looked, nervously at Mark. For the first time, she looked at his face. Donghyuck was morbidly gratified to see how hard it was for her to maintain eye contact when she had to confront how utterly human he looked, “Mark, you’re dismissed. Go… go sweep the floor, or something.”

Mark looked torn, as he turned from Donghyuck’s mother to Donghyuck. Donghyuck inhaled, then nodded at Mark. After Mark released his hand, he felt bereft, like a part of him had gone missing. But Donghyuck knew it wouldn’t do to aggravate his parents, not while Mark’s fate rested in their hands.

Mark shared one last glance with Donghyuck before he walked from the kitchen. The molten intensity in his eyes was tempered, cooled by the fear that contorted the rest of his features. Donghyuck would have to tread carefully. He’d have to try and be diplomatic with his parents in a way he never had before, to make sure Mark no longer had reason to look afraid.

Donghyuck’s mother stared at the kitchen entryway long after Mark’s back had disappeared beyond it, her mouth twisted.

“So this is an actual discussion now? You guys aren’t just going to take Mark to get another lobotomy the second I turn my back?” Donghyuck blurted out, then immediately regretted it. One second after Mark had left, and his self control was already rapidly vanishing.

“Don’t-- don’t use that word again, Duckie. We didn’t know ,” Donghyuck’s father shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“No,” Donghyuck’s mother’s voice was tremulous, diminished, “I don’t know what you think of us, sweetie. I don’t know what kind of people you think we are, but we wouldn’t take Mark to be operated on again, not knowing what we know now.”

For the first time since he’d stepped foot back in the house, Donghyuck felt something like relief. But not enough to ease his desperation, not by a long shot.

“What about selling him? Getting rid of him? Resetting him at NCT? You’re honestly not going to try that, either?”

It wouldn’t surprise Donghyuck. His parents seemed to be dead set on the idea that Mark could never love him back, could never have true feelings for him. And, Donghyuck had a sickening thought, at that point he wasn’t sure what kind of people he thought his parents were either.

“Heck no. We’re not selling it,” Donghyuck’s father leaned forward, in such abrupt an outburst that both Donghyuck and his mother jumped. Donghyuck’s father turned to his wife, shrugging, sheepish.

“The boys already think it’s better than Jensen’s, but they’ve barely seen it do anything yet. I can’t wait to see Jensen blow up when he sees what Mark’s fully capable of.”

“Hm,” Donghyuck’s mother looked displeased, yet too tired to argue, “You know what? Fine. I guess we can keep him-- it. We can keep it.”

Donghyuck exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He couldn’t wait to tell Mark that his omelette making skills had played a role in saving him from being sold.

“And the reset,” Donghyuck said, with urgency, “you won’t reset him? You’ll let him keep his memories?”

For some reason, Donghyuck had the oddest sense that it wouldn’t matter. That Mark was exceptional. He felt Mark would be able to retain his memories through an official reset, even if everyone under the sky said he couldn’t.

But, even with that odd feeling, Donghyuck had to hear his parents say it. Had to know they wouldn’t try anything else, so he could sleep easy with the knowledge that Mark would be kept safe and whole.

Donghyuck’s mother looked thoughtful, conflicted. It was that conflict warring across her features that set alight the dangerous fluttering, hopeful feeling within Donghyuck. Where she was torn, there was hope for Mark yet.

“We won’t reset him,” Donghyuck’s mother said. Before Donghyuck could even begin to let himself bask in overwhelming relief, she continued, “For some godforsaken reason, that robot makes you happy. We won’t touch him, on one condition.”

“Sure. Anything,” Donghyuck nodded readily, greedily.

A grin started to grow on his face. Mark, he thought desperately, you might be right. We might just pull this off after all.

“Don’t involve yourself with the robot. Calling him your friend is fine, but don’t refer to him as anything else, anything more than that. You can’t say you love him anymore, Donghyuck, not when he can’t love you back.”

Donghyuck struggled with two contrasting desires that flamed up within him at his mother’s ultimatum. He could keep his promise to Mark. He could throw caution to the wind, say what he wanted to say. That Mark and he liked each other and that they were going to be more than friends, whether his parents liked it or not.

Or Donghyuck could give up on what he wanted. He could stay friends with Mark, and nothing more. He’d have to break his promise. He’d have to go back to a status quo that he’d probably never be able to fully accept, not that he knew Mark liked him back. That was the option that would keep Mark safe.

