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Mark was scared.
His journey from Canada was long and tiresome, airplane food was just as bad as he remembered, and he had sat on a rigid uncomfortable plane seat for what had felt like double his entire life. As excited as he was to be out of there, he was terrified. The first few steps he took outside the terminal were the soft and small ones of a timid little boy who had left his family, friends, and his home, dropped his goals of becoming a writer, and moved to Korea, just to become a ‘culturally proclaimed superstar’ in a country he technically wasn’t from.
He didn’t speak fluent Korean, he didn’t know anyone here, he doesn’t know where he would go, how successful he’d be, if he would amount to anything.
Little to say, he was petrified.
The day went by in a hazy blur. He was brought to meet his dance teacher, his voice coach, his Korean language teacher. He saw the building he would be working in, his school, told about his living requirements, and met a few people around the company. He had been told all this long before, of course, but it was simultaneously setting him into an inner turmoil of both terror and hope, now that it was all right here in front of him.
“I know you’ve had a tiring day.” The man who had been showing him around smiled, the outer folds of his eyes flipping upwards, the corners of his mouth pulling along with them as if his eyes and his lips were connected with a string.
His name was Johnny and he was probably the most friendly giant Mark had ever met. No matter how tired or cranky Mark was, Johnny just smiled his crinkly-eyed smile at him and told him it was okay. As many times as Mark apologised for his behaviour, and promised the man he was usually cheerful and happy, Johnny gave him a gentle pat and told him he understood how it felt. The tour around was long, but Johnny took everything as slow as he needed. Mark immediately warmed to him, and when he informed Mark he was also one of the trainees he’d be living with, some sort of relief set on his shoulders.
(Mark’s first meeting with Johnny when he got off the plane did not go how he would’ve liked it to, however, accidentally bumping straight into a ferocious, tall, lanky monster (read: bumped into Johnny’s chest) when Mark had rubbed his eyes, taking a split second from looking around for the people who were supposed to pick him up. Sputtering out apologies had become Mark’s go to, but Johnny just laughed it off as Mark would learn he did often and said it was no problem.)
Johnny was from Chicago and as he told Mark at the beginning, “I’m the one who speaks English the best, so you’ll probably end up talking to me a lot”, so he wouldn’t have been avoidable even if Mark hadn’t liked him. (Not that Mark had ever wanted to avoid him in the first place, he wanted to be as close as possible, but right at the moment, while he was adjusting to the time change, he felt like he didn’t wanna talk to anyone at all. He was quite glad to learn that this easy-going BFG would be his go-to).
“Last stop, and you’ll get to meet the others!” Johnny chipped. “The closest to your age would probably be Jeno, but he’s really shy at first, and will probably stay out of your way until you’re here for a while. Donghyuck, although, is a different story. He’s a bit younger than Jeno, and he’s a lot more… boisterous? Rambunctious? I don’t know the best word, but just don’t be afraid when he comes on a bit strong.”
Mark nodded somewhat powerlessly, the unsettled feeling in his stomach from earlier returning. To be frank, he was just tired and jet lagged and wanted to sleep. He wasn’t ready to deal with anyone, especially not someone so “boisterous” as Johnny had put it.
“Don’t worry, Mark, you can sleep before then.” Johnny smiled again, which he seemed to do too much of in Mark’s opinion, especially for someone who woke up at 6 in the morning to show someone so grumpy around. “I can’t promise that Donghyuck won’t come screaming when we first arrive, though. He’s excited to meet you.”
The dorms were pretty simple, it looked like any other duplex apartment building you could see walking down the streets of Vancouver, but it seemed cozy and nice and Mark was just happy to have a bed and a quiet place away from the hustle and bustle of Seoul.
Stepping out of the car, sauntering up to the building, and walking up the short flight of stairs, Mark could only think about the ever-prominent need for rest. His eyes were drooping, Johnny’s legs ambled easily in front of him, and it felt like hours until they got to the boring brown door with the words “NO ONE ALLOWED (unless you’re a pizza guy then come on in)”, both in Korean and English.
Johnny chuckled at Mark’s lost expression. “That was Donghyuck’s idea.”
