Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Donghyuck found the book in his university's library. He hadn’t been studying there, or anything. He was resting up in between his eight a.m. and his next class at eleven, tucked away in a corner on one of the library’s top floors, when he happened to spy it. It stood out, distinct among the rest of the books in the shelves in the dark row where he’d made his nap space.

The book was grubby, old. It looked as though a slight gust of wind might send its cover flying off. Donghyuck squinted at it from his perch on the ground, but he couldn’t make out a single letter of the title. He didn’t even know if it was written in any recognizable language.

Donghyuck did what any reasonable person would do when confronted by a mysterious, ancient tome. He jumped up and daintily plucked it from the shelf.

Eagerly, he cracked it open. He held his breath as a strong waft of the musty smell of old parchment gusted up. As he read the words that were written in crackled old ink across the book’s cover page, Donghyuck started to smile.

‘Magick Moste Potente’, it read.

Donghyuck wondered if the book was some prop from a film student’s final project film. He wondered if it had somehow had found its way onto the shelf. It didn’t look as though it’d been artificially aged, though, Donghyuck thought.

Donghyuck thumbed through it, his curiosity mounting. The paper was thicker than he was used to. It felt grainy to the touch, its edges time-darkened. The words within were legible but only just. The cramped pages were full of misspellings and gnarled, handwritten characters.

Donghyuck turned another page, taking care with the rigid paper, and his breath caught in his throat.

‘Daemones Invokare’, written in a different color from the rest of the text. It was a deep burgundy tone, faded almost to brown at the barest edges of the letters. Almost as though it’d been written in blood. Donghyuck involuntarily shuddered, but he dismissed the thought.

Beneath the Latin, a list of instructions. Donghyuck’s eyes flitted back and forth as he scoured the page. He didn’t know the first thing about Latin, but he knew what demons were. He’d seen his fair share of Supernatural.

Donghyuck was starting to think that, whatever this book was, it was the real deal. Why he’d found an ancient book purporting to be able to help the reader summon demons, he couldn’t be sure. But, a small voice in Donghyuck’s head pointed out, the demon invocation didn’t look like it required a lot of time or effort.

Even if it was futile, it wouldn’t waste more than half an hour of Donghyuck’s time to carry out. Donghyuck had wasted many half hours doing even dumber shit, the small voice added. Donghyuck had to admit that its logic was beginning to make sense.

With that creeping thought in mind, Donghyuck gingerly slipped the book into his backpack. Carefully, right in between his laptop and his chemistry textbook. If nothing else, he thought, he was protecting the book from falling into the wrong hands. Someone with less innocent intentions than he could have found it and summoned up a demon for some awful purpose.

Not Donghyuck. Curiosity wasn’t the worst reason to want to carry out demonic rituals, he reasoned.

All throughout his eleven o'clock lecture, the book weighed on Donghyuck’s mind. Rather than copying the professor’s lecture on elements and valences, Donghyuck spent the period scribbling notes on the supplies the book had listed for the ritual.

He just needed candles, an altar, and some chalk he could use to draw the inverted pentagram. He was pretty sure he could sneak into Renjun’s dorm and steal a portion of his scented candle collection without Renjun noticing. Renjun’s roommate Jaemin would let him in, and he’d never dare tattle on Donghyuck. Donghyuck had leverage on him. He knew secrets.

An altar. Donghyuck scratched the word out, on his notes. A desk would work just fine, he thought. He was too lazy to bother with going to the art store by campus to pick up chalk. He hoped washable marker would work for the rital.

He didn’t really want to be stuck with a pentagram permanently drawn on his dorm’s desk. Donghyuck thought that might not go over well with either Jeno or their RAs.

Donghyuck caught the girl who was seated beside him eying his notes. Her eyebrows has risen nearly up to her hairline, and her hand had stilled in her own note-taking. Donghyuck flipped the page to a fresh sheet, then shot her a look.

He figured it was her own fault she’d gone and alarmed herself. If she didn’t want to see his plans for demon summoning, perhaps she shouldn’t have gone around snooping in other people’s notebooks.

Donghyuck stopped by Renjun and Jaemin’s on the way back to his dorm. Expectedly, Renjun was out and Jaemin was there. Unexpectedly, he didn’t have company.

“Hey, Jaemin,” Donghyuck grinned, as Jaemin opened the door.

He peered around him, looking for a foreign face. Some stranger who’d stick around for a week or two before Jaemin gave them the boot, because he was flawed, and they were too good for him. That claim was a load of shit, of course. The strangers all just lacked certain Renjun-like attributes.

“What are you looking for?” Jaemin asked, sounding amused, “I’m right here.”

Donghyuck let out a short sigh. He ducked under Jaemin’s outstretched arm and into the dorm. As he’d thought, it was unoccupied aside from Jaemin.

He stalked over to Renjun’s side of the room, raising his hand and tapping his chin as he surveyed the tidy space.

“Try it on someone who hasn’t had to listen to you sob for an hour because you got wasted and threw up all over your only pink polo shirt,” Donghyuck frowned. Renjun’s space was too tidy. He couldn’t see any of the candles that he knew, for a fact, Renjun had brought from home, “Where are Renjun’s candles?”

“Ouch,” Jaemin intoned. Though, from his tone, he was more entertained than hurt. Donghyuck heard the dorm door close. A moment later, the sound of Jaemin’s footsteps signalled his approach.

“Candles?” Jaemin repeated, “What do you need Renjun’s candles for?”

Donghyuck dropped to his knees, and started digging through the boxes underneath Renjun’s bed. Hopefully Renjun would forgive him if he noticed anything had moved, but Donghyuck didn’t plan on leaving any traces behind.

“I’m trying to summon a demon,” Donghyuck answered, short.

He stuck his tongue out between his teeth as he reached shoulder deep into a box that already looked promising. He spied bathbombs and incense within it.

“Oh. Right.”

There was a moment of silence. Donghyuck let out a slight sound of triumph as his fingers hit a wide cylinder of glass. He grabbed for it and withdrew it. A baby pink candle, supposedly scented like Summer Sangria. One down, three to go. He reached back in the box.

“Did someone piss you off or…?”

Donghyuck located another candle. He drew that one out too. It was a deep evergreen, Pine Forest scented. It wouldn’t really mesh with the Summer Sangria, but Donghyuck was desperate. He placed it by the other candle, carefully setting it on the dorm room floor. He reached into the box with both hands.

“Nah,” Donghyuck explained, “I just found this really old book in the library and it had a bunch of dark magic in it and, well, you know.”

“I’m not sure that I do, actually,” Jaemin said, slow and cautious.

Donghyuck let out a muted ‘A-ha!’ as he found two other candles. He drew them out of the box, victorious. Cosy Sweater and Vanilla Frosting, respectively. Donghyuck was almost tempted to keep those two after he’d finished the ritual.

He slid the box back under Renjun’s bed, untucking the bed’s comforter when it was snagged and tugged back with the box. He checked that he’d left the area exactly as he’d found it-- minus the four candles. Once he was satisfied that he had, Donghyuck gathered the candles into his grasp and clambered up.

Jaemin was staring at him, his brows lifted in what might have been either concern or confusion.

“Hyuck, are you, like... good?” he asked. His question halted Donghyuck in his tracks, before he had to chance to start for the door.

Donghyuck blinked at him, feeling more than a little dismayed at how quickly Jaemin had jumped to the conclusion that he was unwell.

“I can’t attempt a little demonic ritual without having my sanity questioned?”

Jaemin stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. His gaze was uncertain.

“Finals are coming up. Stress can make you do funny things,” he said.

“Ah. So you think I’m crazy?” Donghyuck accused. He sighed, forlorn, “Maybe I’ll send the demon after you right after I successfully summon it.”

Donghyuck was joking. He was pretty sure he was joking, anyways.

Jaemin pulled a face, “You do that.”

“I’ll figure out a way for the demon to make you tell Renjun how you feel,” Donghyuck muttered as he walked out from their dorm room, “That’d be diabolical.”

“I’m getting shivers,” Jaemin said, in the flattest voice, before shutting the door in Donghyuck’s face.

Donghyuck frowned at the closed door for a beat. He resolved to get revenge, some way or another. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder, carefully laid the candles around so they wouldn’t bump up against the magic book as he walked, then continued on his way.

Five floors up and ten minutes of hastily lighting candles and sketching a massive five point star on his desk later, Donghyuck was ready to begin the ritual. He drew the blinds closed, dimming the room. He flicked the lock on their door, so he’d at least buy himself some time in between the rattle of Jeno’s key and Jeno’s entry. He’d need to throw some books over the pentagram to hide what he was doing, or he’d risk upsetting Jeno.

Donghyuck slipped into his desk chair and cracked open the book. He carded carefully through it until he landed on the ‘ Daemon Invokares’ page once more. Donghyuck wondered whether he ought to play some music. Something dark, ominous. Something befitting the act of demon summoning.

Then, he dismissed the idea as a symptom that all the mixed scents of all of Renjun’s candles getting to his head. Donghyuck scanned the page, looking for the summoning words that had been written in capital letters. He found them, easily. Looking closer than he had looked at the text in the library, Donghyuck noticed that there was something written to the side of the summoning words.

It was a note, its letters hard to read and slanted, as though they had been dashed off in a hurry. Donghyuck craned his head and squinted to decipher the untidy scrawl.

‘do not utter aloud’

Donghyuck’s eyes were caught on the scrawled warning. He found himself unable to look away from it. He thought, briefly, that he could stop and consider the consequences of his planned actions. Then that thought was stamped out, as he reminded himself that there wouldn’t be any consequences for his actions.

Demons weren’t real, magic wasn’t real. Donghyuck was just doing this because he was putting off doing his biology homework, and absolutely nothing would come of it.

Donghyuck straightened his back, cleared his throat, and started reading.

It was a short incantation, but he hadn’t practiced it before lightning the candles and drawing the pentagram, so he had no way of knowing if he’d said it correctly. As Donghyuck spoke, the wisps of flame above all four candles flickered, although the air was stagnant within the dorm.

The light from the window lessened. It was as though a cloud had been blown over the sun, throwing the world into shadow. The room itself, already dim, went even darker.

Donghyuck forged on. With a conviction he didn’t feel, he said the final words.

“Daemon, esto subjecto voluntati meae. Et ad congregandum, eos coram me.”

Donghyuck waited, with bated breath, the magic book still held in his hands. For a moment, the room shifted even darker, the four candles serving as the sole sources of light. The candles’ flames flared up, stretching into inches-tall spires that had Donghyuck leaning back out of the fear of getting burned.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything went back to normal. The clouds outside dissipated, leaving Donghyuck’s dorm saturated with the sunlight that diffused through the window’s blinds.

The candles’ flames extinguished themselves, one by one, in a clockwork motion. The last flame to go out was the leftmost one. Donghyuck eyed it, uneasy. He followed the subtle curl of smoke from it as it drifted up towards the ceiling, his heart racing from everything that had happened as he’d read the summoning words.

There was a knock at the door, to Donghyuck’s left. Startled, he jumped. He froze, as dread filled him-- an unnatural dark, chilled sensation. Donghyuck peered at the door and inhaled, shaky. Whoever it was had only knocked two times, and no more.

Donghyuck told himself it was probably just Jeno. Maybe he’d forgotten his key, or lost it in his backpack, again. He just kept telling himself that, as he hastily pushed the candles to the back of his desk and pulled a few textbooks haphazardly over the pentagram.

Donghyuck jumped up and strode to the door, both dreading and anticipating opening it and finding out whoever was beyond it.

Donghyuck yanked it open. His breath caught in his throat. The boy on the other side of the door definitely wasn’t Jeno. Donghyuck blinked as he took him in.

He had big black boots on, dark jeans so tight they garnered a raised eyebrow from Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s eyes continued to travel up. He was wearing yet more black-- a black tee underneath a leather jacket. The boy’s eyes, lined with dark, smudged kohl, were narrowed by the time Donghyuck’s gaze finally reached them. His brows, swooping arches, were pulled low over them.

Donghyuck jolted. He realized, with a hot curl of embarrassment, that he’d been caught staring.

“Uh. Hi,” Donghyuck greeted, weak.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his demon summoning stuff was hidden from view. For the most part, he was safe. A corner of the pentagram, an eye-catching purple because of the marker he’d chosen, was still visible. Donghyuck would just have to shuttle this guy away before he was any the wiser.

“Can I help you?” Donghyuck asked, keeping his voice neutral. He pulled the door a little tighter in, just in case.

“That depends,” the goth guy said, “Are you Lee Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck wondered if he should lie. He could say his name was Jeno, that Donghyuck was out right then, that Goth Guy should just come back later. He pressed his lips together.

“Yes,” he admitted.

Goth Guy let out a soft sound of disbelief, a scoff. He seemed to take in Donghyuck for the first time. Donghyuck tried not to fidget, as Goth Guy’s eyes flicked over the length of him. He felt distinctly shabby, in his regular old non-skintight jeans, and his regular old t-shirt he’d gotten for free at some university function.

“You’re the guy who managed to complete the invocation ritual?” His voice was odd. There was a note there that, if Donghyuck didn’t know any better, he might think was awed, “Wow. I mean, no offense, but I was expecting someone a bit more… evil.”

Donghyuck blanched as the words ‘invocation’ and ‘ritual’ escaped Goth Guy’s lips.

Panicked, he reached out and grasped the guy’s forearm. Donghyuck pulled him inside the dorm, locking the door behind them.

“How do you know about that? Are you some kind of stalker?” he hissed, his throat seizing up.

He wondered if Goth Guy was part of the NSA or the FBI. Maybe he’d seen Donghyuck take the magic book from the library and he’d gotten curious. Maybe he was a vengeful priest, pissed off that Donghyuck had tried to summon a demon.

Donghyuck froze, once more. He’d only realized then, once they were out of the darkened hallway and into the sunlit dorm, that the guy’s ears didn’t look like normal ears. Instead of cresting in a smooth curve like they should have, they were slightly pinched off at the top, ending in a tip.

Goth Guy had pointed ears. Donghyuck let out a measured breath, trying to tell himself that, though not exactly normal, it wasn’t that weird for people to have pointed ears. Maybe Goth Guy was a cosplayer or a plastic surgery addict. Maybe he’d actually been born that way, or--.

“Dude,” Goth Guy raised his hands in a placating gesture, “Chill. I’m your demon.”

Donghyuck’s heart stopped entirely.

“You’re my what?”

Goth Guy smiled. His lips parted and the corners of his mouth lifted, spreading into a nervous grin. It was then that Donghyuck realized that the tips of his canine teeth were sharpened. They ended in a slight but definite point. Pointed ears, pointed teeth.

Donghyuck was starting to feel lightheaded, as Goth Guy shook his raised hands in a facsimile of jazz hands.

“Ta-da?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Donghyuck said, dazed, still looking at the guy’s pointed teeth.

He watched as the smile slid off the guy’s face. Donghyuck saw his nostrils flare, before an uncertain expression crossed his face.

“Why does it smell like tropical Christmas in here?” the guy asked.

Donghyuck instinctively shifted, putting his body in between the guy and his desk. On it, the traces of the summoning ritual remained. The candles still had melted wax. The pentagram was still visible, exposing him.

“You’re probably just inventing smells,” Donghyuck said, quickly spinning a cover up, “It might be connected to your delusions of being a mythical creature?” Donghyuck shook his head, schooled his expression into something sympathetic, piteous, “You should see someone about that.”

As much as Donghyuck blustered through it, feigning confidence, he was filled with doubt. Goth Guy seemed to have knowledge he shouldn’t have. He knew what Donghyuck had been doing right before he’d knocked. He certainly looked the part, from all the black right down to his pointed ears and teeth.

“You summoned me with scented candles?” the guy asked, aghast.

He strode forward, past Donghyuck, to his desk. Donghyuck was helpless but to watch, as the guy shoved his textbooks aside. He let out a low cry at the sight of the pentagram drawn in marker on the desk.

“Purple?” Goth Guy sounded almost offended, “Who sets out to summon a demon and decides that purple’s the appropriate color for the occasion?”

Donghyuck bristled. He was still feeling doubtful, but annoyance was starting to settle in alongside his uncertainty.

“Me? Clearly,” he stalked up to the guy, crowding up to him so he’d have to drag his gaze from the mess Donghyuck had made of his desk, “Look, you can’t just barge in here, claiming to be a--.”

“You dragged me in here,” the guy said, his widened eyes flicking up to Donghyuck.

“Semantics,” Donghyuck countered, “How you got here doesn’t matter. You’re here, and it’s time for that to change. I’m kicking you out.”

The guy’s lips parted in shock, exposing the tips of his pointed teeth once more. Now that Donghyuck looked closer, he realized that the guy’s bottom canines were pointed as well. Donghyuck really needed to stop looking at the guy. The longer he did, the more he found that confused him.

“You can’t kick me out. I’m your demon. I’m bound to you.”

“Stop saying that word,” Donghyuck hissed, aggravated. He clenched onto the guy’s leather jacket and tugged him back to the door.

“What? Demon?” the guy asked, stumbling as Donghyuck dragged him to the exit.

Donghyuck let out a strangled noise of frustration. He wrenched the door open, and shoved the guy out. He closed the door in his shocked face. Donghyuck sighed, once the guy was out of sight. He listed forward, exhausted by the wholly unexpected and bizarre interaction.

Resting his forehead up against the cool faux-wood of the door, he pondered if that was the weirdest conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to college. Sure, there was that guy with the pamphlets who shouted things like ‘feminists are witches’, but he thought that maybe Goth Guy took the cake.

He had the ears and teeth, but Donghyuck had to scoff at the ridiculous idea that he was really a demon. For one, demons didn’t exist. For another, even if they did, they wouldn't look like that guy had. Demons were supposed to be horrific, ugly. Goth guy may have had a horrific sense of style, but he definitely wasn’t demonically ugly.

With that thought soothing his unsettled mind, Donghyuck righted himself, and turned.

He froze at what he saw waiting for him, his breath catching in his throat. Goth Guy was standing on their plush dorm rug with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking sheepish.

“‘Sup,” the guy greeted. He had on a small grin. It was lopsided, showing off just one of his pointed teeth.

“Huh,” Donghyuck intoned, “Well. Shit.”

He was starting to entertain the thought that maybe the guy had been telling the truth about himself after all. The teeth, the magically appearing in the middle of Donghyuck’s dorm. The fact that he’d showed up right after the invocation ritual was a bit of a tell, as well. Donghyuck cocked his head to the side, considering him.

He felt an inkling of amusement creep in, overtaking his dread and general confusion. He had a demon at his disposal, apparently-- and not just any demon. A cute demon. The longer Donghyuck thought about it, the closer he came to the conclusion that it was kind of neat.

“Actually,” Donghyuck said, “This might be kind of fun.”

The demon’s nervous smile flickered, his brows drawing together above his eyes.
“Fun?” he repeated, “Donghyuck, I’m not sure you understand what a demon being bound to you means.”

Donghyuck grinned. He swept past the demon, onto his bed, lifting his leg up and crossing it over the other. He looked at the demon attentively, as he perched his hands atop his knee.

“Why don’t you explain it to me, then?”

Donghyuck was cursed. The demon hadn’t said it quite that succinctly. In fact, it seemed like he’d toed around saying it outright and tried to soften the delivery of the news. But it boiled down to the same thing: Donghyuck was cursed for the foreseeable future.

Turns out, you were supposed to have a subject of your invocation in mind as you called upon the demon. Donghyuck had been thinking of nothing beyond the words themselves-- his mind had been almost completely blank. Without a proper channel for demonic energy, it had rebounded on the caster-- Donghyuck himself.

“That’s a bummer,” Donghyuck sighed, plopping his chin onto his palm.

He gazed at the demon. He’d joined Donghyuck on his bed after minutes of Donghyuck pestering him to just make himself comfortable already. He didn’t look comfortable perched atop Donghyuck’s small dorm bed at all, though.

“So are you gonna, like, suck my blood or something?” Donghyuck asked. He wondered if he should be worried about having to wear scarfs when it was barely chilly out yet.

The demon shook his head.

Donghyuck tried to help the smile that rose to his lips, upon seeing the demon’s hair flop about his pointed ears. He couldn’t help it. The knowledge that he’d been cursed hadn’t quite sunk in yet. He was still relishing in the fact that he’d found a cute goth boy with little to no effort on his part.

“I think you’re thinking of vampires?” the demon said, uncertain.

Donghyuck was coming to realize that the demon acted completely at odds with his image. All tentative and shy.

Donghyuck’s smile broadened to a grin, upon coming to that realization. He straightened, tapped the side of his nose, then pointed at the demon. The demon’s eyes widened, nearly crossing as they followed the path Donghyuck’s finger traced.

“I’ve got it. You’ve come to suck out my soul.”

“...I’m pretty sure that’s dementors,” the demon said, after a beat. His gaze was still fixed on Donghyuck’s finger, “You can sell your soul to me, if you’d like. But I can’t suck it out.”

Donghyuck wondered when the demon would realize that Donghyuck was just messing with him. He tried, gamely, to suppress his laughter. The demon was so unexpectedly sincere. Donghyuck’s efforts were futile, though, and a high laugh burst out of him seconds later.

“Oh,” the demon scowled. He reached up and flicked Donghyuck’s finger out from his face. Donghyuck let out another poorly concealed peal of laughter.

“Right. Humans all think they’re comedians,” the demon muttered.

If Donghyuck didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he heard a pout in the demon’s voice. But demons didn’t pout, surely.

“And, no. This curse isn’t going to be like that,” the demon explained. His tone shifted, more brusque. His brows lowered, and he looked as though he was trying awfully hard to remember something, “I’ll be responsible for turning your luck and your opportunities sour. I’ll make it hard for you to succeed at anything you attempt.”

Donghyuck was still grinning, though it’d gone ironic.

“Bad luck and failing everything? Sounds like the life of the average college student anyways, with or without a curse.”

The demon’s shoulders slumped.

“Donghyuck, you shouldn’t take bad luck lightly,” he said, grave.

Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel he’d disappointed him by taking the news of the conditions of his curse in stride. He shrugged at the demon, apologetic, but not willing to act scared about a supposed curse that really didn’t sound so bad.

The demon opened his mouth but, before he could say a thing, the sound of the lock rattling cut him off.

Jeno. Donghyuck realized, with a jolt, that time had passed quicker than he’d thought as he’d talked with the demon. Hours had seemed like minutes, and Jeno’s last class was long over.

“Shit,” Donghyuck hissed. He wondered if this was the beginning of his bad luck, or if that was yet to come.

It was already bad enough that Donghyuck hadn’t had a chance to clean up the signs of the invocation ritual. One look at the demon, with his pointed ears and teeth, and Jeno would know what Donghyuck had gotten up to in the time he was away.

Oh, he wouldn’t exactly know. But he’d figure out Donghyuck had definitely gotten up to something suspect. And then Jeno would sigh, and he’d look at Donghyuck with disappointment. Donghyuck couldn’t bear that.

“He can’t see you!” Donghyuck was panicking, feeling almost as nervous as he’d felt when the demon had first appeared.

The demon blinked at him, unhelpfully, his lips still parted. As the door clicked open, and Jeno’s sneakers squeaked against the tile floor, Donghyuck surged forward. He clamped his hands over the demon’s ears, covering them.

Jeno’s sneakers stopped squeaking. The door clicked shut, the sound loud in the subsequent silence of the room. Donghyuck winced. He turned to look over his shoulder. Jeno was staring at he and the demon. They probably painted an odd picture, sitting together on Donghyuck’s bed, Donghyuck’s hands stuck to the demon’s ears.

Donghyuck chanced a glance at the demon, before looking back to Jeno. The demon had a dumbstruck look on his face, and his eyes were trained on Donghyuck.

“Hyuck, you should’ve told me you had someone over,” Jeno said, finally, breaking the silence, “Sorry, guys. Let me just pick up a few things and I’ll be on my way”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, conflicted. It was good that Jeno was leaving, but the fact that he’d come to that conclusion regarding he and the demon was unfortunate. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh,” Jeno said, pausing with his backpack zipped open. He slung it off, then stalked quickly over to Donghyuck’s bed, extending his hand, “I’m Jeno, by the way. Donghyuck’s roommate. Nice to meet you.”

Donghyuck’s nerves spiked. Surely, he thought, they were doomed. The demon was going to introduce himself. He’d call himself Lucifer, or Alistair. Satan was a likely option, too. Then Jeno would see his teeth and Donghyuck’s hand would slip off from the demon’s pointed ears, and the secret would be out.

Donghyuck gulped around the sudden lump in his throat, as the demon’s eyes flicked down to Jeno’s hand. He reached out, and grasped it. Distantly, Donghyuck noted that his nails were neatly painted black, matching the rest of his ensemble.

“Mark,” the demon said. Donghyuck barely concealed his choke of surprise, “I’m Donghyuck’s d--.”

“Date!” Donghyuck blurted out.

His mind was reeling from the revelation that his demon was named Mark . There were probably fifteen guys in his chemistry lecture alone named Mark. Quieter, more subdued with both Mark’s and Jeno’s eyes on him, Donghyuck added, “Mark’s my date. Obviously.”

Heat started to rise to his cheeks. Donghyuck wanted nothing more than not to blush at that moment, but the demon-- Mark-- was looking at him with such curiosity. Donghyuck’s hands were on his ears, and his hair was soft beneath Donghyuck’s fingers.

So he couldn’t will the blush down, and he knew without a doubt that his face was likely flushed a bright pink.

“Okay,” Jeno said, eventually, drawing out the final syllable of the word.

He glanced at Donghyuck, his eyes flicking briefly to Donghyuck’s hands on Mark’s ears. Donghyuck blanked. He cast about for suitable explanation for why he’d kept his hands there from the start.

“Mark’s ears are just… the cutest,” Donghyuck said, weak. He patted them. Once, twice, his face burning by that point, “So cute. Can’t stop touching them.”

“Okay,” Jeno repeated, in the same tone.

Mark was staring at Donghyuck as if he had a screw loose. Though Donghyuck wasn’t ready to be judged so harshly by a demon of all things, he wasn’t sure he completely disagreed.

“I’m gonna go now,” Jeno said, haltingly, as he backed up.

Donghyuck squeezed his eyes shut, let out a tight sigh. His fingers were stiff on the sides of Mark’s head. During the whole minefield of conversation with Jeno they’d probably gone clammy, but he was almost beyond caring.

“Alright. I’ll text you when we head out,” Donghyuck said.

He waited until the dorm door had closed before he opened his eyes. The first thing he did was draw his hands off Mark’s ears and into his lap. Donghyuck noted something that made him wonder if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The pointed tips of Mark’s ears were flushed a dusty red.

Donghyuck shook his head at himself. Of course they were flushed. Donghyuck’s hands had probably warmed them up.

“Sorry,” he said, sincerely. He regretted everything Mark had been forced to witness and experience just then, “I’m kinda gonna blame you for that one though. Jeno walking in? Me blanking out and not thinking of a decent explanation? Shit luck, for sure.”

Mark blinked at him. After a moment, he seemed to comprehend what Donghyuck had saying. He let out a sharp sigh.

He reached up and rearranged his mussed hair about the tips of his ears. When he’d finished, it ended up concealing the most flushed parts from view. Donghyuck felt the loss for it. He hadn’t been lying to Jeno about at least one thing, he realized. Mark’s ears were cute.

“See?” Mark sighed, “I don’t even have to intentionally do anything. I just have to be present for the curse to mess up your life.”

Donghyuck didn’t really know how to react to that. Not that Mark’s mere presence made his luck turn bad, but the fact that Mark didn’t seem to want to be carrying out the curse in the first place. His brows were drawn together, and the corners of his lips were tugged down in a frown.

“You’re kind of a bad demon,” Donghyuck mused, “you don’t even seem happy that your curse is working.”

Mark’s shoulders inched higher, and he cast his gaze down. His eyes fell to Donghyuck’s hands, folded neatly on his lap.

“It’s your curse,” he said, after a beat of uneasy silence, “I’m just carrying it out.”

Donghyuck fell back onto his old standby when words and thoughts failed him: good, old fashioned false confidence, “Well. My life’s not messed up. Jeno’s just going to have a little more fodder for teasing me but, other than that, I’m swell.”

“You say that now,” Mark said, his frown deepening. He looked back up, his eyes imploring, “Most people would start looking for a way to break their curse right about now.”

Donghyuck grinned, despite himself. He wondered if Mark’s eyes always looked that bright, if their luster was some demonic thing, or if it was just… Mark.

“Why would I do that when I’m having so much fun?”

The worst part was that Donghyuck was having fun. His face was still burning, and Mark’s prolonged eye contact made him feel prickly all over, but he knew one thing: he didn’t want to break the curse just yet. He didn’t want this to end when it’d only just begun.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck discovered that when Mark said he was bound to Donghyuck, he meant it.

Mark said he’d try to give Donghyuck space, at least for the evening and night. Ostensibly, it was so Donghyuck could work on his homework and sleep in peace, without something going wrong. Donghyuck’s first thought was that Mark was far more thoughtful than he would’ve expected a demon to be, but he didn’t voice that aloud.

Instead, he scoffed and pointed out that that kind of undermined the purpose of the curse, didn’t it? He asked Mark outright why he sounded so unsure if he was capable of parting from Donghyuck. Mark had gotten aggravated then, his answers terse.

“Look, I am kinda new at this, but I think we’d both appreciate a little bit of space from time to time, right?” Mark had responded.

To which Donghyuck had laughed and replied, sweetly, “Speak for yourself, Mark. I know I’ll miss you every second you’re gone.”

Mark’s face had gone slack, blank. It lasted a moment, then the frustrated look had returned. He’d gritted his teeth, displaying a couple of fangs, as Donghyuck continued to grin. Donghyuck had waved Mark off as he departed from Donghyuck’s dorm, muttering under his breath.

Mark’s idea of testing the limits of their bonding had even worked, for a fair few hours. Donghyuck sat down and finished his homework in what felt like record time. He even managed to fit in an hour or so of studying. He never studied, not even with only a couple weeks to go until his finals.

He didn’t know why he felt so motivated all of a sudden. He only knew that the sooner he finished his work, the sooner he could go to sleep, the sooner he could wake and bother Mark once more.

Donghyuck took it as a special point of pride that he had the ability to get under a demon’s skin. The small voice in the back of his mind pointed out that it helped that Mark always seemed to don the same dumbstruck look whenever Donghyuck did something unexpected or caught him off guard. Donghyuck kind of needed to see that look again.

It was with that idea in mind that Donghyuck fell asleep, crafting ways to catch Mark off guard once more. He probably should have been concerned about the whole curse thing, but he wasn’t. Not in the slightest.

Donghyuck woke hours later, in the middle of the night.

Feeling sluggish, his mind bleary, it took him long seconds to piece together the sudden presence in his bed with his unexpected waking. Though the dorm still smelled of tropical christmas for the most part, Donghyuck was picking up something new. He sniffed. The air smelled like a struck match, right at the moment when it first began to burn. Metallic, explosive, fiery.

Donghyuck’s lips curled up into an automatic smile, as his eyes focused and he saw Mark’s sleeping face right in front of his. The moonlight streaming in through the dorm window cast the angles of Mark’s face in sharp relief. It lit on the thin skin at the very tip of his ear, turning it blue and translucent.

Donghyuck had to assume that, sometime in between the moment he’d fallen asleep and the moment he’d awoken, Mark had appeared in Donghyuck’s dorm bed, just like he’d appeared into Donghyuck’s dorm earlier. Though he was asleep, this time. Donghyuck couldn’t guess whether Mark was even aware where he was sleeping.

He was still wearing his eye makeup, even in sleep. It was an odd thing to notice, Donghyuck supposed. His thoughts drifted, as he wondered if that was a demon thing, if their makeup was a permanent thing on their face. He came upon the more likely scenario, that it was just a Mark thing, that he’d forgotten to take it off before bed.

Donghyuck lifted his hand, planning to poke Mark’s cheek until he woke. Then another, better idea struck him. He pressed his lips together, holding back the laugh that was threatening to come out of him. Donghyuck reached forward under the covers He glanced down, as he caught Mark’s hand. He lifted their intertwined hands up, watching Mark’s face for signs that he’d started to wake.

Donghyuck waited a bare, breathless moment. Nothing happened. Mark’s shoulders continued to rise and fall, slow. Jeno’s snores continued to pervade the background, soft and subtle. Donghyuck frowned, glancing down at their linked hands. That plan hadn’t worked.

He released Mark’s hand, feeling ridiculous all of a sudden. Holding a demon’s hand, what had he been thinking? Mark let out a soft sound. It might have been a word, short, murmured too low for Donghyuck to catch it.

It was Donghyuck’s turn to let out an incoherent sound as Mark’s hand suddenly twisted in his pajama shirt. Mark tugged him forward, without any warning. Donghyuck’s eyes widened as he was helpless but to follow the pull, falling into Mark’s chest.

Donghyuck couldn’t help the shocked, “Oh,” that escaped him, as Mark pulled them flush together. He looked up, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Mark was still asleep. But he was frowning, in sleep. His breathing was changing. It was quickening, going shallower. Donghyuck was shocked to realize he’d discovered that shift based only on feeling Mark’s chest rise and fall beneath his head.

“Wha...?” Mark mumbled, a half formed word.

Donghyuck’s heartbeat stuttered, as Mark’s lashes fluttered open.

Donghyuck reached for something clever to say. Something charming, befitting the situation. Just his luck, all he could remember was Mark’s word from earlier, from when he had appeared in Donghyuck’s dorm the first time.

“‘Sup?” Donghyuck greeted.

Mark yelped. His eyes snapped open, wide. Simultaneously, he scrambled as far back as the thin width of Donghyuck’s twin bed would allow and pushed Donghyuck away from him. He wasn’t finished with his dramatics, there.

Mark put as much distance between Donghyuck and him as the bed would allow, going all the way to the end.

“I-- what-- you?” Mark said, “Gah.”

Donghyuck had to figure he was incapable of forming anything beyond single syllables.

Donghyuck pushed himself up onto his elbow, blearily pawing at his sore ear. Mark had yelped right into it. He supposed that confirmed what he’d already suspected. Mark had no idea he’d appeared in Donghyuck’s dorm in the middle of the night, in Donghyuck’s bed no less.

“Ow,” Donghyuck sighed.

“We-- when did--,” Mark seemed to forcibly make himself quiet.

He clamped his mouth shut, stemming his incoherent babbling. Donghyuck understood that Mark had just woken in an unfamiliar place, but he’d really thought demons were supposed to be more comfortable when it came to these kinds of things than Mark seemed to be.

“I think your distance plan might’ve had a flaw,” Donghyuck muttered. If Mark hadn’t been responsible for his sudden appearance in Donghyuck’s bed, some other supernatural force had to be.

“Whaz goin’ on?” came a slurred voice from Jeno’s side of the dorm.

Donghyuck and Mark turned, as one, to Jeno. He’d risen halfway up from his bed, and was squinting Donghyuck’s way. Mark let out a low sound, eerily similar to a sheep’s bleat. Donghyuck sighed. Of course Jeno had woken up in the middle of it. Just Donghyuck’s luck.

“You’re dreaming,” Donghyuck said, soothing, “This is all a dream. Go back to sleep, Jeno.”

“Yeah,” Jeno blinked, nodding slowly, “A dream. Okay. ‘Night, Hyuck,” he smacked his lips, closed his eyes, and lowered his head back down to his pillow, “‘Night, Hyuck’s date.”

“Demon,” Mark corrected, in a faint whisper, “I’m Donghyuck’s demon.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

“And apparently being bound to me means you’re not allowed to leave my side,” he whispered. He inched closer to Mark so their voices wouldn’t have to carry as far, and they wouldn’t risk waking Jeno once more.

“Apparently,” Mark looked around them. His eyes narrowed, in suspicion, as though it was the dorm’s fault he kept reappearing in it.

Donghyuck smiled and suggested, “You know… you could just stay here, at least for tonight.”

It was the logical solution for their problem and yet, Donghyuck was felt a flutter of nerves within him at proposing it. He was filled with an undue sense of relief when Mark nodded, hesitant, in agreement.

“Alright,” Mark spoke, matching Donghyuck’s careful whisper, “We should really try and figure this out soon though. I think your bed’s gonna be kinda cramped with the two of us on it.”

“Who said anything about us sharing the bed?” Donghyuck said, just to see Mark’s reaction.

He wasn’t disappointed. Mark’s face, already lightly flushed, turned a deeper shade of red. His blush was visible in the faint moonlight that streamed in through the window, just barely reaching where Mark was huddled up in the far corner of Donghyuck’s bed. The flush spread across his cheeks, to the tips of his ears.

“I guess I just assumed…” Mark started, scattered, uncertain. Donghyuck took pity on him, and cut his blustering short.

“I’m joking, Mark,” Donghyuck’s smile widened, “I’m not making you sleep on the floor.”

He extended his hand the reach out and pat the space by his side on the bed. Mark was right. There wasn’t a lot of room there, at all. But if Mark didn’t mind, Donghyuck certainly didn’t either.

Mark eyed the spot. He sucked in his lower lip between his teeth, the glint of the moonlight off his fangs stood out in the dark of the room. After a beat, Mark toed off his boots. He dropped them on the ground by the Donghyuck’s bed, barely quietly enough to avoid disturbing Jeno. Mark slipped off his jacket, hung it on the bedpost, then crawled up by Donghyuck.

It was a little surreal, Donghyuck realized, after he’d begun to wonder how he’d managed to watch that whole display without a single quip or comment. He was already getting domestic with his demon.

“Excuse me,” Mark said, as he slipped under the covers. It sounded a little strained.

Donghyuck opened his mouth. He wanted to say something to fix the suddenly awkward atmosphere that had settled between them. But he couldn’t think of anything. His mind was faint, fuzzy like static on an old television set tuned to a dead channel.

He watched, as Mark plucked up Donghyuck’s spare pillow and settled it between their bodies. In one swift motion, Mark had done away with any spare space left on the bed, resigning himself to being shunted against the wall, without a pillow to rest his head on.

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow.

“Scared of my human cooties or something?” he asked, as he began moving up and lowering his head back down to his pillow.

He laid down facing Mark. The pillow wall between them nearly reached up to his chin. He peered right over it, unabashedly unafraid of Mark’s proximity. It wasn’t like Donghyuck cared about sharing a bed with another guy, not like Mark seemed to care.

“Yeah,” Mark muttered. Donghyuck could see that both of his cheeks were still flushed, deep, “You guys are gross. Covered in human germs and human dirt and--.”

“Just say cooties,” Donghyuck smiled, “it’s quicker.”

Curiously, his heart was picking up pace. Donghyuck could feel it beating faster in his chest. By all rights it should have been slowing, as he neared sleep again.

“Fine,” Mark hissed, “Cooties. Keep your cooties away. Don’t try and do what you did earlier again, alright? I’m a demon. I don’t… I don’t cuddle.”

With that, Mark flopped over. As he turned around to face the wall, he pulled Donghyuck’s blanket tight over his hunched shoulders. Donghyuck eyed the tense line of them, amused.

“But you’re the one who tried to cuddle me,” Donghyuck pointed out.

He put down the quick beat of his heart to how happy he was at succeeding in getting Mark to say both cuddle and cooties. That made sense, right?

Mark didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t have to. His shoulders jumped even higher, nearly reaching his ears. Donghyuck laughed, soft, before turning back around.

He fell asleep grinning. Though he was cramped, confined to one small portion of his bed, his thoughts were budding, blooming, and full of the demon on the other side.

⛤

Donghyuck discovered several new things about Mark in the span of just a quarter of an hour the next morning. The first was that demons didn’t have magic goth eye makeup. Mark had come back from the dormitory’s communal shower damp haired and bare faced, looking like an entirely new person. Without the harsh eyeliner, Mark could easily pass for just another college student, just another guy living in the dorm. Save for the ears and fangs, of course.

Mark assured Donghyuck that he’d taken care not to be noticed by anyone else in the bathroom, though. Then, Mark had asked Donghyuck if he had any eyeliner Mark could borrow. That was when Donghyuck discovered something else. Apparently, sometime between the summoning and nightfall that day prior, Mark had been locked out of Hell. He’d been cut off from all his possessions, stuck in the realm of the living.

“Locked out of hell?” Donghyuck asked, as he watched Mark fill in a dark kohl line above his lashes, entranced.

“Yeah,” Mark muttered, “I tried to get back after we separated yesterday and I couldn’t. I think it’s something about being bound together. Maybe I’m bound to this realm too?”

Donghyuck hummed, only half listening. Mark’s wet hair was still dripping. Donghyuck’s eyes were tracking one drop in particular. He followed it as it traced a wet path down Mark’s neck, falling lower and lower as gravity tugged it down. Donghyuck watched, as it dipped over Mark’s collarbone, nearing the neckline of his shirt.

“The annoying thing is that I didn’t this would happen. A little warning would have been nice,” Mark’s hand stilled. He frowned at his reflection, “I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to my friends.”

Mark winced, suddenly. He lowered his hand, and the pencil with it. He looked to Donghyuck, sheepish, as though he hadn’t meant to let that last part slip. Donghyuck blinked, shaken out of his reverie.

“That’s kinda cute,” Donghyuck blurted out, unthinking. Mark’s brows drew together, and Donghyck rushed to elaborate. He needed to make sure Mark knew that he wasn’t calling his annoyance cute, “Sorry. I just... It’s nice that even demons have friends. I’m picturing you and all your little goth buddies hanging out and swapping curse stories over pizza, or whatever junk food you guys get in Hell. In-N-Out, maybe.”

Mark’s brow smoothed out. His expression shifted, from confusion to something less discernible. The corner of his lips quirked up. Donghyuck had to take care not to react, though his stomach felt as thought it’d just flipped. He wasn’t used to Mark smiling at him.

Mark turned back to look in the mirror.

“That’s not far off from the truth, actually,” Mark said, his voice lighter.

He leaned in over the bathroom sink and started lining his other eye, the lopsided smile still on his face. Donghyuck felt a surge of warmth fill him, emanating out from his chest.

He pushed off from the bathroom wall, strolled around to hover behind Mark in the mirror.

“Speaking of goths,” Donghyuck began, “If you want to borrow some of my clothes, I’m sure I can find something in a suitable shade of black for you.”

Mark sighed, but the smile remained on his face, “Thanks.”

“And I’m sure I have a beanie to cover those ears up,” Donghyuck added and, because he couldn’t resist, Donghyuck reached forward and pinched the tip of Mark’s ear.

The effect was instantaneous. Mark let out a sharp exhale, freezing with the pencil still lifted. His eyes slid over in the reflection of the mirror, until they met Donghyuck’s.

“Donghyuck,” Mark said. Donghyuck didn’t know if it was meant to sound intimidating, like a warning. To him, it sounded more like a whine.

Donghyuck laughed and relented. He let go of Mark’s ear, but not before giving it a playful tug.

“They really are cute, okay?”

Mark objected to that, of course. He subjected Donghyuck to a few pointed reminders that he was a demon, and demons weren’t cute. Donghyuck nodded indulgently, but he thought that Mark wasn’t fooling anyone. Donghyuck had eyes, after all.

After Mark had finished with his eyeliner, Donghyuck dragged him back the dorm room. The first thing he did was dig a beanie out of the depths of his sock drawer and tug it over Mark’s ears, just in case Jeno woke. Next, Donghyuck dug around his dresser and closet until he found a pair of black skinny jeans. They were ripped, well worn, faded to gray.

He recalled that he used to wear them all the time at the beginning of the semester. That was back when he gave a bit of a shit how he looked. He missed those times, he thought, forlornly. He glanced down at his own outfit-- thrifted green track pants and a polo shirt he’d taken from his parents’ closet back home. Donghyuck sighed, then tossed the jeans to Mark. At least one of them would look nice.

“I’m not sure if these will fit me,” Mark frowned, as he held them up to his legs.

Donghyuck paused. He took a moment to consider the jeans against Mark, before deciding he might have had a point, then deciding to do absolutely nothing about it. Donghyuck hummed, and turned back around.

“You know, I think I’ve got a black shirt somewhere in here for you.”

They set out together, fifteen minutes later. Before even considering going to his classes, Donghyuck headed for the campus cafe for his morning cup of coffee.

He’d forced Mark to leave his leather jacket behind in the dorm. Donghyuck had claimed it was too warm out, and that Mark would just be overheated in the jacket. In reality, he’d only asked for the sake of his own sanity. He didn’t know how well he’d fare, seeing Mark wearing the jacket over his borrowed clothes.

Though Donghyuck’s day had begun well enough, it only took until they reached the cafe for his luck to run out.

It was only eight in the morning, but the line at the cafe was already stretched out the door. Donghyuk had tried, with cheer, to say that the line seemed to be moving pretty quick. Mark had shoved his hands in his pockets, raised his brow, but said nothing.

As they waited, it neared closer and closer to the time when Donghyuck ought to have been headed off to his morning lecture. Donghyuck’s cheer faded, and Mark’s expression grew more and more sheepish.

Donghyuck checked the time on his phone. He took one last glance at the line that still stretched in front of him, and proclaimed, “Guess it’s a no-caffeine morning, then!”

Without another moment wasted, he reached and seized Mark’s hand. Then Donghyuck turned on his heel, and starting off towards the lecture hall.

Donghyuck had pushed it on time. He’d probably be late and miss the morning attendance check question his professor always did.

“This is exactly why you should be worried about breaking the curse,” Mark muttered, once Donghyuk admitted they’d probably be late. Mark slipped his hand from Donghyuck’s, “It’s only going to get worse from here.”

Donghyuck shot him a look, careful not to stumble as he quickened his pace to a near jog.

“Do they give all demons drama lessons, or was it just you?” Donghyuck offered Mark a tight smile, “Everyone’s a little late to class at least a dozen times a semester. I’ll be fine.”

“You say that now,” Mark sighed. It would’ve sounded ironic, if his face wasn’t completely sincere, if his eyes weren’t widened, in an expression almost approaching concerned.

Donghyuck turned away from him, frowning. That was ridiculous. He had to be seeing things. Mark wasn’t concerned.

“There you go again with the ominous warnings,” Donghyuck wondered if he should be a little more worried than he was, if his demon was looking at him the way Mark was.

They ducked into a tunnel, and Donghyuck came upon an idea.

“Mark,” he stopped. The echoes of he and Mark’s footsteps in the tunnel ceased as Mark stopped too. He looked at Donghyuck, the tip of his fang just barely visible as he bit his lip.

“Why don’t you just, like, magic me across campus?” Donghyuck asked, figuring it couldn’t hurt.

Mark blinked.

“I could try,” he said, slow, “Where’s your class?”

Donghyuck grinned, already feeling his mood lift. He relayed the name of the lecture hall. After nodding in acknowledgement, Mark hesitated, for a long stretch. Donghyuck almost asked him if something was wrong. Just when he’d been about to, Mark surged forward and grasped Donghyuck’s hand.

Donghyuck’s let out a gasp that went unheard under the sound of the indiscernible words Mark was chanting. His eyes were closed tight, his brows drawn low over them. It seemed as if the shadows themselves shifted, casting his features in shade.

Donghyuck watched, enraptured, as Mark spoke foreign words in an unfamiliar tongue.

Then Mark was gone. He’d vanished, leaving Donghyuck alone in the tunnel, his hand outstretched and empty, his heart thudding in his chest. He let out a measured breath, and exhaled the air still trapped in his lungs, willing his heart to slow.

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” came a voice, perplexed, directly behind Donghyuck. Donghyuck released an embarrassing high pitched gasp as he spun to face the source of the voice. Mark’s eyes widened and he froze. His hands were raised. It appeared he was in the midst of adjusting his beanie atop his head when Donghyuck had spun.

“Sorry,” Mark said, in a rush, “I didn’t mean to-- I mean.”

Donghyuck had to smile, though his heart was still racing from the unexpected shock. He had the feeling that demons weren’t supposed to be this apologetic when it came to inadvertently scaring people.

Mark had cut himself off. He still looked almost guilty. And, though he’d tried to fix it, his beanie was still lopsided from his magical disappearance and reappearance. The corner of one of his ears was poking out from beneath it.

Donghyuck shook his head. He reached forward and set it right, smoothing out the fabric after pulling it carefully over Mark’s ears, concealing them. Mark blinked at him. His eyes followed Donghyuck as Donghyuck lowered himself back onto his heels.

Donghyuck had done it again, he realized, as a surge of satisfied warmth filled him. He’d gone and done something unexpected, and taken Mark off guard. He wondered if he could think of something to say, to make that stunned look last just moments longer on Mark’s face. He wondered what he could do, before they had to get going and head off to--.

“The lecture!” Donghyuck gasped, suddenly recalling why Mark had to use his magic in the first place.

Donghyuck spun on his heel, and took off in a dash.

“Get your cute demonic ass in gear!” he shouted, glancing over his shoulder.

Mark was standing still in the same position he’d been in when Donghyuck had fixed his beanie for him. Mark seemed to shake himself out of his reverie at Donghyuck’s shout, though. By the time Donghyuck had reached the end of the tunnel, he’d caught up to him.

Donghyuck was late to his lecture. Incredibly so. But he couldn’t find it within him to care, not when he managed to convince Mark to join him inside the lecture hall. Every so often, he’d look up from his notes just to appreciate the vague, dazed look on Mark’s face. His eyes were unfocused, as he tracked the professor’s pointer, criss-crossing on the screen projected up high in the lecture hall.

Donghyuck had to suppress his laughter at how overwhelmed Mark looked.

The instant they walked out from the hall, as they were pushed along by the stream of outpouring students, Donghyuck turned to him. Mark was holding fast to his beanie, his teeth gritted as they were pushed along in the crowd.

“What are you-- one hundred years old? Two hundred? A thousand? And you’ve never tried out higher education before now?”

Mark jolted. He glanced around them, at the students walking by them. Donghyuck grinned, soft, upon seeing the concern in Mark had about being caught. He tried to assuage those fears.

He tapped his ear to indicate to Mark that most, if not all, of the students around them were probably blasting music through their headphones already. They didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing them.

Mark let out a soft sound of comprehension.

“I’m ninety-nine,” he said, “And no. It’s kinda hard to apply for student loans when your permanent residence is Hell.”

Donghyuck laughed, more out of reflex than anything. The words ninety-nine rebounded in his mind, not quite sinking in.

Donghyuck surveyed Mark carefully, as he took a turn onto a different path than he normally would, after his morning lecture. Instead of heading toward the library, as he would’ve done if he was alone, he made his way to the campus quad. It was prettier, he reasoned. And louder. He’d be better able to bother Mark there. Mark, who was ninety-nine.

Mark was nearly a hundred years old, Donghyuck thought, though he didn’t look a day over twenty. Or act it. Donghyuck should have probably felt more shocked than he did. All he could think of, though, was the endless teasing he’d subjected Jaemin to when Jaemin went out with that senior for a couple weeks. Donghyuck mentally added Jaemin to the list of those who could never find out the truth about Mark. He’d never live it down.

The age gap between eighteen and ninety-nine was a hell of a lot bigger than the age gap between eighteen and twenty-two, Donghyuck thought. He was feeling mildly dazed, overwhelmed. He was suddenly sympathetic for how Mark must have felt in the middle of that lecture.

Mark looked at him, his brows raised, his eyes wide and curious. It was then that Donghyuck realized he’d gone completely quiet, lost in thought.

“God, you’re ancient,” Donghyuck blurted out, only to regret it immediately after.

Mark flinched. He reached up, scratched the back of his neck, and sighed.

“Yeah. I guess I am, to you,” Mark glanced away, “I’m kinda young when it comes to demons, though.”

Donghyuck couldn’t mistake the ruddy tint blooming across the crests of Mark’s cheeks, not in the bright morning sun. He was blushing. Donghyuck wondered if he’d made Mark self conscious. He wondered why Mark would even be bothered by what Donghyuck had said.

“Young?” he asked, careful, probing. Mark glanced back at him andnodded.

“My, uh. My mentor, I guess you’d call him-- he’s about two thousand years old, give or take a couple decades.”

Donghyuck stumbled, as he stepped. And he’d called ninety-nine ancient. He smiled.

“You’re a baby demon,” Donghyuck cooed, reaching for Mark’s ear, to tug it.

Mark let out a sound as he ducked away from Donghyuck’s reach. In his efforts to evade Donghyuck, Mark accidentally bumped into a student who was walking by them. Donghyuck laughed, as Mark blurted out an apology only to receive a death glare in response. By the time Mark turned back to Donghyuck, he looked bewildered all over again.

Donghyuck wondered if Mark was the youngest demon around. He could kind of see it, now. Once Donghyuck thought about it, Mark did seem to have a total lack of experience with curses and just… being a demon, in general. Mark didn’t even seem to know the limits of his own powers.

As they reached the grassy area of the quad, Donghyuck pulled up to a stop and lowered himself to the ground. He watched as Mark followed his lead, tugging on the skinny jeans Donghyuck had given him as he sat.

“Mark,” Donghyuck began, unable to quash his curiosity.

He waited until Mark looked at him. Donghyuck didn’t know if it was just his imagination, but Mark’s kohl-rimmed eyes seemed warmer, less distant. Maybe it had to do with the new knowledge that Mark wasn’t some sort of untouchable spirit who’d been around since the beginning of time, that he was actually born a century prior.

“Is this the first time you’ve ever been summoned?” Donghyuck asked. He was careful to keep his voice sincere. He didn’t want Mark to think he was teasing him. Not about this.

Mark was quiet, in the wake of Donghyuck’s question. He leaned back, onto the heels of his hands. His eyes slid past Donghyuck, to something beyond him.

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“No!” Donghyuck protested immediately. Unconvincingly too, if the wry grin Mark gave him was anything to go by.

“Okay. Maybe a little,” Donghyuck relented, “I think you’re doing a great job so far, though.”

Mark shook his head, but his grin was broadening.

“All I’ve done is make your roommate think we’re dating and make you late for class.”

And, Donghyuck thought, he wasn’t really upset about either of those. He shrugged, though, and smiled back at Mark.

“It’s like you said. The curse is just getting started, right?”

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently. The easy grin slipped from Mark’s face. His eyes fell from Donghyuck to the grass beneath them.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

Once again, Donghyuck suspected Mark was being overdramatic. He got to his next lecture on time. He probably didn’t ace the in-class quiz. In fact, he suspected he’d studied entirely the wrong material, because none of the questions made the slightest bit of sense.

But Donghyuck managed to corral his friends together for dinner after all their classes had finished. Sure, the food wasn’t great. It was just whatever they could afford with their skimpy budget from the campus cafeteria. But Donghyuck finally got to meet up with them outside of the weekends. He considered himself lucky, for that alone.

It was unfortunate that the first thing out of Jaemin’s mouth upon sitting down with his at their table was: “Hyuck, why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Jaemin pouted. He slumped his chin onto his hand, “I would’ve stopped hitting on you if I’d known.”

“That’s a bold claim,” Renjun muttered. He was picking over his salad, his expression impassive. Jaemin snorted, harder than Renjun’s comment should have warranted.

Mark spluttered. Donghyuck gave him a quick look. He wasn’t sure if Mark was about to start in on another tirade about being a demon, and not dating because dating wasn’t what demons did, or something.

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Mark choked out, instead, and Donghyuck let out a small sigh of relief. He grinned, and waved his hand through the air.

“We’re not labelling our relationship right now,” Donghyuck covered.

Mark’s eyebrows shot up. He gave Donghyuck a look. Donghyuck stared back, still smiling, trying to convey with his eyes alone that Mark ought to play along, at least for now. Pretending to be dating would make asking Jeno if Mark could stay in their dorm a bit easier. It would also be a convenient explanation for why Mark was suddenly, permanently stuck to Donghyuck’s side.

Mark seemed to get the message. His nostrils flared, and his brows furrowed. Donghyuck’s smile grew a bit wider, a bit more strained, as he waited for Mark’s decision. Finally, after a split second that seemed like an hour, Mark sighed, his shoulders slumping minutely.

“Yeah. We talked and agreed it’s too early for that,” Mark said, rote, speaking as tonelessly as if he was reading from a prompter.

Still, Donghyuck couldn’t stop himself from beaming at him. Mark’s cheeks had colored, gone slightly red, and the barest bottom corner of his ear, just visible under his beanie, was also flushed. Donghyuck simply couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and reached out to clasp Mark’s ear. He felt a thrill of accomplishment, that Mark didn’t duck away this time.

“Donghyuck,” Mark sighed. He raised his hand. With it, he caught Donghyuck’s and drew it down to the table.

“Oh,” Donghyuck glanced down at their interlocked hands before laughing, light, “Not in public?”

Mark nodded, his mouth twisted. Donghyuck felt like laughing again. Mark looked as though he was about to face a firing squad and was trying to be brave about it.

“Right,” Mark said, “Not in public.”

Mark released Donghyuck’s hand before drawing his hands back into his lap. Donghyuck realized that he’d felt calluses on Mark’s hand. His palm had felt rough, work-hardened. He wondered how that added up, with Mark being a demon. He wondered what Mark could have done to earn those calluses.

“Wow. I feel like I haven’t seen you around before, Mark,” Jeno said, reminding Donghyuck that there were other people at the table, “How’d you guys meet?”

Donghyuck’s mind blanked. He could only hope that whatever he came up with would be believable, because he couldn’t exactly tell the truth.

“At a party,” he blurted out, at the same moment Mark said, “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Renjun’s face snapped up. He flick his sharp, shrewd gaze from Donghyuck to Mark. Donghyuck glanced to Mark, looking for help, finding only that he looked panicked. His eyes were wide, his lips parted.

“I mean. We’ve known each since we were kids, but we kinda grew apart for a bit. Then we met again at a party the other day and we just...” Donghyuck babbled something vaguely believable, before his brief spurt of inspiration ran out and he trailed off.

“We clicked,” Mark cut in, when Donghyuck’s doubt had crept up and closed off his throat. Mark nodded at him, solid. Donghyuck felt his anxiety abate.

“Turns out those crushes we used to have on each other never quite faded away,” Mark said, and Donghyuck was taken aback.

Mark had even managed to inject something wistful in his voice, something warm. That emotion in his voice, coupled with the way he was staring at Donghyuck-- intently, was the only way to describe it-- it would have looked to any outsider as though Mark really did have a crush on Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s heart thudded. It felt heavy, suddenly, in his chest.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck exhaled, after he’d reminded himself to hold up his end of the deception, “exactly.”

Mark gave him a tight smile, before directing his gaze back down at the table.

“Huh,” Jaemin said, low, “That’s nice.”

Donghyuck tore his eyes from Mark to look at Jaemin. There was a note of something odd in Jaemin’s voice. Donghyuck’s smile was tested, as he caught Jaemin sneak a not-so-covert glance at Renjun. At least Renjun was none the wiser. His gaze was still discerning, sharp, and trained firmly on Mark.

“Your teeth are weird. Are they real?” Renjun asked, suddenly.

Donghyuck tried not to react. Mark inhaled, sharp. Donghyuck hoped he was the only one who had caught that.

“Renjun, did you seriously just ask if Mark’s teeth are real?” Donghyuck replied, even, “I think I would’ve noticed by now if he had fake teeth.”

Jeno burst into laughter, and Jaemin joined in. Renjun stumbled through a vague defensive response, and everything was soothed, at least for a moment.

“I don’t get why we have to be dating,” Mark sighed.

It was hours later. They’d tried, once more, to separate for the night. Privately, Donghyuck wasn’t sure where Mark planned to spend his night, if Hell, his home, was closed to him. He never worked up the courage to ask Mark before he left, though.

It had been futile, again. In between the moment Donghyuck’s head hit his pillow and the moment he’d been awoken by the movement of someone shifting in bed beside him, Mark had once again appeared at his side.

As tempted as he’d been to try holding Mark’s hand again, Donghyuck had controlled himself and simply poked him until he’d awoken. He’d smiled, as Mark let out a rattling gasp and bolted upright, upon waking to see Donghyuck’s face so near to his.

It was easier, the second night.

Mark hadn’t grumbled nearly as much before toeing off his boots, flinging off his borrowed beanie, and lying beside Donghyuck underneath the covers. Instead of turning away, though, he’d stayed facing Donghyuck, and voiced his uncertainty about their situation.

“Why couldn’t you have just said we were friends or something?” Mark continued.

Under any other circumstance, Donghyuck would have cracked a joke. But in the dead of night, with the soft shadows on Mark’s face, Donghyuck felt his heart sink.

It bothered him, he realized. That Mark was so opposed to the idea of dating him, even as part of a cover up. It bothered him even more that he hadn’t actually considered that Mark would be this opposed to the idea. Donghyuck felt a spike of worry. Maybe he’d gone too far, he thought. Maybe he’d crossed a line from teasing into making Mark genuinely uncomfortable.

“I just… I thought that it’d be the best explanation, since you can’t really leave me,” Donghyuck explained, in fractured fragments, in a tentative voice.

“I can tell them we decided we were better off as friends, if you want?” Donghyuck offered.

Donghyuck held his breath, as Mark shifted. He angled his head forward, just enough to rest the side of his head on Donghyuck’s pillow. His expression was unreadable in the dark. His were eyes black and devoid of the shine Donghyuck had come to expect from them.

“After we made up that whole backstory?” Mark spoke, finally, “I guess I’m okay with letting them think we’re... I don’t know. It’s only ‘til you figure out how to break the curse, anyways.”

Donghyuck didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not. He hadn’t crossed a line, then. But with Mark’s reassurance came the reminder that Mark was only there for one reason: Donghyuck had happened upon a book and read aloud an incantation for summoning a demon. And then, Donghyuck’s luck had run out.

Donghyuck wasn’t aware that he’d fallen into silence until Mark cleared his throat, soft, drawing him out from his thoughts.

Mark issued a hushed, “‘Night then, Donghyuck.”

Before Donghyuck could reply, he’d already turned around. He faced away from Donghyuck, towards the wall. Though he’d placed the spare pillow as a buffer between them once more, this time Mark kept his head on Donghyuck’s pillow.

Donghyuck allowed himself to trace Mark’s silhouette with his eyes, just once. Donghyuck let out an inaudible exhalation. He forced himself to turn over, away from Mark.

⛤

The next day, Donghyuck got his coffee, but it was laced with something awful. It tasted sour, like the milk they’d used had gone bad. Donghyuck took one sip, gagged, and threw the whole cup away. Mark watched and, as Donghyuck came back from the cafe counter with another cup, he offered a sigh and a single “See?”.

Donghyuck had deigned not to respond to him.

Donghyuck made it to class with minutes to spare, but  once he got there, the professor announced it was time to review last night’s homework assignment. Donghyuck could have sworn the assignment was due in the midst of dead week, days from then, so he hadn’t done it yet.

He sunk into his chair, as the professor insisted the assignment was a good benchmark for their final. If they’d failed it, they might want to think long and hard about potentially failing the final and, subsequently, the class. Donghyuck hadn’t done the assignment at all. That probably wasn’t a good sign.

All Mark had to do was give Donghyuck a look as his professor was speaking, and Donghyuck got the message. He rolled his eyes, though. He still thought this paled in comparison to what curses should have been: soul-sucking, and dangerous. Donghyuck would persist.

“Today might not have started off great,” Donghyuck admitted, as he met up with Mark outside of his last class, a small seminar that Mark wasn’t be able to sneak into, “But I know it’s going to get better.”

“Didn’t think humans had the ability to see the future,” Mark muttered.

He handed Donghyuck back his phone. Donghyuck had lent it to Mark so he wouldn’t get bored and resort to magicking some unsuspecting student for entertainment. Going by his dour expression and the lack of screams in the air, Donghyuck felt secure in the knowledge that his strategy had worked, more or less.

“Ha ha,” Donghyuck returned, flat.

He let a smile spread across his face. He stretched his arms high above his head, relaxing his muscles from all the notes he’d had to take in his seminar. It had been the most writing he’d ever had to do in that class, but he wasn’t complaining.

“It’s Friday,” Donghyuck trilled, “It’s the weekend! Weekends never suck.”

Mark shot him a perplexed look, “Are you sure about that? You’re cursed and you have a demon bound to you.”

“Like I said,” Donghyuck grinned, bright, “Weekends never suck.”

Donghyuck and Jeno had a long established Friday night tradition that, at some point during the beginning of the semester, Renjun had joined in on, and Jaemin had followed soon after. The four of them all got together, picked out a random restaurant with a single dollar sign on Yelp, ordered four different and feasted, as they talked about their week.

Things hadn’t changed with the addition of Renjun and Jaemin, and they didn’t change with Mark in the mix, either. Their dinner started off smoothly, with Mark staying carefully quiet as Jaemin and Jeno competed over who’d had the worse week.

Apparently, one of Jaemin’s friends from his business organization had downloaded Tinder onto his phone. All week, he’d had to field conversations from dozens of desperate students, male and female, looking to take him out.

“Crazy idea: you could just not respond to their messages,” Renjun stated. His voice was neutral, but his eyes were trained low. He wasn’t looking at Jaemin, as he addressed him. Instead, he watched his fork as he pushed the rice on his plate around, forming it into a mound.

“Or, better yet, delete the app.”

“Injun,” Jaemin had gasped, bright smile afixed on his face, “You can’t even pretend to care? See-- this is why I can't delete it. I have to get attention from someone. You keep ignoring me, Hyuck’s busy, and Jeno’s… Jeno.”

Renjun let out a tight sigh, instead of the laughter Jaemin was probably aiming for. Donghyuck wondered if he was just imagining it, or the atmosphere around the table had suddenly gotten… fraught. He glanced to Jeno.

Jeno returned Donghyuck’s look. He shrugged, then cleared his throat.

“Well, I have to hear Hyuck be cute and whisper with his new boyfriend every night, so I think I’ve got it worse than Jaemin.”

Donghyuck felt as though he’d been walking down a set of stairs and missed the last step. Jeno had smoothed over the moment, going by the way Renjun looked up from his plate and snorted, amused at Jeno’s misfortune. But at what cost?
Dread filled him, and he turned to gauge Mark’s reaction. Unexpectedly, Mark appeared to have managed to suppress his usual reaction of instant denial. His face was almost unreadable, save for a slight twitching of one of his eyes.

“Sorry,” Mark said, “I hope I won’t have to intrude on you guys too much longer.”

Jeno laughed, soft. Donghyuck felt his heart sink. He wasn’t sure why. From the very start, Mark had insisted that Donghyuck should be working on breaking the curse. From the start, Mark had seemed to want to be rid of Donghyuck. It shouldn’t be getting to him now, when it hadn’t before.

“That’s okay, Mark,” Jeno leaned in towards Mark, and whispered conspiratorially, “I don’t really mind. Stay as long as you want. Or, at least, stay until our RA catches you and kicks you out.”

“Oh. Great. Thanks,” Mark returned, his voice weak.

A sharp shock of pain surged up from Donghyuck’s finger and he realized, suddenly, that he’d somehow fallen back on his old nervous habit of picking on his fingernails. He shifted, slipped his hand under leg so he wouldn’t be tempted to do it again.

Then, he grinned. If it was a little forced… Well, no one would notice.

“Anyways, my week was great! I got to see you guys, I did decent in all my finals prep assignments. Mostly,” Donghyuck glanced at Mark, to see a skeptical look on his face. Donghyuck faltered, but turned back to his friends’ attentive faces, “Okay, I completely failed one and forgot to do another. But Mark’s here! That’s exciting.”

Renjun’s brows knitted together.

“Hyuck, you should be more concerned about failing those assignments,” he said.

“Right?” Mark cut in, eager. He uncrossed his arms and gestured at Donghyuck, “That’s what I’ve been telling him.”

That had to have been the longest sentence Mark had uttered the whole dinner, Donghyuck thought. Donghyuck wasn’t the only one who took note of Mark’s sudden, unexpected animation. The whole table turned to him. Mark froze, with a caught expression on his face. Renjun offered him a slight, awkward smile.

“Oh my God,” Jaemin groaned. Mark flinched. Donghyuck was grateful that Renjun and Jeno seemed to be too engaged in Jaemin to have noticed it, though, “It’s two assignments. He’ll be fine.”

Renjun chastised Jaemin for not caring enough about schoolwork, about the whole reason they were there in the first place. Jaemin smiled, as he told Renjun that, as admirable as his work ethic was, he should learn to have a little more fun. For some reason, that had rendered Renjun speechless for a moment, until Jeno cut in with a comment on how he ought to have ordered samosas. Then both Renjun and Jaemin rounded on him for saying that when he’d gone and stolen all of Renjun’s.

They fell back into a comfortable rhythm. Donghyuck was probably too relieved to see Mark integrated into their group, though his inclusion wasn’t seamless.

Now and again, Renjun still glanced at Mark with a shrewd gaze, covertly, when he thought Donghyuck wasn’t looking. Jaemin seemed to have picked up on some of Renjun’s suspicion, because Donghyuck even caught him sneaking glances Mark a few times.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Donghyuck asked Mark, as they trudged back to his dorm.

Though Mark hadn’t begun to act sullen or withdrawn again, Donghyuck had noticed that a few hours into the night, he’d started to grow antsy, fidgety. Mark’s hand had kept drifting up, to his mouth, covering it seemingly automatically when Renjun looked too long in his direction.

They’d left the rest of the guys behind, with Jaemin shouting a “Don’t forget about the party tomorrow!” at their backs.

“Your friends are alright. They kinda remind me of my own,” Mark said, his voice thoughtful.

“Are you calling my friends demons?” Donghyuck asked, shocked into laughter.

“Not all of them. Renjun’s okay,” Mark equivocate. He managed a blank face for just a moment before he grinned, his pointed teeth glinting in the low, yellowed light emanating from the streetlamps overhead, “Kidding. You guys just seem... easy together.”

Donghyuck thought about Mark’s observation for a moment. He’d thought that they hadn’t been easy that night, not like they usually were. Jaemin’s attempts at flirting with Renjun had gone more poorly than they usually did. He’d managing to set the atmosphere off with every try, and it’d stayed awkward up until Donghyuck or Jeno managed make a joke land and set it right.

“Yeah. I guess,” Donghyuck glanced at Mark.

Mark had his hands in the pockets of the ripped jeans Donghyuck had lent him. His beanie was tugged low over his head, pushing his bangs over his brow. The corner of his lip was still quirked up. Save for the small fang that was only just visible, the point poking out over his bottom lip, he could pass for any other underclassman walking around town at nine at night.

Donghyuck felt a pang in his chest, a dull twinge. A strange thought hit him. That it’d be easier if that were the case, if Mark was just another student, like Donghyuck.

“I think they like you too,” Donghyuck continued, frowning at himself. He wasn’t sure what good it did, thinking about a scenario where Mark wasn’t a stuck-up demon.

Mark turned to look at him. Donghyuck’s steps faltered at the look on his face. Confused. He wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. He wondered why he cared at all, when he didn’t usually care about misspeaking. Donghyuck pressed his lips together, smiled, and turned away. He watched a group of girls in spangly dresses as they roved over an empty, decrepit lot.

“What are you going to tell them after you break the curse and I’m gone?” Mark asked, his tone neutral.

Donghyuck had to think about it. He crossed his arms over his chest, as a gust of wind blasted down the street, chilling the air. He sped up, nodding in the direction he was headed for Mark’s benefit, before trotting across the deserted street.

By the time Mark caught up to him, Donghyuck had an answer.

“I’ll tell them you were just here on visiting your parents and you had to go back to your school in, like, Texas or something. Somewhere far away.”

“Canada,” Mark murmured, low. They were nearing Donghyuck’s dorm.

“What?” Donghyuck wasn’t sure he’d heard Mark correctly. He shivered, as another burst of wind hit them, sending his shirt rippling and, he was sure, his hair into disarray.

Mark sighed. The sound of it was almost inaudible as dry leaves skittered across the path in front of them, pushed along by the gales of wind.

“Nevermind.”

Donghyuck didn’t want to think about the topic any longer. He swiped his card and held the door open for Mark to get into the building. He scurried in after Mark, and closed the door behind them.

“I swear, the forecast said it’d be mild and sunny today,” Donghyuck groaned. He rubbed his hands over his forearms, trying to warm them, “I can’t wait to get into bed.”

Mark’s mouth twisted immediately, and Donghyuck snorted.

“Don’t make that face! It’s totally cool to go to bed at nine on a Friday night.”

Mark muttered something Donghyuck didn’t catch, as he raced for the stairs. He bounded up them two at a time, eager for the warmth that waited for him in his dorm.

Of course, Donghyuck realized when he’d gotten to the dorm that he didn’t have his keys. He groaned, and dropped his head against the door. He was sure, as sure as he was of anything, that the keys to unlock it lay just feet away, on the other side of it. He knew where they’d be, too-- on his desk, right next to his warm, comfortable bed that he ought to be crawling into right then. That he ought to be sharing with a cozy, cute demon.

“So…” said cute demon drawled in a decidedly non-cute, smug tone. Donghyuck righted himself, plastering a grin on his face.

“This is just a minor setback. Jeno’s coming back soon. We can just watch TV in the dorm basement ‘til then.”

By the time Jeno came back from hanging out with Jaemin and Renjun three hours later, Donghyuck had nearly drifted off. He was curled up in a ball on his half of the lumpy old couch in their dorm’s musty basement, forcing his heavy eyelids open, and Mark had to tap his shoulder and let him know that Jeno had responded to his texts.

“Hyuck, I’m so sorry. I think I had bad service or something. I didn’t get your texts until I got back here,” Jeno rushed through an apology, as he fumbled with his keys to open the dorm door, “I would’ve come back sooner if I’d known you and Mark were locked out.”

“That’s alright,” Donghyuck said, bright, if a little drowsy.

He’d gotten a good rest on the lumpy basement couch. He’d also caught Mark staring, completely entranced with movie that was playing on the small TV set. They’d watched Princess Diaries, most of the first, and all of the second. Mark’s apparent, utter fascination with them had almost made the wait worth it.

Donghyuck thought he might have even caught Mark sniff once when Anne Hathaway was giving her speech about being able to rule Genovia on her own. He wasn’t sure about that one, though. It had been hard to tell, with Mark sitting as far away from Donghyuck as possible, all the way at the other corner of the couch. 

“I was trying to give you two alone time,” Jeno sighed. He sounded so remorseful that, even if he had been upset, Donghyuck wouldn’t have been able to stay that way.

Mark laughed, sharp, before muttering, “Yeah. You really didn’t need to do that.”

Donghyuck could tell Jeno had heard Mark, from the way his tentative smile twisted into a frown and his eyes dimmed. Jeno ducked his head as held the door open for Donghyuck and Mark to pass through.

Donghyuck laid on his bed. He was turned away from Mark, watching as Jeno scrolled through his phone. The light radiating off the phone’s screen illuminating the frown on Jeno’s face. Donghyuck let out a short sigh. There was no way for Jeno to know why Mark thought that giving them more time to spend together was unnecessary. Donghyuck hoped he wasn’t beating himself up too much.

After the light of Jeno’s phone went out, the dorm room was plunged into silence. Donghyuck felt hyperaware of Mark behind him. He wondered if Mark had already fallen asleep. After a moment’s deliberation, Donghyuck rolled over.

He tugged the pillow buffer between them down, so he wouldn’t just be talking directly into it. It seemed Mark was awake, after all. The movement prompted Mark to roll over and face him.

“What?” he asked, as though he hadn’t been struggling to fall asleep either.

“Look,” Donghyuck started, geared up. He’d had time as he’d waited for Jeno to fall asleep. He’d practically mapped this conversation out in his head, already, “I don’t care how much you hate me,” A lie. A massive, whopping, but completely inconsequential lie, “But don’t take it out on my friends, okay?

Mark blinked. He looked at Donghyuck as though taken aback, as though he’d never, in all his years of living, been spoken to this bluntly before. Donghyuck found that hard to buy.

“I don’t--,” Mark started, stuttering.

“Be rude to me all you want. I get it! You’re stuck with me and I’m annoying as shit,” Mark opened his mouth and Donghyuck hurried to get out his next few words, before Mark could try to deny the truth of what he’d said, “But Jeno thought he was doing something nice for us, and you made him feel like he messed up. That’s not cool, Mark.”

Mark’s mouth clamped shut. He stared at Donghyuck, wide eyed, for a long moment. Donghyuck’s heart was beating a quick rhythm in his chest, as he maintained eye contact with Mark. He was fully aware how ridiculous their current situation was-- he was sharing a bed with a century-old demon, and he was chastising said demon, telling him he’d misbehaved.

Donghyuck wondered if he should be worried, if Mark was going to use some of his hellpower to lash out at Donghyuck for not bowing down to his whims, or something.

Mark’s face shifted, suddenly. He huffed a laugh before cracking a grin. Donghyuck only just managed to contain his sigh of relief. It looked as though Mark wasn’t going to kick his ass with demon magic after all.

“You keep surprising me,” Mark murmured. Donghyuck hoped that was a good thing, though he really couldn’t count on it. Not with his luck.

Mark made a thoughtful noise, “I’m sorry about that. I’ll apologize to Jeno tomorrow.”

It was Donghyuck’s turn to be surprised. He almost couldn’t believe how well that had gone. He clenched his hand in the blanket, telling his heart to just slow down already. The potential danger had passed, but his heart was still racing.

Donghyuck swallowed, under Mark’s unwavering gaze.

“Oh. Good,” Donghyuck managed, thick, “I’d appreciate that.”

Mark smiled. Small, almost as though he was unsure of it. He cleared his throat and, though it was soft, the sound was loud in the quiet room.

“And you might be as annoying as some guys I know from down below whose literal jobs are to torment people...”

Donghyuck felt the corners of his lips quirk up into a smile too.

“...but I don’t hate you,” Mark paused for a moment, though it seemed he had something else he wanted to say. Donghyuck waited, holding his breath.

At last, Mark coughed, light, awkward, “Just wanted to make that clear. Uh. Yeah. ‘Night, Donghyuck.”

Without waiting for a response, Mark rolled over, curling up into a parentheses as he faced away from Donghyuck. Donghyuck fought the desire to laugh at just how odd his demon was. He smiled, shook his head. He told himself that it was ridiculous to feel as relieved as he did just because Mark had revealed that he didn’t hate Donghyuck.

“‘Night, Mark,” Donghyuck whispered.

That night, he didn’t bother turning around. He curled up, facing the pillow, his hand still twisted in the blanket.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck was practically buzzing with excitement, as he dragged Mark through the breadth of he and Jeno’s tiny dorm, trying and failing to force him to pick something of Donghyuck’s with at least a touch of color other than black.

“You’re so boring,” Donghyuck glanced over his shoulder to pout at Mark.

He turned back and held up a gold lamé shirt he’d stolen from Jeno that time he’d dressed up as a pirate for halloween.

He contemplated it, for a moment, before putting it back in his closet. As much as he liked to attract attention, he’d stick out in a bad way at the evening’s plans in something like that. Jaemin’s friend’s frat was holding a party, and he’d asked Jaemin to bring along some hot friends. Jaemin had reported, with a grin, that he’d never specified his hot friends had to be girls.

Donghyuck’s hand brushed up against a velvet button up he hadn’t worn once since he’d bought on impulse. He dragged it out. It was an even richer crimson than he’d recalled it being. It was almost blood red. Donghyuck smiled. That’d do just fine.

“I’m a demon. We wear black,” Mark said, touch of annoyance in his voice. He was sprawled out on Donghyuck’s bed. He was just sitting there, like he owned the place or something, watching Donghyuck flit about the room. His head was resting on his arm, drawn back, and one of his pointed teeth was jutted out over his lip. One of his boots was crossed over the other, probably dirtying up Donghyuck’s blanket.

“That’s stupid,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

Mark made a sound of disbelief in the back of his throat, and Donghyuck turned around, to face him.

“It is stupid,” Donghyuck . He perched his hand on his hip as he eyed Mark, thoughtful, “What would you wear if you didn’t think you had to wear all black, all the time?”

Mark’s lips thinned. His gaze dropped, to the velvet shirt in Donghyuck’s other hand. He looked back up.

“I dunno. I haven’t really thought about it.”

Donghyuck raised the shirt, already liking his decision to choose it more and more. He shook it, delighting in how Mark’s eyes once more darted to it.

“Liar,” he intoned, before turning around, laying his shirt on his desk, and announcing, “I’m too lazy to go down the hall just to change.”

“What?” came Mark’s bewildered question.

Donghyuck looked over his shoulder, grinning to see the pure confusion on Mark’s face. He lowered his hands to the hem of his shirt, and watched Mark’s gaze track the movement.

“Close your eyes,” he reminded him, keeping his voice light, despite the fact that his heart was doing something odd in his chest, beating faster for no real reason at all.

Mark’s lips parted, as he looked up to Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck lifted a brow and, not a moment later, Mark’s hand had gone up to cover his eyes.

“Don’t peek!” Donghyuck added, sing song.

He turned back around, smiling a soft smile, only for himself. The tips of Mark’s ears had already flushed a bright red, in only moments. He’d thought he’d just been trying to get a reaction out of Mark by acting out in unexpected ways, but Mark just kept surprising him too.

“Wasn’t gonna,” Mark muttered, and Donghyuck had to laugh. Then again, Mark was also starting to become predictable.

Donghyuck was already feeling vindicated, just two steps beyond the frat’s gate. Their bouncer had let their group in without question, though it’d felt like they’d seen countless groups of other guys turned away at the door.

“Know what? I’m feeling so lucky right now!” Donghyuck exclaimed, grinning Mark’s way.

Mark only shook his head, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets, hiking his shoulders up. He’d pulled on the leather jacket for the party and, for once, Donghyuck hadn’t even tried to ask him not to wear it. He was part of their group, receiving appreciative glances from the girls at the party and awed, sometimes annoyed looks from the few guys present.

“We didn’t even have to namedrop Jaemin,” Jeno was smiling too, politely clearing a path for them by issuing threads of ‘excuse me’s and ‘coming through’s.

“I’m starting to think he only said we’d have to mention him because he thought it’d be impressive or something,” Renjun muttered.

He’d spoken under his breath, though, and the cacophony of the people crowded into the frat house covered his words for all but Donghyuck.

Donghyuck looked at Renjun, curious, wondering if he was finally starting to get over the mental block he seemed to have when it came to Jaemin. Renjun glanced up at Donghyuck, from where he’d been watching where his polished shoes were stepping. His brows were drawn together, in thought. He shrugged, to see Donghyuck’s look, and his eyes fell right back down to his shoes.

Finally, they pushed through to the yard in the back, where Donghyuck would be remiss to say they were able to catch a breath of fresh air. The air outside was clogged with the smell of sweat, of the headache-inducing sweetness of spilled punch, of cigarette smoke and the lingering scent of dozens of different perfumes and colognes colliding.

“This is making me homesick,” Mark said, low, as they made their way to the makeshift bar set up. His voice was loud, though he’d nearly spoken in a whisper. He was right behind Donghyuck. Donghyuck realized, with a jolt, that the hot puff of air he’d felt on his ear had probably been from Mark, speaking.

Donghyuck twisted around and, sure enough, Mark’s face was mere inches from his. Mark blinked, and Donghyuck nearly stumbled, as his gaze was drawn to Mark’s eyes. They were wide and dark and Donghyuck very nearly got lost in them, before the tip of his boots snagged on someone’s ankle and he lost his balance.

Donghyuck gasped, sharp, as he wobbled and started to pitch forward. Only to be halted, saved, not a split second later, as a warm arm encircled his waist in a firm grip. Donghyuck’s heart was pounding, leaping up into his throat, as he turned in Mark’s grasp to face him, his face even impossibly closer than it’d been moments before.

Donghyuck had to remind himself to breathe, had to force himself to take a measured inhale, as Mark’s widened eyes filled his field of vision. He really could get lost in them, if he wasn’t careful.

“Oh no,” a high, nasally voice came, from behind Donghyuck, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck said, automatic, breathless. He couldn’t turn to look at the girl he’d tripped over, though, couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from Mark, “Wasn’t your fault. I’m clumsy.”

Mark blinked, slow, and the spell was broken.

“You’re not clumsy,” Mark said, slipping his arm from Donghyuck’s waist, leaving him feeling too bare with it gone, “You’re cursed.”

Donghyuck could hear a waver in his voice, the last word he’d spoken was slightly pitched.

“Thanks for reminding me. I’d forgotten,” Donghyuck took a half step back from Mark, hoping it would help slow the pace of his racing heart. It didn’t. Mark’s lips twisted, pulling down into a frown. Donghyuck wanted to say something but, suddenly, it seemed as if he was incapable of drawing up a single clever quip.

“You two! Stop flirting for a second and come get your drinks!”

Donghyuck’s head whipped around, to find Jeno standing nearly at the front of the line to the makeshift bar, his hands cupped around his mouth. Donghyuck relayed the shouted words in his mind, wondering what had made Jeno think they were flirting.

It was probably how close they were standing, Donghyuck thought. Or maybe he’d seen Mark catch him as he was falling. But that hadn’t been flirty. That’d been precautionary. Or maybe Jeno had somehow seen Donghyuck’s face, from that far away, and he’d somehow read Donghyuck’s thoughts projected clearly on his expression. And wasn’t that a frightening prospect, that Donghyuck had been so transparent—.

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to pretend to be dating,” Mark sighed.

Donghyuck’s turned his head back around to face Mark so quickly he’d felt he’d get whiplash. He felt awash with relief and frustration at himself, all at once. Jeno had said that because they were dating, as far as Jeno knew. Of course.

Donghyuck exhaled, imagining he was exhaling all his stupidity and useless worry from seconds prior out with the air from his lungs. Then, he smiled.

“Telling them we decided we’re better off as friends is still on the table,” he said, as he started to walk towards Jeno and Renjun.

