Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Taeyong, what the fuck is going on?”

Yuta is the first one to speak. They’re all gathered in the living room back at the base because Taeyong and Jaehyun just returned from a mission. Normally, after members of the gang returned safely from a mission, they would all celebrate together. Tonight, however, things were different. Taeyong and Jaehyun had left as two, but returned as three.

They’ve brought a stranger into the group’s home, and that is forbidden.

But, Mark thinks, if Taeyong, their leader, deemed it acceptable, then he must have a good reason. Right?

The unfamiliar boy in Jaehyun’s arms looks like he’s been through absolute hell. He’s covered in dirt, his clothes are tattered, and all of his visible skin is carpeted with bruises and cuts.

“Well, you know Jaehyun and I went to negotiate with Jungmin, the owner of that trashy nightclub down the street. We offered to pay him a hefty sum if he agreed to stop prostituting teenagers out of the basement of the club,” Taeyong treads carefully with his words.

Mark remembers hearing Taeyong talk about this particular mission. It was a rather personal one for Taeyong, as he was being forced into prostitution before he formed NCT. And now, NCT was one of the most powerful gangs in all of Seoul.

“Jungmin refused to stop the prostitution and Taeyong...Taeyong may or may not have stabbed him,” continues Jaehyun nervously, “And then we found this unconscious kid in the bathroom when we were trying to cover up the kill. We couldn’t leave him. Not in a place like that.”

“Holy shit,” mutters Johnny, and Mark suddenly feels sick. Taeyong killing someone wasn’t exactly uncommon, but Taeyong killing someone without planning to was pretty shocking. Even more shocking was the fact that Taeyong brought his work home with him.

“He’s not in good shape. We should at least patch him up,” says Jaehyun cautiously. He’s clearly unsure of how the group would take the suggestion.

“If anyone has a problem with this, now is the time to speak up,” says Taeyong.

Mark looks around the room, and no one budges. He guesses the rest of the group is more intimidated by Taeyong than a skinny, unconscious boy.

“Then I want Mark and Sicheng to take a look at him. Clean him up. Make him a bed on the couch. Let me know when he wakes up,” Taeyong hesitates briefly before continuing. Mark thinks he sees tears shine in his eyes, “If he wakes up.”

Mark knows better than to disobey their leader’s orders, so he stays put as the rest of the group files out of the room. He and Sicheng are the medics of the gang, so it’s no surprise that Taeyong has put them in charge. Sicheng disappears down the hall and returns a moment later with a med kit from the bathroom. He pulls out a plastic tablecloth and drapes it across the coffee table in the living room. Jaehyun gently lays the boy down on the table before giving Mark an encouraging nod and exiting the room.

“He can’t be much younger than you,” whispers Sicheng and all Mark can do is nod.

He’s confused. Mark has seen the prostitutes Jungmin rents out. This boy did not seem like one of them.

They remove his clothes and inspect the damage first. The boy’s gaunt stomach is harshly blackened with bruises, and he’s filthy. His ankle is twisted at an unnatural angle as well. Mark doesn’t want to imagine the amount of pain he’ll be in if he wakes up.

Sicheng suggests they wash him, and Mark agrees. Before long, the boy is bathed and dressed in an oversized black t-shirt and a pair of Mark’s plaid pajama pants.

Now that the mysterious boy is clean, Mark can get a good look at him. There’s bruising on his face, but it’s not as bad as his stomach. He has tan skin and reddish-brown hair and soft, yet distinct features.

“You’re right,” Mark whispers to Sicheng, “He’s young.”

Sicheng nods sadly. He’s never been one to show much emotion.

“It’s late. There’s a blanket in the cupboard, and we can move him to the couch for the night. Do you...should I stay with him, or do you want to?” Sicheng asks.

“I don’t mind doing it,” replies Mark. He can tell Sicheng is itching to get back to Yuta, and Mark doesn’t mind setting up camp in the living room for the night.

“Thanks,” Sicheng says before leaving Mark alone with the stranger.

Mark watches the boy’s chest rise and fall in a steady motion. To be honest, the boy is quite pretty. He wonders how the poor kid ended up like this.

He walks over to the kitchen connected to the living space to make himself a cup of tea. He’s about to start heating some water when he hears a cough and almost has a fucking heart attack.

Mark turns around to see the boy sitting up slowly. His eyes are shut tightly in what Mark assumes is pain. He’s about to sprint back to the couch so he can talk to him when the boy hunches forward and puts a hand over his mouth.

Mark knows what’s about to happen, so he springs into action. He throws the door to the cupboard underneath the sink open and shoves all the cleaning supplies to the side as he desperately tries to locate a bucket. He finds an empty gallon-sized ice cream pail shoved all the way to back of the cupboard. He vaguely remembers this very bucket being attached to Doyoung that one time he managed to get food poisoning.

He snatches the bucket and sprints over to the couch. Mark practically thrusts the bucket onto the boy’s lap, expecting him to immediately throw up into it.

But he doesn’t.

The boy’s eyes snap open when he feels the weight of the bucket on his lap.

He pulls his hand away from his mouth and starts rambling and Mark has no idea what the fuck is happening.

“I’m fine. I’m—I’m—I’m fine. I’m not going to be sick. Please don’t beat me. Please don’t—I’m fine, I promise. I won’t make a mess again—”

“Hey, relax,” Mark tries to comfort him, but the boy is hysterical.

“I can’t help it—please—”

“Relax. He’s not here. He can’t touch you. You’re safe,” Mark says a little louder.

Mark’s words seem to have snapped the boy out of his craze.

“Where am I?”

“The man you were with is gone. You are safe here,” Mark says slowly.

The boy visibly relaxes, but now he’s started to shake slightly.

“He’s gone?”

“He’s gone,” repeats Mark.

“Did you rescue me?” the boy mutters weakly.

“Something like that,” says Mark. He has no idea what happened to this boy, but he knows it was definitely something fucked up.