And that, Donghyuck realized with a sinking heart, made it the only viable option.

“I-- yeah. No more love talk, got it,” Donghyuck clenched, and unclenched his hand. The action did little to relieve his feelings of helplessness, of resignation, “I won’t get involved with him, either.”

Donghyuck’s mother sighed a weary sigh, and pushed herself up and out of her chair.

“Good. That’s decided. Please remember, we’re doing this for your sake, sweetie. To protect your feelings,” She shook her head. The bags under her eyes were dark and prominent, making her look haunted, older than her years, “I’m going back to bed.”

“‘Night, hon. I’ll join you in a bit. Just gotta finish reading this real quick,” Donghyuck’s father said, before turning back to his tablet.

He started grumbling under his breath. Donghyuck caught the words ‘can’t trust’ and ‘misleading advertising’, and surmised his father was still put out about Mark’s operation being illegal. Good, Donghyuck thought bitterly, let him regret it, let him feel a modicum of the pain he’d inflicted.

“I’m gonna go too,” Donghyuck said, hollow. He had to let Mark know that he’d been nearly right after all. Donghyuck had almost pulled it off. Mark would be able to keep his mind. But that good luck kiss would be the last kiss they’d ever share.  

“What? Yeah, sure. Sleep tight, Duckie.”

Donghyuck’s father didn’t even spare him a glance, as he trudged from the room, with heavy feet and a sunken heart.

Donghyuck wondered where Mark had gone, once he’d made himself scarce. He didn’t have to wonder long-- he nearly tripped over Mark as he turned a corner towards the stairs.

Mark reached forward to steady Donghyuck as he wobbled, off balance. His hand went up to seize Donghyuck’s forearm. Donghyuck didn’t have the heart to shake him off. This, at least, he could delude himself into thinking was just normal contact between friends.

“Fuck, Mark,” he whispered, as he caught his breath, “There’s… good news and bad news.”

Mark’s expression was unreadable in the dark. The only part of him that Dongyhuck could pick out were his eyes, from the way they shone, all opalescent and inviting. Donghyuck’s heart ached, even though he was relieved.

“The good news is that you’re safe,” Donghyuck wanted to pause, gather his thoughts, but perhaps it would be best to just break it to Mark quickly. It’d be like ripping off a band-aid, “The bad news is that it’s conditional on us not dating. I know I said I didn’t care what they thought, and I still don’t but, Mark. We have to stay friends. It’s the only way they would promise not to reset you. You know I couldn’t-- I couldn’t bear to let that happen to you.”

“Donghyuck,” Mark spoke in a whisper, cutting Donghyuck’s rambling short. He must have broke out into a grin, because Donghyuck caught his teeth glinting, “I was listening in. You don’t need to explain anything.”

Donghyuck’s heart nearly stopped. Mark was smiling. Why was Mark smiling?

“Are you sure I don’t?” Donghyuck asked, confused.

He’d thought Mark would be more upset with him, that he’d given in so easily. Donghyuck was angry with himself, for agreeing to his mother’s demands before she’d even said them.

“I’m sure,” Mark reached forward, his grin broadening. He reached out and brushed Donghyuck’s bangs aside, tucking the longest strands behind his ear. Donghyuck’s breath caught in his throat.

“I don’t mind keeping us a secret from your parents. Do you?”

And just like that, Donghyuck understood Mark’s grin. Donghyuck felt that fluttery feeling deep in his chest, felt happy and relieved beyond what he thought he had any right to feel. Mark’s suggestion of keeping their relationship secret would work, he thought, but.

But Donghyuck kind of hated it. He hated that just because of his parents’ prejudice he and Mark could never be open about their relationship in their own home. If they wanted to talk, their conversations would have to be clandestine. Kisses would have to be stolen, secret.

“You deserve more than that,” Donghyuck said, honestly.  

Mark wasn’t some dirty secret for him, something to keep hidden out of fear of what people might say or do. Mark didn’t deserve what Donghyuck could give him now, with his promise to his parents. He deserved more. In time, Donghyuck could only hope he’d be able to show him that.

“You-- you really don’t know all you’ve done for me, all you’ve already given me. I don’t know about deserving… but, right now, I have everything I’ve ever wanted,” Mark’s voice was laden with something heated that sent shivers down Donghyuck’s spine, “I said I was determined to keep us together. This is how, Donghyuck. This is how we can stay together.”