Mark smiled solemnly, his eyes focusing on a spot of the rug, as Johnny fished around for his keys. He couldn’t think of anything but a nice pillow, at least until Johnny opened the door.
A boy, a bit shorter than him, came bounding out from a hallway in the back, making it to where they had entered. He enveloped Johnny in a hug bigger than Mark had ever seen anyone give, and he wondered how a boy with such a tiny arm span could possibly hold that much power in his embrace.
“Hi, bud.” Johnny chuckled.
The energetic ball of black hair and grey (both his shirt and pants were a light charcoal colour, they looked comfy but seemed a little too big on him) dropped off from Johnny’s torso and turned to look at Mark’s startled expression.
The boy’s hair barely brushing against his eyelashes, he took a sharp breath, and stood, his eyes wide and his mouth agape, right in front of Mark.
Mark was awestruck.
This boy, no, this angel, breathed sunshine. Even from a few feet away, Mark could tell he smelled like fresh air and honeysuckle and saltwater dancing in the wind, the image of his face and his movements perpetually bouncing around in Mark’s head like waves against the sand, a boat rocking by the shore. His cheeks rounder and fluffier than a sea sponge found in tide pools, his mouth set into a heart-shaped pout, his lips the same hue as coral right under the surface of the bright blue water. His eyes sat, brightening his face, as dark and shiny as that one conch shell Mark had once found by the coastline, and as the boy took a step forward into the light from the left window, the sun hit his face and he radiated brighter than any summer outside, any light sparkling off of the ocean on a Sunday afternoon, brighter than any night sky star he stared at from the comfort of the low tide sands.
Mark had only ever been to a real beach once, back when his parents took him to the Caribbean, and while he was there he was sure nothing, absolutely nothing could be as bright and warm as the sunshine tickling his skin. But now, as he stared at the boy whose face held the power of the entire warm season, he was utterly positive he could outshine any beach day sun Mark would ever have to experience.
Johnny coughed, snapping both Mark and the boy’s conscious back to reality.
“Holy shit… you’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life.” The boy rambled in rapid Korean before his hand flew over his mouth.
“Huh? What does that mean?” Mark stuttered out, turning helplessly to the taller man behind him. Johnny looked at him, coughing gently.
“M-Mark, this is Donghyuck! Donghyuck just said he’s happy to meet you!”
“O-okay…” His vision snapped back to the boy with the gentle umber eyes once more, whose face had bloomed the colour of the sticky cherry popsicles he had always eaten on his porch in his youth. “I’m gonna go to my room.”
If only he had seen Donghyuck’s longing stare and Johnny’s smirk.
Wait.
“Johnny, I don’t know where anything is.” Mark had only gotten so far when he swung around and stuttered.
The two boys were whispering, Donghyuck sounding kind of frazzled and Johnny giggling in between little sentences here and there.
(“How dare you bring the cutest boy ever in here without warning my gay ass beforehand!”
“Donghyuck, you’re bisexual. Also literally eleven, stop swearing so much…”
“What’s his name? Why doesn’t he speak Korean? I knew he was from Canada but I expected him to speak even a little. Is he single?”
“Donghyuck. For fuck’s sake, he’s tired, he’ll meet everyone and get asked questions later.”
“Don’t tell me not to swear, hypocrite.”
“You’re eleven.”)
“Oh, Mark, I’m so sorry! Hold on, let me give you a tour!”
Mark was asked questions later. He met the others, caught Johnny and Ten, another trainee, holding hands under the table, had his hair ruffled at last 16 times by each person, and also came out as bisexual to 'Hyuckie' (as he had introduced himself), who pestered him and pestered him until a response was given.
Donghyuck only beamed at his answer.
--
It had been a few months, seven to be precise, since Mark had moved away from home. The first few weeks were spent on and off skype with his parents and friends (who yelled at him for leaving without telling anyone), but other than the occasional urge to say “Sorry, I can’t do this! I’m going home!”, Mark was fitting in perfectly. The older members babied him like they did the other teenage trainees, and the younger ones spent their time picking on him.