The boy clenches his fists and glances down at the bucket on his lap.

“I’m going to puke.”

“It’s okay. I kind of figured that much,” laughs Mark humorlessly. The boy hugs the bucket closer to his chest and sighs. A few seconds later, he’s retching forcefully and Mark has to look away. He can’t even begin to imagine how the heaving is making his battered abdomen feel. The bucket is half full of vomit, and there are tears running down the boy’s pale cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

“You don’t need to apologize for something you can’t help.”

“He—he beat me to a pulp last time I threw up. I ruined the rug.”

Mark feels extremely nauseous. It was clear to him now that this boy wasn’t one of Jungmin’s workers. This boy was special. This boy was Jungmin’s personal punching bag.

“Was he your father...Jungmin? The man from the nightclub?” Mark asks quietly.

“Yes,” chokes the crying boy.

“What’s your name?” Mark has to fight back tears as he continues to ask the boy questions. This kid is so innocent looking and he was clearly abused brutally by his pimp of a father. This kid doesn’t even care that he’s in a stranger’s home. This poor kid is just glad to be somewhere his father isn’t.

“Donghyuck.”

“Well, Donghyuck, my friends and I are going to take care of you now. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise,” says Mark.

And he means it.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Taeyong asks Mark to help him question Donghyuck. If they want this boy to recover, they need to understand as much about his previous situation as possible. The three of them are sitting on the end of the long dining room table opposite the kitchen, but no one has said a word.

It’s too early.

Donghyuck hadn’t slept much after he threw up the night before. Mark had managed to get him cleaned up and tucked in, but every sound, no matter how small, seemed to put Donghyuck off. The muffled thump that reverberated through the room when Taeil accidentally knocked a shampoo bottle onto the floor while showering in the next room over almost caused Donghyuck to fall off the couch. The way his eyes shot open in fear and the panicked gasp he gave when Yuta slammed his bedroom door a bit too hard made Mark’s heart ache.

“Donghyuck.”

The boy is sitting cross legged in his chair. He’s got one hand on his stomach and the other grasping the edge of the dining room table with a white knuckled death grip. He winces when he hears his name.

He winces when he hears his own fucking name. Mark wants to punch the wall.

“We just want to ask you a few questions,” continues Taeyong.

Donghyuck nods slowly and suddenly, he’s making eye contact with Mark. Mark can tell the boy is searching for comfort or approval or anything, so he gives an encouraging nod.

“When was the last time you ate a real, proper meal?”

“Years.”

“What?”

“It’s been years.”

Fuck.

Mark was expecting him to say a week at the worst.

Taeyong takes a deep, shaky breath before continuing. Mark is surprised to see his leader showing a sign of weakness. It’s just so strange.

“How many years?”

“Since my mom...died. Five years,” Donghyuck’s voice is trembling ever so slightly and Mark can tell Donghyuck’s mother is a touchy subject.

Taeyong must be able to tell, too, because he steers the conversation in another direction.

“Can you describe your living conditions for me?”

Donghyuck nods. This one was easy.

“I had this small room between the kitchen and the bathroom...all it had was a window and a mattress.”

“Was it clean? Well kept?”

Donghyuck shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Mark recognizes the look on his face as embarrassment. Embarrassment? None of this was his fault.

“Well...he, um, he—he didn’t really let me out of the room very often…”

Taeyong raises his eyebrows in an inquisitive manner, “Go on. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Donghyuck looks at Mark again, and all Mark can do is nod. Support is what this boy needs right now.

“He rarely let me into the bathroom. Only if I didn’t anger him for long periods of time. So, no, it wasn’t—it wasn’t clean. You know.”

Mark has to swallow the bile he feels rising in his throat. Not only did Donghyuck’s father beat him for being sick, but he also denied him decent food and access to personal hygiene.

Taeyong has his fists clenched so tightly that Mark half expects to see blood begin to trickle down his wrists from where his fingernails are piercing his palms.

“That’s enough for today. Thank you, Donghyuck,” says Taeyong. His voice is tight, as if he’s holding back tears. He makes eye contact with Mark before nodding his head towards Donghyuck. Mark understands immediately. Taeyong wants Mark to take Donghyuck under his wing and help him as much as he can. He can tell that Donghyuck seems the most comfortable around Mark.

Mark nods immediately, and Taeyong exits the room unceremoniously. Donghyuck looks up at Mark expectantly and Mark suddenly feels very overwhelmed. He knows he needs to try to fix this boy, but he has no idea where to start. He’s never met someone so broken before.

Mark decides the least he can do is try his best to help Donghyuck recover, both physically and mentally. And if he wants to recover, he needs to rest.

“Let’s get you into a real bed. You’re exhausted,” he says, and Donghyuck gives him a grateful nod.

~

Donghyuck sleeps for hours in Mark’s bed, and Mark stays with him the entire time. When he finally does wake, it’s lunchtime.

Mark knows Jaehyun is probably in the kitchen preparing lunch for everyone like he does nearly every day. He figures Donghyuck probably isn’t ready to meet the whole gang, so he promises Donghyuck he’ll be right back and excuses himself to the kitchen.

“Can I get a bowl for Donghyuck?” he asks Jaehyun nervously.

“Of course. Give me a second and I’ll prepare one.”

Mark returns to his bedroom with a heaping bowl of kimchi stew. He hands the bowl to Donghyuck, who is sitting up in Mark’s bed. Donghyuck gratefully takes the bowl and immediately digs in.

Mark decides it would be creepy as hell if he just stared at the boy as he ate, so he pulls out his phone and decides to pass the time by checking his email. Most of it is boring gang stuff, but it’s important that he reads it anyway.

He’s about to shift his focus to instagram when he hears Donghyuck set the bowl down on Mark’s bedside table.