Mark shifted, his body angling towards Donghyuck. Donghyuck wondered if he ought to close his eyes, if Mark was going to kiss him, properly. Then, he heard Mark burst out into a muffled peal of soft laughter. Mark grasped onto Donghyuck’s hoodie sleeve, and tugged.

Mark led Donghyuck to the stairs, releasing his sleeve when they reached them. Donghyuck followed him as he walked up. With every step they ascended, Donghyuck’s heart beat faster. He’d long since given up on trying to figure Mark out, but it didn’t stop his mind from speculating wildly as Mark led him up the stairs, to Donghyuck's bedroom.

But he didn’t stop there. Mark kept walking, right up to Donghyuck’s window. He parted the curtains and shoved up the window panel. Then Mark stepped out, halfway through, onto the roof ledge beneath Donghyuck’s window. He turned back, and extended his hand out to Donghyuck.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Donghyuck asked, though he felt as if he already knew the answer to his own question.

In lieu of answering, Mark just smiled.

“Come on, Donghyuck. Take my hand.”

Stifling laughter, Donghyuck did as he was told. He took Mark’s hand, held steady onto it as he clambered through his window and out onto the roof.

Donghyuck looked out, beyond the trees and his neighbors’ rooftops, to where the city skyline lay. The tall skyscrapers, black streaks in the night sky, with the stars as their backdrop. He smirked, as his father’s upset tone floated to the top of his mind. Not while you’re under this roof .

“You know,” Donghyuck turned to Mark, “I think you might have taken what my dad said a bit more literally than he’d intended.”

Mark shrugged, “Maybe. Then again, maybe your parents should know by now that it’s important to be specific when they’re talking to a robot.”

Donghyuck looked on at Mark. His eyes were glinting with suppressed laughter, his smile was subtle and fond. And Donghyuck was filled with affection, with surety. He knew, without a doubt, that through whatever obstacles they’d face from then on, they’d have each other.  

Mark stepped forward as easily as if he were walking on level ground, rather than on an angled rooftop. Donghyuck stilled, partially because of the risk of falling, but mostly because Mark was angling towards him. The drop to the ground below had nothing on the grinning boy in front of him, not when it came to making his heart race.

Mark raised his hand, brushed his thumb against Donghyuck’s lower lip, stealing his breath with just one touch. Then, Mark leaned in.

Once more, he stopped just shy of Donghyuck’s lips. Donghyuck wondered if this was going to be a thing, with him. If it was something he could ever get used to.

Mark lowered his hand and placed it square on Donghyuck’s chest.

“Your heart,” he said, low, “It’s beating so fast.”

“I know,” Donghyuck replied, a little surly. He was embarrassed that Mark had noticed, wished he wouldn’t mention it again.

“You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t let you fall,” Mark assured Donghyuck, misinterpreting the reason behind his racing heart entirely and sending it beating to an even quicker rhythm.

Mark pulled back, looking at Donghyuck in concern. Donghyuck only barely suppressed a sigh of exasperation. Of all things, his heart was preventing Mark from kissing him.

“Here,” Mark said, quickly, withdrawing his hand from Donghyuck’s chest and grabbing Donghyuck’s hand, “Sit. It might calm you.”

Donghyuck highly doubted that, but he still assented as Mark guided him down onto the rooftop, until they were seated side by side. Mark placed his hand on Donghyuck’s chest again, frowning when he found it hadn’t slowed. Donghyuck’s impatience reached a boiling point. He turned, curling his body to face Mark.

“Would you just kiss me already?”

Mark blinked, “I-- do you feel safer now?”

“Screw this.”

Donghyuck decided perhaps a demonstration of how little he needed tending to was in order. He moved quickly, recklessly slinging his leg over Mark. He dropped down onto Mark’s lap, then raised both his hands, framing Mark’s face with his palms.

Before he think better of it or chicken out, Donghyuck was saying, “Mark. My heart’s going crazy because I’m in love with you and you won’t kiss me.”

Shit. That was out there now.

Donghyuck, frankly, was beyond caring. He’d had his fair share of denial, of running away. He was sick and tired of letting his fears dictate his actions. So what if he loved Mark, and Mark had previously only admitted to liking him? Donghyuck didn’t let himself freak out. He just searched Mark’s face for some negative reaction to his admission, and made himself remain calm in the meantime.

Mark looked away from him, looked down. His gaze dropped to Donghyuck’s chest, to the same spot where his hand had lain only moments before. His brows drew together.