The main culprit was, without a single doubt, Lee Donghyuck.
Mr. Sunshine Angel Baby came as a package: the summer was not only as peaceful and warm as he had been, standing in front of Mark that first day, but included overwhelming heatwaves and bubbling sunburns, that itching sand between your toes and really, really big thunderstorms.
Somedays, Donghyuck could be so frustrating Mark would say things he didn’t mean. He sometimes pissed Mark off so much he would contemplate leaving the company. One of these days, when he was missing Vancouver a little more than usual, they had sat themselves in the living room before vocal coaching. They had eaten a small breakfast, and while Mark seemed a little out of it, he still put on his best grin, so that the boy who encompassed the long, lingering daylight hours wouldn’t fret. Said boy was poking his arm repeatedly as they watched TV, talking about his dream the night prior. Donghyuck, like he would every day of his life, started teasing Mark about something, probably a no-effort insult like “You look like a toe.”, or something that Mark would normally laugh at. But that day, as much as Mark hoped he could feign some happiness, his smile fell immediately and he snapped.
“Donghyuck, you’re being so annoying! Did anyone ever teach you that sometimes people don’t like to be touched or teased? Leave me alone.”
Hyuckie (as Mark playfully called him sometimes, making fun of how he introduced himself to him that first evening) immediately shrunk back, his eyes glossing over at the sharp tone of his voice. He had switched from giggling with Donghyuck to barking at him in an instant. What had he said? This wouldn’t have phased him if it was anyone else, but Donghyuck only teased Mark to get his attention, to make Mark notice him, so that maybe, just maybe, he’d realise that Donghyuck wasn’t as confident, wasn’t as upfront or straightforward as he appeared. That maybe one day Mark, like in Donghyuck’s wildest dreams, would pull him aside to talk. That maybe, similar to the limitless scenarios Donghyuck thought up when he was alone in his head, Mark would tell Donghyuck he liked him too.
He wanted to say something, to apologise profusely and beg for forgiveness. To tell him it was a joke, to ask Mark if he was okay. Instead, he smiled, said sorry, and left him alone.
Donghyuck was, in his own opinion, a coward.
Mark felt terrible.
Donghyuck had been avoiding him all day, ditching voice practice by feigning a stomach ache, and Mark was told by Taeyong that he had heard Donghyuck sniffle in their shared room.
“Mark, what the fuck did you say to Donghyuck?” Taeyong had come storming up to the kitchen where Mark was cooking (read: attempting to cook) a pity grilled cheese sandwich. He had already burnt one side, and the only sliced cheese they had in the fridge was mozzarella, and as Mark continued to stare holes in his sad excuse of pity food, Taeyong’s question went over his head.
“He hasn’t spoken to me all day.” Mark sighed.
“I’m aware, dickhead, so tell me what you said to him before I beat your ass straight to the moon.”
“Do that to Jisung instead, I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”
“Yeah, well, Jisung isn’t the one who has Donghyuck crying in his room with the door locked, so if you don’t tell me soon, I’ll kick you into the sun instead.”
At this, Mark’s head snapped up.
“He’s crying?”
“I can hear him sniffling through your guys’ door. He doesn’t give a shit about what anyone else says, and even if we told him we hated him he still wouldn’t cry. So unless you rejected a marriage proposal or something, I’m gonna beat your ass. In fact, I should probably beat your ass if you rejected his marriage proposal too.”
Mark reddened at the mention of marrying Donghyuck, and his vision fell back to his grilled cheese. He had accidentally burned the other side too, and he cursed the heavens for making this the worst day of his life.
“I was homesick and frustrated and I snapped at him because he kept poking me and said something stupid but my words had too much bite too them and-”
Taeyong smacked a hand over his mouth.
“Oh my god, stop gay rambling.” Taeyong sighed deeply. “Just remake your grilled cheese and apologise to him eventually, okay? It always hurts me to see our little ball of energy so down.”
With that final comment, he walked out, and Mark started preparing to remake his food.
He still burned both sides and thought about how Donghyuck had learned how to make grilled cheeses so he wouldn’t get homesick for his mom’s.