Mark looks up and is suddenly horrified when he sees that Donghyuck is crying. There are tears running down his cheeks, and he’s choking back sobs that seem to be caught in his throat. Mark immediately springs into action and is by Donghyuck’s side in a second.

“What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

Donghyuck just shakes his head pitifully.

“No, it’s just, I can’t—I’m not used to eating this much at one time and I can’t finish it and I don’t want you to be mad—”

Mark glances over at the bowl on the bedside table and sees that it’s still about half full. Sure, he wishes Donghyuck would eat more because he’s so damn skinny, but he isn’t mad at the boy.

“Donghyuck, look at me.”

Donghyuck hesitates, but he eventually brings his eyes up to meet Mark’s. When Mark looks into Donghyuck’s shiny, fearful eyes, he swears he feels something inside of him shatter.

“You don’t have to finish the food right now. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says slowly and clearly. He wants Donghyuck to understand. No, he needs him to understand.

Donghyuck nods and takes a deep breath. He has that tired look in his eyes again.

“Let’s just rest some more for now, and you can try to eat again later, okay?” suggests Mark.

Donghyuck nods again in agreement, but this time he opens his mouth afterwards.

“Can I...ask you something?” he mumbles.

“Anything,” replies Mark. He’s excited that Donghyuck is initiating the conversation this time.

“Can you stay with me? While I sleep?”

“Of course, I stayed with you earlier when you slept,” replies Mark. Had Donghyuck not noticed that he stayed in the room with him when he was resting before?

Donghyuck’s eyes drop back to his lap and he chews at his fingernails before speaking again.

“I mean...can you lay with me? Just for a little bit?”

Mark didn’t expect to find Donghyuck’s request so appealing. To be honest, he’s exhausted.

So Mark just nods his head and climbs into the bed, laying down next to Donghyuck. Donghyuck hugs a pillow to his chest with one arm, and the other lies limply at his side. Feeling suddenly courageous, Mark gently takes Donghyuck’s unoccupied hand in his own and gives it a soft squeeze. Donghyuck’s hand jerks away a bit, and Mark thinks he probably isn’t used to being touched in a non-violent way.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand? Just so you know I’m here?” he whispers, and Donghyuck’s hand relaxes, so Mark takes it in his own again. This time, Donghyuck squeezes Mark’s hand gently.

“Thank you,” Donghyuck whispers back, and Mark suddenly feels heat spiraling through his body and up to his cheeks.

He’s not sure what the feeling is, but it feels good. It feels good in a weird, possessive kind of way, and Mark decides he wants to protect Donghyuck.

Because if Donghyuck is safe, Mark is happy. Right now, that’s all he’s sure about.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck makes progress.

The process is grueling for both him and Mark, but they’re making headway, and that’s all that matters.

Donghyuck had been living with the gang for about a week now, and he begins to look better every day. After Donghyuck had rested for his first few days living at the base, he confirmed with Mark that his ankle was indeed sprained. This led to Mark feeling inclined to half carry Donghyuck to the bathroom every time he needed to go. By now, fortunately, the swelling on his ankle has gone down, so the boy is able to walk by himself without feeling much pain.

The bruising on his face has almost faded completely, but his stomach is another story. The bruising on Donghyuck’s abdomen has now turned a sickly yellowish-brown color. Donghyuck had informed Mark that the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been initially, but Mark still finds the younger boy clutching at his gut in pain every now and then.

Physically, Donghyuck is healing. The process of healing him mentally, however, has proven to be much more arduous.

There are little things Donghyuck is getting better at, like feeling more comfortable in a new place. It took a lot of assurance, but he’s finally stopped asking if he can sit down on the couch or use the bathroom. Mark had to remind him more than once that the base was his home now, and that he didn’t need permission to make use of it. Donghyuck also began to eat more at mealtimes, which really pleased Mark. The boy had practically been withering away when Jaehyun first carried him in, and now he was finally starting to look somewhat healthier.

All the while, there has been a question itching at the back of Mark’s mind. He and Donghyuck are sitting at the kitchen table while Taeyong sits a few feet away on the couch in the connecting living room. He’s concentrating on his laptop, so Mark figures he probably planning a mission.

Mark figures now is as good a time as any to ask his question.

“Donghyuck-ah?”

Donghyuck looks up from the bowl of soup he’s slowly been eating.

“Yes, hyung?” Mark smiles at the honorific. He’d told Donghyuck he could call him ‘hyung’ a few days ago, but this is the first time he ever actually did it.

“Is it okay if I ask you a question? About your life before you came here?”

Donghyuck visibly tenses, but immediately nods, “Of course, hyung.”

Mark chooses his words carefully. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting the boy to say, but he doesn’t want to accidentally trigger a panic attack or something.

“Last week you told Taeyong-hyung and I that your father didn’t let you out of your room very often. But Jaehyun-hyung said he found you unconscious in the bathroom. What happened?” asks Mark cautiously.

Donghyuck drops his spoon back into the bowl of soup he’d been working on and shudders slightly as he brings his hand up to his mouth. Mark briefly wonders if the boy is going to throw up, but then Donghyuck lowers his hand again and opens his mouth.

“He let me out so I could take a shower. He would do that once every month...or so. I suppose he did it when he got tired of the smell.”

Mark winces, but nods his head before continuing.

“But you didn’t take a shower, did you? You were filthy when they brought you in.”

Donghyuck squirms uncomfortably in his seat, and Taeyong must be able to sense the tension because Mark sees that he’s closed his laptop now.

“No I—I didn’t. I just—I couldn’t take it anymore and I knew there were enough pills in the cabinet to end it and I must have counted wrong or something because—”

“Donghyuck.”

“Because I woke up—”

“Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck looks up at Mark, and there are tears in his eyes. Something clicks in Mark’s mind, and he suddenly understands. This is why Donghyuck was unconscious when Taeyong and Jaehyun found him. This is why he vomited when he woke up. The boy had overdosed. Mark really doesn’t want to push the boy on the matter, but they need to talk about this. They might as well get it over with.