Mark made a strange face, as he followed a half-step behind Donghyuck. He scrunched up his nose. Like he was about to sneeze but, well, Donghyuck had to admit it looked a bit cuter than that.

“Nah,” he said, after a beat.

“Nah?” Donghyuck repeated, pleased.

Mark pursed his lips. His eyes slid beyond Donghyuck, “Yeah. Nah.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help it. He burst out into laughter, as they finally managed to push their way to where Jeno and Renjun were standing. For as much as Mark cared about appearing like perfect little demon, he sure didn’t act like how demons probably should have acted.

Donghyuck reached forward, on impulse, to straighten Mark’s beanie, tug it down. It hadn’t even been askew, he was ashamed to acknowledge. He’d just wanted an excuse to stay near to Mark. Mark’s eyes widened, and his hand flew up. He pressed his fingers carefully, lightly, across the band of the beanie, ensuring it was all still in place.

He smiled at Donghyuck, after. A slight thing, small, but grateful. And Donghyuck felt a flutter of pleasure, though he knew he ought to feel embarrassed, crafting reasons to reach out and breach the air between them.

“So, what are we thinking tonight? Watered down Everclear punch or watered down vodka lemonade?” Jeno mused, surveying the two coolers on the bar, indistinguishable save from the drips of red staining the cement beneath the one on the right.

Mark pulled another face. Disgust, and Donghyuck felt even more hopelessly endeared. He wondered if something was wrong with him, if it was just the night, the music, or if Mark catching him from falling had been all that’d done this to him.

“Both sound equally appalling,” Renjun raised his hand to his chin, scrutinized the two coolers, “Everclear, maybe? I still haven’t gotten over Jaemin’s incident with vodka at the last one of these we went to.”

Donghyuck shivered, immediately, upon the recollection of that. Jeno pointed at Renjun and nodded, solemnly.

“Heard,” he said, simply, before leaning over the table and requesting, “Four punches, please,” of the diminutive frat guy manning the bar.

“Coming right up, sir!” the poor guy squeaked, ducking his head, and scrambling to get four cups.

“Sir,” Jeno mused, spinning around and leaning up against the table, “We should hit up this frat more often. I think I like it.”

“Wait ‘til after you try their punch to say that,” Renjun shook his head, “With our luck, it’s gonna be fucking awful.”

It was. Mark took one sip, and handed his cup to Donghyuck.

“Drinks in Hell taste better than this,” Mark said, crossing his arms in a pout.

Donghyuck laughed, and took his cup from him. He took another sip of his own, couldn’t conceal the full body tremor that shook him in the wake of it. At least it was strong, he reasoned. Even if it tasted more like red dye than whatever fruit medley that punch was meant to taste like.

“You say the weirdest shit, Mark,” Jaemin said. He grinned, as he took a sip of his own cup. Donghyuck didn’t know what number he was on, but he was willing to bet that Jaemin had already had at least one. He’d found Mark and Donghyuck minutes ago, already giggly and smiling.

The three of them sipped their drinks and leaned up against the frat’s back porch’s railing, as Renjun and Jeno danced with their cups held high above their heads, on the grass below.

“He really does, doesn’t he?” replied Donghyuck, leaving Mark out to dry. Mark sighed, pushed himself off the porch railing.

“I think I’m gonna try and find something drinkable here,” he said, then, “Water, maybe? They should have drinkable water, at least, right?”

“Wouldn’t put money on that,” Jaemin said, sounding apologetic.

Donghyuck took in Mark’s forlorn face. He let out a sympathetic sound, then reached back into his back pocket for his wallet. He drew out a couple of bills and pressed them into Mark’s hand. Mark looked from the money to Donghyuck, questioning.

“There’s a convenience store a couple blocks south of here,” Donghyuck said, fond, warm from both the presence of his friends and Mark and the buoyant atmosphere. Not to mention the everclear, “You can get yourself a drink there, if you want.”

“Cute,” Jaemin whined, slumping down lower against the railing.

Donghyuck elbowed him, feeling heat rise to his face.

Mark’s brows lifted and, thankfully, he seemed to take Jaemin’s narration in stride.

“Thanks,” he said, lifted up at the end. He folded the bills carefully and tucked them into his pocket, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Not if you’re walking like a normal human person, you won’t,” Donghyuck reminded him, pointed, just in case Mark actually tried to magic himself to and from the store. A corner of Mark’s lips quirked up.

“Right,” Mark’s voice was light, amused, “I’ll walk over to the convenience store, like a normal human person.”

“Oh! And bring me back Twizzlers, if you can,” Donghyuck called out, as Mark started to walk away.

“I'll see what I can do,” Mark spun, momentarily walking backwards, his crooked smile putting his fangs on display, “Be back in a moment and a half!”

Donghyuck laughed, even though Mark was already nearly out of earshot.

“Weird,” Jaemin commented, thoughtful, “Still cute. But also… weird.”

Donghyuck snorted, as he lifted his first cup to take another sip. After a beat, he cast his gaze down to Jaemin.

“You know, you could also be cute and weird with a guy too if you just—”

“ — Yeah,” Jaemin sighed, heavy, shifting his head where it was rested onto his hand, “I know.”

Donghyuck followed his gaze, curious as to why his lips had suddenly twisted down. And, really, he should’ve known. Jaemin was staring at Renjun, as Renjun twirled around a laughing Jeno on the frat’s trampled grass, paying no mind to those around them that were grinding, swaying low to the heavy beat. Renjun was dancing to his own tune and, going by the serene look on his face, it was something beautiful.

“I love him,” Jaemin said, suddenly. Donghyuck choked on his punch.

“What?” he spluttered. Jaemin had said it with such conviction, such surety. Donghyuck knew about the crush, everyone save for Renjun knew about the crush. But love?

Jaemin nodded. As Donghyuck eyed him, carefully, a lazy grin spread across his face.

“I do,” Jaemin shook his head, still grinning, “There’s no way he doesn’t know it too. He has to.”

“I don’t think he does,” Donghyuck said, still dazed. Even Donghyuck hadn’t known. He doubted Jeno knew, either, and Jeno knew every single other secret of Jaemin’s.

“Injun’s the— the smartest guy in the world,” Jaemin said, “He knows. He just doesn’t feel the same. And that’s okay! I don’t mind.”

The forced levity in Jaemin’s voice, how tight it sounded, how strained his smile had gone, as he continued to stare out into the crowd athe graceful shapes Renjun was tracing through the air. It weighed on Donghyuck’s chest, like an anvil had been dropped on him. He ached, for Jaemin.

“You can’t know that he doesn’t feel the same,” Donghyuck shook his head. He took a heartening sip of the disgusting punch-everclear concoction, “Jaemin, I really think you need to give him a chance before you go and decide how he feels. You need to tell him what you’re telling me.”

“I can’t do that,” Jaemin despaired.

He righted himself, setting his cup aside. Donghyuck watched as it rolled off the railing and landed in the grass-smattered dirt below, where it was sure to be trampled by errant feet in no time at all.

“It’d make things awkward,” Jaemin hesitated. He cocked his head, and looked away from Renjun. His eyes were wide, sincere, “Wouldn’t it?”

Donghyuck shrugged, feeling distinctly overwhelmed and underprepared to be giving any love advice, “You guys are friends. I think that won’t ever change, no matter what happens, no matter if you choose to tell him how you feel or to keep it to yourself.”

Jaemin blinked. He pressed his lips together, as his gaze slid back to Renjun.

“Maybe I should,” he spoke, distant, “It worked out for you and Mark, right?”

“Yeah—,” Donghyuck was already gearing up to cheer Jaemin on, when the final part of what Jaemin said caught up to his thoughts, already growing sluggish.

“Wait. Hold on a minute.”

“How’d you let Mark know you were into him?” Jaemin asked, urgent.

Donghyuck was speechless. Somehow, it felt like a worse deception to lie about dating Mark in that moment, with Jaemin begging to know.

“Uh,” Jaemin’s eyes were searching, boring into Donghyuck. His tongue felt thick, “You know… I don’t really remember? I think it just happened. I just kinda… went for it.”

Jaemin’s eyes narrowed, his mouth thinned out. He nodded, resolute, then reached out and snatched the cup from Donghyuck’s hand, before he could react. Jaemin gulped a long gulp, one that would’ve left Donghyuck shuddering. Then, he set the cup down. His gaze was firmly fixed on Renjun, down below them.

“Fuck it,” Jaemin said. Though he looked determined his voice was wavering, uneven, “I think it’s time I went for it too. Wish me luck.”

Donghyuck wished he’d asked for anything else.

His blood ran cold as Jaemin turned to go. An awful sense filled him. He wanted to quash it. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know what was going through his head. Donghyuck had been pushing Jaemin to confess to Renjun for months on end. He couldn’t explain why, now that Jaemin was finally doing it, he wanted to put a stop to it.

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck reached out and grasped Jaemin’s arm.

Jaemin paused, looked down at Donghyuck’s hand on him, then up to Donghyuck, question clear on his face.

Donghyuck smiled, weak, “Maybe wait ‘til you’re sober? Renjun will be around tomorrow. You don’t have to tell him right now.”

Donghyuck couldn’t shake the feeling that it’d somehow go wrong, if Jaemin followed through with his confession right then. He’d mentioned luck… Donghyuck wondered if his curse extended to affecting those around him. For the first time, he felt an inkling of worry.

Jaemin’s head turned, his eyes always finding their way back to Renjun. His face crumpled in an instant, and the weight on Donghyuck’s chest felt crushing.

“I just want to see him smile like that at me,” Jaemin’s voice was fragile. Donghyuck sucked in a breath and held it, out of some irrational fear that the slightest sound from him would break Jaemin.

“Because of me. Not because of something stupid I said or did. I… I want to kiss him, Hyuck. I just want to kiss him until he has to stop because he’s smiling too hard to carry on, y’know?”

Something in Jaemin’s gaze had shifted as he’d spoken, gone softer. Donghyuck followed it.

Jeno was spinning Renjun around in a wide circle. Guys in polo shirts and girls in short skirts laughed and darted out of the path they were tracing. The thing was, Donghyuck didn’t know what Jaemin was talking about. Renjun nearly always smiled around him. It was small, clandestine, but it was always there. A permanent fixture, at least when Jaemin was around.

“Fuck,” Jaemin hissed, “I need something decent to drink. I’m gonna find my friend. I’ll try and catch up with you and the guys later, alright?”

He pried his arm out from Donghyuck’s hand. Before Donghyuck could even offer a response, Jaemin was slinking away, into the frat. His pink hair was visible as he slowly wove his way through the hordes of people squeezed inside.

Donghyuck thought he’d been doing the right thing, convincing Jaemin to wait until later to talk to Renjun, but doubt was already creeping in. He turned back around, tried to soothe his doubts by watching Renjun and Jeno, and taking a long swig of the punch from his cup, gasping as the overly sweet punch and the pungent taste of Everclear hit the back of his throat. He’d finished it, he realized, with a jolt of surprise. He reached for the other one, Mark’s, and immediately started in on that, hoping he’d made the right choice in telling Jaemin to think it over.

Not even a few minutes passed before Donghyuck was interrupted.

“Hey,” he heard a voice, close, loud over the sound of the chattering crowd.

At first he was relieved, thinking Mark had returned. He felt a smile rising to his face, automatic, as he turned. He needed to ask Mark if the curse could affect his friends, too, or if it was just him.

But the guy at his side by the railing wasn’t Mark. He was wearing a pastel blue button-down, light khaki pants, and had a total lack of fangs in his toothy grin.

“Hi?” Donghyuck answered, wondering if he somehow knew this guy. He was drawing a blank.

“My name’s Mark,” the guy said, proferring his hand, taking the opportunity to slide closer into Donghyuck’s space, “What can I call you?”

Donghyuck felt the sudden desire to laugh. Whoever was in power, above or below, must have heard him wishing for Mark. Then they’d gone and sent him the wrong one. He took the Other Mark’s hand and shook it, barely, before slipping his hand out once more. He didn’t want to give the Other Mark false hope.

“Donghyuck,” Donghyuck smiled sweetly, before hefting his drink high and angling his body away from the Other Mark.

He was cute. Probably. If you were into the kind of guy that wore khakis and was so practiced at flirting he didn’t even stutter as he laid a line on you, that was.

“That’s a beautiful name,” the Other Mark said.

To which Donghyuck replied, “Right?” and hoped that would be the end of that conversation.

The Other Mark laughed, a touch too loud. The smell of liquor hit Donghyuck’s nose as he listed forward, closer into Donghyuck’s space. Then, the overpowering scent of too much cologne.

“You’re funny too. Wow,” the Other Mark drawled. Donghyuck debated just sliding away. He was just drunk enough that he didn’t care how rude that might seem, “I haven’t seen you around our parties before. Is this your first time at Sigma Mu?”

Donghyuck hummed in confirmation. He swirled around his cup and shot the Other Mark a sideways glance.

“Your drinks could use a little work.”

The Other Mark laughed. Donghyuck didn’t know him well, nor did he have any desire to, but he got the feeling the laugh was artificial. A show, for an audience that didn’t even want to see it.

“I’ll let the pledges know they’re slacking,” he said, low, almost a purr.

He shifted gears, in an instant. He reached out and grasped the fabric of Donghyuck’s shirt with his fingers, rubbing it between his finger and thumb. Donghyuck froze, as the pace of his heartbeat ticked up. He’d thought this guy was just annoying, but his questing hand on Donghyuck was forcing him to reconsider.

“What’s this made out of? It caught my eye, when I first saw you,” he continued, in that same low voice, “Velvet? It feels nice.”

Donghyuck wondered just how quickly he’d be kicked out of the party if he stomped on this guy’s toes.

He never got to find out.

A slight creaking noise reverberated through the air, a subtle groaning, as the wood slats of the porch trembled beneath his feet. That was all the warning Donghyuck had, before the railing the Other Mark was leaning on gave way. Just that small portion of it.

It bent forward, cleaving off from the rest of the railing with a slight crunch as wood split from wood. The Other’s Mark’s eyes widened to saucers as he pitched sideways off the porch, landing on the ground below with a light thump and a high-pitched yelp.

“He was bothering you, right?”

Mark. His Mark.

Donghyuck turned towards Mark’s voice. The door to the frat swung closed behind Mark as he stood in front of it. He had one hand raised, while the other was clutching a plastic bag emblazoned with a convenience store’s logo.

His face… Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat, at the look on Mark’s face. It was mostly enshadowed, but Donghyuck could just discern that his eyes were narrowed, glinting under furrowed brows. His upper lip was curled up in a snarl. Donghyuck had seen Mark look worried, look nervous, look shy. But he’d never seen Mark look dangerous, not until that moment.

Donghyuck exhaled, feeling for all the world as if he’d just been punched in the gut. He felt as though this was distinctly unfair. Mark wasn’t allowed to look like that, not while Donghyuck was tipsy, not while saving Donghyuck from too-friendly frat guys.

He took another sip of his drink, to buy himself time to pull himself together. Mark was a dork , he reminded himself. A demon, yeah. But a dork.

“No,” Donghyuck answered, finally, managing a light tone, “I was actually having a lot of fun.”

He pushed off of his part of the railing, hearing it creak as he walked away, towards Mark. Mark blinked, and the shadows across his features seemed to shift, lighten. His lips parted, into a small ‘o’.

“Oh,” Mark said. He lowered his arm slowly, as though unsure, “Sorry?”

Mark’s gaze moved past Donghyuck, to the broken scene behind him. Donghyuck looked back. The Other Mark was clambering up off the grass. He was seemingly unharmed, aside from a long stripe of dirt smeare across the side of his khakis. He groaned as he noticed it, loud enough for Donghyuck to hear it, all the way up on the porch.

“He’s probably not that mad?” Mark said, weak, “Maybe you could try again with him?”

The Other Mark chose that precise moment to shout a “Fuck!” and storm off, diving into the crowd of people. Donghyuck hissed, feeling just an ounce of sympathy for him, though it was buried deep, deep down, underneath the schadenfreude.

“Then again, maybe not,” Donghyuck turned back to his Mark, “Guess I’ll just have to make do with you,” he said, as though that was a hardship, and not the exact opposite.

Donghyuck reached his free hand out, feeling a smile play across his lips, “Did you get my Twizzlers?”

Mark’s eyes slid back over to Donghyuck. His expression changed, into something inscrutable. He made a soft sound at the back of his throat, then shook his head.

“All they had was Red Vines — ”

“You got me Red Vines? I really am cursed,” Donghyuck moaned. He was distantly aware he might have been overreacting, but the betrayal felt more severe with alcohol heightening his every notion.

“ — So I got you Skittles instead,” Mark rolled his eyes. He reached into the bag, and pulled them out.

Donghyuck’s mood was lifted back up in a moment. He bounded up and snatched the candy from Mark’s hand.

“You saved my ass from a creepy guy and you brought me my second favorite candy of all time?” Donghyuck beamed at Mark, “You’re a godsend.”

Mark seemed speechless for a moment. He stared at Donghyuck, wide eyed. Then Mark’s gaze darted away from Donghyuck.

“That’s… I’m really not. I’m just trying to make up for the fact that you don’t seem to be taking the curse seriously. At all.”

Donghyuck snorted, unwilling to let Mark’s continued insistence on always being so damn negative affect his good mood. He was already feeling the overwarm sensation of drunkenness, coursing through him inch by inch, loosening his limbs.  

He slipped the Skittles into his pocket and adjusted his grip on his drink.

“C’mon,” he said, grasping Mark’s wrist, “we’re gonna find a place to sit while I eat and you’re going to tell me more stories about Hell. It sounds like a —,” Donghyuck searched for the proper word, before settling on,” — an awesome place.”

“Hell does?”

Mark must have been stunned. He seemed to forget to slip his hand out from Donghyuck’s. He simply followed, without complaint or stalling, as Donghyuck tugged him down the stairs, past the crowd. He led him to the first place he found where it looked like they could sit in relative peace. All the way to an overturned workbench that looked as though, from the solo cups and ping pong balls scattered around it, it had been requisitioned for other uses by the frat.

He plopped down onto it, in a careful balancing act that might’ve been easier had he been in full control of his faculties.

“You miss it, right?” Donghyuck hummed. He patted the spot by him, “It can’t be that bad.”

Mark took the spot by Donghyuck on the workbench without so much as a single snarky comment.

“I guess…” he said.

He was still staring at Donghyuck as though he was some sort of puzzle to figure out. Donghyuck had to laugh at him. The corner of Mark’s lips quirked up. Maybe it was the light from the aged yellow post lights scattered around the frat yard, but his eyes seemed to shine even brighter than their normal sheen, in that moment.

“You know how everyone thinks Hell’s all fire and brimstone?” he asked. Donghyuck nodded eagerly, not even taking his eyes off Mark to glance down as he tore into the candy bag.

“They’re wrong. Hell’s freezing. There’s a reason why we always wear these jackets…”

Donghyuck smiled as he took another sip of his punch.

As Mark talked, he grew animated, his movements less restrained, stilted. He gestured with his hands and pulling faces as he regaled Donghyuck with stories of Hell. As interesting and entertaining as it was to hear Mark confess that a demon’s day-to-day life wasn’t exhilarating as human movies made it seem, it wasn’t Mark’s stories that made Donghyuck’s heart thrum and his cheeks ache from smiling.

It was Mark. He’d never seen this side of him. Donghyuck felt like he was slowly but surely chipping away at a facade he hadn’t even known was there, and finding the boy within the demon.

By the time Renjun and Jeno joined them, Donghyuck had already discovered so much he thought would have been true about Mark (and about heaven and hell and all the cosmos, he supposed) was false.

Demons went to class, apparently. Mark had to learn how to be a proper big boy demon before he was allowed to take on any curses, and he’d only just barely passed his final exam.

“But you passed!” Donghyuck raised his third cup of punch, already nearly drained, in a cheer to Mark, “And look at you now!”

Mark shook his head, but he had a soft smile curling the corners of his lips up.

“What did Mark pass?” Jeno asked, out of nowhere.

Donghyuck would’ve jumped in surprise if he had the care to. He looked to them, saw an easy smile on Jeno’s face and a broad grin on Renjun’s. He hadn’t even noticed them come up, he’d been so absorbed in hearing about the minutiae of Mark’s Underworld life.

Donghyuck grasped for something to say, but in his state trying to follow a complete thought was like trying to catch gusts of wind.

“He… his…” Donghyuck trailed off, looked to Mark for help. Mark caught his desperate gaze, then turned back to Renjun and Jeno.

“Driver’s test,” he frowned, “Finally. Took me three tries.”

Donghyuck felt an odd amount of pride at how quickly Mark had come up with that excuse. He let out a small sigh of relief. Renjun’s smile went a little uncertain, as he glanced from Donghyuck to Mark.

“Huh. Congrats,” he said, then, “Do you know where Jaemin might be? Jeno and I couldn’t spot him down here.”

“You couldn’t spot him down here,” Jeno corrected, mildly. Renjun’s shoulders jumped as he winced.

Donghyuck’s thoughts dripped by like syrup but he felt the insistent, annoying feeling of something not quite adding up.

“He said he was gonna find his frat friend, then come find us?” Donghyuck frowned, “I’m not sure how long ago that was, though.”

“Oh,” Renjun’s mouth twisted, “Okay. I guess we’ll look around then? I haven’t seen him all night, and I’d kind of like to… say hi.”

Donghyuck realized what was weird, then. Jaemin had been so adamant, so insistent upon marching right up and confessing to Renjun. And then Donghyuck had spoken, and Jaemin had made himself scarce. Apparently he hadn’t even greeted Renjun.

“Or we could just wait for him to come to us,” Jeno said, still smiling. He was the only one. Mark was looking from Renjun to Donghyuck, uncertainty on his face, a dimple creased between his drawn brows.

Renjun clicked his tongue.

“Whatever. I’ll find him on my own,” he said, terse, before turning on his heel and marching away. His diminutive silhouette was soon swallowed up by the throng of people writhing and dancing.

Mark stood up from the workbench, drawing Donghyuck’s eyes from the crowd of people to him.

“We should follow him.”  

He glanced down at Donghyuck, and something in his face shifted. He extended a hand out to Donghyuck, and Donghyuck’s eyes narrowed in on it, trying hard to figure out why and how Mark’s hand had ended up right in front of his face.

“Donghyuck,” Mark’s spoke, softer this time.

Donghyuck wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he saw the tension in Mark’s face, and his adrenaline spiked in answer. His heartbeat picked up pace. He grasped Mark’s hand, barely wobbling as Mark tugged him upright.

Mark guided him through the thick of the party. He was at Donghyuck’s back, occasionally angling him away from someone or something, occasionally redirecting him with a light brush of the tips of his fingers against the small of Donghyuck’s back.

It must have been Donghyuck’s already quickened heart beat, it must have been how drunk he was, but every time he felt Mark’s touch he felt his whole body react. He felt attuned to it. The barest contact from Mark made their surroundings fade to a buzz. He felt he could hear the sound of his own breathing, shallow and loud, audible above the chatter and music.

Renjun, he tried to remind himself, as Mark’s hand tightened on his back, as he whisked Donghyuck out of the way of someone’s overflowing drink. They were looking for Renjun.

He searched for Renjun’s dark head of hair, straining his eyes, scanning.

“There,” Mark said, breathless, his voice piercing the cottony feeling clouding Donghyuck’s senses.

“Where?” Jeno asked, somewhere to Donghyuck’s side.

Donghyuck saw him, just before Mark withdrew his hand from Donghyuck’s back to point him out. Renjun looked tinier than ever, a single solitary figure, slanted. He was holding onto a column that ran the length of the farthest corner of the frat’s porch. He was listed to the side as if his entire body weight was propped up on that thin column.

Donghyuck could only see the back of his head, but Renjun’s shoulders were set in a tense line. He stood there, frozen, staring at something that had to have been on the far side of the frat, past the thick of the party, past the strung up lights. Renjun was looking in the dim area between the side of the house and the fence that separated it from the next house over.

Donghyuck took a step toward Renjun, then another, issuing an faint apology to someone as he knocked into their elbow. As he made his way to Renjun, Renjun turned. Donghyuck’s breath caught in his throat to see the look on his face.

Devastated.

Then Renjun’s eyes caught on Donghyuck, on the rest of them. His eyes darted from Dnghyuck, to Jeno. His face slackened, from the tight, pained expression to something akin to exhaustion.

Donghyuck caught himself before stumbling, as he and Renjun met in the middle.

“What’s wrong?” Donghyuck asked. He felt winded, “What happened?”

They’d only been apart for seconds. Donghyuck couldn’t imagine what could have happened to force such a drastic change in Renjun’s mood in that short span of time.

Renjun just shrugged in response. His shoulders fell back down in a slump, as though weighed down, after he’d so briefly lifted them.

“Jaemin’s still with his friend. They were— they were busy. I didn’t want to bother them,” Renjun said, his voice sounding almost normal, just a slight tightness the only hint that something was off.

It took Donghyuck a moment to piece it together. Renjun’s words, his reaction, the sheer exhaustion written on his features. Donghyuck sucked in a breath of air, as he realized several things at once.

The revelation that Renjun seemed to like Jaemin back was bittersweet, when paired with the knowledge that Donghyuck had only discovered it because Renjun couldn’t hide his devastated reaction to Jaemin, and his random friend.

Donghyuck glanced at the darkened area beyond the porch, morbidly curious, before quashing that. It didn’t matter if they were just talking or if Renjun had caught them in the midst of making out. It didn’t. It was all the same to Renjun. Donghyuck felt a brief flare of annoyance at Jaemin, before realizing he ought to be annoyed with himself. It was Donghyuck who had gone and led Jaemin away from Renjun, practically pushing him into his friend’s arms.

“Jesus Christ, Jaemin,” Jeno intoned.

Jeno’s voice seemed to shake Renjun. His eyes glinted, shining more than they usually did. He bit his lip, and looked away from Donghyuck.

“I think I’m gonna go now,” his voice was tremulous, unsteady, “I’m kinda tired.”
“Okay,” Donghyuck said, hating that he couldn’t summon up anything more helpful to offer Renjun, “can we walk you back to your dorm?”

Renjun shook his head, immediately. When he looked back at Donghyuck, his eyes look wet. He looked dangerously close to tears. Donghyuck wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never seen Renjun like this, before.

“I don’t want you guys to have to leave early on my account,” Renjun said, small.

Jeno shifted, pulling in front of Donghyuck. He reached out, hesitating a moment before clasping his hand on Renjun’s shoulder and squeezing it, light.

“Let Hyuck walk you back, ‘kay?” Jeno waited for Renjun to turn to him and acknowledge him before he looked back to Donghyuck, “I’m gonna check on Jaemin. I’ll make sure he’s not doing anything he’ll regret tomorrow.”

Donghyuck nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was futile, that Jaemin had already crossed that line.

Donghyuck followed Renjun to the front of the frat, Mark trailing behind them as they pushed through laughing, dancing, jubilant people. He pretended not to notice the tremor in Renjun’s shoulders, because Renjun wouldn’t have wanted him to comment on it, but he felt useless. He felt far too drunk, far too ill equipped to handle the situation. More than anything, he felt at fault. Donghyuck had told Jaemin not to go to Renjun. It had been Donghyuck, his shitty advice, his curse .

They finally pushed their way through the frat’s front gate and Renjun wordlessly collapsed onto the sidewalk curb. Donghyuck shot Mark a glance, before looking back down and kneeling, wobbly, by Renjun. Renjun dropped his head into his hands.

Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he was crying or not. No sounds were escaping him. His shoulders rose and fell quickly, as he took short breaths. It seemed like a fragile moment. One wrong move from Donghyuck, and Renjun would shatter into a million pieces.

Donghyuck swallowed around the lump in his throat, shuffled forward on the concrete curb. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around Renjun’s shoulders, enveloping him, taking utmost care not to be to harsh and possibly break him. Maybe Donghyuck didn’t have to say anything, and risk saying it wrong. Maybe he could just hug Renjun. He could just let him know he wasn’t alone, and that would be enough.

He heard as Renjun’s breathing snagged, his shoulders stilling for a moment. A moment later, Renjun was raising his head from his hands. His face was blotchy, pink. But his cheeks were dry. He wasn’t crying, as he shifted, moved and slipped his arms under Donghyuck’s. He leaned forward, and dropped his head onto Donghyuck’s shoulder as he returned the hug.

Donghyuck couldn’t remember the last time Renjun hadn’t pushed him off immediately after he’d tried to hug him. He couldn’t remember if Renjun had ever actually hugged him back. It was almost scary, that it was happening then. He waited, quietly, for Renjun to speak.

When he did, his voice was stuffy, congested.

“I don’t even fucking know why I’m — ” Renjun cut himself off.

He pulled back from Donghyuck, out of the hug. Donghyuck watched, helpless, his heart aching. Renjun pressed his pinkie finger to the corner of his eyes, one after the other, checking it after, undoubtedly looking for signs of tears. He sniffed at whatever he’d seen.

He lowered his hand, his expression going distant. Renjun wouldn’t look at Donghyuck, as he said, “I should be used to it by now, right?”

Donghyuck didn’t have anything even approaching an answer for Renjun. Renjun tilted his head back, pointing his face towards the sky, where the moon loomed big and bright. Its light tinted the whole sky blue beyond the dark silhouettes of the city’s skyscrapers.

“It’s just. Sometimes he really makes it seem like he means the things he says,” Renjun said, sounding as though the words were wrenched from him, “He really makes me feel like I’m special to him. Then he goes and does something like this and I remember that I’m just another… ”

Renjun trailed off, as a pack of people pushed out from the frat gate behind them, laughing, joking about some stupid dance move one of them had done. Renjun’s shoulders stiffened, until long after their voices had faded into the distance. Donghyuck waited, silent.

Finally, Renjun continued. His voice had grown, if possible, even smaller.

“Y’know, he texted me a few hours ago saying he couldn’t wait to see me at the party tonight? He asked if I’d save a dance for him. It’s stupid, Hyuck, I know it is, but I thought that meant something.”

“It does mean something,” Donghyuck insisted, unable to keep quiet any longer.

“Hyuck,” Renjun lowered his gaze to Donghyuck, “The first time I saw him tonight he was sucking face with some stranger in khakis. It meant nothing.”

“Jaemin’s a fucking idiot,” Donghyuck hissed, feeling frustrated. Though it was more with himself than anyone else.

He was the idiot. What kind of person went and cast a fucking curse on themselves, not even thinking about the consequences, not even considering the impact it might have on anyone else? It wasn’t just stupid. It was selfish. Donghyuck was a selfish idiot.

“Maybe,” the corners of Renjun’s lips twitched up in a short-lived, wobbly smile, “But I’m the one who went and fell for him anyways.”

“You guys really need to talk. Just… please,” Donghyuck pleaded, vaguely aware how slurred his words were, “You’ll both be happy if you just talk .”

“Hyuck, talking to him’s not gonna make me happy. I don’t even think I can see him right now,” Renjun shook his head. He pushed up off the curb, his movements elegant even through Donghyuck knew he’d drunk his fair share too.

“My aunt and uncle live in town. I think I’m just gonna crash at theirs for rest of the weekend.”

Donghyuck’s heart sunk. He couldn’t find it in himself to push Renjun to stay, though. Not when he was uncertain about where Jaemin would be that night, or even what state he’d be in.

“Let us walk you,” Donghyuck insisted, “It’s not safe this late.”

He tried to push himself up to, didn’t manage to do with half as much composure as Renjun had. He felt a hand on the small of his back though, steadying him before he even wobbled, then slipping off as soon as he’d found his footing. Donghyuck glanced at Mark, feeling grateful.

Mark’s gaze looked distant, thoughtful, as he stared at Donghyuck. Donghyuck had to think this kind of thing wasn’t the sort they taught their demons in Hell.

“I don’t know, Hyuck. It’s kind of a hike from here. I don’t want you two going that far out of your way…” Renjun trailed off, his voice small.

“It’s no trouble!” Donghyuck said, though his head felt fuzzy, “Really! Mark here’s really good at normal human walking.”

“He’s right. I am,” Mark nodded. He was still looking at Donghyuck with that same considering expression. For some reason, his gaze made Donghyuck feel prickly. He felt hyperaware of Mark’s eyes on him..

“Huh,” Renjun’s smile was smaller, but this one looked genuinely amused, “That’s encouraging, I guess. Thanks, you guys.”

It took an hour, in all. There was the walk from the frat to a bus stop. The wait, the actual bus ride, and then back again. Renjun only said a scant few words the whole time, and only when Donghyuck prompted him. As time passed and the distance between them and the party grew, Renjun seemed to retreat within himself.

Donghyuck felt useless. Nothing he tried to cheer Renjun up worked.

To make matters worse, not even moments after they’d dropped Renjun off at a modern looking mini-mansion in the heart of the city, with the assurance that Renjun’s cousin was still up and could let him in, Donghyuck got a text. Jeno messaged him saying that Jaemin wasn’t in a good state, that he hadn’t taken care of himself. Jeno was going to take him back to his dorm and look over him for the night, just to be safe.

Donghyuck felt useless. Jaemin was hurting and he’d just let it happen. He could have put a stop to it.

On the way back to the dorm, Donghyuck admitted what he’d been thinking, ever since he hugged Renjun on the curb.

“Maybe I need to start looking for a way to break this curse,” he spoke, soft. He was focusing hard on keeping his steps stable and even, as exhaustion caught up with him and compounded with his drunken imbalance.

Mark made a vague noise in response. He’d become even less wordy in the wake of witnessing Renjun’s moonlit confession.

“Donghyuck,” Mark started, out of nowhere, when they reached his dorm room, “it’s not your fault, what happened tonight.”

Donghyuck snorted, without any real humor. He stalked forward and unceremoniously collapsed onto his bed. Mark was being ridiculous. Donghyuck had let Jaemin wander off, Donghyuck had let him drink too much, Donghyuck hadn’t shielded Renjun from walking in on Jaemin and the other guy.

“Are you just gonna…” Mark trailed off, leaving his question unfinished.

Donghyuck raised his head, just enough to give him a questioning look. Mark was standing in the middle of the room, looking unsure.

“Your shoes,” Mark said, before pointing at them.

Donghyuck glanced down. He supposed Mark had a point. He probably shouldn’t sleep with his boots on. But Donghyuck was drained. He stared at them, blankly, willing them to just take themselves off and hop off his bed for him, until he felt the bed shift underneath him.

Mark sat down, at the other end of the bed. Donghyuck pushed himself up onto his elbows to stare, uncomprehending, as Mark drew one of Donghyuck’s feet onto his lap and started to unlace his boot.

Oh, Donghyuck thought. Oh.

He watched Mark work, keeping as silent and still as if he was under a spell, not sure if this was some sort of vivid hallucination or if Mark was actually taking off his shoes for him.

His eyes tracked Mark’s fingers, pale in the darkened room. Mark was taking his time, taking more care than Donghyuck would have expected. Mark just ripped his own boots off every night before crawling under the covers with Donghyuck.

Mark pulled off the first boot, bent over to drop it on the ground by the bedpost. Before drawing the other boot into his lap, he looked at Donghyuck, his expression indiscernible in the shadows. Donghyuck’s heart thudded, in his chest. It was beating so fast, so loud he feared Mark might be able to hear it, all the way across the bed.

“Curses can tempt people down the wrong path. They can lead you astray. But they can’t ever decide for you,” Mark spoke evenly, low. A murmur, “That’s the first thing we learned, down below. Free will is indomitable. All the dark magic in the world couldn’t overcome it.”

“Indomitable,” Donghyuck sounded out, slow, not quite comprehending.

Mark hummed, as he turned back to Donghyuck’s boot. Again, he undid its laces almost agonizingly slowly, with far more care than Donghyuck thought the task warranted.

“Even if the curse affected Jaemin, he had to make the decision to go after that guy on his own. It’s not your fault.”

Mark’s words couldn’t wash all of Donghyuck’s guilt away, not by a long shot. But just hearing Mark say that it wasn’t his fault was enough to alleviate some of the ache in Donghyuck’s chest. Even if Mark was lying, just hearing him say that helped more than Donghyuck could even understand.

He let out an exhale, imagining he was expelling some of that guilt Mark had just dislodged from within him. Mark looked up at Donghyuck, as he slid off his other boot, and set it by its partner, completing the pair.

“Jeno’s not going to be back tonight,” Donghyuck said, suddenly, “you could sleep in his bed, if you wanted.”

You don’t have to share with me, Donghyuck didn’t have to add. It might have been futile, but Donghyuck wanted nothing more than for Mark to turn down the offer.

“That’s fine,” Mark answered, some foreign, unfamiliar note entering his voice, “I’m fine with the— the current situation.”

Donghyuck felt a weight he hadn’t even known was on his chest ease off. He breathed easier, feeling the beginnings of a smile rise to his lips.

“Can we sleep without the pillow between us? Just for tonight?”

Donghyuck knew he was pushing it. He knew he risked making Mark flee again. But his inhibitions were so lowered as to be barely existent, and it seemed as if Mark was the only thing in his life right then where he had the slightest bit of good luck.

Donghyuck felt heat flood his cheeks as Mark stared at him, that inscrutable look on his face.

“Okay,” Mark said, after a long moment where Donghyuck could’ve sworn he could hear the beat of his heart filling the silent room, “I— yeah. We can, for tonight.”
Donghyuck’s smile grew more secure, as relief filled him and his face heated up even more.

Mark toed off his own boots, carelessly threw them to the ground, haphazard compared to how he’d set Donghyuck’s boots down. He cast his jacket onto the ground, then crawled under the covers. His breathing was so silent, Donghyuck almost suspected he was holding his breath. He turned to face Donghyuck, his eyes glinting in the dark.

Donghyuck huffed a light laugh. Without a moment’s deliberation, he reached forward and, with both hands, gently drew off Mark’s beanie. If Mark could take off his boots, he could return the favor.

Mark blinked, and Donghyuck at last caught the sound of his breathing, as it hitched in his throat. Donghyuck brought the hat down, to hold between them. Unthinking, he ran his thumb and finger over the fabric. It was still warm.

“Hey. Tell me something,” Donghyuck murmured. His eyelids were starting to grow heavy, as he fought off sleep. He remembered his manners, and tacked on a, “Please.”

He really was trying to stay awake. As awful as the night had gone, as atrocious as nearly every moment had went, Donghyuck felt a brief moment of happiness, of contentment, as he lay there, facing Mark. He wished the moment could go stretch for hours.

“Anything?” Mark’s voice sounded different. He didn’t seem to be having any trouble staying awake.

“Something about you,” Donghyuck amended, with a faint smile.

He’d spent nearly every moment of his time with Mark since he’d first summoned him, waking and asleep, but he still knew barely nothing about him. Mark was a demon who loved the cold. Mark was endearingly awkward, and unexpectedly thoughtful. Mark had the unparalleled ability to make Donghyuck’s heart race and his face heat up. And that was the extent of Donghyuck’s knowledge.

Donghyuck only caught it because he was staring, but he saw Mark’s gaze flick down. His eyes went to Donghyuck’s mouth, just for a split second, just barely, before looking back to Donghyuck’s eyes. It had happened so quick, Donghyuck was almost sure he’d imagined it.

“Black really is my favorite color to wear,” Mark started.

Donghyuck’s smile widened. He sensed a ‘but’ coming.

“But black isn’t my favorite color.”

“Oh?”

Donghyuck was already glad he’d asked. Mark sighed, minutely, but he shook his head. His hair flopped about his ears, and his bangs fell into his eyes.

“It’s, uh,” Mark reached up, brushed his bangs aside, revealing his gaze, his eyes. Donghyuck could see them clearly, with the moonlight streaming in from the dorm window reflecting off them, making them bright.

“It’s pink.”

Donghyuck probably should’ve at least feigned shock. But, somehow, it suited Mark.

“Why pink?” he asked, just barely forcing out the sounds. The blurry feeling he’d been inundated with since the party had taken on a warmer tinge. It felt like he was enveloped in warmth.

“Why? I don’t know. I never really thought about it,” Mark’s voice was a lull. If Donghyuck focused on it, he could almost forget why he felt so awful. So Donghyuck focused on it. He gave up on fighting to keep his eyes open, and closed them.

“Pink’s pretty, I guess. It’s… soft. There’s not a lot like that, where I’m from.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck smiled, as he neared unconsciousness, as the world, all of its worries and mistakes, retreated. He could feel Mark’s presence in front of him, just barely. The warmth radiating off of him. He nestled closer.

“Soft,” Donghyuck repeated, liking the sound of the word, though not nearly as much as he’d liked it when Mark had said it.

Mark laughed, though it was subdued enough not to draw Donghyuck awake. The last thing Donghyuck was aware of before he drifted off was Mark murmuring a soft, “‘Night, Donghyuck”.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck awoke and instantly wished to be knocked right out again. His head felt compressed, as though someone had it pressed tight between their palms. Just the small amount of morning light streaming in through the dorm window’s drawn blinds aggravated the ache. His mouth felt as though it was stuffed with cotton, and he felt coated in a layer of grime, in and out.

He squeezed his eyes even tighter, though he could feel the light’s presence, the bare knowledge of its existence worsening his hangover.

There was another sensation, though. Something underneath the overwhelming annoyance of his hangover. Something warm at his back. An arm, curled around his torso. Donghyuck blinked his eyes open, squinting against the sun’s faint light. There was something warm, solid, pressed to the base of the back of his neck.

Donghyuck froze, his heart skipping a beat, as he connected the warm presence at his back with Mark. He glanced down. His heart skipped a beat, as he saw Mark’s arm wrapped around him. His skin was pale against the deep crimson of Donghyuck’s velvet shirt, striking in contrast.

Donghyuck had a stupid, nonsensical thought. That maybe it was worth the hangover – maybe he’d take the same headache every morning, if it meant waking up like this.

He backtracked a moment later, as another surge of dull pain forced his eyes closed again. Maybe Donghyuck could find another way to wake up to Mark spooning him that didn’t involve an Everclear hangover.

A wave of nausea washed over Donghyuck and, as gently as he was able, feeling all the regret in the world, he lifted Mark’s arm and slipped out from under it. In his bare feet, he staggered across the dorm, then across the hall outside, into the communal bathroom.

Donghyuck splashed his face with the frigid water from the sink faucet. After staring at his haggard reflection in mutual dislike for a minute, Donghyuck felt stable enough to attempt the trek back to his dorm. He hoped that Mark would still be asleep, that he could slip back under the covers and into his arms again, with him none the wiser.

But Mark had awoken. Despite having his hopes dashed, Donghyuck had to smile at the sight that greeted him.

Mark was sitting up, his shoulders slumped forward. He gazed out at seemingly nothing. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, rimmed with eyeliner that had gone even more smudged than usual. His hair was a messy tuft of black atop his head. He looked up as Donghyuck drew into the room.

“Donghyuck,” Mark said, his voice bleary.

Donghyuck waited a moment, as he leaned up against the door. When it became apparent that Mark only meant to say his name and nothing beyond that, Donghyuck’s smile grew to a grin.

“Mark,” he returned.

He pushed off the door and crossed the dorm in two strides. The bed was closer to the light streaming in from the window. Going to it worsened his headache, but Donghyuck couldn’t find it within him to mind. He climbed back onto the bed, seating himself at Mark’s feet.

“We’ve got a lot of stuff to do today,” Donghyuck said.

Though Donghyuck felt nerves at the prospect of the tasks that lay in front of him that day, he also felt overwarm, fluttery, almost feverish. It might have been from the hangover. He hoped it was. But the sensation grew as he watched Mark’s gaze travel up the length of him. His eyes tracked him, from his toes all the way to his eyes. Checking him out.

“How are you feeling?” Mark asked, his brows drawing together. Making Donghyuck’s heart sink with one question, because of course that was why Mark had been checking him out.

“I’ve had worse hangovers,” Donghyuck undersold it. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt this off . And he’d only had three drinks, “But we’ve got shit to do! We can stop by the store and pick up snacks and medicine while we’re out.”

“Out?” Mark repeated, cocking his head. As he tilted his head, Donghyuck noticed red lines criss-crossing his cheek, marks from laying on the creases of the pillow they’d shared.

Donghyuck felt a surge of unbidden fondness for the demon in front of him. He wished he could stop time and just stay there, in that moment, in that soft Sunday morning space. He wished he hadn’t messed up the night before, that his friends weren’t hurting because of him, that he didn’t have a curse to break or a hangover to cure or finals he really ought to have been studying for weeks back.

Donghyuck nodded in confirmation to Mark’s question. Because wishes required more than magic, and Donghyuck couldn’t sit around waiting for things to right themselves.

“What’s that look mean?” Mark asked. He gazed at Donghyuck questioningly, but he had the beginnings of a smile lifting the corners of his lips. Donghyuck smiled back at him.

“Just thinking about how much I like having you tag along all the time,” Donghyuck admitted, unabashed.

“Oh,” Mark sounded. There was silence, for a stretch. Donghyuck felt a sensation not unlike the nausea from earlier as the tentative smile slipped from Mark’s face, “Donghyuck, after you’ve broken the curse, I’m not sure – .”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Donghyuck grinned, tight.

He knew what breaking the curse meant. He knew that it would change everything. Even if Mark could find him again after the curse was over, Donghyuck wasn’t sure if Mark would want to. He made another wish that would never come true: that Mark would let him pretend, just for a moment.

Donghyuck sighed, shifted. He slipped off his bed, feeling Mark’s eyes on him. He didn’t turn to look at him as he started to gather his toiletries for a morning shower. It didn’t matter. Mark’s face, a mixture of concern and something entirely beyond Donghyuck’s ability to discern, was seared onto his mind.

Donghyuck could picture it perfectly, as he said, “Maybe I’ll start trying to figure out how to break the curse when we get back.”

Donghyuck felt inadequate, as he sat at Renjun’s aunt and uncle’s dining room table, a cup of steaming tea in front of him. Renjun was sitting silently across from him, having said perhaps only a dozen sentences since Donghyuck had showed up at the house twenty minutes before. It seemed Renjun’s moment of candor the night before had been fleeting.

He’d snapped back to concealing everything, to pasting on a neutral face. Donghyuck felt awful for only just then realizing that Renjun did care, though he might not have been the best at allowing himself to.

Donghyuck cleared his throat. He didn’t know whether he felt grateful or not that Renjun’s younger, louder cousin had whisked Mark away the moment they’d stepped in the house. He had thought just having the two of them there might make Renjun more likely to open up, but Donghyuck was feeling the need for moral support.

“So,” Donghyuck started, trying not to wince as Renjun’s brow twitched, “How is it spending some time with your family? It’s gotta be nice, especially right before finals.”

Renjun pressed his lips together, before raising his tea cup to his lips. He took a sip, slow, before answering Donghyuck’s question.

“It is nice, yeah,” Renjun said. Donghyuck was relieved to hear that his voice, though small, was strong.

“I think Chenle’s figured out I’m not having the best time right now, though. He’s being thoughtful, asking me if he can help me study and stuff,” Renjun’s eyes strayed up, pointing presumably at the floor above, where Chenle and Mark were, “It’s kind of suspicious, now that I think about it.”

Donghyuck thought about what little he knew of Renjun’s cousin. He seemed like a sweetheart, but Renjun was overly suspicious of everyone’s intentions. Donghyuck shook his head.

“I’m sure he’s just being nice,” Donghyuck propped his elbow up on the table. He rested his chin on his hand, “You deserve that, at least, after...”

Renjun let out a sharp exhale. His eyes fell from Donghyuck, down to the tea cup in his hands. Donghyuck felt a spike of fear. He really needed to start thinking before he spoke.

There passed a long moment where he feared he’d angered Renjun or, worse, made him sad. Then Renjun raised his gaze to look at him, as he set down his tea cup gently enough to prevent a single sound from being made.

“Just ask, Hyuck,” Renjun said, “Just ask whatever it is you want to. I’ll answer.”

Donghyuck hesitated, unsure of where to begin. He was brimming with questions, and he wasn’t sure how Renjun would take to hearing any of them.

Renjun must have sensed his unease, because he smiled, soft, and continued, “I already embarrassed myself in front of you and your boyfriend last night. I think I can be a little honest with you.”

Donghyuck let the boyfriend thing pass. He frowned at Renjun.

“You didn’t embarrass yourself.”

Renjun scoffed. He ran his finger around the rim of his mug, seemingly without thought. The subtle movement drew Donghyuck’s eye down, before Renjun’s next words called Donghyuck’s gaze back up again.

“I had a breakdown in front of a frat house at one in the morning, drunk off shitty punch. All because my best friend was just… being himself. That’s fucking embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” Donghyuck’s said, imploring Renjun to see sense in what he was saying, “It’s not embarrassing to have feelings…. Seriously!” he had to tack on the last bit, as a humorless grin spread across Renjun’s face.

Donghyuck leaned forward, “Giving a shit, opening yourself up to others and letting them into your heart like that… It’s part of being human, Renjun. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Renjun’s finger stilled.

“It is for me,” he said, quiet. He sighed, “You wouldn’t get it, Hyuck. I’m not trying to be rude, but you get everything you want – you would think being open about shit like this leads only to happy endings. That’s all you’ve ever had.”

Donghyuck knew Renjun was hurting. He knew that Renjun meant what he’d said – that he wasn’t trying to be rude. Donghyuck knew it would be a bad idea to open his mouth, that he should just stay silent, but…

“I don’t get everything I want,” he said. He was grateful that he’d managed to subsume the frustration in his voice at least, that he had kept it low, careful.

Renjun made a sound in the back of his throat, gazing at Donghyuck with disbelief.

“You’ve got a doting boyfriend who follows your every whim,” Renjun spat, his voice rising, “Mark looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Your life looks pretty perfect to me.”

Donghyuck tightened his grip on his tea cup, instinctively. He didn’t even know what Renjun was talking about, with the stars thing. But Mark wasn’t his boyfriend. Mark wasn’t even his friend. Mark was his demon, and Donghyuck’s days with him were numbered. Donghyuck wasn’t going to get what he wanted, not this time.

He couldn’t say anything to defend himself, though. Renjun was upset. He was probably saying shit without even thinking about it, and Donghyuck needed to try and help him. It wasn’t fucking fair, but Donghyuck should try harder at getting used to that. He was cursed. Fairness wasn’t in the cards for him.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck managed, “I guess it does look that way.”

Renjun didn’t look happy to be right. He slumped back in his chair.

“I’m sorry,” his voice went quiet again, “I’m just – I’m so damn tired. Of everything.”

“I know,” was all Donghyuck could say, knowing full well that he was half the reason why Renjun felt so tired, “I’m sorry, too.”

Donghyuck wasn’t able to cheer Renjun up. He wasn’t able to bring a real, genuine smile to his face by the time he and Mark had to leave.

“How’d it go?” Mark asked, as they walked from Renjun’s place to the bus stop.

The sun was streaming, batting down on Donghyuck’s head, feeling like a physical weight on him. He shrugged.

“It could’ve gone better,” he admitted.

His only consolation was that he’d managed to restrain himself for once. He hadn’t said the first thing that came to mind, and he and Renjun’s uneasy conversation hadn’t devolved into a full blown fight. That was the last thing their friend group needed.

“Renjun’s kinda… sensitive right now, I think,” Donghyuck explained. Mark nodded, his expression thoughtful, and Donghyuck swapped the subject, “How was it with his cousin?”

At the mere mention of the boy, Mark’s face lit up. He grinned, wide. Donghyuck almost felt he had to squint, for how bright he looked.

“The kid spent the whole time showing me his favorite YouTube videos,” Mark shook his head, “He’s got an even weirder sense of humor than you, I think. Really sweet, though. I don’t want to call him an angel, ‘cause most of those guys are assholes but I’m pretty sure Chenle’s what angels wish they were.”

Donghyuck felt his mood rise as Mark beamed at him. Their shoulders kept brushing up against each other. Admittedly, that might have been a side effect of not looking straight ahead but, rather, at each other. Every time Mark’s shoulder made slight contact with his, Donghyuck could almost feel his heart react.

“Angels are assholes?” Donghyuck asked. He just wanted to hear Mark speak more, whether it be about asshole angels or angelic teens.

He wasn’t sure if it was Mark’s words or just being with Mark but Donghyuck began to smile back at him, as they drew up to the bus stop that’d take them back to campus.

Mark laughed, and started to explain his comment in-depth. Throughout the bus ride, the missed connections, the time spent waiting for a delayed bus arrival, he recounted his past encounters with angels. It wasn’t that they were intentionally asses, he said, prompting a laugh from Donghyuck. They just were taught to believe they were perfect, flawless, better than people, and the opposite of Underworlders like Mark.

By the time the sun had reached its peak in the sky, as they sat in wait for their second delayed connection of the day, Donghyuck’s headache was nearly gone. He still felt a little queasy, almost cottony, definitely off . But Mark had the uncanny ability to make him forget about all that as he spoke. He gesticulated wildly as he talked. Donghyuck watched, in dawning amusement, his eyes drawn to Mark’s hands. His gaze was drawn to Mark’s nail polish. It was chipped, less neat than it had been that first day.

An inkling of an idea grew in Donghyuck’s head, as he recalled their conversation the night before, the last words they had traded before Donghyuck had fallen asleep.

“Hey,” Donghyuck blurted out, on impulse, in the midst of a lull of the conversation, “I’m gonna run to that pharmacy down the street really quick. Come with me?”

Mark shrugged, nonplussed. Their bus was nowhere in sight, anyways.

By the time they came back to the bus stop, though, it had came and went. They managed to walk up just as it was driving off. Donghyuck sighed, as he watched it depart, unwilling to chase after it. He supposed he could stand waiting twenty-five minutes for the next one.

Donghyuck tugged the plastic bag from the pharmacy tight to his chest, not letting Mark catch a glimpse at what was inside. It wasn’t anything special, really. Just a tiny bottle of nail lacquer, in the shade ‘blush pink’. Nothing normally worth missing a bus over, if Donghyuck was being honest with himself.

But if Mark had to go back to hell, Donghyuck was determined that he would have something soft and pretty to take back with him.

When they reached Donghyuck’s dorm building, Donghyuck handed Mark his keys and told him to head up to the room, that he’d be right there in a bit. Mark paused, glanced up from the keys with an unsure look on his face, but he nodded.

Donghyuck was left alone in the hall, staring at the door to Jaemin and Renjun’s dorm. He sucked in a breath. He didn’t know what to expect within it. Feeling inexplicably nervous, he knocked just twice, soft, hesitant. Then waited.

Moments later, the door cracked open. Donghyuck felt relieved to see Jeno on the other side, his hair ruffled and a pair of reading glasses perched atop his nose.

“Hyuck?” he asked, squinting behind his glasses.

Donghyuck peered around him, into the dorm room. It was dark. The only light source within it was a lone lamp lit over a desk. The desk was covered with scattered papers and several cups of markers, pens, and paintbrushes. Donghyuck knew it had to be Renjun’s.

Jeno turned back, following his gaze. He sniffed, a little damp, before saying, “Oh. Yeah. Just trying to get some studying done while Jaemin sleeps off last night.”

Donghyuck eyed Jeno, wondering if he was imagining it, or if he sounded congested.

“Is he okay?” Donghyuck asked.

As stupid as Jaemin been the night before, Donghyuck was still worried about him. He didn’t even know how much Jaemin had drunk the night before or how sick he must have been, after.

Jeno sighed.

“Dunno,” he looked back Donghyuck. Donghyuck felt his heart clench, at the tension written on Jeno’s face. It took a lot to get Jeno frustrated.

“Physically… I think he’s good,” Jeno shook his head, “Pretty sure he puked up everything he’d eaten this past week on that frat’s front lawn, but, yeah.”

Donghyuck winced, clenching his hand tighter in the bag he’d gotten from the pharmacy, hearing the plastic crinkle. He felt that insipid guilt again, cold, cloying. He should’ve remembered to pick up something for Jaemin.

“He doesn’t know why Renjun left the party last night,” Jeno continued, “After I went to make sure he was okay, he kept asking if I knew where Renjun was. His friend got kinda pissed.”

Donghyuck stared at him, uncomprehending, for a moment. Then, it clicked.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Jeno’s gaze turned softer.

“Should I?” he asked, “If I do, it’s as good as telling him how Renjun feels about him, right?”

Donghyuck thought on it for a moment. Renjun’s reaction to Jaemin hooking up with that guy was a dead giveaway. He doubted even Jaemin could misinterpret it.

“He’s going to wake up and wonder where Renjun disappeared to,” Donghyuck pointed out.

He just wanted his friends to get over themselves, to stop hurting each other and realize that their hurt was needless, that their feelings were reciprocated. He wondered if that was even possible, with the curse hanging over all their heads.

Jeno shrugged.

“Maybe he’ll be curious enough to ask Renjun himself.”

And, oh, Jeno was onto something there. Jaemin probably would do exactly that. Donghyuck had to smile, feeling hope rise within him for the first time since he’d woken that morning.

“Jeno Lee,” Donghyuck whistled, impressed, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Had what?” Jeno asked, his nose crinkling as he frowned, “Hyuck, what are you talking about?”

It was equally impressive how confused he’d managed to look, though Donghyuck couldn’t quite fathom who he was acting dumb for, when it was only the two of them.

Donghyuck thought Jeno’s plan might just work, though. He felt his hope fluttering in him, something small yet persistent, unable to be suppressed. If Jaemin and Renjun actually talked, actually communicated openly for once, he couldn’t see what harm that would do. Donghyuck beamed at Jeno, grateful for his unexpected quick thinking.

He looked past Jeno, at the vague form of Jaemin laying underneath a pile of blankets on his bed. He was still, but he might’ve been awake and just immobilized from his hangover. Perhaps Jeno was acting just in the case of that possibility.

Donghyuck turned back to Jeno.

“Gotcha,” Donghyuck whispered, before winking at him, following Jeno’s lead and staying cautious.

Jeno only looked more confused. Donghyuck laughed, light, giddy, as he backed up and began to head back to the stairs.

It was Jeno’s plan, that small prospect of maybe Jaemin waking and deciding to actually reach out to Renjun, that lifted Donghyuck’s mood. That slight spot of hope appearing on the horizon was all Donghyuck needed.

Donghyuck knocked on the door to his dorm, ducking right under Mark’s arm after he opened it. Donghyuck smiled at Mark, letting that brief fluttering of hope persist. Mark smiled back, though it was unsure.

“Donghyuck,” he greeted.

Donghyuck strode past him, making a beeline directly to his closet. Donghyuck hummed in acknowledgement, before dropping to his knees. He rifled through the cardboard boxes of miscellaneous accessories and abandoned skincare routine products he kept by his shoe rack at the bottom of his closet. He almost longed for the organization of Renjun’s dorm, before realizing how much upkeep that would require, and deciding he’d make do with his own messy system.

“Uh,” Mark said, “What’s up? Are you going to work on the curse right now? Or are you going to study for your exams first?“

“Neither,” Donghyuck intoned, as he leaned forward, almost shoulder-deep in the biggest of the cardboard boxes.

He knew he had nail polish remover somewhere. At least, he hoped he did. He couldn’t very well make Mark’s nails look pretty without removing the chipped polish first.

“Oh,” Mark said.

Donghyuck grinned. He didn’t even have to turn around to tell that Mark looked completely perplexed. He could hear it in his voice, he could imagine it vividly. He found the remover, finally. And, right beside it, squished between a hair straightener he’d never used and a stuffed teddy bear he’d totally forgotten he’d brought to college was a little baggie of cotton balls he’d stolen from under his mother’s sink.

Donghyuck stood up, turned around.

“We’ll get around to both of those,” he promised, “...eventually.”

Mark nodded. His eyes flitted down to Donghyuck’s hands, where he was holding the nail polish remover, the cotton balls, and the plastic bag with the polish inside.

“Uh huh,” Mark said, though it sounded as though he wasn’t following, at all.

Donghyuck’s smile softened. Even though Mark was confused, he was still willing to go along with Donghyuck’s change in plans.

Donghyuck knew he was acting irrationally. It might have even been selfish, taking the time to do this when he could be looking for ways to break the curse. But he had to. If his time with Mark was limited, if he never saw Mark again after the curse was over, he was determined to make their last days together count for something.

And maybe, deep down, a small, insolent part of him was determined that Mark would have something to remember him by, when he went back to hell and left Donghyuck behind. Painted nails wasn’t something grand, or something that would last. But it was something, and it was the only thing Donghyuck could think to give him.

As Donghyuck pondered how temporary his gesture might be, he became aware of an odd sensation in his chest. It was nothing like the breakneck pace of his heartbeat when Mark had saved him from the frat guy, and it was nothing like the soft warmth he’d felt as Mark had taken off his boots for him.

It was a painful sensation. A petrified feeling. It was almost as though he was in one of those old myths. He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. It was as though he’d looked Medusa in the eye but, instead of turning instantly to stone, the petrification was slow, gradual. From the inside out.

Donghyuck shook his head at his own thoughts. That was ridiculous. The feeling was probably him still feeling ill from his hangover.

“First, I’m gonna do something about those nails of yours,” he said, aiming for a bright tone, unsure at how well he’d managed to pull it off.

He walked forward, taking Mark by the hand so he could focus his gaze on that, instead of Mark’s face. He feared Mark might pick up on his odd feeling, so he feigned normalcy.

Mark allowed himself to be pulled forward, stayed quiet as Donghyuck toed off his sneakers and climbed onto his bed. Mark kicked off his boots and joined Donghyuck, drawing his legs up, folding them. He stared at Donghyuck, still looking lost.

“You’re going to do what?” Mark asked, sounding lost too.

Donghyuck forced his lips into a smile. He turned over Mark’s hand, pulling it closer to him, before drawing out the polish remover.

“I know you said demons only wear black, but I think this should be okay, right?” Donghyuck thought aloud. He wet a cotton ball with the polish remover, taking care not to spill any on his bed, “Technically, you’re not wearing it, it’s just on your nails, so...”

“Donghyuck,” Mark cut in, stemming Donghyuck’s rambling. Donghyuck paused, looking up from where he’d been about to start removing the chipped polish, inexplicably nervous at what he might see.

Mark was smiling.

“It’s fine. Really. I might’ve exaggerated a little, before,” Mark offered a single shoulder shrug. His eyes were shining, his gaze was warm, “It’s not like there are any rules. Not against this kind of thing, anyways.”

“Huh,” Donghyuck exhaled, relieved, “that’s good.”

The truth was that he didn’t care about the rules. He just cared about how Mark would react, and Mark’s reaction seemed encouraging.

Donghyuck felt some of the ache alleviate as he looked back down from Mark. He started to wipe the remnant of polish from Mark’s fingernails, because that was easier than thinking too hard on the odd feeling within him.

Mark kept statue-still as Donghyuck worked. Donghyuck went slow, scrubbing hard to get every last trace of the polish off of each nail. Mark’s hand was warm to the touch, especially in contrast to the cool air within the dorm. Donghyuck wondered how it was that Mark managed not to react with each press of the cold, wet cotton to his skin. He knew, had their positions been swapped, he would have twitched every time.

“So,” Mark cleared his throat, “Do I get to choose what color I’m getting, or do you already have one in mind?”

Donghyuck’s lips curled up into a small smile.

“Why don’t you check for yourself?”

He released Mark’s hand. He laid it down on his knee, careful, before picking up the other one.

He heard the bag rustle, followed soon by a huff of laughter.

“Of course,” Mark said, simply.

“Soft enough for you?” he asked, unable to stand the suspense of waiting for Mark’s opinion on getting pink nails.

“Mm-hm,” Mark hummed, then, in an off-hand voice, “Pretty, too.”

Donghyuck’s eyes were drawn up. Mark wasn’t looking at the bottle of polish. He was still smiling, though it had gone lopsided. He was looking at Donghyuck but, as Donghyuck’s gaze met his, Mark’s eyes dropped back down. Mark extended his hand, the polish in it.

Donghyuck took the bottle from him.

“Yeah. That too,” he said, faint. He tried not to shiver as his sensitive fingertips brushed up against Mark’s calloused, tough palm.

He wondered if he’d just looked up at the precise moment Mark had turned to him, or if Mark had been looking at him all along, the whole time Dongyhuck had been removing his nail polish. He wondered what that meant, if it meant anything at all. He wondered why this, of all things, was only adding to that petrified feeling.

After Donghyuck had finished with the first coat of polish and they were sitting, waiting for Mark’s nails to dry so he could start in on the next, Mark raised his hands. Donghyuck watched, filled with swirling, cascading thoughts. He felt a sense of gnawing ache as Mark smiled, as he examined his newly pink nails in the light.

“My friends are going to love this,” Mark said. There was a note of something warm in his voice, something Donghyuck wasn’t sure he had ever heard there before.

“Just your friends, huh?” Donghyuck teased.

Mark’s eyes slid from his nails to Donghyuck. His smile broadened.

“Alright,” Mark said, lowering his hands, leaving Donghyuck to face the full force of his goofy, lopsided grin, “I kinda like ‘em too.”

It was then that Donghyuck decided he hadn’t fully recovered from his hangover, after all. He was definitely still feeling it, because there was no other rational explanation for the sudden spiking ache in him.

Mark’s eyes widened. The corners of Mark’s lips dipped down, concealing all but the tips his fangs.

“Donghyuck, are you feeling okay? You look kinda…” Mark said, which just added to the embarrassment of the whole situation.

“I feel ‘kinda’,” Donghyuck grumbled.

He reached out to catch Mark’s hand and bring it forward. Donghyuck would be able to clear his mind if he just focused on painting Mark’s nails, he told himself, though he wasn’t sure how true that was.

As Mark’s nails dried, Donghyuck sent a text to Renjun asking how he was doing. He got a short ‘shouldn’t you be studying’ in reply. Then, before Donghyuck could even tap out a letter of his reply, another message followed: ‘and i’m doing fine.’.

Donghyuck stared down at the message, at the period at the end of it, wondering what he’d done to annoy Renjun this time. A third message popped up, though, thankfully. ‘doing better*’ .

Donghyuck had to smile, at that small allowance of honesty from Renjun. It felt like a small miracle, considering how rarely Renjun admitted when he was feeling down at all.

“Good news?”

Donghyuck looked up from his phone, to see Mark gazing at him from across the expanse of the bed. His legs were folded up and his fingers were carefully spread out across his knees, probably so he wouldn’t mess up Donghyuck’s work. Donghyuck’s smile grew.

“I think so?”

The corner of Mark’s lips quirked up. It was ridiculous that the small, minute action was enough to provoke a twinge in Donghyuck’s chest.

For a beat, Mark and Donghyuck just looked at each other. Mark lopsided grin seemed to have rendered Donghyuck helpless to do anything but keep smiling back at him.

“So… curse breaking?” Mark asked, dashing the moment, souring Donghyuck’s mood in an instant.

Donghyuck’s gaze dropped. He drew up his phone, and let Renjun know how excited he was that Renjun wasn’t letting Jaemin get the best of him.

“Later,” Donghyuck murmured, distracted, “I think I’m going to try studying a bit first.”

By the time Jeno returned to the dorm in the evening, Donghyuck had only managed to work through a third of his review for just one of his finals. He hadn’t even started researching curses.

“Hyuck, what are you doing?” Jeno chastised, just moments after he’d stepped in through the door, before even saying hello.

Jeno still sounded congested. If Donghyuck looked close, he could see a faint flush to Jeno’s nose too. He opened his mouth to ask about it, before Jeno continued.

“Are you really forcing your boyfriend to just sit around and watch you while you study?”

Donghyuck froze, his hands freezing above his laptop keyboard. His eyes slid to Mark. Mark was in a similar state. He was laid out on Donghyuck’s bed, frozen in the midst of leafing through one of Donghyuck’s notebooks. Mark’s eyes were wide as he stared out at Jeno over the notebook’s pages.

“Uh,” Donghyuck started. He looked back to Jeno. Unable to come up with an adequate answer, he could only say a weak, “Yes?”

Jeno sighed, heavy. He shook his head at Donghyuck, looking disappointed. Then, without fanfare, he continued into the dorm. Jeno slung his backpack off his shoulder, onto his bed, and followed it. He landed on the bed with a heavy whump.

Donghyuck glanced to Mark, with uncertainty. Jeno was acting strange. He wondered if it was Renjun and Jaemin, weighing on him, exhausting him, or if there was something in addition to that. Mark looked just as lost as him. He quirked a questioning brow Donghyuck’s way. Donghyuck could only offer a shrug in reply.

Mark rose to a seated position, set the notebook in his hands aside, and cleared his throat.

“I have to go back to Canada soon, so Donghyuck and I are trying to spend all the time we can together...”

Donghyuck let out a small sigh of relief. Mark looked to him, unsure, and Donghyuck nodded at him. Mark’s explanation sounded believable enough, even if it did flare up that aching feeling in Donghyuck chest.

Jeno sat up from his bed, squinting across the room at Donghyuck, then at Mark. He didn’t look all that convinced.

Mark shrugged, before smiling the perfect smile: sweet, just a little self deprecating.

“It doesn’t matter if we’re not actually doing anything. Even if Donghyuck’s just studying and I’m just reading, any time we can spend together is special.”

Donghyuck found himself nodding along with the lie Mark was crafting. It was so believable, and he’d come up with it so quick. If Donghyuck was being honest with himself, Mark’s ability to spin stories about their fake relationship was one of the most confusing things about him.

It was bad enough that Mark looked as cute as he did, that he acted as sweet as he did. Then he had to go and play the convincing boyfriend to Donghyuck. It was starting to give Donghyuck a headache, trying to keep things straight.

Mark looked from Jeno to Donghyuck. As Donghyuck met his eyes, he gave himself a stern reminder that Mark was a demon. He was only on Earth because of a curse. He would be gone soon, and he definitely didn’t have any sort of feelings for Donghyuck.

“Isn’t that right, babe?” Mark then asked. His voice was warm and his smile was warmer.

Donghyuck felt absurdly like laughing, because no amount of stern reminders to himself could possibly stand up to that .

“Yeah,” Donghyuck managed, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, “Yes, that’s right.”

All the while his mind was kept replaying the word ‘babe’, just as Mark had said it. Donghyuck wondered how it had come to this. He wondered when it had stopped being him who made Mark flustered, when that had shifted and swapped. He wondered why he didn’t hate it – why, in fact, he almost liked it.

Jeno shifted on his bed.

“Alright, I guess,” he said, “You should let Hyuck know if he’s boring you, though.”

“Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed, “You don’t have to tell me how to treat Mark. He’s my boyfriend, okay?” He glanced back to Mark, making sure to catch his eye before saying, “I know what he likes.”

Donghyuck was forced to reconsider his thoughts from only seconds before, as a flush started to bloom across Mark’s cheeks, spreading, tinging them red. Then again, maybe Donghyuck would never tire of making Mark flustered.

“Uh… right,” Jeno said, in a distinctly discomfited tone. It was a sudden, brutal reminder Donghyuck that he and Mark were just putting on a facade, really. They were just playing the part for Jeno’s sake.

“You know what? I think I spent too long with Jaemin today. I forgot what actual open communication looks like,” Jeno continued.

Donghyuck winced, regretting getting carried away with the cover story, and regretting getting snappy with Jeno even more.

Jeno was probably just exhausted from taking care of the mess Jaemin had made the night before, worsened by the curse. Donghyuck felt a surge of gratitude for Jeno – while Donghyuck had been getting distracted by Mark, and studying for exams, Jeno was helping fix the problem Donghyuck had helped create.

But Jeno’s sour mood pointed to one conclusion.

“Your plan didn’t work?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno’s eyes flitted to Mark, then back to Donghyuck. He frowned.

“There wasn’t any plan, Hyuck. It was just an idea. But, no, it didn’t.”

Jeno recounted what had happened, over the past few hours. Jaemin had awoken, sick, exhausted, and disoriented. He barely remembered the night before. He had no recollection of Renjun stumbling upon him and the frat guy. But the first thing Jaemin had asked when he’d awoken (right after asking if he was still alive, anyways) was where Renjun had gone.

Jeno had answered and told Jaemin that Renjun was at his family’s house, and elaborated no further. From then, Jaemin had texted Renjun. Renjun had answered simply, saying that he wanted to study for finals and that he’d be less distracted off-campus.

Jaemin had whined about how much he’d miss Renjun while he was away for an hour, apparently, but he’d accepted Renjun’s lackluster answer without question.

After Jeno had finished retelling the afternoon’s events, Donghyuck felt his heart sink. Donghyuck looked back to the review he’d been working on. He was just procrastinating, he realized. Delaying the inevitable. In order to give Jaemin and Renjun the best chance of making the right decision and talking to each other, of working things out and being happy together, Donghyuck would need to break the curse. And he’d need to do it soon.

Donghyuck looked up from his laptop to Mark. Mark was already looking at him. His mouth was twisted, his brows knitted together. As he noticed Donghyuck looking, his features shifted. He offered Donghyuck a smile, small, and it was all Donghyuck could do to give one back.

Donghyuck wondered just how much time they had left, how many more nights, before they had to say goodbye.

Jeno went to bed early that night, claiming tiredness. Donghyuck, feeling much the same, only with guilt stacked on top, followed suit.

It was hardly ten at night, but he lay on his back in his bed. He stared at the ceiling, at the vague mystery stains from students past. Donghyuck felt insane for feeling as attached as he did to Mark. The mere prospect that this might be their last night together made him ache.

Jeno sniffed in his sleep, and Donghyuck was shaken from his thoughts. He glanced to Jeno, wondering. The congestion, the flush to his face, his tiredness… Donghyuck wondered if Jeno was coming down with something. He considered if that, too, was Donghyuck’s fault. Falling ill right before finals was a curse in and of itself.

“Donghyuck,” came a whisper, low.

Donghyuck turned to it, rolling over onto his side to face Mark. It felt like it took longer than usual to focus on him. He had to look for his eyes, gleaming in the dark, to help him out.

“What’s on your mind?” Mark asked, surprising Donghyuck.

“What?”

Mark huffed. He was smiling, Donghyuck realize, the moonlight shining off the tip of one of his fangs. He lifted his hand, and moved as if to poke Donghyuck with it. But he paused, right before the tip of his finger would have made contact with a spot right in the middle of Donghyuck’s forehead, right between his brows.

“You’ve got… worry lines,” Mark said. His voice was a little quieter than it had first sounded.

“Oh,” Donghyuck shook his attention off from Mark’s finger, “Uh, the curse.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Mark withdrew his finger. He curled his hand into a fist, as he drew it back under the covers.

There wasn’t pillow between them. Mark hadn’t put it there that night, and Donghyuck certainly hadn’t tried to, either. But it was almost making it harder for Donghyuck to think things through, knowing that nothing but space separated he and Mark.

“I – I just keep wishing we had more time,” Donghyuck found himself confessing.

Mark inhaled, sharp. The sound was of it was loud when the only other noises that were audible in the room were Jeno’s muffled snores and, Donghyuck feared, the loud thumping of his heart.

Mark was so close. He was close enough that Donghyuck could make out the smallest details of his face, even in the virtual darkness surrounding them. The moonlight cast blurred shadows of Mark’s lashes across his cheeks, as he looked down, then back up to Donghyuck again.

“The more time I spend here, the worse it will get for you,” Mark said.

It was the exact opposite of what Donghyuck wanted to hear. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I know,” he said, “I know you’re bad luck, Mark. I don’t care.”

Mark made a soft sound, and Donghyuck’s eyes snapped open. Mark’s eyes were wide, flooded with moonlight. Donghyuck couldn’t hope to read Mark’s expression.

“I didn’t care, I mean,” Donghyuck corrected, feeling guilty again, “Not when you were just my bad luck.”

“Donghyuck…” Mark started, his voice strained.

Before Mark could say something, perhaps along the lines of being impatient to be rid of Donghyuck already, Donghyuck cut in.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’ll miss you,” Donghyuck admitted. He tried to make it sound less like something grave. He tried to inject some levity in the conversation, “Even if you’re probably the lamest demon ever. God, you can’t even do anything cool like… like possessing people or summoning hellfire.”

Mark’s brow furrowed. He stared at Donghyuck with such intensity that Donghyuck had to force himself not to shy away from his gaze.

“Did you want me to possess someone?”

“I – what? No,” Donghyuck forgot to whisper, with how taken aback he was.

Donghyuck wondered why he even bothered trying to be vaguely subtle about his feelings when it came to Mark, when Mark couldn’t even pick up on glaringly obvious hints.

“Then, why…?”

Donghyuck’s gaze dropped to Mark’s lips, as they moved with every murmur of his. His heartbeat stuttered. He could lean in. It would be so easy bridge the slight space between them. That would be a way to let Mark know he liked him, a sign so obvious that even Mark couldn’t misconstrue it.

Donghyuck became vaguely aware that Mark had stopped talking. He’d gone quiet. Donghyuck’s gaze snapped back up from Mark’s lips. Mark was looking at him, strangely.

Shit, Donghyuck thought.

Donghyuck felt his face flood with heat. Then again, maybe Donghyuck didn’t need to let Mark know how he felt about him, right at that moment. There would always be tomorrow, a small, coaxing voice insisted.

“Actually, nevermind,” Donghyuck said, just barely refraining from letting out a frustrated cry with himself.

Mark nodded at Donghyuck, slow, unsure. Donghyuck forced a smile at him, before blurted out a whispered, “Sleep tight, Mark.”

He turned away from Mark, his face burning. He hunched his shoulders higher as Mark murmured a “‘Night, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck could hear the smile in his voice.

Chapter Text

Monday morning found Donghyuck taking refuge in the library. Once more, he had awoken curled up in Mark’s arms. Once more, Donghyuck had felt too comfortable. He had been too tempted to stay there, for hours on end, prolonging that period where he didn’t have to attempt to solve the problems he’d caused and could, instead, pretend they didn’t exist at all.  

Then he’d heard Jeno cough in his sleep, a wracking thing, sounding almost like it hurt. Mark had shifted after Jeno coughed, Donghyuck remembered. He had readjusted. and pulled Donghyuck closer to him.

Mark had tugged him close enough that all Donghyuck could feel was the warmth radiating off of him. All Donghyuck could smell was the sharp, caustic, heated scent of a struck match – Mark’s scent. Almost all he could hear was his own heart, pounding, and his blood rushing through his ears. But, detectable just beneath that was Mark’s breathing, low and even, confusing in how comfortable it made him feel.

Donghyuck had slipped out of his bed, gotten ready in a stupor, and snuck out of the dorm. Mark’s words about the curse tempting him down the wrong path kept ringing in his ears. He wondered if that was why he’d been so tempted to stay in bed when he ought to have been researching ways to break the curse and help his friends. He wondered if that desire was something else entirely.

Donghyuck found a dark corner tucked away between towering shelves on one of the library’s uppermost floors, where no one would stumble onto him and disturb him. Then, he got to work.

He had two documents open on his laptop. The first was entitled bio 101 review, the second, bye bye, baby demon.

He shivered as he stared at the second one, the blank document, for a long spell. He wished he’d remembered how cold the library was and brought his hoodie. He wished even harder that he was back under his covers, nestled in the warm grasp of quite possibly the cutest boy, demon or not, he’d ever met.

Donghyuck sighed. One day, he’d learn he was better off not making wishes. He pulled up a window and started searching.

The problem was that every single person in the universe seemed to have a different opinion on how best to break curses, or how to exorcise demons and cast them back into Hell. Another, bigger problem was that so many ideas involved either harming the demon, or killing it. Donghyuck got hung up on that for too long, fretting over the few ideas he’d managed to find, wondering if by using those methods he’d be potentially harming Mark.

Religious stuff was out, he decided. There would be no calls to priests, no holy water, no sacred words. Definitely nothing even approaching a cross or a crucifix. Donghyuck froze. He wondered if he owned anything with a cross or a crucifix. He thought on the possibility, though small, that Mark might accidentally stumble upon them in his dorm, brush his fingers up against a cross necklace or something and end up in agonizing pain. Donghyuck shook his head, exhaled, and forced himself to refocus.

Breaking the curse was good for everyone, he told himself. It was good for Renjun, for Jaemin, and for Jeno. It’d make them happy and healthy. It was good for Mark, too. It would protect him from the death trap it seemed their realm was for him. Donghyuck tried to convince himself that it’d be good for him too, if he was no longer cursed.

He wasn’t very convincing.

After an hour of fruitless research, Donghyuck moved on from the religious methods. He took a half hour break to work on his biology final review, though his mind was still on crucifixes and exorcisms as he typed out the details of cell division.

Once he emerged from writing out the purposes of mitotic spindles and centrosomes, he stretched his fingers, took a break, and allowed himself to glance away from his laptop screen.

He unearthed his phone from his backpack. He was thinking he’d allow himself maybe just ten minutes of scrolling through instagram and then he’d get right back to work. He paused as he looked at his phone, froze, feeling as if his blood had turned to ice.

Half a dozen missed texts from Jeno, and three missed calls.

Donghyuck sucked in a breath. Without reading the texts, he called Jeno back.

Jeno picked up on the second ring.

“Hyuck. What’s up?”Jeno greeted in an easy, if slightly congested, voice.

“What’s up?” Donghyuck lowered his voice, forcibly keeping himself quiet, even though he was feeling desperately confused. Jeno sounded fine, unpanicked. The missed texts and calls didn’t add up, “What’s up with you? Dude, you never call. Are you alright?”

“Actually, now that you mention it –,” Jeno started, then cut himself off. Donghyuck could hear someone else talking in the background of the call, then Jeno was saying, “ – Yeah, he’s fine. Do you want to talk to him – ?”

Jeno was cut off before he could finish. Donghyuck strained his ears to listen, his confusion mounting by the moment. There was a rustling, crackling noise, followed by Jeno’s monotone, “...Guess that’s a yes,” which sounded fainter, more distant.

Mark’s voice, panicked, cut in, “Donghyuck. Hey. Are you okay? Where are you? How long have you been out? Has anything happened to you?”

Donghyuck tried and failed to ignore the leap his heart did at hearing Mark’s voice as he asked after him, his tone so colored with concern. He should’ve left a note for Mark, or something, he realized. He’d been so preoccupied, so conflicted and he’d just… forgotten about letting him know.

“Uh. I’m fine?” Donghyuck whispered. He was struggling to recall each and every one of Mark’s questions, “Nothing’s happened. I’m in the library, working on the curse.”

On the other end of the line, Donghyuck could hear Mark let out a long exhale. It sounded almost as though he’d been holding his breath. Donghyuck’s heart did that annoying leaping thing again. He shifted, moved his laptop off his lap, and pressed his free hand to his chest, attempting to quell his heart into calming down.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck said, in a hushed voice. He couldn’t have predicted Mark would care that much about waking up and not seeing Donghyuck there.

“Oh,” Mark sounded distracted, “Don’t apologize, Donghyuck. As long as you’re fine... Where are you, though?”
“I… the library?”

Hadn’t he already said that? But Mark had said as long as you’re fine. Donghyuck wondered at that, and at the fluttery feeling it provoked in him.

“Where exactly in the library?” Mark’s voice was warmer. Donghyuck could almost imagine the smile on his face.

“Uh. Fifth floor – in the stacks at the north end, I think?”

“Okay,” Mark replied, and before Donghyuck could ask a single word of a single question, he continued, “See you soon.”

More rustling on Mark’s end, followed a faint click, then an amused snort. Donghyuck listened, bewildered.

“Oh my God. The second you answered him, he literally just handed me the phone and walked out,” Jeno said, sounding equally surprised and amused.

Donghyuck noticed movement in front of him, at the enshadowed entrance to the row he had camped out in. His breath caught as Mark melted out from the shadows. Dressed in all black as he was, it seemed almost as if he hadn’t just traveled through them but, instead, been created of them.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck said to Jeno, weak, before realizing he should pretend that was new information to him.

“I mean – oh? He did?”

Donghyuck was paralyzed, his eyes widening as he watched Mark approach him. Mark walked casually, as if he hadn’t just materialized right in front of Donghyuck.

“You look cold,” Mark said, in lieu of a greeting. Donghyuck supposed he might have, shivering as he was, huddled up in a corner and trying to conserve warmth.

“I…”

Donghyuck couldn’t summon up a response. A corner of Mark’s lips dropped. Not a moment later, he was muttering that same string of nonsense words Donghyuck had heard him utter in the tunnel, what felt like ages back, and then he was gone. He’d vanished, leaving Donghyuck to stare at the space he had only occupied for a sum of seconds.

“Did you say something, Hyuck?” Jeno asked, on the other end of the line, “Oh. He’s back? Hi, Mark!” There was a pause. Then, another snort from Jeno “...Bye, Mark. He left again.”

Donghyuck already knew. He choked, as Mark reappeared in front of him. He wordlessly dropped a black bundle on Donghyuck’s lap. Mark’s eyes flitted from Donghyuck’s as Donghyuck stared at him, shocked into silence.

Mark crossed his arms over his chest. He was biting his lip. Donghyuck could just see the tip of his tooth jutted out over it. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, Donghyuck realized. Not a trace of liner darkened his eyes. Donghyuck wondered, distantly, if he’d been too worried to do his makeup that morning.

“That should keep you from getting cold,” Mark said, gruff.

Donghyuck looked down at the bundle Mark had dropped in his lap. It was shiny, heavy, a solid weight. The fluttery feeling flared up as Donghyuck realized that Mark had gone and fetched him nothing other than Mark’s own leather jacket.

“Okay, that’s great, Jeno. Bye,” Donghyuck managed, “Good luck with studying today,” Donghyuck cringed at his slip-up and backpedaled, “Wait, shit. Not that. Study hard!”

Jeno laughed. Just as he was commenting “Renjun’s right. You really have been weirder than usual lately – ”, Donghyuck drew back the phone from his ear and cut the call short. At least Donghyuck had brightened Jeno’s morning some with his idiocy, he supposed.

Donghyuck glanced at Mark, then back at the jacket on his lap, then back to Mark.