Johnny had assigned Donghyuck to help Mark with Korean. He still had his language coach, of course, who was the real teacher, but Johnny recommended Donghyuck go along, just so Mark could hear a voice he’d be hearing every day (this proved very successful, to the great happiness of the BFG, as Mark had gotten much better at Korean quicker than anyone had expected him to, largely thanks to the amount of time he spent talking to Donghyuck). But right now, when Mark had fucked up big time, it didn’t help that his attention was automatically tuned towards everything Donghyuck did; his speaking, every small movement, his moods.
When Donghyuck came to pick Mark up in the dance practice room for his lesson, the silence that followed was expected.
Donghyuck was standing kinda far away, at least a few feet, as if he was afraid Mark would snap at him again. Mark’s head clouded with worry. What if he never forgave him? What if he just lost the only reason (usually) he wanted to stay in Seoul? Mark’s stomach hurt, he felt like shit and he just wanted Donghyuck back.
Taeyong’s words about ‘our little ball of energy’ echoed in his head, and as he felt the lump in his throat multiple by 8, he realised he honestly wouldn’t survive if he didn’t get to talk to Donghyuck in the next 15 seconds.
His frustration got the best of him. He reached over and grabbed Donghyuck’s hand and interlaced their fingers, squeezing lightly.
“I’m sorry.”
Donghyuck released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, pulling his body closer towards Mark, relief filling his lungs. Subconsciously, as he always did, he rested his head on Mark’s shoulder, as if it was metal to a magnet, a moth to a flame.
“I’m sorry for being a dick, I was missing home and kinda sad and kinda mad but it wasn’t your fault and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You do tease me a lot though, to be fair.”
Donghyuck’s smile shone brighter than the sun at midday. “You’re my best friend, Mark.”
Mark smiled right back, and if you asked him in the moment, he’d promise you he watched the crackling beach thunderstorm die down, it’s spell being broken as it fell apart over land. The rain stopped falling, flashes of electricity stopped lighting up the dark clouds, and the rolling thunder turned into nothing more than the gentle rhythm of Mark’s heart, as Donghyuck held his hand all the way down the hallway.
At the end of the Korean lesson, almost everything had immediately been forgotten. The only Korean word Mark could remember for hours after was 베프.
--
It was common for Mark to be caught crying during holidays. He didn’t like to say that he was homesick, but he didn’t get to spend his breaks with his family anymore, and he missed them.
Okay, maybe Mark was just a bit homesick.
To his great dismay, trips were expensive and he had to train, so it looked like he’d be spending a lot more time here with the members for festive seasons than he would back home.
The chilly Decembers of Seoul were a lot different from Canada. The winter was cold, almost as cold as his old neighbourhood, but the snow was light and rarely stuck. Even though his hometown was one of the few Canadian cities where heavy snow didn’t regularly fall, where rain plagued the skies more than the snow, he missed the white blanket that came and stayed for Christmas almost every year. The clear and dry weather of Korean winters only reigned in a melancholy atmosphere, and Mark had been stuck in longing for weeks. The only things he could think about lately were the fluffy flakes of snow, the icicles dripping from his roof, and the cotton candy clouds that fluttered through the skies. He missed his parents. He missed his old house, the fireplace, the Christmas tree. He missed the constant smell of pine, baked goods, and citrus that filled each level of the cozy paradise around this time.
He missed Vancouver.
His emotions were fragile and Donghyuck was asleep, so he was careful getting into bed, sliding the curtains next to his head open just a smidge. The stars were faint, because of light pollution strung from the skyscrapers, but he could see some of the bigger ones, like Sirius and Canopus (Jisung loved astronomy and always talked about the great beyond, so Mark knew a little bit about Earth’s night sky). He wondered whether his parents were looking at the same thing he was, halfway across the globe, before realising it would be daytime in Canada and that his parents were probably just getting up. Unbeknownst to him, the stars watched as tears welled up in his eyes before he himself was even aware of it, but when his phone rang with a notification from his mother (wishing him a Merry Christmas, hoping he was well, reminding him how much she and his father loved him), he broke, until the tears were falling and he couldn’t stop.