“Did you try to kill yourself?” Mark asks Donghyuck quietly.

Donghyuck nods pitifully, and Mark lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Please...please don’t be mad at me. You don’t understand how bad it was. He beat me and tortured me—”

“Donghyuck, stop. You need to breathe.”

The boy stops rambling and takes a deep breath. Mark notices the flinch of pain that briefly crosses Donghyuck’s features, so he scrambles to the freezer and fishes out an ice pack. When he turns back towards Donghyuck, he sees Taeyong gently rubbing the boy’s back.

“Come on, let’s get you to the couch,” suggests Taeyong, and Donghyuck lets the older boy hoist him to his feet.

As soon as Donghyuck is situated on the couch, Mark positions the ice pack on his stomach. There are tear streaks staining Donghyuck’s cheeks, and his eyes are red and dismal.

“I’m not mad at you. I just want to make sure you never feel like you have to resort to suicide again,” whispers Mark.

Donghyuck nods and extends his right hand towards Mark. He starts wiggling his fingers expectantly, and Mark finally gets the message.

He wants to hold hands.

So Mark takes Donghyuck’s hand in his own once again. Taeyong must take this as his cue to leave because he grabs his laptop off the coffee table and quietly exits the room.

Donghyuck sniffles before clearing his throat.

“I’m glad I didn’t die. I’m glad I woke up here.”

“Why’s that?” asks Mark.

“Because if I would’ve died, I never would’ve met you, hyung.”

Mark is shocked at Donghyuck’s words at first, but then he realizes something.

He feels the exact same way. If Donghyuck would’ve died in that bathroom, Mark wouldn’t have been able to meet him or care for him.

So Mark lets his impulses control his actions.

He kneels next to Donghyuck’s head as the boy lays on the couch.

“I’m really glad I met you too, Donghyuck-ah. I really am.”

Mark leans forward and plants a soft kiss on Donghyuck’s forehead. Donghyuck visibly blushes, and Mark feels a whirl of heat in his stomach.

“I have hope that I can save you yet, Donghyuck-ah,” says Mark. Donghyuck’s eyelids are visibly getting heavier, and Mark figures the stress of their conversation probably wiped him out. It doesn’t take much to exhaust the boy.

So Donghyuck falls asleep, and Mark find himself sitting by the sleeping boy’s side once again.

He doesn’t mind, though. And he doesn’t think he ever will.

Chapter Text

A couple of days later, Mark decides it’s time for Donghyuck to spend some time outside of the base. He’s been cooped up inside for over a week, and Mark doesn’t even want to begin to think about how long he was locked in that tiny, dingy room before he was rescued. Plus, the bruising on his stomach has almost faded completely after Sicheng bought him some tissue mending ointment.

Donghyuck is sitting on the living room couch next to Taeil. He’s holding a bowl of cereal in the palm of one hand and Taeil is speaking tenderly beside him. Donghyuck has a white-knuckled death grip on the spoon in his other hand, and Mark briefly wonders if introducing Donghyuck to the rest of the gang so soon was a bad idea.

As Mark approaches the couch, he is able to pick up what Taeil is saying to the younger boy.

“If you hesitate for too long, the cereal’s just going to get soggy.”

Donghyuck squirms a bit before bringing his eyes up to meet Taeil’s.

“I’m lactose intolerant, hyung,” says Donghyuck.

He’s lactose intolerant? And he didn’t tell us earlier? Mark immediately tries to analyze everything he’s been feeding Donghyuck over the past week. Why would he keep that to himself? Did he unknowingly give Donghyuck a stomachache? Didn’t Sicheng try to feed him ice cream last night?

“I am too, so I prepared it with soy milk. Now eat,” says Taeil warmly, and Mark suddenly wonders what else he doesn’t know about Donghyuck.

Donghyuck smiles at Taeil’s comment and finally digs into his bowl of cereal. Mark takes a seat on the other side of Donghyuck and gently puts a hand on shoulder.

“Donghyuck-ah, why didn’t you tell us you were lactose intolerant?”

Donghyuck shrugs as he continues eating the cereal.

“I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Mark sighs. They’ve been through this plenty of times already.

“Donghyuck, you are not a burden. You are part of this family now.”

Donghyuck nods his head slowly.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

“It’s okay. In the future, though, if there’s something we should know about you, you need to tell us,” says Mark. He lets out a half-stifled laugh before adding, “We already put up with Doyoung-hyung’s weird candle obsession and Johnny-hyung’s clumsiness. Accommodating another lactose intolerant member will be a piece of cake.”

“Yeah,” adds Taeil, “and you can’t possibly be as high maintenance as Yuta.”

Donghyuck chuckles at Mark and Taeil’s words, and Mark is captivated by the sound of the younger boy’s laughter. Happiness is not the emotion that usually radiates off of Donghyuck, so Mark is amazed by the way the edges of the boy’s eyes crinkle in amusement when he laughs. It truly is a beautiful sight, and Mark wants to make it a regular occurrence.

When Donghyuck finishes his cereal, Taeil retreats back to his room. Donghyuck sets his empty cereal bowl gently on the coffee table before resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. These random, insignificant moments of physical contact between the two have become common for Mark and Donghyuck. Donghyuck has proven to be a very touchy-feely kind of person, and Mark likes to make the boy feel safe.

He decides now is as good a time as ever to propose his idea about spending time outside of the base to Donghyuck.

So Mark chooses his words carefully.

“Donghyuck-ah, I think it’s time we went shopping for some things for you. You can’t keep wearing my clothes all the time. They’re too big on you, anyway.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen in surprise. Mark thinks he sees a glint of interest flash in his eyes as well.

“I don’t have any money, hyung,” he says softly.

“It’s alright. Taeyong-hyung gave me some. We have more than enough. We can certainly spare some for you.”