“Thank you,” Donghyuck said, and his voice was breathless, though it had no right to be. It sounded as if it had been him flitting in and out of existence, running through dorms and libraries from one instance to the next, rather than Mark.

Donghyuck lifted up the jacket and slipped it on. It was impossible not to note how it smelled of Mark. It was delusion, he was sure, but the jacket fit almost exactly right. Perhaps it was a little broad in the shoulders, and perhaps the sleeves extended a little past his wrists, but Mark was right. He was perfectly warm in it. The cold of the library affected him no longer.

“You’re welcome,” Mark said, stilted. There was a moment of silence, then Mark continued, “Uh. Good morning, by the way.”

Donghyuck smiled, faint.

“Good morning, Mark.”

Mark cleared his throat, “I’m – uh. Sorry about that.”

His mouth twisted into a frown, “I woke up, and you weren’t there. I waited and you… you didn’t come back. I guess I jumped to conclusions and thought something had happened with the curse.”

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck responded. He felt a surge of warmth, pleasantly surprised at the thought that Mark had waited for him, worried. He smiled, “I’m okay.”

Mark’s eyes flicked down to his lips or, rather, to his smile. Mark blinked, then looked back up at Donghyuck, his eyes widening.

Donghyuck’s smile grew. He pat the spot by him on the library’s worn grey carpet.

“Come on. Join me,” he said, “Get comfortable, if you can. We might be here awhile.”

Donghyuck had brought his laptop charger with him. He was ready to work until he either found how to break the curse, or his heart ached too hard to carry on.

Mark joined him without protest. He sat by Donghyuck, tinkering on Donghyuck’s phone as Donghyuck tapped away at his keyboard and snuck sideways glances. He couldn’t tell whether Mark’s presence added to or alleviated the ache.

Mark grinned as he played whatever game it was that he’d managed to find on Donghyuck’s phone. Donghyuck felt like smiling with him. His smile never lasted long, though. Every time he turned away from Mark and back to his laptop, he saw bye bye, baby demon, and it slipped from his face once more.

Donghyuck grew more and more frustrated, as time went on and his research kept yielding the same suggestions. Trap the demon. Harm the demon. Kill the demon.

He huffed an annoyed breath, after copying down the instructions to yet another method of demon disposal, just because nothing else was showing up. He deleted it, moments after. He couldn’t even consider that. He wouldn’t. He’d find another way.

As Donghyuck’s frustration mounted, Mark’s unsubtle glances his way grew less covert.

“Donghyuck,” Mark started, hesitant, after Donghyuck had sighed at finding yet another method that had looked promising but ended up in a promise that the demon would stay banished forever.

“It might be time for a break.”

Donghyuck jumped on the chance. He yearned for just a few hours where he didn’t have to think about how, every other person who’d ever been cursed had seemed to only be able to lift it by killing the demon.

“Alright. I should probably eat, anyways,” Donghyuck sighed. He dragged his backpack over and started to pack up.

“You haven’t eaten?” Mark’s voice sounded off. Donghyuck looked up at him, curious at his tone. He shook his head, in answer. Mark exhaled a heavy sigh.  

“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked, his voice somehow warm and resigned, all at once. Donghyuck could only shrug in response, and grin, shameless.

Mark made them stop by the dining hall, before anything else. Donghyuck allowed it. He felt grateful for the cool, crisp December air which allowed him to keep Mark’s jacket on even as they left the library.

He was able to keep the jacket on throughout the day. He wore it through picking up a cup of steaming soup to take back to the dorm for Jeno (he thanked Mark and Donghyuck for it, though he’d steadfastly protested that he wasn’t actually sick, that it was just a sniffle). Donghyuck wore the jacket inside even, as he dropped by Jaemin’s dorm.

Mark had stayed back, giving them space. While Donghyuck checked in on Jaemin, Mark was loitering in what Donghyuck most assuredly and convincingly lied to him wasn’t a suspicious manner on that floor’s communal study area.

“Damn, Hyuck,” Jaemin grinned, as he opened the door for Donghyuck, “Leather’s a good look on you.”

There was something off in Jaemin’s tone, something not quite right in his usual flirtation. His grin was wide, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Uh huh,” Donghyuck replied, already feeling like he’d done something incorrectly.

He was flying blind without Jeno, or Mark, for that matter. He didn’t know which way was up. He was unsure whether the best plans he could come up with for making Jaemin and Renjun actually speak to each other were from his own imagination or were being fed to him by the curse.

He just cut straight to it.

“Have you talked to Renjun since the party?” Jaemin’s already tense grin diminished, and Donghyuck blustered on, “ Actually talked, I mean. Not texting. Face to face.”

“No?” Jaemin answered, his voice smaller, lacking his usual bravado, “It’d be kinda hard to. Has he told you he’s staying at his aunt and uncle’s?”

Donghyuck felt for Jaemin but, at the same time, he couldn’t believe how unaware Jaemin was. It made Donghyuck’s head ache, trying to hold back from blurting out that of course he knew, and he also knew that it was because of Jaemin’s mistake that Renjun had fled away. He knew that Renjun was being a coward and Jaemin was being an idiot and, when it came down to it, neither of them were probably even really, truly at fault. The both of them were just being twisted, tempted by Donghyuck’s curse.

No matter what Mark said about Donghyuck’s role in this whole mess, he still felt the cold, creeping feeling of guilt.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck managed. His shoulders slumped, as he burrowed in the warmth of Mark’s jacket, feeling the leather conform and tighten over him.

“Still. I think you should try to talk to him,” Donghyuck managed, weak.

Jaemin’s smile shifted, looking the slightest bit real for the first time since the night of the party.

“Wait. Don’t tell me…”

Jaemin laughed, sharp, shocked, as if his own thoughts had surprised him. Donghyuck watched, bewildered, as Jaemin twisted his head. He kept his eyes trained on Donghyuck even as he turned away.

Jaemin lifted his hand and drew the neck of his shirt down. It was only then that Donghyuck noticed them, the darkened litter of hickeys smattered like an ugly pattern all across one side Jaemin’s neck and his collarbone. Donghyuck could only sigh, small, at the sight of them.

“I remember kissing someone on Saturday,” Jaemin continued, as his grin widened and his eyes brightened, “Someone gave me these. And Renjun’s acting weird – he’s not answering my texts. I mean – he is, but his texts are really short. He’s only kinda cute. He’s usually really cute,” Jaemin’s fingers brushed up against the bruises, light, almost absentmindedly, as he smiled, “Shit. Imagine how mad he’d be if he heard me calling him cute...”

Donghyuck’s eyes went from the darkened bruises to Jaemin’s face. He turned to face Donghyuck head-on, a look of elation alighting his features. Donghyuck couldn’t be relieved that Jaemin was finally attempting to put two and two together, not when he seemed to have gotten five.

“Renjun and I... did we…?”

“No,” Donghyuck cut in before Jaemin could finish the thought aloud, “No, you definitely didn’t.”

You actual fucking idiot, he withheld himself from saying, as tempted as he was. It would’ve been a bit hypocritical to go around calling other people stupid.

Jaemin’s smile dropped from his face. He frowned. His hand fell from his neck.

“Oh.”

Donghyuck left Jaemin’s dorm with Jaemin still looking completely bewildered. He left, giving him some parting, half-pleading advice to seek out Renjun, to even go to his aunt and uncle’s place (if Renjun was fine with it). Also, Donghyuck added, in an undertone, that maybe Jaemin ought to wear a turtleneck or something if he decided on following through with Donghyuck’s advice.

The campus was nearly deserted as Mark and Donghyuck made their way back to the library across it. Though it was a weekday afternoon, everyone, every student or professor, was busy preparing for the upcoming exams. All were working, but Donghyuck had couldn’t join them. Not while the curse remained a weight on him and his friends.

After Donghyuck had relayed the conversation with Jaemin to Mark, he’d fallen into thoughtful silence. He remained quiet, all the way up until Donghyuck and he had reached the library’s fifth floor again.

“You’ll find a way to break it,” Mark said. Though his voice was small, it was determined, “Your friends are going to start getting feeling happier soon.”

Donghyuck sighed. He lowered himself to the carpet, making sure to leave enough space by him for Mark to fit at his side.

“I have found ways to break it,” he confessed, “It’s just that every single one would involve hurting you.”

Mark’s face did a funny thing then. He cast his gaze down. His mouth twitched, near imperceptibly. He settled by Donghyuck, close enough for Donghyuck’s heart to take note of his proximity and to pick up pace. Donghyuck held his breath, waiting for Mark’s response to his confession.

Eventually, Mark looked up at Donghyuck.

“If that’s the only way...”

Donghyuck stared at Mark, in shock that Mark would think that Donghyuck could stand doing that to anyone, especially someone he liked as much as he liked Mark. He also didn’t know how to process the information that Mark was willing to let himself be harmed for something that barely amounted to an inconvenience for Donghyuck, for something that mostly only seemed to be hurting the people around him.

“Are you kidding me?” Donghyuck shook his head, “No. There’s gotta be a way to get rid of the curse that doesn’t involve – y’know. I know there is. I’ll find it.”

Mark stared at Donghyuck, openly. His eyes flitted over Donghyuck’s face, as if searching for something. Donghyuck grinned at him, though he didn’t feel much like grinning at all. He wondered if he’d ever be free of that ache in his chest, or if lifting the curse and losing Mark would only make it permanent.

Mark nodded, once. Maybe he had found whatever it was that he was searching for.

“Okay. Sounds like a plan,” Mark said, and Donghyuck hoped he wasn’t imagining that fondness there.

Donghyuck called it quits for the day after his laptop gave out for seemingly no reason, going dark and refusing to restart. He knew it was probably the curse, but he couldn’t help but see it as a respite.

A few hours in, Mark had started to nod off. As their conversation dwindled, Mark’s head drooped. It fell lower and lower, and Donghyuck was loathe to move as Mark’s head finally dropped onto his shoulder.

It had been painfully awkward. The contact with Donghyuck’s shoulder roused Mark from sleep. As he resurfaced to consciousness he issued a blurry, murmured apology, interrupted by a wide yawn. He’d then shuffled away and leaned his head back against the library wall, choosing to sleep on the hard, cold plaster over sleeping on Donghyuck’s shoulder.  

Donghyuck felt like shivering again with Mark removed from him. He knew the sudden chill was simply his imagination, and that Mark’s jacket was perfectly warm.

He just felt frozen, with the reminder that Mark would only ever cling to him in sleep. He felt guilty, for caring so much when he had work to do and curses to break. He shouldn’t have been pining over demon boys who’d be going back to hell in a matter of time, anyways.

So, when Donghyuck’s laptop unexpectedly gave out, he was grateful. After packing it away, he shook Mark awake. Donghyuck’s chest ached, but he smiled as Mark rose, his eyes slowly blinking open.

“You know, you could help me, if you wanted. It seems like just sitting there while I work is literally boring you to sleep,” Donghyuck pointed out, as they walked out from the library doors.

Outside, the sun had just dipped below the horizon line, leaving the sky with an eerie orange tinge which faded at its barest edges to crimson. The scraggly, leafless trees that were scattered around campus were silhouetted in black against it, reaching up into the sky like skeletal fingers.

“I could,” Mark said, after a beat. His voice sounded odd. Donghyuck put it down to the fact that he’d just awoken from an hours long nap.

“Would you want me to?” Mark asked.

Donghyuck glanced at him. His brows were furrowed, and he looked thoughtful. He wasn’t looking at Donghyuck. He was looking out into the vague distance, at nothing in particular.

It was a strange question.

“Sure,” Donghyuck allowed, even though he wasn’t sure, not at all. Mark’s assistance might mean that the curse would be broken in even less time.

“Alright,” Mark turned to Donghyuck. One side of his mouth quirked up into his lopsided smile, “Tomorrow. I’ll start helping out tomorrow.”

That night, Donghyuck couldn’t even put up the pretense of wanting to maintain the gap that separated them.

As Jeno droned on in his sleep on the other side of the room, he and Mark’s conversation about all Mark knew of breaking curses (not much, it turned out) drew to a close.

The words traded between them grew spare and, needing that closeness they only ever seemed to have in the mornings, Donghyuck reached forward. He hesitated at the last moment, as his fingers brushed up against the soft material of Mark’s borrowed shirt. Then, he gathered his courage, and snagged Mark’s shirt. As he grasped it, he heard Mark let out a subtle sound of surprise.

He looked up into Mark’s eyes. Seeing the uncertainty written plainly in them, Donghyuck sighed.

“Don’t say anything about demons not cuddling. We both know that’s bullshit.”

A long moment passed, then Mark nodded, wordlessly giving Donghyuck permission. Donghyuck didn’t know if Mark was taking pity on him, if he simply looked that desperate, that sorry. But, no matter the reason, he was grateful that Mark hadn’t rejected him.

Donghyuck smiled, relieved. Emboldened in the dim light, feeling braver with the pressure of time pressing down on him, Donghyuck chose not to tug Mark forward, as he’d initially meant to. Instead, he released Mark’s shirt. He raised his hand to Mark’s face.

In a soft, light tough, he ran his thumb and forefinger over the rim of Mark’s ear, from the pointed tip, down. The action wasn’t as playful as he’d hoped to make it. It didn’t feel the same, as it had all those other times he’d done it. This time, it was lingering. If his fingers were trembling slightly, he hoped Mark would take pity on him once more and pretend not to notice.

Mark’s breath hitched, the sound of it loud in the near-silent room.

Donghyuck almost jumped at it. He dared not prolong the touch. He coasted the tips of his fingers further down, over Mark’s jaw. He traced the length of Mark’s neck. He felt greedy, all of a sudden, eager to map Mark out. Donghyuck wanted to commit him to memory.

Mark’s skin felt burning hot, scalding to the touch. It also was softer than it had any right to be. Donghyuck felt a tremor, as his fingers passed over the neck of Mark’s shirt, over the bump where his collarbone protruded out. Donghyuck thought it might’ve been his own hand, at first, only to realize after a moment that it was Mark, shivering under his touch. He glanced up Mark, only to see that his eyes had slid shut.

Donghyuck’s hand stilled, in the center of Mark’s chest. He paused, thoughtful.

Mark’s eyes reopened in halting stages. Donghyuck had to wonder what it all meant – Mark allowing him to come closer, Mark shaking just because he’d been touched by Donghyuck. Then there was everything Mark had said up until that point that Donghyuck had thought seemed an awful lot like flirting.

Donghyuck may not have been the quickest when it came to these kinds of things, but he wasn’t blind. Donghyuck felt a sensation not unlike missing the last step in a staircase, that perception-shifting jolt, as he came to the realization that Mark liked him.

Maybe Mark didn’t like Donghyuck in the same capacity as Donghyuck liked him, but that didn’t matter. Donghyuck wouldn’t ask for anything more. He couldn’t ask for anything more, not when Mark would be leaving, not when Donghyuck might never see him again.

Mark inhaled, uneven. The sound of it drew Donghyuck from his thoughts.

Mark might have been trembling, but he seemed otherwise frozen. He stared at Donghyuck with wide, unblinking eyes. Donghyuck felt as if he was looking on him anew. It felt so glaringly obvious now, how Mark felt towards him. He wondered how long Mark had liked him back, how much time they could have had, if only Donghyuck had been a bit more perceptive.

“Mark,” Donghyuck whispered.

Mark’s eyes flicked down. Donghyuck knew, without absolute conviction, that he was looking to Donghyuck’s lips. Under Mark’s unerring gaze, Donghyuck’s lips curled up into a smile.

“Tell me,” Donghyuck began, “Do all demons like their humans this much, or is it just you?”

Mark raised his eyes from Donghyuck’s lips. Donghyuck’s heart stopped for a moment, before restarting, beating quicker than ever. Something was wrong. Mark’s eyes flashed, bright, but he wasn’t looking on Donghyuck with interest. Instead, he looked terrified.

Then, at the worst moment possible, Jeno let out an earth shattering snore. Donghyuck winced. Mark’s eyes slid past him, over his shoulders, to Jeno. Donghyuck could only watch in resignation as all traces of any emotion, be it attraction or fear, were shuttered away. Mark’s face was impassive by the time he looked back at Donghyuck.

“We can’t,” Mark said, as if it was that simple.

He raised his hand and grasped Donghyuck’s with it. Then, he lowered Donghyuck’s hand off from him, only allowing their fingers to stay intertwined for a moment, before slipping his hand out from Donghyuck’s.

The ache in Donghyuck’s chest morphed. It shifted from a cold burning twinge to a sharp pain, pointed, as if he’d been struck.

“We can’t what?” Donghyuck hissed.

It felt hard to speak. The painful sensation felt so real, like it was an actual wound, as he pondered. They couldn’t .. flirt? Kiss? Donghyuck was nearing frustration. If anything, the perfect time to do those things was before Mark had to go, or they’d always be left wondering.

“I can’t. It would make it impossible to – I just can’t, Donghyuck,” Mark spoke with desperation, as if begging Donghyuck to understand.

Donghyuck couldn’t understand him, though. Mark wasn’t making sense. Donghyuck watched, bewildered, aching as Mark sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Mark sucked in his lip, for only a moment, before releasing it. Just that brief contact with his sharp teeth was enough to draw blood flow to his lips, causing them to grow flushed. It ached how much Donghyuck wanted. He wanted to kiss Mark, more than anything, and the ache was all the worse with the knowledge that Mark wanted to kiss him too.

Yet, Mark didn’t kiss him.

Mark only offered him an uneven, “‘Night, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck couldn’t do anything as Mark turned over. He curled up, facing away from him like it was the beginning all over again, like they meant nothing to each other, all over again.

Maybe they did mean nothing to each other. Maybe Donghyuck was misjudging his own feelings, and Mark would leave and he’d feel nothing. Maybe the sharp, painful ache in his heart would cease the moment Mark was out of sight.

But, with Donghyuck’s luck, he doubted it.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck woke up feeling the encroaching chill of the winter air, for the first time in awhile. He blinked awake, disoriented at the unfamiliar sensation of goosebumps raised across his skin.

He looked down to see there was no arm strewn over his stomach, encircling him. He felt cold, he realized, because Mark wasn’t at his back, curled around him. Donghyuck awoke in an instant. He pushed up and looked to Mark’s side of the bed, only to find it empty.

Donghyuck held his breath as he slid his hand over, to feel the vacant space. Donghyuck’s hand tensed. It wasn’t even warm where Mark should have been lying. It wasn’t like Mark had just gotten up. He’d been gone awhile.

Donghyuck’s blood ran cold. His head whipped up as he scanned the room, searching for Mark, searching for any sign of him, finding nothing. Even his boots were gone. They weren’t where they should have been, by Donghyuck’s bedpost.

Donghyuck told himself not to panic, even as he threw off his covers and rushed to the door. He wondered where he should search first to find Mark. He wondered if he could even look anywhere at all, with Mark being a demon with the ability to appear and disappear at will. Donghyuck could try the library, maybe. There was also the possibility that Mark had just gone for a walk. He might have even gone to Renjun’s place – he had seemed fond of Chenle.

Anything that meant Mark was still on Earth, and not down below. Donghyuck stepped into a pair of sneakers that might have been his, might just as easily have been Jeno’s.

He went to the door, wrenched it open, and walked out, ramming straight into a solid force like a wall immediately upon exiting it. No, not a wall, corrected Donghyuck’s still disoriented, still half-asleep mind. He’d run into a person.

“Mark,” Donghyuck said, breathless, as the coffee cup held high in Mark’s hands tipped over. He watched it fall, as if in slow motion, as steaming coffee spilled down Mark’s front. It must have been a full cup. It soaked his shirt through, and left the rich scent of coffee thick in the air.

This all happened in a split second. Mark looked down at the mess Donghyuck had made of his shirt. The dorm door swung closed behind Donghyuck, the sound of it loud in the sudden, utter silence of the hallway.

“Shit,” Mark said, after a moment. He plucked at a fold of his sopping shirt, pulling it off of his chest, “That cost four dollars.”

Donghyuck wanted to ask Mark where he’d been. He wanted to ask him why he’d up and left without giving Donghyuck the slightest warning. At the same time, Donghyuck wanted to ask Mark if he needed a change of clothes, and to apologize for drenching him in coffee.

Instead, Donghyuck blanked, and asked, “Wait. How did you pay for the coffee?”

Mark sighed. He released the front of his shirt, letting it fall limp back in place. Donghyuck watched, as Mark then wiped his free hand off on his jeans, reached back, and pulled out Donghyuck’s card.

“Mark,” Donghyuck whined, before swiping it out from his fingers.

“Your order wasn’t that hard to remember,” Mark muttered, his eyes drifting up, to some point above Donghyuck’s head, “I woke up early and figured I could – nevermind.”

Donghyuck blinked, as he came to the realization that he could see the faintest dusting of red across the crests of Mark’s cheeks. Mark had been trying to do something for him, Donghyuck thought, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was some kind of apology for the night before. The fresh reminder of it provoked a pang in Donghyuck’s chest.

“That’s sweet of you, but don’t steal,” Donghyuck said, not half as sternly as he’d intended it to come out. His gaze was still focused on the flush across Mark’s cheeks.

Mark’s eyes dropped back down. He stared at Donghyuck, stupefied. Donghyuck stared back, wondering at Mark’s apparent confusion, before realizing where he might have gone wrong. He supposed Mark might have had something to say about demons and their lack of concern in regards to stealing and general mischief.

“Don’t steal from me, ” Donghyuck sniffed. He shifted his gaze from Mark’s, turned around, and opened the door, “Come on. You need a new shirt.”

Mark decided to take another shower to fully wash the coffee off of him. While he did, Donghyuck dug deep through his dresser, convinced that if he just kept looking, another black shirt would pop up.

Donghyuck was self aware enough to be able to admit that he probably should have been doing laundry more often than he did. It was just that the washers and dryers were in the dorm basement, and the basement was a long walk from his dorm. Also, he had to sit there, and work on his homework amidst the damp-smelling air and the noisy machines as his clothes washed, just so no other students could sneak in and steal his stuff.

In short, Donghyuck might have been out of black shirts for Mark and it might have been because he’d been procrastinating doing his laundry for weeks.

Donghyuck sighed and reached deeper into the drawer. His fingers brushed up against something hard, something that definitely wasn’t a shirt, black or not. He knew instantly what it was, and sucked in a breath. He gingerly pulled out the old spellbook. It had only been a week since he’d hidden it in the drawer, he thought. Just seven days since he’d set out to summon a demon and had ended up meeting Mark.

Donghyuck stared at the shabby cover that barely seemed to be hanging on. He traced the faded letters that were etched on it. Magick Moste Potente. Well, he thought, as a small smile grew across his face, they hadn’t been wrong. The incantation was more powerful than he ever could have imagined. It had affected his life in ways he never could have anticipated, when he’d first set up that pentagram and Renjun’s stolen candles.

Jeno snuffled from over on his bed, drawing Donghyuck back from a spiral of recollections. He glanced Jeno’s way, to find him still asleep. Donghyuck looked back at the book, considering it for a moment. Then he stood, crossed the dorm, and slipped it into his backpack.

If nothing else, it would give Mark something to read to keep himself awake as Donghyuck continued to research the curse.

In the end, Donghyuck gave in and offered Mark the closest thing he had that might have suited Mark’s drab preferences: Donghyuck’s grey hoodie. Mark hadn’t even seemed to mind. Donghyuck could’ve sworn he’d seen Mark’s lips twitch into something resembling a smile as he slipped it over his head.

Donghyuck glanced up from the book he was reading, raising his gaze from words on curses and demons that weren’t nearly as fascinating as the demon in front of him. Mark was close enough across the thin width of the library row they’d situated themselves in that Donghyuck could see that the hoodie didn’t fit him quite right. It looked just as big on Mark as it looked on Donghyuck, with the sleeves falling all the way past Mark’s wrists, almost to his fingers.

He raised his hand, as Donghyuck watched him with probably not nearly enough subtlety. Mark pushed up the hem of his beanie and scratched his head. Black strands, dark enough to swallow the shadows, twisted around his fingers, over the blushed pink polish on his nails.

Donghyuck’s gaze fell from Mark’s fingers in his hair, down. He traced the black curls of hair falling over his brow, the shadows cast over his features by the dim overhead lighting. His lashes, dark against his cheeks, as he stared down at whatever passage he was reading in the spellbook.

His lips.

Donghyuck let out a small sigh, so tiny he doubted Mark could detect it, even though he was so near. He was hung up on Mark’s words from the night before. Mark thought they shouldn’t try anything, for some unknown reason.

Donghyuck still couldn’t understand. Mark was the only thing in his stupid life that he was sure about. Everything was so simple when it came to him. Donghyuck liked him. Donghyuck wanted to kiss him. Donghyuck didn’t want to say goodbye.

It should have been easy.

Mark’s eyes flicked up from the spellbook’s pages. His hand ceased moving, as he met Donghyuck’s eyes. Donghyuck didn’t know what was worse – that he’d been caught staring, or that he’d caught Mark attempting to do the same. He concluded that, no matter what, it made the ache in his chest grow stronger.

It should have been easy.

Mark smiled, small. It didn’t reach his eyes, though. They should’ve been shining.

“How’s it coming on your end?” he asked. His hand fell from his hair, leaving it mussed and in disarray, and leaving his beanie lopsided.

Donghyuck didn’t want to admit that he’d hardly gotten beyond the first chapter in the first book that he’d checked out about demonology and curses. He’d only half-heartedly scanned a few dozen pages on the evilness of demons, before abandoning the ruse entirely and just staring at Mark. No matter how he thought about it, that came off as a bit pathetic.

“Uh,” Donghyuck grasped for something to say, “Not great?”

Mark’s lips twitched into a smile. It was worse now that Donghyuck knew he wasn’tjust imagining the fondness there, the warmth. Donghyuck barely held back another sigh. He raised his hands, and beckoned Mark forward. If he didn’t help, Mark’s beanie would be lopsided the rest of the day.

“Find anything in the creepy old book?” Donghyuck asked, not expecting much. Mark hesitated, before setting the book aside, standing, crossing the row, and taking a seat by Donghyuck.

Donghyuck leaned forward, off the shelves he’d been resting against. He angled to reach Mark’s beanie and set it straight.

“I might’ve...” Mark said, as the slight, fond smile slipped from his face.

Donghyuck forgot to breathe for a moment. That wasn’t a no. He took a measured inhale, then resumed fixing Mark’s beanie. He lingered longer then he probably should have.  He took note of every time the back of his thumb brushed up against the tip of Mark’s ear, feeling ridiculous for it. He didn’t let himself dwell on how soft Mark’s hair felt to the touch.

“Oh,” Donghyuck said in reply, as he pulled back. He didn’t know how to react. He was supposed to feel relieved, right?

Mark patted the beanie over his head, seemingly assuring himself it was in place. He then smiled at Donghyuck, almost distractedly. He stood up, and crossed back to the other side of the row. He picked up the book again, settled it in his lap.

“It might be nothing, though,” he said, his voice low.

Donghyuck hated how calm he sounded about the prospect of having found a way to break the curse, for no other reason than that Donghyuck felt awful for not feeling calm too.

Like there was any way in hell Donghyuck could just go back to reading his bland demonology book after Mark had said that. The library book lay forgotten on Donghyuck’s lap, as he looked at Mark, discerning. He searched for some sign, some symptom that Mark had found a way to break the curse. It was hard to tell. Mark’s eyes remained trained on the book.

It was crazy, how much more real the prospect of Mark having to leave felt all of a sudden. All it took was Mark saying he might have found something.

Donghyuck wasn’t ready, he realized. He might never be. Even contemplating it filled him with that petrifying ache, that paralysis he only ever seemed to get when it came to the thought of letting Mark go.

Mark’s eyes flicked up to Donghyuck. Donghyuck blinked. They’d been caught again, the both of them. Mark’s face shifted from thoughtfulness. His eyes glinted, and a corner of his mouth quirked up into a crooked smile.

“Why do I feel like I’m the only one doing any work here?”

Donghyuck didn’t have to say that he’d already lost whatever little desire he’d had to continue researching. Mark had probably already guessed.

“You’re not going to leave without giving me a proper goodbye, are you?” Donghyuck blurted out. Mark leaving was the last thing he wanted to think about, but it was the only thing he could think about.

There was a beat of silence in the wake of his question. The air felt thick with the weight of it.

“I – of course not,” Mark said, eventually. His voice was so soft, almost tender, and somehow, that hurt worse than any bluntly spoken words could have.

Mark seemed to be sincere. Donghyuck had to nod in acknowledgement. His tongue felt too thick for him to speak.

“Donghyuck, I hope you know that I… I’m gonna miss you too,” Mark’s smile softened. He shook his head. In a hushed tone, he added, “Probably more than I should.”

Donghyuck felt like something was trying to claw its way out of him, up through his throat. He had decided that wishes weren’t worth it. Yet, in that moment, he made one more. Simple, just one word. Mark.

Donghyuck’s face must have done something, because Mark’s expression shifted in an instant, from a soft, tentative smile to panicked.

“Shit,” he exhaled, “That didn’t help, did it?”

“Not really,” Donghyuck admitted, thick.

He hung his head, scanning a few sentences about the history of demons just to give himself something to do that wasn’t staring at Mark in pathetic pining. He sniffed, suddenly feeling congested. He wondered if he was coming down with whatever Jeno had.

“I’m still glad you told me,” Donghyuck added. The knowledge that Mark would miss him too made his heart swell, even though it may have made the prospect of saying goodbye even harder.

His eyes were starting to burn. Donghyuck reached his hand up and rubbed at one of them. He wasn’t able to discern whether the action had helped or added to the ache.

Mark made a soft sound. Donghyuck froze. He blinked, hard, hoping that could soothe the burning sensation. He sniffed again, and looked up at Mark. Mark had a pitying expression on his face. That was the only way Donghyuck could make sense of it, of way Mark’s brow, had knitted together, of the way his lips had twisted.

But Donghyuck didn’t want that. He didn’t want to make Mark sad, not when he was just being stupid. He forced his lips into a smile.

“I’m okay. I swear. It’s just been a really...” Donghyuck heard his voice wavering. He paused, and took a deep breath, hoping it would strengthen his voice, “... really long week.”

Mark’s face grew, if possible, even more pitious. His eyes were wide. They shone, flooded with light somehow, despite how dim their surroundings were.

Mark sucked in his lower lip before offering a quiet “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stared blankly, uncomprehending at first. Then he realized why Mark was apologizing, that Mark was blaming the curse and, by extension, himself.

“Don’t be,” Donghyuck uttered. His throat constricted as he forced out, “You’ve been the best thing about it.”

Whenever the curse had made anything go poorly, it seemed like Mark had always been there to help Donghyuck with the aftermath. It seemed he’d always been there for Donghyuck, when Donghyuck had felt just inches from falling apart.

Donghyuck blinked, again. He felt a clench of annoyance and embarrassment, as the first tear fell from his eye, tracing a cold path down the side of his face.

“Oh shit, ” Mark whispered, “Please don’t cry, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck had to choke out a laugh, wet and surprised.

“Trust me, I’m trying not to,” he managed.

Mark set the spellbook aside gently and shuffled forward towards Donghyuck. Mark settled right in front of him, close enough that Donghyuck’s breath caught, as Mark angled closer.

Donghyuck’s heart lurched as Mark leaned in. Donghyuck sat, frozen, as Mark raised his hand, his lacquered fingers curled over the sleeve of his borrowed hoodie. Gently, Mark pressed the soft, warm fabric of the hoodie sleeve to Donghyuck’s cheek, drying it.

Mark withdrew. As he leaned back, his gaze drifted up to meet Donghyuck’s eyes. Donghyuck was forced to admit to himself that it was one thing staring into Mark’s eyes from across the bed, in a dark dorm room, with only the light of the moon and the air of deniability that came with nightfall. It was another thing entirely to be arrested by his gaze while wide awake, the knowledge that both of them wanted this continually drifting to the top of his mind.

Donghyuck couldn’t speak. So he didn’t try. He lifted up his hand, pressed it to his cheek, still stunned that his demon had done that, still caught on the feeling of Mark drying his tears. Somehow, the sensation didn’t feel even remotely the same when it was his own touch.

Mark’s eyes tracked the movement and he smiled, small. He let out a minute sigh, only perceptible due to the silence around them, and the fact that he was so near.

“Yeah. I know how to break it,” Mark said, out of nowhere, without a trace of doubt in his voice. 

Donghyuck suddenly felt as if he were choking on nothing, on the sudden lump in his throat that was making breathing normally nearly impossible. Donghyuck would give anything just to make time stand still. He’d give anything, to go back to that Sunday morning.

“And I will. I’m going to break the curse,” Mark said. His eyes were shining, gleaming like glass windows against a night sky, “Please let me.”

Donghyuck felt overwhelmed, unprepared. He felt as if it was all so sudden, too fast. He gazed at Mark, barely comprehending, unable to speak. He yearned for just a little bit more time with Mark. Just another week, maybe. That wasn’t too greedy, was it? The curse couldn’t possibly get that much worse in that short a time span, could it?

“Donghyuck,” Mark started, and the way his lips curled around the syllables of Donghyuck’s name, as if it was a privilege to say it, as if the mere sounds of it meant something special made Donghyuck ache, “To tell you the truth, if you asked, I wouldn’t do anything about it at all. So please just… don’t ask. Just let me.”

It was like Mark had read his mind. Donghyuck had meant to ask if they could put it off, at least. But would that mean things might worsen for his friends? Donghyuck’s head ached to contemplate it but, worse than that, was the overwhelming pain in his chest. It was sharp, piercing. He wanted to cry out, all of a sudden. He wanted to cry.

Donghyuck nodded instead. He blinked to clear his eyes of the prickling sensation that was threatening to come back. He wondered how many hours he had left with Mark before Mark found the spell or the magical items required to break the curse.

He was still wondering, when Mark started to lean in.

Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat, before resuming. It pounded in his chest, as all the minutest details of Mark’s face grew clearer, as his face neared Donghyuck’s. Mark’s hand rose as if in slow motion. It went to Donghyuck’s neck, slotting into the crook where his jaw ended, slotting into place as if it belonged there. Donghyuck took a tremulous inhalation. The way Mark held him was light, a soft touch despite the rough calluses that Donghyuck could feel dotted across Mark’s fingers and palm.

Donghyuck was frozen. His heart hammered at his ribcage as he watched Mark’s eyelids fall low, nearly shut. Mark was close enough for Donghyuck to smell him, that mix of a struck match, explosive, intermingled with the sweet smell of the shampoo he’d borrowed from Donghyuck.

Donghyuck wondered if he had truly awoken that morning, or if this was just some dream, some continuation of some surreal fantasy. Mark had said they couldn’t kiss. And yet.

Mark’s lips were so close. Donghyuck could feel Mark’s breath, hot puffs of air, ghosting across his lips. Mark had stilled, achingly near. He’d also gone paralyzed. Donghyuck waited, and waited, and finally his impatience overran his disbelief.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, low, urgent, “Kiss me.”

Mark’s fingers just barely reached the back of Donghyuck’s head, the barest tips of his fingers just grazed the tender spot directly beneath his ear. At Donghyuck’s words, his grip tensed, tightening on the sensitive area. Mark moved, and closed the gap between them.

Donghyuck’s eyes slid shut, as Mark’s lips brushed against his, gentle, hesitant, almost shy. His lips were soft, plush against Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck’s breath caught as a sound escaped from between Mark’s lips. It was wordless, diminished, and seemed for all the world like the sound one might make when they came to a sudden realization.

Donghyuck let Mark control the kiss for a moment, maybe two, but he was so persistently tentative. He was so gentle with Donghyuck. It was as if he thought Donghyuck might break if he kissed him with anything other than utmost tenderness. Donghyuck pulled back, not enough to lose contact with Mark’s lips, just enough to drag in another breath of air.

Then he pressed back in with force. Their lips crashed together as Donghyuck raised his hand, pushing it through Mark’s hair. He might have dislodged Mark’s beanie in the process. He couldn’t find it within him to care.

Mark let out a low sound, and Donghyuck felt it reverberate all throughout him, coursing through him like wildfire. As Donghyuck’s fingers carded through his hair, Mark switched in an instant from hesitant and gentle to hungry, desperate.

Mark pressed forward and Donghyuck’s back hit the shelves behind him. Hurried, he uncrossed his legs, letting the book on his lap fall to the side with a conspicuous thump. Donghyuck reached out with his free hand, blindly grasping for Mark. He clutched at the front of Mark’s hoodie, tugging at it.

Mark followed Donghyuck as he fell back. His grip on Donghyuck’s jaw tightened as he nipped at Donghyuck’s bottom lip. Donghyuck gasped at the jolt of unexpected pain. The sensation of Mark’s fangs on his lip was pointed, sharp and it made him want to sing . It was over just as soon as it had begun, though, and Mark was already soothing it over, pressing a light, chaste kiss to Donghyuck’s mouth. The bare contact of Mark’s lips cured any lasting hurt, as though Mark’s lips were panacea.

Donghyuck felt lightheaded, giddy. Though he was sure it was mostly the fact that he’d finally gotten his wish, he’d finally gotten Mark , he forced himself to pull back for air, just in case. He detached their lips, panting, taking breathless gasps. His lips tingled, his lower lip felt swollen, and his jaw was warm in Mark’s grasp.

Donghyuck felt the beginnings of a dazed smile curl up his mouth, as his eyes opened. He searched Mark’s face, wondering if it was possible to read within it the moment Mark’s mind had changed and he’d decided that maybe he and Donghyuck could have something, that maybe it would be worth it. Maybe Donghyuck had been granted another wish, as well. Maybe time had finally stopped for them.

“What was that?” Donghyuck asked, winded.

Blood was rushing to his ears, and a warm bloom filled him to the brim. Mark’s eyes opened slowly, his lips seemed to be permanently parted, almost in shock. His eyes widened, as he met Donghyuck’s gaze.

“Oh,” Mark intoned, “Fuck.”

He cursed, and it was almost hard to hear over the sound of the rushing blood. Donghyuck felt a creeping sense of unease. That didn’t feel like the reaction Mark should have had to their first kiss. Still, his heart was thrumming and his lower lip, right where it’d been bit, felt like it pulsed with every beat of his heart.

Donghyuck pulled his hand back towards him slightly. He slid it back through Mark’s hair to his cheek, a tender grasp mirroring Mark’s touch on him.

He’d just parted his lips to ask if something was wrong, when Mark spoke.

“I guess that was goodbye.”

Donghyuck could barely hear him over the sound of blood rushing through his ears. The noise had shifted. The more Donghyuck heard of it, the more it sounded like howling, like the sound of wind howling on a stormy night. Donghyuck couldn’t summon up any concern for it, not as his heart dropped, not as he searched Mark’s eyes for some explanation for his inexplicable words.

“What?” he asked. He had to raise his voice, to hear himself over the rising racket in his ears. The light overheard flickered, and Mark looked up, his eyes wide and fearful.

His eyes snapped back down, in a moment. Donghyuck’s relaxation and warmth from just moments before sapped from him, at the tension in Mark’s face.

“Bye, Donghyuck,” Mark said.

There was no mistaking the words, not this time. He’d said them low, warm despite how rushed they were. His thumb brushed up against Donghyuck’s jaw light, quick. Donghyuck shivered at the sensation of it.

“Why’re you saying – ?” he tried to ask.

But he wasn’t able to finish. Not before the light above their heads blinked out. The howling in Donghyuck’s ears crescendoed, blocking out every other sound, even the sound of his own voice, as the rest of the lights on the floor blinked out, in rapid succession, plunging them into darkness.

It was darker than the darkest moonless night, and Donghyuck’s hand suddenly felt cold and empty. His jaw, the same. The howling stopped, in an instant, cutting off without warning.

The lights buzzed back on, lightening, their faint fluorescent glow slowly illuminating the pitch black in front of Donghyuck. Donghyuck choked, as he saw why he suddenly felt so cold, so empty.

Mark was gone.

Vanished.

Donghyuck lowered his hand, staring at the space where Mark should have been. He was gone.

He was going to reappear at any moment, Donghyuck told himself. Any moment now, Mark would magic into existence just as easily as he magicked out.

Minutes ticked by. Donghyuck’s heartbeat slowly, slowly crept back to normal. Donghyuck finally caught his breath, from when Mark had stolen it. And the space where Mark should have been was still empty.

Donghyuck drew his legs up to his chest. He gazed out, unfocused. Mark was gone, and he’d taken the warmth with him. Donghyuck replayed the preceding moments, Mark’s words, the kiss, Mark’s goodbye – over and over again until his eyes glazed over.

Time passed, too slow, too fast. Donghyuck’s questions changed. As his throat threatened to close up, as his legs started to ache from sitting still in the same position for so long, he began to wonder if Mark was coming back, rather than when Mark was coming back

He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye, Donghyuck realized. Mark had just left him, not even giving him the chance to say goodbye back. Donghyuck felt as if something was clawing its way up and out of him.

Donghyuck squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately. He willed Mark to reappear in front of him in the span of time it took for him to remember how to breathe. He opened his eyes. Nothing lay in front of him but a discarded beanie and an open tome across the width of a library row that looked suddenly desaturated, suddenly less bright.

Donghyuck felt a tear crawl down his cheek. He sniffed, caught off guard by the sensation. It annoyed him inordinately, the feeling of it on his skin. He batted carelessly at his cheek, swiping it dry. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that tear might sate the miserable feeling within him.

It didn’t. Once Donghyuck started crying, he couldn’t stop.

It was the culmination of everything that had happened that week, every misunderstanding, every fight, every almost-fight, every moment when the curse had made Donghyuck’s life hard. It was that compounded with Mark’s absence, unexpected, in the middle of a goodbye, as though he’d been wrenched from Donghyuck. He felt so confused, so frustrated, so lost.   

Mark was gone, and Donghyuck didn’t know what to do without him.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck couldn’t say how long he sat on the greyed carpet, underneath the intermittently flickering fluorescent lights. By the time he gathered the will to move, his tears had already dried on their own. His head ached, as it always did when he cried too hard and for too long. His heart was in a worse state.

Donghyuck slowly, mechanically packed up. He crouched down to pick up Mark’s beanie, and dropped it in his bag. He tried not to not let his touch linger on the then-cold fabric for too long. He knew that, if he did, his thoughts would linger with it.

He resisted the temptation to leave the spellbook there, cracked open on the library floor. He just wanted it gone. He didn’t want to ever see it again, but he didn’t want it to fall in some other student’s hands. So Donghyuck slipped it into his backpack, too.

On the elevator, Donghyuck cast his gaze down. He looked at the scuffed up floor, as the elevator fell and students from various floors shuffled on and off. They were all in a dazed stupor. Donghyuck thought that he probably looked no different from the rest of them.

The winter sun was a bright ball hanging high in the sky by the time he stumbled out of the library. He squinted up at it momentarily, before casting his gaze back down, and shuffling away.

The sharp, aching pain he’d felt when Mark had first disappeared had vanished. His ache wasn’t sharp. It was thorough. It filled him from head to toe, a frozen feeling that made his every movement sluggish. Every thought dripped by, short and fleeting. Trying to grasp any emotion other than ache was futile, trying to discern what he was feeling was like trying to make out something buried beneath the surface of an ocean water, choppy in storms. Vague, impossible.

When Donghyuck got back to his dorm he felt gratitude, momentarily, for Jeno’s absence. It meant he wouldn’t have to bother masking his feelings, whatever they were. He could hardly pick them out, other than the overwhelming feeling of being lost, unmoored.

He slung off his backpack and sunk to the ground, leaning up against his bed rather than sitting on it. He didn’t even want to contemplate getting onto his bed. It’d only been a week, he reminded himself. Only a week of sharing the nights with Mark. There was no reason for him to find the thought of his bed inextricable with thoughts of Mark.

Donghyuck’s eyes had started to prickle again. Mark had left his jacket, he’d realized. It was still hanging on Donghyuck’s bed post. Donghyuck hadn’t even thought about it when he’d first walked in, he was so used to seeing it there.

Mark hadn’t even thought to take it before going and vanishing on Donghyuck. He’d only been wearing Donghyuck’s hoodie. Donghyuck’s favorite hoodie. And Donghyuck didn’t know if he’d ever see that hoodie again.

“Shit.”

Donghyuck brought his palm up to knead his aching forehead.

“Fucking shit,” Donghyuck cursed, without vigor. He dropped his hand, dropped his head. He let it fall back onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling. He looked at the vague patterns, the mysterious stains and said, dismal, “My favorite hoodie.”

He was looking in the wrong direction, he thought. Donghyuck lowered his gaze. Pointedly, he glared at the carpet, as best as he was able.

“You asshole,” he hissed at the ground. His voice cracked on the last word, lessening the effect.

His throat was aching again. Donghyuck wished he could still feel his lips tingling, he wished he could still feel the phantom brush of Mark’s lips against his, rather than the ache throughout. Donghyuck brought his fingers up, to his lips.

“You asshole,” he tried again, softer, and softened even further when muffled through his fingers, “where did you go?”

Donghyuck spent the rest of the day in a daze. He felt tethered to his dorm, unable to leave. He gnawed on a protein bar as he stared at his laptop screen, trying to figure out what exactly he was meant to be doing, why he was so concerned about writing a review for his bio 101 class to begin with.

His laptop was working again, like magic. It’d started up with just a brush of his fingers against the power button. But what good did that do if he didn’t even feel like working on it anymore?

He tried to go through the motions. He tried to think of what he would have done, had everything been different, had he not found that spellbook, had he not had the stupid idea to try and summon a demon, had the incantation failed. What would he be doing, had getting feelings for Mark not been as easy as laying eyes on him?

Donghyuck would have been studying, had the past week not happened. He should have been studying, then. He tried to, because he couldn’t just sit around and wait for Mark to come back. He couldn’t just pine, endlessly.

Donghyuck plugged in his headphones, started up a study playlist he hoped wouldn’t remind him of Mark. He closed his eyes, let the tranquil tune wash over him, the soft trill of the piano intermingled with the languid notes of a singer. That wouldn’t do, not at all. Donghyuck switched over to another playlist of his, a summery one that didn’t fit his mood, or the weather. The words felt too bright, the music too upbeat.

He winced, rolled his shoulders, and drew up his study guide for his first final. Donghyuck got to work, because it was all he could do.

At some interminable point later, Jeno must have returned. Donghyuck didn’t notice, as unfocused as he was, as much as he’d raised the volume on his music. He didn’t realize he wasn’t alone in the dorm anymore until Jeno passed right in front of him, knelt by him, and waved in his face.

Donghyuck jolted alert, pausing with his fingers poised above the keyboard. He watched as Jeno’s lips spread into a grin. He could hear his laughter through the music. Donghyuck reached up and tugged his headphones out of his ears.

The music cut out and Jeno’s laughter filled Donghyuck’s ears in place of it. He blinked, as the veil descended and the real world came rushing in.

“ – the ground?” Jeno was saying, as he crouched in front of Donghyuck.

“Huh?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno’s smile dimmed, somewhat, took on a tinge of uncertainty.

“I, uh,” he cocked his head, “I asked why you were sitting on the ground?”

Donghyuck looked at his surroundings, at the empty wrapper of the protein bar by his knee, at his backpack, open, supplies spilling out on the carpet beside him. He looked back up at Jeno’s uncertain smile, wondering if he ought to tell him, if he could even begin to explain what was wrong.

After a split second of consideration, Donghyuck spoke.

“I like it down here,” he said, then shrugged.

It wasn’t hard to lie to Jeno. In fact, it was kind of easy. Jeno accepted it, just as easily. His smile returned in full force, and he chuckled at Donghyuck as he rose from his crouching position.

“Huh. Might get a little uncomfortable, but you do you,” Jeno said, before turning around, and walking towards the shelves by his bed. As Donghyuck watched him go, he let out an exhalation. He felt relieved, the weight of having to explain anything when he could hardly begin to understand any of it lifted off his chest.

Jeno was humming. He smiled, as he slipped off his coat and hung it onto a hanger, then slipped it into his closet. Donghyuck couldn’t place the tune he was humming. It was upbeat, vaguely recognizable.

Belatedly, he realized that Jeno wasn’t sniffing. His face wasn’t flushed. Donghyuck felt a pang. His friends had been the whole reason he’d asked Mark to help him break the curse to begin with and he’d forgotten to check up on them.

“Feeling better?” he asked, tentative.

As Jeno responded in the affirmative, Donghyuck felt the odd sensation of simultaneous relief and worry.

The sensation grew, as Jeno explained.

“I started feeling better this morning. I guess I wasn’t sick, after all. Maybe it was just allergies or something? I dunno,” His grin was bright, as he flopped onto his bed and pulling his laptop towards himself, “I’m not gonna question it though.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck smiled, small, back at him. He wondered if Jeno’s allergies had anything to do with the curse, and what it meant now that Jeno had recovered, “That’s good. You won’t be sick for finals. That’s gotta be… awesome.”

Trying to hold a conversation was fucking awful, Donghyuck concluded. He hoped Jeno’s good mood wouldn’t be affected by his inability to be a functioning human being.

Jeno shot Donghyuck a funny look, but he didn’t stop smiling, “Yeah. It’s awesome.” Donghyuck exhaled another sigh of relief, as Jeno swung his legs up onto his bed and reclined, facing away from Donghyuck. With Jeno’s eyes off of him, Donghyuck felt less pressured to pretend to be alright.

“I was feeling good enough to finally pay Renjun a visit,” Jeno continued, “Think I convinced him to stop putting off seeing Jaemin and come back already.”

Donghyuck’s odd feeling grew. Renjun hadn’t wanted to come back when Donghyuck had visited him over the weekend. Now that Mark was gone, now that the curse might’ve been broken, he was willing to come back. Relief, and worry, and ache.

“Oh. That’s great.”

This was what Donghyuck had wanted, he reminded himself. He’d wanted things to go back to normal. Things were getting back to normal. His friends were feeling better, and acting normally.

It was one thing to tell himself that. It was another thing entirely to make himself believe it.

Jeno snorted. He didn’t look from his laptop screen as he repeated, “Yeah. Great.”

Donghyuck had hoped he was done crying. He still ached, but he could almost feel himself growing used to it. He was able to forget about it, to forget about Mark, for minutes at a time. Then Jeno turned out the lights, and went to bed, and Donghyuck realized he ought to do the same. Then he looked at his empty bed, and couldn’t hope to forget.

Donghyuck slipped under the covers, under the blankets that felt inadequate to warm him against the cool air. He laid his head on the pillow that still smelled of him. Dangerous, fiery, yet with that little curl of sweetness to it.

Donghyuck jammed his eyes shut, breathed in, breathed out. He hugged his blanket and filled his lungs with the smell of the demon he was starting to fear he’d never get the chance to see again. He tried not to think, though his thoughts kept drifting back to the memory of how Mark’s lips had felt against his. He kept seeing Mark’s eyes, shining, as he had said goodbye, looking as close to tears as Donghyuck had ever seen him.

Donghyuck dragged the blanket over his head, to muffle any sounds that might escape him and to hide himself from the light of the moon, as it loomed bright and clear in the night sky. He thought, for a moment, that maybe he’d preferred the sharp pain that he’d felt as Mark had said goodbye. That had to be preferable to his unending hollow ache.

Donghyuck was getting fed up with drying his own tears.

☾

It took waking up in the same state he’d fallen asleep in – cold and alone – but, as Donghyuck sat up, he looked to the empty space by him, and he finally accepted it. As the weak winter morning sun failed to warm the room, as Jeno slept soundly, quietly, Donghyuck stopped wishing.

He wasn’t coming back.

There hadn’t been a single night without him since they’d met. Last night was the first. He wasn’t coming back.

For once, the heat in their ages-old dorm building seemed to be fully functioning. Donghyuck wasn’t sure it was doing him any good, though. He could feel his toes and the tip of his nose, but he still felt frigid, frozen.

Jeno was wrapping a scarf around his neck, probably readying himself for a trek through the crisp air.

“Where’s Mark?” he asked, out of nowhere, not even giving Donghyuck time to prepare.

“He’s gone,” Donghyuck said. His voice nearly cracked on the second word. He covered it, with a hum, and purposefully looked away from Jeno. He drew his blanket higher up, to his chin. Maybe Jeno would get the message that he wasn’t in the mood for talking about it right then.

“Gone?”

Then again, maybe not. Donghyuck sighed. He rose from bed. He felt Jeno’s curious gaze on him as his eyes drifted sideways, to the empty spot where Mark should have been.

“He left,” Donghyuck said, before forcing his eyes away from the vacant space, up to Jeno. Jeno was frowning, an odd expression on him.

“What do you mean ‘he left’?” Jeno asked.

I mean, Donghyuck thought, that we were just sitting in the library, talking, and he came up to me, kissed me when he said he couldn’t and popped out of existence, taking the curse with him.

“He went back to Canada,” Donghyuck said instead, miserably, recalling Mark’s choice of home. He wondered, too late, why Mark had been insistent on Canada. He wondered if the place was somehow special to him, if he’d ever get the chance to find out.

“Ah, man,” Jeno’s lip corners pulled down, “That blows.”

Donghyuck snorted, feeling a brief sensation of something other than pure, hollow nothing at Jeno’s blunt observation, then feeling surprised with himself for feeling anything at all.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck exhaled, “Yeah, it does.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping off imaginary vestiges of traces of his tears from the night before. He felt ridiculous, but he wondered if the hollowness was because he was missing something. Someone.

“Me and Jaemin are going out for breakfast at that diner on twenty-third street,” Jeno started. Gradually, his smile crept back onto his face, “Actually, I guess it’s technically lunch by now. Brunch? You could join us, if you wanted.”

Donghyuck wanted nothing other than to stay in the dorm room, to avoid having to interact with people, to pretend he was feeling alright. It sounded exhausting.

“I don’t want to shower and change...” He tried, trailing off. Jeno’s smile broadened.

“Dude, if you don’t want to, then don’t. Whatever. It’s finals. No one gives a shit. Just borrow some of my Axe and you’ll be good.”

Donghyuck could appreciate what Jeno was trying to do. He could play along, he supposed. He screwed up his face, “Oh, God no. I’m never gonna be that helpless.”

Donghyuck wasn’t normally one for using any sort of fragrance. He had his shampoo and conditioner that he’d bought in bulk and that smelled of coconut. He had his laundry detergent, fresh, clean. But he kept a little bottle of vanilla extract buried deep atop the pile of miscellaneous makeup and skincare products on his dresser.

He dabbed a coupled spots behind his ears, on his wrists. The rich, subtly sweet scent reminded him of his parents’ home. It overwhelmed the smell of a lit match. Donghyuck felt relief and panic, all at once. On impulse, upon catching sight of Jeno fidgeting with his scarf, he reached for Mark’s jacket. He slipped it on, and the panic seizing his throat receded. Vanilla, intermingled with that now-familiar, comforting scent.

Jaemin and Jeno talked about their differential calculus final as Donghyuck pushed around his overcooked diner eggs.

“...But Professor Park wouldn’t include those proofs on the exam, right? He didn’t make us do any of those for the last midterm.”

Donghyuck thought that maybe he should have just gone with his gut and gotten pancakes.

“That’s exactly what Park would do, though. He’s probably gonna make half the exam material we haven’t covered yet.”

He wondered if he was just imagining it or if things tasted duller, now. Chewing felt like a chore. He was probably imagining it, or it was probably just the eggs. They were kind of rubbery, after all.

“Ugh,” Jaemin groaned, drawing Donghyuck out of his consideration of his eggs. He slumped back against his chair, “Park would. Now I’m scared. Can we go over L’Hopital’s Rule again? And compositions?”

Donghyuck wasn’t even entirely sure what language Jaemin was speaking at that point. He let out a small sigh, dropped his fork quietly, and pushed his plate away. He wasn’t really hungry anyways, he decided.

“I don’t know why you’re scared,” Jeno said. Donghyuck dropped his chin in his hand and lazily flicked his eyes to Jeno. Jeno was smiling, as always, grinning at Jaemin.

“You always end up setting the curve in the class. If anyone’s scared, it should me,” Jeno continued, to which Jaemin snorted.

“Okay. Fair. Dude, I don’t even know how you missed that question about limits at infinity on the last exam.”

Donghyuck felt inconsequential, he realized, with a jolt. He could intrude in on their conversation. He could shift it to something he understood. They wouldn’t mind. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to bother them. He had nothing to say, anyways. Not unless he wanted to talk about how rubbery the eggs were.

“Oh fuck,” Jaemin’s voice sounded entirely different. Donghyuck looked up from his eggs again. Jaemin was staring down at his phone, his lips spread into the broadest grin, his eyes shining.

Donghyuck blinked. He wondered what Jaemin possibly could be looking at, to have shifted his mood so drastically in a matter of seconds.

“Renjun asked where I put my stapler,” Jaemin said, light, airy, almost a sigh. He eagerly unlocked the phone, and his fingers started to fly across the screen.

Donghyuck’s brows drew low. That hadn’t made anything clearer. He glanced at Jeno, but Jeno was no help. He was just looking thoughtfully at Jaemin, with a slight smile fixed on his face.

Donghyuck waited for further explanation, but even after Jaemin had finished typing out a reply, and had carefully set his phone down face up on the diner’s linoleum table, none seemed to be forthcoming.

“I don’t get it,” Donghyuck said, finally. His voice sounded off, even to himself. Rusty. He figured no one would notice, at least.

“If Renjun needs to borrow Jaemin’s stuff, it means he’s back at their dorm,” Jeno explained, and suddenly his sanguine smile made sense, “Renjun’s back, Hyuck.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck’s eyes went to Jaemin, alighting first on his broad, goofy grin, then falling down to the barely visible hickeys that were still littered across his akin, “Oh no.”

At Donghyuck’s nudging, Jeno wrapped his scarf around Jaemin’s neck before they left the diner, to Jaemin’s confusion.

“It’s not even that cold?” he’d said, to which Donghyuck had sighed and Jeno had smiled, and said, “Better safe than sorry. Getting sick for finals would suck, trust me.”

Donghyuck looked over his shoulder as he and Jeno parted ways with Jaemin, leaving him behind in front of the door to his dorm. He sighed.

“He’s gonna fuck this up.”

Curses and magic may have been real, demons were actually cute and charming and altogether confusing and prone to breaking one’s heart, but one thing remained unchanged: Jaemin would never be able to convince Renjun to go out with him.

“You need to have a little more faith in him,” Jeno hummed, “Where did your positivity go?”

Donghyuck flinched and regretted it moments after, as Jeno looked at him with a curious look on his face. Donghyuck cast his gaze from Jeno’s, and hunched deep into his borrowed jacket, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Wish I knew.”

Donghyuck tried to focus on studying. He really did. He forced himself to shower and put on clean clothes. He even made himself wear one of his own jackets, so the smell of Mark’s wouldn’t distract him.

But his thoughts kept drifting. They flitted, from subject to subject. From something innocuous, like the format of the exam, to his friends, to whether Renjun and Jaemin were speaking at that very moment. No matter the course his thoughts took, they always landed back on Mark.

He was relieved when his phone lit up with a text from Jaemin, simply because it drew him out of his spiral.

from: jam

i was right  

something’s off with him :(

Donghyuck barely refrained from sighing. He supposed that was progress, at least. He felt a twinge for Jaemin, suddenly more sympathetic to his plight. Suddenly less sympathetic too. The guy he was pining after was right there, right across the room from him. It’d be so easy to reach out to him.

Donghyuck stared down at Jaemin’s text for a brief moment. He tapped out a reply, before he could think better of it.

to: jam

what?

really???

 maybe you should ask him what’s wrong

There, he thought. Jeno couldn’t even be mad at him for interfering, because he’d only given Jaemin just the slightest nudge in the right direction.

from: jam

really!

Then, a half second later:

holy shit

Donghyuck’s heart thumped. It lurched forward, minutely. He hastily typed out a questioning reply.

from: jam

oh no everything’s fine

i mean not really  

i mean yes it’s fine but he just looked at me :(

bro he’s so cute :((

Donghyuck was going to murder Jaemin, he decided. He was going to do it the old fashioned way, without curses, magic, or demons. He’d be merciful, though. He’d make it quick.

from: jam

he told me my scarf didn’t match my outfit

that was the longest thing he’s said to me

since he got back :(

to: jam

rip

Donghyuck traded a few more messages with Jaemin, trying to be patient, to understand what he was going though. It was aggravating, and that was finally an emotion other than pure ache so for that, for Jaemin, Donghyuck was grateful.

After twenty minutes, he’d finally convinced Jaemin that he didn’t look like an idiot wearing a scarf with his outfit, and he was rewarded for it with an admittedly sweet goodnight text, flush with hearts.

Now that that was sorted, Donghyuck was going to study, he decided. He’d study until he felt like passing out, until thoughts of soft lips and struck matches left his mind, until he could slip under his covers and not even feel the cold.

Donghyuck was having trouble sleeping, even with his plan. He crawled under the covers at two in the morning, long past when Jeno had turned off the lights and gone to bed. He tossed, and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. His bed was wide open, empty, but that somehow only made it harder to fit within it.

☾

“I’m headed out,” Jeno said, the next morning.

It took Donghyuck a moment to realize he was being spoken to. He blinked. His eyes felt overdry, after too many nights spent battling tears. He looked at Jeno and nodded in acknowledgement, before looking back down to his laptop.

He heard a sigh.

“Hyuck…” Jeno started. There was a note of gravity in his voice that set Donghyuck on alert, despite his now-familiar feeling of fatigue.

“What’s up with you?” Jeno asked.

He had his hand on the door, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He looked as though he was ready to be on his way, but he was still taking the time to ask Donghyuck what was wrong. Donghyuck swallowed. He hadn’t thought he’d been that obvious.

When he answered, it was with an even tone.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, truthfully. He knew he shouldn’t have felt this fucked up, not over a guy by all counts he barely knew.

“Did you and Mark…” Jeno began. Donghyuck’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t been ready.

“Did you two break up?”

Donghyuck thought of all the ways he could answer that, as his heart thumped a slow, steady pace deep in his chest.

No, because they hadn’t been dating. That had been fake. There was nothing to break off. Yes, because Mark had slept with Donghyuck and cuddled Donghyuck and kissed Donghyuck and he’d let him wear his jacket and that was kind of dating, right? And then he’d vanished and that was kind of like breaking up, wasn’t it?

“I’m not sure,” he repeated, again, his voice less even, his eyes falling from Jeno. His question had struck Donghyuck. He hadn’t been prepared for it, either.

“How can you not be sure if you broke up with him?” Jeno asked. He sounded just as confused as Donghyuck had felt ever since Mark had disappeared.

“Did he ghost you or something?”

Jeno’s hand fell from the door handle. He faced Donghyuck head on and, absurdly, Donghyuck nearly laughed at him. Because Mark was kind of a ghoul, because he had ghosted Donghyuck, now that he thought about it.

“I guess he did?” Donghyuck admitted. His voice faltered towards the end. It cut off as something tried to creep its way out from between his lips. He didn’t know what was threatening to escape him – a giggle or a sob. So he clamped his mouth shut.

“Wow,” Jeno frowned, “I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice.”

That was what did Donghyuck in. He snorted, he was so shocked. Then he laughed again, at how odd his laugh had sounded. Jeno’s face morphed from confusion to concern, and that only amused Donghyuck further. He was cackling, sitting on the floor by his empty bed, in his pajamas, his bare feet numb from the cold and his heart aching. And he was laughing.

“Mark’s special, I guess,” Donghyuck said, as he laughed. Jeno didn't know how true that statement was.

Jeno nodded slowly, uncertainly. He said he hoped Donghyuck would feel better soon, then lingered, then went on his way, still with that perplexed look on his face.

Donghyuck thought on it, though. He thought, and thought. He wondered why he was just sitting, waiting, confused and unsure. His fingers kept stilling over his laptop keyboard, his eyes kept drifting back to his dresser, where he’d once more hidden the spellbook. He couldn’t, he told himself. Not after all the trouble they’d went through to lift the curse the first time.

But he needed… something. Not closure. That would imply something was over, that there was a story to close. Donghyuck needed answers. He needed, more than anything, to see Mark again. To lay eyes on him, to hear his voice, his laugh. Maybe, if he was lucky for once, he could even get the chance to kiss him again.

Donghyuck let out a careful exhale. His heart had been speeding up at the recollection of the kiss. He just didn’t understand.

Donghyuck reached down almost without a thought. He lifted his laptop off, shifted, rose from the ground despite his protesting, cramped up limbs. Maybe there was a method for talking to demons, and not necessarily using them for curses. Maybe the spellbook had something like that within it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Donghyuck saw his phone light up with a new text. He froze, as the screen went dark again, and reached for it, not knowing if he’d read that correctly.

from: jam

might have done something dumb haha

Donghyuck didn’t like the sound of that. He pushed all thoughts of spells and demons from his mind. He tried to focus his full attention on Jaemin, instead.

to: jam

jaemin wtf

what did you do

from: jam

why did you assume i did anything

...that was stupid i just said i did

anyways

remember how you said i should

ask renjun why he seems sad?

wait let me just call you

Donghyuck barely had time to process what Jaemin had sent before his phone lit up with an incoming call from Jaemin. He blinked, froze, and picked it up.

“Hey – .”

“So I followed your advice, right?” Jaemin’s voice came in a rush, followed by a crunching noise, a crackling on the other end of the line.

Donghyuck placed the sound, after a moment of confusion.

“Are you eating chips?” he asked, bewildered.

“I’m stressed, and that’s not important, Hyuck. Listen to me. I asked Renjun if he was feeling okay.”

Donghyuck waited for the rest of the story. Then, after a couple long beats, he realized that was it. Feeling mounting trepidation, he prompted Jaemin on.

“Okay…”

“He said he was fine!” Jaemin said, getting heated. There was another crunching sound, then he spoke again, muffled, “But I know him better than that. But, get this, Hyuck – he was leaving, right? Going to meet up with Jeno or something.”

“...Right.”

Donghyuck couldn’t believe Jaemin had actually noticed Renjun was upset. Well, no, with all the time Jaemin spent glancing at Renjun when he thought no one was looking, Donghyuck figured it was only a matter of time before Jaemin noticed something was off. What truly surprised him was that Jaemin had actually gone and done something about it.

“I didn’t want him to just run away and for that to be the end of the conversation! So I kind of just… might have just… asked him out for coffee later to talk about it.”

Crunch.

Donghyuck was starting to see the reason behind Jaemin’s anxiety. A little bit of it, anyways.

“Oh,” he crinkled up his nose, “Haven’t you asked him out before, though?”

“Dozens of times. But, Hyuck, I’m fucking – I just. I don’t know what to do. This is the first time he’s said yes.”

Immediately after he hang up with Jaemin, immediately after comforting him and talking him down from eating a whole bag of chips, Donghyuck texted Renjun.

to: jun

hey

from: jun

hi sorry i’m kind of freaking out rn

can we talk about whatever this is later

to: jun

oh

right okay

where are you? do you need help?

Donghyuck was morbidly curious, but his curiosity would have to wait. Next on his to-do list was Jeno. He texted Jeno, asking if he was still with Renjun, asking if Renjun was fine. He’d had panic attacks before, anxiety problems. Donghyuck was worried. He shifted into action, as he waited for Jeno’s response. He slipped on his shoes, reached for Mark’s leather jacket, donned it. In no time at all, he was out the door, his phone in his hands. He didn’t know what he could do to help, if he could do anything at at all, but he’d try.

By the time Donghyuck had made his way out of the dorm, he’d worked himself up into worry. He was excited for Jaemin, who seemed thrilled, if nervous. But he couldn’t fathom why Renjun would say yes, when he never had before, when he was probably still upset from the party. Renjun’s panic afterwards was more comprehendible.

But Donghyuck was worried. He’d never been the one to comfort Renjun well. That had always been Jaemin, or Jeno. The last time he’d tried to help Renjun, Renjun had run away to his aunt’s and uncle’s house and it had taken a visit from Jeno to convince him to come back.

Jeno responded saying he was with Renjun. They’d meant to go to the dining hall together but Renjun had asked if they could pause for a bit, on the way. He said that Renjun was acting a little weird, a little quiet, but seemed otherwise alright. Donghyuck would be able to find them on the campus quad.

Donghyuck wrapped Mark’s jacket tight around him, as the winter wind whipped up whorls of dead leaves, as the grey sky grew lighter with every passing minute. He shuffled on over to the campus quad, over deserted sidewalks and through barren tunnels.

“I panicked,” Renjun said, quietly, after minutes of silence.

He was seated, his legs drawn up high, nearly to his chest. Donghyuck looked past him, to Jeno on the other side of him. Jeno looked just as lost as Donghyuck felt.

“It’s – it’s so hard to say no to him, you know?” Renjun continued. His eyes were cast low, to the trampled grass beneath them. In the distance, a church bell tolled.

“You say no to him all the time,” Jeno pointed out.

Donghyuck thought it was a fair point, but he thought he shouldn’t have tried to make it just then. Renjun’s shoulders hiked up. His brows drew together.

“That doesn’t mean it’s easy,” he said, sounding exhausted, all of a sudden, “He… he caught me off guard. He doesn’t usually ask me about my feelings, you know? I didn’t realize he was paying that close attention.”

Donghyuck closed his eyes. He inhaled, deep, grounding. He wanted to burst out and say that of course Jaemin was attentive to him, he was only in love with him, after all.

“He likes you so much more than you realize,” Donghyuck said, instead, after he’d opened his eyes.

Jeno shot him a sharp look, one of warning and Donghyuck bristled. So what? He thought. Renjun and Jaemin were making things so hard for themselves. They loved each other, they had each other, and they could be together. It seemed as easy as anything, to Donghyuck. It seemed so easy it ached him how much hurt they’d caused each other over it.

Renjun made a soft sound, skeptical. He raised his eyes slowly, to meet Donghyuck’s. He looked uncertain, his eyes wide.

Throwing caution to the wind, Donghyuck continued,

“I think you should go out for coffee with him,” he shrugged, “Let him show you how much he cares. Let him make Saturday night up to you.”

“Hyuck,” Jeno said, low, also a warning.

Donghyuck was kind of sick of not interfering, though.

“Jeno,” he shot back. He looked back to Renjun, who looked confused then, in addition to his uncertainty.

Donghyuck leaned forward, felt the leather of Mark’s jacket shift and stretch around him, felt the comfort of it, the warmth. He exhaled.

“You two are being ridiculous,” he said. Renjun’s lips parted in surprise, and Donghyuck barrelled on, “If you like each other, you should try and be together. What’s stopping you from just trying it?”

“I – we’re friends?” Renjun started, though he still looked stunned at Donghyuck’s outburst, “What if it doesn’t work out? We’ve been best friends since middle school, Hyuck. I don’t want to – I couldn’t –.”

“But what if it does work out?” Donghyuck asked, and his heart ached, as he spoke. Every word was a fresh twinge in the wound that’d been inflicted on him with Mark’s disappearance. He sucked in a lungful of crisp winter air and gathered his resolve, “You might be fine with just staying friends. But be honest with yourself, Renjun, please. If you were with him, you’d be even happier, right? Don’t you think the chance of that’s worth the risk?”

God, Donghyuck thought, let the risk be worth it for them.

Jeno sighed, heavily, but comprehension was dawning on Renjun’s face. Donghyuck saw fear there, too, in the knit of his brows, in the tension lines by the corners of his mouth. But he was finally breaking through.

“Jaemin… there’s no way he likes me the same way I like him, though,” Renjun’s voice was so small, so tentative. It was like he wanted nothing more than to be wrong, “I don’t think I could stand being just another –  just another fling for him.”

“You’re so surprised he pays attention to you,” Donghyuck’s heart ached, for the both of them. He was getting frustrated, though, “Maybe you could stand to pay a little more attention to him. Renjun, he’s been flirting with you for years and he’s been rejected every time and he still keeps trying. Has he ever acted like that with any of his flings? Don’t you realize you’re the only one he’s like that with?”

“Jesus, Hyuck,” Jeno hissed.

Donghyuck’s chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath after his rant to Renjun. He looked to the side, to Jeno. Jeno had his face screwed up, his eyes jammed shut. He looked like he was in the midst of a severe headache, and Donghyuck had no doubt he was the cause of it. He was sick of just watching Renjun and Jaemin blunder about, confused, pining after each other, and hurting each other in the interim.

“Jeno, it’s fine,” Renjun cut in, quietly. His eyes flitted back from Jeno, landing on Donghyuck again. There was a glint to them, a shine.

“Hyuck… you might have a point.”

“I do?” Donghyuck blinked, forgetting his indignation from moments before, taken aback by Renjun’s unexpected reaction.

Renjun smiled, tight, as he nodded.

“I… I might as well go tonight. It doesn’t have to be a date, anyways. I just want to hear him what he has to say.”

By the time they parted ways, Jeno and Renjun to the campus dining hall and Donghyuck to the dorms, Donghyuck was still confused how his outburst had helped. He shoved his hand deep in Mark’s jacket pocket, hoping it would save the feeling in his fingers, save them from the frigid air.

Jeno was feeling better, Renjun and Jaemin were going on a not-date and might actually talk to each other, for a change, Donghyuck hadn’t tripped and fallen since Tuesday, and with all the studying he was doing, there was no way he’d fail his finals. His luck was turning, everything was coming together. But it felt like a hollow victory. Donghyuck wished he had Mark there, to turn to, to tell him of all that had happened in his absence.

He huffed a sigh. He watched as the exhalation drifted from him, a white cloud in the chilled air. It rose and dissipated. Disappeared, vanished, leaving no trace behind.

Donghyuck wondered if he ought to try to look through the spellbook when he got back to the dorm. He thought he might be desperate enough.

“Lee Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck froze. His heart stopped with him, at the sound of his name coming from an unfamiliar voice nearby. Donghyuck turned, snapped to the source. He could have sworn the campus had been empty only moments before. But right there, just feet from him, leaning up against the side of a building was a tall man, looking at him. He was dressed in black, head to toe, a long duster coat and shiny black, pointed boots.

There was something different about him, something achingly familiar. Donghyuck inhaled, uneven, as the man grinned, and listed off the building.

“That’s your name, right?” the man asked. His voice was deep and there was a note to it, something light despite all the dark colors he had on. Something like laughter.

He was holding something in the crook of his arm, now that Donghyuck looked closer. He neared Donghyuck and Donghyuck’s heart kickstarted. The man’s ears were clipped off to points at the end. His grin bared fangs. They were longer, more monstrous than Donghyuck remembered Mark’s fangs.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck said, breathless, “That’s me.”

He was wondering if he’d truly lost it, or if there was another demon right in front of him.

The demon drew up to him, stopping maybe five feet from Donghyuck, still with that wide grin. There was something about him, something that filled Donghyuck with unease, trepidation. He was tall, Donghyuck had to crane his neck to look him in the eyes, but there was something else about him too. Some implacable aura that Mark hadn’t had.

“Thought so,” he cocked his head. Donghyuck realized his pointed ears were lined with piercings, studded and glinting all the way to their pointed tips, “You’re cute, I guess. Downright adorable for a human.”

“Uh.”

Donghyuck’s heart was beating erratically in his chest. He was stuck between running and sticking around. In the end, he decided to just roll with it. There was a random, scary demon talking to him. He’d go along with it, because the sight of another demon gave him an inkling of something he hadn’t felt for a long while. Something fluttering, something dangerously like hope.

“Thanks?”

“That’s a nice jacket,” the demon’s eyes flicked down, to the jacket, then back up at Donghyuck. His eyes were glinting, as though he was holding back laughter. Donghyuck couldn’t tell, but he had the sinking feeling that this demon knew, he knew it wasn’t Donghyuck’s, and he knew Donghyuck had been wearing it for days, pitiful and yearning.

He bristled, though. He wasn’t going to let himself be ashamed of wearing Mark’s jacket.

Even though the tall demon was terrifying, even though Donghyuck’s heart was pounding and his palms were starting to go clammy from nerves, Donghyuck tried not to show it. As the demon stared down at Donghyuck with that smug grin, Donghyuck narrowed his eyes up at him, in a glare.

“Yeah, it’s real cozy.”

Donghyuck didn’t know why he’d said that, really. The demon blinked at him, seemingly stunned, before his grin reappeared in full force. He barked a short laugh.

“I’m starting to see why you gave him some trouble,” the demon said, and something in his voice had shifted, gone warmer. He shifted his grip on the bundle in his arms, offered it to Donghyuck.

It was clothes – a folded hoodie – Donghyuck’s gray hoodie, Donghyuck realized, with a sinking feeling. He stared down at it. But that meant the demon had to have gotten it directly from Mark. Why was Mark making someone else bring Donghyuck’s hoodie back for him? Why wasn’t he doing it himself? Donghyuck felt his heart jump up into his throat. He didn’t care about the stupid hoodie, he wanted Mark.

“I got him that jacket myself,” the demon was saying, and Donghyuck barely registered the words he was saying, as thoroughly as he realized it hadn’t ever been about the hoodie from the start.

“I swear that moron’s favorite pastime used to be running out into the cold. He’d spend hours roaming Hell’s streets, only to come back all shivering and numb. Used to have the nerve to say he was just chilly too,” the fondness in the demon’s voice drew Donghyuck’s eyes up from the hoodie. The demon’s smile had gone smaller, close lipped. He shook his head, “Mark’s always been a bit of an idiot when it comes to keeping himself safe.”

Donghyuck felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He felt winded, as if hearing Mark’s name had drawn the breath from his lungs.

“Why do you have that?” he asked, tight, his throat aching, “Where is he?”

The demon looked down at the hoodie, slowly. He made a soft sound, then looked back up. The smile was gone from his face. He looked thoughtful. He wasn’t answering Donghyuck’s questions.

“Where’s Mark?” Donghyuck repeated, uncaring that there was a note of desperation in his voice.

“He couldn’t be here,” the demon said. He sounded distracted, as he peered curiously at Donghyuck, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Recently, Donghyuck was starting to get the feeling that he hardly knew anything at all. That the world was so much bigger than he’d ever been led to believe, and all the rules and statuses he thought were immutable were far more flexible than he could have ever imagined. But that was one question he knew the answer to, one answer that would never change.

“Yes,” he replied, simply, broken, “I do.”

A smile broke out across the demon’s face. His eyes crinkled up and, despite his bared fangs, he looked warm, inviting, nothing like the intimidating demon he’d first appeared to be.

“Good,” he winked at Donghyuck, confusingly, “I would’ve been very upset with you if you didn’t.”

He shifted his hold on the hoodie, tucking it back under his arm. Donghyuck watched bewildered, unsure what ‘couldn’t be here’ could have meant, somehow caring more about that than the fact that this giant, scary demon had almost just threatened him.

The demon reached into his jacket, withdrew something from within it, an inner pocket. It was a slip of paper, small, snow white.

“He wrote this for you,” the demon said and, greedily, nerves spiking, Donghyuck reached for it immediately. He was far more excited about receiving that tiny piece of folded paper, flimsy in his fingers, than he could have ever been for his hoodie.

The demon laughed, loud and full bodied, as Donghyuck snatched the paper from his hands. He unfolded it, and started to read. His heart was pounding quickly, as it hadn’t since Mark had vanished. His lips tingled, phantom memories of their last time seeing each other cropping up.

      Donghyuck,

Oh, Donghyuck thought. Oh no.

Every emotion he thought he’d overcome, every ache, every emptied feeling came roaring back, just upon the sight of his name scrawled out by Mark’s hand.

He kept reading, because it was all he could do.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck,

Oh, Donghyuck thought. Oh no.

Every emotion he thought he’d overcome, every ache, every emptied feeling came roaring back, just upon the sight of his name scrawled out by Mark’s hand.

He kept reading, because it was all he could do.

This is a little awkward, isn’t it?

I’m kinda not allowed to visit Earth at the moment, though. Some powerful people didn’t like me doing what I did. I had to beg Johnny to go to Earth and deliver this to you. He really doesn’t like people hahaha. Maybe once he meets you, he’ll see that he’s missing out.

I figured I should say goodbye properly. I promised you I would, after all. My first try was kinda rushed. It took me awhile to get my mind working again after the kiss.

I’m sorry I had to kiss you, by the way. I really only meant to just kiss you lightly, like they do in the stories. I thought I could just do it once, and the curse would be broken. I couldn’t even do that right. You make it impossible for me to be the demon I want to be. I thought I’d managed to toughen myself over the years, at least a little. Then you crept under my skin, Donghyuck. You’re kind and caring and you had to go and soften my rough edges.

I keep thinking about you. I feel like I should say sorry again. It’s selfish of me to tell you this but I miss you, Donghyuck. I miss you so much. I didn’t realize how much brighter you made things until you weren’t around anymore. I thought I liked my home, but I think I’d like it better if you were here. It seems so much dimmer here, now that I know how bright days are, with you in them.

I hope you’re still just as bright. I hope you don’t miss me as much as I miss you. I hope you’re reading this letter and you think I’m crazy, or pitiful, or something, because I’m still stuck on you.

Maybe when my boss lets me leave in a decade or so we can catch up. By then you’ll have found someone and forgotten all about me. I know you will. Even for humans, a week’s a short time.

The week might’ve been hell for you, Donghyuck, but it reminded me that even though I’m evil, even though I’m taught to do wicked things, I can still be treated the way you treated me. I’m still not sure I deserved your kindness, but I’m so grateful for it, Donghyuck. I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for treating me softly.

I’m sorry I left with your hoodie and couldn’t give it back in person, but maybe this is for the best? Maybe we needed a clean break. Things probably couldn’t ever work out between us, anyways. You’re a human, and I’m a demon. Now I’m a demon who can’t leave hell.

Goodbye, Donghyuck. I’ll miss you more than I can say.

There was a smudged spot at the very bottom of the note, as if a word had been written, then erased. Written just after it, in an untidy scrawl, was Mark’s name.

Donghyuck couldn’t say how many times he read the note over, how many different sentences he focused in on. He didn’t know how many times he felt his heart stop, only to restart beating quicker than it had since Mark had kissed him and left.

Mark was sorry. Mark couldn’t leave hell. Mark thought he was bright, so bright and he missed him as much as Donghyuck missed Mark. Donghyuck felt wrecked, felt nearly incapable of speaking his throat was so closed up. He swallowed, thick. He was glad he’d already cried out all his tears over the past days, or he’d be crying right then and there in front of the giant demon, Mark’s apparent friend.

He wanted to see him. He wanted to yell at him, just a little, for being so quick to say that things couldn’t work out between them. Donghyuck was nothing if not determined. The ache was all the more keen now that he knew that Mark felt the same. He couldn’t see how it was selfish at all for Mark to want to tell him. If Mark was selfish, then Donghyuck was selfish too.

Donghyuck sniffed, then he looked down at the paper again, scanned it again. With a sudden light sensation lifting him, raising his shoulders, he felt a corner of his mouth quirk up into a smile.

“He’s such a dork,” Donghyuck said.

He swiped his thumb over the words at the bottom of the paper, trying to imagine what Mark must have looked like as he was in the midst of writing it. He could practically see the expression on his face, focused, hyperserious. He’d probably been biting his lip as he wrote. Donghyuck’s smile broadened at the image of that. He felt less heavy, less hollow, even though his ache felt all the more severe for it.

“He said a clean break would be good, then he goes and makes plans for a date ten years from now,” Donghyuck reported, to the demon.

He wanted to tell Mark that he wasn’t crazy or, at least, that they both were crazy together. He wondered if all demons were this sentimental, this careless with their hearts, or if it was just Mark.

The tall demon snorted. He looked amused, but not in the least bit surprised. Mark had mentioned a name – Johnny. Donghyuck wondered if that was the tall demon.

“Shit. He’s so far gone.”

“Your name’s Johnny, right?” Donghyuck asked, uncertain.

The demon nodded and Donghyuck barely even felt a jolt of surprise. Of course. He’d met two demons, and they’d been named Mark and Johnny. That made perfect sense.

“Johnny,” Donghyuck began, quiet, his voice small, “What does he mean when he says he can’t leave Hell?”

Johnny smiled at Donghyuck, sheepishly.

“Oh. That.”

“‘That’?” Donghyuck repeated, in disbelief.

Johnny sighed. He reached his hand up, pushed it through his hair. Donghyuck watched as the strands, so dark a shade of black they appeared almost blue, fell perfectly back into place in the wake of the disruption.

“The first thing you should know is that Mark’s not in trouble trouble. We’re not torturing him or anything,” Johnny said, “We just… didn’t know what to do with him. Demons don’t have many rules, Lee Donghyuck. We’re given a lot of free reign. Mark managed to break one of the few set guidelines. He interfered. He lifted a human’s curse.”

Donghyuck felt as though the hand gripping his heart had clenched tighter. He’d asked Mark to help him. He wondered if Mark had known what he was risking, when he’d agreed.

“That’s a stupid rule,” Donghyuck said, low, “What idiot thought that shit up?”

Johnny’s eyes snapped up in the wake of Donghyuck’s question. He watched the sky for a moment, his eyes narrowed. His smile was gone. In its place was grim, set line. Donghyuck couldn’t be bothered to be nearly as concerned as Johnny looked to be. He was preoccupied. He felt awash with guilt for asking Mark to help him.

After a long spell where nothing happened, not a faint rustling or a slight movement, Johnny’s face relaxed. He snorted before lowering his gaze. Donghyuck wasn’t sure why exactly, but Johnny’s smile as he stared down at Donghyuck seemed almost fond.

“I think I like you,” he said, “I can’t tell if you’re crazy or if you’re just dumb, but you’re one of the more interesting humans I’ve met.”

Donghyuck sighed, “Thanks. I’m probably a little bit of both.”

Summoning a demon, falling for said demon – those were some fairly ill advised moves on Donghyuck’s part. He couldn’t figure out if he was stupid or crazy, either.