“Mark...” A quiet voice called out, the audible movements of someone shifting to stand on the edge of the bottom bunk, a pair of hands placing themselves on the side of the railing, a presence creeping towards his bed sending chills down his spine. Mark snapped his head back, turning his tear-stained face towards the... person? Ghost? Demon?
“Mark, are you okay?” Over the side of his bed peered his sun, his summer, his light.
Donghyuck.
He shouldn’t have been surprised, of course, since Donghyuck had slept below him for as long as he could remember. Donghyuck had caught him crying at night many times, too, but his head still raked up excuses as to why he was a mess, forcing his tears to stop, no matter how much the sight of Donghyuck made him want to sob even harder.
It had been 2 years since Mark had stood in the entrance way to their dorm, 2 years since a ball of black hair and grey fabric and tan skin had zoomed out of seemingly nowhere, 2 years since he first stared at the personification of the daytime sun.
2 years since Mark fell in love.
Mark wasn’t scared, though. He had never liked anyone like this before, and while he knew who he liked and who he found attractive, he really didn’t expect his first real mind blowing crush to be on a boy, especially his best friend in the whole wide world. Mark wasn’t scared!
Mark wasn’t scared, but only because he was petrified.
He was scared of this feeling, scared that Donghyuck wouldn’t like him back, scared he’d lose the most precious thing in his life. Scared they would never be able to be together, no matter romantic or platonic, scared his future wouldn’t have Donghyuck in it. He pushed all his feelings aside, hoping it would protect them both.
That doesn’t mean that Mark’s heart didn’t falter, though, at the sight of his first love’s expression, twisted with worry.
“Yeah.” He sniffled, forcing on a wavering smile. “I’m okay.”
Donghyuck called bullshit.
“Okay, so, that’s a no. I’m coming up.”
Mark felt the bunk bed shake, Donghyuck crawling over him just to slip under the covers and look him right in his swollen eyes.
“Either someone broke your heart, or you miss home. Do I have to beat someone up, or kiss your tears away.” His eyes drifted over Mark’s features, the knowledge of his friend’s situation clouding his mind with concern.
Mark would probably only cry harder if Donghyuck’s mouth came anywhere near his face, in this moment or any moment.
“Home.”
He had given up on not crying at this point, and let himself fall into his emotions. He knew by habit that Donghyuck wouldn’t mind, since he had seen him cry countless times before, and trying to stop it only seemed useless. Nodding his head and trying not to make too much noise, Mark felt Donghyuck’s hand reach his cheek and wipe away a stray tear that fell.
“I know it’s scary, you know.” Donghyuck started. “I can’t imagine how hard it is for you, having to move just to start a new life with literally none of it there. I may not be able to empathise exactly since I only moved within my own country, but I promise I do know it’s scary. I wish I could keep you from feeling homesick. I really, really wish I could help you go back and see all the familiar things and the things that make you happy.”
You make me happy, is what Mark wanted to say, what he would’ve said if he hadn’t felt so helpless.
“You should call your parents tomorrow. They wouldn’t want you to cry on Christmas Eve.”
Mark nodded.
“I may not be able to replace everything you left behind, but I hope I can be here for you when you miss them.”
“You’re better than a lot of things I left behind.”
Donghyuck’s unease melted for a moment, a gentle smile gracing his face, and Mark’s cheeks burned when he realised he said that aloud. “This is no time to be sappy, Mr. Mark.”
“You started it, Mr. Hyuckie.”
“Mr. Hyuckie sounds weird.”
“Yeah, well, you sound weird.”
“Are you twelve?” Donghyuck pinched his cheek, and the pads of his fingers sent currents of static through Mark’s whole body. When he felt Mark tense faintly under his touch (in a good way, unknown to Donghyuck), he pulled his hand from his cheek, only to entwine his fingers through Mark’s.
Donghyuck breath caught in his throat as Mark’s gaze softened at the tiny action, his eyes shifting back and forth from Mark’s eyes drifting close, and his lips mumbling incoherent sentences.