Taeyong had actually asked each member to donate a bit of their own spending money so Mark could take Donghyuck shopping. Each member had eagerly agreed, and Taeyong donated a hefty sum himself.

Donghyuck opens his mouth to protest, but Mark cuts him off.

“This is non-negotiable. If you’re going to live here, we’re going to make you feel at home. Are you feeling up to leaving the base today?”

Donghyuck hesitates a bit, but then he puts his hand over the top of Mark’s and gives it a soft squeeze.

“I think I’m ready,” he says.

~

Mark decides to take Donghyuck to the mall down the street. It’s close enough that they can walk, and Taeyong can be there in two minutes to pick them up if Donghyuck gets too overwhelmed.

The mall is fairly busy, and Mark can tell that the mass of strangers around them is putting Donghyuck off. He quickly grabs ahold of Donghyuck’s hand and laces their fingers together. The last thing he wants is to get separated from Donghyuck in large, public space.

They go into a large department store first, focusing on getting Donghyuck his own clothes.

Mark goes into the fitting room with Donghyuck as he tries on countless pairs of jeans, sweaters, and t-shirts. Mark notices that Donghyuck seems to be attracted to dark colored clothes. He ends up choosing a couple pairs of black jeans first. He also goes for a navy blue sweater, a gray crewneck, and a soft black t-shirt. When Mark suggests a more vibrantly colored sweatshirt, Donghyuck scrunches his nose in disgust.

Mark is glad that the boy seems to have his own sense of style, no matter how simple and dark it is.

When they get to the shoe section, Mark is proud to see that Donghyuck takes the most interest in the black pair of converse high tops.

By the time they finish shopping for clothes, their cart is piled high with various articles of apparel.

Before they leave the mall, Mark suggests they shop for some personal toiletries for Donghyuck. When they find the appropriate aisle, Donghyuck is clearly very bewildered by the various products lining the shelves.

When Donghyuck was first brought into the base, Jaehyun had gone to the drug store across the street to purchase the boy a toothbrush. That was pretty much the only commodity he already had, besides shampoo and soap.

Mark ends up picking pretty much everything out for him. He gets deodorant, a comb, some moisturizer, and a handful of other miscellaneous things. Donghyuck stays quiet the entire time, except for when he informed Mark that he preferred the fruity toothpaste over the minty kind.

After they’ve made their purchases, they begin their trek back to the base. Donghyuck keeps his head down for most of the journey, and Mark wonders if something at the mall bothered him.

When they get back home, they plop their shopping bags onto the floor of Mark’s bedroom. The base does have a couple of extra rooms, and Mark wants to turn one of them into a bedroom for Donghyuck. Taeyong was quick to agree with Mark’s idea, but they have yet to put it into action.

They need to take things one step at a time.

Mark begins taking Donghyuck’s new clothes out of their bags and setting them on top of his dresser. Tomorrow he’ll clean out one of his drawers for Donghyuck to use. When he turns back around, Donghyuck is sitting on Mark’s bed. He’s fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt, and the look on his face is extremely nervous.

“Donghyuck-ah, what’s the matter?” asks Mark softly, sitting down next to the boy.

Donghyuck takes a deep breath.

“Do you...do you remember this morning when you said if there’s something you should know about me then I should tell you?” The tremble in his voice mimics the trembling of his hands.

“Of course,” says Mark cautiously.

Then, Donghyuck looks Mark right in the eye. Mark can feel his soft eyes piercing his own, and he almost has the urge to look away. He doesn’t, though. He’s too captivated by Donghyuck’s gaze.

“Hyung, I have something to tell you,” says Donghyuck slowly.

“What is it, Donghyuck-ah?” asks Mark.

“I’m gay, hyung.”

Chapter Text

“I’m gay, hyung.”

Mark doesn’t know what he was expecting Donghyuck to say. Maybe something like ‘I can’t sleep without a nightlight’ or ‘I only wear my socks inside out.’

He was certainly not expecting Donghyuck to come out to him. Now, though, Donghyuck is looking at him fearfully with those eyes. Mark has to say something, anything, to let Donghyuck know that it’s okay. He needs Donghyuck to know that his sexuality won’t change anything.

But there’s a subdued heat spreading from the pit of his stomach all the way up to his cheeks. The realization of what’s happening hits Mark like a piercing jab to the gut.

He’d be lying if he told Donghyuck that his sudden confession didn’t change anything.

No, it changes everything.

Mark suddenly feels strangely optimistic, like it just became possible for all of his hopes and dreams to come true.

It doesn’t matter though, no, none of it matters, Mark thinks, because Donghyuck is still looking at him expectantly. He has to say something to put the boy at ease.

Before he can stop himself, he makes a confession himself.

“I’m gay too, Donghyuck-ah. It’s alright.”

Donghyuck pulls a face that appears to be a mixture of relief and surprise and—is he blushing?

Before Mark can even process the fact that he just revealed his sexuality to Donghyuck, there’s an ear-piercing yell of distress coming from somewhere else in the base. Mark throws his bedroom door open so he can hear what the fuck is happening and his ears are suddenly assaulted by a plethora of anguished screams.

“What the hell happened? I thought you two went out on a harmless mission!” Someone shouts. Mark thinks it sounds like Johnny.

“Don’t just stand there! Get him on the table before he passes out! Now!” He recognizes that voice as Taeyong.

Next, he hears Jaehyun shout, “Someone get Mark and Sicheng!”

Mark snaps out of his stunned haze when he hears his own name. He turns around quickly and gestures for Donghyuck to stay sitting on the bed.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” he says as he sprints out the door. He feels bad for leaving Donghyuck hanging like that, but, fuck, something is wrong. Something is really really wrong because he’s never heard Taeyong yell before. Sure, he can be stern and intimidating sometimes, but he’s not usually one to raise his voice. He’s authoritative, but in a gentle way.