“Mark’s stuck in Hell?” he asked again, miserably.

Johnny’s grin dimmed. His lips slid down over his fangs, concealing them. He nodded, his eyes glinting, shining in that way Donghyuck had only seen Mark’s shine before. His gaze wasn’t quite as bright as Mark’s, but the gleam was a painful enough reminder.

A decade, Mark had said. A decade, at the very least. Ten years to see him again. Would ten years be enough to wear away at his feelings for Mark? Would ten years be long enough to make him forget? A gust of wind blew by, stronger than any Donghyuck had felt up until then that day. It rustled Donghyuck’s hair, sending it askew. It hardly affected Johnny at all, though his coat flapped furiously about him.

Donghyuck pulled Mark’s jacket tight around him, blocking out the cold.

“I’m writing back to him,” Donghyuck declared, over the whistling wind gusts.

He shivered, as he dropped his backpack and made to unzip it. He saw Johnny’s mouth curl down into a frown. He looked away to dig through his backpack for a pen and paper.

“How do you expect to send a letter to Hell?” Johnny asked, astounded.

Donghyuck didn’t reply and, after a moment, Johnny continued, “Oh, no. You weren’t assuming I was going to deliver it, were you?”

Donghyuck glanced up, barely registering Johnny’s expression of disbelief before he looked back down, “Why can’t you?”

His fingers brushed up against the metal spiral of his chemistry notebook. Donghyuck drew out the notebook, and a pen. He sunk to the ground, before he opened his notebook to a fresh page, flipping past formulas and stoichiometric equations.

“I’m three thousand years old,” Johnny muttered. There was a touch of surliness to his tone, “I have better things to do with my time than to deliver some human’s love letters to my idiot friend.”

Donghyuck paused. He froze, his grip tensing on his pen. He looked up at the demon, trying to tell if he was being serious. Donghyuck had been so caught up in thinking of what he might possibly say to Mark, what he could possibly convey in a letter. He’d hardly considered that Johnny, his one fragile connection to Mark, might not even be willing to help him.

Johnny’s lip was curled but, if Donghyuck had to assign an emotion to his expression it would be discomfort, not disgust.

Donghyuck wasn’t sure it was wise to push. He didn’t want to make the supposedly millennia-old demon more uncomfortable, but he couldn’t let his one chance to communicate with Mark slip by without fighting for it.

Donghyuck inhaled a lungful of wintry air. He tried not to blink too often, though his eyes were starting to prickle all over again. He tried to hold his gaze steady with Johnny’s, though he towered over Donghyuck with Donghyuck seated on the ground.

“Please?” Donghyuck asked, because he wasn’t above begging. Donghyuck tried to smile up at Johnny. He wasn’t sure how successful he was, based on the way Johnny’s face fell minutely.

“It won’t be too much effort on your part but it’d mean everything to me,” Donghyuck confessed.

Donghyuck could tell the instant Johnny crumbled, the moment he cracked. He kept his expression somber, as Johnny fidgeted uneasily, as he shifted side to side.

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair. With the eyes and the pout…”

He stared at Donghyuck for another beat, before he threw his gaze up and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“– fuck. Fine.”

Donghyuck stared at Johnny, stunned his ploy had worked. After a moment, Johnny lowered his eyes to Donghyuck and quirked his brow.

“Well, get writing. I don’t have all day.”

Donghyuck blinked.

“Oh,” he sounded out.

He cast his gaze down, to the blank sheet of paper in front of him, wondering if it’d be enough, wondering if he could even summon up two words to string together at the same time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d written a letter, nevermind a letter with such importance as the one he was writing to Mark.

“Oh.”

In the end, Donghyuck wrote as honestly as he could. He tried to write as honestly as Mark seemed to have done. He still wasn’t sure if his words were enough to convey his feelings, but it was something. Maybe Mark could take the smallest relief from Donghyuck’s letter. Maybe he’d feel some fraction of the emotions his letter had made Donghyuck feel.

Dear Mark,

Fuck you.

At least a little, anyways.

You broke my heart when you disappeared like that. And you had to kiss me so sweetly right before you left me, too. I don’t get what you mean by had to kiss me. Fuck, Mark, that makes it even worse. What do you mean you had to kiss me to break the curse? Please don’t tell me you only did that out of some obligation or something. That moment takes up half my thoughts, and most of the other half is filled with thoughts of you too.  

Even though I’m pissed at you, I miss you (and your cute face). You might not have been here that long but somehow you made yourself right at home in my heart and I’m even more pissed at you for that. Falling asleep without you to talk to beforehand sucks and waking up alone sucks even more. I don’t know if this is your doing, if you used some magic on me before you disappeared, but I’m cold every morning now. I’m sure I didn’t used to be, before I woke up every morning with you clinging to me.

Things aren’t all bad, I guess. My friends are doing better. Jeno’s well. Renjun and Jaemin are talking. Actually, they might be going on a date later… it took literal divine intervention to get them to this point.

How’s life in Hell? Is it really that dark there? Maybe I can convince Johnny to bring you back something from Earth to brighten it up for you, at least a little. You made my days brighter too. I don’t know how to describe it but it’s like everything’s dull now. Maybe it’s always been dull, it’s just that you made things seem more vibrant and now it’s all just gone back to normal. The thing is, normal sucks now that I know what life could be with you beside me.

I hate this mushy stuff, but I’m trying. I’m worried Johnny’s gonna sneak a look at this and laugh at me and ugh. How’s your friend so much cooler than you, Mark? He’s all tall and scary and you’re such a dork. I don’t know if I could ever find someone as dorky as you, even if I had ten years. Honestly, by the time you get out of Hell, I’ll probably still be missing you. So don’t say goodbye yet, Mark. Please.

Yours,

Donghyuck

Donghyuck had stared at the letter with his pen in hand, deliberated over it again and again. Bright , Mark had said. He wondered how he could keep being bright. It felt like he’d been dimmed, with Mark gone.

Once Johnny’s sighs had mounted and his fidgeting grew incessant, Donghyuck finally handed the letter over. It was as good as it was going to get. He doubted his could ever accurately convey enough in a single letter.

“Why’d you draw a fried egg by your name?” Johnny stared down at Donghyuck’s letter, sounding more confused than anything.

Heat rose to Donghyuck’s cheeks once he realized what Johnny was referring to. He snatched the letter from Johnny’s grasp.

“It’s supposed to be a sun,” he moaned, examining his little sketch.

He peered at the squiggly lines he’d drawn, emanating out from a sketchy center circle. He supposed it kind of did look like a fried egg. He’d just been trying to add something bright, for Mark.

“Should I scratch it out?” Donghyuck sighed. He’d drawn it in pen. He couldn’t exactly redo it.

Johnny was silent for a moment.

“No,” he said.

Donghyuck looked up. Johnny had his hand extended, for the letter.

“Don’t cover it up. He’ll like it, I think,” he said, then gave a half shrug, “I’ll let him know it’s a sun if he seems confused.”

Johnny had disappeared, just moments after Donghyuck had handed the letter over, offering a single “See ya around, kid.” Donghyuck had waited, before realizing that he shouldn’t do that. He couldn’t stand to wait, not anymore.

He walked through the deserted campus, feeling drained. He tugged Mark’s jacket tight around him. Johnny hadn’t mentioned the jacket. Donghyuck hadn’t brought it up either. His hoodie was in his backpack, but he doubted he’d wear it as often as he had before. He doubted it’d be warm enough.

Donghyuck tried not to dwell on when Mark would ever get back to him, if he even wanted to, or was able to. There were too many variables. Mark seemed to have meant it when he’d said goodbye. Maybe Donghyuck’s letter would offer him enough closure and he wouldn’t write back. There was also the possibility that Johnny could have only ever intended to deliver the one letter, and now that he’d gotten one back for Mark, he was done acting as an intermediary.

Donghyuck had already felt a dangerous upswell of hope. He couldn’t think too hard on any of those possibilities. If he did, he knew he’d lose that small ounce of hope all over again.

Donghyuck lay prone across his bed, his feet dangling in the air. He was trying to write notes, summaries of the previous exams from his elective music class. Instead, he kept etching in phrases, fragments of sentences he could have written in response to Mark’s letter, words that he regretted he hadn’t said.

He’d forced himself to put the letter away, to hide it in a folder buried deep in his backpack. That action hadn’t stopped his thoughts from dwelling on the letter though.

Jeno and Renjun were speaking in hushed tones together on Jeno’s side of the room, but the dorm was small. Donghyuck couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“ – a sweater and jeans seems pretty casual to me? I think you’re good.” Jeno was saying.

“I know I just – I’m sorry,” Renjun sighed heavily, “It’s easier to think about my outfit than… you know.”

“The date?” Jeno asked. His voice was so genuine as he asked his question. He probably didn’t even realize he’d just messed up. Donghyuck winced for him.

“It’s not a…” Renjun’s voice cracked. Donghyuck glanced up from his notes, unable to feign focus anymore. Renjun’s cheeks were bright pink, “It’s not a date. It’s a conversation over coffee.”

“Right,” Jeno said. He sounded tired. Donghyuck suspected this was an argument he had heard before. Donghyuck shifted.

“Jaemin’s going to think that sweater’s really cute, Renjun,” Donghyuck interjected. He could say that for anything Renjun wore, though.

Renjun turned to Donghyuck. Still flushed pink, he smiled. It was a tentative smile, barely visible to Donghyuck across the width of the tiny dorm, but it seemed to reach his eyes.

“Thanks, Hyuck,” he said.

Donghyuck nodded. He turned back to his notes. Upon a second look, they appeared to be more about Mark than music.

“Why did you listen to him and not me?” Jeno sounded hurt.

“Look, Jeno. I trust you on a lot of things. But when it comes to fashion… Hyuck’s Hyuck, and you’re... you,” Renjun responded, matter of fact. Jeno made an undignified whine.

Donghyuck snorted. He forced himself to stop recalling Mark’s words, and stop writing out responses to them. Though it wasn’t much of an improvement, he moved on. He scribbled doodles in the margins of his notes. His pencil strayed from notes on musical theory to the sides of the page. He drew hearts, interspersed with little fried-egg suns.

He was being ridiculous, he knew he was. Mark’s letter had been an attempt to cut things off between them, an attempt at a final goodbye. Yet here he was, doodling on his notes like he was in middle school all over again.

Donghyuck had hardly gotten a full page of notes down before a knock came at their dorm door and shook him out of his thoughts completely. In his state, his mind went immediately to a little over a week prior. He recalled the sound of Mark’s careful knock on the door following Donghyuck’s foolhardy attempt to liven up his life a little through dark magic. Donghyuck’s heart skipped. He nearly jumped off the bed.

“Johnny,” he exhaled, excitedly, as he bounded to the door. Perhaps he’d returned with a response letter already. Donghyuck had told himself not to expect much, but Johnny was already delivering.

“Johnny?” Donghyuck heard Renjun say, his voice sounding distant, far off.

“No idea,” Jeno responded.

Donghyuck reached the door and tugged it open, his heartbeat quickening in anticipation and – then he saw who was beyond it. Not nearly tall enough, and not even the littlest bit terrifying. Donghyuck’s heart dropped. His hand fell from the door handle.

“Oh. Jaemin,” Donghyuck sighed, crestfallen. He’d let himself get his hopes up. He should have known better, he thought. Jaemin’s brows drew together in concern, as he gazed at Donghyuck. His lips parted.

“Jaemin?” Renjun squeaked, from within the room, and Jaemin’s expression shifted in an instant.

He brightened. His eyes slid past Donghyuck. He peeked around him.

“Renjun?”

Donghyuck watched Jaemin’s mouth widen into a broad grin. Jaemin skirted around him and into the room, “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”

Donghyuck glanced from Jaemin’s bright grin to Renjun’s bright pink face. The silence that followed Jaemin’s greeting was loaded, awkward. Donghyuck had been expecting a letter from Mark. Instead he’d gotten his two friends staring starry-eyed at each other, like neither of them quite believed the presence of the other.

Jeno coughed, small, puncturing the silence. Donghyuck sighed, and pushed past Jaemin, letting the door close behind him. He heard Jaemin clear his throat as he passed. Donghyuck caught a glimpse of Renjun ducking his head. He looked away and collapsed onto his bed.

When Renjun spoke, his voice was weak.

“I was just… hanging out with Jeno.”

Donghyuck made a face, knowing no one would see it. Renjun was in their dorm because he’d been hoping to prevent another panic attack in the best way he knew how: Jeno’s reassurances.

“Huh,” Jaemin said. A beat passed, then, more brightly, he added, “I came up to hang out with Jeno too.”

Donghyuck couldn’t believe it. Of course. Jaemin was also nervous. Jaemin was also seeking help from Jeno. Donghyuck wondered, for a moment, why none of his friends ever sought romantic advice from him. That thought was short lived, as Donghyuck recalled the fact that he’d gone and fallen for a vanishing demon. Maybe Renjun and Jaemin were wise not to go to him for advice.

“Oh. Neat,” Renjun’s voice was even weaker.

“We can all hang out together, if you guys wanted?” Jeno tentatively entered the fray.

Donghyuck couldn’t discern if he knew how painfully awkward that might be, with Jaemin and Renjun’s ‘coffee conversation’ on the horizon. There was a long, stifling silence in the wake of Jeno’s suggestion.

“Sure,” Jaemin said, eventually, breaking the silence.

“Sounds like… the only logical solution,” Renjun pitched in, moments after.

Donghyuck resisted the urge to groan.

“I mean it’s only… what? An hour or so until you two wanted to meet up for your coffee thing? You can just go there together after we’re done here,” Jeno continued.

Donghyuck’s head snapped up, to see the reactions in the wake of Jeno’s suggestion. He wasn’t disappointed. Renjun’s eyes widened to saucers. Jaemin, meanwhile, parted his lips in an ‘o’ of surprise. Not panic, exactly. Shock, perhaps, but he didn’t look displeased either.

“That’s pretty smart, Jeno,” Jaemin said, in an awed voice.

Renjun looked as though he thought the suggestion was anything but. He looked as though he was about to be sick at any moment.

“Thanks,” Jeno smiled, seemingly relieved. Jaemin smiled back at him.

Donghyuck was stuck between sighing and laughing at the whole ridiculous situation. Renjun looked past them, to Donghyuck. He pleaded wordlessly with Donghyuck for help, lifting his brows, widening his eyes.

Donghyuck lifted a single brow back.  

“Or you could just go early since you’re both here?” he suggested, keeping his tone light.
Renjun’s mouth dropped open. He looked at Donghyuck, aghast. Donghyuck could only offer him a half shrug and as he mouthed an unapologetic ‘whoops.’

“Whoa. That’s also a good idea,” Jaemin said. He glanced at Donghyuck briefly, before turning back to Renjun. Even Jeno nodded in agreement. Renjun glared daggers at Donghyuck but he also agreed that that would work.

As Renjun was leaving, he drew up to Donghyuck and hissed an angry, betrayed, “You’re seriously the devil,” at him. Donghyuck had to laugh, without any humor at all.

He’d done the right thing by interfering. He hoped he had, anyways. They were both nervous, and he’d help cut short the time they spent anxious. In no time at all, Renjun and Jaemin would remember that they were best friends and that they knew how to talk to each other, Donghyuck figured. Even if they happened to be discussing their feelings for each other over coffee, on a date.

Donghyuck couldn’t even force himself to focus on studying. Jeno monitored his phone like a hawk for updates on the date on the other side of the dorm, while Donghyuck plugged in his headphones and started to make a new playlist. That at least felt somewhat productive, felt somewhat less like pining for a demon stuck in Hell.

“Jesus,” Jeno hissed, out of nowhere, some hours later, “No way.”

His shocked exclamations roused Donghyuck from his self appointed task. He quickly paused his music, drew out one of his headphones. The look on Jeno’s face made Donghyuck’s heart sink.

“Jaemin fucked up,” Donghyuck said, not a question.

“Yes?” Jeno said, confirming his fears. Jeno glanced up, “But also no?”

Donghyuck’s worry was put on hold before it had even properly begun.

“What?” he asked, confused.

Jeno glanced back down at his phone. He held up his finger. Donghyuck felt his impatience spike, and his worry resume. Jeno typed out a response and Donghyuck watched, with growing concern.

Finally, Jeno finished. He lowered his phone, though he kept it in his hand, with the screen facing up.

Donghyuck’s eyes flicked up from Jeno’s phone to Jeno. Jeno took a deep breath. Then he started to explain.

The date had started off as well as could it could have. Over texts, Jaemin reported that Renjun had been quiet, as he had been for days. Jaemin waited until they were seated, though, to pose his questions to Renjun. Jaemin had even waited a decent amount of time before asking, according to him. Donghyuck had to wonder if Jaemin was the best judge of that.

“How did he ask Renjun, though?” Donghyuck asked, with mounting anticipation and worry.

Jaemin had just come right out with it. Are you okay?, he’d asked. Did something happen?, he’d followed it up with, when Renjun had responded once more with a curt “I’m fine”. Was it something I did? Jaemin had asked, when Renjun had gone quiet, and looked away.

“What did Renjun say?” Donghyuck asked, “Did he say anything at all?”

He was holding his breath, as he’d perched himself on the edge of the bed. Jaemin had actually asked Renjun if he’d done something to make Renjun upset. He’d asked in a decent way too – if a little blunt. Donghyuck would need to text him later, to tell him he’d done alright.

Jeno sucked in a breath. He looked back down at his phone, before beckoning Donghyuck forward to look.

from: nana

he didn’t say anything for

the l ongest time and i knew i was right

i knew it was something i’d done

jeno i still feel so fucking shitty like

he’s been sad for this long and

i didn’t ask him about it and it turns out

it was because of me all along

fuck

anyways

he didn’t answer that either

he just asked why i didn’t dance with him

on saturday

he asked if i’d forgotten

i guess i did forget

Donghyuck’s heart lurched. So that was where Jaemin had fucked up, he thought.

He looked up at Jeno. Jeno nodded, his expression grim, and scrolled down for him.

“It gets… better,” Jeno added, after a moment.

from: nana

i didn’t answer and i guess

he figured it out and shit

he looked even sadder

i didn’t know what to do

he looked like he was gonna cry

right then and there

i knew he was two seconds from bolting

so i asked if he wanted to ditch our coffees

and go somewhere else

we’re at the pond in the middle of campus

the one he likes to sketch at

Though Donghyuck was finding it difficult to breathe, as anxiety and nerves on his friends’ behalf constricted his chest, he had to snort at Jeno’s reply: good choice!

from: nana

lol thanks

i said sorry and that i’d make it up to him..

i will, jeno, you know i will

i can’t let that fuck up ruin this with him

i’m never gonna drink that much again

oh

to: nana

oh? what happened

from: nana

nothing it’s just

he just looks really tiny rn :(

kinda want to hold his hand :((

to: nana

dude!!! yeah!

from: nana

i’m going for it lol wish me luck

“Holy shit,” Donghyuck exhaled, “no way.”

There hadn’t been any responses to Jeno’s multitude of excited and then questioning messages. That one asking for a good luck wish had been sent five minutes ago, and that was the last text from Jaemin. Donghyuck looked up at Jeno, and he shrugged. There were only two options.

Either Renjun had snapped when Jaemin went to hold his hand, and they’d find Jaemin’s body at the bottom of the pond the next day, or Jaemin had been lucky, after all. There was the possibility he couldn’t reply because his hand was occupied holding Renjun’s. He also might’ve grown tired of updating Jeno, Donghyuck supposed, but that hadn’t ever happened before.

The hand holding thing kept cropping up in his mind.

There was some small part of him, annoying, incessant in the back of his mind. He’d never gotten to hold Mark’s hand. Not for real. He thought of Jaemin and Renjun, fingers laced together, speaking about anything, everything, even maybe not-so-happy topics, as they looked out on a placid pond.

He was happy for Jaemin, that something had worked out for him. He was happy for Renjun, that he’d finally gotten the truth off his chest, that Jaemin had responded sensitively. But the more Donghyuck thought about it, the more he felt a blossoming feeling in his chest. Ugly, unpleasant, cold. Envy.

Things hadn’t been easy for Renjun and Jaemin, either, Donghyuck reminded himself. But there was hope there, for the two of them. Donghyuck swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat.

“Let’s hope Jaemin managed to be half as smooth as he thinks he is,” Donghyuck said.

The ache in his chest was making itself known again, flaring up, reminding him what he was missing. Who he was missing. Donghyuck passed Jeno’s phone back and rose from his crouched position in front of Jeno’s bed.

“Jaemin is smooth,” Jeno said, shocked that Donghyuck would think anything different.

Donghyuck couldn’t fathom where he’d gotten that misconception. He opened his mouth to respond, decided he didn’t have the energy to protest, closed his mouth. He sunk onto his bed.

“I’ll let you know what happened when Jaemin texts me back,” Jeno put in, with a nod. Donghyuck nodded back.

He hoped whatever had gone down at that pond was good. It had the chance to have a good outcome, now that Jaemin’s luck had improved. At the same time, Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear about it. It was selfish, but he didn’t like the ugly curl of envy he felt, as he heard of Jaemin and Renjun’s progressing relationship.

Jeno grew fretful, anxious, as Jaemin continued his silence. Donghyuck might’ve also felt the same nervous emotions, had Jeno’s worrying not already been so apparent. He didn’t want to add to it.

Finally, with the moon hanging high in the night sky and Donghyuck’s playlist already dozens of songs long, Jaemin texted back. Jeno gasped. Without even asking about it, Donghyuck drew out his headphones, already anticipating of Jeno’s incoming report.

“They kissed,” Jeno gasped. He jumped up from his bed, gazing at his phone with a dumbstruck expression on his face, “Oh my God, Hyuck. They kissed.”

“What?” Donghyuck’s mouth dropped open, “How? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno said. He pushed his hand through his hair, and ended up making himself look slightly manic, as he set his hair in total disarray.

“Jaemin just sent that, a smiling face, and a crying face and then he said he had to go,” Jeno typed out a message in a split second and made a slight noise of utter shock.

“Dude. They kissed.”

Donghyuck slumped back on his bed. He gazed, unfocused, at Jeno’s phone, like the small rectangle somehow had all the answers and was withholding them from Jeno and him.

They’d kissed. It didn’t make sense. But then again, maybe it did. It’d been such a long time coming. Their feelings for each other had always been there, as far as Donghyuck could surmise. All it had taken was the slightest push, a nudge from an external supernatural force to turn up the heat a notch and send them boiling over.

Everything was all sliding into place, all was coming together to form a complete story. But the tale was missing an integral piece. Donghyuck closed his eyes.

Mark, he thought, you’re not going to believe this.

It looked as though things had the chance to not only recover from where they’d been before the curse, but maybe even improve. Donghyuck couldn’t tell until he knew the whole story, and where Renjun and Jaemin were headed now. It seemed as though the damage from the curse was slowly being repaired, soothed over.

All that remained was the empty feeling in Donghyuck’s chest. But the only way he could see of healing that aching sensation of lacking something was by getting Mark back. Donghyuck screwed his eyes shut even tighter. He could hear Jeno muttering on the other side of the dorm, likely composing messages to Renjun and Jaemin alike, begging for more information.

Donghyuck thought of them, in their dorm. He wondered if they’d talk into the night, then trade kisses before falling asleep. He wondered if they’d wake in each other’s embrace, warm.

He was happy for them.

But the idea of that wouldn’t leave his mind. He wouldn’t be able to fall asleep that night.

Donghyuck couldn’t stem his spiralling thoughts. He thought circles around himself, wondering. In the silence of the night, in the stillness, the chill, he brought his hand up and pressed it to his chest. His heart was beating slow and steady. Thump thump, thump thump. Donghyuck focused on that.

He reminded himself that it was all in his head, the feeling of emptiness within himself. He’d survive, if Mark never wrote back to him. He’d lived eighteen years without him. He could keep going on, after Mark. Eventually, he’d find a way to stop relating everything back to him. Eventually, he’d be able to fall asleep alone as easily as he did before Mark came into his life.

☾

The next morning, Jaemin messaged Donghyuck. Renjun also messaged him. Donghyuck lay curled up in a ball under his covers, despite having woken from his uneven sleep hours prior. He scrolled through their messages and was able to piece together the story of what had happened the night before, despite how scattered both of their accounts were.

Renjun had lost his composure at Jaemin’s insistent questioning of him, at the concern in his voice. He’d asked about the dance because he didn’t care about Jaemin making out with the frat guy, not really. It was the fact that Jaemin had put him before Renjun that hurt the most.

Then Jaemin had suggested they skip the cafe, get out of there, because Renjun was nearly on the verge of tears. He’d led Renjun to Renjun’s favorite place on campus, the little pond in between the greenhouses and biology labs. Jaemin had apologized over and over and Renjun had known he meant it, but he still couldn’t stop feeling like he was about to cry. Then Jaemin had held his hand, and squeezed it, and Renjun’s weak walls collapsed entirely.

He’d dropped his head onto Jaemin’s shoulder. He’d rested there, as Jaemin spoke to him and issued oaths, swearing he’d make it up to Renjun. Renjun had turned up his head, at some point, and asked him how he knew Jaemin would keep them this time. Jaemin went silent (though Jaemin assured Donghyuck his ears had been filled with a staticky, buzzing sound at the time).

Renjun still seemed shaken, as he relayed Jaemin’s subsequent words to Donghyuck.

“You’re all there is, for me,” Jaemin had said.

Jaemin said that even though he fell in and out of infatuation with a new person every week, his feelings for Renjun hadn’t changed since the day they’d met, years prior, on the first day of sixth grade. Renjun had always been there, in his heart. He’d been his constant. He’d do anything if it meant keeping him happy.

Then they’d kissed.

Renjun had been the one to make the first move.

They weren’t dating, though. Renjun had made that clear to Donghyuck. He didn’t know what they were, but he wasn’t ready to jump straight into a relationship yet. He needed time to adjust. Jaemin had simply relayed that they’d kissed at the pond until a campus police car had driven by. Then they’d ran, giggling, back to their dorm and picked up right where they’d left off.

It took Donghyuck half an hour to think of appropriately excited responses for their messages. He took care to share every positive reaction he had for them, every excited notion he’d had upon reading their texts into excited words.

Then he’d slipped out of bed, tugged on Mark’s jacket, and left the dorm before Jeno tried to start a conversation with him about the previous night. Donghyuck knew it would be harder to selectively show his positive feelings in person. He felt like such a shitty person, that he couldn’t even be properly happy for his friends. They deserved better.

Donghyuck’s feet carried him to the library, to the elevators. He pressed the button for the fifth floor without a thought. He’d gone to their row, where they’d had their ill fated kiss. He asked himself what the fuck he was doing, even as he slid down onto the carpet, right where he’d been seated when Mark had kissed him.

He’d brought his schoolwork with him, hoping to polish off the last few reviews he had before his first exam just a few days from then.

He plugged in his headphones, started up his new playlist. He let the languid ballads fill his ears. He imagined the melancholy notes to be dripping through him, filling him up, patching over that gaping hole in his chest. Everything felt tight. It felt difficult to breathe, but he took a deep, measured inhale. He got to work.

Donghyuck felt a tap on his shoulder, some indiscernible time later. He jumped, jolted at the unexpected shock. His heart skipped a beat and he whipped his head around to see Johnny looming over him.

“Oh, God,” Donghyuck gasped. He fell back instinctively, away from the tall scary demon in front of him.

“Definitely not. Try again,” Johnny said, though it was muffled through Donghyuck’s music. Donghyuck gulped and tugged his headphones out.

“Johnny,” he said, breathless.

Immediately, his eyes went to Johnny’s hands. He greedily searched for a glimpse of white paper, of Mark’s reply. That’s what Johnny’s return meant. It meant Mark had written back to him. Donghyuck felt that dangerous flutter of hope, despite not seeing any hint of Mark’s letter.

“Hey, kid,” Johnny said, with a smile, “How’s it going?”

“Uh,” Donghyuck thought on that for a moment, his search momentarily abandoned, “It’s pretty hectic. Did you, uh, happen to have a response from Mark, or – ?”

Johnny scrunched up his nose, before snorting at Donghyuck. Donghyuck wasn’t sure he quite got the joke, but he didn’t have it within him to be offended. He smiled back, weak. His heart jumped up as Johnny straightened and reached into his jacket.

Donghyuck reached out as Johnny pulled out another small slip of paper, white. There was a recognizable scrawl covering its surface.

“Here you – oh,” Johnny said, as Donghyuck surged forward and snatched the paper from his hands, “Alright, then.”

Donghyuck’s laptop had fallen off his lap, landing haphazardly on its side. He didn’t bother with it, as he read Mark’s words.

Donghyuck,

You’re really something else, you know that?

I can’t believe you pouted your way into convincing Johnny to help you send me a letter back. You should be careful with that pout, Donghyuck. I’m half convinced it’s magic.

Wow. Renjun and Jaemin are going on a date? And Jeno’s already feeling better? I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am. I told you the curse could get bad, remember? Aren’t you happy it’s gone now? It seems like everything’s working out pretty nicely without me there to mess it up.

Don’t you see? Your life’s better off without me in it. It’s fine if I miss you, but don’t care too much for me, please. It’s only gonna get you hurt in the long run. Think about what you just wrote, Donghyuck. Think about the fact that you’re willing to wait ten years for me. You shouldn’t.

You’ve got no business wasting your time waiting around for me. You’re the brightest person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met angels with sunlight threaded into their clothes. Somehow, you shine brighter than them. You can do so much better than a poor excuse for a demon.

I didn’t want to break your heart. Donghyuck, you have to know how hard I tried not to do just that. I wanted to kiss you for the longest time. I didn’t want to hurt you, though, because I knew I had to leave eventually. I didn’t want to give you false hope. So I held off, even when you asked if we could.

But then I had to kiss you. I can’t believe you haven’t figured out why already. You’re so smart, Donghyuck. I thought it would’ve been obvious to you. I thought I was obvious. I thought you were just being kind by not bringing it up.

I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to let this make you miss me more. You have to promise you won’t let this change things and that you’ll keep trying to move on from me, okay?

I’m going to pretend you just agreed to that hahaha.

I actually learned some things from that sketchy spellbook of yours. It had some interesting ideas about ways to break a curse.

Did you know that love is a kind of magic too, Donghyuck?

Donghyuck’s heart was hammering at his ribcage. He felt feverish all of a sudden, where he’d been too cold when he’d started reading Mark’s letter. He read the previous sentence over again.

“No," he found himself saying, "no."

I know it sounds like bullshit. But I was desperate, okay? You looked really stressed. I just wanted to end the whole curse thing before it got any worse for you. I was even willing to try the weird love magic method from your weird old book.

I had to kiss you because I couldn’t think of any better way to show my love. I’m not too creative, sorry. It wasn’t some obligation on my part. Kissing you was something I’d been wanting to do for awhile. I’m glad I got to do it once before we had to say goodbye.

Thank you for the sun. I keep your letter on me and every time I take it out, seeing your name and your sun right by it brings me up again. Everything you do just manages to make me fall deeper.

Now try not to miss me too much, Donghyuck. Try and get over me. I think at least one of us should.

Love always,

Mark

Mark loved him. It was right there in front of Donghyuck, written in Mark’s own hand. He kept reading it over and over again, finding it impossible to believe. And yet. And yet. Donghyuck’s heart clenched. Everything else made sense. Every other thing Mark had written, he could process. Love. Love always .

But he still kept trying to say goodbye to Donghyuck. Donghyuck felt his eyes prickle. Mark wanted him to move on, even though Mark said he wasn’t able to. A sharp pain shot through his chest. Donghyuck inhaled a shaky breath, brought his hand to his chest to feel the place where the ache was the sharpest. His heart was beating at a breakneck pace.

“You good?”

Donghyuck looked up at Johnny. He didn’t bother blinking to clear the tears in his eyes. Johnny loomed over him, but he didn’t look the slightest bit intimidating. He looked concerned.

“He loves me, Johnny,” Donghyuck said.

He looked back down on Mark’s letter. He didn’t know if he was imagining it, but he thought he could see the moments of hesitation in the words Mark had penned. If he squinted, he could see signs of the words he’s labored over longer than others, where the ink bled a little more freely. Every single time he’d written ‘love’, his hesitation showed.

“Uh,” Johnny responded, “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Donghyuck smiled at him, though it was wobbly. He sniffed, raised his hand from his heart, to swipe at his eyes and remove any tears before they fell.

“That’s how he broke the curse,” Donghyuck continued then, softer, “‘t’s why he got himself trapped in Hell.”

Donghyuck felt so strange.

On one hand, seeing Mark say he loved him, in his own words, written so carefully… he felt the same happiness that he had when Mark had kissed him. He felt the same fluttering feeling the he had when he’d looked up at Mark over Mark’s freshly painted nails, only to find Mark already looking at him.

On the other hand, Mark had sacrificed any chance he had of seeing Donghyuck again because of his love. Donghyuck felt weighed down, as if there was an anvil on his chest, constricting his breathing.

“Uh huh,” Johnny said, eventually, his tone carefully neutral.

A thought occurred to Donghyuck. The weight lifted, in an instant. He flicked his gaze back up to Johnny.

“Johnny– ”

“Fuck, I don’t like that tone,” Johnny cut in, already sounding exhausted

Donghyuck grinned, a little hesitant, a little uneven. Johnny might have been right to feel that way.

“Johnny, Mark can’t come here. But that doesn’t mean we can’t see each other. Y’know, if you help me, maybe I can go to him. Maybe I can go to –.”

“You’re not going to Hell,” Johnny said, his voice firm. There was a note there, a conviction that Donghyuck hadn’t ever heard Johnny use before. Hearing it made his heart sink, “I’m serious. It’s not possible. Can’t happen.”

Donghyuck wasn’t going to let Johnny shoot down his idea so easily. His grip tightened on Mark’s letter. He rose from his seated position, and stared determinedly up at Johnny.

“Hell’s literally made for people. It can’t be impossible for me to go there.”

Johnny closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if fending off an oncoming headache.

“Dead people, Donghyuck. Hell’s for dead people and demons, and that’s it.”

Johnny’s eyes opened. Donghyuck searched him for any hint of an in, any sign of weak point he could use to convince Johnny to at least try to help him. He couldn’t find any. He felt his heart sink, further. But Donghyuck wasn’t completely deterred. He wouldn’t let his mood fall completely. He wouldn’t give up.

He nodded at Johnny, though. Small, fierce. They were at a stalemate for now, Donghyuck decided.

“‘Kay then,” he said, short, sharp, “I’m gonna write Mark something. You better bring his reply back quicker this time, okay?”

Donghyuck knelt down to the ground to dig through his backpack for his notebook and a pen.

Johnny sighed, heavy.

“Yeah, alright.”

Donghyuck’s note was short, written in the sloppiest handwriting he’d seen himself write all year, including the classes where his professors flicked through powerpoint presentations a mile a minute.

Dear Mark,

There’s no way I’m moving on from you. I’m not allowing you to say goodbye unless you come up here and do it in person, got it?

I’m gonna find a way for us to be together. Johnny’s not cooperating, but I’ll figure something out, I promise. In the meantime, until I figure something out, you’re going to keep sending me letters, okay? Don’t go quiet on me like you did for the first days after you broke the curse. I don’t know if I’ll be able to take that again.

I don’t even know what to say about your love breaking the curse. Mark, you make me so fucking happy and when you’re not here I’m sadder than I ever thought possible. I’m so fond of you, and I can’t stand it when you say things that make it seem like you think you don’t deserve me. I just wish you were here so I could tell you that in person.

I’m sorry you’re stuck in Hell because of me. I’d wait an embarrassing amount of time for you to get out. I might even wait forever.

Yours always,

Donghyuck

He signed it off with another sun, with the same squiggly lines emanating from it. Johnny took it, said the same mumble of Latin that demons always seemed to say, then disappeared. Donghyuck sunk down to the library’s carpet, made himself comfortable, and started to wait.

He knew, for the first time, that something would be coming back, that he wasn’t waiting for nothing. He felt light, for the first time. He felt the ache abate, until it was only an annoying twinge in his chest, an almost ignorable sensation.

Mark loved him. He loved him enough to break his curse, to confine himself to Hell for a decade. He’d write back. Donghyuck knew him well enough to know that.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck wasn’t left waiting long at all. He hardly had time to pull himself together enough to inspect his laptop for any damages that might have happened when he dropped it. Then, Johnny was melting from the shadows at the entrance to the library row and he was dropping his laptop all over again.

Donghyuck leapt to his feet. His heart leapt with him, and he raced to meet Johnny halfway.

Donghyuck reached for the small slip of paper Johnny was extending out towards him. Johnny was grinning. Out of the corner of Donghyuck’s eye, he saw Johnny’s grin widen, and go crooked.

“Thanks,” Donghyuck issued, as breathless as if he’d ran a mile rather than the span of half a library row.

This note wasn’t paper, he realized upon closer inspection. Mark’s letter was written on a cocktail napkin. His words were all hurried and bunched up and difficult to discern. Donghyuck wondered at it, vaguely. At that moment, he only squinted to make out what had been written.

“You’re welcome,” he heard Johnny say, faint, as he pushed all but Mark’s reply from his mind.

Donghyuck,

You know I’m not very good at saying no to you.

Maybe we could make a deal? Every letter you write me, I’ll write one back. I won’t go quiet on you again. If you ever want to stop, if you ever decide it's worth trying to move on, you can just stop at any time without explanation. I promise I’ll leave it at that.

I wish we could be together too. I’m not as sure it’s possible but you seem so determined. Maybe the universe will find it just as hard to say no to you as the rest of us do.

I wish I could be making you happy right now. I’m sorry. I’ll work harder at that.

There was a tiny sketched figure, squished between the cramped writing. Donghyuck peered closer at it, to find it was a surly looking face with pointed ears and pointed teeth. It wasn’t the best drawing, but Mark’s words beneath it confirmed Donghyuck’s suspicions on what it was meant to be.

(That was supposed to be me hahaha. Now I’m sort of there with you. He’s a little bit better looking than me, sorry.)

I’m being shouted at so I have to go now but we’ll talk again! Maybe. It’s up to you.

Love always,

Mark

Donghyuck felt the corners of his lips tug up into a smile. ‘Love always’ had been included there, once more. He raised his gaze to the sketch Mark had drawn of himself. Donghyuck had to press his lips together to restrain a broad grin from breaking out.

He’d search hard to find a way to get to Hell, to get Mark back. In the meantime, he had the promise of Mark’s letters to keep him going.

“Thanks again, Johnny,” Donghyuck said. Whether he was thanking Johnny for the letter, or thanking him because he couldn’t thank Mark himself, he couldn’t have said.

Donghyuck lifted the napkin, handling it with far more care than was necessary. He took pains not wrinkle the paper near Mark’s sketch especially.

“Uh... why the napkin?” he asked, unable to quench his curiosity. To his surprise, Johnny’s grin diminished in intensity. It looked strained, all of a sudden.

“Mark’s working at the moment.”

Donghyuck looked back down at the napkin, confused. He didn’t think demons worked, aside from the occasional curse.

“Look,” Johnny jumped in, his tone defensive, “It wasn’t like we could just let him sit and do nothing for his punishment. They wanted something a little more… substantial . This was the best we could do for him, given the circumstances.”

Donghyuck looked up, his heart sinking.

“It’s not bad, is it?” he asked, tentative. He was scared to hear Johnny’s answer, but he was just as scared not to know.

Johnny made a face.

“It’s better than torture,” he said, definitively.

That was hardly encouraging. Donghyuck searched Johnny’s face but the only thing he could pick up within it was impassiveness. Donghyuck narrowed his eyes at Johnny. He supposed Johnny gotten good at hiding his emotions over his three thousand years. Donghyuck gave in, eventually.

Donghyuck didn’t trust Johnny entirely, he wasn’t that naive, but he had a feeling that Johnny was looking out for Mark. As long as Johnny seemed to be alright with Mark’s work, Donghyuck would try not to drive himself crazy worrying over it. 

Donghyuck jotted down a response.

Dear Mark,

Johnny said you were working somewhere as part of your punishment. What’s that about? Are you doing alright? Is it getting any brighter down there?
Thank you, Mark, for the deal. Can I tell you? You’re already making me happier. Your little Mark was perfect, actually. He even has that face you always used to make when I played with your ear. Grumpy...

Everytime you tell me love me it makes me want to storm Hell just so I can hear you say it in person. Is that a stupid reason to be willing to go to Hell? ...okay, don’t answer that. Yeah, it is. Maybe if you had facetime I wouldn’t be so desperate, though.

I’m gonna write so many letters to you. You better keep a notebook on hand or something from now on. Prepare yourself, Mark.

Also please take care of yourself. I don’t know what kind of work they have you doing, but you seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t know when he’s pushing himself too hard. I hope you’re getting breaks and sleeping well.

Yours always,

Donghyuck

After he signed off, Donghyuck drew his sun. It was almost tradition by then. Johnny said he would try to be back with Mark’s reply by tomorrow. Donghyuck protested, saying that was far too long a wait.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’ve got shit to do other than be a courier for your notes. I’ve got a life too,” Johnny grumbled.

Donghyuck silenced his complaints. He widened his eyes, though. He caught Johnny’s gaze and didn’t let him look away. After the shortest moment, only a beat or two, Johnny heaved a heavy sigh. He rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll bring his response back tonight.”  

Donghyuck smiled almost instantly, and he had to duck his head. When he looked up, though, he saw a bare corner of a grin crossing Johnny’s face. It was only for a split second, though, then Johnny turned on his heel and started walking away. Donghyuck blinked and, in between one stride and the next, Johnny was gone, vanished into the shadows.

Donghyuck exhaled a long breath.

It was okay, he told himself, as he looked over the library row. He surveyed his things scattered around. He knelt down to gather his things into his bag. It was fine, he repeated. Johnny would be coming back and, once he did, he would have news from Mark.

Donghyuck folded the napkin note carefully, creasing off-center so sketched little Mark’s face wouldn’t be warped. He slipped it into one of the pockets of his jacket, and kept his fingers enclosed over it on the long walk back to his dorm.

Donghyuck didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or to cry. All he knew was that his heart felt as if it was going to burst, as if he was swelling. He felt full to the brim with fondness, affection, and he had nowhere to give it.

Donghyuck almost asked Jeno if he could join him on his bed, cuddle as they hadn’t done together since the start of freshman year of highschool. He didn’t even know if Jeno would have said yes. He realized a moment after the thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t what he really wanted, anyways. He wasn’t starved for just anyone’s touch.

Donghyuck didn’t want to be in just anyone’s arms. He wanted to be with Mark, he wanted to be close enough to see the way Mark’s eyes crinkled out at the edges, the way his nose scrunched up. Mark’s letters were everything to Donghyuck. They were his one method of reaching Mark. But they reminded him what they used to have then, and what they couldn’t have anymore.

Donghyuck toed off his boots, slipped under his bedcovers still wearing his jeans and his jacket. It was noon and he was ready for a nap. He knew sleep would evade him, though. He didn’t even bother trying. Instead, he scrolled through his phone. He grew more and more disheartened as his searches for ‘ways to get to Hell’ turned up exactly nothing of use.

Thoughts of what Mark could have been working on, why he had written he was being shouted at, swirled around Donghyuck’s head. He wondered of Mark, as he always did. The difference was that, this time, Donghyuck knew he’d be able to ask Mark himself for answers, and put an end to his wondering.

By evening, as the sun dipped low outside, Jeno dragged Donghyuck from bed. He didn’t want to go to their Friday dinner with Renjun and Jaemin alone. It wasn’t so much out of fear that he’d become a third wheel.

Rather, Jeno explained, “We’re going to get to see how they act around each other! C’mon, we can’t miss this.”

Donghyuck had to agree. His mood was rising with the waning hours of the day, as night – and the delivery of Mark’s letter – neared. He tagged along with Jeno to meet up with Renjun and Jaemin for dinner at a nice off-campus restaurant. It was nicer, at least, relative to their usual fast-food or cafeteria fare. Donghyuck suspected Jaemin had chosen it as a bit of a celebration.

Donghyuck had to admit that things could have been much more awkward than they ended up being. Renjun and Jaemin could have been that kind of couple, the ones that let everyone else recede but their partner, the ones that giggle and kiss and leave their friends sitting there awkwardly. Donghyuck wouldn’t normally have been bitter about that kind of thing but, in his state, he was relieved that Renjun and Jaemin kept their couple-y interactions minimal.

Actually, they seemed to be hardly interacting at all. It didn’t seem as though they were upset with other, though. Jaemin was beaming as he explained some math thing to Jeno, who was nodding along in rapt attention. Renjun was smiling, small, as he arranged and rearranged the setting of his silverware in front of him. Renjun had a distinct, curious flush to his cheeks, visible despite the low lighting in the restaurant.

Donghyuck had to wonder if the scarf that was wrapped around Jaemin’s neck had anything to do with it.
While Jaemin and Jeno were engaged in talking about concepts far beyond Donghyuck’s understanding, Donghyuck caught Renjun’s eye. He glanced pointedly at Jaemin, then gestured at his own neck.

No sooner had he raised his hand to his neck then Renjun had jumped out of his seat, launched across the table, and captured his hand.

“Don’t – !” Renjun cried out, before freezing.

His panicked expression shifted in an instant to regret. Donghyuck bit down on his lip, to keep from laughing. The look on Renjun’s face was hilarious. His eyes were wide as saucers. That proved Donghyuck’s suspicion, he guessed. Renjun had everything to do with the scarf around Jaemin’s neck.

Jeno and Jaemin had gone quiet, Donghyuck realized, belatedly. He turned to face them, and saw that Renjun was turning that way too.

Jaemin looked confused, as he turned his gaze from from Renjun, half leaning over the table, to Donghyuck, who was drawn forward by Renjun’s hold on him. Jeno looked just as lost as Jaemin.

Renjun cleared his throat, significantly. He released Donghyuck’s hand, and sunk back down into his seat.

“Excuse us,” he offered in a small, dignified tone.

Jeno still looked concerned, but Jaemin appeared to melt at those two words alone. Donghyuck could see his shoulders relax and slump. His smile turned soft and simpering and he gazed solely at Renjun, whose cheeks had gone even more deeply flushed.

Donghyuck dropped his hand from his neck.

In just a few days, they had gone from hiding Jaemin’s hickeys from Renjun to Renjun hiding Jaemin’s hickeys from them. Donghyuck was already mentally composing the tale, how crazy it was, how quickly everything was coming together. Mark was missing so much.

Donghyuck had trailed behind Jeno all the way back to their dorm. He fell behind as he darted glances around the sidewalks, searching for a tall silhouette shrouded in black, all the while telling himself he wasn’t.

He frowned and scuffed his feet as Jeno shared his plans for the holidays. He was going on a ski trip with his parents and his sister. He was looking forward to it. He hadn’t been skiing before, and it kind of looked scary, but he liked the outfits people got to wear when they skied. It wasn’t an overall thrilling story, but Jeno seemed happy talking about it, so Donghyuck let him talk.

He probably hadn’t been paying attention well enough, though, because it took him walking straight into Jeno’s back to realize Jeno had stopped entirely. He had stopped speaking too, gone mute as he had frozen upon opening the door to their dorm room.

“What the hell, Jeno?” Donghyuck whined, rubbing at his nose. He’d knocked his face into the back of Jeno’s head.

“There’s a goth dude in our dorm,” Jeno hissed, alarmed. His surprise cut through Donghyuck’s annoyance.

“A goth dude?”

On alert, Donghyuck peeked around Jeno. His fear turned to excitement in a split second when he saw Johnny standing there, looking out of place in the middle of their dorm room.

Johnny was standing in front of Donghyuck’s dresser. It looked as though he was holding something small in his grasp, though Donghyuck couldn’t tell what it was. He gazed at them, wide-eyed, caught.

“Johnny!” Donghyuck called, excited. He darted around Jeno, as Johnny indiscreetly shoved whatever object he was holding back onto Donghyuck’s dresser.

“Donghyuck,” Johnny said, evenly, as though unfazed.

Donghyuck looked at the small item Johnny had placed on his dresser. His heart skipped a beat. His buoyant mood dropped. The pink nail polish. He hadn’t touched it once since he had placed it atop his dresser after he had finished painting Mark’s nails. Donghyuck pressed his lips together. He fought to suppress the memories the little bottle brought up, then he turned to Johnny.

“What were you doing with that?” he asked, his voice small.

Johnny glanced at it, sideways, “That color… Mark came back with – ”

“Wait, hold on. Pause,” Jeno’s voice came from the door to the dorm. Donghyuck had forgotten about him already, he realized. He fixed his gaze on Jeno, guilty.

Jeno looked at Donghyuck, his brows drawn together. He raised a finger to point at Johnny.

“You know this guy?” Jeno asked.

Donghyuck glanced at Johnny. Johnny said nothing. He only looked back at Donghyuck, with a vaguely amused expression, which wasn’t at all helpful.

Donghyuck glanced back to Jeno, “Yes. We’re... friends.”

Johnny snorted, the sound of it unmissable in the hushed room. Donghyuck resisted the urge to elbow him. He needed to get this smoothed over so Jeno wouldn’t be concerned and he could get Mark’s letter from Johnny, quick.

“We’re friendly,” he adjusted. Johnny let that one pass without laughing at it, at least.

“Why is he in our dorm?” Jeno asked. He raised his hand to his head, as though it was aching, “ How is he in our dorm? Hyuck, I saw you lock the dorm before we left. So I know we didn’t leave the dorm unlocked, and he clearly doesn’t have your key.”

Donghyuck shot a minute glare at Johnny. He shrugged back at Donghyuck. He didn’t seem to quite grasp the situation at hand. Donghyuck decided that he needed to have a talk with him about his magic usage while on Earth.

“Well,” Donghyuck turned back to Jeno, his mind reeling as spoke, as he spun a lie, “I must not have locked it well enough. It’s not like he teleported in here or something, after all.”

A beat.

Jeno looked uncertain but he nodded, slow.

“Yeah,” Jeno said, “You’re right. Uh… nice to meet you, Johnny.”

“Nice to meet you too, Jeno,” Johnny grinned, broad. He reached forward and grasped Jeno’s hand, “Wouldn’t that be cool, though, if I could just magically travel from place to place?”

Jeno nodded, his expression growing more and more discomfited. His eyes had fallen from Johnny’s eyes to something a little lower. Johnny’s smile, perhaps.

Donghyuck felt pained. He felt impatient. He needed to save Jeno from Johnny and, more importantly, he needed the letter. He sighed and reached for Johnny’s free arm.

“Stop being creepy,” he chastised, before dragging him away from Jeno, towards the dorm door.

“I’ll be back soon!” Donghyuck called.

Jeno was looking after them. As they were leaving, Donghyuck glanced back. He saw Jeno lift his hand up to his mouth. An odd gesture. He dismissed it as Jeno being Jeno, though. He led Johnny down the hall, to the communal study area that was left abandoned, as late as it was on a Friday night.

Mark’s next letter was written on paper, once more.

Donghyuck,

It started. His name in Mark’s handwriting never failed to make him feel as if there was something swooping within him.

I love you.

But please don’t storm Hell to hear me say it. Even I know that’s an awful idea. This place really isn’t meant for you. It’s cold and dark and everything’s a bit too harsh. It’s nothing like you.

You’re going to have to remind me what facetime is… is that the website? Or is it something else? Either way.

I love you.

That won’t change for however long I’m down here. If you’ll wait long enough, maybe you’ll get the chance to hear me say it in person. I’d love to see your face when I say it, and I mean that. I wonder if you’ll blush.

Not to sound weird, but you look really cute when you blush, Donghyuck. Did you know that you kind of used to blush whenever you teased me or played with my ears? You did.

I’m sorry for making you worried, though. I don’t think you need to be. My work’s not too bad, really!

Funny story – my boss was told he had to give me some kind of punishment for breaking the curse, or whatever. I think they expected him to give me a hundred years pushing a boulder up a hill or something, but he’s only making me work at one of our dive bars for a decade or two. I have to memorize how to make the strangest drinks, and the customers here kind of suck, but it’s not as bad as it could be! I don’t regret anything. I’d kiss you again in a heartbeat.

I’m ready for your letters. I’ll try and keep a notebook on me from now on. Sorry about writing on that napkin, by the way. That wasn’t really romantic, was it?

Stay happy, Donghyuck. Do you think it’s safe to wish you good luck on your finals now? They’re coming up, right?

Good luck, and love always,

Mark

Donghyuck was fairly sure he actually was blushing by the time he’d finished the letter. A telling warm sensation had bloomed across his cheeks. It hit him then. Mark wasn’t the only one in love.

The realization that he loved Mark back didn’t hit him with the force of a train, it didn’t crash upon him like a tsunami. It was slow, subtle.

It was the curl of warmth he felt upon seeing he’d gotten a new letter from Mark. It was the comfort he found in his penmanship, in the memory of his smile. Loving Mark was immutable, and it wasn’t anything new. He just had a name to put to it, the feeling that had been there for longer than he could say. Loving Mark was natural, it was as easy as breathing.

Donghyuck exhaled. He smiled, soft.

“Johnny,” he said, as he kept his gaze on Mark’s letter, “I think I love Mark.”

“...you think?”

Donghyuck scowled up at Johnny. He wouldn’t let Johnny ruin his realization that he loved Mark, or the sense it made, or how perfect the feeling felt.

“You’re mean,” he said, simply.

Johnny’s eye twitched.

“I’m a demon.”

“Some demons are nice,” Donghyuck huffed. He lifted up Mark’s letter, “Do you guys really have bars in Hell, or is that just some story he made up to keep me from worrying?”

Donghyuck wouldn’t put that past Mark. Hey, he thought. They loved each other. That was pretty lucky, he thought, to love someone, and be loved by them in turn.

Johnny cocked his head.

“It’s Hell. Yeah, we have bars.”

He said it like it was obvious, like Donghyuck was naive for not knowing. Donghyuck bristled at that. Nothing about this was obvious, nothing. Every step closer to Mark was another step deeper into uncharted territory.

Johnny continued, “Mark’s working at the shittiest one, in the shittiest corner of Hell. I caught him mid-shift, with your last letter.”

Donghyuck wasn’t sure about that. Even if Hell wasn’t all fire and brimstone, he wasn’t sure if it made sense for it to have things like dark corners and bars. Still, he wasn’t about to continue his line of questioning, not with how Johnny was looking at him. So he nodded, and clamped his mouth shut. He took another couple glances over Mark’s letter, smiling once more as he read over the ‘I love you’s, as he took in Mark’s tangent on his blush.

Donghyuck wrote a reply, making sure to thank Mark for wishing him luck on his finals, questioning him further on the bar, asking if it was as shitty as Johnny said. He concluded his letter a little differently, this time.

What if I told you I loved you back? Would that change your mind? Maybe Hell’s not such a bad place for me. After all, you’re there.

Yours even though we’re apart,

Donghyuck

He drew a heart to accompany the sun.

Before Johnny left, Donghyuck made him wait. He ran back to his dorm and fetched the bottle of nail polish off his dresser. He pressed it into Johnny’s hand. At Johnny’s questioning gaze, Donghyuck explained himself as best he could, even though his throat threatened to close up on him before he could get the words out.

“Take it back for him?” he asked, then, upon impulse, “Can you let him know that he doesn’t have to let Hell make him rough again? Just… remind him that even though everything down there’s harsh, he doesn’t have to be.”

Johnny looked at the little bottle of polish. It looked even smaller than usual, in his grasp. His expression was muted, difficult to read, nothing like his exaggerated exasperation or his broad grin.

He looked up at Donghyuck. His brows were drawn together in thought.

“He shouldn’t let Hell make him harsh?” he asked, seeking confirmation.

Donghyuck didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded.

After Johnny left, Donghyuck read over Mark’s letter again and again. Eventually, he forced himself to fold it up and tuck it away. He needed to be productive. He needed to make breaking the curse worth it, and get good grades on his finals. He needed to find a way to reunite he and Mark.

He’d find a way to do it all, somehow. He’d figure it out, despite the seemingly impossible distance between them.

Jeno and Donghyuck’s dorm was silent, as they both readied for bed that night. There wasn’t going to be any parties in the cards for their friends that weekend, they’d all decided, collectively, unspoken. Early nights, for all of them.

“I don’t know about him,” Jeno said, suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What?” Donghyuck looked at Jeno, confused. Jeno’s face was screwed up, as if he’d smelled something awful.

“I know you’re probably trying to get over Mark, and I don’t think that’s a bad idea, but I don’t think he’s the best choice for that, Hyuck.”

He… Donghyuck wracked his mind. After a moment, he figured out who Jeno was probably referring to.

“Johnny?” he spluttered. At Jeno’s answering solemn nod, Donghyuck grew .

“You think Johnny’s a rebound?” Donghyuck clarified, his voice rising an octave.

Dating Mark, that was fine. Perfect, even. A dream come true. Dating Johnny, dating a terrifying three thousand year old with fangs, who towered over him and had a penchant for saying disdainful things about humans… Donghyuck hardly suppressed a shiver.

“You’re not really subtle, Hyuck,” Jeno said. It sounded as though his observation pained him, “He’s a lot like Mark. He’s got the whole goth thing like Mark, not to mention he also has – .”

“Jeno, Oh my God. No. Johnny’s – ew. And Mark and I are actually…” Donghyuck trailed off, unsure what to call whatever was going on between he and Mark. What were written love confessions, promises to wait for an eternity, all hand delivered from Hell by a demon? “...We’re still talking.”

Jeno blinked.

“I thought you two broke up?”

Donghyuck’s felt a twinge in his chest. That ache was still fresh.

“I thought we did too,” he admitted, not quite managing to pull off the casual tone as he was going for. Donghyuck cast his gaze away from Jeno, “I don’t know. I think we’re trying something... long distance.”

Jeno hissed in commiseration.

“I guess it’s good that you’re trying it out, but that’s gotta be hard.”

Donghyuck wondered how much he could let Jeno know and still keep the secret. There was no Earthly analogy for being stuck in two different worlds, with possibly more than a decade separating his and Mark’s reunion.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck admitted.

He was glad for the fact that he’d already looked away from Jeno. He was afraid of what his face might have been doing, then. His heart was aching. He took no comfort in the feeling, as familiar as it was to him.

“I think it’ll be worth it, though,” Donghyuck said. He allowed himself a smile, as he recalled Mark’s letter, “We love each other.”

“Oh,” Jeno said, quiet, from the other side of the room.

Donghyuck forced himself to raise to Jeno, his curiosity outweighing the potential embarrassment of Jeno reading the heartache in his features. Jeno was sitting on his hands, on his bed. He had a small smile on his face too.

“That makes sense,” he said, simply, and for some reason, Donghyuck felt as though a weight had been lifted off his chest.

He felt relieved, at just those words from Jeno. He knew his situation was entirely insane. It would be crazy to even attempt to share it in its entirety with anyone. But he had told Jeno the truth – that he and Mark loved each other, and they were trying with each other, that it was hard.

Jeno’s words, minimal as they may have been, felt like confirmation that what Donghyuck was trying wasn’t exactly crazy. Or, if it was, then at least he was justified. They made sense, their love made sense. It wasn’t futile, to keep fighting for it.

Jeno’s smile grew wide, turning his eyes to crescents.

“How’d you guys figure out that you love each other so quick? It took Renjun and Jaemin literal years.”

Donghyuck swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t thought about it like that. He wondered if he ought to be grateful for it, that Mark breaking his curse and getting stuck in Hell had hastened things for them. He wondered if that was a silver lining he hadn’t thought of, or if knowing each other’s true feelings only made their situation worse.

☾

The next day, Johnny made sure to knock and enter Donghyuck’s dorm through the door. Donghyuck counted that as a victory, given that it had taken minutes of Donghyuck berating him and informing him he ought to act like a normal human being when on Earth.

Donghyuck sunk to the ground by his bed before opening Mark’s newest letter. He didn’t know why, but he always felt better when he read them while seated on the ground.

Donghyuck,

That last question was a hypothetical, right? Or do you actually feel that way about me? It’s fine if you don’t! I don’t mind either way, as long as you aren’t uncomfortable that I love you. To answer your hypothetical, I don’t know if it would change my mind.

Donghyuck, I just want you to be happy. If I thought you could be happy setting foot in Hell, then I’d be all for it. But it was sunny everyday I was up there, with you. It was bright, and shining.

The people up above are kind. They smile at each other as they pass each other in the streets. Strangers smiled at me, up there, even though they didn’t know me from anyone. It doesn’t seem anything like your home, down here. I just want you to know that, before you go getting any ideas about storming the place.

Thank you for sending the nail polish back. I don’t know if I’ll have as much fun doing it by myself but that’s okay! Everytime I see my pink nails I think of you, and that’s not bad at all. I was worried because it was chipping off and I wasn’t sure how long it’d stay on. Now I don’t have to worry anymore. Thanks for that, Donghyuck.

Wait, sorry. Was that a hypothetical question? What do you mean if you told me you loved me? Could you explain little bit more about that because I think I might be jumping to conclusions and I’m not sure if I’m understanding you correctly. If you could let me know, that’d be really nice. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Love always,

Mark

PS: I’m not sure if you did this on purpose, but you write your Ls differently when you write words with ‘love’ in them. It’s kinda cute.

Donghyuck sighed. He made Johnny look away, demanding he turn to look out the window. Once his gaze was turned, Donghyuck closed his eyes and hugged the letter to his chest. It was stupid, he thought, though he didn’t stop. He hugged the letter, and imagined Mark’s words lifting the ache within him as they made contact with his heart.

He assumed the sensation would lessen, with time. He assumed Mark’s letters would help. And yet, the more he learned of Mark, the more he discovered about him, the deeper he fell. Mark wasn’t just cute. He was sentimental, almost to the point of romantic. He was a rambler. He spoke at length about the smallest things. Donghyuck couldn’t help but relate. He couldn’t help but drink in every word, no matter how tangential, either.

Mark could be stubborn too, though Donghyuck knew that already. He was stubborn to the point of frustration, but Donghyuck was determined to be more stubborn than him. He’d find a way to Hell, and he’d convince Mark that he’d be fine going there, along the way.

Mark was also bit slow on the uptake, Donghyuck thought, and he grinned.

He grinned all the way through composing his reply.

Dear Mark,

I love you.

Yeah, love love, with a curly L and everything. I love you so much that I don’t mind saying all this embarrassing stuff, because I know you’ll probably eat it up. I want you to be happy too, dork. I want to dance with you until our feet are sore, then stay up late talking with you.

Maybe you could tell me stories about Canada, or about working in a bar in Hell. I’d love to hear more about that, because it sounds fucking crazy. Maybe you are a little cool, after all. Are we still fake dating, by the way? Can I tell people I’m dating a demon who works in a bar in Hell? Or, at least, that I’m dating a cute emo boy who works in a bar in a bad part of Toronto?

I wouldn’t mind going to a place that’s a bit less bright if it meant we could have the chance to do things like dancing together, or staying up late talking. We might also get to finally have a proper kiss without you disappearing a few seconds into it. Wouldn’t that be nice?

If love is magic, Mark, then I know we’re going to find our way to each other again. If my time with you has taught me anything, it’s that magic is powerful. Even if the universe could say no to me, it can’t say no to us. We love each other, after all.

Yours always,

Donghyuck

He only stopped grinning after Johnny’s back faded into the shadows of the hallway outside of their dorm room. The corners of his mouth dipped, as the warm glow of his imagined fantasies faded, as he remembered that the thoughts of staying up late hearing Mark talk in low tones were just that – thoughts.

Finding happiness was easier now than it had been in the first few days after Mark had vanished, Donghyuck thought. Finding lasting happiness was another story entirely.

It wasn’t as though Donghyuck was pining endlessly, though. It wasn’t as though he was incapable of proceeding as normal. He made an effort. He even tagged along with Renjun to an art supply store downtown, while Jeno and Jaemin studied for their calculus exam. He even laughed, as Renjun offered a pained explanation of Jaemin’s newest collection of hickeys.

“You guys thought you were smooth, using Jeno’s scarf,” Renjun muttered, dark.

He paused to throw a pack of paint tubes in the cart Donghyuck was pushing along, then launched right back into it.

“I’m not blind, okay? I knew that frat guy had gone to town on him… but I don’t know what I was thinking, doing that to Jaemin. The other bruises had already faded. I think I went momentarily insane.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as the possessive type,” Donghyuck mused.

He had had already found the pencils he had come to the store for at the very beginning of the trip. He was just helping Renjun out, by that point. As Renjun searched high and low for his supplies for his final project, Donghyuck pushed the cart, and let his eye wander.

There was pink everywhere. Bright splashes of it in all tones in the paint aisle, the softest hues in the yarns and fabrics aisles, small pinpricks of it among the faux flowers that crowded all the endcaps.

Donghyuck reached out for one of the flowers, as they passed yet another display bursting with them.

Renjun crossed his arms over his chest, but he didn’t hurry Donghyuck along. He paused and waited for Donghyuck, as Donghyuck trailed his finger up over the hard plastic of the faux flower’s stem, then traced the soft fabric that made up its petals.

“I’m not possessive. That’s gross, for the record. Jaemin’s his own human being, I shouldn’t be marking him like he belongs to me or something.”

Donghyuck laughed, more automatic than anything. He dropped his hand from the flower’s petals, at long last. They had felt soft as velvet, to the touch.  

“Somehow I doubt either of you would mind it if Jaemin did belong to you,” Donghyuck said, distracted.

Donghyuck adjusted the cart and started to push it along. He was ready to get moving.

Renjun clicked his tongue behind Donghyuck’s back, but he made no argument of protest. Donghyuck kept pushing the cart, until he’d made it halfway down the aisle and realized that Renjun seemed to have stopped following him. He turned around to see Renjun walking his way. In his hands, he was carrying the pink flower that had drawn Donghyuck’s eye.

Renjun had his lips pursed. He had his gaze pointed down, and seemed to be reading a little tag that was strung from the flower’s plastic stem. Donghyuck watched, confused, as Renjun caught up to him.

“Camellia,” Renjun said, furthering Donghyuck’s confusion.

“What?” he asked.

Renjun looked up from the flower’s tag. He rolled his eyes.

“The name of the flower you were fondling,” he said. Donghyuck felt a wave of heat rise to his cheeks.

“I wasn’t –.”

“You were,” Renjun levied an unamused look at Donghyuck, cutting Donghyuck’s second attempt at saving his dignity short.

“Here,” he said, before tossing the flower into the cart.

Donghyuck tracked it as it arced through the air and landed atop Renjun’s paints and palettes. He saw one of its leaves bend underneath it, and felt a twinge. He went to set it right. It didn’t work. No matter how he adjusted the flower, some part of it ended up being bent or folded.

In the end, he carried the pink camellia through the store in his hand, pushing the cart with the other He told himself he’d put it back before they went through the check out.

He didn’t, though.

Donghyuck had the half formed thought that Mark might appreciate it, though he wasn’t sure if Mark even liked flowers. He would include it with his next letter, he decided, long after he had already paid for it.

☾

“No matter how cool he tries to act, he was freaking out when he read what you wrote in your last letter,” Johnny said, only moments after he had appeared in front of Donghyuck in the fifth floor library row.

“Good morning, by the way,” Johnny added, with a flash of his fanged grin.

He handed Mark’s letter over to Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s heart was picking up pace already, upon the sight the crisp white paper covered in words, and at hearing Johnny’s secondhand account.

“He was freaking out?” Donghyuck repeated, looking up from the letter, too nervous to lay eyes on it for too long. He hadn’t been nervous when he had written the word love over and over again, but upon hearing that Mark had freaked out, he began to grow worried. Donghyuck wondered if he might have come on too strong.

“He giggled,” Johnny said. He looked as though distaste and utter joy were warring within him, going by the twist to his smile.

“Oh,” Donghyuck replied. His mind helpfully supplied an image of Mark holding his letter up to some dim barlight, reading it, then giggling, light and tiny. Donghyuck smiled, “Oh wow.”

All he had done was tell Mark he loved him, and he had gotten that kind of reaction from him.

“In my opinion, your confession wasn’t worth a full giggle,” Johnny said, off-hand, “Maybe a chuckle. A snort.”

Donghyuck glared up at him.

“You’re so mean,” he pronounced. But he felt doubt creep in all the same, even if he was mostly sure Johnny was teasing him. His fingers closed tighter on Mark’s new letter. He still hadn’t gathered the courage to look at it.

Johnny raised his hands in surrender, “I’m just saying he’s a little too far gone for you, Lee Donghyuck. You better not break his heart.”

Donghyuck felt as though a grip had seized upon his heart, and had squeezed. It took him a moment to find his voice so that he could answer.

“I’m trying not to.”

Johnny hummed at him, unreadable. Donghyuck pressed his lips together, and forced his eyes down to Mark’s letter.

Donghyuck,

You want to hear a story about Canada?

When I was really little, about five or six years old, the other boys in my grade started to take an interest in the girls. It wasn’t anything big. They would just chase them around the schoolyard during recess every day, instead of hiding away and saying they all had cooties.

My best friend at the time would chase after this one girl – Rose, I think. He’d call Rose annoying and a crybaby to her face, then he would turn around and tell me she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, like a girl from the pictures. My best friend was kind of a dick, now that I think about it.

Anyways, I didn’t really care about the girls, not like the other boys, not like my best friend. I kept waiting and waiting to find that girl that would my heart race before I even started to chase her. I even asked my mom. She laughed and told me that I was only a kid, that I had my whole life ahead of me to find a girl like that. She said that I had forever. I remember that, exactly, as clear as though it had happened yesterday. Forever, she’d said.

The funny thing was – by the time we were fifteen and my best friend finally got over himself and asked Rose out to the dancehall, I knew I would be dead in four years' time. I knew I was going to die young. I had already given up. Four years seems like a long time, but I was fifteen, Donghyuck, and I hadn’t found anyone who could make my heart race by then.

I thought my mom was wrong. I think I thought it was just another case of growing up and finding out how your parents can't always be right about everything.

Then I was given another chance. I was supposed to die at nineteen, but I didn’t. I lost my soul, but I kept on living.

My mom was right. It wasn’t forever, in the end. It took almost a century, but I found you. My heart’s racing now and I haven’t even started to chase after you.

You’re right. The universe can’t say no to us. I’ll start chasing you now. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a living human coming to Hell, but I’ll ask around. Some of these guys have been here for ages. They might know more than me.

Until we find something, let’s keep writing to each other, Donghyuck. And, if anyone asks, you’re dating a bartender from Vancouver.

Love always,

Mark

Everytime Donghyuck thought he’d grown used to the ache, that he’d gotten comfortable with the empty feeling from missing Mark, it grew more sharp. Donghyuck finished reading Mark’s letter through a blurry vision, as hard as he tried to blink to clear his eyes. He had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling.

It was a lot, Mark’s letter. They all were. This one was just another in a long string of heartaches and triumphs, all from just a few words written on a page.

As much as Donghyuck felt he knew Mark, there was still so much about him he didn’t know. He hadn’t known the Canada thing was real, for Mark. He hadn’t known Mark had once been a little boy on a schoolyard, like him.

Donghyuck sniffed.

“Mark… he used to be human?” he asked.

He looked up, to find Johnny seated across from him, in the exact spot where Mark used to sit. His legs were splayed out, his wrists resting atop his knees. Donghyuck felt a twinge.

Johnny looked thoughtful as he gazed at Donghyuck. He nodded.

“What happened? How did he–?” Donghyuck cut himself off.

He cast his gaze down to read over the letter once more. How had he known he’d die at nineteen, Donghyuck wondered.

“I think you should ask him,” Johnny said, after a moment, “It's not my story to tell.”

So Donghyuck did ask him. He also asked for more stories, for more glimpses of Mark’s life as a human. He shared some tales of his own, from his childhood.

He drew out the camellia – which he had kept in his backpack, safe atop his textbooks, just in case Johnny showed up when he wasn’t at his dorm. Donghyuck had looked up the meaning of the flower because, according to Renjun, certain flowers meant certain things. He didn’t tell Mark what he’d found about its meaning, though. He only mentioned that it was pink, and that its petals were soft, that it wouldn’t ever die, and that it had made Donghyuck think of him.

He wrapped his letter around the stem of the camellia. He ducked his head, as Johnny’s expression grew solemn, almost pained. Johnny held the flower in a gentle grasp, instead of tucking it inside his jacket pocket, as he’d done with every other letter.

Donghyuck had almost liked it better when Johnny was making fun of him. He didn’t want his pity. He didn’t need his pity. Mark and he were on the same page. They were both going to figure this out, together. That’s what Mark had said, and Donghyuck believed him.

Donghyuck didn’t know how but that night, the night before his first final, he went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately after closing his eyes. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep fully for a week. For days, he’d tossed, and turned, in search of the least uncomfortable position. He hadn’t been able to quiet his thoughts, so loud, so boisterous it felt as if he needed to spill them out or he’d go crazy.

His thoughts were quieter, that Sunday night. It was Mark’s story, he thought. It was sharing a story, in turn. It was the hope, the possibility that came with Mark’s promise to help Donghyuck figure out how to reunite them.

Donghyuck hadn’t wanted to admit to himself but, up until then, Donghyuck had been starting to lose hope. It seemed so impossible, but Mark was right, and Donghyuck was starting to believe his own claims. Mark was chasing after him, and the universe couldn’t say no to them.

Donghyuck fell asleep. He woke up cold, but well rested, for the first time in a long time. He prodded at the circles under his eyes, as he peered at his reflection in the dorm bathroom’s mirror. He smiled at himself. At least every other student at his final would look just as exhausted as him, he thought.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck was fairly sure he only survived finals through a mix of sheer willpower and the hope of living to see Mark’s letter the next day. The flurry of exams and studying, and more exams, and more studying left only the empty moments for heartache, only those spare moments between his head hitting the pillow and his mind quieting, or waiting for the exams to be handed out, or walking from his dorm to the library and back again. On one hand, he was grateful for the breakneck pace, but on the other, he wished he had more time, more languid moments.

After his first exam, Donghyuck was napping in the library once more, catching a quick half hour of sleep before starting in on studying for his second exam.

Then Johnny appeared with Mark’s next letter, and Donghyuck awoke instantly. He devoured it. Mark’s letters gave him promise, gave him hope.

Donghyuck,

Does it shock you that I haven’t always been a demon? The story of how I became one is actually kinda embarrassing. I don’t even know where to start.

I guess I should start with the story I heard in the schoolyard? Or maybe I ought to go back even further. I was born in 1919, Donghyuck. I don’t know if I ever told you the exact year, but yeah. I’ll be a hundred years old next year. That’s kinda crazy to think about. Is that weird for you?

Sorry. I got a little sidetracked. Anyways. I was all of eight years old when the Depression hit Vancouver. I was nine when my dad lost his job. I was almost ten when I realized that the hunger pangs weren’t going to be going away anytime soon, that my mom wouldn’t be smiling like she used to any time soon.

Around that time I started to hear stories in the schoolyard. They were kinda like ghost stories. The kids whispered them like they were scared the teacher would find out what we were talking about.

They talked about devils. One boy heard about a singer down in America, way down South, a guy who’d gone to a crossroads and sold his soul so he could become famous. I remember my best friend told me what all the other kids were saying. I remember he asked, “Mark, would you ever do something like that? You could be famous.”

I told him no. I didn’t want fame. I didn’t want to be big music star. All I wanted was for my mom to stop crying and my dad to stop hiding away from us like he’d done something wrong, like he had anything to be disappointed about, not having a job anymore.

I can’t tell you how I managed to get all the details right. Maybe I lucked out. Maybe it was unlucky. But I went to a crossroads, Donghyuck, just the one at the corner by my family’s one bedroom home. I did it. I summoned a demon.

I remember thinking he was really handsome, that he looked like he could be a star in the movies too. I asked what I could get if I sold my soul. The demon laughed and said I could ask for anything, and it would be mine.

I remember thinking of my mom, of my dad, and my big brother. I asked for food. The demon laughed, again. He shook my hand and sealed the deal. He told me he’d be back for my soul in ten years, then handed me the food I’d traded it for.

A sandwich.

Isn’t that stupid?

I sold my soul for one lousy sandwich.

It wasn’t even that big a sandwich. I remember that my dad went hungry that night, while my mom and brother and I split a soul’s worth of sandwich. A day later, the pangs were back. We were hungry all over again.

I kinda got angry with the demon over the ten years I had to think about the deal. Kinda got really angry with him. But I couldn’t do anything about it.

I was nineteen, and the demon showed up, as he said he would. This time, he wasn’t alone. He had another demon with him, a guy I’d later find out was the boss of everyone down here. The boss apologized for the demon’s actions. He apologized that my soul was already signed away. He said that the deal couldn’t be undone. He said he could make me a new deal though. I’d still lose my soul, but they could make me live forever instead, as a demon.

I don’t know why, but I took that deal, Donghyuck.

The boss took my soul and made me a demon. It’s been almost eighty years now. Yuta (that’s the name of the crossroads demon I summoned as a kid)... well, he’s still a jerk. I think he always will be, but he’s mellowed out a little. I think the boss gave him a talking to, or something. Yuta and I are friends now! Sorta hahaha.

I think I’ll actually ask Yuta for help with trying to figure out a way for you to get into Hell. He’s tricky, right? He might know some tricks into here.

Love always,

Mark

Donghyuck had to read Mark’s letter twice over and he was still left feeling adrift.

“What?”

“What what?” Johnny’s voice was bored.

Donghyuck’s eyes flicked up to look at him. He was paused in the midst of twirling one of Donghyuck’s pencils around his finger, his eyes distant.

“This can’t be right,” Donghyuck said. Mark’s story made his heart clench. It made him burn, heated, smoldering.

“Mark sold his soul for a sandwich?” Donghyuck asked.

Johnny winced.

“Yeah. It’s kinda unfortunate, but it’s true. He did… do that.”

Donghyuck felt the smoldering feeling growing hotter in the pit of his stomach, like he was filled with a bed of coals.

“Who the fuck allowed that?”

Johnny’s eyes widened. He started to lower the pencil, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Donghyuck hissed, “Why did any of you allow that demon to trick a kid like that? A starving kid?”

Donghyuck couldn’t even imagine how hard it must have been for Mark, for his family. He had to think that Mark wasn’t even telling him the worst of it, that he was softening some of the painful bits, lightening the story, because it was what he did. That was what he did for Donghyuck. He downplayed, he tried to make his letters softer.

Donghyuck couldn’t even imagine the ten years’ time after Mark had sold his soul for just a portion of a meal, that decade in which resentment and anger could have mounted.

Donghyuck huffed. He placed Mark’s letter in his lap out of fear of wrinkling the paper. He rested his hand on his knee, curling his fingers in tight.

“Yuta – that’s that dickhead’s name?” Donghyuck forced out the words. Johnny’s eyes fell to Donghyuck’s fist.

“Do I even want to ask what’s going through your head?”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Donghyuck spat, “I’m just pissed. He asked for food and all that asshole gave him was a sandwich.”

“Maybe Mark should have been more specific and he would’ve gotten a better deal,” Johnny said, quiet.

Donghyuck clenched his fist tighter, tight enough that he could feel his nails digging into his palm.

“He was nine.”

“Please tell me you’re not thinking of trying to fight a demon,” Johnny said. Though his tone was grave, Donghyuck could detect underlying amusement in it.

Donghyuck felt heat rise to his cheeks, flood his face, matching the smoldering in his stomach. Johnny was laughing at him. Of course, he had a right to be. Donghyuck slowly uncurled his fingers. He laid his palm flat against his knee.

Johnny noticed. His mouth quirked up into a half-smile.

“You’re not wrong. It was a dick move from Yuta. We all got pissed at him too. Tae–,” Johnny cut himself off. His eyes shifted from Donghyuck. When he continued speaking, his voice was harder to read, “Our boss wasn’t too happy with him.”

Donghyuck wondered at that odd moment, the slight stutter of Johnny’s. He filed it away, then pushed it aside. Still incensed, Donghyuck leaned forward,

“So he decided that making Mark a demon was the only way to make it right?”

“Would you have preferred it if our boss took his life instead of just his soul?” Johnny’s voice was perilously quiet.

Donghyuck froze. He swallowed. Johnny’s warning tone was unnecessary. The mere thought of Mark dying eighty years prior doused the fire in him immediately. He went cold at the thought. He slumped back.

Donghyuck shook his head. He supposed he had a lot to thank the demons’ boss for, for letting Mark have a second chance, even as a demon.

Johnny’s gaze softened.

“Now you get why we can be a little protective over him,” Johnny’s voice had returned to normal, “Mark’s always had trouble telling a good deal from a bad one.”
If any traces of the smoldering, indignant heat had remained, Johnny’s last words would have vanquished them.

“Yeah, I get it,” Donghyuck’s tongue felt thick. Words felt difficult. He felt prickly, self conscious. He wondered what he was in the demons’ eyes. Whether they thought of him as a good or bad deal.

He tried to push his self doubt aside as he wrote his reply Mark’s letter.

Dear Mark,

Fuck sandwiches. I’ll make sure you never have to lay eyes on a sandwich again once we’re together. It’s only noodles and soup for us, from here. Fuck that demon too. Johnny’s telling me I shouldn’t try to fight Yuta, but are you sure you aren’t still a little mad at him, even a little? Maybe I’ll give him a bit of a talking to like your boss did.

If Yuta has any tips about sneaking into Hell, though, I might be a little less pissed at him. There might be tricky ways to get in? Sounds like something I could pull off...

When sleep evaded Donghyuck, when his fingers and toes felt far too cold and his bed felt far too empty, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and let himself remember. He recalled when Mark had dragged him to the cafeteria and forced Donghyuck to eat that time he’d skipped a meal or two. He thought of Mark then, of how important that had seemed to him.

Donghyuck pressed his arms tighter around his core, to no avail. It wasn’t his stomach that ached from emptiness. The empty feeling went beyond, that hunger in him couldn’t be sated by food alone.

Donghyuck breathed in, deep.

If Yuta managed to help he and Mark in the tiniest bit, Donghyuck would try and forgive him as Mark seemed to have done. Until then, though, Donghyuck fell asleep envisioning walking right up to the demon and giving him a piece of his mind.

☾

Johnny came with Mark’s letter only fifteen minutes after Donghyuck had returned to his dorm from his second final. He had to take his time reading it, had to force himself to go slow. Mark’s letters weren’t a test, they weren’t something to dissect and analyze. The comforting, familiar style of his writing brought a sense of calm to Donghyuck instead, calming his post-test anxiety.

Donghyuck,

I love you. Thank you for not just laughing at how stupid I used to be. Well, how much more stupid I used to be. But it’s okay. It’s been awhile. You don’t need to fight either sandwiches or Yuta for my sake, I promise.

I asked him about ways into Hell, by the way. He kinda laughed at me for asking. I don’t think I was as subtle as I could’ve been. All the other guys know why I’m down here, after all. But he answered me anyways! Yuta told me that humans have come to Hell – living humans. It’s rare, but it’s happened before.

According to him, there was an old Greek dude named Orpheus who did it. He was some hero guy who came down to visit a lady he liked. It’s kinda like us? He had to ask all the gods for help, though. I’m not sure that’s really possible.

There was another old guy named Dante. He found a Hellmouth – that’s what they call a hole in the ground that connects to Hell. He just walked into Hell through one of them. That sounds easier. But the thing is – Dante was from Italy, so you might have to go to Italy? That doesn’t sound easy, actually. Scratch that...

“Why is Mark talking about Greek mythology like it’s real?” Donghyuck asked, looking up from Mark’s letter.

Johnny just leveled Donghyuck with a blank stare. Donghyuck stared back, waiting for an answer. He realized one wasn’t coming. He raised his eyebrows, as he came to the conclusion to his question all on his own.

“Oh,” he said, weak, “Okay. Why not.”

He looked back down at Mark’s letter and sighed. At least they knew it was possible, now. He really needed to brush up on his classical literature, he thought. Then, his next thought, exactly: Holy shit. I’m actually going to Hell.

“Holy shit,” he said, aloud, dropping Mark’s letter to his lap, “I’m actually going to Hell.”

Johnny clicked his tongue, but said nothing. Donghyuck glanced up at him, made a face, then looked back down to Mark’s letter. Johnny’s negativity was getting old.

– That doesn’t sound easy, actually. Scratch that. If you happen to be in Italy within the next decade or so, though, maybe you could check it out?

I’ll ask a few of the other guys after my next shift.

Also, I checked everywhere and I don’t think we serve everclear here. Or that awful vodka that party we went to had, either. I know you’re gonna be devastated to hear that. I’ll try and find something equally shitty so you feel right at home hahaha.

Shit, I hope Yuta wasn’t lying to me. I hope anything I told you in this letter was helpful. I’m sorry you have to work so hard on figuring this out while you’re already in the middle of your exams. I don’t know if I can do anything to make this easier on you, but if I can, let me know, okay?

I gotta go now. Johnny keeps telling me to get a move on or I’ll be late for work. Thing is, I know he knows that I don’t need to be there for half an hour. Even the bar’s customers don’t show up on time.

Love always,

Mark

P.S. When Yuta was telling me about the Orpheus dude I kept picturing you as a Greek hero. They were supposed to shine like gods too, right?

Donghyuck didn’t even bother trying to hide his smile as he finished Mark’s letter. From an angel to a god. Donghyuck worried Mark would soon run out of celestial things to compare him to.

“Mark doesn’t have a really good understanding of how most Greek heroes’ stories go, does he?” Donghyuck asked.

“He had to drop out of school when he was in the fourth grade, so… no.”

Donghyuck winced. He glanced up at Johnny, expecting to see disapproval for not knowing that before, or judgement, for judging Mark so quickly. All he saw was on Johnny’s face was a thoughtful expression.