They had been in this position countless times, Donghyuck crawling up to Mark’s bed when Mark was sad or Donghyuck had nightmares. He had held Mark’s hand a million times before, so why did this moment feel so intimate? There they laid, sharing a single pillow, their noses a single shuffle from bumping together. His sight traced every crease, every shape, every corner of Mark’s face. Donghyuck had known he liked Mark for longer than he had known himself, so why was it now that it was hitting him? He had confessed his more-than-platonic, unconditional, absolutely 112% genuine love for Mark to a thousand people, if not more. Why was it so painfully obvious to himself that he wanted to kiss Mark right here, right now?
Maybe it was because it was almost Christmas, since the holiday season always brought mistletoe and love and shit, right? Maybe it was just Mark being sappy? Donghyuck was so endlessly lost, but after Mark’s eyes closed for the last time, he brought his sight back down to his pout, soft, irregular breathing escaping from his lungs.
Mark was so close. He was so, so close. He was so close that Donghyuck could feel his breath right on his face.
Mark sighed in content, crossing between reality and the land of his dreams, where only his imagination, his visions of loving Donghyuck and Donghyuck loving him right back, remained (Mark had yet to learn he didn’t have to envision the latter).
“I love you, my Duckie.”
Donghyuck was fortunate that the dark of the evening hid how his face tinted with every shade of red and pink. He, like solar winds, blazed crimson, mahogany, vermillion, and the exact rouge colour of Mark’s parted lips.
--
Debut Day.
The day Mark had been preparing for and dreading for 4 years.
The Rookies had all been given a slip of paper that would determine their fate. Would they continue to practice aimlessly, or be able to walk on stage with their own lines, their own choreography, their own future.
Mark hesitantly plucked the paper from the manager’s hand, waiting patiently, his arms dotted with goosebumps, dipping up and down on his toes, biting his lips. His anxiety had hit home, and only until he felt the tiny fingers of the person standing next to him wrapping themselves around his forearm did he stop moving.
“You’re gonna make it.” Donghyuck smiled up at him. “I promise. You’ll be fine.”
Oh boy. If only he knew how the tiny gesture made Mark’s heart race sixteen times faster than it had been before.
He nodded gently down to the smaller boy, and Donghyuck let go to receive his paper. The last one.
“You can open them now, boys.” The manager smiled.
Everyone raced to open theirs, choruses of groans and a borderline girly scream from Taeyong filling the air. Doyoung, Ten, and Jaehyun also yelped excitedly, and everyone patted them on the back. Mark and Donghyuck, however, opened theirs slowly.
When Mark caught sight of “Debuting” on his, his hand flew straight to his mouth to muffle sobs (?) screams (?) it didn’t matter, because Mark Lee, who had given up everything, half his childhood, his home, to train and work his ass off in a country he never thought he’d find a home in, was debuting.
Donghyuck sighed sadly at his paper, glancing up at Mark. “Not this time, I guess.”
He was greeted with an image of Mark in a state of shock, and he swore he could see the frenzy in his head.
“Mark?”
He was immediately locked into the most aggressive and heartfelt clutch he had ever wound up in. The air was filled with Mark’s schoolgirl like giggles, and Donghyuck could feel a few stray tears land on his back.
“I’m debuting,” Mark mumbled in his shoulder. “I’m debuting, Hyuckie.”
He froze, before lifting Mark in a grasp just as tight. “I’m so, so proud of you. You don’t know how proud I am of you. I love you.”
Mark stopped in his tracks. No matter how many times Donghyuck had told him he loved him (and it was many), it still caught him off guard. He always had to catch his breath before taking a big gulp, and from the bottom of his chest saying back, “I love you too.”
“Hey.” Donghyuck suppressed his nerves as best he could, but his voice came out weak and shaky as he muttered into Mark’s ear. “Can we talk? Later? Just the two of us?”
Mark pulled away to catch Donghyuck’s worried expression.
“Of course, Hyuckie.” He squeezed his arm. “Now let’s go tell the others.”
Donghyuck watched as Mark got pulled away from him by Johnny, and only after standing there for a minute did he put on his brightest smile and walk over to the rest.