“Is that what this is, that I’m feeling?” Mark asked, his voice the sole sound in the night, “Love?”

Donghyuck felt the word like an arrow to his chest, like he’d been struck. His brief surge of confidence drained, and he slumped back onto Mark’s thighs, his hands falling from Mark’s face.

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck confessed, “You’re the only one who can decide that.”

God, but he hoped Mark decided he loved Donghyuck. He didn’t care if Mark didn’t love him now, if it’d take him weeks or years. He just hoped that, eventually, Mark would come to feel the same way.

Mark’s eyes flicked up to Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck was taken aback by the sudden intensity in them, the once they’d shifted in an instant. Once again, they looked molten, heated with that unidentifiable emotion.

“I think I love you,” Mark said.

Donghyuck inhaled, sharply.

“You don’t have to say it just ‘cause I said it, you know.”

He needed to make sure Mark was aware. He didn’t know if Mark would take it back, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Mark only saying it out of a sense of obligation.

Mark shook his head.

“I know I love you, Donghyuck. Love-- that’s the feeling I couldn’t put into words, the one I felt when I first opened my eyes and saw you,” Mark’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Donghyuck eyes were drawn down, to the spot of shine that was left behind.

Mark grinned. His smile was timid, but there was a wicked gleam in his eyes, “If it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to kiss you now.”

“Uh,” Donghyuck barely managed to reply, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

Without another moment’s hesitation, Mark leaned forward. His legs bent as he moved, and Donghyuck nearly fell, nearly landed on the roof slats. But then Mark’s hand came up to steady him, holding fast to the small of Donghyuck’s back, rucking up the hem of Donghyuck’s hoodie.

At the same time as he saved Donghyuck from falling, Mark’s free hand went to Donghyuck’s face. Mark held Donghyuck’s jaw in a light, gentle grasp even as he rushed in and eagerly kissed Donghyuck.

There was that jolt again, that electrical shock that travelled from Donghyuck’s lips to his toes. Maybe he hadn’t imagined it, the first time. Mark’s lips were soft, smooth as they moved and slotted against Donghyuck’s as if they were made to fit there.

His lips were still damp, Donghyuck realized. They were probably still wet from his tongue and, oh, that was something Donghyuck definitely needed to explore.

Donghyuck shifted for the first time since Mark’s mouth had latched onto his. He pushed forward, onto his knees, causing Mark to fall back against the roof behind him. Donghyuck threw an arm out to steady himself against the rooftop as he tongued the seam of Mark’s lips, testing them.

“Oh.”

Donghyuck would have had difficulty catching anything from the single syllable even under normal circumstances, even if his mind hadn’t short circuited the moment Mark had said he loved him. He had no idea if he’d gone too far.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck whispered, taking the moment to catch his breath. His heart was still racing, “Was that okay?”

“Donghyuck,” Mark spoke his name with urgency, with a note Donghyuck had never heard in Mark’s voice before. Need. Donghyuck couldn’t suppress the full-body shiver it evoked in him.

Mark pressed back against Donghyuck, opening up for him. Donghyuck hesitated briefly, just a moment to gather his wits, before flicking his tongue out and licking into Mark’s mouth. Donghyuck sighed as he felt Mark start to move his tongue against Donghyuck’s.

At first Mark only returned the kiss slowly, experimentally, hesitant. He only seemed to grow surer, more confident, after Donghyuck let out an exhalation pitched high enough it might as well have been a whimper.

Donghyuck drew back, panting. He hadn’t known what he’d been expecting, but Mark’s mouth was no different from that of any other he’d kissed before. Except, of course, for the fact that it belonged to Mark. He was surprised to discover that Mark tasted of ozone. Of the sweet, sharp atmosphere that hung in the air during the lull of a thunderstorm.

Donghyuck grinned against Mark’s lips as he moved back in to kiss him again. He kind of liked it.

✶

Donghyuck woke up, feeling blurry and utterly content. He squinted at the sun streaming through his window, trying to recall why his lips felt swollen and his thighs burned. Then, it all came back to him in a rush. He groaned, in embarrassment. His last conscious memories before he’d fallen asleep-- Mark’s lips on his, Mark’s body pinned under him.

Donghyuck pulled his blanket over his head, cutting the light off, hiding his blush from the rising sun. He’d fallen asleep in the midst of making out with Mark, he realized, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He couldn’t have guessed at which point he’d slumped over and fallen asleep. It had been difficult to gauge the passage of time-- it could’ve been an hour in, but it might have been four. And after he’d fallen asleep Mark had somehow painstakingly carried him in through the window.