“‘S Okay,” Donghyuck started, unsure of who exactly he was directing his assurances to, “I’m no Greek hero, anyways. Our story’s gonna have a happy ending.”

He had to believe it. He had to believe in Mark, and in himself. The universe couldn’t say no to them. They loved each other, after all.

☾

In between studying and exam-taking, in between writing letters and thinking about Greek myths and old Renaissance poets, Donghyuck suddenly found it hard to find time to spend with his friends. He still tried to squeeze in moments, even if they were short.

Donghyuck was sitting on the floor in Renjun’s dorm, helping him organize his portfolio. He was sorting through all of Renjun’s artworks when the door opened and Jaemin walked in with two steaming cups of coffee. The tip of his nose was bright red from the cold outside.

“Hey,” Jaemin greeted brightly, undoubtedly directed towards Renjun.

He carefully picked his way over Renjun’s works of art, before squatting beside him and laying a light kiss on his cheek. He set one of the cups of coffee on an unoccupied area of the floor, by Renjun’s hand.

“It’s supposed to taste like candy canes,” Jaemin said, “I know you don’t like black coffee, but I wasn’t sure what flavor to get you, so I went seasonal with it.”

“Thanks,” Renjun said, without any bite to it at all, just pure fondness.

He offered Jaemin a brief, tired smile, before turning his gaze to the coffee. He picked it up. As he tilted it towards his lips, Donghyuck was able to catch a waft of peppermint. His mouth watered.

He looked at Jaemin with wide, pleading eyes.

“Is that other cup for me?” he asked, hopeful.

Jaemin snorted, “No. I’m not getting you free coffee. We’re not dating.”

“We’re not dating, either,” Renjun reminded him, though anyone could tell that he had the beginnings of a satisfied grin crossing his lips, curling them up.

“Not yet, anyways,” Jaemin pointed out. His grin seemed to grow even wider, as he gazed down at Renjun like he was the only one in the room.

“Oh,” Renjun responded, simply, shocked. He set his cup of coffee down in a hurry. He then hiccuped, once, and raised his hand to his lips.

Jaemin chuckled at him. Donghyuck wanted to vacate the dorm room, immediately. He felt he’d long overstayed his welcome. Donghyuck wasn’t even looking up any longer. He knew what he’d see, if he did. Jaemin would be staring unsubtly at Renjun and Renjun would be pretending not to notice, and pretending not to be enjoying every second of Jaemin’s attention.

Donghyuck was almost glad to finally say goodbye. He excused himself after another almost unbearable half hour or so, and went to go do some last-minute studying before his chem final.

The covert glances and secret smiles Renjun and Jaemin kept sending each other, the looks when they thought the other was looking away… Donghyuck didn’t need to be reminded of that.

What he did need was a reminder on chemical reactions, he thought. He focused on that, instead, though the ache within him kept drawing his attention away from his notes and formula sheets.

Immediately following his third exam, Donghyuck diverged from the other students all walking back to their dorms in a daze, probably hoping to catch a half-hour nap. Instead, he directed his feet to the library. He plugged in his headphones, pulled up his least angsty Mark playlist – the one with plucky love songs and light acoustic strumming – and wrapped Mark’s jacket tight around him.

“Hi,” Donghyuck greeted the student working the library’s front desk, “Can you tell me where to find the books on Greek mythology and Dante?”

The student, who’d already begun typing the moment Donghyuck started asking his question, stopped typing. He surveyed Donghyuck over the rims of his glasses.

“Dante Alighieri?”

“He’s the one that went to Hell?”

The student looked at Donghyuck for a bit, as if weighing the odds of Donghyuck joking with him. Donghyuck felt fragile, desperate. He bit his lip to withhold from bursting out that he wasn’t joking, not even a little, okay? He curled his hands over the edge of the library desk, and leaned slightly forward to see the student’s computer screen, wondering if he already had his search results pulled up.

“...Yes.”

“Then yes. Dante Alighieri,” Donghyuck flicked his gaze from the corner of the computer screen that was visible to him to the student. His eyes were wide behind his glasses. Belatedly, Donghyuck added, “Also Greek mythology.”

Donghyuck left the front desk with something jumped up in his throat, a block that made it difficult to breathe. Divine intervention and portals to Hell. That’s what reaching Mark depended on. That’s what he needed to find, unless he wanted to wait years more.

Hours later, Donghyuck was forced to reconsider just how ‘within reach’ Hell might have been.

Dante had found a Hellmouth in a forest in Italy. He’d had divine help. Orpheus had lucked into a whole pantheon of gods to back him up, and even that hadn’t helped him save his love, in the end.

Donghyuck closed the Greek mythology book that he’d been pouring over. He slumped back against the bookshelf behind him. He gazed unfocused at the shelves across from him. It seemed like ages ago that he’d kissed Mark there. It felt like eons had eclipsed since he’d laid eyes on Mark for the last time.

Donghyuck sighed. He pushed his hand through his hair. He wondered why he had thought that. He and Mark’s goodbye wasn’t the last time they’d see each other. It wouldn’t be.

Love was magic, Mark had said. Magic didn’t care about how things should be, how things ought to be. Magic hadn’t cared that he and Mark were better together than apart. It hadn’t paid any mind to how things should have been when it had wrenched Mark from Donghyuck.

Maybe now that Donghyuck and Mark were meant to be apart, magic would turn the same blind eye to how things ought to be. Maybe magic would actually help them be reunited.

Johnny was late with Mark’s letter on Wednesday. He showed up after Donghyuck had been in the library for hours already, interrupting him in the midst of falling deeper and deeper into a confused spiral as he read through his textbooks and his mythological books.

Donghyuck,

I asked my friend Taeil after work yesterday. He’s the oldest guy I’ve ever met – older than Yuta, older than the boss. He’s even older than Johnny. I thought he might know something Yuta hadn’t known. He basically said the same things, though. Taeil told me that humans can get help from the gods, or The God, or even some angels apparently. That Dante dude got help from a dead poet.

It’s all really confusing, I’m sorry. Please don’t get discouraged, though. It’s been done before! I could probably ask some of the regulars at the bar? Maybe the human perspective could help some...

I know you’re probably tired of hearing this but I miss you, Donghyuck. No one down here’s got a laugh like yours, but I still hear it everywhere. Sometimes the wind whistles and I think it could be you, whistling one of your songs. It doesn’t even sound anything like you, when I stop and listen harder. I’m just… I don’t know. It’ll be fine, though. We’ll be fine, Donghyuck.

Truthfully, since I’ve been here, I’ve gotten bogged down in thinking of all of my missed opportunities. I kept thinking of what we could’ve been if I’d only just opened myself up to you a little more while I was still up there. I wish I hadn’t been so scared to let you in.

I stayed up late thinking about those kinds of things. But I figured something out the last couple of days. Instead of going back over those moments when I messed up, I’ve been letting myself imagine things we might do in the future, if you find your way here.

We don’t have much in the way of pretty sights down here, but we do have some entertaining shows. I think I’d like to take you to one of them if you’ll let me. It can be kinda crazy, kinda takes awhile to get used to. But even when I first came down here, I never minded the shows.

They’ve changed a lot over the years. They’ve gotten bigger, flashier, showier. My mom would probably have called them wicked, but I don’t know. I think they’re even more fun now. I think you might think so too. I hope so, anyways. Otherwise you’ll be stuck with just me for entertainment, and I’m not sure how that’ll go.

Love always,

Mark

“Johnny, you ever heard of something called a Hellmouth?” Donghyuck asked, right as Johnny had begun to walk away with his letter for Mark.

Johnny paused. He looked at Donghyuck over his shoulder, and Donghyuck gazed back, searching for a spark of recognition in Johnny’s eye. Donghyuck was tired, and getting tireder, and he got the feeling that even Johnny had picked up on it. He hadn’t teased Donghyuck nearly at all that day.

After a beat, Johnny broke eye contact. He turned his head, angled it up, and sighed. Donghyuck watched him with mounting anxiety, wondering what could warrant that kind of reaction.

“You’ve roped Mark into this too, haven’t you?”

Donghyuck felt as if he’d been plunged head first in ice water.

“What?”

Johnny pursed his lips. He turned to face Donghyuck head on. Under his gaze, Donghyuck felt a crawling feeling, the discomfiting sensation of something inching its way up his back.

“It was cute at first, but it’s time to knock it off, Donghyuck.”

There wasn’t a note of unkindness in Johnny’s voice but his words still hit Donghyuck like a physical force. He had to set his shoulders so he wouldn’t wince.

“Knock what off?” Donghyuck had the nerve to ask, though he knew already. Johnny flattened his mouth.

“He’s happier now than I can ever remember seeing him. I know it’s because of you, so I guess I owe you for that. Thank you for doing what we couldn’t. But think about the promises you’re making him,” Johnny’s eyes flicked down to Mark’s letter, which Donghyuck still held in a delicate grasp. He looked back up, “He’s got it in his head that you’re coming for him.”

If Donghyuck had any doubt Johnny was sneaking peeks at what they wrote to each other, that would have done away with the last of it.

“I am coming for him,” Donghyuck said, tiny, without any confidence at all.

He looked down at Mark’s letter, at his admission that he’d started to plan for the future. For their future. He thought about Johnny’s revelation that Mark was happier now than he might have been in the full eighty years he’d been in Hell.

“I am , ” Donghyuck repeated, firmer, trying to make himself believe it.

“And then what, Donghyuck?” Johnny asked, “What are you going to do once you get to Hell? Where are you and Mark going to go from there?”

Donghyuck blinked, his entire world spun on its axis by the weight of just a few questions. Johnny shook his head. He expression was grim.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, without a hint of amusement.

Johnny nodded at Donghyuck, then turned on his heel. Donghyuck watched him go, his gaze wide eyed, his mind reeling.

And then what.

Donghyuck rose from the library carpet. He’d never thought about it. He hadn’t thought beyond getting to Mark, finding Mark, then maybe, maybe kissing him. That was as far ahead as he’d planned.

Donghyuck pushed his hand through his hair, trying to figure out why he hadn’t figured that out – why it had taken Johnny pointing it out for him to realize that he didn’t know where he and Mark could go from there.

Mark would still be stuck in Hell, Donghyuck thought. He shouldered his bag, and started toward the end of the row. But Donghyuck could just keep visiting Mark, surely, Donghyuck told himself. He stumbled past students who had their heads hung low over their textbooks, not paying his uneven gait any mind.

Once he found out how to get to Mark, that would mean the hardest part was over. Everything else could work itself out, he told himself. All he needed to do was get to Hell. Although Johnny hadn’t seemed to think that would be it, a small part of Donghyuck’s brain pointed out. He pressed the down button on the elevator, as Johnny’s grim expression floated back to the top of his mind.

And then what.

The elevator doors opened. Donghyuck walked in, his feet moving automatically upon hearing the elevator’s ding.

And then… he and Mark would live together, happily ever after, is what Donghyuck wanted to say. But how realistic was a happily ever after when the one you loved was a demon stuck in Hell?

Donghyuck barely registered the presence of another person in the elevator. He was only just aware enough to keep himself in check, to convince himself to stop his spiral of thinking and bury his thoughts. Mark and he loved each other, everything else came after.

Donghyuck exhaled. He took a deep breath in. As the elevator started to descend, he reached into his pockets to draw out his phone and headphones. He was still untangling his headphones when the elevator stopped descending, ceasing movement in a split second.

Donghyuck wobbled. He felt as if his stomach had been scrambled by the jarring halt. Donghyuck’s heart was pounding in his chest. It hammered against his ribcage as he heard something creaking overhead.

His gaze snapped up. His headphones tumbled from his fingers, landed on the floor of the elevator with a light clatter. He didn’t notice, or care. Donghyuck was filled with sheer, overwhelming panic.

Donghyuck strained his ears for the creaking overhead, as he straightened his gaze to look at the elevator door, at the numbers above it proclaiming them to be on the ground floor already, though Donghyuck knew the elevator had only just passed the fifth. The elevator was completely motionless. It was still as if frozen. Only the creaking overhead filled the air, intermittent, and growing rarer.

“Shit,” Donghyuck hissed. He didn’t know what that meant, if it meant they were safe, or that the elevator was only moments from resuming its descent, this time uncontrolled.

He jammed his headphones back in his pocket, then he turned slowly to the other person in the elevator. He took care as if even the slightest movement would cause the elevator to unjam and plummet. He didn’t know, he couldn’t be sure.

Donghyuck’s breath caught on his next inhale, as he finally took in the other occupant of the elevator.

It was a boy. Just a boy. He was far too young to be a college student. He probably wasn’t even out of middle school, if Donghyuck had to guess. He didn’t look the slightest bit panicked, and Donghyuck wondered if he was even aware that something had gone wrong, and that they appeared to be stuck for the time being.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to ask the boy if he was alright, and to tell him not to be worried. Donghyuck had his phone. He could call 911 and they’d be out of there soon enough. As if he’d detected Donghyuck’s thoughts, the boy’s eyes slid to him.

“Would you look at that?” the boy said, his voice a monotone, “The elevator’s stuck.”

The boy sounded bored, as if the entire situation was just an inconvenience. Donghyuck felt his panic subside slightly, felt confusion start to overtake it. The boy was at least aware of what had happened, then. Yet he was still acting calm. Donghyuck wondered if something was wrong with him.

“Uh,” Donghyuck said, intelligently, “Yeah. It’ll be okay, though. I’ll call nine-one-one. They’ll get here pretty quick and get us out.”

Something hard and cold flashed in the boy’s eyes, and Donghyuck suppressed the irrational, inexplicable urge to shiver.

“Yes. That’s a great idea,” the boy said. His voice was still flat, but it had a perceptible edge to it, “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

Donghyuck put down the alarm bells ringing in his head to the shock of being stuck in a failing elevator. He nodded at the boy, though he was uncertain if agreeing with the boy’s strange statement was the right move or not, as the boy stared at him.

Donghyuck reached for his phone, breaking eye contact with the boy to dial in 911. He felt the boy’s eyes on him the whole time, throughout the whole phone call with the emergency operator. He felt as if he was being observed, picked apart. He finally hung up, and forced his eyes to the boy. He was still looking at Donghyuck, his face blank.

“They said they’d be here in about half an hour,” Donghyuck said. After another beat of unblinking eye contact, Donghyuck sighed, “Will you… stop doing that?”

“No.”

Donghyuck threw his hands up, giving up. He had bigger things to worry about. He didn’t care . He sunk to the elevator floor, still feeling the boy’s eyes on him. His eyes fell from the boy’s head of pristine, glossy black hair to his spotless white sneakers.

God, Donghyuck thought. From the blank white shirt the kid was wearing, to his white shorts, to his brand new dad sneakers. Donghyuck was stuck in an elevator for half an hour with a kid with an eerily awful fashion sense who wouldn’t stop looking at him like Donghyuck was on display at the zoo.

He heard a shuffling sound, then a slight whisper of a sigh, as the boy sat down directly in front of him, his legs folded neatly underneath him. He was still staring.

Donghyuck had nearly had it with this kid.

“Seriously. Stop that,” he said, not bothering to hide his annoyance, “I’ve had a long day, and this shit just keeps getting worse and I really don’t want to yell at you, even if you are kinda creepy.”

Finally, the boy broke eye contact. His eyes fell lower, to Donghyuck’s jacket. Donghyuck found it easier to breathe all of a sudden with the boy’s cold, hard gaze off of him.

“Tell me about your day,” the boy said.

“No thank you?” Donghyuck responded, wondering what was wrong with this kid.

The boy’s eyes snapped up to Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck felt as if something had seized his heart. His shoulders hiked up, instinctive, as the corners of the boy’s mouth ticked down.

“Tell me,” the boy repeated, his voice incrementally louder, more commanding.

“F – frick,” Donghyuck sighed, suddenly conscious of his newfound responsibility to look after the kid, at least for the half hour they’d be stuck.

“I’m not about to whine about my life to a stranger. How about I tell you a fairytale or a spooky story or something instead?”

“My name is Jisung,” the boy said, “There. Now I’m not a stranger. Tell me why you’re upset. I want to hear about that.”

Donghyuck realized what was so creepy about the boy – Jisung. He didn’t know if he’d seen Jisung blink once in all their time together in the elevator. He internally begged the firefighters to hurry on their way and save him from spending any more time with the kid.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung,” Donghyuck said, rote. He gestured at himself, “I’m Donghyuck. My friends call me Hyuck. Uh. You can call me Donghyuck.”

“Yes,” Jisung said. He blinked, finally, and Donghyuck was so relieved he barely registered what a strange response that had been.

“My day… well. I don’t know where to start,” Donghyuck paused.

Jisung cocked his head. Donghyuck shifted under his gaze. He didn’t know why, but that felt like a lie. He supposed he could start with how half his thoughts started, nowadays. He could start with Mark.

“Do you know what a long distance relationship is?” he asked, all the while wondering how he’d even gotten into this absurd circumstance to begin with. It felt surreal.

“I’m not a human infant, so yes,” Jisung said, flat.

Donghyuck prayed even harder to whatever forces were out there to make the firefighters arrive sooner.

“That’s – okay. Sorry. Guess you’re not that. But uh, anyways, so my boyfriend’s really far away, right? For the past week I’ve been trying to reach him, even though it’s nearly impossible and we can’t really figure out any realistic ways of making it happen.”

“How far away?” Jisung interrupted. His eyes were glinting, cold, but something resembling a smile had turned the corners of his mouth up.

Donghyuck didn’t know why Jisung had honed in on that aspect of his story but he supposed he had no choice but to indulge the kid.

“Canada.”

The word rolled off his tongue easy as anything, automatic. Jisung scoffed, out of the blue.

“How do you fool your friends when your lies are this obvious?”

Donghyuck blinked.

“What?” he asked, his mind blanking.

“‘Canada’,” Jisung repeated, in a higher pitched voice. He snorted, and Donghyuck felt his heart skip a beat, “That’s so stupid. I can’t believe they haven’t figured you out by now.”

Donghyuck wasn’t sure how this random kid had discerned that he was lying, but he jumped to his own defense.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about –.”

“Your demon hasn’t set foot in Canada for eighty years,” Jisung said. Then he laughed again, lighter.

He giggled, as Donghyuck felt as if the elevator had dropped out from beneath him. His breath was stolen. His widened his eyes, as he was forced to look on Jisung anew.

Donghyuck’s mind darted from thought to thought, connecting the dots. The weird behavior, the insistent questioning, the bizarre clothes, the elevator getting stuck. The knowledge Jisung shouldn’t have had. The fact that the kid was an incontrovertible asshole .

“You’re not human, are you?” Donghyuck concluded.

He groaned, and thunked his head against the elevator wall behind him, letting his eyes fall shut. He didn’t need this, he thought. This was exactly what he didn’t need.

“Nope,” Jisung said, lightly, popping the ‘p’. Donghyuck could imagine a smug grin on his face.

“Not a demon either?” Donghyuck ventured, raising his hand to knead to his forehead.

“It offends me that you’d even ask,” Jisung said, flat.

Donghyuck didn’t know what it said about him, that the realization that he was sharing a jammed elevator with an angel hardly fazed him at all. It was just another thing he’d never imagined happening to him, not in a billion years. He was getting used to those kinds of things.

“Look,” Donghyuck snapped his head forward to face Jisung head on, “I wasn’t lying. I have had a long day. I don’t know why you stopped this elevator, why you’re fricking interrogating me, but I don’t really appreciate it, okay? If it’s all the same to you–.”

“I didn’t do this to the elevator,” Jisung interrupted. Donghyuck stared at him, trying to recover his train of thought. Jisung shrugged.

“I didn’t,” Jisung glanced up. His next words seemed to be directed to the ceiling, rather than to Donghyuck himself, “This is just a coincidence.”

“The frick?” Donghyuck sounded out. He might not have known enough to be sure before, but he was convinced now that demons were infinitely preferable to angels. He couldn’t see the appeal to them at all. They were disconcerting jerks.

“I’m much older than you, you don’t need to censor yourself around me,” Jisung sounded amused, which irked Donghyuck even further.

“Alright. Why the fuck are you here?”

“Wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” Jisung raised his hand, curled his fingers into a fist, and slumped his cheek onto it. He was still gazing without blinking.

“Oh. Right,” Donghyuck felt lightheaded. He wondered what that meant, whether that meant that Jisung about him, about Mark, about them.

“Ugh,” he let out. Jisung had come all the way down from Heaven to gawk at him. He didn’t feel nearly as honored as he probably should have.

“I was sitting in the Heavenly court when the King of the Underworld begged for your demon’s sentence to be lessened,” Jisung’s voice had returned to being inflection-free.

Donghyuck could barely keep up. His faint feeling grew stronger. Heavenly court, King of the Underworld. He knew he’d need time to properly process that.

“My demon…” Donghyuck repeated. His eyes flicked up to Jisung, “Mark. Wait – what? I’m sorry, what’s this about a court?”

“Your demon broke the curse. That’s not allowed, Donghyuck.”

“I know it’s not,” Donghyuck felt a flare of guilt again, aching like an old wound, familiar. His fault, his mind reminded him. Mark was stuck in Hell and it was his fault.

“It was stupid of him,” Jisung continued.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to tell Jisung exactly what it was of Mark. Selfless, maybe. Kind. Caring.

“It was also kind of… touching,” Jisung added, before Donghyuck could speak. Donghyuck paused. He swallowed, thick. Then nodded.

“He’s a good guy,” Donghyuck said, “He might not make the best decisions but… he’s good.”

Donghyuck believed that more firmly with every passing day. Jisung hummed, again. Donghyuck noted the appearance of a slight dimple between his brows, a hint of an expression other than detached amusement.

“He’s a demon,” Jisung said, “He doesn’t even have a soul, Donghyuck.”

“And he’s still a better person than most people,” Donghyuck snapped.

He wondered if this was the true reason for Jisung’s visit to earth, if he’d come solely to hold Donghyuck up and call Mark a stupid demon to his face. Donghyuck thought that if Jisung’s purpose in coming had been to get a rise out of him, it was working. He found himself growing angry, indignant on Mark’s behalf.

Jisung’s eyes fell from Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck watched, vexed, as a smile returned to his mouth. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. For a spell, the only sound in the elevator was the faint buzz of the lights overhead and the creaking and groaning of the elevator’s machinery beyond them.

“This is the most invested I’ve been in anything, in hundreds of years,” Jisung spoke into the silence, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “Maybe even a millennia or two,” he glanced back up at Donghyuck and lowered his hand from his face, “A demon and a human falling in love. This is actually… it’s new.”

Donghyuck felt his ache grow keener.

“Well, I’m glad we could entertain you, at least,” he said, hollow.

He wondered how long they had left in the elevator, how long until he could leave Jisung the asshole angel behind and stop having barely healed wounds prodded at and reopened.

“Don’t be like that,” Jisung reprimanded, without heat.

Donghyuck felt the last vestiges of fight drain from him in an instant. His bone deep exhaustion slowly started to seep back in. He slumped back against the elevator wall, and directed his gaze above Jisung’s head.

“I can’t help you,” Jisung continued, in the same tone. Donghyuck’s gaze was drawn back down. Jisung’s eyes were wide, imploring. After a beat, he continued, “I’m not as a big an idiot as your demon is. But I can tell you a few things.”

Donghyuck could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He didn’t care that Jisung was only just telling him some vague things, he’d take anything he could get. He remained quiet, irrationally scared to even breathe too loudly.

Jisung inched forward, closer to Donghyuck.

His face was solemn.

“This is just… it’s common knowledge. That’s all this is,” Jisung said, and it sounded as if it wasn’t the first time he’d said this, at least internally. Donghyuck nodded immediately, still maintaining his silence.

Jisung lifted his hand up. He ticked off one finger, his pointer finger. Donghyuck’s eyes darted to it, before going back to Jisung.

“There’s more than one entrance to Hell,” Jisung said.

It took Donghyuck a moment. He gasped, light, and he pushed himself back off the wall.

“There’s another Hellmouth,” he translated. Jisung’s eyes flashed their cold flash, indicating he’d interpreted the hint correctly. Donghyuck felt a swooping, soaring feeling. Hope, returning.

“Where?” he asked, wondering if it was on the continent, if it was even nearer.

“Close enough that you and your demon will be reunited soon. Very soon,” Jisung’s eyes flicked up, then back down. He set his mouth, “I can’t tell you anything more. You have everything you need to know to figure it out.”

Donghyuck already starting searching his mind, trying to figure out if Jisung was right, if he knew anything.

“I don’t think I do…” Donghyuck admitted, hesitant.

“Yes, you do,” Jisung rolled his eyes at Donghyuck. Donghyuck was too caught up in his thoughts to care.

“If you can’t figure it out on your own, ask your idiot friends for help,” Jisung continued.

“My friends aren’t idiots,” Donghyuck protested, instinctive, distracted.

Jisung looked at Donghyuck with a blank expression. It took a beat.

Donghyuck’s breath caught. His friends were smart. Jaemin with his 4.0 in his mathematics major, Jeno pursuing an engineering degree, Renjun well into learning his fourth language.

Donghyuck was filled with disbelief at none other than himself. He should have told them about Mark and about his trouble reaching him sooner. What did he have to lose? They might believe he was crazy, sure, and it wasn’t exactly solely his secret to share. But they could help , where Johnny had no desire to and Jisung was unable to.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck sighed.

Jisung’s smile widened to a toothy grin. He looked exactly like a normal boy in that moment, grinning at Donghyuck. He nodded, once, then fell back away from Donghyuck.

For the rest of the wait, Jisung interrogated Donghyuck about the whole story of he and Mark, of how they fell for each other, demanding that he leave out no details. Donghyuck indulged him. The whole while, he wondered how the hell he was going to break the truth to his friends, and when.

Donghyuck had never prided himself on his courage. He waited until evening, until after Jeno had left the dorm to send a message to their groupchat, then quickly went back to feigning sleep. At least he’d gotten pretty good at that, over the last few weeks.

to: renjun, jeno, jaemin

hey guys i was wondering if we could

meet up after all our finals are over

i’ve got something i could use your help with

Chapter Text

Once Donghyuck woke to replies from Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno all enthusiastically agreeing to help, he was left to just sit and ponder how he might go about breaking the news to them. He didn’t even have a final on that day to distract him. He was left to tinker around his dorm, putting up a facade of studying for his last final, fooling exactly no one.

He flipped through his library books, the one of Greek mythology and the one of the old poet. As he read through Dante’s first Canto, he wondered if Jisung’s help counted as aid from an angel. He wondered where the Hellmouth might be, if Jisung was right, if it was close by.

Donghyuck only left his dorm for coffee, then for snacks. He forced himself to read through his notes for his last final, but he let himself look up Hellmouths in the interim.

In his research, he was able to find out that Hellmouths weren’t always easy to access. He didn’t know if the forum posts that he found had any bearing on the reality of how to open Hellmouths. They said it seemed difficult, with sacrifices and blood offerings and magic alike. Donghyuck kept reading and reading, growing more despondent with each entry. He hadn’t even considered it’d be difficult to open the Hellmouth once he’d found it. He couldn’t help but blame himself once more, for not thinking ahead once again.  

Donghyuck discovered that the presence of Hellmouths affected the surrounding area. They were places where strange, inexplicable things happened. Donghyuck wracked his mind. It seemed as though strange, inexplicable things had happened everywhere he had been, ever since Mark came into his life. Mark as a whole was strange and inexplicable. Donghyuck couldn’t fathom how he would be able to figure it out, when everything was connected to Mark. The supernatural events all seemed tied to a person, not a place.

When Johnny appeared in the midst of his dorm, Donghyuck didn’t even bother calling him out for not using doors properly. Jeno wasn’t there, and Donghyuck had long gotten used to demons popping in and out of existence.

“...What’s going on here?” Johnny asked, looking around Donghyuck. His eyes flitted over  the chip bag and candies strewn about Donghyuck, over the bedcovers.

“I’m working.”

Donghyuck reached out for Mark’s letter. Johnny raised a single brow, but he cleared off an area of the bed by Donghyuck’s feet and took a seat. As he read through the letter, Donghyuck could hear him rustling through the candy.

Donghyuck,

You’re having trouble with the info we got from Yuta? Maybe he was lying to me after all. Ugh, I’m so sorry, Donghyuck. I should try harder at finding ways that connect above from down here. I probably won’t be able to go through it myself, but maybe I can send some sort of sign up or something, and you could find it and –

Wait, that idea’s crap, isn’t it?

I’ve come up with so many awful ideas, you wouldn’t believe. My friends keep laughing at me when I run my ideas by them. My first idea was reverse summoning you. Apparently that stuff doesn’t work so well on humans, though. It’s probably a good thing. I just thought about the possibility of summoning you in the middle of one of your exams.

Speaking of exams, I hope you’re not working yourself too hard, Donghyuck. You’re spending all this time working to reach me when you’re already in what I’m pretty sure is a stressful time. I can wait too, Donghyuck. I don’t mind. I waited a hundred years to meet you.

We can wait to work on this until after your exams are over, if that helps? Just look after yourself, okay? Put yourself first…

By the time Donghyuck finished reading Mark’s letter, he found that he had wrapped his own arm tight around his belly. He held his breath as he glanced down and saw the leather-clad arm slung around him, knowing it wasn’t the same. He always felt a touch too cold, now. He hadn’t felt right in a long time. He let his arm fall down.

Then, Donghyuck let his mind wander. He let himself think of something he hadn’t allowed himself to. Donghyuck gave in, and he let himself imagine that instead of reading Mark’s words, he was listening to Mark speak them.

It took him a moment, to dredge up the memory of how Mark’s voice sounded, and that scared him. It terrified him. He and Mark had been apart longer than they’d ever been together, and he was afraid it was starting to make itself known. He managed to recall Mark’s voice, eventually. With effort, he managed to envision Mark joking around aloud as he did in his letter.  

“You okay?” Johnny asked.

Donghyuck looked up. Johnny looked blurred through his wet eyes. Maybe it was the fact that Donghyuck couldn’t see his pitying expression clearly that allowed Donghyuck to open up.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.
He was afraid he wasn’t. After Jisung’s hint, Mark was closer than ever before, but Donghyuck still felt so terrified. Mark mattered so much to him. He was so integral to Donghyuck’s happiness and that was terrifying, to have one person have such a hold over him.

Donghyuck sniffed. He blinked his eyes to clear them, and Johnny’s face swam into definition. His eyes were wide with concern. His arm was stretched out halfway between them as if he’d moved to reach out, then thought better of it.

“Look,” Johnny began, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, “I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday. That was harsh. You didn’t deserve that.”

Donghyuck batted at his nose. It felt runny.

“It was honest,” he said, his voice hoarse, “you were just being honest. Neither of us have thought through this thing at all.”

Johnny pressed his lips together, but he didn’t say anything, not for a long moment. Donghyuck tried to no avail to catch his breath, to regulate his breathing so the fake, catching almost-sobs wouldn’t make their presence known to Johnny.

“I still shouldn’t have said it like that,” Johnny said, eventually.

“But you’re right,” Donghyuck choked out, “Mark’s a demon. It hasn’t ever been easy for us. It isn’t ever going to be easy for us. The only time anything felt easy was when I –.”

Donghyuck cut himself off. He cast his gaze up. It was getting easier to bare himself to Johnny, but not about this.

“The only thing that was easy about Mark was falling in love with him.”

In retrospect, Donghyuck thought, that was simple. It hadn’t taken long at all to fall for Mark. The moment he’d met Mark, he had decided he wanted to keep him around. The love followed.

Johnny cleared his throat. When he spoke, his words came slow and meticulous.

“You and Mark… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe you two are special. Maybe you two will figure it out, in the end.”

Donghyuck blinked. Out of all the things that could have come out of Johnny’s mouth, that wasn’t what he’d expected.

A corner of Johnny’s mouth lifted up. His eyes fell from Donghyuck, and he dropped his hand and began to pick through the candy strewn by Donghyuck’s feet.

“But you didn’t hear that from me,” Johnny added, before picking up a fun size kit-kat, and starting in on it.

Donghyuck thought long on that. He thought long on Johnny’s warning not to get Mark’s hopes up. He understood that. He did. If Donghyuck could find a way to spare Mark from the precipitous highs and the swooping lows that he was going through, he would.

So he mentioned nothing of Jisung in his next letter, only adding in that maybe Yuta had been telling the truth after all, and that Donghyuck wasn’t giving up on the Hellmouth idea just yet. He asked Mark about Hell itself for the first time. It was hard to come off as casual, but he asked as if he just curious, just wondering.

Donghyuck asked how cold it was exactly, and how dangerous it was to walk around down below. He asked how he could find Mark, in the hypothetical case that he managed to find a way to get there.

He closed the letter with the same reminder that he always did, that he would always be Mark’s. The words came automatically, his hand never pausing as he wrote, but the sign-off still felt weighted to Donghyuck. He still meant every ounce of it, every implication. It wasn’t easy, but he would be Mark’s, always.

Once Johnny left with Donghyuck’s letter, Donghyuck resumed putting up the pretense of packing. He sorted through his things, folding his clothes and putting them in bags to haul home.

As he dug through his drawers, he unearthed the spellbook once more.

Laying eyes on it, on its ancient, familiar cover, Donghyuck’s legs suddenly felt weak. He had to take a seat as his eyes traced the gnarled letters on the cover. The last time he’d seen the book had been the day Mark disappeared. After Mark’s letters, Donghyuck knew now that Mark had read the spellbook to figure out how to break the curse.

Donghyuck flipped through the pages, taking the same care with them as he had at the very beginning, before everything had gone from bad to amazing to awful. He paused as he reached the page on summoning a demon. He read over it the instructions he already knew, that he was sure he could never forget.

He thought about Johnny’s small words of confidence and of his advice the day before.

And then what?

Donghyuck had never been good at thinking through things fully, he supposed. He’d always jumped first and asked questions later. It was why he had cursed himself, and why he ever met Mark to begin with. Donghyuck wrenched his gaze from the instructions on summoning, and kept flipping through the spellbook’s pages.

His eyes scanned the paper, tracing the gnarled letters printed across the thick, coarse parchment. Summoning, demons, incantations, rituals. Most of the book’s content was as expected. His eyes snagged on one word, glaring in its contrast to those that had preceded it.

Love.

Donghyuck felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. He read on, feeling as though that paralysis that had gripped him in the wake of Mark’s disappearance was coming back in full force.

Love, the book said, was the strongest combatant of dark magic. Love, it said, could cure all ills. Even curses could be broken with love. Mark had been reading those words when he’d said he knew how to break the curse.

Donghyuck knew all this, but the reminder ached. He sniffed. No matter how awful he felt at that moment ,he knew it couldn’t compare to how he’d felt right after Mark had kissed him, right after Mark had vanished without a trace or explanation.

But it just kept getting harder to find him.

Jisung might have pointed him to the Hellmouth, but Donghyuck wasn’t any closer to finding it, and he had no idea how he would open it once he did find it. He felt lost, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was spiralling.

Johnny said that they had a chance, but Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel that he was squandering it. He couldn’t figure even the simplest things out, even with help from demons and angels alike.

Donghyuck squeezed his eyes shut.

Think, he told himself. You can figure it out if you just think for once in your life. Jisung had said he had everything he needed to figure it out already.

Donghyuck’s eyes flew open. He’d made this mistake once before, he realized, with a start. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He’d overlooked the obvious solution to finding a way to break the curse, and let Mark beat him to finding it. Donghyuck’s heart lurched in his chest. His gaze fell to the book in his hands.

The spellbook had incantations for summoning demons. The spellbook also had instructions for breaking curses. There was a chance it had something within it on finding and unlocking gates of Hell, too.

Donghyuck’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. With trembling fingers, he flipped back to the spellbook’s first page, and started reading through it once more. This time, he wasn’t looking for something he could do to procrastinate. This time, he wasn’t looking for the passage that had made Mark decide to kiss him.

This time, Donghyuck was looking for Hell. He was looking for a way in, any way he could get it.

Hours into peering into the spellbook in search of anything that might help and finding nothing, Donghyuck was starting to feel drowsy.

His eyes tracked the words, squinting to make out the text that was written in ink faded by centuries. Donghyuck yawned, then blinked, his eyelids feeling heavy.

Infernum Invokare

Donghyuck blinked again. He rubbed his eyes, and pulled up his phone, googling the term to confirm his suspicions. Donghyuck glanced from his phone screen down to the book, open in his lap. Invoking Hell… Donghyuck rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes. That incantation sounded promising.

He read on, and on.

He could have laughed. The invocation ritual seemed nearly indistinguishable from the first one he’d tried, what felt like eons ago. Once more it called for a pentagram, candles, and an incantation. Donghyuck could do that, Donghyuck knew he could do that.

His gaze snagged in another portion of the text, a portion above the Infernum Invokare  and his heartbeat stuttered.

‘For coaxing open the jaws of Hell’, it read. Donghyuck supposed that clarified…. something. He wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t sure he liked the ‘jaws’ portion, nor the thumbnail sized picture by the text. He hadn’t thought much of the miniscule painting before, but he took a closer look. It was drawn in a medieval style, that flattened type of depicting a scene that made Donghyuck’s head spin and made Renjun coo in excitement.

It had a multitude of little figures cramped into a dark expansive whole. The figures were contorted, their tiny faces unreadable but the pain they must have been in clear from the way their limbs were oriented in such unnatural positions. Donghyuck inhaled, sharp. Hell.

There was a white border surrounding the darkness the figures were trapped in. The border snaked around the dark expanse, and was segmented at regular intervals. Donghyuck squinted. When he did, the little white segments almost resembled teeth.

Donghyuck shuddered. He felt a chill crawl down his spine, with the rapidity and subtlety of a thousand tiny spiders traversing his skin.

“Fuck no,” Donghyuck exhaled.

Then he closed his eyes, and Mark’s words floated to the top of his mind. His plans for what Donghyuck could only call dates, once Donghyuck finally got to Hell. His plans for when Donghyuck succeeded. Without meaning to, Donghyuck’s thoughts drifted.

He didn’t know much of Hell, so the backdrop was just a vague black space. The setting didn’t matter, though, because the image in his mind didn’t need more than its two subjects. In front of the black void, he and Mark, laughing with each other. Mark’s head was tossed back at some joke Donghyuck had just made.

Donghyuck held his breath as the thought shifted, as Mark’s laughter quieted. The echoes of it lasted as Mark’s expression altered, filling Donghyuck with warmth and a sense of peace.

In his imagined illusion, Mark lowered his gaze. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He was smiling, though, looking on Donghyuck sweetly, with a glint of something devilish in his eye. It was just the look on his face when he had covered for Donghyuck and made up a story about their pretend relationship, or the look on his face when he’d mentioned how much he liked soft things.

His imagined Mark angled closer, his eyelids falling, his lashes gracing his cheeks. But as Mark neared for a kiss, Donghyuck realized something was off. He wondered what it was, until it struck him. He couldn’t make out the details of Mark’s face. He looked blurry, vague, his skin smoothed over where Donghyuck felt sure he should have been able to see some sort of subtle imperfections. But Donghyuck couldn’t remember them, he realized. He’d forgotten the smallest details of Mark’s face.

No longer able to hold his breath, Donghyuck gasped, and the image shattered. Donghyuck’s eyes flew open.

His heart was beating improbably quick. He didn’t know if it raced for Mark or out of fear of what he’d forgotten. Donghyuck’s gaze fell to the Hell invocation, with the horrific depiction of a Hellmouth by it.

But he’d just had an even bigger scare, he realized. With a bravado he wasn’t sure he felt, Donghyuck told himself that Hellmouths probably weren’t that scary. Dante’s Hellmouth had just been a cave, after all. With that uneasy thought in mind, Donghyuck set the spellbook down, open on his bed.

Donghyuck thought briefly how lucky he was that he’d never actually returned Renjun’s candles. They were hidden in a corner under his bed, and nothing was stopping Donghyuck from taking them out and using them for prying open Hell’s jaws, or however the spellbook had termed it.

He knew how to open a Hellmouth, he thought. At least, he was pretty sure he did. He just needed to figure out where the fuck he could find one.

Donghyuck had a new document filled with notes by the time Jeno returned to their dorm. The document started with ‘goingtohell.docx’ and had bullet points including: ‘incantation w/ candles and markers’, ‘hellmouth close by???’, ‘asshole angel says i know where it is already but do i? do i really??’.

Jeno walked in as Donghyuck was typing the words ‘lots of ~spooky energy~ near it’ onto the document. Donghyuck startled once Jeno crossed his field of vision, his fingers clattering against his laptop keyboard.

“Hey, Jeno,” he greeted, weakly, once he’d composed himself.

“Hyuck,” Jeno nodded his way.

Donghyuck watched him, wary, wondering if he’d bring up his text from the previous night. All of them had readily agreed to meet up with Donghyuck on Friday, by midday. They’d seemed curious, but not overly concerned.

Sure enough, Jeno asked about it as he readied for bed.

“What was that text about?”

Donghyuck had thought it over. He’d had time to prepare his answer.

“Nothing too big,” Donghyuck said, then winced. Lies just seemed to come easier and easier to him. He wondered how he’d fare tomorrow, telling them the truth for the first time, “Just need help with something, like I said. I don’t want you guys to worry about it while you still have finals to take, though.”

Jeno nodded, an easy grin working its way onto his face.

“That’s good. I’m glad,” Jeno drew his covers aside and climbed into his bed. He laughed, light, “Y’know, my first thought was that it might be something Mark related. Like, you two fought or something.”

Donghyuck felt the odd desire to laugh then. He allowed himself a smile.

“Nah, nothing like that.”

For a brief moment, he had a flash of an alternate universe where that might have been his concern with Mark. Some timeline where they were both human and their biggest worries were who snapped at who and who wasn’t being understanding enough.

Donghyuck shook his head.

“It is Mark related, though.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s voice was pensive, “Huh.”

Donghyuck stared at his laptop screen, at the images of gaping Hellmouths and gashes in grounds, artwork spanning centuries that depicted all different sorts of entrances to Hell. Whatever Jeno was imagining, Donghyuck thought, there was no way it compared to reality.

☾

When Donghyuck sat down to take his last final he didn’t feel a hint of testing anxiety. He filled in answers without second guessing himself, for the first time that week. His eyes never strayed to the clock at the front of the hall, above the projector screens. He never looked around him to make sure the other students were going the same pace as him.

Donghyuck wasn’t anxious about the exam. He couldn’t be, because his apprehension at telling his friends about Mark crowded out all other sources of nerves. Donghyuck left the exam hall feeling confident as he never had in his previous exams, and feeling completely lost of what to say and how to start the conversation about Mark.

The weather was cold and it kept getting colder. Donghyuck figured a cold front blew through that morning. It had brought with it clouds that covered up the sun, extinguishing even that small source of heat. Donghyuck shivered into his leather jacket as he hurried back towards his dorm.

Jaemin was the last one of them to take an exam. He’d be done by one in the afternoon. Donghyuck had a couple hours to think through things. He drew out all of Mark’s letters, digging through his pillowcase where he’d hidden them. He took out the library books on Greek myths and Dante, and put the spellbook right by them.

Donghyuck checked the time on his phone. Johnny would probably be arriving soon but, if Donghyuck thought about it, he didn’t mind so much if Johnny caught him leafing through the book in some vain attempt to understand things. At least he knew Johnny would sigh at him again, just for trying.

When Johnny appeared in the midst of Donghyuck’s dorm, he’d only just managed to get though a few more pages of the spellbook.

“Hey, Donghyuck,” Johnny greeted. With an exaggerated groan, he flopped down on the ground and joined Donghyuck.

“What’s all this?” He glanced around, at the letters and books surrounding Donghyuck.

Donghyuck glanced at the mess surrounding him, imagining he was seeing it through Johnny’s eyes. He could play it off as a joke. He could lie. Or, Donghyuck thought, he could start telling the truth. A warm up, for later.

Donghyuck looked up at Johnny.

“I was wondering if there was anything I’d missed,” Donghyuck admitted, “I know how to get to Hell. I’ve even figured out the incantation to let myself in. I just… need to find a place to do it.”

Johnny’s face did several things at once. Donghyuck couldn’t make sense of it, the twist of his mouth as if he were about to smile coupled with the sudden visible strain at the corners of his eyes. Happy and pained, all at once.

“Oh.”

Johnny was silent for a moment. He reached into his jacket pocket, and withdrew Mark’s letter. Through the thin vellum, Donghyuck could make out sketched lines, something other than just words written on it. Johnny stared at the letter, then glanced back up at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck took the letter.

“Say it,” he started, in a low voice, “Tell me my hopes are too high and I need to think more realistically.”

Johnny said nothing for an extended spell.

Then, “I’m not about to make you cry again, Donghyuck.”

He reached his hand up and flicked it through his hair, pushing it off his brow and out of his eyes, “And I’m not about to lie to you either. I’m not sure if your hopes are too high after all. I think you two have started to make me believe in your delusions too,” Johnny sighed. His gaze dropped. He muttered under his breath, “Satan help me.”

“Really?”

Donghyuck could scarcely believe it.

“Really,” Johnny said, tired, but firm. He nodded down at Mark’s letter in Donghyuck’s hand, “He believes in you. Maybe he’s right to.”

Not sure what to expect, Donghyuck looked down and unfolded Mark’s letter.

Donghyuck,

You’re not really good at being subtle either hahaha. Did you figure something out? I’m trying not to expect anything too big. It’s a lot to ask for you to do it all alone like you are right now. But… from the way you were talking about it, it seems like you might be onto something? But I’m not getting my expectations up, I promise!

The first thing you should know is that Hell isn’t anything like the way you humans talk about it. I’ve already told you it’s cold. But it’s not a frozen wasteland. If I had to describe it, I’d call it a city. There’s buildings and streets. It wouldn’t look out of place on Earth, but it’s always night here.

The sun never rises, and the streets are filled with souls. The souls should leave you alone, I think. They mostly just go about as they did in their best moments on Earth. You know – having fun, being wicked. They always leave us demons alone (but now that I think about it, that might be because we’re demons…).

As for where you can find me, I think no matter when you come here your safest bet will be to find me at the bar. It’s called The Maw. I’ll include a map but, really, you can’t miss it. It’s got a giant neon red tiger on its side. Ask any soul, they should be able to point you to it. The Maw’s kinda infamous, even down here.

Below the last paragraph, sketched out in black pen, was an overhead map of what Donghyuck could only assume was Hell. Off in one far corner of it, near the edge of the paper, was a little square that Mark had labelled ‘The Maw’. Donghyuck couldn’t miss it, given that it was circled in about a dozen sketched circles.

Within the square was a little drawing of a figure. There was no mistaking who it was, with its scribbled black hair and minuscule fangs.

Mark’s depiction of himself hadn’t changed at all, save for the smile that had taken place of the surly pout that had been there before.

Donghyuck had to smile too. He traced the little Mark with his fingertip. All he could think of was Johnny’s words, days back. His confession that Mark was happier now than he’d been in a long time. Donghyuck could take solace in that, that he must have been doing something right. Just thinking that he could have made Mark’s days brighter despite their situation brought a smile to his face.

“Look at that. Look at what he drew,” Donghyuck brandished Mark’s map of Hell. He hefted it high and pointed the little sketch of Mark out to Johnny. Donghyuck grinned, “He’s such a dork, oh my God.”

“So you’ve said,” Johnny looked as though he was holding back a smile. His eyes glinted with withheld mirth. Donghyuck scrunched up his nose at him, getting the feeling Johnny was laughing at him.

Donghyuck lowered the map, giving up. His eyes fell, and he once more traced the lines of Hell’s streets, the misshapen rectangles and squares that had to represent buildings, and the little sketch of smiling Mark.

“He really does believe in me, doesn’t he?” Donghyuck exhaled.

Johnny hummed in confirmation.

He didn’t know how that made him feel, the weight of Mark’s trust in him. It felt warm, content, comfortable, like he was wrapped in blankets on a chilly day. But he didn’t want to let Mark down. It went beyond a simple desire. Donghyuck couldn’t let him down.

Donghyuck took a deep breath and wrote his reply.

Dear Mark,

You caught me. I can’t believe you saw right through me. I thought I could’ve fooled you at least. Just... imagine me pouting. I’m pouting right now, look what you’ve done.

I can’t believe Hell’s been a city this whole time. I went to Sunday School, and they didn’t teach me anything like that in there. I thought it’d be just the usual stuff. Flames. Just a shitton of fire.

I’m glad it's not though! That makes everything a lot easier. Your map will too. Not that anything’s definitively happening. I can’t promise anything, either. But I might have made a new friend who might have enlightened me about some potential prospects for getting into Hell. Maybe. Possibly.

Johnny thinks that when I call you a dork I’m actually calling you something else entirely. I think Johnny’s crazy. You’re a dork, Mark. A cute, handsome, adorable, hot, sweet… dork. See? Totally meant it.

By the way, I’m kind of roping my friends into this search for a way to you. I’ll probably tell them almost everything about you, at least the stuff that’s relevant to finding you. I’ll be telling them that you’re a demon, and that I summoned you and ending up cursing myself. I guess I’ll end up telling them an abridged version of how we fell in love?

I’m kind of nervous for that… kind of really nervous. I keep thinking they’ll just think I’m crazy. Even if they accept that you’re not human, that you’re a demon stuck in Hell – and those are big Ifs – I’m not sure if they’ll understand why I’m so desperate to get there. I hope they get that you’re worth it for me. Finding you is worth how confusing all this shit has been. You’re kind of worth everything to me, after all.

...That was so cheesy. Please tell me that brought a smile to your face, at least.

Yours always,

Donghyuck

Donghyuck said goodbye to Johnny and, in what felt like no time at all, he was getting texts from Jaemin saying he’d finally finished his exam. He’d met up with Renjun and Jeno for lunch and they were just waiting for their check, then they’d be right over to help Donghyuck.

‘wru’ Jaemin sent, echoed by Renjun and Jeno alike.

‘jeno and i’s dorm’ Donghyuck sent back, ‘sorry in advance about the mess’.

“Hyuck, what have you done to our dorm?” Jeno whined upon entering, with Jaemin and Renjun hot on his heels, “I thought you were already all packed up.”

Donghyuck looked at Jaemin and Renjun’s apprehensive faces, then back down at Mark’s letters scattered around him, the spellbook and the library books littered among the letters. He looked back up, not feeling an ounce of guilt for the clutter.

“This is what I need your help with, guys,” he gestured around him, then sighed and slumped back, “You might want to take a seat. This’ll take awhile to explain properly.”

Donghyuck sat with bated breath as his friends glanced at each other, then looked back to him. It spoke volumes, he thought – how they didn’t protest. They just nodded and agreed to sit down, settling down in the few spaces that were still left open on the cramped dorm floor.

They trusted him enough not to question him too much, at least not aloud anyways. Donghyuck took solace in that. He took a long breath in hopes of quelling his nerves. It didn’t work.

He swallowed, hard, and forced the first words out. As he spoke, he made sure not to let his eyes stray too far from his friends’. He didn’t want to spend the whole time looking away from them. He needed them to see he meant what he was saying, every part of it, every seemingly far-fetched idea.

“So. There’s something I need to tell you guys about Mark.”

Renjun and Jaemin exchanged glances at each other, while Jeno nodded. It was nothing new to him. Donghyuck took another deep breath in.

“He’s not what you think he is,” Donghyuck said, before wincing. That had been too vague. He was letting his nerves get the better of him.

“Uh…”

Jaemin’s brows were drawing together. Donghyuck’s eyes caught slight movement as Renjun swatted at Jaemin’s knee. Jaemin snapped his mouth shut, but he didn’t look any less perplexed.

“What I meant to say was,” Donghyuck lifted his hand and threaded it through his hair, anxiety peaking, “Mark’s not Canadian. I mean. He is. But he isn’t my childhood friend and we didn’t meet at a party and he’s not in Canada right now. He’s actually… really far from Canada.”

Donghyuck tugged harder on his hair, as his friends stared at him with varying degrees of confusion, ranging from vague bewilderment (Jeno) to appearing utterly lost (Jaemin). Renjun looked as though he’d bitten into something unexpectedly bitter.

“This isn’t coming out right,” Donghyuck sighed. He closed his eyes, giving up on his plan on maintaining eye contact. He let the words come out, without sugarcoating it at all, “Mark’s a demon. He’s a literal soulless, magical, immortal demon. He’s in Hell.”

Utter silence followed.The only sound in the dorm room was the faint hum of the heating unit, the sound of light footsteps overhead as other students in their dorm building readied for the upcoming break.

Donghyuck cracked his eyes open, slowly.

His friends were all staring at him, wide-eyed.

“I can’t tell if he’s joking,” Renjun was the first to speak, “His jokes aren’t usually this bad, right?”

“I don’t know. This isn’t the dumbest prank he’s pulled on us,” Jaemin responded, low.

Donghyuck wrinkled his nose. He hadn’t been expecting them to believe him instantaneously, he reminded himself. Still, Donghyuck bristled. His wounded pride helped him get over his nerves.

“Jaemin, remember when I told you I was going to summon a demon?”

Jaemin looked lost, still. Then, it seemed to click. His eyes widened, then he exhaled, sharp.

“It worked,” Donghyuck said, seizing upon Jaemin’s momentary surprise. He reached forward, plucked the spellbook from underneath a few of Mark’s letters, “I used this and I summoned a demon. That demon was Mark.”

“Hyuck...” Renjun began, his voice unexpectedly soft, tender. Donghyuck looked at him, his turn to be surprised. Renjun continued carefully, “Mark seems like a really decent guy, I don’t think you should be calling him a demon.”

“He is a decent guy and I’m not just calling him a demon,” Donghyuck stared back at Renjun, aghast.

He noticed belatedly that Jaemin was reaching toward him. Gently, Jaemin lifted the spellbook from Donghyuck’s hands. Donghyuck didn’t even protest. Jaemin cracked open the cover. A crease appeared between his drawn brows as he started to read.

A clap shocked the air. Donghyuck startled, then turned to its source. Jeno had a look of elation on his face.

“That makes sense!” Jeno beamed.

“What?” Donghyuck breathed, still recovering from Jeno’s sudden clap.

“What? ” Renjun echoed, “No, it doesn’t. What the fuck?”

“He had pointy ears,” Jeno continued, turning to Renjun. Donghyuck blinked. He hadn’t thought Jeno had caught a glimpse of Mark’s ears. He wondered when that could’ve happened, and why Jeno hadn’t mentioned it before.

“How did you know about those?”

“I shared a room with him too, Hyuck,” Jeno sighed, then, he brightened, “Wait. His teeth – they were pointy. That’s also a demon thing, right?”

“So Mark had pointy teeth and pointy ears,” Renjun cut in, as frustration overtook his shortlived tender tone, “That doesn’t make him a demon. He could be a plastic surgery addict, or something.”

“What?” Donghyuck had to protest, “No, he’s not. He’s all real. They’re real.”

Renjun shot Donghyuck a look of utter bemusement. Donghyuck stopped talking and pressed his lips shut, but not before mumbling, “I swear, they are. I’ve felt them.”

“Johnny’s a demon too!” Jeno said, suddenly.

“Seriously, who the fuck is Johnny?” Renjun whinged.

“Johnny is a demon,” Donghyuck exhaled, turning to Jeno, ignoring Renjun’s protests, “How did you–?”

“The teeth!” Jeno interrupted, before Donghyuck could finish his question. Jeno was wearing a broad grin, “Johnny’s teeth were even pointier than Mark’s!”

Donghyuck didn’t know how he could’ve figured that out. He only nodded, dumbfounded, forcing himself to reconsider just how covert he’d been with the couple of demons in his life.

Renjun flung his hands up in disbelief.

“You guys are both –.”

“Hyuck, what’s this about a curse?”

Jaemin’s low voice undercut whatever Renjun had been about to say. At Jaemin’s soft spoken words, Donghyuck felt as if he’d been yanked back to reality, forcibly pushed back on track. Jaemin was looking up at him over the spellbook.

“You said you used this to summon a demon… the book says that you’re supposed to use it to put a curse on someone?”

“Oh, Jesus, there’s a curse now too?” Renjun grumbled.

Jeno’s smile slipped from his face. He turned to Donghyuck, his face expectant. Donghyuck felt the weight of his gaze.

Donghyuck looked at the spellbook, Jaemin’s silhouette cast into shadows over its pages. He exhaled, too light to be a proper sigh. It was with a mounting pain in his chest that he launched into the full story, beginning with Mark’s knock on his dorm door weeks prior.

They weren’t dating, he explained. That was fake, he admitted, his voice hollow. Jeno asked with more gentleness than the situation warranted why he’d trusted Mark enough to let  him sleep in his bed, from the very first night. Mark was a demon after all, Jeno pointed out.

Donghyuck could only shrug. It had been another thing he just hadn’t thought about, not until it was too late, like every other thing. Letting Mark into his bed wasn’t his worst mistake, by far.

Donghyuck explained about the curse, about how he’d fucked up.

“I cursed myself,” Donghyuck said, before shaking his head, “No. I think I actually ended up cursing us. I... I’m sorry, guys. I haven’t apologized but a lot of shit that happened to you was all because of me and my mistakes.”

As his friends accepted his apology, their faces confused, Donghyuck heard Mark’s voice in the back of his head. He heard Mark reminding him that the curse hadn’t forced them to do anything, and that he had no reason to feel guilty. But that had been before Donghyuck’s curse had gotten Mark trapped for years in Hell.

His breath caught when he first attempted to explain the subsequent confusion, how his feelings for Mark got deeper and deeper as the curse spiraled and worsened.

“We had to break it,” Donghyuck choked out. He’d been talking for awhile by then, though that wasn’t why his throat ached, raw. The memories being dredged by his retelling clawed at him.

“We – No. That’s not right. I had to break it,” Donghyuck corrected, “Mark shouldn’t have – he wasn’t supposed to –.”

“It’s okay, Hyuck,” Jeno comforted.

“Breathe,” Renjun added. Jaemin reached for Donghyuck’s shoulder, and laid his hand on it. Donghyuck’s shoulder jumped under his touch, before he relaxed. He caught his breath under his friends’ concerned gazes.

“Y’know, I didn’t even think Mark really wanted anything to do with me? I knew he didn’t hate me. But I thought he’d be alright once the curse was broken, and he finally got to leave me for good.”

Donghyuck had to close his eyes. He listed his head back and suddenly he was back in the library weeks prior, only moments removed from tears then as he was now, watching Mark watch him. Hearing his voice. Feeling the heat emanating off of him as he leaned in closer and closer, his eyes closed and his lips only just parted.

“Then he broke the curse. Mark kissed me and he’s been stuck in Hell ever since, all because he…” Donghyuck opened his eyes, slowly. Through slitted eyes he could see all of Mark’s letters, his drawings, his stories, strewn across his dorm room carpet. Donghyuck felt like he was sinking, fallen, “Because he loves me.”

There was a long silence. Donghyuck willed himself to stay quiet.

“Oh. Shit,” Jaemin said, “I – wow. Shit.”

“Mark kissed you and broke the curse… I take back every mean thing I said or thought about him,” Jeno said.

Donghyuck smiled a weak, fluttery smile. At least they were trying, he thought, feeling especially grateful for his friends for at least seeming like they believed his story. Even if it had taken him having a near breakdown in front of them, he thought, feeling sicker to his stomach all of a sudden.

“And these are… they’re from Mark,” Renjun added, quietly, lifting a letter up with his fingertips, “Love letters?”

Donghyuck nodded jerkily, then cleared his throat.

“He’s been writing me for a few weeks now. He’s stuck in Hell, but we’ve figured out a way for me to meet him there. That’s where you guys come in –.”

“Wait, what?” Jeno blurted out, “What do you mean you’re meeting Mark there?”

“Hyuck, that’s literally insane,” Renjun hissed.

Donghyuck sighed once more. Even if they believed him about Mark, he doubted they’d see how important going to Hell was for him. He doubted they’d understand why he would risk it.

“I want to be with him,” though he felt weary, Donghyuck’s voice strengthened as he spoke the words he was most confident in, “This is the only way I can think of that we can have that.”

Renjun looked like he was ready to launch into another tirade of just how crazy Donghyuck was when, out of nowhere, Jaemin reached out and slipped his hand in Renjun’s.

“Babe, c’mon,” Renjun’s eyes slid over to Jaemin. Jaemin was smiling, small, softer than any of the usual grins Donghyuck was used to seeing on him.

“It’s a little crazy but, honestly, if you were stuck in Hell, I’d definitely be trying to go down there to get you back.”

Renjun’s lips parted. He didn’t seem to be able to summon up a quip or a barbed reply. His pupils flicked side to side as he scanned Jaemin’s face. Donghyuck held his breath, and he could practically sense Jeno doing the same beside him. A moment passed, then another.

Renjun’s shoulders slumped. Donghyuck caught his hand shifting as his grip on Jaemin’s hand tightened. He turned to look at Donghyuck.

“How can we help?”

Donghyuck had told them the extent of what he knew: that, one, finding a gate to hell seemed to be his best bet and, two, there was one extremely close to them and that, thirdly, Hellmouths could be opened with a spell. Finally, he revealed that, in his research, he’d figured out that Hellmouths were areas with a high affinity to supernatural energy due to being a weak point in the barrier between Hell and Earth.

“I know everything about the fucking things except where to find one. They’re supposed to be places where like… weird, unexplainable shit happens,” Donghyuck said, wracking his mind for what he’d found out in his hardly fruitful research.

He’d barely gotten through his explanation when Jeno’s eyes lit up, suddenly.

“Wait. Wait, I think I have an idea.”

Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at Jeno with expectation. Jeno’s hand twitched as he glanced to his side, to Jaemin.

“Hyuck’s had a lot of weird shit happen to him lately… we could make a list of them. We – ”

“ – We could track locations by the frequency of supernatural events – ” Jaemin gasped, before grinning widely. Jeno grinned back, just as wide.

“ – making a map and triangulating to find the most probable site of the gate,” Jeno continued where Jaemin left off.

Donghyuck dug in, trying to follow their conversation. Sometimes it felt like Jaemin and Jeno were on a whole different wavelength from the rest of them.

“This is why you’re gonna be making six figures as an engineer in four years , ” Jaemin hooted, his eyes bright.

Jeno’s eyes had narrowed to crescents, “Shut up. Your math geniusness is finally coming in clutch, though.”

“Geniusness… I’ve barely finished one semester of college-level calculus,” Jaemin responded, but he sounded pleased.

Donghyuck realized what Jaemin and Jeno were planning, and he felt like he ought to slap himself in the face. He felt like such an idiot. That sounded brilliant, that sounded easy . He wondered how much time he had wasted, not seeing the obvious solution to his problem. He could have found the Hellmouth days ago.

“An actual map would be helpful for that,” Renjun’s voice was quiet and thoughtful where Jaemin and Jeno were boisterous, triumphant, “Hyuck, do you have any pencils and paper that I could borrow? I’ll get started on that.”

“Yes, yes of course,” Donghyuck agreed instantly, breathless upon locating his voice.

He jumped up, and crossed the breadth of his dorm in an instant. He rifled through his desk for paper and a pen. His fingers hit a notepad, unused. His slid over, and hit a small cardboard box. From touch alone, he could tell it was the box of markers he hadn’t used since he’d summoned Mark. Donghyuck felt giddy with excitement, he felt featherlight as he reached for the markers.

“Will these work?” he called back to Renjun.

“Sure,” Renjun was already reaching out for them, “What do you say I draw in red? Seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

Donghyuck felt a smile lift his cheeks. It felt like the first time in awhile that he hadn’t only found his smile while reading one of Mark’s letters. He let his fingers slip by the purple marker to withdraw the red for Renjun.

As Donghyuck trawled his memories of the previous weeks for any inexplicable things, Renjun made markings on a rough map he’d made of the campus and surrounding area. Donghyuck meant to go chronologically, but his heart got the better of him.

“Mark first showed up outside the door to this dorm,” he said, prompting Renjun to check off by the rectangle meant to be their dorm building.

“And he kept showing up in my bed every night,” Donghyuck watched Renjun’s hand still over the paper, then quickly realized his words might have given Renjun pause, “Like… by magic. I think he was forced to or something by the curse? He didn’t mean to. It was magic.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks were flaming by the time he convinced himself to move on to the next instance. He talked about Mark’s difficulties teleporting with Donghyuck. He told them of the time Mark had vanished from the library only to bring him his jacket upon his return.

Renjun’s face was mostly serious as he worked but when Donghyuck mentioned Mark using magic to wreck part of the frat’s patio, Renjun’s mouth lilted up into a crooked smirk.

“Demon Mark’s already an improvement on human Mark,” he mused, as he drew in a little dumpy frat in the far corner of his map and added a tick by it.

Jaemin’s mouth was set line. At first Donghyuck thought it might have been because of the mention of the party, but then he spoke.

“I don’t know about these, Hyuck,” he looked up from Renjun’s map, “All of them seem like they were just happening because of you and where you were at the time.”

Jeno nodded, his face equally solemn.

“Jaemin’s right. Most of these don’t seem like they were any type of hellhole energy thing. These are just because Mark drawn to you or was helping you out.”

“Oh,” was all Donghyuck could say. Then, “Huh.”

Inexplicably, he felt like blushing. For the past few minutes, for no real reason, he’d solely been reliving some of his fondest memories of Mark aloud.

Donghyuck forced himself to reconsider his memories, to try and extract anything that was a weird occurrence that he hadn’t played a part in.

His eyes fell to the spellbook, still open in Jaemin’s lap.

“Oh,” Donghyuck breathed, his gaze still trained on the book, while he felt his friends’ eyes on him, “Oh my God.”

If Donghyuck gave it even the most cursory thought, he still didn’t know how or why an ancient, functional spellbook would end up in his university’s library. And then there was the other odd happenings in the same place, Donghyuck recalled. The lights all going out as the curse itself was lifted, the elevator ceasing though Jisung claimed he hadn’t done a thing to influence it.

Donghyuck’s heartbeat had started to quicken, a rapid drum in his chest urging on his thoughts, urging him to connect the dots.  

Jisung’s appearance in the library itself had also probably been a hint, Donghyuck thought, feeling awash with both anticipation and frustration with himself. It seemed so obvious, in retrospect.

“What is it, Hyuck?” Jeno asked, tentative.

“It’s in the library,” Donghyuck was already getting up, not wanting to waste another second, “The Hellmouth’s in the fucking library.”

Donghyuck reached for the leather jacket that was hung on his bedpost. He slipped it on. His friends were still frozen, still seated. They watched, unmoving, as he carefully gathered all of Mark’s letters into a pile. He placed them all on his mattress (the sheets had been stripped off in anticipation of the break earlier that morning), only keeping the one with Mark’s map of Hell in hand. Hopefully, he’d need it.

“Thanks, guys,” Donghyuck issued, breathless, his heart pounding away, scaring off his breath, “Seriously, it would have taken me ages to figure it out without your help.”

Donghyuck emptied out his backpack, letting stray sheets of paper and pens and erasers fall onto the carpet. He stalked towards his desk, and shoved the markers and the candles in. He rifled around in his drawers for a lighter, knowing one was there somewhere.

“Are those my candles – actually, nevermind –.” Renjun started.

“We’re coming with you to the Hellmouth, at least,” Jaemin asserted, jumping up.

“Yeah,” Jeno rose from the ground too.

Donghyuck paused in the midst of readying to leave, Mark’s jacket on his back, one backpack strap slung over his shoulder, and Mark’s map in his hands. He looked at each of his friends’ determined faces, his chest swelling with warmth and fondness and excitement all in turn.

His nerves ratcheted up every instant he thought of Hell, of what lay ahead for him, but Donghyuck had to smile.

“Alright. Let’s go. And, Jaemin, bring that book with you.”

The campus was deader than it had been even the week prior, during exams. Donghyuck walked lightly, a goal in mind, a plan ahead. He couldn’t help but feel that every step was bringing him closer to Mark. Or to Hell.

The setting sun did nothing to abate the chill in the air. As they crossed campus, the wind whipped up whorls of long-dead leaves on the empty sidewalks. Someone less stubborn than Donghyuck might have heard the whistles of wind and the rapidly darkening overhead sky and thought of them as ill omens, but Donghyuck wasn’t deterred.

He sent a fluttery, nerve wracked smile back to his friends before he pushed through the library’s doors.

“Where to from here?” Jeno asked, his eyes wide, reflecting the fluorescent lights hanging high above their heads.

“This is just a guess…” Donghyuck began, his gaze sliding past the few remaining students in the library to the elevators just beyond the check-out desk, “...but I feel like we should go down.”

Though his friends were already silent, a deeper hush seemed to fall over their small group. The library basement was infamous, even among freshmen. All it took was a few in each year making the mistake of going down to the library’s lowest floor, desperate for some quiet and somewhere to find relative isolation. Only a few needed to make the mistake, before the rumors spread like wildfire among the rest of them.

It was always cold, they said, even in the earliest months of the semester when the sun still beat down and turned the sidewalks hot enough to send visible heatwaves radiating in shimmers off the pavement. It was always dark, or so they’d heard. And it always smelled strange, off. Donghyuck had assumed the scent was mildew, or dust. He wasn’t entirely sure about that assumption anymore.

He’d always made an effort to study in the higher floors, and definitely never snuck naps anywhere near the basement. He’d never been eager to experience the stories about it firsthand. But the creepiness of the library’s basement was exactly what he was looking for, this time around.

Donghyuck set his shoulders and faced his friends.

“If you guys want to bail now or, like, at any point, it’ll be fine. This is really weird shit. I’ll understand, I promise.”
Jaemin’s grip shifted on the spellbook. He held it a bare amount from his chest, as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hug it tight or keep it at arm’s length.

“Hyuck, we want to help,” he said.

“Plus we should probably be there for you when this shit doesn’t work and you’re heartbroken,” Renjun muttered, loud enough to overhear in the noiseless library.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Donghyuck sighed. He couldn’t say much more. He wasn’t without doubt, either. But this was his best plan. His only plan, really. Donghyuck let that thought carry him as he turned and started for the elevators.

Donghyuck’s friends’ faces grew graver as they entered the elevator. Donghyuck reached out to press the button for the basement level. Donghyuck’s heart hammered away in his chest, beating a rhythm he couldn’t qualify – be it utter terror or total anticipation.

Mark, he thought, as his fingers curled in his pocket, tightening around Mark’s map, I’m on my way.

Donghyuck stepped out of the elevator, his friends following at his heels. He scrunched up his nose at the smell within the basement. It was weird, the other freshmen been right about that. But it didn’t smell old or damp. It smelled odd, there was a faint hint of a curl of something sharp and hot. It pricked at his nostrils, vaguely familiar. He rubbed at his nose, waiting to adjust to the scent.

He scanned the area, squinting to make out the shelves and lumpy excuses for couches that were scattered around. The hanging lights overhead buzzed loudly like insects, angry, insistent. The lighting was so old and yellowed that what little light could penetrate the dim air cast the basement in an amber glow.

“Twenty thousand dollars in tuition a year and they can’t use any of that to buy new lightbulbs?” Renjun spat.

He drew even with Donghyuck, and Donghyuck could see the fear in his widened eyes. His arms were crossed tight over his thin chest. Donghyuck himself felt like shivering. He wasn’t exactly cold, not with Mark’s jacket. But the whole area felt off. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

Jaemin walked up to Renjun’s other side, and wrapped his arm around Renjun’s shoulders, rubbing them to heat him up. Donghyuck blinked, as Renjun did nothing to shrug Jaemin or to deter him.

Jeno came up on Donghyuck’s other side, “So now we just have to find the Hell door thing?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck exhaled, tearing his gaze from Jaemin and Renjun, “Hellmouth, but yeah. We should split up so we can cover more ground. Look for anything… unnatural. Symbols that don’t make sense in a library, Latin words like daemones and infernos. Stuff like that.”

“So, spooky shit?” Jeno summarized nicely. He smiled at Donghyuck, though Donghyuck knew he was probably just as nervous as Donghyuck felt.

Donghyuck smiled, gratitude swelling up once more, “Yeah. Spooky shit.”

Renjun and Jaemin peeled off to the right while Jeno went left. Donghyuck had an inkling that the wide open area that was visible just beyond the initial low shelves in front of the elevator would be a decent place to search for signs. He shouldered his bag and marched directly ahead.

He had to use his phone’s flashlight to see clearly, picking through the shelves that were painted in peeling white paint, yellowed with age. He shone the small beam of light through them, over book titles and in the dark gaps of long fallen over books. His phone’s flashlight illuminated motes of dust lingering in the air, setting them alight like microscopic fireflies drifting aimlessly through the dim air.

Donghyuck found nothing, at first. But that was alright, Donghyuck reminded himself. Things didn’t have to be easy to be worth it. He held his breath as he passed beyond the low shelves and entered the center study area. There were a few dismal looking couches, deflated looking, probably formerly the bright red of their university’s colors but long faded to a dusty, washed-out pink.

The shag rug beneath them was in an even worse state. It had been black probably, in a former life. It had been faded to gray, as far as Donghyuck could tell from the faintly flickering amber hued light above it. Donghyuck wasn’t even exactly sure what he was looking for, but he was fairly sure he wasn’t finding anything of note.

Doubt started to seep into him, trickling in amongst the excitement and fear, quelling his racing heart. Donghyuck closed his eyes, and rubbed at them. He told himself to get a grip, to be sure of himself and his plan for once. He opened his eyes, resolved to look harder.

The light flickered, seeming to go dark for a longer stretch of time than usual. Donghyuck’s gaze was drawn up. He squinted, looking up and down. The light was hung directly above the black rug. That in itself wasn’t so significant, Donghyuck supposed. But he traced the lines of the ceiling with his eyes, tracking each light fixture, all the way out to the darkest corners of the basement.

The one atop of the rug was in the exact middle of the basement.

Donghyuck eyed the stupid shag carpet more intently. He started to walk around it, not yet stepping on it, searching for anything that might have looked out of place. His mind was half occupied with the thought that maybe he’d concluded wrong, and the Hellmouth wasn’t in the library after all. The other half kept singing, trilling that he was so, so close, closer than ever.

Donghyuck’s breath caught as an idea occurred to him. He slung off his backpack, dropping it carefully down so as to protect the glass jars of candles within it. He stalked to the edge of the rug, and bent down to pick up a corner, angling his face away when the movement sent off a fresh wave of dust.

“...What are you doing?” came Jeno’s voice, from nearby.

Donghyuck looked up, the edge of the rug in hand. Jeno was standing in between two shelves, frozen in place right before the shelving area ended and the sparsely furnished center study area began. Distantly, Donghyuck noted those far shelves were painted white as well. He wondered at that. None of the library’s other floors had white shelves.

“This is going to sound stupid,” Donghyuck said, after a moment. He wondered how long he’d be stuck in the position he was in, whether he could just continue on or if Jeno needed more of an explanation.

Jeno blinked, but otherwise his expression remained unaltered – just unsure. Donghyuck surmised that he was getting used to stupid ideas from Donghyuck by now.

“Uh,” Donghyuck shifted his grip to a more comfortable position, “I wanna check under the rug?”

A beat. Jeno blinked, again.

“Oh. Okay,” Jeno said, eventually. Donghyuck’s arm muscles were starting to tire from holding his position.

“Need help moving it?” Jeno offered, and Donghyuck could have laughed in surprise. Instead, he nodded.

Together, he and Jeno rolled the grimy black carpet up, and pushed it off to the side. Donghyuck and he stood, side by side, both inspecting the uncovered floor. It was cement flooring, unlike the tile of the ground floor, and the carpeting of the library’s higher floors. The area that had been covered by the shag rug was darker gray than the surrounding cement.

It was split, Donghyuck noted, trying and failing not to read too much into that. There was one long crack running the length of it. The crack was long enough that the shag carpet had only just barely covered it, and thin, about the width of a pencil.

Donghyuck crouched. He reached out, and ran his finger down a portion of the cracked area in the cement.

“Huh,” he intoned, his mind already reeling.

A crack right beneath the rug, right in the middle of the basement of the building the Hellmouth was supposed to be in. It could’ve been a coincidence, but Donghyuck was starting to believe less and less in that sort of thing.

He felt Jeno shift beside him.

“This place is so fucking creepy,” Jeno said, in an undertone. Donghyuck smiled, crooked, because Jeno was right. Everything was eerie, off. And it made him feel like they were on the right track.

He pushed himself up and off the ground, standing once more.

“You can still leave at any time,” Donghyuck tossed over his shoulder. Then, he walked onto the darkened cement, and started to walk along the length of the crack.

“Whoa. What’s happening here?” he heard Jaemin say.

He didn’t look up, still inspecting the split in the cement for any apparent strangeness. Once he’d reached the middle of it, the point where it was broadest, he crouched again.

“Hyuck found a crack under that rug and he’s really psyched about it,” Jeno responded. Donghyuck’s smile grew more secure. He glanced up at his friends. All of them, Jaemin, Renjun and Jeno, had gathered nearer to the white shelves than to him and the center of the basement. Almost as if they were afraid to approach the spot.

Donghyuck looked back down. He laid out his palm and lowered it, slowly, carefully. He wasn’t sure the crack was anything, but he knew better than to just assume his safety was a given around strange things.

“Oh. Good for him,” Jaemin’s confused reply came.

Donghyuck felt a faint coolness against his palm, a sensation almost like a tickle, colder than the surrounding basement air. He froze, his heart stopping. He wondered if he’d just imagined the feeling. But, no. He felt it again. It was subtle but it was there, just the slightest breeze of chilled air against his palm, right where his hand lay hovering overtop the split in the ground.

“Guys,” Donghyuck hissed. He looked up at his friends, his smile broadening to a grin, “Guys, come feel this.”

It took some convincing but eventually Jaemin, Jeno, and Renjun joined him. They confirmed that they, too, felt the slight push of wind, the cold breeze against their hands.

“This shit’s literally so fucking bizarre,” Renjun waved his hand over the crack. He had a frustrated look on his face.

“Do you think there’s another floor beneath this one or something?” Jaemin asked, tentative, “Somewhere off limits to students?”

Donghyuck shook his head, his smile fixed on his face by then.

“It’s either that or Hell,” he answered, bright.

Jeno was the only one of them who laughed in response, and even then it was quickly stifled in the chilled air. The rich, sharp aroma that hung in the basement only got stronger as Donghyuck leaned in to peer closer at the crack.

“Oh, I don’t like that. I don’t like that one bit,” Jeno said, his voice as firm as Donghyuck had heard it since they stepped foot off the elevator into the basement. Donghyuck looked up at Jeno, curious.

Jeno was staring at something on the ground by his hand. It was hard to tell with the lighting, but his face looked pallid, drained of blood.

“What –?” Before Jaemin could finish even one word of his question, Jeno started to answer.

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. What kind of weirdo graffitis that under a rug in a library basement? Enter where?”

Donghyuck barely caught the words after Jeno’s first sentence. His heart had started beating faster once more, picking up pace. He’d read those words many times over, in a library book he’d checked out just days ago.

“Sounds like a line from a pirate movie,” Renjun commented. His voice was strangled, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“It’s not,” Donghyuck breathed. He stood up in one swift move. His friends’ heads all swivelled towards him, “It’s… it’s not. It’s from Dante. Guys, get up. I think we should perform the incantation here,” Donghyuck started to smile. He felt light headed as he said, “I think this might be it.”

Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin exchanged apprehensive glances with each other. Impatient to get started and to test his theory, Donghyuck rocked back and forth on his feet, from his heels to his toes.

Renjun looked to Donghyuck first. When he spoke, it sounded as though it was taking everything within him to get the words out.

“Alright. How does one... do an incantation?”

Donghyuck couldn’t contain himself. He broke out into a wide grin.

“Oh. This part’s easy,” he confided, before turning towards his backpack to fetch his materials, “Don’t worry, I’ve done it before.”

Once Donghyuck finished explaining the setup, Renjun had sighed and taken the candles from his grasp.

“If we’re going to be using my fifteen dollar scented candles for a Satanic ritual, I’m going to be the one in charge of them,” he said, resigned.

“Oh my God,” Jaemin whispered, as he picked through the markers, “You’re telling me you used washable markers to summon a demon?”

“Yup,” Donghyuck answered, not lifting his eyes from the Hell-invoking spell in the spellbook.

He mouthed the words over and over. It was longer than the spell he’d used to summon Mark. And he really didn’t want to get anything wrong this time. He’d learned a few things, at least.

“Do you think the color we use matters?” Jeno also spoke in a hushed tone.

“No, you lovable idiot,” Jaemin returned. Then, a second later, “Wait, Hyuck, does it matter?”

Donghyuck frowned. He looked up from the spellbook and offered a half shrug, “I don’t think so?” he ventured.

“You’re all idiots,” Renjun called from across the study area, where he was already working on his candle positioning.

“Lovable too, though, right?” Jaemin grinned. It looked as though he’d finally settled on a green marker. Donghyuck surged forward to snap up the purple before Jeno could.

“I – yeah. Whatever, sure,” Renjun’s voice was considerably weaker.

Donghyuck glanced at Jeno, ready to roll his eyes at Renjun and Jaemin. But Jeno didn’t look as though he wanted to commiserate. He was smiling at Renjun and Jaemin, fond. Donghyuck raised his eyebrows, but he left it at that.

Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Jeno stood side by side, eyeing the study area. They had pushed the couches and the rolled up rug off to the side, leaving the crack completely bare in the center. The light hanging above it  continued to flicker.

“I think we should go really big with this pentagram,” Donghyuck thought aloud. He cocked his head, “Like, big enough to cover the crack.”

Jeno and Jaemin hummed and ahh’ed in understanding.

“Ah… So that an area is created where the circumference exceeds the extent of the split?” Jaemin said, distantly.

Donghyuck let out an imperceptible sigh. He was still full to the brim with gratitude from his friends, and he knew they were just trying to process all this new information the best they could.

“Yeah. Big star,” he reiterated.

“Awesome,” Jaemin exhaled.

They spread out across the study area, and each started the task of etching in lines that spanned the length of the crack. Once they’d finished, their star would probably be big enough that it wouldn’t fit in Donghyuck’s dorm room.

Donghyuck’s heartbeat was thrumming with anticipation as he finished drawing his second line. It was bisected by the crack, though Donghyuck had tried not to lift his marker as he’d drawn over it.

He exhaled, then rose. He backed up and, taking care to avoid any of the marker lines, he went all the way to the shelves at the perimeter of the basement’s center area. He admired their handiwork, the multicolored pentagram in the place of where the black carpet had been, its inner lines splitting the crack in parts but big enough to cover it whole.

Jaemin and Jeno walked over once they added the finishing touches to their lines. Soon enough, Renjun finished lighting the last candle, before meticulously adjusting its positioning as he had all the others. The sharp, rich scent wafting from the crack intermingled with the smell of the scented candles.

Donghyuck darted over to fetch the spellbook, then rejoined his friends. They seemed nervous, backed up nearly into the shelving. Donghyuck offered them a tentative grin. He wasn’t sure how it came off, given the excitement and fear warring within him.

“Not to beat a dead horse or anything,” he intoned, “But, really, you guys can leave if you’re scared or uncomfortable with any of this.”

“Shut up, Hyuck,” Renjun grumbled, before crossing his arms. Jaemin turned to look at Renjun, then turned back to Donghyuck. He nodded.

“We’re staying,” Jeno added. His mouth was twisted but his brows were drawn low, determined. Donghyuck’s weak smile broadened to a grin. He nodded back at his friends, then spun to face the pentagram.

He eyed the flickering candlelights beneath the flickering amber hued light.

Then he looked down and, barely able to catch his breath properly out of anticipation, he started to read the incantation aloud.

As he read he kept his mind clear and his thoughts focused. Opening a Hellmouth wasn’t like summoning a demon, it seemed. He couldn’t inadvertently curse someone. But Donghyuck figured he couldn’t be too careful, so he minded his thoughts.

“Conjuro potentiae Lucifer,” Donghyuck read. A quiet whisper of a sound reached his ears, enough to give him pause for a moment. The light overhead flickered.

“Patefacio a porta ad inferos,” Donghyuck continued. The quiet whisper grew louder, ratcheting up in volume with every word that passed Donghyuck’s lips. It sounded almost like wind, whistling.

“Et tua deamones transire.”

Howling. Donghyuck realized he recognized the sound. He had only the memory of Mark’s disappearance associated with it. It was enough to make him falter as he spoke, to make it difficult to summon the rest of the words. His voice gave out before he could get out the last line of the incantation, as the light flickered more frequently, the dark periods outlasting the ones where it remained alight.

Donghyuck swallowed past the sudden ill feeling that twisted his innards and left him wanting to curl up in silence. That was the past. That was over. Mark was gone, but Donghyuck was going to get him back.

He cleared his throat and read the last line, his voice wavering throughout.

“Sic urantar mundi.”

The last syllable had barely escaped Donghyuck’s lips when every light in the basement extinguished in an instant. Renjun yelped at his back. Jaemin’s sharp gasp echoed. He heard clothes rustling as Jeno shivered.

The howling persisted, filling Donghyuck’s ears. And then, a low rumbling, like the pounding of hundreds of feet on pavement. A groaning, so deep and so low Donghyuck felt it reverberate through him, sending his already racing heart haywire.

Then, finally, a cracking sound. It was like the sound of trees cleaving apart, like massive felled trees falling in a forest. Cracking, hushed at first, then louder, deafening. The racket was coming from the front of them, from the split in the ground.

Donghyuck took a step back, as the floor started to shake beneath the soles of his boots. In the darkness, the lights of the candles shook with the quaking floor. Their miniscule flames shimmied as the ground vibrated, dancing back and forth with fervor.

“What the fuck,” he heard Jaemin whisper.

The ground shook more intensely, somehow. By then the shifting, groaning sounds drowned out the howling. Donghyuck felt a gust of cold air batter him, cold air, fresher than that of that of the basement’s, with a rich, deeply scented aroma.