They met in their room that night. Mark sat on the bottom bunk, where the younger slept, and Donghyuck came rustling in from his shower, jumping seeing his shadowy figure where he usually stayed.
“Hi.”
“Hey, Mark.”
“You said you wanted to talk?”
Shit. He had forgotten.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, smothering the tears he knew would fall as soon as he tried to speak. “Lemme just dry my hair.”
Mark sat patiently, eyeing Donghyuck eagerly. What was this about? His mind travelled to the worst. Was Donghyuck quitting the company? Would he never debut? Was he mad? He was freaked out of his mind, but all he wanted was for Donghyuck to tell him what was up. That was his best friend, after all. He meant more to Mark than just about anything.
After he finished drying, Donghyuck took his sweet time maneuvering himself over to the bed, but he got there eventually (“Don’t wait till Christmas!”, Mark would say).
He lowered himself next to Mark, and immediately felt a hand grab his own. He coughed, trying to get the lump from his throat out, but to no avail.
“Just tell me what’s up, Hyuckie. It’s okay, you can tell me anything. You know that.”
That’s when the tears fell.
“Donghyuck, what’s wrong?” Mark began to wipe stray tears from his face, one hand gently stroking Donghyuck’s hair in an effort to calm him down enough to speak.
“No-”
“I just wanna know what’s wrong, Hyuckie, please-”
“I like you.” Donghyuck heaved, between choky breaths. “Like, a lot, like, more than just best friends, even if you are my best friend in the world, and I’ve prepared myself and I know you don’t like me back, but I really just had to tell you that before you debut and I see less of you and-”
“Hyuck-”
“No, let me finish. I know I’ll debut eventually, but I don’t know when that’ll be, I don’t know if we’re gonna be in the same unit, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us. I know we’ll always be roommates, but our schedules are from early morning to late nights, so our paths will split, and I don’t know how I’m gonna handle not being by your side 24/7 or-
“Hyuck, Let me kiss you.”
Now it was Donghyuck’s turn for his breath to catch in his throat, to stop crying and to sit in silence. Just like that one night, Mark was close. He was so, so close, and it became so ever present to him that every feeling he had ever held for this boy had come surging into him at that moment. Every smile, laugh, cry, every argument and every makeup, every time he wondered whether he would ever get a chance to tell Mark exactly how he felt, to tell him he didn’t wanna be best friends anymore, only to be more.
Mark had wondered if we would ever hold the blazing sun in his arms, he contemplated every journey, everything they had been through. The good and the bad, the warm and the cold, the snow and the sun. He had his chance now, to do what he had wanted to do for years, and he wasn’t going to miss it.
He nodded slowly. Mark’s eyes which once traced every curve of Donghyuck’s face moved to bore holes into his sparkling ocean eyes and relocated to rest on his lips. He moved to kiss Donghyuck gently on each corner of his mouth, before shutting his eyes completely, placing both his hands to capture his cheeks, Donghyuck’s eyes following suit, Mark moving towards the other.
Mark had almost always thought of Donghyuck as the heat of the summer, the ever-blazing sun. Now, at this moment, those familiar heart-shaped lips on his own, he was everything but. He was aloe vera on a sunburn, a chilly breeze in July, and every slight movement of the boy Mark had been crushing on for so long, too long, sent chills down his spine. His lips were warm, but they made Mark feel like he just jumped into a chilly pool, or ate a popsicle on his porch, and he swore he could feel droplets of watermelon trickling down his chin.
Donghyuck wasn’t only the swelter of the sunny season, but the contrast of the warmth, the chill, the cool, the frigid frostiness that everyone in summer craved. Donghyuck was whole, he was the storms on the beach, he subsided his own torridity and brought everything back to the gentle stinging of sprinklers and open fire hydrants.
Mark wasn’t scared anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time. The summers of his childhood dreams had come to find him in this boy, the comfort of the heat and the revitalizing feeling of the cold living and radiating off his entire person.
Donghyuck was the warmest summer in every aspect, and Mark was no longer homesick for those chilly winters of Canada.