Mark follows the screams down the hall, and as he’s about to enter the living room, he hears the most appalling cry of pain. Part of him wants to turn the hell around and go back to his sweet, soft, precious Donghyuck—

Sweet? Soft? Precious? What the fuck is wrong with him? Now is not the time.

He throws the living room door open and is met with a scene of absolute chaos. Jaehyun is standing closest to him. He has his back turned on the rest of the group, his shoulders are slumped, and his head is bowed and is he crying?

Mark rushes past him to where the rest of the gang is crowding around their dining room table. Taeyong sees him coming and quickly pushes everyone out of the way so Mark can get through. Sicheng is already kneeling next to the table with a med kit and when he sees Mark, he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Mark, I need you to put pressure on the wound. I have to give him something for the pain so he sits still,” says Sicheng.

It’s Doyoung. He’s sprawled out on their dining room table and there’s so much blood. Mark immediately recognizes the wound on his upper abdomen as a gunshot wound, and he numbly presses the heels of his hands against the opening. Somehow, Doyoung is still conscious despite the amount of pain he must be in. His skin is snowy white and there’s blood spilling from the corners of his mouth, but his eyes are wide open. His entire body is shaking slightly, and Mark is afraid he might start seizing.

Mark brings his attention back to the wound as he sees Sicheng scrubbing Doyoung’s arm with a disinfecting wipe. If he’s correct, the wound shouldn’t be fatal. It missed his liver, but there will most likely be some sort of infection if any stomach acid starts leaking. Sicheng sticks a syringe into Doyoung’s upper arm, and the latter’s body almost immediately goes limp.

“The anesthetic will probably start to wear off in a little over an hour,” says Sicheng, “We need to get the bullet out.”

Mark almost gags because, fuck, he’s a medic, not a surgeon. In the past, he’s treated broken bones and dislocated shoulders. One time, Johnny managed to get shot in the leg. It had been tricky, but Mark was able to patch him up. Fishing a bullet out of his gang mate’s stomach, though? That was going to be a challenge.

Sicheng starts prepping the wound so they can start digging the bullet out of Doyoung’s gut, and Mark very nearly starts hyperventilating.

All he can hear are Jaehyun’s faint sobs, and Taeyong is pacing back and forth behind the couch and Sicheng is handing him a scalpel and—

“Hyung.”

When did Donghyuck get in here? How long has he been sitting there?

“You need to relax. Doyoung-hyung needs you right now,” Donghyuck has joined him beside the table, and before Mark can tell him to go back upstairs and wait, the younger boy leans in.

He leans in so close that his lips are millimeters from Mark’s.

“And I need you, hyung,” he whispers. Mark can feel his hot breath against his lips and his mouth practically starts watering. He’s about to reach out and squeeze Donghyuck’s hand out of gratitude when the boy leans in even closer.

Before Mark can react, Donghyuck is kissing him. The kiss is soft, and Donghyuck’s plush lips feel so warm and pleasant against his own. He feels absolutely amazing, and Donghyuck smells so good. Mark could just live in this moment forever and he’s about to pull Donghyuck’s whole body closer to his own when the younger boy breaks their contact.

Suddenly, Donghyuck is clutching the scalpel Sicheng had been holding out to him moments before. Donghyuck takes Mark’s hand and carefully unfolds his fingers, placing the scalpel in his palm.

“You can do this, hyung,” he whispers.

With that, Donghyuck gets up and retreats to the back of the room.

Mark feels flustered, but suddenly invigorated. He realizes that the rest of the gang is counting on him to do this, including Donghyuck. With all the determination Donghyuck’s kiss gave him pumping through his body, Mark gives Sicheng a quick nod and starts digging for the bullet.

He’s focused on fishing the bullet out of Doyoung because the boy is like an older brother to him. However, he’s also focused because Donghyuck is expecting him to be strong.

Suddenly, being the best he can be for Donghyuck seems very important.

Chapter Text

Anxious.

Mark is so anxious he feels like he could throw up.

After he’d successfully extracted the bullet from Doyoung’s stomach, Sicheng stitched up the wound and ordered Johnny to carry him up to his room. Everything was supposed to be fine after that. Because of the IV drip full of painkillers Mark had hooked Doyoung up to, the latter was supposed to wake up without feeling much pain.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

No, Doyoung had woken up pale and clammy and disoriented.

“Dizzy,” he’d said when Mark asked him how he felt, “I feel really dizzy.”

A few seconds after that, Doyoung turned his head to the side and puked, very narrowly missing Jaehyun’s shoes.

Hypovolemia. It occurs when your blood volume gets too low, and it can be fatal. Mark hadn’t realized he’d said the word out loud until Sicheng’s wide eyes met his own.

They should’ve considered the possibility that Doyoung lost too much blood earlier. They’d just been so concerned with the gaping hole in his stomach that they hadn’t been paying attention.

Fuck. So fucking stupid.

Doyoung needed a blood transfusion as soon as possible or else he could go into shock.

Taeyong had almost immediately offered to donate blood to Doyoung and, to Mark’s great relief, Sicheng offered to oversee the transfusion.

So, now, a few hours later, Mark is sitting on the front steps of their mansion-like base watching the night life of Seoul thrive right in front of him. There are taxis zooming by and flashy signs blinking in the distance.

Right, he thinks, the rest of the world carried on despite what happened to Doyoung.

Mark just sits there, shivering at the cool night air and thinking about whether or not his hyung is going to die tonight. He thinks he feels tears welling up behind his eyes when he suddenly notices a soft hand on his shoulder.

He thought Donghyuck had gone to bed a while ago. Mark is thankful that he didn’t.

The warmth that the presence Donghyuck’s body brings when the boy sits himself beside Mark on the steps is overwhelming.

“You did well tonight, hyung,” whispers Donghyuck.

“Thanks, Donghyuck-ah.”

“Can we talk?”

Mark figures he might want to talk about the kiss. That soft, magical kiss. Donghyuck is right. They should talk about it.