Donghyuck took another step back, and backed right into Jeno, stepping on his toes.

“Sorry,” he issued, breathless, right at the moment when the entire room fell into a hush. His whispered apology outlasted the howling, the groaning, the crackling.

One by one, the overhead lights started to blink on once again. The ground was solid as anything beneath Donghyuck’s feet, as if it had never shaken at all.

The lights came on and Donghyuck gasped, involuntarily.

In the middle of the study area, there was a wide gash in the ground, as long as the crack had been but broader. It had to have been as broad as Donghyuck’s dorm bed at its widest point. It wasn’t exactly straight. In fact, it looked almost like a wicked grin, curled slightly at its corners.

Instead of teeth within it, though, there was complete and utter darkness. A void. Cold air rushed up from it, permeating the basement’s stale air. Donghyuck thought he was hearing things at first, but as he strained his ears at the slight noise only grew clearer. It sounded like a whispering, almost. Or, more accurately, a thousand whispers at once. Voices coming from the gaping maw of Hell.

“Holy fuck,” Donghyuck exhaled. He chanced one last glance at the open Hellmouth, before turning back to face his friends.

He felt a grin spread across his cheeks as he looked on their stunned faces.

“Guys, we did it! We opened Hell!”

Chapter Text

Donghyuck paced around the perimeter of the Hellmouth, walking as close as he dared to its edges. He was close enough that the chill sunk deep into his skin, threatening to make his teeth chatter. He could feel his friends’ eyes on him as he paused and dropped to his knees.

One of them hissed, the sound of it sharp. The whispered voices continued to spill out from the Hellmouth, a low undertone that Donghyuck had to strain his ears to differentiate from the whooshing of the basement’s air conditioning or the faint howling of wind gales from Hell.

Donghyuck dangled his fingers over the gaping split in the library basement. Half of him was screaming, yelling, saying not to lower his hand any further deeper into the black void with its whispered, hushed voices. The other half of him was saying the opposite.

Donghyuck’s curiosity far outweighed his caution, though. He listened to the other voice. Donghyuck lowered his hand.

“Hyuck – ,” Renjun started.

“ – Maybe don’t do that?” Jaemin cut in.

Donghyuck paused. He glanced up, a corner of his mouth tugging down into a frown.

Then, he had to freeze. Donghyuck sucked in his lower lip, looking around at all his friends, taking in their varying states of terror as they looked beyond him to the Hellmouth. Whatever fear he was feeling, he thought, there was no way it compared to the shock and fear they had to be going through.

Donghyuck’s gaze flicked down. In a split second, he made a decision. He looked back up, schooling his features to not let any of his nerves show on his face.

“Hell’s not that scary, guys,” Donghyuck chirped.

His ploy didn’t work quite as well as he’d hoped. Renjun’s eyes were suspiciously shiny as he raised his hand slowly to cover his mouth. Jaemin looked as though he was trying hard not to voice just how wrong he thought Donghyuck was. Jeno was pale, his face drained of color, looking sickly in the dim basement lights.

Donghyuck exhaled. He caught movement in the lowest edges of his vision – his hand had started to shake. His fingers, bare inches over the blackness within the Hellmouth, were starting to tremble. One last time, he thought. One last half-truth, to make it easier to say goodbye.

“I’m not worried,” Donghyuck said, letting his excitement outshine his apprehension, letting a grin overtake his face, “So don’t be worried for me, okay?”

Jeno’s mouth opened, presumably to respond. Donghyuck couldn’t take it, though. He couldn’t take being told to be cautious, to wait. He felt tensed, coiled tight with adrenaline. He reached down, past the edges of the Hellmouth, into the void.

His fingers breached the unnatural darkness, thick and obscure like black fog. He drew his fingers through it and – nothing. He heard his friends gasp. But the only change was that he felt the coldness from within the Hellmouth a touch more distinctly. The voices sounded the same. He felt nothing gripping at him, clawing at him, as a small part of him had feared he’d feel. Nothing.

Donghyuck turned his smile back to his friends.

“See? Nothing to be worried about.”

“It’s Hell , Hyuck,” Jeno muttered. His gaze had fallen. With wide eyes, he watched the point where Donghyuck’s hand disappeared into the Hellmouth, cut off at the wrist.

“I know,” Donghyuck resounded. It sounded more exhausted than he’d meant it to come out. He shook his head, pasted back on a smile, “I haven’t forgotten. I trust Mark, though. He cares enough for me that he wouldn’t let me come to Hell if he thought it wasn’t safe.”

With that thought voiced, Donghyuck withdrew his hand from the Hellmouth and stood up. He stalked over to his backpack, tugged it open, and started packing up his makeshift magic supplies.

As Donghyuck was filing the markers up neatly in their box, Renjun spoke again.

“You’re really going then, huh?”

Donghyuck had to bark out a laugh, short.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. He tossed the markers into his backpack. He started walking back to the spellbook, still by his friends at the perimeter of the area surrounding the Hellmouth.

“There’s nothing we can say to make you think twice about this?” Renjun continued, his voice muffled.

Donghyuck added the spellbook to his backpack, then righted himself. He was caught off guard by the openness in Renjun’s voice. It was so rare from him. Donghyuck had to take a moment.

“I… no,” Donghyuck conceded, “I’ve kinda got my heart set on getting down there.”

Donghyuck thought of what might be waiting for him within the Hellmouth. Whether it’d be a frozen wasteland like the frigid air made him fear it might be, or a dangerous swamp of a place filled to the brim with ghoulish souls, like the picture in the spellbook. Or, whether it was just like Mark’s description of it. A city where the sun never rose, and the souls lived just as they did on Earth.

He had no way of knowing for sure, but he’d trust in Mark. What else could he do?

Donghyuck smiled, small.

“You’re acting like I’m not gonna be coming back in a few days,” Donghyuck kept his tone light, despite the fact that he had no definite idea for what the future held for him, or for Mark, or for him and Mark together.

Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin said nothing to Donghyuck’s comment. His smile was growing harder to maintain.

“A little faith, please?” he issued then, abruptly, “Shit. ”

“What?” Jaemin asked, his mouth twisting.

“Nothing,” Donghyuck muttered. He drew out his phone, and pulled up his contacts, “Just need to tell my parents I’ll probably be coming home a little later than they thought.”

“Oh geez,” Jeno’s eyes widened, “How’re you going to explain this to them?”

Donghyuck hushed him, not unkindly, as he clicked his mother’s name and waited for her to pick up the phone.

Donghyuck was able to barter himself a couple weeks by claiming he had to visit a friend he may not get the opportunity to see again for awhile. His mother was disappointed, but she said that as long as Donghyuck had worked hard on his finals, and as long as he thought his grades would end up well, she and his father wouldn’t have much to complain about. He had until Christmas Eve, she said.

“Do you think you got all As, sweetie?” she asked, as soon as Donghyuck had updated her on the change of plans. Donghyuck was already getting antsy, staring at the void, listening to the swirling, whispery voices, starting to shiver from chills.

“I don’t want you thinking that medical schools don’t care about your grades from freshman year. Remember that your GPA this first semester is very important. It’s the foundation for the rest of your college years.”

Donghyuck squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t recall how many times he’d heard that from her before. He let out a sigh, too minute for her to possibly hear. He wished he cared about it as much as she did, but at least he had something to offer her. A benefit of his own attempts at distracting himself from Mark vanishing.

“I’m… actually pretty confident in my exam grades,” Donghyuck assured her. He opened his eyes and exchanged a tired grin with his friends, “I studied harder this year than I ever have before, probably.”

“Oh!” his mother trilled into his ear, “That’s great! And you think that will show in your final grades?”

“Uh,” Donghyuck was starting to fidget. He turned around to glance at the Hellmouth, “Yeah, I mean –.”

His mother laughed. Donghyuck could sense the way her mood had brightened, just at the news of his apparent newfound determination in school. Donghyuck almost felt bad. But it wasn’t as if he could say the truth, that he hadn’t magically found a desire to work hard to become the doctor she so wanted him to be. He’d just needed a way to distract himself from his demon boyfriend’s disappearing act.

As she began talking about Donghyuck’s younger sisters, Donghyuck shifted his grip on the phone and started towards the candles. Making sure to pay half a mind to the conversation, he unzipped the backpack and gathered the candles by it, prodding at their wax to make sure it had solidified enough that the trip wouldn’t end up coating the inside of his backpack in hot wax.

He’d need to keep the magic equipment in a good state, if he wanted to have a chance of using them again.

After the phonecall was finished and Donghyuck had made his mother perhaps a touch suspicious with his impulsive ‘Just by the way – I love you, mom’ at the conclusion of the call, Donghyuck decided he was as ready as he’d ever be.

Donghyuck didn’t know if his heartbeat would ever slow at that point. He was kneeling in front of the Hellmouth. He’d already dipped his hand in, so he knew the darkness was safe to the touch. But he couldn’t quite figure how he was meant to enter it. There weren’t any stairs as far as he could tell, nor any ladders.

Donghyuck even stuck his hand in and grasped blindly around the edges of the seam, looking for purchase, maybe even just a rope to grab onto, anything. There was nothing, just cold darkness filled with whispered voices.

Maybe, Donghyuck thought, he was meant to jump.

Donghyuck’s breath caught on his next inhale, though he tried to take slow breaths. He stared at the black void and wondered what lay within. If he jumped, how far would he have to fall before he landed? Did he mess up the spell somehow?

He was closer than ever, close enough that the wind that wafted out of the Hellmouth smelled of Mark. He could place it now. It was like Mark– that rich, sharp, caustic scent of a match burning. It was colder than Mark, though, more metallic. It wasn’t right.

If Donghyuck wanted the real thing, he’d have to enter the Hellmouth sooner or later.

His mind had been made up from the start, he realized. There hadn’t been a question of whether he’d follow through, not since long before he’d even successfully opened the Hellmouth. There was no use prolonging the inevitable.

“I have to jump,” Donghyuck said, low, too quiet for his friends to hear. Then, louder, stronger, “I’m going to jump.”

They were still standing there watching, their eyes trained on him, their gazes filled with both horror and intrigue. Donghyuck got it. He could hardly even imagine how it felt to watch your friend decide to just jump into Hell.

Donghyuck held his breath, and untucked his legs. He wondered vaguely at his friends’ lack of reaction as he dropped one foot into the Hellmouth, then the other. It was cold, but not too bad. It was definitely colder than the average winter day, Donghyuck thought.

The thought was cut off.

“He’s going to go no matter what,” Renjun’s whisper joined the hushed tones from within the Hellhole. Donghyuck let his eyes slide shut. He understood their fear, of course. But he had excitement goading him along, anticipation. He had hope, too.  

“Yeah, I think so,” Jaemin’s whispered reply came. Then, spoken louder, “Anything you want to tell us before you jump? Any messages we can bring back to your parents if you… like –.”

Donghyuck’s head snapped up.

“I’m coming back,” he said, voice firm, determined.

His hope was a fire burning warm in the pit of his stomach, injecting his voice with a fiery determination that seemed to set his friends aback. Jaemin blinked, his eyes wide and shining in the dim amber light.

Donghyuck didn’t know what the future held. He didn’t know if he’d be able to figure out a way to bring Mark back with him or not. But he had to believe that jumping wasn’t going to be an end. It was just another step closer.

“Okay,” Jeno’s soft voice rang clear, cutting through the incessant sound of wind whirling and Donghyuck’s heartbeat, pounding in his ears, “Okay. We’ll see you again soon, then. Goodbye, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck’s heart clenched, as he heard echoes of another goodbye that had lasted far longer than he’d hoped it would. He forced himself to stay in the present, to not be drawn back down another path. He pressed his lips together and nodded. His toes were starting to go numb, his feet still dangling in the Hellmouth.

“Bye, Hyuck,” Jaemin was the first one of them to attempt a grin, “Try not to have too much fun down there, ‘kay?”

Donghyuck laughed, and if it came out a little uneven, no one gave any sign they noticed.

Renjun had reached for Jaemin’s hand again, but that was the only sign of anxiety he showed.

He offered a small smile as he said, “Good luck. Say hi to Mark for us.”

Donghyuck swallowed past the sudden, inexplicable lump in his throat. He nodded, and smiled back.

“Alright. I will.”

Donghyuck forced his eyes back down. He looked into the black void that lay within the Hellmouth. Twin forces within him threatened to tear his will apart. He wanted to jump. He wanted to stay safe.

But, in the end he wanted to see Mark most of all. Mark won out. He always would.

Donghyuck focused on the warm feeling in his stomach. It felt as though it was tugging him down. He let his heart race unbidden, because it would race no matter what. He glanced up at his friends one last time.

“Bye, guys. Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin… thanks for your help. I’ll text you first thing when I get back. Promise.”

That was a promise Donghyuck intended to keep.

He watched their nods. Then looked down. He ran his thumbs along the straps of his backpack, checking it was properly on.

Without delaying another moment, Donghyuck pushed off the edge, and jumped.

The moment Donghyuck’s head dipped below the edge of the Hellmouth, his world exploded into light and color.

Donghyuck barely had time to squint against the bright red lights searing his eyes before he felt a sensation forcibly changing his momentum. A twisting, unsettling feeling like his stomach being left behind. It wasn’t unlike when he’d been in the elevator and it had ground to a sudden halt.

Donghyuck’s vision was awash with light. He was slowing as he fell, ceasing mid-air. Donghyuck let out a yell in his shock, in his completely disorientation, as he started to move again. This time, in the opposite direction. He was changing course, falling up. Or was it down?

A solid, dark surface rushed up at Donghyuck’s face and he barely had time to put his hands out before they made contact. Donghyuck hit the ground lightly. He’d hardly been falling upward (or was it downward?) for long. His palms grappled on dark pavement and then all was still in a moment.

Chest heaving, trying to catch his breath, Donghyuck slung his backpack off and rolled over. He stared up, dazed and disoriented, wondering what the fuck had just happened. As he stared up, he didn’t see the ceiling of the library basement. He didn’t see an amber light swinging overhead.

Donghyuck saw the sides of buildings, jutting out into a night sky, black as ink. A sky with stars dotting it, shining bright against the black. Donghyuck was still struggling to breathe evenly. He lacked orientation or the faintest clue. He stood up on shaky legs, his eyes snagged on the starry sky overhead.

Donghyuck lowered his gaze, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He’d landed in what looked like an alley , oddly. The pavement beneath his feet was shining wet, as though a rainstorm has just came and went. The ambient neon crimson lights reflected off the wet pavement like splotches of smeared watercolor. Donghyuck looked up.

The alleyway was closed in on either side by tall buildings in dark brick of a color Donghyuck couldn’t identify. The buildings were slick with rainfall too, shining, reflective. Donghyuck wondered at the lights. They were all scarlet and orange, emanating from lamps hung over side doors, or from neon signs from beyond the mouth of the alleyway.

Donghyuck’s breath caught. His heart stopped. There were figures passing, not too far from where he stood in the middle of the alley. A lot of them. As he watched, frozen and fearing, a figure in a long coat threw his head back and tossed out a short punctuated sentence. The others around him laughed. One with a spindly frame returned another short phrase and sent the group into another bout of uproarious laughter. It was hard to make out what they were saying, and it grew harder, as they continued walking on past the alley, past Donghyuck.

Donghyuck untensed. He shook his head at himself, finally able to breathe and move now that the most immediate threat was over. There were more people in the street beyond the alley. Their faces were just barely discernible at a distance and with the red lights the only source of light in the night. The streets of Hell looked no different from a crowded club district at night, filled with people dressed dissonantly, in clothes that didn’t make sense.

“What the –,” Donghyuck exhaled. He cut himself off. He looked down at the place he’d landed, looking for an answer.

He was pretty sure he’d found one. Underneath his boot was a crack, virtually identical to the one that had been under the rug in the library, save for its presence in an alleyway. Donghyuck staggered back from it, putting some distance between himself and the Hellmouth even though it appeared to be closed.

He looked up once more, at the night sky. He shivered, as a fresh wave of chilled air battered him, blowing through the alley. Voices from the street beyond continued to creep in, as Hell’s denizens laughed and joked, and conversed in heated tones.

All around Donghyuck, a city carried on. A city at night, lit by red light.

“Hell,” Donghyuck whispered.

At least, he was pretty sure. He’d jumped through a Hellmouth, flipped over mid-air, and landed square in a dark alleyway in an unknown city. He hoped he was in Hell.

Donghyuck pushed his hand through his hair. He laughed. He had to laugh. At himself, at what he’d just done, at the absurdity of the whole situation, and at the sheer relief that he felt following the utter confusion and terror from moments before.

He’d made it.

Donghyuck couldn’t help it. He hopped from foot to foot, a concession to the triumphant dance he wanted to do. His breath rose up from his lips in curling puffs of clouds. The cold air bit at his exposed wrists and his cheeks and the tips of his ears. But Donghyuck was here. He inhaled and filled his lungs with the sharp scent of Hell, stronger now than ever.

Now that he was he here, he realized how it was different from how Mark had smelled. Sure it was colder, where Mark was warm. But there was another layer. The smell of a rainstorm, just passed. The metallic smell of air right before lightning struck.

Another bout of laughter from the street beyond the alley filled the air. Donghyuck bit his lip. He was finding it hard to be scared, though he knew he ought to be.

He kneeled down by the crack in the alleyway and ran his finger along it, inspecting it. He felt a brief dip of fear at the possibility of being stuck in Hell, but he wouldn’t let it affect him too much.

Donghyuck stood and started for his backpack, discarded from when he’d first landed. He opened just to check and he had to smile in relief. The candles were all still intact. The spellbook looked no worse for the wear. Donghyuck’s palms were scraped and burned, and his hip ached a little when he moved too quickly, but everything else seemed to have survived the landing.

Donghyuck drew out his phone and wasn’t surprised to see he had no signal. He wouldn’t be able to contact anyone from up above, at least not using his phone. But he wouldn’t be alone. At least, not for long.

He extracted Mark’s map and a marker with it, for good measure. He didn’t want to forget the site of the Hellmouth, just in case he needed to find it again. Hopefully, he thought, if he kept his backpack and the makeshift magic materials on hand, he could use them again to reopen Hell from this side.

Donghyuck froze, already readying to walk out to the mouth of the alleyway. He was really in Hell. Really. His eyes slid to the people crossing by just in front of him, their faces shining red and orange, reflecting the fiery hued lights that lined the streets.

He felt a spike of anxiety. Mark had said the people in Hell wouldn’t bother him, he reminded himself. Well. He’d said probably . Donghyuck was willing to risk it, though. He’d come this far. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the richly scented air, and walked out from the alleyway.

“Sir?”

Donghyuck stopped the first figure he happened upon, a man in an oversized suit, the proportions all a bit off. His hair was slicked back, greasy almost, reflecting the neon signs that seemed to be present in the windows of almost every building on the street.

“Sir?” the guy repeated, his voice amused. He had an accent, a little older, a little like the TV shows that Donghyuck’s mom swore were classics. Donghyuck dubbed him Mafia Man, internally. He looked just like one of those guys.

Donghyuck nodded, “Yeah. Sir. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

The Mafia Man laughed when Donghyuck asked if they were in Hell. He’d responded anyways, though, telling Donghyuck that they definitely weren’t in the Other Place. From the way he pointed up, there was no mistaking his meaning.

Donghyuck exhaled. The confirmation only made him more excited. He asked where they were in Hell, noting it down on Mark’s map when the man answered, his face showing growing amusement. Donghyuck felt feverish, almost. His cheeks were burning despite the frigid air surrounding him as he asked his next question.

“A couple more things… do you know where we are in Hell? And do you know where I can find a bar called The Maw?”

With help from the Mafia Man and Mark’s map, Donghyuck was able to figure out where the Hellmouth was situated in Hell. He sketched out a line, curled like a grinning mouth, on the map and labelled it ‘way back home’.

He thanked the Mafia Man profusely, and hurried on his way, map in hand. The Maw was close by, the man had said. He’d pointed in the direction, and Donghyuck had nearly bolted from then.

As Donghyuck walked, he stopped periodically, asking other people for directions. The streets were crowded with them. It was a strange sight, given that it looked like night, but everyone was out. Many were walking with groups, conversing, laughing. Donghyuck slipped in and out, asking if The Maw was nearby.

Mark was right. Most of of the people knew of it. Some laughed when he asked. Some looked at him a beat too long, too curious, and Donghyuck was quick on his way from those.

He got a better glimpse of Hell as he wove through the souls of Hell. At his back, in the opposite direction of where The Maw was meant to be, the buildings climbed high in the distance. They reached the height of skyscrapers, their tallest points seeming to touch the stars above. Donghyuck had to wonder about those. The stars. For some reason, he wouldn’t have thought there would be stars in Hell.

Donghyuck wondered why Mark had never mentioned them before when he spoke of how dark Hell was, of how much he missed the sun. He wondered why Mark would miss the sun when he had an endless sky full of stars.

He shook his head at his own thoughts. His mind was wandering as his feet neared The Maw, as the crowds petered out. The neon lights grew sparser and sparser and the surrounding buildings grew shorter and older and more decrepit.

He supposed that even Hell had bad neighborhoods. It was easier to think of Hell’s neighborhoods than of the demon waiting for him at the end of the journey.

Donghyuck felt like skipping. He also felt like dragging his feet. He wasn’t ready but, at the same time, he’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. His heart was beating as if it wanted to break out of his chest. His hands were trembling. Mark’s map shook in his grip as he raised it to reference it again.

Donghyuck looked up, his heart skipping a beat. He glanced back down, then back up. As he watched, a group of people passed in front of a giant neon tiger’s face just at the end of the block, their silhouettes crossing it, making it almost appear as if it were flickering. The group of people walked on, leaving the tiger’s face exposed. It felt as if its eyes – so bright red they looked almost white – were on Donghyuck.

His feet carried him forward.

Donghyuck had to pause when he reached The Maw. He walked up the steps, peeking in the windows. It looked as though it was barely lit, its lights low and red and violet hued. He couldn’t see anyone inside, not in his brief glimpses within. He wasn’t sure if that meant it was closed or simply that unpopular.

As he slipped off his backpack and placed the map in it, Donghyuck made the decision that if it was closed, and if Mark wasn’t there yet, he’d just wait. He’d waited this long. It would probably only be a few hours more. He thought that a few hours were nothing, really, not compared to what they’d just gone through. Donghyuck reshouldered one strap of his backpack.

He froze as he stood there, his hand outstretched, inches from the door handle. He only just realized he didn’t have anything prepared to say. He panicked, his throat closing up. What was he going to say if Mark was in there, after all, if Mark was just beyond the door? Something cool, he hoped. Something triumphant, or heartwarming at least. Maybe something that might make Mark laugh. What could he say to make Mark laugh?

“Donghyuck,” Donghyuck gritted his teeth, “Get your shit together.”

He’d come up with something when he laid eyes on Mark, he decided. No sweat.

Donghyuck reached out the rest of the distance, gripped the cool metal of the door handle, and tugged the door open.

Donghyuck was almost surprised to see that The Maw was just... a bar. It was unremarkable. It wouldn’t have looked out of place on Earth.

It was empty, dimly lit in scarlet and violet. Neon signs advertising unfamiliar beer brands cast the bar in an almost rosy red light. There were chairs scattered around tables, booths made of black velvet lining the walls. Across the room from the bar itself, a couple of black pool tables were cramped in.

Donghyuck’s backpack strap slid off his shoulder. It was only by sheer instinct that he managed to catch it before it dropped to the ground, because his mind was wholly occupied by the figure he’d spotted at the nearest pool table. He was leaning over it, reaching, adjusting something Donghyuck couldn’t discern. He had black hair, and his shoulders were broad underneath his patterned black shirt.

Donghyuck’s breath hitched. Gently, he lowered his backpack to the ground. He wasn’t able to be entirely quiet, though. The candles within it shifted against each other, their glass jars clinking. The noise must have alerted the person at the pool table to Donghyuck’s presence, because he turned around.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet. Come back lat–… oh.”

As Mark’s last word was drawn from him, he sounded as if he’d been punched. He looked at Donghyuck in disbelief, his lips just barely parted. Mark, who Donghyuck hadn’t laid eyes on in weeks.

The Maw’s lights cast him in a rosy glow, all blushed, setting his features in sharp relief. His hair was pushed off his face.The slow sparks of hope that opening Hellmouth had ignited within Donghyuck had grown into a full blaze.

Donghyuck spoke first, breaking the silence. He wasn’t able to muster any clever words like he’d wanted to.

“Mark,” was all he could say, in an embarrassing, breathless, broken voice.

If Donghyuck had any doubt that Mark was right and that love was magic before, it would have been vanquished then. Because the moment he spoke, Mark’s lips spread into a wide smile.

“Donghyuck?” he spoke, lilted up at the end.

His name from Mark’s lips stole the last vestiges of breath from Donghyuck’s lungs. His voice was the break in the dam. Donghyuck was compelled forward. Luckily, The Maw was tiny. He had barely taken a few strides for Mark before he was standing right in front of him.

“You’re really – how did you – when did you? I mean, do you need –?”

Mark spoke in fragments, as fragmented thoughts scuttled around Donghyuck’s head. He was thinking that Mark looked good with his hair pushed off his forehead and with what looked like a choker around his neck. He was thinking that Mark had a mole there, on his cheek, and what a shame it was that Donghyuck had forgotten it. He was thinking that it felt like something that had clenched his heart for the past few weeks had finally released him from its hold. He felt as if he was going to burst.

Donghyuck choked on something like a sob as he scanned Mark’s face, taking stock of all he’d remembered, and all he hadn’t. Before Mark had even finished getting all of his half-formed questions out, Donghyuck was launching forward, his arms stretched out.

Donghyuck collided with Mark and, as he wrapped his arms around Mark’s torso, his momentum almost took Mark down. Mark cut off with a gasp and Donghyuck couldn’t even summon the will to be embarrassed about underestimating his strength. Mark balanced them in a moment, his hand landing in a firm touch on the small of Donghyuck’s back.

Donghyuck let his forehead drop onto Mark’s shoulder. And there it was, the scent that his bed had smelled of for a week before he had to do laundry and it had washed out.There was the warmth of Mark’s body, especially relieving after the cold walk through Hell.

“Hey,” Mark raised his other hand to Donghyuck’s back too.

The second touch was higher, between his shoulder blades. Donghyuck felt chills entirely unrelated to the cold outside, as he felt Mark’s fingers trail down his back. His already gentle touch was buffered through Donghyuck’s jacket and shirt, a comforting motion that nevertheless made it hard for Donghyuck to breathe evenly.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Mark asked. His voice was right next to Donghyuck’s ear, low and full of concern. It had been awhile since Donghyuck had heard his voice.

Donghyuck shook his head, mussing up his hair on Mark’s shirt collar.

“Just missed you, is all,” was all Donghyuck said in explanation.

He wondered if Mark could hear his heart pounding. He wondered if Mark could feel his chest rising and falling so quick as he struggled to catch his breath. Mark’s hands tensed on Donghyuck’s back. The one stroking his back, tracing comforting circles, stilled. Donghyuck summoned the will to raise his head off Mark’s shoulder and face him head on.

Mark’s eyes were glinting, completely black. Donghyuck caught his gaze as a small smile toyed with his lips. One corner was lifted up, exposing the tip of one of his fangs.

“What?” Donghyuck asked, nervous, when Mark said nothing.

“Oh,” Mark’s eyes widened, and suddenly Donghyuck’s nerves vanished. He smiled back, as Mark opened his mouth, “Sorry. I missed you too.”

Donghyuck’s smile grew. In the rosy light, Mark’s rising flush looked like blush. Though, going by the way Donghyuck’s cheeks felt overwarm, he supposed he probably looked similar.

He drew back further, releasing his embrace on Mark. He didn’t want to lose contact, though. He kept one hand on Mark, on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. Donghyuck dragged in a long inhale, and his eyes fell to Mark’s lips.

“If I kiss you, are you going to stick around?” Donghyuck wondered aloud, “You’re not going to disappear again, right?”

Mark laughed, a little breathless.

“Probably.”

Donghyuck paused in the midst of leaning in towards Mark. Amused, he scanned Mark’s face. He saw the preoccupation there, noted that his gaze was zeroed in on Donghyuck’s lips.

“Probably?”

Donghyuck had been hoping to make Mark even more flustered with his teasing, but something even better than making Mark flustered happened.

Mark’s lips slid down over his teeth, turning his lopsided grin into a smirk.

“Definitely,” Mark slipped his hand from Donghyuck’s back. Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat. The warm feeling within him rose as Mark laid his hand on Donghyuck’s jaw.

“I’m not leaving you again.”

It was different hearing those words spoken aloud, straight from Mark’s lips. Donghyuck’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. He searched Mark’s face for a hint of insincerity. But he looked so determined. His eyes glinted.

Donghyuck smiled. He was still smiling when Mark angled towards him, closing the distance between them.

It wasn’t like their first kiss, not at all. Mark pressed his lips to Donghyuck’s without hesitation. His breath ghosted hot over Donghyuck’s lips, before his lips, soft and sweet, slotted against Donghyuck’s.

Donghyuck exhaled light, almost a sigh. He let his eyes fall shut as Mark’s hand slid forward and tilted his jaw up. Mark kissed open mouthed, but gentle. Thoughtful. Every small shift in movement seemed to be made with purpose.

Mark tugged Donghyuck closer, pressing him in by the hand splayed at the small of Donghyuck’s back. Donghyuck felt the heat radiating from him, and he was helpless to stop it. He let out another embarrassing sigh, high.

Mark drew back, breaking the kiss. drawing his hand off Donghyuck’s jaw. Donghyuck was dismayed for a moment. He almost whined, but then he caught the sound of it. Laughter.

Donghyuck cracked his eyes open and saw that Mark had his hand splayed across his mouth, unable to fully muffle his laugh. Donghyuck’s heart stuttered. Mark’s nails were painted pink. They had to be freshly done too, going by how neat they looked.

“Why’re you laughing at me?” Donghyuck asked, putting on a sullen tone even though his heart was soaring at the sight of Mark’s nails. Donghyuck wondered if he’d thought of Donghyuck as he painted his nails. He wondered if he’d thought of Donghyuck every time he saw them, even.

“I’m not,” Mark said, followed by another short outbreak of laughter and finally Donghyuck understood what Johnny had meant when he’d said Mark had giggled. Donghyuck couldn’t even pout anymore, not after hearing that.

“I’m just… happy ,” Mark lowered his hand from his mouth, his wide, goofy grin putting his fangs, “I still kinda can’t believe you’re here. I knew you’d be coming for me... I just – you’re really here.”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together to keep from grinning just as widely back at him.

“I can’t believe it either,” he said, low, in a more honest admission than he’d meant it to be.

His eyes from Mark’s, and he allowed himself a small smile. He watched his own hand on Mark’s neck, right over his choker. Mindlessly, unthinking, he ran his thumb along a small portion of the choker as he spoke. The braided leather of it was soft, smooth under his touch. But it was Mark’s skin, burning hot, that gave him goosebumps.

“It took a bit longer than I thought, and I had to get some help, but I figured out how to get to you, just like I said I would.”

“How’d you do it?” Mark asked. There was a dissonant note in his voice that gave Donghyuck pause. He stopped, leaving his thumb resting on the choker. He forced his gaze higher, looking up at Mark through his lashes.

Mark’s goofy grin was gone. In its place was a dazed smile, his eyes dark above it. Spurred on by the effect he seemed to have on Mark, Donghyuck answered.

“I kinda snuck in through a Hellmouth,” he admitted, sly.

“You snuck in –,” Mark shook his head, his eyes lighting up, “What am I saying? Of course you did.”  

The way he said it – resigned, pleased, and impressed all at the same time. Donghyuck felt a curl of pleasure unroll within him. Mark had never doubted him.

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Donghyuck promised, “the whole story.”

He slid his hand down from Mark’s neck, skating over his collarbone, only stopping when his pinkie finger was covered up by the fabric of Mark’s shirt. Mark was burning beneath his palm. He was trembling too, Donghyuck realized. Shaking, just the slightest bit. Donghyuck’s eyes flicked down. His hand was near enough to Mark’s heart that he could have sworn he could feel it beat. It was racing. Donghyuck glanced back up with a smile.

“Later sounds good,” Mark said, distracted.

And that was all the permission Donghyuck needed. He raised his other hand and twisted it through Mark’s hair. He almost felt bad about it for a second, because he’d styled it so nicely, and Donghyuck’s fingers were mussing it up. But by then he’d already begun moving forward.

The moment he captured Mark’s lips once more, he didn’t have any room in him for regret or apology, because Mark was sighing light against him. Mark’s hand was shifting, tensing and untensing on Donghyuck’s back.

Donghyuck’s eyes were closed. He was blind, every sense heightened. He felt the way Mark’s slight tremor made his whole body tremble. Donghyuck’s tongue darted out to test the seam of Mark’s lips and Mark’s mouth fell open easily for him.

Donghyuck licked into Mark’s mouth. He tasted sweet, unexpectedly. Rich and unfamiliar, but sweet. Donghyuck jolted when his tongue brushed up against the points of Mark’s fangs, then he relaxed.

As he relaxed once more into Mark’s hold, it seemed as if Mark was ignited. He pulled Donghyuck flush to him. With his other hand, he grasped the back of Donghyuck’s neck, cradling his head as he pressed forward.

Donghyuck’s fingers curled in Mark’s hair. He clung on as his knees grew weak, as Mark tongue breached Donghyuck’s mouth. The tip of his tongue swirled around Donghyuck’s, teasing, and suddenly that was all Donghyuck could focus on.

In far too short a time, Donghyuck had to pull back. He broke apart from Mark with a sound not unlike a whimper, gasping for breath, wondering if Mark had been able to kiss that well this whole time. He wondered if every time he’d let his mind drift to imagining kissing Mark once more, he’d been underestimating him.

“Oh my God,” Donghyuck exhaled, breathless. Mark withdrew, his eyes cracking open, heavy lidded. He cocked his head, questioning.

“Where’d you learn that?” Donghyuck asked, as a pleased smile curled his lips up. Mark blinked, slow and dazed, before his gaze brightened. Eyes shining, he shook his head. Without answering, he angled back in, pressing his lips to Donghyuck’s.

It wasn’t long before he pulled back again. Donghyuck chased him at first, desiring nothing more than to prolong the kiss. But then Mark’s grip on the back of Donghyuck’s neck tensed, tightened, and Donghyuck stopped with a soft, wordless vocalization.

His head fell back automatically, baring his neck. When Mark closed the distance between them once more, he laid his kiss on Donghyuck’s jawline. His breath ghosted in warm exhalations against Donghyuck’s burning skin as he lapped at the spot where it was thin and sensitive, stretched over bone.

Donghyuck shuddered, his eyes falling shut as Mark nipped his jaw. Just that slight bite was enough to send a shock that sent his senses haywire. Donghyuck fisted his hand in Mark’s shirt collar as his knees buckled. The only thing that kept him stable was Mark’s hand on the small of his back.

Mark drew back, his eyes heavy lidded and dark.

“You okay?” he panted.

Donghyuck nodded quickly, too winded and embarrassed to trust his voice not to come out breathy and high.

“Wait,” Mark’s eyes flicked over Donghyuck’s face. Slowly, a corner of his mouth lifted up, “You liked that.”

Heat bloomed across Donghyuck’s cheeks. He resisted the temptation to cover his face and hide himself from Mark’s self-satisfied grin.

“Maybe,” he allowed, instead. That was the closest to an admission that Mark would get from him, he was determined.

“Huh,” was Mark’s sole reply, thoughtful, almost amused. The dim bar lights fell upon the strands of hair that Donghyuck’s fingers had dislodged, casting long shadows across his face.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes, though his cheeks felt fiery hot and he knew without a doubt that his blush was visible at that moment. He tugged Mark forward by his shirt, hoping to cut the teasing off before it began.

Mark obliged, though his laughter came through clear as crystal, with his mouth so close to Donghyuck’s ear.

“Are you even going to be able to keep standing if I go on?” Mark asked, his voice low.

“Don’t worry about me,” Donghyuck countered, squeezing his eyes shut now that Mark wouldn’t be able to see, “Keep doing what you were doing. I’ll be fine.”

He was determined to stick to his word. Mark huffed a laugh against his skin, sweet and deep, then he moved down. His lips brushed up against Donghyuck’s neck, making him wonder if he ought to laugh or cry at the stimulation to his already sensitive nerves.

Donghyuck regretted speaking moments later, when Mark sunk his teeth into Donghyuck’s neck.

He gasped, his eyelids fluttering, his hand fisting in Mark’s hair. But he was determined. He bit his lip to keep quiet as Mark pressed a series of slow, sloppy kisses to the same spot he had just bit. Just as Donghyuck thought he was in the clear and released his lip, Mark sucked. His breath hitched as he nipped and lathed at the same spot and Donghyuck couldn’t help himself, not anymore. He tremored, full body, and he knew he was done for when Mark drew back, a broad grin spreading across his face.

“You’ll be fine, huh?” Mark asked, self satisfied, like his hair wasn’t completely in disarray from Donghyuck’s fingers, and his lips weren’t shiny and flushed and kiss swollen, like Donghyuck hadn’t done that to him.

“Shut it,” Donghyuck tried to say, but it came off more as a whine, “I’ve had a long day…”

Mark’s smile dimmed. He stared at Donghyuck, searching, his mouth sliding down into a frown.

“Shit,” he said, suddenly, “I bet you have. I’m sorry.”

“Hold on. I’m actually –,” Donghyuck started. He hadn’t meant to make Mark stop .

“Do you want to come back to mine?” Mark asked. His eyes were wide with concern. Donghyuck’s mouth snapped shut. He searched Mark’s face for any underlying meaning, but it looked as though he was still thinking of Donghyuck’s wellbeing.

“Oh. Sure, alright,” Donghyuck agreed, probably too quickly. He told himself that he was just morbidly curious as to what Mark’s place in Hell looked like, and how he spent his time when he wasn’t at work.

“It’s not really fancy or anything,” Mark released Donghyuck from his embrace, and Donghyuck felt the lack when the warm pressure against the small of his back and his neck was gone, “But it’s nicer than this.”

Mark smiled a little sheepishly as he gestured around them, at The Maw. Donghyuck had to smile back, fond. Mark was cute . His boyfriend was cute . Donghyuck laughed at that, at his thought, at the fact that he could refer to Mark like that, even if it was only in his own thoughts.

He reached out and caught Mark’s hand with his, tangling their fingers together. Donghyuck’s hands still stung slightly from his landing in Hell, but it was worth the slight pain. It was worth the momentary itch, getting to hold Mark’s hand.

Mark’s calluses were rough, but the way he glanced down, then back up, was almost shy. Donghyuck had to wonder if it had been awhile since Mark had held someone’s hand. The idea tugged at him. He wished he could have been holding Mark’s hand this whole time.

“You’re not going to get in trouble for leaving the bar?” Donghyuck asked, as he swung their hands together.

Mark smiled and started for the door. He glanced over his shoulder to speak to Donghyuck.

“I might,” he said, “I don’t care, though.”

“Oh?” Donghyuck prompted, amused. He swept up his backpack as they passed by it to the door, managing to slip it over one shoulder without having to let go of Mark’s hand.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Mark started, pushing open the door, gesturing Donghyuck through, “But I’m not very good at following the rules when it comes to you.”
Donghyuck could barely keep from stumbling. He kept silent as Mark grinned, as they started through the dark, red-lit streets. Didn’t he know it. It was bittersweet, when he thought about it. Mark breaking rules for him, again and again.

Donghyuck shivered as a gust of wind swept by, creeping into his open jacket and tousling his hair. Mark tugged him along, his hand warm though Donghyuck’s was growing colder by the instant. Mark must have felt Donghyuck shivering, because he glanced his way.

“You’re cold,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Donghyuck nodded anyway.

“A little,” He didn’t mind the chill. It was cold above, too. Mark’s smile dimmed.

“My place is close by,” he assured, though he quickened his pace.

Donghyuck tugged on his hand, slowing him back down again. He stood quietly for a moment as a group of five figures passed by them. They were dressed in pastel polos and they were arguing in low tones that intermittently peaked about something or other. Only once the group had passed, Donghyuck spoke.

“I’m okay, though,” Donghyuck said, honestly. Mark’s smile didn’t reappear though. He still looked concerned in what Donghyuck could see of his features, though the dim streetlamps and neon signs didn’t fully illuminate them.

Donghyuck smiled wider, determined to get Mark to stop worrying.

He glanced up, and swung their joined hands up a little, skyward, “You never told me there were stars here, by the way. They’re pretty!”

Donghyuck grinned at them. He wished he’d paid more attention that time his high school science class has done a unit on astronomy. He’d thought he’d done okay in it, but he couldn’t spot any familiar constellations. He wished he could recognize any of the formations in the pinpricks of light shining above the tops of the skyscrapers of Hell.

Donghyuck directed his gaze back down, only to find that Mark was already looking at him. His expression was unreadable, his eyes flooded with the scarlet light and some unknowable, illegible emotion. His gaze was weighted. As Donghyuck looked at him, Mark’s lips parted. His shoulders jumped slightly, and his gaze immediately slid from Donghyuck to the street ahead.

Donghyuck’s smile went soft. They continued on, and he followed a half step behind Mark. His hand in Mark’s was warm where his other fingers were slowly going numb from the cold.

“I thought they were stars, too,” Mark said, long after the moment had passed, “When I first came here, I mean.”

Donghyuck glanced back up as they turned a corner. Slowly Mark was leading him along what had to be the furthest edges of Hell. The few people they saw were far and in between. It wasn’t like the area where The Maw had been, and the buildings weren’t as tall and the streets weren’t as crowded as the are where the Hellmouth was.

The stars twinkled. But if they weren’t stars, then…

“What are –?”

Mark’s hand tensed and Donghyuck cut off. Mark’s shoulder line went hard too. He relaxed only moments later, but the momentary stress was unmissable. Donghyuck bit his lower lip. He exhaled. It took a moment, but he convinced himself to put his curiosity second for once, in the face of Mark’s discomfort.

“Nevermind,” he said, bright, “You can tell me about it later.”

He was rewarded for it by the return of the glint in Mark’s eye, and the glint of his teeth as he flashed a grateful grin back at him. Donghyuck swiped his thumb over Mark’s palm, a slow brush, a hopefully comforting gesture. He caught Mark’s grin shift into a softer smile before he turned back around.

There was one more turn down one more street. That was it, before Mark announced,

“We’re here.”

Donghyuck’s heart skipped. The building in front of them resembled a warehouse more than any type of place where someone ought to be living. The bricks looked wet, shining. They reflected the lights from the site across the street that proclaimed non-stop ‘shows’, whatever that meant.

The warehouse was tall, imposing. It looked like it belonged in a shipyard, but then again, Donghyuck wondered if anything in Hell really seemed to belong. All seemed like a mish mash, all different eras colliding, the only constant the laughter and heated arguments of the souls on the streets.

Mark tugged on Donghyuck’s hand gently, and Donghyuck lowered his gaze. Mark’s teeth glinted as he bit his lip, before turning his head from Donghyuck and starting for the building’s front door. Mark led Donghyuck through the door, to a stairwell. He released Donghyuck’s hand as they started to climb the flights of stairs and Donghyuck felt the lack.

He knew it’d be clingy to reach for Mark’s hand again when he’d literally just been holding it. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted that tenable connection. He didn’t want to let Mark go again, not if he could help it. He tried to content himself with watching the back of Mark’s head, the line of Mark’s shoulders as they walked up the stairs. He kept quiet, as Mark spoke.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but I really like it. Taeyong, he –,” Mark paused. After a beat he continued, “Sorry. The boss let me pick where I wanted to live, right when I first came here. He didn’t have to. A lot of the other demons live in Hell’s Spire… it’s a skyscraper? I’ll point it out to you. But… yeah. The boss said I could pick anywhere I wanted to live, and this place kind of reminded me of home, so.”

Donghyuck looked at the dark interior of the staircase, lit by lights that flickered amber, resembling the basement library’s lights. The walls, too, looked wet. It smelled of Hell in here, save for a slight difference. It didn’t smell like rain so much as saltwater, as the distinct tang of the ocean.

Donghyuck leapt up a step to be nearer to Mark.

“It reminds you of Canada?” Donghyuck wasn’t sure how it could, but he was ready to learn.

Mark’s smile was soft. His eyes twinkled above it.

“After my mom and dad couldn’t afford to have me not work anymore, I stopped going to school and started working in the docks.”

“Oh,” was all Donghyuck could say, Mark’s words landing on his heart like a weight.

He thought of his own part time job the summer between sophomore and junior year of high school, working the counter at the frozen yogurt place in the strip mall by his neighborhood. He thought of Mark’s hands, still callused and rough, as Mark reached out and opened the door of the stairwell. The stairs opened out into a hallway with solely two doors – one on the left, and one on the right.

Donghyuck felt something clench at his heart, at Mark’s small smile. Mark had stopped in front of the door on the left and, before Donghyuck could think better of it, he reached out caught Mark’s wrist.

Mark’s expression shifted in surprise but, before he could turn, Donghyuck quickly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Donghyuck drew back, but only just. He had to smile at the look on Mark’s face – utterly disarmed.

Mark’s eyes were wide as he laid his fingertips to the place Donghyuck had kissed.

“Why…?” Mark began, quickly trailing off. His light pink fingernails contrasted with the deep flush spreading across his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears were blooming rosy pink.

“Because I can,” was all Donghyuck had to offer in reply. Because you’re so good and I wish you knew that already, he thought.

Mark seemed to accept that, nodding uncertainly back at Donghyuck. He continued to blush as he raised his hand and uttered a Latin phrase, which was followed by the sound of a lock clicking, unlocking. Mark smiled sheepishly at Donghyuck as he pushed open the door.

“Usually I just kinda magic right in and don’t bother with the lock….” he began.

“Sorry to inconvenience you,” Donghyuck grinned at him, making it clear he didn’t feel the least bit sorry. He followed Mark in through the door and then stopped, his mouth falling open.

Because Mark’s apartment was gorgeous. Tall ceilings, open space allowed by the virtue of being built in a warehouse. Minimal decoration, minimal everything. There was bare bones furniture, just a black couch and an armchair in the center, a book case shoved up against the exposed brick wall that was stuffed to bursting with books. There were some that Donghyuck recognized instantly, just from laying eyes on their spines, and some he remembered reading in grade school.

There were stacks of candles in the corners, on the countertop in the kitchen area, on the coffee table in front of the couch. They were all dripping wax, well used, some barely even stumps.

The apartment’s windows were open to Hell outside, letting the whispers of the crowds drift in, along with gusts of chilled air, and the lights of Hell. They painted Mark’s apartment in crimson, in blood red. Long refracted rectangles of red light danced as the lights outside flickered and swayed.

Donghyuck only just remembered to breathe. He slipped his backpack off and set it by the door.

“Did you decorate this place yourself?” he asked, half in awe.

Mark snorted. He reached for Donghyuck’s backpack and moved it to the couch in the center of the apartment. Donghyuck watched, and tried not to be affected by such a small gesture.

“Not a chance. Another friend helped me with that. He told me I could choose what books I got to read and that was the end of it.”

Donghyuck smiled at the thought of it, of some vague demon telling Mark that he was by no means allowed to be in charge of something like interior design.

“Cute,” Donghyuck hummed. He clasped his hands at his back and turned his bright smile to Mark, “Show me your bedroom?”

Donghyuck’s heart didn’t get the message that it was time to be cool. It kept speeding up, quickening at the most inconvenient times. Like right then, at that moment. Mark blinked at Donghyuck, apparently taken aback, and Donghyuck’s heart quickened in turn.

It took a beat, but Mark smiled and said.

“Oh. You’re tired. Yeah, you can use my bed if you want. I’ve got some clothes you can borrow if you don’t want to sleep in what you’re wearing now?”

Donghyuck had to laugh. He only just realised that he had been laughing so much in the past few hours. It didn’t matter that he was in Hell, and that only person he knew here was the demon in front of him. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t the foggiest idea of what the future held.

He felt lighter. He felt like some unknowable force that had been weighing on had been lifted, from the moment he’d seen Mark. It didn’t matter that the chill outside made his fingers and nose numb. He felt as if that frigid feeling that had lodged itself in him from the moment Mark had vanished had finally been thawed.

“I’m not tired,” Donghyuck corrected. Before Mark could dwell too long on that and connect the dots, though, Donghyuck turned to face the windows, “How do you guys even know when to sleep, by the way? Stupid question, sorry. But it’s always night here, right?”

“The souls don’t sleep,” Mark smiled, though he still looked somewhat confused. He cast his gaze from Donghyuck, and started to walk. Donghyuck followed him, “Hell’s made for them, not us. We have to use clocks to help us along, sometimes.”

Mark walked past a wall that protruded halfway out from the wall lined with the windows, sectioning off a far end of the apartment while not entirely closing it off. Donghyuck followed him into it.

The far end of the apartment had to be Mark’s bedroom, with a wide bed in the center of it that definitely wouldn’t have fit in Donghyuck’s dorm room. And yet, when he saw it, Donghyuck had to pause. He couldn’t help but imagine Mark laying there on the massive bed, alone. He couldn’t help but wonder if Mark had missed sleeping with him even half as much as Donghyuck had missed him. There was a lot of open space on the bed, after all – it was nothing a few well placed pillows could fill.

Mark’s smile had grown uncertain by the time Donghyuck dragged his eyes from the bed back to him. He parted his lips, as if to ask something, but then closed them once more. Mark gestured to the side of the bed, to a bedside table Donghyuck hadn’t noticed before, with a clock on it.

“Oh,” Donghyuck cooed.

He was tempted to berate himself, for letting himself be caught up and sad about a period in their lives that was already over. He climbed atop the bed to reach for the clock, careful to keep his boots off the bedcovers. He examined its face. Analog. It took him a beat to decipher the time.

“Seven o’clock…. According to what? Is Hell even in the same dimension as Earth?”

“Ah,” Mark looked briefly panicked. Something flashed in his eyes before he reached out and snatched the clock from Donghyuck, “We just use UTC because it makes meeting up easier and stuff but… this one’s not UTC. I don’t know why it’s not, actually. I should probably fix it,” Mark laughed, before quieting a touch too quickly, “Wait... so, did you want to sleep right now? Because you’re on my bed, and –.”

Donghyuck raised a brow at Mark’s odd response, wondering why Mark would have cause to be so sketchy over a clock, of all things. He let the change of topic slide though, and smiled at Mark’s eccentricities. He’d missed those, too.

“Mm,” he hummed, “Not really in the mood to sleep right now.”

Donghyuck leaned over and started to unlace his boots, sensing Mark’s eyes on him. The feeling of his gaze prickled at Donghyuck. It made him want to act up. It made him want to act out, to keep Mark’s eyes trained right on him.

He kicked off his boots and leaned back onto Mark’s bed, conscious of how he might look, and trying not to be. Donghyuck forgot himself for a moment, as he met Mark’s eyes. He saw the deliberation there, the hesitation clear as day. Mark stood there, frozen, unmoving from where he’d snatched the clock from Donghyuck moments ago. He still had it clenched in his hands.

Donghyuck tucked his legs up, and watched Mark’s eyes follow them. He smiled, his insecurities starting to vanish. Donghyuck reached out his hand.

“C’mere,” he beckoned. Mark continued to hesitate, sucking in his bottom lip as he raised his gaze to Donghyuck. Donghyuck felt his heart skip.

He smiled, though, and tried not to let his nerves affect his voice as he asked, “Do you even know how much lost time we have to make up for?”

Comprehension flashed in Mark’s eyes and Donghyuck exhaled, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Donghyuck forced himself to stay still as Mark reached out and took his hand. He released his lower lip, leaving it flushed and leaving a spot of shine behind. Donghyuck heard Mark’s breath hitch as he leaned in. He heard the bed creak beneath him as Mark laid his knee on it, as he angled in.

Donghyuck let his eyelids fall, but not before flicking his eyes over Mark’s face once more. He marvelled in it, in getting to see him finally, after so long a wait. In getting to spend time with him, without a curse looming on the horizon like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. Donghyuck closed his eyes.

He felt the heat radiating off from Mark before he felt Mark’s lips, soft and heated, brush up against his. Without even thinking, he moved in towards Mark, without even willing it, drawn in by feel alone. He sighed as their lips slotted together. His exhale was drawn out, shaking. Mark’s hand landed on his hip, beneath his jacket, rucking up his shirt. He felt Mark’s fingers on the strip of bared skin above his jeans and only just held himself back from leaning into Mark’s touch. That wouldn’t do.

It was a teasing kiss, just Mark barely brushing his lips against Donghyuck’s. Just that slight contact that still managed to steal Donghyuck’s breath away and leave him dragging in air as he pulled back. Donghyuck ducked his head before Mark could capture his lips again, overwhelmed in that moment, overwhelmed by the sheer power Mark had over him, in managing to steal his air with just one chaste kiss.

Donghyuck almost hated it, being so weak, so subject to one person. But when he forced his eyes open and his gaze up and he saw Mark’s eyes, they were wide and flooded with red light from outside. They were also full of that weighted, heavy emotion that Donghyuck finally felt he might be able to identify. He also felt full to the brim of it, overflowing, and he couldn’t hate being weak for Mark. Not at all.

“I love you,” Donghyuck whispered, and it wasn’t anything he hadn’t written to Mark before, it wasn’t anything new, but his heart still raced in his chest as if he was confessing it for the first time.

“So much,” Donghyuck added, his voice tremulous. Mark seemed speechless, frozen.

Then, something happened that Donghyuck was half convinced had to be magic. A broad grin spread across Mark’s face, so bright and utterly content that it made Donghyuck’s heart thrum and a warm feeling spread throughout him, as though he was basking in the summer sun. Donghyuck thought that maybe the daylight was overrated, that maybe he never had to go above ground again, that he could probably live off that smile alone.

Mark laughed, light and almost musical, the same laugh from the bar, and Donghyuck couldn’t help but smile back.

Mark reached up and laid his hand on Donghyuck’s cheek, gentle. Donghyuck almost turned into his touch, but then Mark spoke.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he murmured and, instead, Donghyuck nearly choked out a laugh.

“You’re supposed to say it back,” he teased, wanting to keep that smile on Mark’s face.

“You know how I feel about you,” Mark’s tone matched Donghyuck’s, also light and teasing, “How I’ll always feel about you.”

He climbed on top of the bed, joining Donghyuck. Donghyuck could barely hold back his own giggles from escaping. Donghyuck readjusted, moving back, scooting away from Mark as he reached out for him.

Mark’s voice dipped when he said the word ‘always’, growing firmer. It sent tingles down Donghyuck’s spine. He almost shivered, but he suppressed it. He pressed his lips together, not ready to give in that easy.

“Three words, Mark. C’mon. You can do it.”

Mark sat at the foot of the bed, opposite Donghyuck. He still looked confused but he was also still grinning widely. Donghyuck jutted out his lower lip and widened his eyes,

“Please?”

Something shifted in Mark’s expression. His grin went crooked. His eyes glinted, reflecting the lights outside, and he moved. He reached out and grabbed Donghyuck’s knee. Donghyuck’s eyes fell to Mark’s hand on his jeans. His heart stopped as Mark moved forward and slid his hand forward, in one smooth movement.

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark started, and Donghyuck inhaled, sharp, his eyes still snagged on Mark’s hand as it pushed forward. Mark traced his outer thigh, slow, before landing at the crook of his hip. Donghyuck looked up, and Mark’s face was right there.

Mark was kneeling between his legs. Oh, Donghyuck thought, Mark had been distracting him. And, fuck, had it been effective. Donghyuck smiled a weak, fluttery smile. Mark’s smile reflected his own, just as weak, and full of nerves.

“I love you.”

Donghyuck knew Mark loved him. He knew it. He was more sure in that fact than in the knowledge that the sun would rise every day, or that magic was real, or that he’d always manage to find trouble somewhere. Knowing it and hearing it directly from Mark was entirely different though.

“Oh,” he said, breathless, and trying not to sound it, “I mean – there, that wasn’t so hard, was it –?”

Mark’s lips on his cut off his rambling. Donghyuck tensed, then relaxed into the kiss in a moment. The bed shifted beneath him and creaked as Mark moved forward. Donghyuck barely noticed because, at that moment, he realized he could feel Mark’s lips curling up, that he could feel his smile as they kissed.

Mark raised his hand from Donghyuck’s hip and Donghyuck only felt the lack for a moment before Mark’s fingertips grasped the front of his jaw in a featherlight touch. Mark angled his face upward, gently guiding his chin. Donghyuck let Mark move him as Mark pressed in closer, deepening the kiss.

Mark’s lips withdrew from Donghyuck’s, and Donghyuck’s eyes stayed closed for a long beat. He waited until the moment outlasted how long it took him to recover his breath. He opened his eyes, slow, unsure why Mark had stopped. Mark’s eyes were open too, just barely. His lips, kiss swollen and flushed, were fixed into a wide, dazed smile.

Donghyuck recognized the look on Mark’s face. His expression was one of hardly believing his luck. Donghyuck only knew because he was feeling the same exact thing in that moment. After so much waiting, so many letters, so many uncertainties, here they were, together. Donghyuck raised his hand and laid it lightly on Mark’s jaw. It didn’t take much coaxing to guide him back down and bring his lips back into contact with Donghyuck’s.

Donghyuck didn’t think he could ever tire of this, of kissing Mark. Slow, and languid, relishing in the time they had. Explorative, only just getting a feel for each other. Donghyuck knew so much of Mark. He knew Mark, but he was only just finding out how he ticked.

They only moved after minutes, unhurried, easy. Donghyuck slipped off his jacket and Mark padded over to what looked to be his desk in the corner of the room, to hang it up for Donghyuck. On the desk, Donghyuck spotted the flower he had sent him. The plastic pink camellia, placed in a water glass, looking conspicuous among the candles and books surrounding it.

Donghyuck was grinning by the time Mark slipped back onto the bed. There was a question in his eyes. Donghyuck only shook his head and dragged Mark back in for another kiss. His skin felt hypersensitive, tingling, as Mark’s hands moved over his body, roving, not actually touching, not until he raised them all the way to Donghyuck’s face.

He brushed Donghyuck’s bangs off from his face, out of his eyes. That was it, and Donghyuck couldn’t even be disappointed. Mark had paused in the midst of kissing Donghyuck, just to draw back and do it. Just that one careful gesture. The shine in his eyes told Donghyuck everything. Maybe he didn’t need to ask for another I Love You , because he’d heard it loud and clear right then, without a single word ever being spoken.

It took hours before they finally convinced themselves to leave the bedroom and venture out into the kitchen for snacks and water. Donghyuck laughed at Mark’s oddly stocked pantry, which Mark explained was definitely not due to them being in Hell but, rather, due to his own lack of self control. The only food Mark seemed to own were crackers and candy and an abundance of ingredients for making sandwiches.

Donghyuck fixed himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and carefully poked fun at Mark for still eating sandwiches. He wasn’t sure if that would still be a sore spot for Mark. It had been ninety years, but Donghyuck couldn’t see it being that easy to get over being tricked out of one’s soul.

“They’re still good,” Mark had answered, matter of fact, “Okay, I’m a little bitter about the soul thing… but sandwiches are still good, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck laughed, probably a bit harder than Mark’s statement warranted, going by the confusion clear on his face. He smiled at Mark over his sandwich, though, thinking that this was the man he loved. Or– the demon he loved. Whatever. It didn’t matter, not to Donghyuck.

When Donghyuck was finished eating, Mark let him dig through his drawers to find clothes he’d be alright with sleeping in. Donghyuck probably took longer than he strictly needed to, sorting through Mark’s clothes, asking him about the stories behind all the variety of black shirts and ripped jeans.

“That’s going to be too big for you,” Mark laughed, as Donghyuck lifted up a large shirt to his frame.

It was some old band shirt, faded by aging to gray and soft as anything to the touch. Donghyuck made a slight unimpressed sound. And that was how he ended up wearing a shirt with sleeves that hung down to his elbows, and a hemline that reached the tops of his thighs. It smelled of Mark, though, and it was soft and warm and Donghyuck felt warmed even further knowing that it’d probably been worn countless times by Mark over the years.

“You can look now,” Donghyuck offered, as he clambered atop the bed to join Mark, “‘m decent.”

Mark lowered his hand from his eyes and watched without either commenting or laughing once, as Donghyuck drew the bedcovers aside and slipped under. Mark’s eyes looked molten, Donghyuck thought. Donghyuck was arrested by them. They were dark with sparks of red from the lights outside the opened windows. Donghyuck blossomed under his gaze, feeling expansive. He stretched, filling the bed’s empty space.

“What are you waiting for?” Donghyuck prompted, smiling already, despite himself, “An invitation or something?”

Mark shook his head, his eyes crinkling up into crescents as a toothy grin spread across his face.

When Mark joined Donghyuck under the covers, Donghyuck’s heart felt full to bursting. He and Mark lay facing each other, bare inches between them. Together, they occupied barely a portion of the wide bed, leaving the rest of it empty.

“‘Night, Mark,” Donghyuck whispered, before holding his breath as he darted in to press one more chaste kiss to Mark’s lips. That was all he allowed himself, before retreating and breaking eye contact, tucking his head down. It took a couple long moments before the response he was expecting followed, low, and warm.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

Hell was right outside Mark’s windows, right outside the safety of Mark’s arms. It was all around them, in the chill that lay just outside the blankets, in the whistling wind beyond the apartment walls, in the murmured voices that crept in through the cracks. But Donghyuck felt warm, for the first time in a long time. He felt full. He felt like he wasn’t missing something, and he could smile as he felt sleep overtake him. He fell asleep as easy as breathing, as easy as Mark’s arms sliding around him, and pulling him close.

Chapter Text

“Hey, kids. Wake up.”

Donghyuck woke to the sound of a vaguely recognizable voice. He decided against listening to it, as content as he felt in that moment. He was so comfortable, so warm. He felt enveloped, secure. He sniffled as he breathed in. As he gradually grew more aware, he realized his face was pressed up against someone’s chest. Whoever he was, his skin was soft against Donghyuck’s cheek and he smelled strongly of a struck match, a scent that was quickly becoming the most comforting one Donghyuck knew.

Donghyuck smiled and nestled in closer, even as Mark shifted underneath him.

“Stop moving,” he mumbled, his order so sleep-affected even he could barely discern it.

“But...” Mark’s voice was low, gravelly.

Donghyuck blinked his eyes open slowly, fighting with the weight of them. Mark looked blurry. At first, he could barely make out his features. Donghyuck’s smile widened as Mark swam into focus. Donghyuck pulled himself up and, without hesitation, he slipped his fingers under Mark’s jaw.

The blankets slid off Donghyuck’s shoulders as he rose and settled onto his knees, curled over Mark. He paused with their faces only inches apart, and took a moment to revel in the way the almost-stunned expression on Mark’s face shifted, the way a toothy smile took its place.

“Uh. Good morning,” Mark said, uneven.

Donghyuck was still half asleep as he leaned in to press a kiss to Mark’s lips. Mark rose onto his elbows to meet Donghyuck halfway.

“Alright. That’s enough of that. Do that shit later. You two have a lot of talking to do.”

The voice that had roused Donghyuck from sleep rang out again and he paused, frozen. He drew back from Mark. He concluded two things at once: that he definitely hadn’t imagined the voice, and that he definitely hadn’t imagined he recognized its owner either. Donghyuck turned around, looking over his shoulder towards the source of the voice.

Johnny. He was leaning up against that wall that separated Mark’s bedroom from the rest of the apartment, with his arms crossed over his chest. He had a look on his face that Donghyuck didn’t have the presence of mind to describe. A mix of nausea and pride, perhaps.

Donghyuck could barely summon up the will to be properly shocked. He frowned, his mind still slowly waking up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, accusatory.

Johnny had rudely awakened them right in the middle of what Donghyuck thought was shaping up to be a pleasant night.

“What am I – ?” Johnny’s mouth dropped open. His arms fell to his sides, “I should be asking you that. Donghyuck, what the fuck are you doing in Hell?”

Unbidden, Donghyuck’s eyes slid back to Mark. Mark looked even more caught than him, staring past Donghyuck to Johnny with wide eyes and barely parted lips.

“That’s – forget I said that,” Johnny groaned.

Mark’s brows drew down low and his lips tugged down into a frown, one point of one of his fangs jutting out over his bottom lip. He leaned forward more, shifting underneath Donghyuck. His eyes remained directed at Johnny, but one of his hands slid up Donghyuck’s outer thigh.

Donghyuck forgot to breathe for a moment, as Mark’s hand wrinkled up the hem of his shirt. As Mark spoke, his hand traced up Donghyuck’s hip until it settled at his waist.

“Actually, though. Why are you in my apartment? I thought we agreed you’d start knocking,” Mark asked. He sounded confused, and a little betrayed. His voice shook Donghyuck out of his reverie.

“You weren’t at the bar,” Johnny began.

Donghyuck’s gaze flitted back over his shoulder. He remained hyperconscious of Mark’s firm touch on him, and Mark’s torso burning warm beneath him. Johnny’s nauseated look had returned, his pale skin looking decidedly green.

As he glanced back, Donghyuck caught Johnny’s gaze flit down to Mark’s hand, then back up, then away, to the windows. It was as if he didn’t know where to look.

“I went to give you Donghyuck’s letter and you weren’t there. Came here first thing only to find… well, I guess you don’t need this anymore, do you?”

Donghyuck felt heat rise to his face. It bloomed across his cheeks as Johnny withdrew the last letter Donghyuck had written to Mark out from his coat. He didn’t recall what he’d said within it but he was sure that it had been embarrassing, whatever it was. He’d written it when he was on the verge of finding the Hellmouth, after all.

“What?” Mark’s indignant reply came, “No,” Mark’s gaze remained on Johnny as, without hesitation, he asked, “Baby, can you get up?”

Stunned, it was all Donghyuck could do to shift and move aside. His cheeks burned even hotter, impossibly. Donghyuck hadn’t forgotten the first time Mark had called him something like that. He hadn’t forgotten how it felt, even as part of a ruse to fool his friends.

Donghyuck smiled, small, only to himself. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being called baby, but Mark saying it prompted an undeniable fluttery feeling within him. He decided that maybe he was okay with being called baby, if Mark was the one saying it.

Mark didn’t even seem to notice what he’d said. He pulled the covers aside and stalked over to Johnny before snatching the letter from his outstretched hand. Johnny looked just as stunned as Donghyuck felt. Mark wrested the letter from Johnny’s hand and took time to scan it before looking back up, and but it was only when he laid eyes on Donghyuck and Johnny that a bit of uncertainty crept onto his face.

“...what?” he asked, and Donghyuck had to wonder at how easily that ‘baby’ had slipped out, that Mark hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.

Johnny cleared his throat conspicuously.

“Nothing. Can we get back to the fact that Donghyuck’s here, in Hell? Can one of you start explaining?”

Mark turned to Donghyuck, still frowning. There was silence for a moment before Donghyuck realized that they were both looking expectantly at him.

“Oh!”

He slumped back down on the bed, thinking of the full story there was behind his journey to Hell, the explanations he had yet to share with anyone.

“Oh God. Okay… actually, before we start, do you think I could get a cup of coffee or something?”

Minutes later, Donghyuck was blowing over the steaming surface of a freshly brewed cup of coffee, two sets of dark demonic eyes trained on him. He gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts, then plunged in. Donghyuck slowly started in on the story, conscious of Mark sitting by him on the couch. Johnny sat rigidly in the armchair, his gaze illegible.

Donghyuck couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow confessing to doing something wrong, with the way Johnny was looking at him.

He shared about following up on Mark’s tip about the Hellmouth, on getting help from an unlikely source (he didn’t go into detail about Jisung’s hints. He wasn’t sure if Jisung would have wanted him to let anyone know about his involvement). Donghyuck relaxed as he spoke, tucking up his legs onto the couch and leaning onto Mark.

Mark, for his part, sat rapt in attention. His gaze fell from Donghyuck’s though, as Donghyuck started to speak about the research he’d had to do on opening Hellmouths. Donghyuck wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said wrong, to make Mark look away. At least, not until after he’d wrapped up his explanation – including how Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin had helped him open the Hellmouth in the library basement, and how he’d had to jump through it.

“And then, well! I ran into Mark at The Maw. I... don’t really need to share what happened from that point, do I?” Donghyuck was already starting to feel his cheeks grow warmer at just the thought of recounting that. He and Mark had virtually just kissed nonstop from then.

“No,” Johnny pursed his lips. His brows were drawn together, and he looked as though he was deep in thought, “I don’t think you do.”

“You had to work so hard just to get to me,” Mark’s voice was low. He looked up at Donghyuck from under his lashes, and Donghyuck was taken aback by the look in his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Mark’s tense frame and his persistent silence suddenly made sense. Donghyuck had to smile at him, though. Mark had it all wrong.

“I don’t know if it was that hard,” Donghyuck said, and he meant it. If he thought about it, he would’ve done so much more, just to get to Mark. Mark’s eyes were searching. Donghyuck cocked his head.

“Plus, you were worth it,” he added, and the way Mark’s gaze lit up and he raised his head after was priceless. Donghyuck smiled, as he finally recalled what he’d written in his last letter to Mark.

“You’re worth a lot to me, Mark,” Donghyuck said. He’d let Mark figure out just how much when he got around to reading the letter. Donghyuck couldn’t say it aloud. At least not then, not wide awake, and not with Johnny right there.

Donghyuck set his coffee mug down and reached out for Mark’s hand. Carefully, he slipped his hand into Mark’s. Mark’s eyes flicked down, then back up again. A lopsided grin took over his face and Donghyuck knew that, though his words weren’t perfect, he’d still managed to get his point across.

“You’re so…” Mark started, before trailing off.

“What?” Donghyuck prompted, light.

“You really didn’t give me any choice in the matter,” Mark said, before shaking his head, “I had to fall in love with you. Wasn’t even a question.”

It was as though Donghyuck was sitting by a fireplace, that was crackling low. He felt comfortable and warmed throughout, despite the frigid Hell air that had crept in through the cracks in Mark’s apartment and sent goosebumps across his bare skin.

“Oh,” Donghyuck said, the word a breathless admission.

So it was the same for Mark, he thought. It was just as undeniable. Just as easy. The thought made him feel almost weightless, buoyant.

Mark laughed, his eyes crinkling up into crescents, and the sound of it was music to Donghyuck’s ears.

A soft, almost inaudible sound came from the direction of the armchair, and Donghyuck was only just drawn out of his state of warm contentment. He looked over. Johnny was leaning forward in the armchair, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands steepled in front of his face. His expression was still impossible to read.

“You kids are gonna break my fucking heart,” Johnny said, and that was all it took for the warmth to go bleeding out from Donghyuck’s frame. Though Johnny’s face betrayed nothing, his tone when he spoke was almost delicate.

“It still sounds like you haven’t thought through this at all,” Johnny continued, “Are you just going to hang out in Hell for the next decade, Donghyuck? Is that your plan?”

Donghyuck’s lips parted, though he couldn’t summon up a single word in response. He didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t exactly say that.

“Lay off, Johnny,” Mark spoke suddenly, heated, “He just got here.”

Johnny’s hands fell down, revealing a look of surprise on his face. Donghyuck looked from Johnny to Mark, frozen in place. Mark had gone tense once more.

“Well, he can’t stay here,” Johnny replied, but even he sounded unsure as he gazed out at the two of them.  

“He can for now,” Mark’s voice was brittle.

“Hell’s not meant for the living, Mark,” Johnny’s voice was soft, “Donghyuck’s going to have to leave you eventually, one way or another.”

Donghyuck couldn’t even deny the truth of his words. He couldn’t even offer Mark that comfort. He would have to leave in just a few days’ time, to get back to his parents’ house before they got too worried. It didn’t feel any less harsh to be reminded of it, though.

Mark’s hand tightened on Donghyuck’s.

“I’m working on something,” Mark said, after a beat, “Just… I need a little bit more time to figure it out.”

Donghyuck didn’t know whether to trust the instant relief he felt upon hearing that. Mark had a plan. They weren’t going to just have to hope things worked out. But, then again, the last time Mark had a plan Donghyuck hadn’t known what was happening until Mark planted a kiss on him and disappeared right after.

Johnny stared at Mark for a long moment. Donghyuck didn’t realize that he was holding his breath, waiting for Johnny to do something, anything until Johnny’s face finally shifted minutely, his brow inching up. He leaned back, his hands raised high.

“Okay. Whatever. I’ll back off for now.”

Donghyuck exhaled, letting out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Mark’s hand relaxed in his, and he felt the tension bleed from Mark’s frame. It was clear how much Johnny’s support meant for Mark, even if it was only support as far as not questioning them anymore.

“Can you not tell Taeyong about Donghyuck? At least, not until I figure things out?” Mark’s voice was softer, in an instant. Uncertain.

Johnny eyed Mark evenly. His gaze flicked to Donghyuck.

“Taeyong might let him stay,” Johnny said. There was doubt in his voice, though.

“You don’t know that any more than I do,” Mark responded, raw and vulnerable.

Donghyuck was trying to keep up. He’d heard both Mark and Johnny mention the name before. From the context, and from how important the guy seemed to be… Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat.

They couldn’t be talking about literal Satan, could they? Their boss – actual Satan, who Johnny seemed to think might be even a little okay with Donghyuck being in Hell.

“Um,” Donghyuck began, his voice small. Mark and Johnny turned to him, their eyes wide and dark. Donghyuck cleared his throat, “I would also prefer if you didn’t let Satan know about me. Thanks.”

Mark cracked a disbelieving, fond smile after Donghyuck had spoken, even though Donghyuck definitely hadn’t been joking. Johnny snorted.

“He’s really not that bad, Donghyuck,” Johnny said. A worn smile spread across his lips, and he shook his head, “But okay. Fine. I won’t let him know... even though I don’t feel great about keeping this from him.”

“Thanks, Johnny,” Mark exhaled. Donghyuck quickly nodded along in agreement.

Johnny looked as though he wanted to add something more, but he just clicked his tongue. He pushed up from the armchair with a sigh.

“I can’t promise the other guys will be as discreet as me,” he said. Then, just before he spoke the Latin incantation and vanished into the shadows, Johnny caught eyes with Mark once more, “And it might be wise not to skip out on work again. That’s your punishment for the first time you broke the rules, remember?”

Once Johnny had disappeared, Donghyuck assured Mark that he didn’t mind if Mark went to the bar for his work. In fact, Donghyuck admitted that he preferred it. Donghyuck decided that he’d try to always lessen the amount of trouble that Mark got into because of him, if he was able.

They had a few hours left until Mark had to leave, and Donghyuck had vague ideas for that time. He and Mark were back in Mark’s bed, each of them freshly showered. Donghyuck smelled of the strange bar soap Mark had in his shower, and he was wearing a borrowed black shirt and his own jeans.

Donghyuck was laying on his belly, penning a letter to Jeno. He wanted his friends to know that he’d made it, that he was with Mark and things were going well. He had no idea how he’d get the letter to Jeno, other than begging Johnny for a favor, but Donghyuck figured he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

All the while, he had to try not to be over conscious of Mark just behind him, leaning against the stack of pillows and reading over Donghyuck’s latest letter. He was simultaneously repressing the urge to climb onto Mark’s lap.

He didn’t need to be that clingy, Donghyuck reminded himself, his pen stilling on the paper. Mark was here to stay. He’d said so. The only way they’d separate was if Donghyuck himself had to leave. Or, Donghyuck supposed, if Satan discovered him and wasn’t feeling so charitable.

Donghyuck peeked over his shoulder, only to be taken aback. Mark’s expression was so open, in the midst of reading Donghyuck’s letter. He couldn’t have had a single guard up. His fang poked out over his lip and his eyes were wide. Somehow, they were shining even more than usual, even more reflective.

Donghyuck’s breath caught. It was one thing to write Mark’s letters from a distance, and to hear secondhand how Mark had reacted. But seeing Mark look on the words he’d written with nothing other than reverence, as if Donghyuck’s words were even worthy of that… Donghyuck felt his heart swell.

A corner of Mark’s lip ticked up, as his gaze neared the bottom of the page. Donghyuck was so caught up in watching the minutiae of his reactions that he hadn’t noticed Mark had finished reading until Mark raised his eyes from the letter. Immediately, his gaze met Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck had once more been caught staring. His only consolation was that Mark’s smile hadn’t dimmed. That it had, in fact, grown wider.

“That was cheesy,” Mark said. It took Donghyuck a minute to realize that Mark was responding to his letter, to the embarrassing last few sentences.

“I know,” Donghyuck groaned. He shifted and sat up, lifting his hand so he could drop his face into it and hide.

“Wait. Hold on,” Mark’s response came quickly.

The bed creaked as he moved towards Donghyuck. Within moments, his hand has grasped Donghyuck’s wrist. He gently guided Donghyuck’s hand away from his face. Donghyuck was faced with Mark, who was grinning widely, as bright as the sky full of stars just outside the bedroom windows. Donghyuck blinked.

“I liked it, though,” Mark said. His eyes glinted as they flitted over Donghyuck’s face, “I like when you’re cheesy.”

Donghyuck lowered his hand. He made a mental note to keep on saying things he’d normally never have the courage to say, if it made Mark smile like that.

“You would,” Donghyuck teased, emboldened, “you big… marshmallow.”

“I… what? What did you just call me?” Mark looked like he wanted to laugh, though he didn’t quite know why.

“Soft,” Donghyuck said, with conviction. He smiled after he’d spoken, and there was a chance it may have come off a little devilish.

Mark looked stumped for a moment, then he laughed.

“You’ve got no one to blame but yourself for that,” was all he said. It was all the warning Donghyuck had, before Mark set his letter aside and angled in for yet another kiss that would go on to send Donghyuck’s heart racing and send shivers down his spine, all the way to the tips of his toes and fingers.

“I want to come with you,” Donghyuck pouted, hours later, as he watched Mark button up another black patterned shirt. He was setting to leave for a shift at The Maw, getting ready to leave Donghyuck.

Mark looked up into the mirror in front of him. He caught Donghyuck’s eye in the reflection.

“My friends drop in on me unannounced all the time,” Mark said, “If they decide to report you to our boss…”

He didn’t sound completely convinced of the words he was saying, though. Donghyuck detected a weak spot. He latched on. He had an inkling of an idea that might soothe Mark’s nerves, a plan that almost gave him a rush of nostalgia.

“Ah, c’mon,” he grinned, “I won’t even get caught. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Mark looked skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I could just pose as a soul, right? Your friends won’t even be able to tell me apart from any other non-demon in the bar.”

Mark’s brows lowered. He looked thoughtful, as he resumed buttoning up his shirt.

“Huh. That’s not the worst idea. The minute one of them gets suspicious, though…”

“They won’t,” Donghyuck slipped off the bed, landing lightly. He strode across Mark’s bedroom, coming up behind him, as he pointed out, “We’ve done this before.”

“And it worked out so well the first time,” Mark said, though every protest sounded weaker. His hands paused once more, as Donghyuck slipped his own hands

“We’ll be fine,” Donghyuck assured, low, close to Mark’s ear.

He drew the collar of Mark’s shirt down, just an inch or so. He leaned in and pressed a kiss on the side of Mark’s nape. A tremor shook Mark’s body as Donghyuck drew back. Donghyuck had to bite back a smile, joyed as he was that he could have that effect on Mark.

“Famous last words,” Mark said, his voice a touch breathless.

Donghyuck had to laugh, unable to maintain his collected face a moment longer. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it exactly that way, upon reflecting further on it. For all his assurances, he had a feeling demons would be a bit more difficult to fool than his friends.

Mark kept glancing nervously every time The Maw’s door opened, so Donghyuck had taken it upon himself to distract Mark. He’d asked Mark to make Donghyuck his favorite drink, just to try. Mark had brightened, saying that the drink was simple but that he thought Donghyuck would enjoy it.

It ended up being just a simple drink featuring sort of deep crimson liquor that Donghyuck was having trouble placing. It was mixed in with club soda, lightening it to a pale, translucent hue of red that almost neared pink, though Donghyuck wasn’t about to point that out.

Donghyuck took a sip, and relaxed immediately. He wouldn’t have to fake like he enjoyed it. The liquor must have been flavored and sweetened. The drink tasted fruity, and tart, but not overwhelmingly sweet. Just enough that Donghyuck could maintain his smile as he took a second sip.

Mark let out a sort of smile to himself, as he gazed at the bottle of the crimson liquor. He set it down, before looking back up to Donghyuck.

“Do you remember that velvet shirt you wore?” Mark asked Donghyuck, out of the blue. Donghyuck looked across the bar at him, confused.

“The night of the party,” was all Mark said, by way of explanation.

He didn’t look worried anymore. His expression was distant. A small smile curled up his lips, and Donghyuck looked into his eyes, and all other than Mark faded away. The few occupants of the bar, the souls in the corners, or playing darts and pool, the other bartender polishing glasses at the opposite end of the bar, they all fell away.

Donghyuck blinked. Donghyuck nodded. Of course he remembered. He remembered changing into the shirt, suddenly, recalling the way Mark had looked at him, then looked away, too quick.

“You look really good in red, Donghyuck,” Mark said, “But I think I like you even better in black.”

Donghyuck felt conscious of Mark’s borrowed clothes, all of a sudden. He couldn’t understand Mark, at first. He was only wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Black, with printed palm trees. It was the only thing he could find with a touch of something from above, to it. It wasn’t anywhere near his velvet shirt. And his pants were just the tightest ones he could find in Mark’s odd collection of jeans and sweatpants.

Donghyuck would blame the weird cocktail he was drinking but he felt a rapid heated flush rise to his cheeks. He held his head up, though. He didn’t shy away, not while Mark maintained eye contact with him.

“Y’know, I don’t think it’s the fact that I’m wearing black that’s got you so happy,” Donghyuck countered.

“Huh?” Mark’s eyes glimmered.

“You like that it’s your clothes I’m wearing,” Donghyuck asserted, with a confidence that only came because he’d been in Mark’s position weeks back.

He knew how it felt to see Mark wearing his clothes. Only, if Donghyuck thought about it, that feeling had to be amplified now. They’d shared so many pretty words and spent so many sleepless nights apart, and they’d shared so many kisses.

He’d been expected Mark to deny it, or to shift the topic. Anything other than what he did – which was just laughing, and look down, and resume polishing the glass that he’d long already polished to a perfect shine.

“Hm. You’re right,” is what Donghyuck didn’t expect to hear.

His surprise left him at odds. He sat there, stumped, his fingers curled around the warming glass of the drink Mark had made him. Mark stood there, supposedly working, smiling sanguine for a few more beats. Then, his shoulders began to shake. He set the glass he was polishing down with a clink. Mark gripped the edge of the bar as he curled in and let out a fresh bout of laughter.

“Your face,” he snickered, after a long enough time has passed that he was able to speak without interrupting himself with laughter.

“What about my face?” Dongyhuck almost rose from his seat in indignation.

“You looked so surprised. You always do, whenever I say stuff like that,” Mark said. His voice was lifted with barely suppressed laughter.

“You’re not supposed to be the flirty one,” Donghyuck complained, but he couldn’t keep the act up. He had to grin back. He felt ridiculous, giggling with Mark over a bar in Hell. He felt right.

It was impossible to grow bored, though Donghyuck stayed with Mark throughout his whole shift. Save for Mark, no other demons ever showed their faces. Donghyuck had to think that maybe Mark was worrying over nothing.

Donghyuck sipped lightly at the strange Hell liquor. He talked with Mark, when Mark  wasn’t dealing with a soul, or he wasn’t reminding the other bartender to get back to work. Donghyuck eyed the other bartender with curiosity. He was a soul named Eddie, he discovered over the course of the night.

Donghyuck suspected Eddie had died hundreds of years ago, going by his dated billowing white shirt with suspicious rust-looking stains on one portion of its hem, and by his shoulder length hair that was carelessly tied back in a ponytail. Donghyuck smiled into his drink, as he entertained the thought of Eddie being an honest-to-God, swashbuckling pirate in life.

Donghyuck also prodded Mark further about his plan to keep them together but Mark kept his mouth shut, only smiling, and changing the topic every time Donghyuck asked a too pointed question. Donghyuck had no time to be upset about being kept in the dark, though, not when Mark kept shifting the conversation back to happier topics.

When Mark was busy, Donghyuck people-watched. Soul-watched? He glanced around The Maw, over the top of his glass. His limbs were beginning to feel warm and loose, and he was laughing hard at even Mark’s worst jokes.

The few souls around didn’t seem to be like the souls in the streets. The Maw’s occupants were alone, for the most part. They sat alone, they played pool alone. They drank alone. They weren’t laughing, they weren’t arguing. Donghyuck could see, in a way, how this could be this worst sort of punishment for Mark. It was so dismal, watching them brush by each other and not even take note of each other.

A man in splotched, stained overalls played darts at one corner of The Maw. A woman in a slinky dress and loose waves of platinum hair was curled over a drink at the other end of the bar, her eyes unfocused and distant. Mark fixed her a new drink and came back to Donghyuck. As their gazes met, a smile brightened his face, and Donghyuck found a new appreciation for it.

It was a wonder, Donghyuck thought – the fact that he could smile, even though this must have been how he spent all of his days from the moment he’d broken Donghyuck’s curse.

Donghyuck must have been staring too long, because Mark’s concerned expression returned. A crease appeared between Mark’s brows.

“What is it?” he asked, shaking Donghyuck from his reverie.

“Is it hard?” Donghyuck blurted out, “I mean, being happy in Hell?”

Mark blinked. Then, his smile reappeared. He leaned over the bar, bringing his face close to Donghyuck’s. His eyes shone bright in the dim rosy lights, and Donghyuck found himself getting lost in them.