He wondered about that, about how Mark had slept. Wondered when he had woken up, and whether he’d risen thinking of Donghyuck, as Donghyuck was thinking of him.

Donghyuck could only put off facing whatever lay downstairs for him for so long. He’d showered, and afterwards he’d stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He prodded at his lips and wondered if his parents would be able to know from the moment they laid eyes on him that he’d spent hours of the night kissing Mark.

Then, Donghyuck had finally steeled his nerves and crept out from his room. He slowed at the entrance to the kitchen, as heard a pair of voices conversing within.

He walked in.

Mark was at the stove, swirling a frying pan. He looked up as Donghyuck walked in. His face was near-blank. It was a close enough approximation to the blank Mark that Donghyuck’s parents were probably fooled, but Donghyuck instantly zeroed in on Mark’s eyes. They were dead giveaways, their warm intensity.

It was hard to read from his eyes alone if he was bothered that Donghyuck had fallen asleep in the middle of kissing him, though. Donghyuck felt a flush rising to his face. He and Mark had kissed for hours.

“Crepe?” Mark asked Donghyuck, gesturing with the pan at a plate by the stove, stacked high with crepes. It was such an innocuous question, but Donghyuck didn’t have to wonder why Mark was acting so reserved.  

Donghyuck spotted his father out of the corner of his eye, seated at the kitchen table with a plate of half eaten crepes in front of him, his tablet in hand.

Donghyuck’s heartbeat ratcheted up. He could do this. He’d always been shit at deception, but this was deception for a purpose, for a far more important cause than he’d ever had cause to lie before. He looked back at Mark.

Mark’s eyes glinted, as though this was just another joke between he and Donghyuck. A game. Donghyuck felt a weight lifted off him. Mark wasn’t bothered Donghyuck had fallen asleep last night, then.

“I’ll take a few. Somehow, I managed to work up a bit of an appetite overnight,” Donghyuck said, and he was proud of how even his voice sounded, “Can you make them with strawberries and nutella?”

“Of course,” Mark answered, voice toneless. As he looked away to slip the crepe he was making from the pan and onto a plate, Donghyuck spotted the corner of his mouth twitch.

Donghyuck smiled as he slid into a seat by his father. He looked up as Donghyuck sat down, his expression one of abject curiosity.

“Whatcha reading?” Donghyuck asked, quickly, to distract him.

“Oh, it’s really neat!” Donghyuck’s father extended the tablet, forgetting in an instant whatever he’d meant to ask Donghyuck, “You know the progress they’re making with bringing bees back? This article’s about how the bee comeback will lead to the spread of wild fruits….”

Donghyuck nodded indulgently, pretending to listen, pretending to scan the article. In reality, he kept sneaking glances of Mark as he worked. He watched secretly as Mark pushed his sleeves up his forearms, as he started chopping strawberries and drizzling nutella.

Donghyuck’s furtive looks travelled up to Mark’s lips. He wondered if he was just seeing things, or if Mark’s lips looked a little fuller, and little pinker today. He moved his eyes from Mark’s lips only to find that Mark was looking back at him.

Donghyuck blinked, caught. Mark shook his head, his blank mask cracking for long enough for Donghyuck to spy a warm smile cross his features. Then he carefully retrained his features and dropped his gaze back to his work. Donghyuck smirked to himself, nodding at whatever his father was droning on about. It might’ve had something to do with flowers, he thought.

He couldn’t have told you, not for the life of him, not with his mind filled with the memory of kissing Mark, and the exhilarating thought that he’d definitely get the chance to do it again.

✶

Things were touch and go, at first. Donghyuck’s parents seemed to always be around, watching, eyes peeled. But Donghyuck and Mark made do.

During the days, they kept a civil distance. Mark acted the part of the polite, obedient house butler. Donghyuck acted the part of the dutiful son. Donghyuck tried hard to subdue his instinctual reactions when Mark looked at him, or when his blank face disappeared for a moment and his smile shone through.

It was more difficult than he could have ever anticipated to keep his emotions in check. His only consolation was that Mark assured him it was just as hard for him.

The nights were theirs, though. After the lights went out, after Donghyuck’s parents went to sleep, Mark trekked up to Donghyuck’s room. Half the time was passed in conversation, out on the ledge under Donghyuck’s window.