So, Mark nods, “Yeah, of course we can talk, Donghyuck. We can always talk.”

Donghyuck puts his palms on the concrete and shifts his body so he’s facing more towards Mark. The boy visibly winces as he moves, and Mark’s heart jumps into his throat.

“Are you hurt?” he asks frantically.

“No, relax. I hurt my wrist a long time ago and it never really healed properly, so it still hurts sometimes.”

“Did your dad do it?”

Donghyuck sighs and brushes the hair out of his eyes with a trembling hand. Mark wonders if he shouldn’t have asked.

“Yeah, actually. He, uh, broke my wrist a couple of years ago when I tried to steal some food from the kitchen.”

And there it is again. That sick feeling in Mark’s stomach.

“I’m sorry,” whispers Mark.

Donghyuck just shrugs.

“You get used to it after a while. The pain, I mean.”

Fuck.

Donghyuck shouldn’t have to get used to pain. Mark doesn’t know why he keeps asking the boy questions. Maybe it’s because he’s realized how little he actually knows about him. Or, maybe it’s because he wants to take his mind off the day’s events. It’s probably a mixture of the two.

“Did your dad abuse you because you’re gay?”

Donghyuck reaches for Mark’s hand, and Mark lets him take it in his own.

“Actually, no. He hated me because he blamed me for my mother’s death.”

What?

Mark raises his eyebrows in an inquisitive manner, and Donghyuck takes it as his cue to go on.

“Yeah...like up until five years ago we were a pretty happy family. I was sick one night in the winter, though. It was just a fever and a headache. You know, your average winter time flu. My mom went out to get some fever reducers from the drug store across the street. When she was crossing the street, she—she was hit by a drunk driver and killed on impact. It was a hit and run kind of thing, but they eventually caught the guy. Anyway, my dad blamed me because she left the house to get medicine for me. He pretty much turned into a raging alcoholic and well...you— you know the rest.”

Mark looks at Donghyuck and sees a couple of tear streaks painting his face. It must have been really hard for him to tell Mark that story because the boy is shaking slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Donghyuck-ah,” says Mark. He never really thought life could be this wretched. He thinks back to just a few hours earlier when he himself was feeling overwhelmed by reality.

Donghyuck had been there for him. Mark figures he should return the favor.

So, Mark puts a gentle hand on the side of Donghyuck’s face and looks the boy straight in the eyes.

Donghyuck looks surprised, but pleased. When Mark leans in and presses his lips to Donghyuck’s, Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to kiss him back. Mark reaches his other hand around to Donghyuck’s back and gently pulls the boy closer to him. His tender lips are all Mark needs right now, and he hopes Donghyuck is enjoying this as much as he is.

It’s almost over before it even starts because Donghyuck is suddenly pulling away. Mark is afraid he upset the boy, but the look of contentment on his face tells him otherwise.

Donghyuck scoots even closer to Mark on the concrete steps and lightly rests his head on Mark’s shoulder.

“I think I might love you, hyung,” he says slowly.

Mark didn’t expect the phrase to sound so welcome coming from Donghyuck’s lips. It’s like music to his ears. He doesn’t feel shocked or overwhelmed. No, he just feels unconditionally mutual.

“I think I love you too, Donghyuck-ah.”

Mark wraps his arm around the younger boy’s shoulder and hugs him close. It’s amazing how Donghyuck has been through so much, but he can literally make any situation, no matter how miserable, better.

Mark thinks he really won the jackpot when Taeyong and Jaehyun and brought that broken, filthy boy home after their mission. He really didn’t think his life would change so drastically that day. But, he sure is glad it did.

He’s about to suggest that the two of them go inside and warm up when he hears the door close behind him.

It’s Taeyong. He’s paler than usual and there’s a bandage wrapped around his forearm from where Sicheng drew his blood, but the look in his eyes is determined.

“Doyoung’s awake. He’s going to be okay,” he says, and Mark feels like a million pounds were just lifted from his shoulders.

Two minutes later, Mark and Donghyuck are standing at Doyoung’s bedside while Taeyong sits in a chair next to them. Jaehyun is laying next to Doyoung whispering soothing words into his ear, and Doyoung giggles.

He giggles.

Mark feels like he might cry, and Donghyuck must sense it because he quickly intertwines his fingers with Mark’s.

“How are you feeling now that you’re pumped full of new blood and a shit ton of painkillers?” Sicheng asks Doyoung, and Doyoung smiles.

“I’ve never felt better,” laughs Doyoung. He flinches in pain after he laughs, but he seems a million times better than before.

Mark is relieved to see that he really is fine. Everything is fine because Doyoung is alive and Mark has Donghyuck. In fact, Mark feels like everything couldn’t possibly be more fine right now.

Chapter Text

It was Donghyuck’s idea, and Mark couldn’t find it in himself to deny the boy of his request.

It’s been less than a week since the incident with Doyoung and the bullet, and Mark wonders if it’s too soon. He wonders if it’s too much.

But Donghyuck had insisted, so here they are. The two of them are standing outside of the bar Donghyuck’s father had owned. There’s a side door leading to set of old stairs that Donghyuck tells him open up into the apartment above the bar.

The very apartment Donghyuck had suffered in for the past five years.

If he’s being honest, the idea of going inside makes Mark want to throw up. Donghyuck had insisted that he needed to get a few things, though, so Mark decided to go with him.

Mark holds Donghyuck’s hand as they walk silently up the stairs, and Donghyuck slips his free hand behind a loose wooden panel in the hallway. His fingers emerge a moment later clutching a dusty house key, which he promptly inserts into the door’s lock.

Mark doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

The apartment looks totally normal. It even looks a little nicer than your average family apartment in Seoul. The living room is clean and full of modern furnishings. The sofa looks like it might even be velvet, and the coffee table is spotless.