“It used to be,” Mark confessed in a low tone, before straightening and resuming speaking in his normal voice, “Not anymore, though. Not with you.”

Donghyuck had to bite his lip to contain his smile. Maybe the dive around them didn’t matter in the slightest. Maybe Hell beyond its walls didn’t matter either. It wasn’t consequential, where they were.

“Cheesy,” Donghyuck whispered, before bringing the fruity drink back to his lips. It was easier than saying all the things he wanted to say, than confessing that he hadn’t known how bright his life could be either, not until Mark came into it.

“...Me too. You make me happy too,” he said, and he had to look away as he spoke, his nerves getting the better of him, “I don’t even mind Hell. I like it with you, anyways.”

The admission was worth it for the way Mark smiled at him over the bar. Donghyuck’s heart reacted, speeding up its pace. Suddenly, Donghyuck couldn’t wait until he got Mark alone. He couldn’t wait until he had the chance to kiss him, to show him just how much he meant his words. He told himself to be patient, though, and hold out until they were away from the souls.

Donghyuck had to wait hours, though. The moment Mark followed the last soul to the door and locked it behind their receding back, Donghyuck rose from his barstool. He leaned over and grabbed the full bottle of the crimson liquor Mark had used to mix his drink, as well as a couple of glasses.

Mark’s eyes scanned Donghyuck’s hands as he walked over, then rose, question in his eyes. Donghyuck shrugged.

“You’re off shift, right?”

Donghyuck hoped he wasn’t convincing Mark to break even more rules.

“Uh… yeah,” Mark’s eyes glinted.

Donghyuck smiled to himself as Mark looked past him and told Eddie that he could leave now, that Mark could take care of closing up on his own.

Eddie threw Mark what might have been a grateful look, if his face weren’t virtually devoid of emotion. Donghyuck poured Mark more than a few shots’ worth of straight liquor, figuring he had awhile to go to catch up to Donghyuck.

But Mark did more than catch up. Donghyuck hadn’t known he’d be such a lightweight. Donghyuck giggled when Mark wobbled as he stood, forced to set aside his poolstick to regain his balance. They’d long since abandoned the game of pool they were meant to be playing.

Instead, they’d devolved into talking about their friends. Donghyuck told Mark more about Renjun and Jaemin, about how that was going. He admitted he’d grown a little jealous watching them together, and Mark’s eyes had shifted and saddened and Donghyuck had hurriedly changed topics to Jeno’s ski trip. Mark also filled Donghyuck in more on the demons, on Johnny and some guy named Jaehyun (“He lives really close to me. But he still never lets me drop by? It’s so funny. He’s so funny. No, he’s not, actually. He’s not funny.” Mark had said, to which Donghyuck could only laugh, confused but amused).

“You should get water or something,” Donghyuck beamed at Mark, watching him catch his balance. Mark’s face was flushed, his drunken state giving him permanent blush. His hair was mussed – his own doing, this time.

“Now that’s a good idea,” Mark hummed, tapping the side of his nose, then pointing at Donghyuck, “Smart. College.”

“College?” Donghyuck repeated, dubious. He took another measured sip of his drink. It tasted so good. So sweet, with just an edge of sour to it. It had stained Mark’s lips cherry red and Donghyuck kept thinking about leaning forward and tasting them.

“Mm-hm,” Mark hummed, before turning around and starting for the bar. As he walked towards it, Donghyuck could hear him mumbling to himself about college.

“That didn’t explain anything,” Donghyuck attempted to protest, though he was interrupted by his own laughter partway through.

“It did,” Mark’s said, almost a whine, as he walked back, “You just weren’t listening hard enough.”

Donghyuck felt so loose. He felt melted, felt the need to reach out and – touch. He clasped onto Mark’s shoulder and pulled him close.

“Whoa,” Mark said, then, “Hi.”

His face suddenly close enough to Donghyuck’s that Donghyuck could see the finest details of it. His wide eyes were framed with dark lashes. Donghyuck felt something drip onto his hand, as the sudden movement sloshed some water over the rim of Mark’s cup. Mark’s free hand grappled at Donghyuck’s waist in a hold that was too tight at first, as he caught his balance. It loosened, though, and went featherlight.

“Hi,” Donghyuck replied, as a grin grew across his face.

He carefully navigated the bottle of liquor between them, turning his head to the side to take a sip straight from it. Mark’s breath hitched, the sound of it audible in the deserted bar. Donghyuck smiled around the mouth of the bottle.

By the time he lowered it and looked back and Mark, Mark’s expression had shifted from surprise. His eyelids had lowered. He looked at Donghyuck as though he was hungry. Starving, his eyes dark as twin voids beneath his lashes.

“This stuff is really good, actually. You were right. The drinks are better in Hell,” Donghyuck spoke, fully aware that it was probably the last thing on Mark’s mind.

Sure enough, Mark’s sole response was a vague head nod.

Donghyuck laughed, light. He took one last glance at the bottle before he set it down. Then raised his hand, and his other, and settled his wrists on Mark’s shoulders. He didn’t know what game he was playing. He’d been waiting even longer than Mark had for this kiss.  

And yet.

He almost liked that he inched closer, only a small bit, and Mark’s grip on his waist tightened in response. He almost liked the irregularity in Mark’s breathing, the small, frustrated gasp as Donghyuck brushed his lips up against Mark’s, only to pull away.

“You called me baby this morning,” he murmured. He’d been thinking of it all day and had a sudden desire to let Mark know that he knew.

Mark blinked, slow.

“Did I?” he responded eventually. Mark took the opportunity to sneak closer and attempt to steal another kiss, after he spoke.

“You did,” Donghyuck pressed his lips together and pulled back again. He slid one hand towards him, and down. He pressed his palm against Mark’s chest, holding him in place, as he asked a question with a smile.

“How long have you been calling me baby? Be honest.”

“I can’t. ‘S embarrassing,” Mark murmured. He still sounded distracted, but his brow had furrowed. He gazed so intently at Donghyuck’s lips to Donghyuck couldn’t even think of a reply. Mark shifted, leaning in closer. He raised his hand. Donghyuck’s breathing slowed, as Mark pressed his thumb to the corner of Donghyuck’s mouth.

He drew his thumb across Donghyuck’s bottom lip, slow and gentle. Donghyuck’s heart was racing. Mark’s gaze flicked up from his lips, finally, as he finished tracing Donghyuck’s bottom lip.

Something in Donghyuck’s gaze seemed to shake Mark from whatever trance he’d been in. He blinked, his eyes widening.

“You spilled a little.”

Donghyuck’s mind wasn’t working well enough to summon up a reply. Nothing but sheer static filled his brain as he went, “Oh. Right.”

As he spoke, his lips brushed up against Mark’s thumb, which was still resting at a corner of his mouth. Mark’s eyes widened further, before dropping again to Donghyuck’s lips. He started to withdraw his hand.

“Wait,” Donghyuck asked.When Mark paused, he repeated it more softly, “wait.”

Donghyuck drew his other hand back to bracket Mark’s own. He guided it back to where it had been only moments before, pressing Mark’s thumb back to his parted lips. Donghyuck didn’t know what overtook him. He just watched Mark watch him, as he sucked the remaining liquor off from the pad of Mark’s thumb. Sweet, but not overly so. Fruity, a touch sour. Mark inhaled, uneven.

Donghyuck lowered Mark’s hand once he was done cleaning it. Donghyuck smiled, pleased at the deep rosy flush that had bloomed across Mark’s cheeks. Mark’s gaze flicked up from Donghyuck’s lips to his eyes. As soon as they made eye contact, Mark seemed to break from a daze.

“Alright. Enough waiting,” Mark exhaled, before surging forward, and capturing Donghyuck’s lips. Donghyuck’s eyes slid closed, as Mark pinned him against the pool table.

Donghyuck’s tailbone ached but he hardly noticed, not as Mark’s tongue, hot and wet, passed through his lips. It was a messy kiss, with teeth clashing against teeth. Mark pulled his hand out of Donghyuck’s.

He reached forward and pushed his hand through Donghyuck’s hair, cradling the back of Donghyuck’s head. Donghyuck righted himself and, as he did, he felt the tug of Mark’s fingers twisted in his hair. It was all he could do to stand up, to stay leaning against the table.

The temptation to lean forward and simply melt against Mark was too high. Mark tasted of the liquor, fruity and sweet. Donghyuck inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of cigarette smoke that permeated The Maw.

Donghyuck broke apart. He felt Mark’s breath hit the side of his cheek, tousling his hair in hot exhalations as he angled in and pressed a kiss to Mark’s neck. He felt Mark’s muscles tense and jump as he kissed him again, softer than the first one, more languid.

Mark angled his head, exposing more of his neck. Donghyuck’s glanced up to him. He took in Mark’s parted lips, as he dragged in air, and his lashes, fanned across his cheeks. Donghyuck let out a laugh, unable to contain it, before leaning back out.

He flicked out his tongue to taste, curious. He hadn’t known what he’d been expecting – but all he detected a slight salty taste. Mark’s scent was overwhelming, the struck match. More notable was the way Mark’s breath hitched, the way he trembled under Donghyuck’s lips. Donghyuck had to smile as he laid another kiss, lower.

He raised his hand to the side of Mark’s head. With his thumb, Donghyuck traced the line of Mark’s ear, all the way to its pointed tip. Because Mark was pressed flush against Donghyuck, Donghyuck could feel his chest jumping and falling with every inhalation and exhalation.

“Your demon friends won’t judge you if you’re a little marked up, will they?” Donghyuck murmured against Mark’s skin, only just reminding himself that he ought to ask. He wanted to give Mark a taste of his own medicine, and waiting was making him impatient.

“They really don’t have any room to judge me,” Mark responded, after a long moment, “Go wild.”

Though his voice was nearly wrecked, it still gave Donghyuck pause. He hesitated, just a moment, thinking of where he was, who he was with, how long it had taken him to get here. He nipped at Mark’s neck, right on a plane lit rosy red by The Maw’s neon signs.

“Fuck,” Mark exhaled, low, so close to Donghyuck’s ear. Donghyuck’s heart was thrumming. He started to suck the first lovebite onto Mark's neck.

“Fuck,” Mark repeated, when Donghyuck moved lower.

He trailed kisses in a line down his neck, all the way until his lips brushed up against Mark’s collarbone. Donghyuck looked up, gauging Mark’s reaction. Mark’s eyes were closed. His touch on Donghyuck’s waist and on the back of his head kept shifting. His grip tensed and forcibly relaxed with every new contact of Donghyuck’s lips on his skin.

“Fuck,” Mark hissed, when Donghyuck bit him, hard.

Donghyuck wondered if that was the only word Mark could recall. He wondered it distantly, as he lost himself in his task at hand.

When they finally convinced themselves to leave The Maw, Donghyuck was the first out the door. He raced back to Mark’s apartment, letting Mark chase him. He only looked back a few times if he was unsure of which direction to take. The souls in the streets barely paid them any mind as they darted around them, around street corners, as Donghyuck’s feet kicked up spray from sooty water puddles.

It felt like an entire world, just for them, lit only by crimson street signs and starlight.

Mark only caught him when they finally reached Mark’s apartment, only after Donghyuck had raced up the stairs. He encircled Donghyuck from behind in an embrace and Donghyuck curled over, laughing breathlessly. His stomach ached from laughing nearly all the way back from The Maw.

“Okay… why?” Mark spoke slowly, punctuated by dragging breaths. Donghyuck resisted the urge to laugh at him.

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck spoke honestly, “Why not?”

Mark looked resigned, as he drew back from Donghyuck to open the apartment door.

“Can’t fight that logic,” he sighed, but Donghyuck caught a glimmer in his eye.

“Now you’re learning,” Donghyuck said, approving. He skirted around Mark and strode straight to the bedroom.

Mark laughed, loud and unburdened. His whole body shook with it, as he followed Donghyuck.

“Who needs college?” Mark snickered, “I have Lee Donghyuck to teach me.”

Donghyuck hummed in approval, as he flopped onto the bed. He pulled his boots off, then reclined. He leaned back and eyed Mark as he joined him on the bed.

“Cuddle with me?” Donghyuck asked, out of the blue.

It was just that Mark looked soft. It was as if he’d carried the rose and violet lights from The Maw with him out into Hell. It was if the rest of the room was softly hued in his presence. Or maybe that was just Donghyuck’s perception of it, maybe that was just the way the world would always look now that Mark was back in front of Donghyuck.

“Cuddle?” Mark repeated, his voice pitched up an octave. He made no move towards Donghyuck. He seemed frozen in place.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck smiled, slow and lazy. He moved past Mark, to the bed’s pillows. He looked around him, at the soft comforter rucked up underneath him, at the soft pillows at his back. He turned his gaze to Mark, to find him looking at Donghyuck.

“I – okay. If you want.”

Mark shifted and moved over, joining Donghyuck. Donghyuck tucked his head into the crook of Mark’s neck, where he could see a smattering of blushed spots spanning the length of it. Even in Mark’s dimly lit bedroom Donghyuck could see the dots of broken blood vessels under Mark’s skin. He could tell that there’d be a mess on Mark’s neck come morning.

Donghyuck almost felt bad. Almost. He leaned in, and pressed a gentle kiss to one of the angriest spots. Mark’s hand carded through Donghyuck’s hair. He played with it as they lay there, not saying much as at all, just listening to each others’ heartbeats.

Donghyuck was on the edge of nodding off, as he heard it.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

☾

“Oh shit,” were the first words out of Donghyuck’s mouth when he awoke, followed by a disbelieving, stunned laugh.

“What is it, baby?” Mark mumbled, not yet opening his eyes. He raised his hand to stifle a wide yawn.

Donghyuck tamped down the fluttery feeling within him at Mark using the name again, seemingly automatically.

“Promise not to kill me when you get a look at yourself in the mirror?” Donghyuck asked. That finally seemed to rouse Mark. He blinked his eyes open, slowly. Donghyuck felt a surge of warmth even though now he’d risen out of Mark’s arms the chilled air was surrounding him.

Mark curled over, rubbing his eyes, looking bleary. His hair was in complete disarray.

“Kill you?” he resounded.

Donghyuck pressed his lips together to keep from laughing again. Now that Mark was sitting up, the damage he’d wrought was even clearer. He didn’t know if he was actually amused or just baffled enough that it was the only response he could muster up.

Mark fingered his neck in something akin to awe, though. Donghyuck watched him examine the mess of purplish bruises forming a wicked constellation across his skin. He looked up and caught Donghyuck’s eye in the mirror.

“You said a little marked up…”

Donghyuck had to raise his hand to his mouth to muffle his laugh, unable to hold it from bursting out anymore.

Mark asked Donghyuck if he’d like to go and see one of the shows he’d talked about in his letters. They had a few hours before Mark had to go work his shift at The Maw.

Donghyuck still wasn’t quite sure what he was in for, but he trusted Mark, so he nodded. All he borrowed from Mark that day was a t-shirt. It was a bit too big, maybe – but he tucked it into his jeans.

Donghyuck knew he was in for a treat when Mark took him across the street from Mark’s apartment. He led Donghyuck to the building that was responsible for the neon lights that flooded every inch of Mark’s apartment red. The posters plastering the brick walls underneath the signs advertised eternal shows, with ‘the most beautiful souls in the city’.

On the poster nearest to Donghyuck, there was a semi transparent couple snaked around each other. Both of them were scantily clad, the man in red and the woman in black. They looked more as if they were in the midst of an embrace and moments from kissing, than in the middle of a performance.

Donghyuck turned from the poster to grin at Mark, his expectations mounting.

“What is this?” he asked, coy.

“Dancing,” Mark responded, grinning back at Donghyuck. He ushered Donghyuck through the building’s doors, offering only a nod at the soul minding the ticket booth before passing by him.

“Dancing?” Donghyuck repeated, as Mark led him through a dimly lit lobby.

Immediately beyond the doors amber lights took over for crimson, casting a golden glow on the ornate patterned walls and the columns of carved wood. Donghyuck looked around the room in awe, wondering what time period it belonged in. It looked older than anything he’d seen so far.

“We don’t have much for entertainment down here,” Mark admitted in an almost sheepish tone. He pushed open a set of double doors that led out into what looked to be an old fashioned theatre. There were rows and rows of black velvet seats that were dotted with souls. They conversed loudly, speaking easily despite the disparate clothes they wore that revealed them to be from different time periods entirely.

“This is so cool,” Donghyuck spoke in a hushed tone without realizing it.

His gaze darted around the auditorium, to its high ceiling. If he squinted, he could make out a painting in the center. A night sky, dotted with stars that almost seemed to twinkle in the dim lighting.

Donghyuck stared at the stars for a beat, wondering. His thoughts drifted back to Mark’s aside the other day, where he’d mentioned that the stars in Hell weren’t stars. Donghyuck frowned at himself, then shook his head. He forced his gaze back to Mark.

“This has been across from your apartment this whole time?” Donghyuck asked, letting his shock bleed through his words. Nothing in Hell seemed to be as it appeared. Mark’s nerves fell from his features, and a grin broke out across his face. He nodded.

“Come on,” he then said said, “Follow me. We get to sit in a box.”

Donghyuck smiled at the touch of reverence in Mark’s voice. As though even he was still awed at the theatre, at getting to sit in a box, though he must have been coming here for years.

The show was unlike anything Donghyuck had ever seen before. He imagined it was some kind of fusion between ballet and burlesque. The dancers onstage moved nimble, light, but there was a tone to their movements. There was an aura that made every graceful move sensual, especially when they danced in duos. Their clothes weren’t much to speak of – skintight threads over fishnet stockings. But it wasn’t their attire that got the crowd to respond.

The audience of souls reacted with hoots and hollers when a woman with hair the color of freshly fallen snow bent herself into impossible positions with a sultry smirk fixed on her face. Donghyuck clapped instead, in awe of her flexibility.

“Yuta took me to one of these, maybe a year after I… you know,” Mark spoke softly, though the orchestral music surged loud and the sound of percussion filled the theatre.

“Yuta?” Donghyuck couldn’t bury his surprise. He thought of what he knew of the demon – that he was asshole, perhaps even evil. That was the extent of it.

“I told you he’s not all bad,” Mark said, as if reading Donghyuck’s thoughts. He grinned a lopsided grin, “But I thought I was in for another trick when he asked me to join him, if I’m being honest.”

Donghyuck allowed a small smile at that. He still didn’t get how Mark could joke about being tricked out of his soul. He wondered if he would ever understand. But he supposed it didn’t matter if he found Yuta’s actions inexcusable if Mark had long forgiven him.

“So both of you are into this kind of thing...” Donghyuck’s eyes strayed back to the stage, to the dancers with their rhythmic, almost nonsensical grace.

“What about the rest of the demons?” Donghyuck looked back to Mark. He was torn between watching the dancing and watching Mark’s reaction to it.

Mark’s gaze lowered to the floor. A fond smile toyed with his lips.

“They like it alright. My boss – .”

“Taeyong?” Donghyuck confirmed, and Mark shot him a curious look.

“Yeah, Taeyong. He probably likes the shows the most after Yuta. You’d never catch him onstage, though.”

It took Donghyuck a moment, especially with the music swelling in the background, the pounding of a drum quickening and the dancers’ moves matching it beat for beat.

“Wait – does that mean – are you saying Yuta dances here?”

Donghyuck tried to picture the demon, who he’d always imagined as some vague villain figure in dark robes up until that moment, wearing the clothes the dancers wore – the fishnets, the makeup. Dancing and baring himself for souls to cheer at.

“He’s not here now but… sometimes, yeah,” Mark said, with a laugh, his eyes crinkling up, “He’s not half bad, either.”

“I should hope so,” Donghyuck replied automatically, looking on the show anew with the knowledge that evil demons sometimes participated in it, “He’s probably had a lot of time to practice… wait,” a thought struck Donghyuck and he turned to Mark. With glee, he asked, “Have you ever performed?”

“No!” Mark replied immediately, “Nope. Definitely not.”

A pout rose to Donghyuck’s lips.

“But you’d look so good dressed like that. Oh, and dancing like that!”

It seemed to take Mark a long moment to gather his thoughts. His eyes flicked over Donghyuck’s shoulder to the performance going on behind him. Donghyuck’s felt that kind of rush that only came when he managed to make Mark flustered, as Mark bit his lip. His eyes drifted back to Donghyuck.

“I – what? I can’t dance, Donghyuck,” Mark ignored the part about the clothes completely. Donghyuck’s pout had already vanished, though.

“It’s never too late to learn!” Donghyuck reasoned, purely to provoke another reaction from Mark.

Mark stared at Donghyuck a second longer. His eyes reflected the yellowed lights, looking like burnished bronze and Donghyuck had to remind himself that the show was going on, that there were souls in just below. He couldn’t get lost in Mark right then.

“Yeah,” Mark said, after a moment.

“You’re right,” he said, before shaking his head. He raised his arm to the box’s ledge. He rested his chin on his hand before gazing out at the show, “Maybe you can join me and we can learn together.”

Donghyuck wouldn’t mind that, he thought. He followed Mark’s lead, and looked back to the performance below. The dancers were coalescing, intersecting in a formation that had to have taken ages to practice but looked natural as breathing to them.

“As long as Yuta isn’t teaching us, I don’t see why not,” Donghyuck agreed lightly, prompting another snorting laugh from Mark.

After the show, Donghyuck accompanied Mark to the bar again. He’d gone with a drink suggestion from Eddie this time, and he was regretting it immensely. The drink looked like oil, a murky black that glinted opalescent in the bar’s dim lights. It also burned like fire with every sip Donghyuck drew, no matter how small. Mark warned him off from drinking it, saying that even he had trouble handling it. But Donghyuck was committed. He’d ordered it. He’d finish it – and he’d hate every second of it.

It didn’t matter, what he was drinking. It lay mostly forgotten on the bartop as Donghyuck flirted up a storm again with Mark, hoping it wasn’t too much to dream of a repeat of the night before. Mark was trying his best to offer responses to Donghyuck’s quips, but he was no match for Donghyuck in his element.

Donghyuck felt a little bad whenever Eddie shot unsure looks their way. Not bad enough to stop, though. Donghyuck tried to coax old phrases from Mark, trying to figure out what he could’ve said to pick Mark up if they’d somehow both lived in the 1930s. At first, he thought Mark was holding back from telling him. Donghyuck shifted to gentle teasing as he realized that Mark genuinely didn’t know how people had flirted back then.

Mark at least got a laugh out of that.

“Donghyuck, if you keep asking about my past, you’re just gonna find out what a loser I used to be,” he warned him, his eyes twinkling.

“Used to be?” Donghyuck asked, innocently. Mark looked as though he was moments from whining, though, so Donghyuck relented. He offered to tell Mark stories of his own past, to show he was probably just as bad.

He was in the middle of recounting how he’d had a friend group with four girls in it in middle school and, yet, had somehow ended up being the only guy in their grade who wasn’t asked to their schools’ Sadie Hawkins dance when Mark’s expression abruptly changed. He stopped laughing, his mouth snapping shut.

Donghyuck fell silent himself, as he watched Mark’s eyes focus in at some point over his shoulder.

“Shit,” he hissed, dropping his eyes. Donghyuck hardly had time to register the change before a man walked up to the bar, standing only inches from where Donghyuck was seated.

“Flirting with customers, Mark? That’s not very professional,” the voice was rich and smooth and unfamiliar. It shouldn’t have made Donghyuck’s blood run cold, but it did all the same, for the way Mark had reacted to its owner.

There wasn’t any use in acting like he and Mark hadn’t been talking before. Donghyuck glanced to the man. He was facing Mark, but as Donghyuck turned to look at him, he tilted his head Donghyuck’s direction. The man had a bright, wide smile, but his fangs were what caught Donghyuck’s eye. His sandy hair was slicked back, showing off his pointed ears. He had dimples dotting his cheeks, somehow making him no less intimidating.

“Flirting with a soul? Your taste keeps getting worse and worse,” another voice came, from Donghyuck’s other side.

It was saccharine sweet, and soft as cotton candy. Donghyuck restrained himself from whipping his head to the side. He turned slowly, schooling his features into impassivity as he came face to face with yet another demon. This demon’s smile was close lipped, but the tips of his ears poked through his shaggy brown hair. He was leaning backwards against the bar.

Donghyuck caught the demon’s eyes flit over his figure as he scanned Donghyuck from head to toe.

“He’s lovely, though,” the second demon hummed, his lips curling up into a small smile, “I’ll give you that.”

Donghyuck nearly choked. He hadn’t thought there was anything worse than being hit on by frat guys, but he’d been wrong. Again. He bit down his instinctive response – “fuck off” – and looked to Mark. He wasn’t sure how to react to the demon, or if he should react at all. He’d follow Mark’s lead. Mark glanced at him, then back to the demons. There was tension clear in his frame, in the set of his shoulders.

“Are you two going to order anything anytime soon?” Mark smiled, as though completely unfazed. But he wasn’t. Donghyuck knew him better than that. He knew him, at least enough to know that Mark was more bothered by the second demon’s words than he let on.

“Or are you just gonna keep being dickheads?” Mark continued, with a pointed look at each of the two demons.

Donghyuck felt something unclench from his heart. He wasn’t sure he could breathe easy yet, though.

The first demon let out an almost startled laugh.

“Ouch,” he said, without venom. The other demon spun around, sending a waft of an almost intoxicating floral scent Donghyuck’s way. Perfume, perhaps.

“Oh dear. I’m sorry, Mark,” the second demon said. He cocked his head as he gazed at Mark, “We were only joking.”

Donghyuck buried the thought that immediately sprung up, that maybe they’d lost touch with humor after being stuck in Hell so long, that their jokes needed a lot of work. He saw the second demon's eyes fall lower from Mark's face, to his neck and – shit, Donghyuck had forgotten about the lovebites he'd left all over Mark. The second demon's eyes glinted coolly, and Donghyuck sunk in his seat. He looked away, fearing that he might begin to noticeably blush if he watched the demon's reaction any longer.

“What are you having?” the first demon said.

It took his hand dropping on Donghyuck’s shoulder for Donghyuck to realize the question had been directed at him. He jumped automatically at the weight of the demon’s hand on him. His eyes flicked to it, then to the demon’s face. Donghyuck was quiet for a moment, still processing.

“I don’t know, but it tastes like crap,” he said, before his mind had managed to catch up to his mouth, “I’d order something else, if I were you.”

“Huh,” the demon’s smile looked a tad more genuine. His eyes crinkled up, “Alright. Thanks. I’ll just take a shot and a beer, Mark.”

As the demon turned from Donghyuck, Donghyuck noted that there was dark ink designs etched at the base of his neck, disappearing into his shirt collar. He also had tattoos peeking out the sleeves of his shirt, snaked down his wrists.

“One day I’ll convince you to mix it up,” Mark’s smile had also gone natural.

“I’ve had hundreds of drinks over hundreds of years, and nothing’s topped this one yet. It’s simple. It’s a classic.”

“That’s just – so wrong. I don’t even know where to start with that,” Mark said, but he shook his head and laughed. The first demon laughed too, seemingly unhurt, seemingly used to that kind of talk from Mark. Donghyuck felt as if he ought to laugh along with them. He was finally was beginning to breathe easier, now that Mark was starting to seem less tense, but he wasn’t quite ready to laugh along with the demons yet.

“How about you, Jungwoo?” Mark turned with glinting eyes to the second demon. Jungwoo, Donghyuck supposed.

“I’ll also have my usual,” Jungwoo answered, his voice gone even softer.

As Mark turned from them and lifted a bottle of whiskey from the shelves behind the bar, Eddie came by, his arms already reaching for a cocktail shaker.

After Jungwoo and the other demon got their drinks, they seemed to take Mark’s words to heart and left. They started to walk away and Donghyuck wondered, briefly, if they were in the clear. The thought had barely crossed his mind before the two demons slid into the booth right across the thin width of the room from he and Mark. Donghyuck’s shoulders hiked up. He could practically feel their eyes on him.

“You don’t think they – ?” Donghyuck began, in a whisper. Mark drew closer, across the bar. He shook his head, firm, making sure to lock eyes with Donghyuck before he began to speak.

“Nah,” Mark made a face, “At least, I don’t think so. They just seem curious right now.”

Donghyuck and Mark gazed at each other for a spell. Donghyuck attempted to read what was going on in Mark’s mind, if it could possibly match what was going through his.

“Are they going to be here for awhile, do you think?” Donghyuck asked, in a low tone, something buzzing under his skin. Mark’s eyes flitted from Donghyuck’s, to the demons. He let out a light sigh, only perceptible because of how close his face was to Donghyuck’s.

“They might be. If you want, I could walk you back to my apartment – .”

“What I want,” Donghyuck cut in, firm, but with a smile, “is to stay here. I want to get drunk enough that I don’t mind hanging out with a couple of creepy demons.”

Mark blinked, his eyes wide.

“...are you sure?” he asked.

Donghyuck laughed. He tapped his shot glass of strange Hell liquor against the bar top, and raised it to his lips.

“Oh, yeah. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Donghyuck he emptied the glass past his lips, and the liquor burned a path down his throat. He wasn’t going to let himself be scared off by the demons. He’d already managed to make friends with a couple of demons so far. He knew that these two probably weren’t as intimidating as they seemed.

Donghyuck might have had a bit too much to drink. Possibly. He wasn’t shitfaced. Not really. But he was probably pretty near it. He didn’t know how much time had eclipsed between his proclamation to Mark and then. He’d somehow managed to talk his way into joining the demons, and he’d been trying to match the tattooed demon drink for drink since then. In retrospect, not his best plan. And that was saying something. He’d had a lot of bad plans, thus far.

The one good thing that came of it was that he adored Jaehyun now, and he thought there was a chance Jaehyun didn’t hate him either. That was the dimply, tattooed demon’s name, he’d since learned – Jaehyun, the same demon Mark had mentioned lived right across from him.

Donghyuck was relieved at how normal Jaehyun seemed, for lack of a better word. He wasn’t like Johnny. He definitely wasn’t like Jungwoo, who Donghyuck grew more wary of as the night went on. He was easy to talk to, despite all the strange tattoos covering his skin.

Jaehyun’s fingers curled around a poolstick. His knuckles were inked dark with symbols and sigils that Donghyuck found almost chillingly familiar. He giggled at them, though, the moment he realized where he recognized them from – his spellbook.

“Why are you laughing, soul?” Jaehyun asked, his eyes flicking up from the poolstick, a corner of his lip tugged up in a crooked smile.

“Your tattoos,” Donghyuck answered, probably a touch too loud – he’d switched to the drink Jaehyun had ordered, done with the weird Hell liquor that burned a touch too hot when swallowed. Jaehyun’s drink was bland and boring, but it did the job, apparently.

Jungwoo let out a light, tinkling laugh and Donghyuck was reminded of his presence. He glanced to him. Jungwoo was leaning against the pool table, his features schooled into vague contentment. His fingers were curled around the neck of a martini glass filled with a beverage that was a dusky blue and swirled throughout with pigment that glittered gold when it caught the light, whenever Jungwoo raised the glass to his lips to take a sip.

“Even the soul thinks they’re a bit much, Jae,” Jungwoo’s voice was a soft murmur, but it carried over the pool table.

Donghyuck shook his head vehemently.

“What? No. They’re awesome…. I was just wondering about why you picked those symbols. Is it because they help you with your magic or something?”

Jungwoo and Jaehyun both went quiet. It took until Jaehyun opened his mouth, with his eyes glinting from amusement, before Donghyuck would realize the reason why.

“You’re kind of different from most souls,” he said, and finally Donghyuck’s sluggish, alcohol addled mind realized that it may not have been the best idea to bring up magic at all.

“Maybe that’s why Markie’s taken an interest in you,” Jaehyun smiled as he looked on Donghyuck more carefully. The pool game was forgotten. Jaehyun’s pool stick was laying on the table as he peered at Donghyuck with renewed curiosity.

“Markie?” Donghyuck repeated. He knew there were other things to worry about but that had caught him off guard more than anything that day. Markie … he thought, with glee, already imagining how he could use that.

He snuck a glance Mark, wondering if Mark was often called Markie by the other demons, finding it helplessly endearing. But, just as he looked, Mark’s eyes flitted over to him.

The corners of Mark’s lips curled up in a soft smile. It was the kind of smile that Donghyuck was coming to realize he’d never seen Mark direct towards anyone but him. It was warm, and fond, and a little helpless.

Mark’s eyes reflected the rosy neon lights, and Donghyuck felt something clench at his heart. Mark was probably completely unaware that Donghyuck had just stuck his foot in his mouth and gotten the demons a little too interested in him.

But, God, Donghyuck couldn’t let himself dwell on that, even though he probably should have. Mark’s smile looked even nicer with the lights smeared over it. His smile was everything. Donghyuck didn’t want to worry him. He’d try harder, he thought, with renewed determination.

He smiled back, and Mark made a face at him response. He scrunched up his nose, making his distaste at having to work while the rest of them hung out and played evident. Donghyuck let out a light laugh, and Mark’s pout was already gone – his smile was back. It had turned into a grin spreading wider and brighter across his face.

“Oh. This is fascinating,” Jungwoo’s soft voice laid on top of Donghyuck’s inner monologue, interrupting his thoughts.

“You know, he’s getting over a broken heart,” Jungwoo continued, and Donghyuck’s smile froze on his face. He looked at Jungwoo, wondering what that could possibly mean, why Mark would be getting over heartbreak.

Jungwoo drew around the pool table, in a slow stride, but he was by Donghyuck’s other side in moments. He gestured towards the bar with his glass of that cosmic drink, its blue surface glinting as he moved it through the air.

“Only a few weeks ago, our Mark went and fell in love with a human. He even broke the human’s curse, even though he knew he’d get in a lot of trouble for it. Isn’t that silly of him?” Jungwoo spoke lightly, as Donghyuck was filled with an iced sensation, one he thought he’d long left behind.

Oh, he thought. Me, he thought. I’m the one who broke Mark’s heart.

Donghyuck was suddenly confronted with the fact that Mark might have felt just as awful as him in the wake of their separation. Only, it seemed that his friends had actually noticed.

Jungwoo’s gaze was sharp, and shrewd. It felt as if he saw too much of Donghyuck, as he  raised his glass and surveyed him over the top of it.

“You look upset,” Jungwoo observed.

Donghyuck’s tongue felt thick, heavy. He was being tested, he knew it. He struggled to think of a proper response. He had thought it would be easy to pose as a soul – they were just people, after all. Or, at least, former people. But if Jungwoo thought something was up, then apparently Donghyuck hadn’t been doing as well as he’d hoped.

“You’re telling the guy he’s just a rebound. Of course he’s going to be a little bummed,” Jaehyun snorted.

Donghyuck only just caught himself from letting out a sigh of relief. There was a reason why Jaehyun was his new second favorite demon. Third favorite? He definitely ranked above Yuta and Jungwoo. Johnny was tough competition, though.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck said, a touch too loud. He reached for Jaehyun’s glass, given that he’d already drained his own. He took a sip that lasted seconds, then lowered the glass to say, “Fuck the living. What a jerk.”

“Hear, hear,” Jaehyun said, before prying the glass from Donghyuck’s hands.

Without thinking about it, Donghyuck pouted, unduly upset at having the glass taken away from him. Jaehyun blinked. He looked at the glass, then back up to Donghyuck. Then, without another moment of deliberation, he passed it back to Donghyuck.

“I’ll just… get another. Give me a sec,” and then Donghyuck was left confused, as Jaehyun left for the bar, leaving Donghyuck alone with Jungwoo.

Donghyuck stood there, taking small sips of the beer to pass the time, feeling awkward and unmoored. Jungwoo exhaled in something approaching a laugh, all of a sudden. He reached out, after a moment, and drew his fingers across the black fabric lining the pool table.

“I suppose Mark’s just weak for your sort, with your rounded edges and soft smiles,” Jungwoo said. It took Donghyuck a moment to realize that Jungwoo must have simply been thinking aloud, sharing his conclusion with Donghyuck.

There was a touch of something there, in his voice. A note of something other than sheer composure. Donghyuck’s heart stuttered as his eyes flicked over Jungwoo’s face, lingering on the points of Jungwoo’s fangs, lingered over the tips of Jungwoo’s ears. Donghyuck could hardly believe it, that Jungwoo seemed to think the only reason Mark liked Donghyuck was that he wasn’t a demon.

The idea filled his mouth with a bitter taste. He told himself that it was better than Jungwoo realizing that Donghyuck was just the very same human who’d broken Mark’s heart weeks prior, though.

“Yeah. He probably hasn’t gotten used to the idea of dating someone with fangs, yet, y’know? Takes at least a century to get used to something like that,” Donghyuck didn’t even know what he was saying. He fumbled a bit over the longer words, and had to cover up his mistake with another quick sip of Jaehyun’s drink.

Jungwoo’s let out another light laugh.

“Lovely and funny,” he said, “I hope you stick around awhile.”

Donghyuck forced himself to join Jungwoo and laugh, though it came out a bit higher than natural. He cast his gaze from Jungwoo, back to Mark and Jaehyun. He took a long sip of beer, wondering what the hell that could have meant. Weren’t souls around forever?

“How bad was it?” Mark asked, as they began the walk back to his apartment.

Donghyuck felt overwarm and fuzzy, just the right side of too drunk. He barely stifled a yawn and Mark looked on him in amusement and fondness, intermingled. That warm look he reserved just for Donghyuck.

“They’re okay,” Donghyuck mumbled. He shuffled closer to Mark, prodding his arm and hoping he got the message from that alone. Donghyuck was too tired to put the effort in and actually articulate what he wanted Mark to do.

Mark laughed, low. He raised his arm, and Donghyuck lifted it the rest of the way so he could slip underneath and slump up against Mark as they walked. Mark smelled of cigarette smoke, from the bar. It intermingled with his normal scent and prickled at Donghyuck’s nose.

“Jaehyun was nice,” Donghyuck tried again, “He and Johnny‘re the second best demons. Johnny... Jaehyun... they’re tied. But you’re the best. You’re number one.”

“That’s a relief,” Mark laughed again, and Donghyuck heard it reverberate around his ears, “You’re my favorite human, so it would’ve been really embarrassing if I wasn’t your favorite demon.”

Donghyuck already knew he was Mark’s favorite human, but it didn’t hurt to be reminded of it. He wanted to say it again, that Mark was the best demon he’d ever met (though, even drunk, he suspected that wasn’t as big an accomplishment as it sounded). But a gust of wind blew by before he could open his mouth.

Donghyuck shivered and tucked in closer under Mark’s arm. It made walking slower, walking the way they were. It made the time spent in the cold outside even longer. But Donghyuck didn’t mind, not in the slightest. He suspected Mark wasn’t all too bothered by it either. The side of his hip kept bumping up against Mark’s as he walked, as he struggled to stay in a straight line.

“Jaehyun had a lot of cool tattoos. So many. I shouldn’t have said anything about them… but don’t worry! I fixed that,” Donghyuck assured Mark that he hadn’t exposed them. But Mark didn’t actually look all that worried, upon closer inspection. He looked as if he was tempted to laugh again.

“So… you’re okay with tattoos, then?”

Donghyuck was struck by the sudden desire to laugh as well.

“More than okay, Markie,” he sounded out, with a snicker. Mark’s face shifted to horror, and his arm slipped from Donghyuck’s shoulders.

“Who was it?” he asked, “Jaehyun? It had to be Jaehyun.”

“Markie’s really cute,” Donghyuck pouted, upset at the lack of contact. He slowed, and Mark was left backtracking his steps to get draw even with Donghyuck again.

“I was hoping you’d never find out about that,” Mark sighed.

Mark reached for Donghyuck’s hand, and Donghyuck’s pout was gone in a moment. He forced his feet to keep moving again, to be led by Mark to Mark’s apartment, where a warm bed waited for him, and where sleep in Mark’s arms awaited him.

Donghyuck already felt as if he was under the blankets, enveloped and warm, as he gazed at Mark’s profile. His cheeks hurt, he thought vaguely, and only seconds later he realized it was because he kept smiling. It felt as if he’d been smiling ever since he stepped foot in Hell.

If Mark could call him baby, then he could have a special name for Mark too, Donghyuck decided. A word sprang to the tip of his tongue, in an instant. He giggled at himself, simply for thinking of it. He couldn’t call Mark that, surely, Donghyuck thought. But the more he thought about it, the more fitting it seemed.

Mark waited for Donghyuck to go first on the steps for the apartment before walking behind him. Donghyuck might’ve been upset at the coddling, but he figured there was actually a non-zero chance that he would lose his balance and fall. Thankfully, his luck had long since turned. He managed all the steps to the apartment all by himself, without even a hand in assistance.

He waited to say it, waited and waited, the name on the tip of his tongue, trying to fall from his lips. Then Donghyuck was sitting on Mark’s bed, as Mark took Donghyuck’s boot into his lap and started to undo the laces. Donghyuck felt a sense of deja vu as, for a moment, he was taken back to his dorm room. For once he didn’t feel regret for all the missed opportunities. All their mistakes had to be made, after all, or they’d never have ended up here.

The light from the neon signs across the street cast Mark in crimson, turning his face into planes of scarlet and shadowy gray. The lights sharpened his cheekbones, casting them into even greater contrast. They made his pointed ears more prominent. Even the tip of his fang stood out as it poked out over his bottom lip as he concentrated his attention on unlacing Donghyuck’s boots.

He slipped off the boot. Donghyuck was fidgeting, growing restless. He couldn’t wait.

“Mark,” he said, low. Mark looked up at Donghyuck and Donghyuck felt the flutters that seemed like they’d never go away, at that point. Perhaps he’d always feel them around Mark.

“Angel,” the word slipped out. There was abject confusion etched in Mark’s features.

“My angel,” Donghyuck smiled, more sure now that it fit, utterly convinced. He drew his feet off Mark’s lap. He shifted onto his knees, then crawled over to Mark, as comprehension slowly dawned in Mark’s eyes.

“I… me?”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together to hold back a wide grin. He slung his leg over Mark and settled on his lap, before reaching out to him. The tips of his fingers glanced over Mark’s ear, and Mark’s lips parted, just the slightest bit.

“I mean it in the way that you’re beautiful,” Donghyuck explained, speaking slow and deliberate so he could get the words out right, “You’re beautiful and you’re bright and I love you. So you’re my angel, okay?”

Donghyuck trailed his fingers down Mark’s jaw, to his chin. He was both impatient and relishing every instant, all at once. With a light touch, he pushed Mark’s chin up since their gazes were uneven. Right then, sitting on his lap, Donghyuck was maybe an inch or so taller than him.

Mark’s eyes were still wide. As Donghyuck watched uncertainly for a sign, Mark pressed his lips closed. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

“Okay,” he spoke, and he was close enough for Donghyuck to hear the low rumble, the hitch in his voice as he dragged in breath though he had no reason to be breathless.

“Okay, I’m your angel.”

Donghyuck beamed back at Mark. He hadn’t even had to think about it that long. Donghyuck lowered his hand from Mark’s chin. He was feeling so comfortable, so content. He couldn’t wait to kiss Mark. But first, he thought, he would rest a little. He’d just rest his eyes for a second, and then he’d get to kissing him.

But when Donghyuck leaned in, he bypassed Mark’s lips entirely, ending up resting his forehead in the crook of Mark’s neck in a soft thump.

Mark let out an exhalation, a soft, “Oh,” of surprise.

Donghyuck felt a warm touch at the center of his back, stabilizing him. And that was the last thing Donghyuck was aware of, before sleep caught him, and he drifted off.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck wasn’t a stranger to waking up hungover. He wasn’t a stranger to waking up in Mark’s arms. He’d even done both of them at once before. Doing all that in Hell, however, was new.

It took Donghyuck a moment to recall that last part.

There wasn’t any sunshine streaming in through the windows to stoke his already throbbing head. There weren’t shouting students just outside, or furniture being shifted around on the floor above.

Donghyuck felt a little queasy, but not overly so. All he wanted was stay to just where he was. He had no desire to move. Mark was at his back, curled around Donghyuck like they were a pair of commas.

Donghyuck winced as he cracked his eyes open. His ache worsened momentarily, as his head protested to suddenly having to deal with another sense. He looked down to confirm that the familiar feeling of Mark’s arm encircling him hadn’t been imagined.

He glanced back, twisting as far as he was able without shifting and disturbing Mark. He could only see a corner of Mark’s face over his shoulder, just his eyelids laying closed, and his lashes gracing his cheeks. He could see a corner of Mark’s mouth, as it was lifted up in a soft smile.

Donghyuck committed the fragment of Mark’s face to memory, fighting with his eyelids that threatened to fall. He was still mostly asleep, and comfortable as one could possibly be while both hungover and – Donghyuck turned back around, and glanced down to confirm – still wearing skinny jeans. He pressed his lips together and sighed, feeling helplessly fond. At least Mark had taken off his other boot for him, he reasoned.

Donghyuck wanted to stay there forever, until his hangover faded and Mark’s demon friends came knocking (or not knocking, as the case too often seemed to be). They couldn’t. But, Donghyuck thought, a few hours more couldn’t hurt

He raised his hand to lay it over where Mark’s was resting on his waist. He closed his eyes. He let the whispers from the souls in the streets below become a backdrop, let the sound of Mark’s steady, even breathing overtake them. Donghyuck felt the corners of his own lips curl up, as sleep overtook him.

“Donghyuck…”

Donghyuck woke to a familiar voice speaking in an unfamiliar tone. His headache was already starting to lessen. It must have been hours since he had fallen back asleep, but he was still finding it hard to force his eyes open, to fully commit to waking. Sleeping more was tempting.

“...Baby… wake up.”

Donghyuck’s heart flipped. Donghyuck thought on it a moment longer. What draw did sleep have over waking, and spending more time with Mark?

Mark wasn’t at Donghyuck’s back any longer. Donghyuck blinked his eyes open. Mark swam into focus, leaning over from where he stood at the bedside.

“I’m up,” Donghyuck groused, rising, sitting up and stifling a small yawn. The dull ache pounding in his skull surged as he moved, “Ow.”

“Headache?” Mark asked, straightening.

His small smile was growing wider. He looked good, almost unfairly so, in Donghyuck’s opinion. Donghyuck felt like death, and Mark was glowing, backlit by crimson, his eyes and fangs glinting in the light.

Donghyuck nodded wordlessly, reaching for the covers and drawing them aside.

“Are you hungover?”

Donghyuck was already feeling better, already smiling. He looked up at Mark as he slid off the bed, raising his hand to demonstrate a small amount, bringing his thumb and forefinger close to touching.

“A tiny bit,” Donghyuck rose and drew even with Mark, ending up standing closer than he’d anticipated, and not feeling too sorry over it, “Barely.”

Mark’s lips looked enticing, but Donghyuck wasn’t willing to risk kissing him so soon after waking up hungover. He contented himself with flicking his eyes over, taking stock of the hickeys he’d left on Mark. They were starting to turn shades of violet and purple, darkening and standing out in stark contrast to Mark’s skin.

“Johnny came by –.”

“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes snapped up to Mark’s face. He had a lopsided grin, as if he knew exactly where Donghyuck’s gaze had been pointed and what he’d been thinking. He probably did know. Donghyuck refused to blush.

“You didn’t wake me up?” Donghyuck asked, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

He wanted to asked Johnny if he could deliver the letter to Jeno but, if he was being honest with himself, he kind of missed the demon. He was snarky and rude, but Donghyuck had gotten used to seeing him.

Mark explained, in a put upon tone, that Johnny was coming back. Apparently, he’d taken one look in Mark’s refrigerator and had become apoplectic. Mark reported that he’d be coming back soon, with ‘real food’ in tow. From the way Mark emphasized ‘real food’, Donghyuck decided that those had been Johnny’s words, not Mark’s.

Donghyuck’s heart had leapt.

“Real food?” he repeated, already imagining something big and greasy and perfect to settle his stomach with, “Fuck yeah.”

He moved to take a shower, and to rinse himself clean of all traces of the night before.

By the time Donghyuck stepped out from the bathroom, Johnny must have already been in Mark’s apartment awhile. The air outside of the steamy bathroom smelled of frying bacon, sizzling and greasy. After quickly throwing on one of Mark’s shirts and some loose sweatpants, Donghyuck stepped out from Mark’s bedroom, his mouth already watering.

“Smells good,” he announced, before pulling up short.

Mark was the one at the stove, his sleeves pushed up past his elbows, his face pinched and concerned. Donghyuck scanned the room, urgently looking for who he had thought would be at the stove. Johnny was sitting at the armchair, thumbing through what looked like a picture book.

“Good morning, Donghyuck,” Johnny greeted, with a nod.

Donghyuck nodded back, before a hissed, “Oh, shit,” drew his attention back to the kitchen. The smell of cooking bacon had turned a bit, gone charred. Donghyuck’s nose prickled. He glanced back to Johnny, who still looked impassive, as he slowly flicked to the next page of his picture book. Donghyuck decided to take matters into his own hands and started for the kitchen at a jog.

“Whatcha cookin’?” he asked, drawing up behind Mark.

Mark sighed heavily, lifting the pan off from the burner. Donghyuck got a glimpse inside. What had probably formerly been bacon strips were burnt to a crisp, shrivelled and coal black.

“It was supposed to be bacon,” Mark groaned. Donghyuck buried the question that rose to the tip of his tongue – why Mark was cooking to begin with – and nudged him gently aside with the side of his hip.

“Here, let me take care of that,” he offered, and Mark yielded the pan immediately to Donghyuck, as if he couldn’t have waited to get it out from his hands.

Donghyuck laughed, light. He considered lying to Mark and saying he didn’t mind eating it, but Mark’s expression was dismal. Donghyuck doubted he would have believed him.

“Why don’t you go sit by Johnny?” Donghyuck asked, with a smile, going for the trashcan in the cupboard underneath Mark’s kitchen sink, “I’ll cook the rest.”

“But if I go there I won’t learn how to do it right,” Mark sighed.

Donghyuck paused in the middle of leaning over, emptying the contents of the pan into the trashcan. He straightened, glancing at Mark. A century on and he was still interesting in learning.

“Okay,” Donghyuck said, though he was still a little taken aback. He took the pan back to the stove, Mark at his heels.

“Why were you cooking anyways?” Donghyuck asked, when a few new strips were already sizzling in the pan. Mark’s eyes followed Donghyuck’s hands intently, never straying. That is, until Donghyuck blurted out his question.

Mark’s expression shifted from sheer focus to sheepishness.

“Johnny said it’d be nice if I could cook for you.”

Donghyuck’s gaze flicked from Mark to Johnny. Johnny’s gaze darted down, as if he’d been watching them. He had an amused smile playing with his lips. Donghyuck figured he hadn’t said it quite the way Mark had.

“Ah,” Donghyuck replied, smiling too, “Well, thank you. I think Johnny was right about that.”

Maybe he had time to squeeze in one last sentence in his letter to Jeno, Donghyuck thought. He wanted to write about how he was getting attempted romantic breakfasts from his demon boyfriend in Hell. His friends would love that.

“I’ll get it next time,” Mark said, a touch of fiery determination in his voice. Donghyuck laughed.

It didn’t even take a pout to get Johnny to agree to drop by and deliver Donghyuck’s letter to Jeno. Donghyuck gave him the address of the rental ski cabin where Jeno’s family was staying and Johnny smirked.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen snow,” was all he said, “This’ll be nice.”

Mark’s face shifted. Donghyuck caught a low flash in his eyes before he quickly lowered his gaze. It tugged at Donghyuck’s heart. He vowed to ask Mark about it later.

“Your friend won’t freak out if he sees me?” Johnny asked.

Donghyuck had to request that he just drop it off in the mailbox. If Jeno’s parents saw Johnny... Donghyuck shivered. He couldn’t think of how many questions that would raise for Jeno. He wasn’t hoping for a reply back, either. He just wanted his friends to know he’d made it safely. He’d be seeing them again soon enough, though thinking that did more to Donghyuck drag down Donghyuck’s mood than brighten it.

Once they’d eaten their fill and Johnny had left with Donghyuck’s letter, Donghyuck and Mark gravitated back to Mark’s bed. Donghyuck wondered if he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get enough of being close. He wondered if somewhere in the back of Mark’s mind, he couldn’t forget about Donghyuck eventually leaving either.

They were tangled up together, Donghyuck’s leg slotted through Mark’s, Donghyuck’s head tucked into his chest. Donghyuck was playing with Mark’s fingers, tracing them. He was idly thinking that Mark would probably have to redo the paint on his nails soon, wondering if he would let Donghyuck do it for him.

Mark’s other hand was in Donghyuck’s hair, carding through it. Sometimes, the blunt tips of his blunt nails scratched Donghyuck’s scalp, sending tingles down his spine.

“How’s that plan of yours going?” Donghyuck asked, although he’d meant to respond to Mark’s question about his studies. Donghyuck’s studies were boring. They didn’t matter. Not like this.

Mark’s hand stilled in his hair. Donghyuck felt Mark’s breathing pattern change, felt the shift in the rise and fall of his chest. Donghyuck held his own breath as Mark took ages to answer.

“I haven’t done much about it yet,” Mark confessed, in a low tone. Donghyuck felt something cold lodge itself in his chest.

“Oh,” he said, trying and failing to keep the disappointment from his voice.

He was desperately trying to see Mark’s point of view. He’d been busy with Donghyuck. He probably hadn’t had time to to do anything about his plan. But that didn’t explain why he was keeping it from Donghyuck. That didn’t explain why he couldn’t clue Donghyuck in.

“I don’t know what I’m more scared of, really,” Mark’s voice was softer. Donghyuck drew back just enough to see his face. Mark was frowning, looking beyond Donghyuck, his gaze pointed out the windows, “Having it work or having it fail.”

That gave Donghyuck pause. Donghyuck moved back from Mark, withdrawing his hand from Mark’s, pulling out of Mark’s reach. Mark blinked as Donghyuck drew away from him. His lips parted and his brows pulled together, in confusion.

“Is this plan going to get you in trouble again?” Donghyuck asked, the idea occurring to him for the first time. He sat up, as something else occurred to him. He felt sick, “Is it going to get you hurt?”

Mark paused. He paused for too long. The cold ache in Donghyuck’s chest worsened. His face must have done something awful, because Mark rose in a panic. He shook his head, vehemently.

“It shouldn’t,” Mark said, which was hardly comforting.

Donghyuck bit his lip. Mark’s eyes glinted and reached out and laid his hand on Donghyuck’s cheek. The rough, familiar sensation of his palm coaxed Donghyuck out from the sickened feeling that was starting to fill him. He let himself relish in the comforting feel of it, let himself lean into it.

“It won’t,” Mark said, and Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he should believe him, “I think it’d hurt worse if I didn’t do it, if I’m being honest.”

Donghyuck sighed. Although he couldn’t help but feel desperately fond, Mark was speaking nonsense to him.

“Why do you have to be so cryptic about this? It’s not fooling me into thinking you’re a cool, mysterious demon, you know? That ship has sailed,” Donghyuck fell back on his usual, on teasing, on lightening the mood. Even though he knew full well that it had been his fault the mood had dropped in the first place.

“As if I’d want you to think I’m cool,” a corner of Mark’s mouth ticked up in a smile, “And I’m not trying to be… what was that word? Cryptic? I just don’t want to get your hopes up.”

Too late, Donghyuck wanted to say.

He smiled, though. He was tired of Mark. He was hopelessly fond of him. He was a little annoyed but, overwhelmingly, he trusted him. He didn’t care enough about Mark’s weird secretiveness to have it sour his mood. Not when they had a limited number of days left.

Donghyuck breathed in, deep. When he exhaled, he imagined he was breathing out all of his doubts. There was one worry that remained, however.

No matter how desperately he tried to ignore it, Donghyuck couldn’t help but think that, if the plan didn’t work, Mark would be the one left sleeping in sheets that smelled of him. Donghyuck would have to leave, and Mark would be the one left with that reminder.

Mark asked Donghyuck where he’d like to go that day – they only had time for one thing before Mark had to go to work.

The options Mark gave him made Donghyuck laugh. An arcade, where Mark warned they might run into his friend Taeil. The other option was what Mark described as a boring classroom. He complained that it was where he’d been ‘trapped’ until he’d committed the basics of being a demon to memory. Donghyuck leapt at the chance to visit a magic classroom, to Mark’s amusement.

“It’s not going to be like Hogwarts,” Mark warned, as if reading Donghyuck’s mind. Donghyuck schooled his face to hide his disappointment.

“Oh. Yeah. Why would it be, right?” he joked, weak.

Mark and Donghyuck walked all the way to the center of the city, where Hell’s tallest skyscrapers stood. They went right to the one that soared above the rest, a building of dark stone that had no business climbing as tall as it did. It was topped with ornate points that jutted into the sky like claws, and Donghyuck almost felt as if he shouldn’t be laying eyes on it. He felt as if he ought to look away.

Before Donghyuck had even asked about it, Mark pointed it out as The Spire, the place where most of the demons lived. They didn’t enter it, though Donghyuck’s eyes kept straying to the massive wooden doors that were cracked open just the slightest bit, revealing a sliver of yellowed light that shone from just within it.

They veered right past the Spire, to an almost unnoticeable small building, built in the same style as the Spire. Donghyuck’s eyes almost slid right past it, where it stood in the shadows of the towering skyscraper nearby. Definitely not Hogwarts.

Though the walk hadn’t felt that long, Donghyuck was nearly out of breath by the time they stopped in front of the building’s wooden door. The door was painted black, and beaded with drops of condensed moisture that caught the ambient crimson light and lit the black lacquer up, as though the entrance itself had been pricked by a thousand little pins.

“Spooky,” Donghyuck shivered, to which Mark laughed.

It wasn’t encouraging how he went, “Yeah, it kinda is.”

Donghyuck caught his breath after Mark pushed the door open with a flourish of his hand and a whispered incantation.

“We’re not going to run into any of your friends here, are we?” Donghyuck asked, suddenly nervous about the prospect of encountering a new demon when in an unfamiliar magic lair. He didn’t know if he had it in him to charm yet another demon into leaving him alone. He was already feeling a little worn out.

The inside of the stone building was lit by dozens of candles, stashed away haphazardly all over. The candles were in corners, in hollowed out holes embedded in the stone walls. There weren’t any windows that Donghyuck could see. No red light streamed in once the door creaked closed behind them.

Donghyuck edged closer to Mark as they walked through the entrance corridor, as their footsteps echoed on stone flooring.

“This feels witchy,” Donghyuck struggled to find the proper words for it.

His breathing came shorter, more shallow. It felt as if there was some sort of force in the room, something other than just air pressing down on them.

“Witchy?” Mark repeated.

Donghyuck scowled at him. Mark had a wide, lopsided grin on his face. His eyes glinted and the flickering candlelight played across his fangs, making them shine in contrast to the shadowed room.

“What’s with the whole –,” Donghyuck waved his hand, “ – aesthetic in here?”

Something shifted, or creaked. There was a sound in the otherwise quiet room and Donghyuck started. He tucked into Mark’s side, still scowling.

Mark had the audacity to laugh.

“I think they just wanted to try and keep the souls from being too curious about it?” he said, and it seemed that was the only explanation he was able to offer.

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, but he stayed close to Mark. He slid his hand down Mark’s waist, taking advantage of their proximity. He might have been a little scared initially, but he wasn’t scared enough to be out of his senses. Donghyuck knew exactly what he was doing as he lowered his hand until his thumb rested on Mark’s belt and his pinkie dipped into the back pocket of Mark’s jeans.

Mark sent him a look and Donghyuck turned his expression into one of innocence, widening his eyes and smiling. Mark sighed, short, but a corner of his mouth tugged up into a grin. He let Donghyuck’s straying hand pass without comment.

“It used to get kind of… hectic when I was practicing. Wait. Let me show you where I learned how to use the basics.”

Mark and Donghyuck walked side by side. Donghyuck’s hand stayed low and Mark allowed it, slinging his arm loosely around Donghyuck’s shoulders. Mark led Donghyuck through one of the first doors they came across in the corridor.

Within it was a small room. There weren’t any windows. Only candles lit the room, reflecting off the damp stones, not reaching the shadows that lay in its farest corners. The few lit spots revealed a stained floor, covered in mysterious splotches in a variety of colors.

Donghyuck drew his hand off from Mark’s backside, suddenly feeling as though he was being watched.

“This was your classroom?” he asked.

There weren’t rows and rows of desks, as Donghyuck had come to expect with the word. There wasn’t a chalkboard. All there was in the way of furniture was a small stool, pushed aside. A table, in a far corner, cluttered with materials and books.

Donghyuck cocked his head at the varied bowls and bottles scattered across the table, at one of the books that was laying open. It looked as though someone had still been in the middle of reading it not too long ago, consulting it, maybe looking through it for instructions. Donghyuck felt his curiosity grow. He stuck close to Mark, though.

“I learned to shadow travel here,” Mark said.

There was a note in his voice, something off. It drew Donghyuck’s eyes from the books stacked atop the table to Mark. Mark’s gaze was distant, focused in the room’s farthest corners.

“This was where I realized that I could go back to Earth, whenever I wanted…” Mark trailed off. His smile returned, but it was a shadow of what it was, moments before, “I just had to say a few words. That was it.”

Mark murmured the Latin phrase the Donghyuck had come to know, the one that meant he’d be disappearing. Donghyuck flinched, despite himself. The thought of Mark vanishing hit him like a shock. Mark didn’t disappear, though. Nothing happened.

His gaze returned to Donghyuck, and his smile grew more uncertain still. It took Donghyuck a beat before he realized what had just happened. Mark had tried to go to Earth. He’d failed.

Donghyuck couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. It was as if Mark speaking those words had stolen his own capacity to speak. Something had lodged itself in his throat, blocking him from uttering anything. He wanted to apologize, again. He’d already apologized… and what good had that done Mark, he wondered. What would that do at this point besides lessen Donghyuck’s own feelings of guilt?

“Where would you go?” Donghyuck asked, finally breaking his silence, “If you could go anywhere… if you were free?”

Mark ducked his head. Donghyuck watched him, concerns swelling, rising, until Mark looked up, his smile broad and lopsided.

“That’s a secret,” he said.

Donghyuck sighed, “There you go again, trying to be cryptic.”

“You know I’m just trying to hide how predictable I really am,” Mark nudged him and Donghyuck felt the tension sap from himself. It felt as though all the air rushed back into the room, into his lungs.

He could breathe easy as they left the room, as they walked from the building.

“You’d go to Canada, right?” Donghyuck teased, light, half expecting Mark to jump and confirm it.

Mark only hummed.

“Something like that,” he said. Donghyuck nearly scowled at him, until he noticed the twinkle in Mark’s eye, the glint that he knew meant Mark was teasing him back.

At the end of the night, after another shift at The Maw spent flirting shamelessly in front of its soul regulars, they ended up back in Mark’s bed.

Donghyuck slid his leg between Mark’s as they kissed lazy and languid, as though they had all the time in the world. They might as well have, for how content Donghyuck felt. Bliss , he thought. He wondered if he ever could tire of this, even if they did it until they fell asleep every night.

Donghyuck moved his hand up from Mark’s waist, pushing up underneath the hem of his shirt. Mark’s skin was burning hot underneath his fingers. Mark hissed against his lips. Donghyuck had to smile. He pulled back, but only just, cracking his eyes open.

“What?” he asked. He began tracing a slow path over Mark’s side with his thumb, running lightly over the bumps of his ribs. Mark shuddered, and Donghyuck could only conclude that it was because of that minute movement, just his touch.

“Your fingers are cold,” Mark’s voice was almost breathless. His gaze rose as Donghyuck slid his hand up the hard line of his torso.

“Whoops,” Donghyuck said, without a hint of remorse.

His hand was stilled as the hem of Mark’s shirt snagged and held him back from continuing to trace his path up. Donghyuck gave up, tiring of that method of provoking Mark. He withdrew his hand, leaving Mark’s shirt rucked up, leaving Mark shivering.

Donghyuck laid his hand on Mark’s neck in a gentle touch, the tips of his fingers barely ghosting off Mark’s skin. Even there, Mark was burning hot compared to himself. Mark’s eyes shot open, and Donghyuck laughed, light.

“Am I making you angry, angel?” Donghyuck teased, unable to help himself.

“Angry’s not the word I’d use...” Mark said, still frowning, looking lost in thought, “You remember that?”

He raised his hand to cover Donghyuck’s own. His rough, warm touch sent Donghyuck’s smirk wider, into a grin.

“Remember what?” he asked, before piecing it together. Mark’s soft, confused expression following what he’d said.

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, feeling a grateful flutter overtake him. He slipped his hand out from Mark’s, only to clasp it, threading his fingers through Mark’s.

“That you’re my angel?”

Donghyuck glanced up from their interlocked fingers. He knew it wasn’t just a trick of the crimson lights, he knew that Mark’s cheeks were blooming a flushed rosy red. Mark blinked, his eyes wide and shining as he gazed up at Donghyuck.

“Yeah,” Mark said, his voice weak, “That.”

“Cute,” he said, an understatement. He was feeling unbelievably, overwhelmingly in love. He’d had no idea Mark would react the way that he was to Donghyuck’s name for him.

Mark made a soft sound of protest at being called cute, and Donghyuck let out a short laugh. He pushed their intertwined hands down to the bedspread, as he angled forward.

Donghyuck laid a light brush of a kiss on Mark’s lips. That small contact provoked another exhalation from Mark, another soft sound, this one of surprise. Donghyuck’s eyes fell closed, and he deepened the kiss. Mark responded immediately, taking in Donghyuck’s lower lip between his teeth.

As he sucked in Donghyuck’s lip, his free hand skated over Donghyuck’s body, tentatively roving over him, his backside, then his waist. His shoulders, then up even higher, until Mark’s hand stopped and stilled, laying in a tender touch on the side of Donghyuck’s face.

Donghyuck drew back, moving to take a breath, but Mark followed him. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t break the kiss, not when Mark’s fingers curled lightly against his jaw. The pads of his fingers were warm where they tickled Donghyuck’s sensitive skin, sending the nerve endings there alight.

He held on until he felt lightheaded, until his lungs protested and he had to break the kiss. Donghyuck withdrew, gasping. The sound of a light thump followed. He cracked his eyes to see that Mark had dropped his head back down onto the pillows beneath him. He was staring up at Donghyuck, his eyes half lidded. Mark’s chest rose and fell as he took deep breaths that matched, and his lips slowly curled up into a lazy smile.

“What is it?” Donghyuck asked.

“I just... you’re mine,” Mark said, unexpectedly.

Donghyuck smiled back, though he didn’t quite get it, not until Mark dropped his hand from Donghyuck’s jaw. Mark’s fingers first alighted on his chest. On his heart, Donghyuck realized. His own heart skipped a beat, thinking of all his promises in all of his letters, of every time he signed his name saying that he’d always be Mark’s.

“Yeah. Always,” Donghyuck said it like it was obvious because, to him, it was. Mark rolled his eyes, the lazy smile staying fixed on his face.

“I was also thinking that you look really fucking hot right now but – scratch that, if you’re just going to make fun of me.”

Mark’s words drew Donghyuck out from his overthinking. All thoughts of forever fled as Mark at that moment, laying down beneath him, overtook them. Donghyuck’s smile returned in full force as he slid forward. He leaned down until his face was mere inches from Mark’s, as he tightened his hold on Mark’s hand.

“You think I’m hot, huh?”

Mark blinked. Then, his eyes flicked down, then back up. Only, he didn’t seem to be bothering to try and hide that he’d glanced at Donghyuck’s lips. In fact, as his gaze lazily roved over Donghyuck’s face, Donghyuck started to grow over conscious of how he might have appeared to Mark at that moment. A heat had begun to bloom in his cheeks. His plan might have backfired, he concluded.

Mark’s eyes finally landed back on his.

“I’m missing my soul, not my sight.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck’s cheeks were burning feverishly warm. The worst part was that Mark wasn’t flinching away. He was staring right at Donghyuck as Donghyuck failed to keep his cool. Donghyuck scrambled to recover, “Thanks. I – .”

Mark cut him off, surging up, closing the space between them. Donghyuck shivered as Mark’s hand curled around the back of his neck, as his fingers, hot against Donghyuck’s skin, dipped under the hem of his shirt.

Donghyuck hummed in pleasure against Mark’s lips. He had an idle thought, before he stopped thinking at all, that the night was shaping up to be better than good. That it was perhaps even becoming one of the best.

☾

“ – never going to let me get up, are you?”

Mark was speaking when Donghyuck surfaced slowly and reluctantly from his slumber. At first, all he was aware of was that Mark’s voice was coming from right by his ear, from right beneath him. He gradually realized that his left arm and leg were sprawled over Mark’s body, his body half over Mark’s. He breathed in, inhaling the long familiar, warm scent of a struck match. Nothing could put him more at ease.

He was comfortable, despite being in a tangle of limbs, despite the fact that his skin felt sticky with dried sweat. His muscles ached, all over. He was still tired.

“Mmph,” Donghyuck opened his eyes, barely, to squint at Mark, “No. Go back to sleep.”

Mark shifted beneath Donghyuck and Donghyuck grumbled again. Anticipating that Mark was about to get up, he tightened his hold on Mark in protest. Mark only lifted his arm though, freeing it. He raised his hand to Donghyuck’s hair. He twirled a lock of Donghyuck’s hair around his finger, seemingly absentmindedly, as he spoke.

“I know the eternal night thing’s tough to adjust to, but you do have to wake up sometime.”

Donghyuck was fighting with his eyelids. They felt immeasurably heavy, and threatened to fall. Mark’s voice was still sleep soft, a murmur, a lull. Mark carded his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair, and he leaned in without a thought, listing his head towards Mark’s touch.

“We can stay here,” Donghyuck protested, drowsiness tugging his voice low, “Let’s just stay in bed for today, angel.”

“I have to go to the bar in a few hours…” Mark started. Donghyuck could already detect his crumbling resistance.

Feeling a yawn coming, Donghyuck raised his hand. Instead of just covering his mouth, he encircled Mark’s wrist and tugged his hand down to cover Donghyuck’s mouth for him as he yawned. Mark made a soft, questioning sound, but he let Donghyuck move his hand around freely.

“That’s hours from now,” Donghyuck pointed out, dropping his hand, and Mark’s with it. His eyelids dropped closed too. His momentary wakefulness was ending.

“Really?” Mark sounded amused, “You’re going to use my hand to – .”

Donghyuck’s exhaustion overtook him. His head dropped back down onto Mark, where he fit nestled right underneath his chin, just right, like they were two puzzle pieces slotting together. Mark sighed.

“Okay. I guess we’re staying in bed for today, then,” Mark said.

He pushed his hand once more through Donghyuck’s hair. Donghyuck was too tired to summon up a proper response to what he’d said, not even a vague hum or a nod. Mark let out a light laugh, his chest rising and falling under Donghyuck, and Donghyuck’s head rising and falling with it.

Mark continued to stroke Donghyuck’s hair, slowly, gently, and Donghyuck was almost tempted to fight sleep, just so he could stay awake and commit the feeling to memory a little while longer. It was better than any dream could have been, Donghyuck thought.

Donghyuck was already half asleep when Mark spoke once more.

“You don’t know what it does to me, when you call me that.”

Donghyuck tried not to tense up, as Mark’s words hit him, as Mark’s fingers stilled in his hair. Donghyuck thought, vaguely, that maybe he should let Mark know he wasn’t asleep quite yet, though the thought passed quickly. The effort of moving seemed too much, and the thought of hearing Mark speak freely was too alluring.

“You don’t know what you do to me…”

Donghyuck squeezed his eyes shut tighter, as he kept from bursting out that Mark was even worse. The promise of meeting up with Mark again had made him open a Hellmouth and leap into Hell, throwing caution to the wind and leaving his friends and family behind.

Mark let out a heavy sigh, his chest depressing and Donghyuck’s head falling with it. Mark began to stroke Donghyuck’s hair again, lightly, working through the tangles and tousles Donghyuck had accumulated during the night.

“I’ll be braver,” Mark murmured, and Donghyuck had to strain to hear his next words, “Like you were for me.”
Donghyuck wished to tell Mark that he wanted Mark as he was. That Mark needed to stop thinking he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t quite following, admittedly. He was very nearly lost.

Mark’s heart was beating steady and slow by his ear and Donghyuck was listening to Mark’s whispering soft spoken words. The wool of sleep was being pulled over his senses.

“I guess it’s only six in the morning where you’re from. Damn, I still need to fix that clock…”

Donghyuck had awoken and showered and realized that his muscles still ached. He still felt off, as if he’d never recovered from his hangover from the day before. He’d stood under the hot water of Mark’s shower longer than usual that morning, letting the water droplets patter against his skin like summer rainfall, warming him through.

When he walked out into the bedroom to find Mark getting dressed, he’d mentioned it.

“I think I’m still hungover,” he’d sighed, as he slid onto the edge of the bed.

“What?” Mark responded, sounding distracted. He was facing away from Donghyuck, pulling up his jeans. Donghyuck snorted.

“Nothing,” Donghyuck could hear the frown in Mark’s voice.

He wondered what he was thinking about. He wondered if it was too much to ask to figure out where they kept the aspirin in Hell. Sure enough, Mark turned around after pulling up his zipper, and the corner of his lips were tugged down.

“You still feel bad?” he asked, as if just realizing what Donghyuck had said. Donghyuck smiled at him, shaking his head. It wasn’t anything worse than he’d ever felt before at college.

Mark’s frown didn’t budge, though. He still looked distracted, as he said, “You don’t need to come to work with me every day, Donghyuck. Y’know, I did have some errands to do…”

“And you want me out of your way?” Donghyuck cut in, amused.

Mark’s mouth dropped open, as his expression shifted from thoughtfulness to regret.

“That’s not what I –.”

“I know what you meant,” Donghyuck grinned.

“It’s a good idea. I think we can survive a few hours apart. I’ll rest up… you’ll do your chores,” Donghyuck scrunched up his nose, “Shit, we’re almost domestic, aren’t we?”

Before he could dwell on how he felt about that, about how easy it felt, sliding into that natural rhythm with Mark, Donghyuck shook his head. He crooked his finger, beckoning Mark towards him. Mark’s brows were drawing together, and one tip of one fang was visible, jutted out over his lips.

“You won’t get bored, will you?” Mark asked. He walked over to the bed, close, drawing up right between Donghyuck’s legs where they dangled over the edge of the bed.

“I’m a little worried you’ll hold a seance or something in my apartment,” Mark muttered, to which Donghyuck laughed, brightly.

“No seances or summonings while you’re out. Promise,” Donghyuck reached up and tugged on Mark’s ear, feeling wistful. His hand fell to Mark’s neck, and his gaze fell with it, “I’ve got enough demons in my life already, don’t worry.”

Mark hummed. His voice was far off as he said, “Okay. Well, Jaehyun’s next door, remember? You could probably ask him to come find me, if you need – .”

“That sentence better end with ‘a spontaneous makeout session’, Mark,” Donghyuck had no intention of making him get into further trouble for missing work, not when he could take care of himself. Donghyuck grinned as Mark’s gaze focused back in on him, as Mark let out a reluctant laugh.

Donghyuck tapped his thumb against Mark’s neck, wondering if he’d get lucky enough to turn a goodbye kiss into something more. Then he angled up, pushing off the bed’s surface in his eagerness. Mark was already leaning in to meet him halfway.

Their lips met, and Donghyuck’s aches faded away. His slight tiredness sloughed off, leaving him frenetic, eager to deepen the kiss. After all, he rationalized, the memory of it would have to be enough to last him until the end of Mark’s shift.

The moment Mark had uttered the Latin phrase and vanished away, Donghyuck’s heart had skipped a beat. He raised his hand to his lips. He let his fingers skirt over them, feeling them, still swollen from Mark’s goodbye kiss, the nerve endings still sensitive.

Donghyuck and Mark hadn’t been out of each other’s sight for days, not since Donghyuck had walked into Hell, and straight into Mark’s arms.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck exhaled, letting out a breath that was starting to linger too long in his lungs.

He shook his head at himself. He forced himself to do something else, something to rid himself of the thought that always remained, that Mark’s presence by his side wasn’t permanent. That one of them would have to depart, sooner or later.

Donghyuck picked through Mark’s bookshelf first. Though the cold of Hell somehow felt even more profound than usual, his core felt warm and sated, as he thumbed through the pages of the obviously well loved books. Their spines were cracked in places, from being opened so many times. Their pages were soft to the touch over years of being flipped over and over again.

There were so many titles Donghyuck recognized, so many books Donghyuck had read himself. Mark seemed to tend towards books aimed towards younger people, though he had some classics interspersed through the children’s and fantasy books, they looked as though they hadn’t been picked up and read nearly as often.

Donghyuck picked up one that was thick, bloated with how many pages had been folded over and dog eared. He had to grin at the title. Journey to the Center of the Earth.

He carried it over to Mark’s bedroom, where he pulled the covers up fast to his chin, curled up in a ball and started to read.

Donghyuck didn’t know when he drifted off again but, when he awoke, it wasn’t to the sound of Mark speaking gently, or to the sound of Mark’s heartbeat, but to high pitched yips that bit at the air. His eyes snapped open and he sat up with a jolt.

Donghyuck’s heart was picking up pace, beating faster and faster as he looked around Mark’s bedroom only to have his eyes fall upon a small puff of fur at the foot of Mark’s bed. A dog. With fur the color of the inky night outside and eyes that glistened an unnerving bloodred.

It stared at Donghyuck, with its bloodred eyes. It was all Donghyuck could do to stare back. But fuck, wait, he thought, weren’t you not supposed to stare at dogs? Especially creepy dogs the color of complete voids aside from deep red eyes.

Donghyuck blinked. The dog yipped at him, again, and Donghyuck tried not to wince. He hoped this was some ridiculous dream. Or nightmare. He couldn’t tell which it would be.

He sat frozen, pinned by the tiny dog’s fierce gaze.

“Ruby, this is why you and I don’t get along,” came a familiar growl from the entrance to the bedroom. Donghyuck gasped, letting out a breath that he’d been holding. His eyes flicked up to his savior.

“Johnny,” Donghyuck greeted, a smile already spreading across his face, “Hey.”

“Hey, kid,” Johnny replied to Donghyuck, but he seemed preoccupied. His eyes went back to the dog at the foot of Mark’s bed, “Down, girl. Get down.”

Donghyuck’s anxiety turned to astonishment, as the dog yipped once more before turning its beady red eyes to Johnny, and vanishing entirely. Donghyuck blinked.

He heard another yip, and the dog was at Johnny’s heels, reappearing out of thin air. Donghyuck screwed his eyes shut. He considered briefly that he might have never woken up, that he might still be sleeping. But, if he thought about it, magical dogs didn’t seem that far out of the realm of reality anymore.

Donghyuck opened his eyes to Johnny leaning down and picking up the dog. It was surreal, watching the tall, imposing figure gently cradle the diminutive fluffy ball of black fur in his hands, a scowl still attached to his face.

“You have a dog,” Donghyuck said, faintly.

Johnny’s scowl deepened, “Ruby’s not mine,” he looked down at the dog, and the dog’s red eyes turned to him, as if sensing his gaze, “Are you, girl?”

The dog – Ruby – yipped at him. It was unnerving, every time she opened her mouth and put her long canines on display, strikingly bright in contrast to the depth of her dark fur.

“I’m just watching her because her dad’s busy.”

“And you decided to dogsit here… why?” Donghyuck still felt half asleep, still felt as though he was in the hazy dream world where things generally didn’t make sense. He was trying to make sense of it, though.

“Knew you’d be lonely,” Johnny said, simply, as he gingerly scratched behind one of Ruby’s pointed ears.

Before Donghyuck could process the reply, Johnny was looking up, his eyes glinting, “What do you say, Donghyuck? Are you alright with Ruby and me staying here for a bit?”

“Uh…” Donghyuck rubbed sleep from his eye with the palm of his hand, before considering the tiny little magic dog in Johnny’s grasp, “Sure. Why not?”

Donghyuck didn’t know how quickly the time could pass, just playing around with Ruby while Johnny reclined in Mark’s arm chair. She wasn’t just any normal dog, Johnny informed him, as if he hadn’t already figured it out himself.

“Yeah, she’s a hellhound,” Johnny said, casually, forcing Donghyuck to reconsider how tenderly he’d been treating the tiny thing. He’d looked down, his hand frozen in her fur, and she’d only looked back up at him and yipped again, as if to tell him he ought to get on with petting her already. Or else. Donghyuck got to petting her.

Johnny told him all the tricks she’d been taught, and all the magic she was capable of, and Donghyuck couldn’t help but look on the little fluffball in awe.

It had taken ages, but Donghyuck finally managed to make her warm up to him. While Johnny filled him in on how he’d managed to deliver Jeno’s letter to his family’s cabin, Donghyuck sat gently, repeatedly stroking Ruby’s soft fur. He figured out that the eye contact thing wasn’t a joke. Whenever Ruby and he made eye contact, she yipped at him, almost insistent. Donghyuck learned to look away, and kept petting her.

He was getting washed with licks from her as Johnny stood, stretched, and sighed. He declared, “Alright. Time for us to get home. See you around, kid.”

Donghyuck wished him goodbye and, right before Johnny vanished, he sent him a frown, “Make sure you’re sleeping right. You look tired.”

Donghyuck didn’t want to sleep anymore, though. He felt as if he’d been sleeping all day. He was started to miss Mark, now that he didn’t have books or Hellhounds to distract himself. He brewed himself a pot of coffee, determined to stay up until Mark got back to the apartment.

Donghyuck poked through Mark’s room with his steaming mug of coffee. He reached out and felt the soft fabric of the synthetic petals of the camellia flower that he’d gifted to Mark, the one that still stood in a water glass on Mark’s desk.

Donghyuck had to smile, upon noticing that the glass was actually filled with water. Even though the flower was fake, Mark had still placed it in water. He couldn’t quite figure Mark out, even then, even after all the time they’d spent together. Why put a flower in water if it didn’t need it to live?

Donghyuck’s eyes fell to the small stack of papers neatly placed in the corner of the desk. He’d caught glimpses of it before. He’d wondered about it, but he hadn’t had a chance to look through it until just then. Donghyuck set the cup of coffee down. His heart clenched, as he caught the familiar handwriting staring up at him from the first sheet of paper.

He faced his own words from his own letters, so carefully placed atop Mark’s desk. Donghyuck felt as if he ought to take care with them too. He gently lifted the stack of letters up.

He read through them on his own, feeling like a voyeur though he’d written the letters himself. It was impossible to read them and to not recall every emotion he’d felt as he was penning the words. It was impossible to ignore the feelings that re-reading the letters dredged up. Added on top of them was the insistent thought that Mark’s feelings must have been different. They might have been even stronger, if Donghyuck was going by his own reactions to reading Mark’s letters.

Donghyuck curled up under the bedcovers. He’d pulled on Mark’s old leather jacket, because it seemed Hell was even colder than its usual that day. It seemed as though Hell itself had slipped into the apartment, through the crevices, making Donghyuck’s teeth chatter when he walked in his socks across the wooden floor to refill his cup of coffee.

He pulled the covers up. He read starting from the ones on top, the most recent letters. As he got to the earlier letters, he was transported back in time, to another place. He couldn’t imagine telling himself from back then how happy he’d be in just a few weeks’ time. He could smile, though, as he read. He could grin, as he brushed his thumb over the fried egg sun by his signature, by his ‘yours always’.

The soft sound of cupboards opening and closing, of the sink being turned on, and the slow fall of water from a faucet splashing against a glass were the only signs Donghyuck got that Mark had returned. Donghyuck couldn’t see the kitchen from where he sat in Mark’s bed. He could hear Mark’s footsteps, quiet as whispers as he walked across the apartment floor, getting closer.

Donghyuck felt a smile growing across his face, as Mark neared. He was ready to scold him for taking longer than he was supposed to, and equally ready to pull him into a kiss.

Then he froze, the smile on his face petrifying, as Mark walked into the room.

Mark blinked at Donghyuck, a glass of water in his hands, half raised to his lips. He looked momentarily taken aback, before he looked away, down to Donghyuck’s hands where he wa still holding the letters.

“You found those, huh?” Mark asked.

His voice was light, at odds with his appearance. Mark’s eyes were rimmed with red, and puffy. His voice was scratchy, despite the forced levity. Donghyuck felt a lump appear in his throat.

“I’m sorry they were just kinda... lying around. I used to look through ‘em when I was feeling... so that’s why they’re not, you know, properly put away,” Mark was still talking, just talking, his voice still scratched and uneven and his eyes red.

Donghyuck couldn’t recall if he’d ever seen Mark cry. Not even when he disappeared. Donghyuck felt as though he’d been walking down stairs and missed the last step. He felt unmoored. He felt scared, almost. Not for himself, but for Mark. He watched as Mark cut himself off, raising the glass to his lips, taking a small gulp of the water within.

Donghyuck quickly cast about for the right thing to say, or do. Mark clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Donghyuck did, though. It was getting old, Mark’s secrets, Mark bottling up his negative emotions and hiding them from Donghyuck.

Donghyuck looked down at his letters and, with the feeling of a weight pressing heavy on his lungs, he sighed.

“I did the same thing,” he said. He looked back up at Mark.

“I kept your letters in my backpack – close by at all times, you know?” Donghyuck still felt uneasy, still felt as if he couldn’t let the moment pass without questioning it a little.

“Did something happen at work?” Donghyuck started, lowering the letters.

Mark’s shoulders lifted, hardening into a line. He walked across the room, closer to Donghyuck, before sitting on the edge of the bed. Donghyuck felt impossibly small, and the distance between them felt more like miles than inches.