Mark would ask Donghyuck questions about human quirks he didn’t quite understand. Donghyuck would badger Mark about his goals and dreams outside of just working for Donghyuck’s parents for the rest of his life. Music, Mark kept circulating back to. If he ever got out, he’d want to make music.

Donghyuck would always be the first to fall silent on the nights they talked, no matter how hard he tried to stay awake. And he’d always wake up the next morning, in his bed, the curtains drawn half closed.

The remaining half of their nights were spent rectifying Mark’s confession that he had no real idea how he was supposed to kiss. Donghyuck didn’t know whether to be stressed or pleased at how much Mark wanted Donghyuck to teach him, at how thorough he wanted his education to be.

Thankfully, it was easy enough to hide the evidence of their late nights from his parents. With their shallow glances and brief surveying looks, it was no wonder they never caught on to Mark and Donghyuck’s kiss swollen lips, or even the occasional hickey that dotted Donghyuck’s collarbones. Donghyuck didn’t know what it was-- if his parents were so convinced in their robot’s obedience or if they were just willfully blind-- but they’d shown no hints of suspicion regarding he and Mark.

Weeks passed and Donghyuck began to breathe easier. With time, his parents no longer bat an eye when Donghyuck informed them he was going to the mall with his friends and that Mark would be tagging along. His mother no longer watched him whenever he spoke with Mark, since they had taken care that the topics would appear to be inane.

With his parents’ relaxation came freedom, new opportunities for Mark to discover things about the world he’d never had the chance to before. Donghyuck and Mark had taken to sneaking off downtown whenever Donghyuck’s parents were out. They went down to SMU campus, met up with Johnny, Taeyong, the rest of the older boys.

Mark was entranced by Taeyong’s stories about how dancing had awakened his emotions, how he had bought his freedom and the first thing he’d done was enroll in classes at a dance studio.

“Dancing was the first thing that made me feel individual, like I wasn’t just another product to be bought and sold,” Taeyong had explained, and Mark’s eyes had lit up before he’d turned them to Donghyuck, who could only blush.

Donghyuck had pressed Mark to tell Taeyong about his musical aspirations. He’d watched with happiness and something like relief as Mark and Taeyong clicked, near instantaneously. What at first was a rare meeting quickly become a common occurrence-- Mark leapt at any chance to meet up with his new friends.

✶

The moon was full and bright in the summer night sky. Night had fallen and, with it, a chill had arrived. It was finally cool enough to justify turning on Chenle’s hot tub. Donghyuck relaxed in it, content to watch as Mark and Jeno squared off against Jaemin and Jisung in a match of water volleyball.

Robots, it turned out, were good at water volleyball.

“My parents don’t want to get an android anymore,” Chenle was watching Mark thoughtfully, as he leapt out of the water to hit a ball volleyed over by Jisung, “It’s no use, they said, not with how big a fuss those unions are kicking up over working conditions and pay.”

Donghyuck nodded in understanding. Just the other day, he’d managed to get a conversation started with his mother about getting Mark’s working hours limited, and maybe paying him. She was reluctant, but it was a matter of time before he wore his mother and his father down. He could see in the headlines that a similar fight was being fought between the rights groups and the legal system.

“Oh no. Looks like you’ll have to find a boyfriend the old-fashioned way,” Renjun deadpanned.

Donghyuck reached through the water and tugged at Renjun’s ankle, making him slip under the water’s surface. He popped up seconds later, sputtering all manners of insults at Donghyuck. Donghyuck shrugged Renjun’s litany of cursing off with a smile and a roll of his eyes.

As Jeno let out a triumphant yell, Donghyuck’s gaze drifted back over to the volleyball match. Jeno jumped onto Mark’s back, pumping his arms in celebration of another good volley for their team. Mark laughed as he carried Jeno on his back through the water.

Jaemin scratched his head, but even he had to crack a good-natured smile. The only one who looked upset was Jisung. He stared on at the show Mark and Jeno were putting on, forlorn expression on his face. Donghyuck stared thoughtfully at Jisung, as an idea struck him for something that might just manage to lift the boy’s mood.

“Chenle, I hope you’re feeling daring.”

Giggling at Renjun and Chenle’s twin expressions of confusion, Donghyuck leaned over the edge of the hot tub.

“Hey, boys!” he called. Donghyuck waited until all four in the pool turned to look at him before grinning, and saying, “You up for a little game of truth or dare?”