All the while, there’s something that puts Mark off. He can’t really put his finger on it, but there’s something uncharacteristically foul wafting through the room.

Donghyuck seems rather unfazed by the living room, though, so he pulls Mark down the hall. The walls of the short hallway are completely bare. Donghyuck doesn’t spare the walls a glance, but Mark finds himself choking back tears. There’s no artwork, Christmas cards, or family photos displayed on the walls. It’s just so sad.

The air of unpleasantness Mark had sensed in the living room increases tenfold when Donghyuck stops outside of a closed wooden door towards the end of the hall. Donghyuck slowly opens the door, and Mark is suddenly able to pinpoint what it was that put him off a few minutes earlier.

It was that awful smell. The room has a subtle yet nauseating stench of filth and waste. Donghyuck had told him that he spent days, sometimes weeks, at a time locked in this room with no access to a bathroom, but Mark didn’t really think about it too much.

Donghyuck looks at him apologetically and continues into the room. Mark hesitates, but ultimately follows him into the small room.

If Donghyuck spent five years in this shit hole, then you sure as hell can handle a few minutes.

The room is dirty, but relatively bare. There’s an old, yellowing mattress in the corner with a gray blanket draped over it. There’s also a small window that looks out over the street below.

Donghyuck is on his knees wiggling the floorboards loose next to the mattress, and he looks up when he sees that Mark has wandered over to the window.

“I know what you’re thinking,” whispers Donghyuck, “but it doesn’t open. I’ve tried. You get used to the smell after a while, though.”

Mark brings his attention back to the window and, sure enough, there doesn’t seem to be any way to even crack the window open. It’s completely sealed.

Mark looks from the window to Donghyuck and from Donghyuck to the grimy mattress. The room is just so dehumanizing. He can barely stand it. It’s just so unfair. It’s so wrong.

Mark wants, no, needs to show Donghyuck that he’s much more than this apartment. That he’s much more than this room.

Donghyuck pulls a shoebox out from underneath the floorboards he had been fiddling with, and Mark takes him by the hand and pulls him back to his feet.

“Is that what we came for?” asks Mark, and Donghyuck nods.

The two of them waste no time in getting the fuck out of the room and back down the stairs. Taeyong is waiting for them with a car out front.

~

When they return to the base, Jaehyun is putting the finishing touches on their dinner. They’re eating non-fatty foods for Doyoung’s sake, as he still can’t stomach all the things he could before being shot. No one really minds, though.

The whole gang is seated at their long dining room table. Mark is about to dig in when Taeyong stands up.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” he says, and Donghyuck looks at Mark in confusion.

Mark gestures towards the glass next to Donghyuck’s plate. The younger boy takes the glass in his hand, and Mark feels pride well up in his chest.

If anyone deserves this, it’s Donghyuck.

“I’d like to propose a toast to the newest member of our gang, Lee Donghyuck,” finishes Taeyong.

Mark watches the look on Donghyuck’s face turn from bewilderment to pure elation. The boy’s face lights up like the sun, and Mark gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Donghyuck is our brother now, and you all will treat him as a member of this family,” Taeyong’s eyes linger on Mark for a moment before his mouth twists into a smug smirk, “or perhaps as something more.”

Mark feels heat rising in his cheeks and, fuck, how obvious had he and Donghyuck been?

Donghyuck looks entirely embarrassed. Mark looks around at the rest of the members of the gang and notices that just about all of them are giving him encouraging smiles. He suddenly catches Sicheng’s eye, and the older boy nods towards Donghyuck.

So, Mark squeezes Donghyuck’s hand a little tighter and and leans in. Donghyuck leans in as well, and the two of them are suddenly kissing passionately.

All of the sudden, it’s just the two of them in the room. There’s no one holding them back. There’s nothing holding them back. There’s no pain, no trauma, no nothing.

Mark reaches up and runs his hand through Donghyuck’s hair. Heat rises in his cheeks once more when he hears Donghyuck let out a soft moan. Mark doesn’t even care that the others can see and hear them. He’s wanted to taste Donghyuck so effortlessly for so long, and he feels like there’s finally nothing in the world that can stop him from doing so.

This, Mark thinks, is what love is.

~

That night, Donghyuck curls up next to Mark in Mark’s bed. Donghyuck’s shoebox is sitting open at their feet.

Donghyuck had just finished going through the box’s contents with Mark. There had been a few photographs of Donghyuck’s mother, a journal, a small sketchbook, a deck of cards, and a few other odds and ends.

Donghyuck had revealed to Mark that he often wrote poetry and drew pictures of the things he could see outside his window in order to pass the time. There were pages and pages of poetry, diary entries, and short stories in Donghyuck’s journal. All kinds of sketches of storefronts, trees, and people walking dogs covered the pages of his sketchbook.

Most of the poems were sad and most of the drawings were rather dreary, but some of then conveyed hope.

“What were you hoping for? When you wrote and drew all this stuff?” whispered Mark.

Donghyuck had hesitated.

“I was hoping for a anything, really. Any kind of escape from all the pain. Then I woke up here. I’m really grateful, you know. For you and your friends. Especially for you, hyung.”

“I’m really grateful for you too, Donghyuck-ah,” whispered Mark.

And, now, Mark wraps his arms around Donghyuck’s waist and sits his chin on the boy’s shoulder. He hugs Donghyuck close because he needs Donghyuck to feel this physical contact. He needs Donghyuck to know that he will always be there him, that he will never hurt him, and that he will never disappear.

“I love you, hyung,” whispers Donghyuck.

“I love you, too, Donghyuck,” Mark replies, “Sleep well. I’ll start training you to become a medic for the gang tomorrow.”

Taeyong had given Mark the okay to start training Donghyuck to become part of NCT. Mark was interested in training Donghyuck to become a medic for several reasons.

The idea of saving the lives of his loved ones with Donghyuck by his side seemed very appealing. After all, the two of them had saved each other in more ways than one.