Now that Mark was maintaining eye contact with Donghyuck, Donghyuck could see the signs that he’d been crying even clearer. He felt as if he’d been punched, as if his breath had been stolen away. He ached for Mark.

Mark shook his head.

“I didn’t end up going today.”

“Why not?” Donghyuck asked.

“Got caught up with other things,” the more Mark spoke, the more raw his voice sounded, the more the illusion of composure fell and his frayed edges became apparent.

Donghyuck inhaled, deep. Mark’s frame was rigid, his eyes low and shining a touch too bright. Donghyuck set the letters aside, set the book he’d been reading on the bedside table.

“Cuddle with me,” he said, “I’m cold.” He knew he’d said the right thing, from the way Mark’s shoulders fell in an instant, untensing.

It was as if Mark had simply been waiting for Donghyuck to ask. He set his glass of water on the dresser and moved forward, slipping under the covers with Donghyuck.

It wasn’t like any other time they’d been in that bed. Donghyuck held Mark. He wrapped his arms around Mark’s shoulders, as Mark sat atop his lap. He curled himself in, making himself small as he tucked his head into Donghyuck’s neck.

They sat there in silence, Donghyuck hearing Mark’s uneven breathing, afraid to even move wrong and make Mark’s ache worse.

Donghyuck trailed his fingers down Mark’s back, recalling what Mark had once done for him. He kept it up, a light, constant touch, as Mark’s breathing deepened and evened out.

“You can cry,” Donghyuck spoke quietly, uneager to pierce the tentative peace, “It’s alright to cry, you know.”

He still didn’t know why Mark looked as though he’d been crying for hours before then, but he wished Mark didn’t feel the need to hide it from him.

Mark shifted, turning his face in towards Donghyuck’s neck. He laughed, a warm exhalation against Donghyuck’s neck in the cold room.

“I know,” he said, low,  then “Thank you,” and then, before Donghyuck could ask why he’d been thanked, “Love you.”

Donghyuck’s heart thumped. It didn’t matter if he’d heard it before. It didn’t matter that it was spoken in a tired murmur with Mark’s head buried low. It still affected him as it had that first time.

“I love you too,” he replied, before curling his hand through Mark’s hair, coaxing him up.

“What happened?” he asked, again.

Mark looked up slowly, and locked eyes with Donghyuck.

“It’s not going to work,” he said, “my plan, I mean.”

The words tumbled out from his lips like he’d been waiting to let them out, his mouth snapping shut after. It took Donghyuck a moment to place what Mark was talking about. When he did, his breath hitched, as the realization hit him like a force.

“Oh.”

“It was a stupid idea anyways,” Mark said, biting his lip, “Just… stupid. A dream, more than anything.”

Donghyuck still felt as though he was falling. He hadn’t realized that Mark’s vague, secretive plan had been his only source of hope until he’d had it taken away. Donghyuck blinked, trying to clear that sensation, trying to get rid of that unhelpful feeling. He understood Mark’s misery, but he couldn’t let himself feel the same. He’d have to be strong.

“We’ll figure something else out,” Donghyuck said, injecting his voice with determination and trying to feel it too. He let out a small, hopefully undetectable sigh.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

Mark’s eyes fell. Donghyuck braced himself for another rejection, but Mark nodded, surprising him.

“Yeah.”

He took a long, stabilizing breath. Donghyuck waited the long moments that followed in silence, trying to be patient, trying not to fidget. He could see Mark struggling with himself, still trying not to cry in front of him.

“Later, maybe,” Donghyuck spoke at long last, seeing the struggle on Mark’s features, “Let’s just… sleep now.”

Mark’s shoulders slumped, as though he’d been waiting on the words. He nodded, and exhaled.

“Okay. Later.”

It was a little awkward, as it never seemed to be with them, as they navigated the space on the bed to lie down. Mark couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to curl up and make himself small, or to sleep as they normally did, holding Donghyuck to him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Donghyuck said eventually, fond, “Come here.”

Donghyuck tugged him close, face to face, their eyes aligned. Mark’s eyes were inky dark, the red lights from the windows shining at his back. Donghyuck smiled at the hesitation on Mark’s face. He angled in and pressed a light kiss to the tip of Mark’s nose.

“Go to sleep, angel,” he said as he drew back.

Mark’s breath hitched. His lips parted. The bedsheets whispered, soft, the only sound in the room, as he drew his hand up from between them. Mark reached out and cradled the back of Donghyuck’s head, snaking his hand around the nape of his neck.

Mark’s warm, familiar touch guided Donghyuck forward. Mark’s forehead knocked with his. They laid there, like that, their foreheads touching, the spare space between them filled without words, with only their exhalations and their heartbeats. Donghyuck’s eyes fell shut.

Somehow doing nothing but laying in silence, just relishing in each others’ presence because they both knew all too well that it wouldn’t always be that way, was more intimate than even the deepest kiss.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck,” came at long last, as Donghyuck was just started to drift off. Mark spoke in a murmur, even and strong.

Chapter Text

Donghyuck dreamed that he was immersed in cold water. He was drowning in it, sinking deeper and deeper into a depthless lake. Pressure pushed down on him from all sides, and he struggled to draw breath. He felt as if inhaling was impossible, as if something stronger than deep water was constricting him.

Then, just as he thought he was going to suffocate and submit to the pressing darkness, drawing the lake water in and flooding his airways with freezing sludge, his eyes snapped open.

He gasped in air, filling his lungs with air that was crisp and cool and light, nothing like the dark lake water. It took Donghyuck long moments of taking measured breaths in and out for the panic that had gripped him in his dreams to recede.

He couldn’t close his eyes. He wouldn’t let himself fall right back into that dream.

The panic faded as slowly as a tide falling. It took minutes that felt more like hours for Donghyuck to start to situate himself in his surroundings. It was then that he realized why he’d felt so cold. He saw that, in the night, he’d managed to distance himself from Mark. He was lying on the farthest possible edge of the bed, facing the darkest side of Mark’s room, and had thrown off the bed’s covers.

Donghyuck watched the shadows across from him. He crossed his arms over his chest as securely as he dared, a tradeoff between a pressuring force he didn’t desire and the small modicum of warmth that hugging himself would provide. He stared until his eyes felt dry and aching, until he was forced to blink.

Then, and only then, he allowed himself to roll over. The sight of Mark across the span of the bed felt like finally emerging from the cold lake’s depths. The sight of him loosed the persistent grip of cold, just enough to make it bearable.

Donghyuck was frozen then by the sight of Mark sleeping soundly. He was still facing where Donghyuck must have been sleeping before he shifted away. He had a soft smile on his face. His hand was extended, resting on the pillow in front of him, his fingers curled lightly in. It would’ve been resting between them.

Donghyuck still felt unbalanced, still felt lightheaded and faint. He took a deep, shaky inhalation, grounding himself. Then, shivering and unable to wait another moment, he shifted forward, picking up the edge of the blanket and slipping beneath it.

He focused his gaze on Mark’s face, counting the moles on his cheeks one by one. He recovered his sense of balance, focusing in on the details of Mark’s face as though his life depended on it. Donghyuck’s exhaustion set back in, as the disorientation receded.

Carefully, Donghyuck reached out and threaded his fingers through Mark’s. Mark’s skin felt furnace-hot to Donghyuck’s touch. Donghyuck watched Mark’s smile grow near imperceptibly, quirking up at the corner. He smiled too, helpless, tired, and guilty.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, settling in closer as sleep encroached, “Hope this doesn’t make you sick too.”

It was too easy for Donghyuck to bury the memory of the nightmare he’d had that morning.

Mark smiled at him, as he turned around after setting the coffee machine on. He smiled and Donghyuck saw that there was something heavy weighing on him still, something that made his shoulders slump and his eyes duller. He forgot his own troubles and he smiled back.

Donghyuck pulled the blanket he’d dragged from the bed tighter around him. He was still so cold. He’d told Mark when Mark asked that it was just that Hell felt colder than usual that day. Mark had accepted that easily enough. But he’d seemed to put the blanket down to Donghyuck just acting strange, as per usual.

It was quiet in the apartment.

Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make Donghyuck hyperaware of all the little movements Mark made as he shuffled about. Donghyuck sat wrapped in the blanket, with his mug of coffee, watching Mark gather candles into his arms. He didn’t ask what he was doing, though he was burning with curiosity, not until Mark went into the bedroom and climbed out the bedroom window.

Donghyuck crossed the apartment to watch as Mark ascended a set of rickety looking fire-escape stairs that led up to the roof of the building. Mark was on the top floor of the converted warehouse. It wasn’t a long walk up.

“What are you doing?”

Donghyuck gave in and asked, watching Mark gather an array of assorted food from the kitchen. He was placing all the fresh buns and rolls Johnny had brought the other day in a basket, as well as some fruit, some apples and kiwis, cherries and tangerines.

Mark looked up at him.

“I was thinking we could do breakfast under the stars?”

There was an odd note in his voice. Donghyuck nodded in agreement, without more than second’s thought.

He couldn’t explain it, but he felt like taking things so much softer with Mark after the day they’d had yesterday. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known Mark could be sensitive. All of his letters had made that clear. But he hadn’t been faced with it until he’d had to look Mark in his red-rimmed eyes and comfort him, though he didn’t know why, though his mind reeled trying to understand. He was taking things softer, and Mark seemed to be grateful for it.

Mark carried up the food while Donghyuck managed a careful balancing act of armfuls of blankets and pillows. By the flickering candles and by the ambient crimson glow from the neon signs and streetlights surrounding the apartment building, they set up the pillows and blankets for the impromptu picnic.

The warehouse roof was hardly the most romantic location. They had to lay the blankets out over the gravel top. The candlelight bounced off the various maintenance accesses and chimneys and outlets, casting their rusted metal in a dim orange glow.

Donghyuck hardly noticed that, though, as Mark sat down on the blankets and started to withdraw the food, his face focused and features solemn. Donghyuck smiled and took up the spot next to Mark, leaning up against him, interrupting his efforts. He didn’t seem to mind though.

Donghyuck looked up at him through his lashes and Mark’s features had shifted. He had a smile on his face, small but definite. The candles’ glow lit his eyes up like as though they contained flickering flames themselves.

It was cold, and Donghyuck should have felt the chill to his bones, sitting there on top of the roof. He tugged another blanket fast around himself. With Mark at his side, he hardly felt any worse than he would have back in Mark’s bed, back in the apartment.

“I can tell you now,” Mark said, blurted, out of nowhere, just as Donghyuck had been about to ask him to pass Donghyuck’s mug of coffee over.

Donghyuck drew back to shoot him a questioning look.

“I mean...” Mark cleared his throat. He looked as though he wanted more than anything to look away, but he maintained eye contact with Donghyuck, “I mean… If you’d like, I can tell you what happened yesterday.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck replied, intrigued and cautious in turn. What could be enough to make Mark cry?

“Okay,” he barely recognized his own voice for how achingly tender it came out, “If you feel ready.”

Mark inhaled. Then, he nodded back, and he began to speak.

As Mark spoke, explaining where he’d gone the day before when he and Donghyuck had been separated, Donghyuck felt the cold draw more closely in. He didn’t want to nestle closer to Mark, not as he spoke, not as a line appeared between his brows and as he stumbled over words, his mouth twisted.

Mark had gone to his boss, he confessed. Explaining that Donghyuck had motivated him to stop putting off putting his plan into action, Mark had gotten over himself and gone right to the Devil.

“I think I knew even then that it wasn’t going to work out,” Mark mumbled. His voice was light, despite the gravity behind it. He kept his eyes cast down as he picked at a tuft of loose, frayed thread on the fabric of the blanket.

Donghyuck couldn’t say much. He was just as confused as he’d been in the beginning. He kept silent, watching Mark watch himself as he unraveled the thread.

“The moment I asked him if he could help me get my soul back… he just,” Mark looked up, his eyes wide and pooled with light, “He went so quiet , Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck felt as though he’d been punched. He felt the air drawn from his lungs, expelled in a small white cloud from his lips. The exhalation dissipated. Donghyuck was left with an unobscured view of Mark and he still hadn’t gotten around to accepting his words.

“Your soul?” he repeated, “You left to try and get your soul... back?”

Donghyuck thought through all the implications of that. He thought through them all, in the silence that followed, the weight of every subsequent realization landing on him, making it harder to draw breath. Mark had tried to get his soul back. Mark had tried, and failed.

Mark sucked in his lower lip. His head was angled low, and his lashes fanned dark, shading his eyes, dimming their light. He nodded.

“I wanted to be human again.”

“Why?” was all Donghyuck could ask, because it seemed impossible. It seemed insane. Mark, losing his hard edges, becoming soft, becoming just like Donghyuck – it didn’t make sense.

Mark looked up, raising his head.

“I guess I thought… I thought it was my only chance to be with you.”

Mark’s eyes looked brighter still, shining, brimming. Donghyuck’s demon was on the verge of tears, all because he couldn’t be human once more. Donghyuck felt his desperation as if it was his own, felt something wretched clawing its way up his throat in a scratching, painful path.

“ – Fuck,” Mark laughed. It bubbled out from him, weary and strange, as if he himself didn’t trust it. He leaned back, surveying Donghyuck with a gaze still flickering like candlelight.

“I was thinking – if I could just be a human again… I thought I might’ve had the chance to grow old with you.”

Donghyuck could only stare at Mark as the weight of his words sunk in. Before even fully processing, just as the magnitude gripped him, Donghyuck reached out. He drew his fingers across the back of Mark’s hand. His skin was soft to the touch, warm in the cold. Donghyuck could feel the bones of his hand, the barely protruding veins.

It was a reminder, to the both of them. The contact. They were together for now at least.

Donghyuck didn’t know what to say.

Donghyuck hadn’t even known Mark’s immortality could be something they’d have to worry about. He’d been so focused on getting to Mark, on living every moment with him. He hadn’t thought ahead, though he should have.

“So then… your boss… he said he couldn’t get it back?” Donghyuck’s voice sounded distant to his own ears.  

Mark shook his head, wordless.

“Oh,” Donghyuck bit his lip.

He could see their lives unfolding in a split second. Donghyuck, splitting his time between Hell and Earth, yearning to be with Mark, yearning to be with his friends, unable to do both at once. Donghyuck, getting older, growing, having aged lines etched across his face as Mark remained the same as ever, forever nineteen, forever the same ink dark hair and ink dark eyes. Donghyuck had seen their sheen fade before, in brief flashes. He wondered if they’d fade once more as Donghyuck himself started to wither.

“I’m still sentenced here,” Mark spoke, as his gaze fell. Donghyuck watched, as he turned his hand over, and threaded Donghyuck’s fingers through his own, “And it’s not like my soul could be retrieved, even if I could leave.”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck frowned, at first so focused on the feel of his touch, the catching brush of his calluses. It had taken him a moment.

“I mean… Taeyong told me once that once you sell your soul you can’t unsell it. Once it’s up there, it’s there to stay.”

Every answer of Mark’s only prompted more questions. Donghyuck bit his tongue. He looked up from their intertwined hands. Mark was looking at him, his brows knitted together above earnest, wide eyes. Donghyuck felt his gaze, like a magnet drawing him in. He heard the tremor in Mark’s voice, and wanted to take him into his arms.

Instead, Donghyuck looked up.

He forced himself to stare at the stars instead of Mark. The stars that weren’t stars, the ones that shone in the endless night and flickered above the cityscape of Hell. Donghyuck felt a creeping sensation crawl across his skin.

“Oh, God,” was all Donghyuck could say, “Your – it’s up there ?”

Mark’s lips were twisted. Slowly, he nodded in confirmation. Donghyuck looked up at the stars – the souls – wondering just how many there were. Wondering how it felt, to have your soul separate from you, lost in an endless sky. He didn’t realize his grip on Mark’s hand had tightened until Mark let out a soft sound, a: “Donghyuck, are you okay?”

“F – I’m fine,” Donghyuck replied, immediately, “Are you okay?”

Mark was silent. He shrugged, after a moment. He didn’t look okay. Not in the slightest. Donghyuck was still working on processing everything. Mark’s plan was to become human. Mark’s plan had failed. Mark’s soul was a star in the sky above their heads, one of billions possibly, lost among them.

Donghyuck paused, taking in Mark’s twisted lips, his grim expression. It was one thing, he thought, to be sad for one’s own sake. It opened up new aches when one felt the sadness of another, as he felt then for Mark. Donghyuck ached for him. He wanted to help him, he wanted to alleviate that feeling, to make it bearable at least.

Donghyuck looked up. He searched for the brightest star in the sky, until his eyes landed on one that stood out from the rest. It that shone with the force of some other sort of cosmic entity – a planet, looming over, or a comet frozen in time.

“Found you,” he said, with complete conviction, raising his free hand to point out the star that shone brightest.

Mark looked at him, his expression shifting once he followed Donghyuck’s gaze. Confusion morphed into quiet amusement. His eyes turned to crescents, crinkled out at the corners, a soft smile toyed with his lips.

“How could you possibly know that one’s mine?”

“It’s just… the brightest,” was the only answer Donghyuck could provide. He shrugged, “Out of all the stars, it’s the one that stood out the most to me.”

Mark sighed. Within a moment, Donghyuck was enveloped in his arms. A soft breeze whorled around them, creeping in through the crevices between Mark’s hold. Donghyuck nestled closer, pressing his face against the soft fabric of Mark’s well worn shirt. He breathed in, taking solace in the comforting scent of cotton, and a flame burning bright and new.

“I’m going to miss you so damn much,” Mark murmured, “I think I’ve already started.”

Donghyuck’s heart clenched.

“I wish there was a way I could be with you when I’m not here,” he said, nonsensical, “Just… some way you could keep me close by, not ever forget me.”

Mark was silent for a moment, and Donghyuck considered that that may have been one of the least helpful things he’d said yet.

“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about doing this for awhile anyways,” Mark broke the silence, his voice thoughtful, “So there’s no way you’re going to be able to talk me out of it.”

Before Donghyuck could acknowledge the inkling of dread he felt at the prospect of another one of Mark’s ideas, he was distracted by the sensation of warm fingers, drawing a path down his back. He shivered at their contact, though his core bloomed with warmth.

He didn’t think he’d be willing to talk Mark out of his idea, even if he could. He sighed.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“You know, when you said awhile…”

Donghyuck slumped down on a stool by the table where Mark was laid out, “...How soon after you met me did you decide to get a tattoo dedicated to me? Was it days?” Donghyuck smiled, lopsided, “Hours?”

Mark sighed, rolled his eyes, but the twist of his lips was fond.

“No, wait. The moment I opened the door to my dorm, right when you laid eyes on this face,” Donghyuck prodded his cheek, “that’s when it hit you.”

“Why do I love you again?” Mark asked, and Donghyuck couldn’t have contained the smile that spread across his lips if he tried. Something about the way Mark said the word ‘love’, the way his lips curled around it, set something within Donghyuck ablaze. He felt unstoppable.

“Look at me,” Donghyuck gestured at himself, “Come on. I’m irresistible.”

Donghyuck leaned closer in. He rested his head on his hand, and reached out with the other to start tracing designs on Mark’s bare shoulder. It wasn’t as cold in the studio as it was outside, but Mark’s skin had grown dotted with goosebumps. They were sitting, waiting for the tattoo artist to come back with whatever special ink demons apparently required for their tattoos.

The tattoo artist was a soul who resembled the pin-up women from fifties magazines, with sleek black hair, and lips painted a shocking crimson. The only thing that set her apart was her pale skin, every inch from her neck down covered in tattoos. She’d sighed when Mark had walked in, Donghyuck at his heels (out of breath despite Mark slowing to a stroll for him).

“Haven’t had to do work on one of you in a decade,” she’d grumbled, in a tone rich and bitter, like the darkest chocolate. Mark had shrugged, a guilty smile on his face, and the tattoo artist had melted in an instant. She’d asked him to take his shirt off and wait in the backroom, said she’d need to get the special ink prepared, and to give her a moment.

Only that moment had stretched long. Mark was shirtless and shivering and looking at Donghyuck with a goofy smile on his face as Donghyuck drew his name in lower case letters across Mark’s chest.

“You should get the word ‘angel’,” Donghyuck hummed, before drawing his thumb in a horizontal stripe across Mark’s chest, over his ribcage, “In the center, maybe. Just in case you forget what you are when I’m not here to remind you.”

“Should I?” Mark reached up and caught Donghyuck’s hand. Donghyuck blinked at the contrast between the warmth of Mark’s hand, its solid comfort, and his own chilled fingers.

“I already know what I’m getting.”

Mark was tapping his thumb on Donghyuck’s wrist, seemingly absentmindedly. Donghyuck felt odd for being the one shivering. He knew it wasn’t even from the cold. It was just the chilling feeling of being so attuned to another’s touch.

“A couple words you used to say to me,” Mark’s smile went crooked. He lifted his other hand, touched it above his heart, “Right here.”

Donghyuck swallowed his first response. Then his second.

“Right by your heart?” he cocked his head, “That’s cute.”

Mark’s smile fell, “What? No – below my collarbone. That’s – the heart thing’s just a coincidence. I don’t even – .”

Just as Mark seemed primed to whip himself up into a storm of denials, the door to the back room opened, and the tattoo artist walked back in, silencing him. She was carrying a small vial of dark liquid in her hand – an ink so completely black that it seemed to absorb all light that shone into it, just completely black without shine.

“You ready, demon?” she asked, impatient.

Donghyuck decided he liked her. She drew around to sit at Mark’s other side. Mark’s eyes widened. But he pressed his lips together, and nodded.

“Alright, then. Let’s talk about the design.”

No nonsense, the artist drew out a pad of paper and a pencil and got to work sketching as Mark curled over and okayed, or told her it wouldn’t work. Donghyuck felt his consciousness slipping, drowsiness growing, claiming him, taking over as the woman’s smooth tone and Mark’s even, familiar voice blended together.

“Baby, did you fall asleep?”

Seemingly from nowhere, Mark’s voice came in, rousing Donghyuck from what might have been sleep and might have just been an extended blink. He shook his head, an answer while also simultaneously shaking off what definitely (probably) wasn’t sleep.

Mark’s had a smile on his face, but his gaze was sharp, and his brows were furrowed.

“You’re so tired lately,” he said, and Donghyuck heard the question there. He ignored it, and smiled, brightly.

“I didn’t miss the tattooing, did I?” he asked, “I wanted to see you wince.”

“Okay, sadist,” Mark snorted, “And, no, you didn’t. Irene was just about to start.”

The artist – Irene – gave Donghyuck a shrewd look. She was standing then, adjusting some knobs and dials on the tattoo machine.

Donghyuck’s smile felt strained under her gaze. It seemed to be doing that more and more, becoming difficult to maintain when he wasn’t speaking with Mark. He nodded at Irene. She nodded back, her pristinely styled hair not budging with the movement.

Donghyuck sheepishly settled in deeper in his stool, slumping down and telling himself he wasn’t burrowing closer to Mark, definitely not. He wasn’t a coward, and he didn’t hide behind his boyfriend to protect himself from scary tattoo ladies.

Donghyuck reached out, and slipped his fingers through Mark’s. He held fast as Irene took her seat, turned on the machine, and laid the tip of the needle of the tattoo gun against Mark’s skin, right above his heart.

Mark seemed to be trying not to let any trace of reaction cross his features, at first. The only sign that he felt anything at all from the whir of the tattoo gun was the dimple that appeared between his furrowed brows, as he glanced down and watched Irene work, as she pierced ink into his skin.

The ink seemed just as dark outside of the bottle as in. There was no sheen to the ink, not as flecked droplets covered the surface of the pale skin of Mark’s chest.

Donghyuck wanted to reach out and touch one, to smear his fingers across the black ink, to dirty his hands with the same ink that was flecked like freckles all over Mark’s skin. Then Mark hissed, sudden and soft, and Donghyuck’s eyes flicked up. Mark’s face was focused, so much so that Donghyuck felt like laughing at him.

“Does it hurt, angel?” Donghyuck asked.

Mark scrunched up his nose.

“No,” he asserted, an obvious lie that made Donghyuck’s lips curl up into a smile, “Not at all.”

Mark walked out of the tattoo parlor with a bandage over his chest, covering the spot above his heart. The wind gusted by, causing his half-buttoned shirt to flap open over it. Donghyuck’s eyes kept straying to the white patch. Under it, he knew what lay.

Just under it, in Donghyuck’s handwriting, the words ‘yours always’ were etched in Mark’s skin, written in endlessly black ink that would never fade, would never lighten. The ink was imbued with a magic, Irene had explained, mixed in with a potion from Jaehyun’s own making. The ink in Mark’s skin would last forever. It’d outlast Donghyuck, at any rate.

Donghyuck shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. He prodded at Mark’s arm. When Mark lifted it, Donghyuck tucked himself wordlessly underneath, nestling up close to Mark’s side.

Always, he thought, shouldn’t have to mean different things for different people. It was cruel, he thought, that Mark’s always would stretch long past his own.

Mark didn’t go to the bar that evening. Donghyuck didn’t bring it up. Not again. They stayed in Mark’s bed instead, Donghyuck telling himself he wasn’t drifting off, the sound of Mark’s pen scratching against paper the only sound in the room.

Mark only shook him awake for their dinner, another picnic of buns and fruits and small, sweet treats, this time in the middle of Mark’s living room. The crimson candles flickered, and the whispers of the wind outside made the atmosphere almost eerie, if eerie could be comfortable and easy.

Mark’s laugh when Donghyuck joked about his lack of cooking abilities stoked the low fire rumbling in his stomach.

They didn’t kiss for hours that night. There was no heated, desperate making out. As much as Donghyuck’s mother’s deadline was creeping up, Donghyuck couldn’t summon the energy to do anything more than trace figures on Mark’s bare skin. He apologized for being so tired, for not even being able to kiss Mark. Mark just frowned, and tugged him closer.

“Donghyuck,” he said, his voice chiding, “Donghyuck, why are you apologizing? Sleep. We can save that for tomorrow. We have tomorrow, at least.”

☾

Donghyuck awoke to the insistent, piercing sound of high ringing. It was faint, as though far off, but try as he might to shake his head, and clear the sound, he couldn’t. It was a nagging sound, an ache in his ears.

Donghyuck winced, rubbing his ear. He was hardly conscious of anything but the sound and his own body as he slipped from the bed covers, his socked feet landing on the cold wood floor. He wobbled as he stood, but caught his balance, holding back to the bed behind him. Once he’d caught himself, he started off again, staggering as his feet carried him automatically to the bathroom.

Donghyuck drew the door shut behind him. He wasn’t thinking of much beyond getting to somewhere he could be sick. There was some small part of him saying to hide it, to not add to their worries.

Donghyuck sunk to the ground in front of the toilet. Body shaking, shivers wracking him entirely, making his teeth chatter, he sat. He just sat and tried to collect himself, hating himself, hating everything in that moment. He just had to be getting worse, and worse. Things just couldn’t go right for them.

He splashed his face with water and looked himself in the mirror, once he’d finally managed to stand up again without feeling lightheaded and two seconds from falling. Donghyuck’s face was pale. Even in the dim yellowed lights in the bathroom mirror he could tell he was drained of color.

Donghyuck raised his hand to his forehead, feeling it, exhaling unbidden at how his fingers felt on his own skin. Ice cold, as though he was pressing icicles to himself. Donghyuck dropped his hand.

He could tell himself that it was just a cold, some bug he’d managed to catch despite spending all his time with souls and immortal demons. He’d be a fool if he tried. He was getting worse. Something was going horribly wrong. He didn’t know how much time he had left.

Donghyuck turned from the mirror. He shuffled into the bedroom. Starlight and artificial lights interplayed, casting the bed in white and red, making the line of Mark’s body underneath the covers stand out stark in contrast.

Donghyuck drew up to the bed, but not to his side. He allowed himself one thing, just one moment to reach out, only to stop and freeze midway through. He hesitated. He didn’t want to risk waking Mark. Donghyuck didn’t know if he’d find a chance to sneak out before the next night. He sucked in his lower lip, gnawing on it. He might not even be in a state to sneak out when he next got a chance.

Donghyuck turned from Mark, busying himself with getting ready to leave, pulling on his boots, an extra shirt that belonged to Mark that Donghyuck doubted he’d notice was gone. He made sure his backpack was packed, candles and spell book and all. He left it though, after a thought. He wouldn’t need it where he was going. Donghyuck left it on the couch in the living room.

As a final touch, he slipped on Mark’s leather jacket. It was cold in Hell, after all. That was excuse enough.

He didn’t let himself linger at the foot of their bed. He allowed himself only as long as it took to say,

“Don’t get upset when you wake up, okay? If this was actually goodbye, I’d do it properly. But it’s not, so… I’m not.”

He only allowed himself a pause as long as it took to trace the lines of Mark’s face once over, his features peaceful in sleep, and then he forced his feet to move. Donghyuck carefully closed the door to Mark’s apartment, quiet as a whisper. On weak legs, he started for the stairs.

The walk would be long, and lonely. But he had a plan. He had a goal in mind, and he was the only one who could put it in place.

Hell was never empty. The souls never stopped walking the streets, not even as he and Mark were meant to be asleep. Donghyuck might have felt lonely, as he made his way to the Spire, but he was never alone. He walked alongside women in skirts as wide as doorways. He shivered walking past men in hulking fur coats. The souls of Hell laughed, and joked, and fought loudly with smiles on their faces, paying Donghyuck no mind. He wasn’t alone, but it just made his loneliness more acute.

Donghyuck’s feet felt heavy, as he forced himself to trudge on, winding past bodies that he knew weren’t bodies, that were nothing more than figments that’d soon join the rest of the souls in the sky. Donghyuck’s eyes stayed on the top of the Spire, visible above the rest of the buildings, standing tall and imposing against the backdrop of stars, the red lights of Hell barely reaching its tallest levels.

It didn’t feel much like a battle, like some fight, walking to the Spire all by himself. He didn’t feel brave, planning on facing down the demons, their boss in their home, in their realm. Donghyuck felt scared, and desperate. He felt out of options. He shivered into Mark’s jacket, and tucked in closer. Wind from nowhere whistled in his ears, a high, melody-less tune.

He ran through what he’d say, if he managed to reach the Spire, if he managed to climb it. Those ‘ifs’ weighed on him, adding a pressure to his shoulders he didn’t know how he could bear. Donghyuck felt a prickling at his eyes and ducked his head. Laughter from the souls  surrounding him, and whistling wind, and below it all his own voice echoing, telling Mark it wasn’t goodbye.

The lights that shown from the cracks in the Spire’s front door stretched out into the dark street like sallow fingers, yellow and pale. Donghyuck walked up between two splashes of the light, feeling sick to his stomach, unsure whether it was simply his worsening condition, or if it was the prospect of facing the demons.

Most of Mark’s friends were alright, Donghyuck reminded himself. He paused, under the guise of catching his breath. Mark had said that his boss Taeyong was alright, too. But the Devil had made Mark cry since then, and Donghyuck had no way of knowing how he would treat a human who had snuck into Hell.

Donghyuck was used to making rash, ill-informed decisions. He was used to leaping first and asking questions later. Questions brimmed within him then, though. Doubts, for himself and his plan.

His legs were weak, his feet were heavy, and he felt as though he was still submerged in freezing water, so impossibly cold. Donghyuck remembered how warm he felt in Mark’s bed, Mark next to him. He wished he could be back there. He forged on, stepping forward, sliding his hand around the cool metal handle of the Spire’s entrance, and going in.

He needed explanations. He needed to ask questions that only one being could possibly answer. He needed to see the Devil, there wasn’t room for doubting himself.

The Spire looked like the most refined apartment building, on the inside. The walls were gilt, shining and climbing high. A crystal chandelier as big around as Mark’s bed was wide hung overhead, tapering off into delicate, miniscule crystals that glittered like a rainfall of jewels. The chandelier lit the entrance area in a warm gold, so unlike the rest of Hell that Donghyuck’s eyes had difficulty adjusting at first. It did remind Donghyuck of one thing, he realized. It almost looked like the theater, the one where the dance shows were held.

Beyond the chandelier was a painting, the ceiling’s height so extreme as to make it nearly impossible to discern the figures within it. Donghyuck could make out a blue sky, with white wisps of clouds traversing it, not obscuring the bright yellow sun in the center of the painting. Donghyuck pulled up short, frozen, arrested by the sight.

It had been a week since he’d seen the sun, he realized. A week without blue skies and clouds and – Donghyuck saw green meadows in the painting, dotted with yellow and pink flowers he had to squint at to make out. A week without green, without any living things save for himself and a couple of demons. A hellhound puppy, too, he supposed.

There were figures populating the painting – only a scant few. Nine, by Donghyuck’s count. Donghyuck frowned up at them, wondering who they were meant to be, and what they were supposed to be doing. They looked as though they were captured in the midst of a candid moment. There was a couple seated on the grassy meadow, a trio draped over each other off to the side, a man with dark hair that spiked up sitting crosslegged, his face turned up towards the sun, his features lit up golden and glorious.

Donghyuck shook himself out of his reverie. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. It was possible Mark was already awake and had figured out he was gone. Donghyuck felt a pang, as he started towards what looked to be a hallway leading out from the entrance hall. He hoped Mark would understand. Not now, of course. Maybe not even right after Donghyuck would explain himself. Eventually, though. It was all he could hope for, that Mark would come around to see why he was doing this with time.

There was an elevator. Of course there was. There always seemed to be, in Donghyuck’s admittedly small experience. It was gold, shining and warm and nothing like the elevator to Hell in the library. Donghyuck had to smile as he stepped inside, even as his heart thumped in his chest, beating against his ribs like a caged bird trying to break free.

Somehow, he suspected he wouldn’t have any run-ins with angels in this elevator. Donghyuck hardly paused as he surveyed the elevator’s buttons. Mark had said the demons lived here – he would stake his life on their boss living in the highest floor, the penthouse of the Spire. The King of Hell had to live at the highest level. Donghyuck prodded at the floor number – 100. 666 floors would be a bit too on the nose, he guessed.

Then he exhaled, and took a step back. He took the opportunity to gather his strength again. He’d need it, he figured. He curled his hands around the railing at the back of the elevator, and listed his head back, letting it fall against the cool metal plating.

Just as the elevator started to ascend, a few notes trickled out, pricking Donghyuck’s ear. Then a few more. Elevator music. A smile rose to Donghyuck’s face. Of course they’d have elevator music in Hell. It was unlike the soft jazz you would have expected, though. It was a song he didn’t recognize. It was a bit catchy. Quicker than he’d anticipated, its upbeat rhythm matching his thumping heartbeat.

Too soon, the elevator slowed to a stop, a dinging sound alerting Donghyuck that he’d arrived.

The doors slid open, soundless, revealing an open space. Donghyuck set his shoulders and steeled himself, hands going to the hem of Mark’s jacket, unthinking. He forced himself to uncurl his fingers. He’d been expecting a hallway, another chance to breathe. He’d been wrong to. Of course the elevator would open up right into the penthouse floor.

Donghyuck convinced his feet to move forward. He walked out into the dark area beyond the elevator. The room was dark, dim and decorated sparsely. It was a wide open expanse, the floor made of tile that Donghyuck would have thought was a pitch black until he stepped over it. As he walked directly over each tile, he was able to see a glint beneath his feet, a twinkling of bright, tiny shards embedded in the black, shining tiles.

Donghyuck looked around. The room was barren, save for black columns that circumscribed a large portion of it, the best lit area. Beyond the columns was a dark, shadowed area which Donghyuck could only assume led off to other rooms. The center space was empty, save for a lone table. A circle, its surface a gleaming darkness with shining irregularities, like obsidian. Chairs surrounded it. Nine of them, by Donghyuck’s count.

His heart was in his throat as he stepped forward, into the dimly lit area with the table. Upon stepping in, he realized the light source wasn’t artificial, as he’d first thought. The space above the table was completely open – there wasn’t a ceiling. The top floor of the Spire opened into the night, the stars providing a source of light that refracted off of the twinkling floors and the shining table, leaving the room’s features just discernible.

Donghyuck shivered, more out of habit than anything, as he heard the familiar sound of wind. Instead of whistling, it made a more focused sound as it filtered through the spikes jutting out from the Spire’s top. It sounded almost like a tune.

“Oh. Hello, there,” a soft voice sounded out over the singing of the gales of wind, as a figure, all sharp angles, stepped out from the shadows beyond the columns, “Who are you?”

Donghyuck’s heart stopped entirely, as the man stepped closer. He might have been a demon, with his ears that tapered off into points, with the sharp canines that flashed in his small smile. He might have been a demon like Mark, like Johnny or Jaehyun. But he had horns jutting out from his forehead, two points of cream-white about as long as Donghyuck’s pinkie finger, bone colored horns that rested in front of black hair that was swept back from his face.

The King of Hell was handsome, chillingly so. He had a face unlike any Donghyuck had ever seen. It was unlike the easy charm of Mark’s that pulled you in the moment you saw a smile, unlike the cool strength of Johnny’s features, or the movie-star handsome faces of Jaehyun and Jungwoo.

He looked perfect, with features that seemed as though they could have only come from the meticulous hands of a master sculptor, with eyes that were wide and compelling. Donghyuck could scarcely look at him.

His heart resumed beating, going double time.

“Donghyuck,” he managed to say, though he didn’t know how, “I’m Donghyuck.”

The Devil’s smile widened to a grin. He’d reached the table. Donghyuck was unbelievably grateful for the thing, as it was all that stood between he and Satan himself. The Devil angled forward to carefully set down a stack of papers on the table, before straightening. He looked at Donghyuck with that fanged smile, his horns casting long shadows over his sharp features.

“I know you. You’re the one that Mark fell in love with, right? And you’re in Hell now? How... lucky.”

“I don’t know about luck,” Donghyuck issued, under his breath, likely inaudible for the Devil. His feet felt frozen, stuck to the ground. His muscles were tensed, though, like his body thought he might break for the elevator at any moment. As tempting as that was, he couldn’t. He had to see this through.

“I wish you’d sent word you were coming,” the Devil cocked his head. A short strand of his black hair was loosed by the motion, falling in front of his eyes, “I’m afraid this place isn’t well suited for you as it is. The living like it much warmer and brighter, I believe.”

Donghyuck felt light headed. He wondered what the Devil meant by ‘this place’ – whether that referred to this room, or all of Hell.

“It’s alright,” he found himself in the peculiar position of reassuring the Devil, “I like it just fine like this.”

“Good,” the Devil’s smile was warm, despite the sharp clash of his fangs, despite how it should have looked, paired with his horns and his dark clothes with studs and chains.

It was like the whole room, Donghyuck realized. The whole room with the table ought to have been bone chillingly terrifying, with all the sharp edges and dark corners, with the howling of the wind. It was intimidating, surely, but it was equal amounts breathtaking. Donghyuck felt as though his unassuming shoes, his scuffed boots, were tarnishing the gleaming, sparkling floor.

He also couldn’t help but notice that the Devil didn’t seem all that surprised to see him, much less angry at his presence. He’d thought Mark hadn’t wanted to tell him about Donghyuck, but if not Mark, then who – Johnny?

Donghyuck swallowed.

“Did you know I was here the whole time?” he asked.

The Devil’s smile turned apologetic. The long length of the obsidian table divided them still, as if the Devil was waiting for Donghyuck to make the first move.

“I guessed fairly early on. The effect you had on Mark – it was unmissable.”

The mention Mark’s name did more to warm Donghyuck through than he would have thought possible. Donghyuck ducked his head, as a smile rose unbidden to his lips. He schooled his feature before looking back up. He shifted, and started towards the Devil.

“And you’re not mad?”

The Devil shook his head, his eyes bright as his pupils drifted, tracking Donghyuck in his approach.

“No. Annoyed, a little,” a frown tugged his lips down, “You’re really not supposed to be here, I’m afraid.”

“I know,” Donghyuck snapped. The aggravation in his own voice surprised him, “I know I’m not supposed to be here. But what else could I have done? You locked up Mark. You told him he couldn’t come to me. Was I just supposed to let him wait here, knowing that he lo – “

Donghyuck’s throat closed off. He took a deep breath, exhaled carefully. The Devil was watching him, his handsome face unreadable. It pissed Donghyuck off more, that he could just close himself away like that. Donghyuck threw out his hand as he stalked closer, gaining steam,

“He loves me, and he broke my curse for me. I wasn’t going to leave him alone. I couldn’t.”

Something flickered in the Devil’s dark eyes.

“So you took pity on him and decided to keep him company during his imprisonment.”

“No,” Donghyuck’s voice was nearly a growl, “Jesus. No. I – I’m selfish, alright? I missed him. That’s all,” Donghyuck stopped just short of the Devil. He couldn’t look at him anymore, at those eyes that felt as though they could see into his soul. He fixed his gaze at some point to the left of his head, above his shoulder.

“I wanted to – to say sorry. I wanted to kiss him, properly. I wanted to make him laugh. I wanted to hear his voice when he said he loved me. I just wanted to fucking be with him. That’s it.”

“So why are you here?” the Devil’s voice was low.

His question was so unexpected that Donghyuck forgot his brimming anger. His eyes landed back on the Devil. His face was still discerning, calculating.

“I don’t – what?”

“What brings you here alone, if you’re only down here to be with him?”

All at once, it felt as though the air was sucked from the room, right out from the open ceiling. Donghyuck deflated, his anger and annoyance seeping from him, leaving him with just his bone-weary exhaustion, and those aches that seemed to grow worse every moment.

He reached out, cognizant of the way the Devil’s eyes followed the movement, and grabbed onto one of the chairs at the table to stabilize himself.

It was on the tip of his tongue – a simple question that the Devil probably knew the answer to better than anything: what’s wrong with me?

Why was Donghyuck weak, why were his thoughts fuzzy, why was he always cold, save for when he was in Mark’s arms?

When he opened his mouth, though, something else slipped out.

“You made him cry.”

The Devil hadn’t seemed to be expecting that either. His lips parted in surprise. He blinked at Donghyuck.

“What?”

Donghyuck didn’t have the energy to launch into another tirade. He explained as best he could the state Mark had been in a couple days ago, his red-rimmed eyes. He continued on, sharing Mark’s words from the rooftop picnic, when he’d seemed near to tears again, when Donghyuck had wanted to cry with him.

As he spoke, the Devil’s face shifted. He no longer looked discerning, nor warm, nor impassive. He looked discomfited, then distraught. Donghyuck couldn’t even be satisfied watching the eerily human expression of sadness form on the Devil’s features, not when it reflected his own emotions.

“I didn’t know,” the Devil said, when Donghyuck had finished, “I – he left as soon as he’d finished asking me if it was possible. I knew he’d be upset, but…”

“He’s more than fucking upset,” Donghyuck snapped, anger surging up again before falling just as quick. His shoulders slumped, “And I am too.”

“I’m sorry,” the Devil said, after a moment of silence. It sounded for all the world as if he meant it too. Donghyuck shook his head.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t change anything – it doesn’t change the fact that Mark’s going to be stuck in here while I’m living, aging, growing up there – without him,” Donghyuck couldn’t keep a bit of bitterness from tinging his tone.

He held the Devil’s eye. Some distant part of him noted that when the Devil’s eyes shifted, they lit up, shining not like the bright white of the starlight above, but with a golden gleam that resembled the ground floor, with its cheery, breathtaking painting. Donghyuck held his gaze steady, and didn’t let himself wobble on his feet.

“I want to do something about that,” he said. He waited until he saw the Devil’s eyes flash in understanding before continuing.

“I’d like to sell my soul for Mark’s freedom.”

Chapter Text

“I’d like to sell my soul for Mark’s freedom.”

As soon as Donghyuck said the words, he felt lighter. It felt as if he’d confessed something that had been weighing on him, some grievous sin. Though this wasn’t a sin at all, this was an offer. And now he was left waiting, hanging on for the other party to accept it.

The Devil’s eyes narrowed.

For a moment, Donghyuck feared he’d tell Donghyuck that he was an idiot, that he had to be a fool to make such a trade. Donghyuck had arguments against that. He had every scenario covered. It had been a long walk to the Spire, and he’d had plenty of time to think.

The Devil’s gaze fell from Donghyuck, though. He reached out, and Donghyuck had a wild thought that maybe he was reaching for something, some dangerous magical device or something. He felt equal parts ridiculous and relieved when the Devil simply swiped his finger along the obsidian table, brushing away a microscopic speck of dust. The Devil sniffed.

“You’ve got your mind made up on this, haven’t you?”

“‘Fraid so,” Donghyuck exhaled, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

He relaxed, letting himself list against the table, settling into a more comfortable stance. He could almost trick himself into thinking they were just talking about something normal. That this was just Donghyuck swapping his chemistry notes for the Devil’s biology notes or something. Donghyuck bit back the smile that threatened to rise to his lips at the image of that.

The Devil clicked his tongue, and shattered the illusion. Donghyuck tensed at the sound, before forcing himself to relax.

“You’d only have ten years with him.”

“I know,” Donghyuck could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

“And then we’d come to reap your soul.”

“Yeah. I figured.”

“He’d still be a demon,” there was something like caution in the Devil’s voice, weighing it down, “It’s impossible for him to get his soul back.”

Donghyuck winced, though he should have anticipated the Devil would say that. He knew that already. Of course he knew that already.

Still, the Devil carried on. His eyes were piercing as he surveyed Donghyuck, as though he could see straight through him.

“Because once you’ve sold your soul –.”

“You can’t get it back,” Donghyuck completed. They weren’t just talking about Mark anymore.  

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck waved his hand. He wanted this to move along. Every minute he stood, he could feel his legs growing weaker. He didn’t want them to buckle, not in front of the Devil, “Less fine print to deal with.”

The Devil’s features shifted, his expression hardening.

“You’d give up a lifetime for ten years with him?”

A foreign note entered his voice. It sounded as if it could be disbelief to Donghyuck, and the idea of that hit Donghyuck harder than had probably been intended. Donghyuck swallowed against the bitter taste roiling up within him. He didn’t know what was so difficult to understand about this.

He wanted to be with Mark, and he wanted it to be in the sunny summer sky, or in Vancouver under snowfall, or in a diner on campus with his friends. He wouldn’t mind dying after a decade full of days like that. He wouldn’t mind coming back to Hell, coming back to the demons. He could play pool with Jaehyun, walk Ruby with Johnny. He could finally meet Yuta and figure out if he was worth the forgiveness Mark had given him. Donghyuck had lived nearly two decades already and, for those eighteen years, he’d been happy, content. But meeting Mark had been wild – a whirlwind, a daze, and a crashing together culmination.

How could he possibly convey that to the Devil? How could he possibly bare himself so completely as to make the Devil understand why he was so desperate to make this deal?

Donghyuck inhaled, exhaled. Unbidden, the image of Mark from that morning floated to the top of his mind. His form, outlined in starlight and red neon. His face, relaxed, smiling. The spot Donghyuck had vacated in his bed still warm and inviting.

Donghyuck’s annoyance sapped from him. His urgency drained and all that remained was desperation, as well as the last dregs of wry humor he could dredge up to make himself less pitiful.

“You know what they say,” Donghyuck lifted his shoulders in a shrug, “You do crazy things when you’re in love.”

The Devil’s eyes softened. His flint-hard gaze melted, just barely, almost imperceptible. There was understanding there. Perhaps pity. His pity prickled Donghyuck, but Donghyuck wasn’t in any position to refuse it.

“You don’t truly believe this is crazy, do you?”

Donghyuck couldn’t have denied that if he tried. After a stretch of silence had passed, the Devil shook his head.

“Donghyuck, if I offered you a new deal, would you be interested?”

The buzzing sound in Donghyuck’s ear resumed, this time quicker, almost frenzied.

“What?” Donghyuck asked, breathless, “What do you mean? My soul for Mark’s freedom – I thought that was the deal.”

“Yes. Mark will still go free, and it would still be at the cost of your soul,” the Devil paused. He looked uncertain, for the first time since Donghyuck had met him, “But it doesn’t have to cost you your life too.”

“I – I don’t understand,” Donghyuck’s confusion was audible even to himself, even with the buzzing sound.

“Well,” the Devil’s lip quirked, “Would you like to be a demon?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck issued. He managed to say a, “That’s all?”

Before realizing that, no, he was feeling far too unable to process that offer there in the starlight, with the Devil’s sharp, sympathetic eyes fixed on him.

“Give me a moment, please,” he uttered, speaking politely out of reflex alone.

He pushed off from the table, drawing only as far away as a column before he couldn’t take another step. He didn’t so much sink to the ground as fall, his legs buckling beneath him, weakened and protesting. Donghyuck sat down, his spine pressing against the column, its cool solidity grounding him. He brought his legs up nearly to his chest and hung his head, praying that the Devil wouldn’t follow him, praying that he would give him a few moments at least to think over his offer.

Donghyuck had thought he’d been prepared for every possibility. The idea that he could become a demon with Mark had never even entered his mind.

Donghyuck didn’t know how much time passed before he heard footsteps approaching him. Each footfall was solid, final. Without a ceiling, each came without an echo to soften their sound. He looked up, warily eying the Devil. He didn’t say anything, not as the Devil joined him on the ground, not even as the Devil sat crosslegged by his side, looking up at the stars in the sky as if waiting for Donghyuck to say the next word.

Donghyuck wouldn’t, though. The more he thought on the Devil’s offer, the more obvious his answer became to himself. He wondered if there was a trick to it, some loophole that wasn’t immediately clear.

He faced up towards the stars too, wondering what the Devil could look so lost in. Donghyuck wondered if he knew how many stars there were in all, how many souls there were in his realm, under his control.

Being a demon didn’t seem quite so bad, Donghyuck thought. His eyes slid back to the Devil, tracing the lines of his pointed ears. If he smiled, Donghyuck would see his fangs. Donghyuck wondered how he’d look with ears like that, fangs like that. It was easier, he realized, to think of the superficial things than to think of the magic and of the immortality that came with them.

“You know, none of my demons sold their souls out of love,” the Devil broke the silence, speaking first. Donghyuck stayed quiet, listening.

“For them, it wasn’t love. It was power, money, vanity…”

“Hunger,” Donghyuck added, his thoughts straying, as they always did, to Mark.

The Devil’s gaze fell from the stars to Donghyuck. The white light overhead lit his sharp features in an even starker contrast, making his fangs flash blinding bright as he grinned at Donghyuck.

“Right. Hunger,” his lips slid back over his sharp smile, vanishing it as quickly as it had risen. A frown took up residence on his face, “I didn’t mean to confuse you further. Just – someone with your motivation is… rare, in my experience.”

“Really? As the ruler of Hell?” Donghyuck cracked a feeble joke.

The Devil chuckled, though Donghyuck couldn’t tell if it was gratuitous or genuine. He didn’t have it within him to care all that much. Just hearing the sound of laughter loosed the knot that had grown within Donghyuck from the moment he’d stared at himself in Mark’s bathroom mirror and realized that he had the power to keep them together, for the small price of his soul.

Donghyuck frowned.

“I’m not selfless, though. Whatever you think I’m doing here, it’s not some sort of sacrifice out of the pure goodness of my heart, or whatever you seem to think it is,” Donghyuck looked down at the glassy tiles beneath him, scowling at them, “I’m no better than them. I’m selfish, okay? I just want him.”

“Okay,” the Devil replied, easily, not sounding as if he believed Donghyuck at all. Donghyuck turned his scowl back up at the Devil.

“Forever. I want him forever,” Donghyuck’s heart clenched, “Always. It’s selfish.”

The Devil shrugged, lifting up his shoulder, dropping it.

“Sure,” he said, to Donghyuck’s dissatisfaction, “If you say so.”

Donghyuck bit back another protest. No matter how he tried, he had the feeling the Devil wouldn’t come to see it as he did.

The Devil placed his hands on his knees, and pushed himself up. He rose. As he looked down at Donghyuck, Donghyuck thought he might have caught a smile toy with his lips, curling them up, but it could have just as easily been a trick of the light.

“You don’t need to decide now. I’ll give you time to consider your options,” the Devil said, as he reached down to offer his hand for Donghyuck to take.

Donghyuck’s eyes flicked up from the Devil’s proffered hand to his face, to that flickering smile. He set his jaw, and pushed himself up. It took an embarrassing few moments with how weak he was feeling. Every minute, more energy seemed to seep from him, dissipating into the atmosphere. With effort, though, he was able to stand up on his own.

He stared into the Devil’s eyes. Their gazes were level – when Donghyuck stood up straight, he and the Devil were the same height.

“No need to wait,” Donghyuck said, flippant, “I’d like to be a demon. Sounds like a hell of a lot of fun.”

It went quicker than Donghyuck had expected, from there. It turned out that making a deal with the Devil was easier than getting last night’s homework turned in to your TA. A deal was just a handshake, really. The Devil’s hands were warm, and dry, and softer than Donghyuck could have predicted. That errant thought was all that went through Donghyuck’s mind when he shook the Devil’s hand, sealing the deal for his soul – that the Devil’s hands were unexpectedly soft.

They’d agreed that he would take Donghyuck’s soul then, without a moment spent waiting. Donghyuck didn’t need it for another moment, he couldn’t bear to wait a whole decade before turning into a demon. Patience had never been his strong suit.

He gasped when the Devil reaped his soul. He could feel it leave his body before he ever saw it – the way the already cold feeling worsened within a moment, the way it took a sharp turn and made him feel as if he’d been plunged headfirst into icewater. It was like the dream he’d had, the one in the frozen lake. Only it was real, and all the worse for it. Donghyuck shuddered with the force of shivers wracking his body. He curled in on himself, stumbling back.

Donghyuck glanced up, forcing his eyes open, though the cold was so immense he felt as if he could barely control his own sense. He saw The Devil frowning as he drew his hand back from Donghyuck. A small orb glowed inches above his hand, tinged yellow, like a miniature sun. Its glow faded in and out, though. It flickered like a faulty bulb as Donghyuck watched, forcing breaths in and out, focusing on the light to distract himself. As it blinked in and out, a sound of surprise left the Devil’s lips.

“Your soul’s already been weakened,” his voice was almost achingly level, unaffected. Donghyuck didn’t have the mind to examine that, “If you’d come to me any later… I wonder...”

Donghyuck exhaled, shaking. He slumped lower. The floor seemed like a nice place to be. It wouldn’t be warm, but he couldn’t imagine anything warm. Not then. Anything hotter than freezing seemed cruel to think of, seeming impossible to conceive of. It wouldn’t be warm, but it would be solid. He just needed to rest, he thought.

“Damnit. Donghyuck, just – hold on.”

Donghyuck caught a flurry of movement, as his eyes threatened to fall closed. The Devil did – something – with his hands, and the yellow glow extinguished itself. The room seemed thoroughly dark.

Donghyuck gave in, just a little, to his weakened state. He dropped to his knees, felt a brief shock as they knocked against the hard tiled floor. But that pain was gone in an instant, smothered by the frigid feeling within and without. He wrapped his arms tighter still around his core. The leather jacket was all he had, it was the only thing, he felt, between consciousness and being lost to the cold.

Donghyuck felt a touch, light, tender almost, in contrast to the sharp pervasive coldness. He cracked his eyes open and glanced to the side, to find that the Devil placed his hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. Donghyuck jumped, expecting – something, feeling nothing. He glanced to the pale hand on the black of his jacket, then back at the Devil.

The Devil looked pained, as if he could feel what Donghyuck was feeling, in that moment.

“I hope it’s quick for you. Good luck,” the Devil said, ominous words that barely registered to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck hadn’t time to ask what he meant before his vision was blacking over and he felt himself fall, unable to control his limbs. Donghyuck lost consciousness split seconds later, the ghost contact from the Devil burning through his jacket.

Donghyuck awoke to the sensation of heat. Overwhelming heat. It felt as though he had wildfire flaring through his veins. Donghyuck winced against the feeling, the whiplash from the frostiness he’d endured while last awake. He could feel sweat sticky on his skin, could feel that the neck of his shirt was soaked through with it. He curled in on himself, letting out a groan.

Then – he felt something new. A soft touch brushing his bangs, plastered to his forehead with sweat, off of his brow. A delicate touch of fingers that felt cool and dry, that felt as though they drew some of the heat away just with that light contact.

Donghyuck let out a sigh as he sunk into the sensation of the hand. Its owner carefully continued to brush through his hair though it had already been brushed off from his face. He focused on it, that grounding touch. He didn’t even wonder about it, distracted as he was by the fiery feeling under his skin.

“I know, baby,” came a familiar voice. Donghyuck’s blood would have ran cold if it could, “I know it sucks. It should start getting better soon, though, from what I remember.”

Mark. Of course. Donghyuck should have known. He wanted to keep his eyes screwed shut. He felt too overwhelmed to even consider being confronted with Mark at that moment. He drew in a shaky breath, though the cool air hardly provided any alleviation to the burning feeling filling him head to toe. He cracked his eyes open.

Donghyuck looked up at Mark. He vaguely noted where they were – some unfamiliar room that was mostly understated darkness, with some shining gilt at the periphery of Donghyuck’s vision. Donghyuck couldn’t bring himself to look around any more. He could only focus on Mark’s face. The rest of his vision was vague as if it had been blurred over, while Mark looked down on him with every detail of his visage in perfect definition.

He might have been some part of a dream, some construction of Donghyuck’s mind while the fire coursed through his veins. But he looked so visceral, so real, that Donghyuck couldn’t find it in himself to question the illusion.

“Donghyuck, what did you do?” he asked, his voice low and harrowed. Even utterly soft, it felt too sharp, “Why would you – why…?”

Donghyuck let out a breath of air he’d been holding, closing his eyes as he exhaled. He already felt too guilty. Seeing Mark’s concern just made that guilt surge up. Hearing his questions, his obvious confusion and concern was bad enough. He felt sickened. It was as though the searing fever taking hold of him was an actual illness.

“...Nevermind. I’m sorry. I just – nevermind,” Mark’s voice, for all the feelings of guilt it created in Donghyuck, was still a comfort, “I’ll go see if I can get you a damp washcloth. You’re burning up.”

“No,” Donghyuck gasped, desperate enough to plead.

“No?”

Mark’s voice was closer. Donghyuck felt his panic start to recede. Mark was there. He reached out, grappling blindly for Mark. In a split second that still stretched too long, the tips of his fingers landed on Mark’s knee. He curled his fingers in, just enough to get a weak hold on the loose denim.

“Stay,” he managed, “please.”

He bit back a whimper that was building up in his chest, and scrunched his eyes more tightly closed. He could feel a single bead of sweat crawling down the back of his neck, trailing a wet path that was still no colder than the rest of him. A washcloth sounded nice, but it came at the unbearable cost of Mark leaving his side.

“Alright. Okay. I - I’m staying. I won’t leave you. I’ll just see if I can get Doyoung to…”

Donghyuck didn’t whine. He didn’t. He wouldn’t whine, not as much as it hurt. He’d asked for this. He’d wanted this. He could endure it. He might have sighed though, in relief, just upon hearing Mark’s reassurances. His rambling was comforting in its familiarity.

He cracked his eyes open again. He had to take short, shallow breaths. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as he gazed up at Mark. Mark cut off talking mid sentence, mid word. His hand stilled in Donghyuck’s hair.

Donghyuck had so much he wanted to say – an apology, maybe, for not asking Mark’s opinion before going and selling his soul. A defense of himself. He would’ve done what he did all over again, even knowing what he knew then, even as wildfire burned within him.

Mark’s lips parted before he even had the chance.

“Donghyuck,” he spoke. His voice peaked in the middle of Donghyuck’s name, on the precipice of cracking.

Donghyuck smiled then. He had to. Mark was acting like he was going to die or something, even though Donghyuck knew Mark had to have gone through this before. Mark had to know how it ended – not in death, but in an entirely new life.

Mark’s eyes flitted over his face. He let out a soft sound that might have been pained. Donghyuck let his eyes fall closed, trying to focus once more on not whining or whimpering. He forced his features to remain relaxed, and shifted closer to Mark, moving up and letting his head fall in Mark’s lap.

He felt Mark become completely, totally still beneath him. Nothing happened, not for a long moment. Then a flare of naked heat surged through his body again, and Donghyuck had to wince. He didn’t have time to look away and hide it. A moment after, as the worst of the heat faded to an awful memory, Mark’s fingers carefully threaded through Donghyuck’s hair once more. Donghyuck couldn’t help but arch into their cool, soothing touch.

Real or imagined, he thought, this couldn’t be a nightmare. It was far too much like a dream. The blunt tips of Mark’s nails scratched Donghyuck’s skin and Mark hissed a quick apology. Donghyuck focused on the sound of his voice as fire licked his skin.

Donghyuck dreamed of a lake again. He was drowning, only this time he was in sinking into a pit of fire. Donghyuck saw the fire all around him, his field of vision all crimson and gold. He wasn’t burning, though. He should have been burning, he thought. But he wasn’t. The fire was hot, maybe, but as flames spread across his clothes, he felt nothing more than tickling. It felt like gusts of desert wind, dry and warm, blasting across him.

He was treading, easily staying afloat in the middle of the lake of fire. If he looked across its surface, he could just see the silhouette of a figure outlined in moonlight at the lake’s banks. The lake coughed up a flare of flame and lit up the figure in a spectacular show of yellow and orange and, suddenly, Donghyuck could make out Mark’s features. He looked relaxed in sleep where he lay.

Donghyuck grinned in the dream. He didn’t know whether he kicked forward or simply willed himself ahead but, in a moment, the banks of the lake were drawing nearer, and Mark was coming closer. Donghyuck reached out – and woke up.

If he didn’t know better, Donghyuck would have thought he’d woken up in Heaven. He felt cozy, not cold, not even a touch overwarm. He was nestled under silk sheets that whispered, slipping easily over his skin as he shifted. His body felt utterly relaxed, sated. Exhausted, maybe, but not yet ready to sink back into the luxurious bed beneath him.

He opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Mark’s face. He was laying next to Donghyuck, his eyes closed in slumber. Donghyuck smiled. Or, at least, he began to. He stopped, as his lips spread over his teeth and snagged on a point.

Donghyuck froze. He flicked his tongue out, his heart picking up pace as he ran his tongue over the surface of his teeth. Two fangs scraped against his tongue. Donghyuck sat up with a jolt, raising his hands to his ears, quickly assessing them. Finding that, yes, they ended in two points.

A giggle bubbled up from Donghyuck’s chest. His heart was beating so quick, thumping a breakneck tune in his chest. He pressed a hand to it, trying to calm it down. He pressed his other hand to his lips to muffle the laughter threatening to slip out.

Donghyuck’s gaze slid over, back to Mark.

He traced the lines of his features for what felt like the millionth time. It felt like the first time, though, as he found himself filled with just as much awe as he had been when he’d first seen Mark and realized just what he was. Donghyuck’s hand fell from his mouth. Donghyuck had those same strange features now. Donghyuck shared them.

Donghyuck was a demon, just like Mark.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. A grin spread across his face, “Nice.”

He wondered, his gaze slipping once more to Mark, if he could expect any other changes. He felt lighter, cleaner. It felt as though maybe he had been sick, and maybe the fire had purged some illness from his veins. He felt – awake. He felt eager. He felt excited. He wanted to dance. But he didn’t know if that was a demon thing or simply a Donghyuck thing.

Unbidden, a curl of shocked laughter slipped from him. Donghyuck tried to contain it, tried to hunch in and reel it back in, but he couldn’t help it. Once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. Donghyuck’s shoulders shook with the force of it. His fingers clenched and tightened as his head fell forward. Silk bunched up in his hands as he laughed in Hell, a demon, with his demon boyfriend tucked away by his side.

“You’re awake?” a low rumble from Mark.

Donghyuck’s heart leapt. He turned, beaming, towards Mark.

Mark was frowning, looking for all the world like he was half convinced he was still asleep. He yawned, wide.

“‘re you… okay?” he asked Donghyuck, gradually pulling himself up.

Donghyuck felt affection, hot like flames, pointed, coaxing him to slip closer to Mark. He waited, though, stilled by the sight of Mark still half asleep.

His hair was in complete disarray, a black mess that spiked up in every which direction. His bangs flopped out onto his brow. He had a vestige of the eyeliner still smudged in the faintest gray above his lashline. His pink nails were chipped and bitten down.

And he was beautiful. And he was Donghyuck’s.

Mark blinked, slow, then once more, as if clearing his vision. His eyes widened.

“You – your –”

Donghyuck had no idea what Mark was about to say. He’d had enough waiting though.

“Mine,” he said, and Mark’s mouth snapped shut.

Donghyuck only had to shift to the side a little, then sling his leg over Mark. He kneeled over him, bracketing his hips. Mark looked up at him, wide-eyed, the barest beginnings of a rosy blush blooming across his cheeks.

“Donghyuck, you –.”

Mark still kept trying to talk, despite how much difficulty he seemed to be having summoning words. Donghyuck lowered himself down, sitting on Mark’s lap.

“I’m a demon, yeah,” he wanted to get that out of the way, and move on to more important things. Like what he was doing then, reaching forward, slipping his hand along Mark’s jaw, coaxing his face closer to Donghyuck’s.

“I mean… yeah…” Mark’s eyes fell to Donghyuck’s lips, before shooting back up. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, “We should really talk about that. Like, really.”

“Now?” Donghyuck wasn’t whining. He wasn’t. He may have – jutted his lip out, just a bit. He may have pouted, but only a little, “Right now?”

“Yes,” Mark’s voice was weak though, teetering on the edge of breathless.

“But…” Donghyuck’s eyes were drawn down to Mark’s lips, parted. He nudged Mark’s face upward, and watched entranced as Mark’s eyelids slid down. His breath hitched, the only sound in the otherwise still, quiet room.

All the time in the world, Donghyuck thought. For the first time, perhaps ever, they had all the time in the world.

He wanted to celebrate.

Donghyuck angled in, letting his eyes fall closed. The moment his lips brushed up against Mark’s, a sound escaped him, a soft sigh as the final piece fell into place. Mark moved with utmost care but his lips seared. He moved slow, tentative, then deeper, moving in. It was a new kind of kiss, desperate and needy and seemingly insatiable. It was a navigation, Mark and Donghyuck figuring out how to kiss again with Donghyuck’s new fangs.

Abruptly, Mark pulled back. Donghyuck’s eyes cracked open. He watched as Mark’s face twisted, as he slumped forward, his forehead dropping onto Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“You disappeared,” he said, breathless, uneven, “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Donghyuck’s heart clenched. The fiery feeling that had pushed him forward, compelling him to keep kissing Mark and to keep the heated passion flowing flagged. He could imagine too acutely how Mark had felt. He didn’t need to imagine, actually, how it felt to have someone disappear on you like that with no explanation and no promise of reconciliation.

He’d just been afraid, he realized. He’d been afraid he wouldn’t have had the strength to go to the Devil if he’d woken Mark up. He would’ve wanted to just lay there with him, in that soft morning space, forever.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck said, feeling the weight of the apology and meaning every ounce of it. Mark inhaled, shaky, his shoulders rising. He drew back, and locked eyes with Donghyuck. His cheeks were still rosy with blush, his eyes wide and shining.

“I waited and waited,” Mark continued, “Johnny showed up and I begged him to go to Earth, to your college, to see if you were there…” he cut off abruptly. The grip around Donghyuck’s heart tightened to the point where it felt as though it was trapped in a vice.

“You weren’t there,” Mark’s voice was stricken. He looked more upset than Donghyuck had ever seen him, “And I didn’t know where your parents lived. And I couldn’t ask Johnny to - to keep traveling all over Earth looking for you, when I should’ve been the one –.”

“Mark.”

Donghyuck felt his own emotions bubbling up within him, guilt and panic and the desire to justify himself all warring against each other. He tamped them down, raising his hands to Mark’s face, bracketing the sides of his face gently. He hoped it would serve just as a reminder that he was there, that he was present, that Mark could look at him and feel him.

“Mark, angel, I’m here. I’m okay.”

“You sold your soul,” Mark said, distraught, and Donghyuck’s momentary composure collapsed. He laughed, mostly at the sheer insanity of the statement but, in part, at how upset Mark seemed to be over something that had made Donghyuck happier than he could express.

“At least it was for a good reason?” Donghyuck tried, and failed, to keep his grin off his face, “Better than a sandwich, anyways.”

“Donghyuck…” Mark began, voice distant.

For one dreadful moment, Donghyuck feared the joke had backfired. He slipped his hands from Mark’s face, letting them fall, curling them into loose fists atop his knees.

Mark’s brows drew together, and he continued, thoughtful.

“You know, I’ve lived nearly a hundred years. I can’t even count how many people I’ve met and gotten to know in that time. But out of all of them, out of everyone I’ve ever met, there’s no one like you.”

The tightness around Donghyuck’s heart lessened.

“You’re unbelievable,” Mark said, before letting out a soft sound.

A corner of his lip quirked up, dimpling his cheek. Donghyuck’s hand twitched on his knee. He ached to reach out, but he didn’t know how welcome that would be just then. Mark’s lips were still twisted into that sad half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Why’d you have to do that?” he asked, “Why’d you give everything up?”

Donghyuck remembered the days of emptiness after Mark had vanished. He remembered watching life go on, watching his friends get caught up in themselves and sort themselves out. He remembered the dullness, numbness.

He looked on Mark’s face, at the shadows dulling his gaze, and he felt a surge of – something. Annoyance, perhaps. Indignation, certainly. He could almost hear the sound of the crackling of fire in his ears.  

“Give everything up?” Donghyuck asked, fiercely.

“Your soul –,” Mark insisted.

“It’s gone,” Donghyuck was trying so hard to be patient, but he couldn’t help it, “That’s nothing, though. I don’t give a shit about that, so long as I get to be with you, and you get to be free.”

Donghyuck paused to breathe. Unthinking, he bit his lip and regretted it immediately. His fangs dug deep into the flesh of his lower lip, on just the wrong side of painful. He hissed and released it.

“Donghyuck,” Mark’s eyes flashed with concern.

Donghyuck was paralyzed, helpless to do anything but watch as he lifted his hand and pressed his thumb to Donghyuck’s lip. Donghyuck was thrown back in time as Mark rolled the pad of his thumb over Donghyuck’s lip. Gently, he brushed clean the spot where Donghyuck’s own teeth had bitten through and broken skin.

Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat before resuming, beating quicker. Mark’s touch burne, and he didn’t seem to be moving. His gaze was stuck on his thumb, where it lay on Donghyuck’s lip.

Lips still parted, Donghyuck finally exhaled the breath he’d been holding. Mark blinked, slow, before his eyes flicked up. He blinked again, his gaze clearing. He pulled his thumb off from Donghyuck’s mouth. There was a spot of crimson shining on it, the color of it stark and harsh. Donghyuck’s breath hitched to see his blood on Mark’s skin.

“Thanks,” he issued.

“Yeah,” Mark replied, before swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “Of course.”

Donghyuck struggled to draw breath, all of a sudden.

“I love you,” he said, in a small voice, as he looked on Mark and Mark looked on him, “That’s it. That’s all that I can say to explain myself. I just – that’s why I had to do it. I didn’t… I didn’t have a choice, you have to believe me.”

His throat ached. He ached. It was as if his emotions had grown and hardened and lodged themselves like a rock in his throat. It was as if they were there, a stopper, stemming the full brunt of his feelings from spilling out from his lips. Love on the tip of his tongue. Love consuming him, all he could feel.

 He could hardly breathe with it. It was constricting. It wasn’t liberating. He’d had no choice in the matter. He’d had only one: the choice that led him to Mark.

Mark, who was beneath him, solid as a rock. Mark, who was staring at him with eyes that brimmed with tears that Donghyuck himself couldn’t cry. Mark, who looked as though he knew all too well what was making Donghyuck short of breath.

Mark’s hand fell down. He curled it into a fist, the side of his fisted hand just barely brushing up against Donghyuck’s inner thigh. The slight contact was more grounding than heated, more of a comfort than a compelling promise of more to come. Donghyuck could see the muscles in his jaw working, a tendon jumping out.

“It wasn’t worth it,” he said, into the silence, “I’m not worth that,” he continued, lancing Donghyuck’s heart.

“Don’t say that,” Donghyuck protested, his voice still diminished and small.

“What if you never get to see your family again? What if you don’t get to go to school anymore? What if your friends don’t want to be your friends anymore now that you’re… like me. Donghyuck, you shouldn’t have given your life up – .”

“Stop,” Donghyuck cut in, once the weight of the words coming from Mark became too much to bear.

“Just, please stop,” Donghyuck reached out for Mark, as if he was still drowning, as if Mark was standing on the banks and was his only hope of surfacing. He grasped onto the side of Mark’s face, beseeching him to look at Donghyuck and see him, and to stop trying to see hypotheticals, what-ifs, instead of their current present.

“Put yourself in my place,” he pleaded, “Tell me you wouldn’t have sacrificed just as much for me if you were in my place.”

Mark’s eyes flashed.

“I…” he began, trailing off.

“You have, Mark,” Donghyuck said. He traced his thumb in a slow path along the side of Mark’s face. Distantly, Donghyuck noted that his skin was soft, though there were patches of sharp stubble, signs that he’d been too caught up to shave.

“You gave up so much because you loved me,” Donghyuck shook his head, silently stemming the protests he knew were incoming. Mark pressed his lips into a thin line, but he let Donghyuck continue to speak.

“Don’t think I forgot how this all started,” Donghyuck pointed out, a shy reminder.

He felt the corner of his lip twitch. Because he was half wrong. It hadn’t started with Mark breaking his curse for him. It hadn’t even really started with Donghyuck finding the spellbook in the library and cursing himself. Could it have started with the boy who was starving on a streetcorner in 1939, he wondered. Could that have been when their story really began?

“I didn’t want you to have to give up anything for me,” Mark’s voice was so earnest, his eyes so wide and imploring, “You shouldn’t have…”

“I wanted to,” Donghyuck sighed, drawing back from his straying thoughts. He felt he’d be repeating himself for eternity, for forever. Because that was how long they had now. Forever.

“And it’s not like I gave up my life,” he lifted a single shoulder in a weak shrug, “I’m still around, aren’t I?”

Mark bit his lip.

“Being a demon’s not the same as living as a human, Donghyuck. It’s… better, and worse. I don’t know how to explain.”

“Then don’t. I’ll be figuring it out soon enough anyways.”

Donghyuck resumed tracing the side of Mark’s face with his thumb. He could sense the instant Mark gave in, leaning closer in increments, listing toward his hand. Donghyuck felt his lip corner twitch again.

“You don’t need to worry about how my family will react either. I’m pretty sure they already thought I was a demon to begin with. Okay, they’ll probably be a little upset that I’m literally friendly with Satan now, but…”

Donghyuck paused. Mark looked up at him, leaning into his hand. Donghyuck didn’t know how his friends would react, really. He could hope – but he couldn’t know.

“My friends... they knew about you, and they were alright with that. They knew about the curse, and the magic, and they didn’t think any worse of me for it. I – I have faith that they won’t care that I’m kinda missing a soul now. I don’t think they will, anyways.”

Mark drew in a breath. A moment passed, then, he nodded.

“Your friends seem accepting enough.”

Donghyuck had to laugh.

“Are you kidding me? They’ll probably think it’s cool that I’m a demon.”

The moment Donghyuck said the last word, Mark blanched. He righted himself, pulling away from Donghyuck’s touch.

“You’re too good for this,” he sounded completely sure, “Too… bright. Donghyuck, you don’t suit this life.”

Donghyuck scrunched up his nose. Mark was ridiculous, and hypocritical, and valued himself too little. He was all these things, and they only endeared Donghyuck further. He was stubborn, and charming, and beautiful, and he thought Donghyuck was so loveable. So good. Too good. But Donghyuck was flawed, too. He was selfish. He was just as stubborn, if not more. He’d do anything out of love and, that, he knew Mark would understand.

“How about you let me decide that for myself?” Donghyuck asked, a gentle reproach. He was sure he suited whatever life meant he could have Mark.

“And you are worth it, Mark. You’re worth more than you know… but this wasn’t just about you. It wasn’t about curses, or demons, or guilt, or – it wasn’t about sacrificing something back,” Donghyuck smiled, with hardly any effort.

“This was about me loving you.”

He felt raw, telling Mark all of this, all that he’d held so close. But if he couldn’t let Mark know, then he would be letting himself off the hook. He would be taking the easy way out. He had to tell Mark why he’d done what he had.

Donghyuck paused to allow himself to relax, feeling his nerves rise. Mark wasn’t saying anything. Instead, he sat still. The only sign of movement was the way his eyes flitted over Donghyuck’s features. Donghyuck felt his gaze drag over him, like a ray of heat, a sole sunbeam traversing his skin. Mark’s eyes went to Donghyuck’s ears, his smile – his fangs, Donghyuck wondered – until finally, at last, they landed back on Donghyuck’s eyes.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” Mark’s voice cracked, and Donghyuck felt sure his heart cleaved with it.

Mark’s hand rose and Donghyuck felt shivers trail down his spine as Mark’s fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck. Mark leaned forward, and guided Donghyuck’s head forward as well.

Donghyuck’s heart leapt. He thought that, maybe – but no, Mark only angled him forward just enough so that their foreheads bumped together. Donghyuck’s smile rose again to his face, though. This wasn’t a kiss. But it wasn’t bad, not at all.

He allowed himself a sneaking glance at Mark’s face, at the small frame of it that he could see. He allowed himself to take stock of his fine lashes, of the line of the bridge of his nose, and then he let his eyes fall closed too. He focused on the heat emanating off from Mark and on Mark’s bangs, tickling his skin. He tuned in to the sound of their breathing, slightly out of beat.

“Do you accept that?” he asked, nervous but needing the answer.

“I – I don’t know,” Mark spoke at last, after a pause that threatened to do things to Donghyuck’s heart, “I understand it, though.”

“Good,” Donghyuck exhaled. All it took was four words, and relief flooded him, loosening his limbs, draining tension he hadn’t known was there from his frame. He didn’t need Mark’s full support. He just needed that. His understanding.

“I love you too,” Mark’s voice was so solemn, so serious. He’d hardly even paused before saying the word love. Donghyuck couldn’t help it. He laughed, a bit winded and a bit disbelieving, but a genuine, happy laugh all the same.

Mark exhaled through his nose, sharp, nearly a laugh. He drew away, and Donghyuck only missed him for a second before he pressed back in. Mark’s lips brushed against his for a brief moment that left both Donghyuck wanting and satisfied, all in one.

“You’re a crazy bastard,” Mark said, his voice warmed throughout, and tired, and resigned, “but I love you.”

Donghyuck felt buoyant, the tentative optimism he’d felt when he’d first awoken surging up again in full force. He was hesitant to trust it, hesitant to believe they were in the clear. But for a moment, he let himself relax. He slid his hands over Mark’s jaw, framing it. He stole a kiss, just a quick one, just one that left Mark sighing when he pulled back.

Magic had brought them together, Donghyuck realized. A curse had been the cause of their meeting. And it had taken more than magic to keep them together. A devil, a demon, and transformation, and a soul – so much sacrifice. But together they were, and it looked as if it might last forever.

Sated, at least somewhat, Donghyuck slipped off from Mark and sat by as Mark explained what had happened while Donghyuck had been unconscious. Guilt gripped him as Mark recounted how, while Johnny had searched Earth, Mark had searched Hell. He’d never have guessed where he ended up finding Donghyuck, however.

Mark had searched out Taeyong, set to confess that Donghyuck was in Hell, and that he needed help finding him. He hadn’t had the need to say anything, though. By the time he showed up, Donghyuck was out, shaking, in the beginning stages of his transformation on a bed in one of Taeyong’s guest rooms.

Censured from the shame of putting Mark through that worry, when Donghyuck spoke up, it was in a small voice.

“We’re still in the Spire?” he asked. His eyes fell to the silk sheets rucked up beneath them. It made sense, he supposed. It was dark out, but there wasn’t a hint of red light. In the tallest floor of the Spire, the only evident light source seemed to be starlight.

They were, Mark answered.

Mark offered his hand out after he slipped off from the bed, and Donghyuck took it. He didn’t accept it out of tiredness, or exhaustion, or any feeling that would have made sense after selling one’s soul and exchanging humanity for being a demon. He grabbed Mark’s hand and threaded his fingers through it. He felt that wildfire teeming under his skin, crackling higher with contact from Mark. He accepted because he was greedy. He wanted more.

He felt antsy, as they left the room and walked through a dark hallway. The floor was made of the same glinting black tile that had lined the entrance hall. He could hear voices as they neared the end of the hallway, as it brightened the slightest amount.

Donghyuck slowed, and Mark squeezed his hand.

“We don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to. We can just walk by them. They’ll understand if you’re tired.”

Donghyuck didn’t know how to explain that he was the furthest thing from tired. He was energized. Ever since he’d woken up he’d been electrified, filled with a need to get close to Mark and keep him there.

He sighed, short as, of all things, his mother came to mind. She’d be upset if he failed to show the bare amount of manners.

“I should say hi at least before going home. I feel like I’m going to be seeing a lot more of them and...” Donghyuck trailed off, upon realizing that Mark had stiffened beside him. He looked to him, in question.

There was an incomprehensible look on Mark’s face, his features schooled and difficult to discern in the dark hallway. Donghyuck’s lips parted to ask.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” the cloud covering Mark’s face cleared at Donghyuck’s question. He bit his lip, his pointed fang a flash of light in the otherwise dark hallway, “I was just… you’re leaving so soon?”

Donghyuck’s face must have done something in his confusion, because Mark rushed ahead, launching into another ramble.

“I just thought… maybe you could stay in Hell a little longer with me. But you don’t have to! You could probably go wherever you want, whenever you want now.”

“What?” Donghyuck paused. He raised an eyebrow, “What I want to do is go back to your apartment. I want to be in your bed right now.”

Mark’s lip slipped out from his teeth. There was a pause, and Donghyuck suspected that, were it light enough, he’d be able to see a blush rising across Mark’s cheeks.

“My bed? I – okay. But you said… home…” Mark’s voice carried his confusion well enough.

It was Donghyuck’s turn to feel his face heat. He hadn’t even noticed – it had just slipped out. Mark’s apartment being a home, being his home. He wondered at the slip. It wasn’t not , he thought, with sudden clarity. It was what he thought of, when he first thought of a place to relax, to take solace in after the events of the day. Mark’s apartment was home.

Donghyuck nodded, with conviction.

“Yeah. Once we’re done with the demons, we’re going home.”

Donghyuck detected a sound escape Mark’s lips, an exhalation. At Donghyuck’s words, he relaxed, the tension bleeding from him. They resumed walking, and when Donghyuck allowed himself to glance once more to the side, he caught a smile on Mark’s face. Small, and secret, just the corners of his lips flicked up. Donghyuck looked away from Mark, a smirk spreading across his face.

Donghyuck had feared the entire table would be full up by the time they made it out to the hall. It wasn’t, though. He saw only three figures, standing by it, their heads bowed in conversation.

Johnny was leaning up against the table, his brows knitted together. He was speaking to Taeyong, whose expression Donghyuck couldn’t tell as he was angled away. There was another demon Donghyuck who didn’t recognize, facing towards Taeyong with his lips pressed thin. His hair was black, with bangs cut neatly, styled into a flat style without a single errant strand.

Donghyuck made eye contact with the unknown demon first. His breath caught as their eyes met, but he didn’t stop or slow. Mark’s hand tightened in his.

“That’s Doyoung,” Mark hissed out of the side of his mouth. Donghyuck worried it carried all the way across the wide hall, with the way the trio quieted soon after Mark’s words.

It was a bit surreal, meeting the demons and the Devil so soon after Donghyuck’s transformation. Before Donghyuck could open his mouth to say a word, though, the Devil was speaking. He asked Donghyuck how he was feeling.

Donghyuck stopped abruptly, his lips still parted. He looked to Mark for help, but Mark’s eyes only nodded, encouraging. He looked to Johnny, unsure, but Johnny was even less helpful. He was surveying Donghyuck with a curious expression, puzzled, as if Donghyuck was a knot he couldn’t untangle. Donghyuck looked past the third demon, Doyoung. He couldn’t anticipate what would be waiting for him there, but he knew it wouldn’t help him answer the Devil’s question.

“I feel…alive,” Donghyuck spoke, and found that he meant it. He shook off his nerves, straightening his shoulders, looking the Devil right in the eye.

“You didn’t tell me it would hurt, by the way.”

The Devil barked out a laugh. Johnny snorted too. Mark’s grip on Donghyuck’s hand was a constant, warm and enthralling and reminding him of what he had waiting for him once he and Mark finally got back home.

“You must be exhausted,” Taeyong said, after quieting. He leveled a gaze at Donghyuck that should have left him feeling as if he were prey being hunted. It was all sharp, gleaming fangs and sharp, flashing eyes.

Instead, it gave him a thrill. He wondered how he’d look, if he smiled just like that. He wondered how much Taeyong could teach him, how long he’d been alive, and how much knowledge he’d accrued over the years.

“Oh, yes,” Donghyuck put on an affected tone. He pouted, sticking out his lower lip, “Just completely drained.”

“You should rest,” Johnny looked so vexed, his voice a concerned rumble, that Donghyuck almost felt guilty for playing it up. Almost. Then he snuck a glance at Mark, saw a tendon jump in his jaw as he set it, and the fire within him burned higher. He needed to do something about that, he thought. Quick. He could make it up to Johnny later.

Donghyuck hummed, not wanting to make any promises he couldn’t keep.

Johnny’s face shifted. The confusion, the concern was wiped off. His features, once so imposing to Donghyuck but now only familiar, relaxed. A small smile curled his lips.

“Out of all the ways to solve your problems, becoming a demon is just…”

“He’s crazy, right?” Mark leapt in, earnest. Donghyuck rolled his eyes, readying himself to hear it from Johnny as well.

Johnny’s smile widened to a grin.

“I don’t know. It makes sense, in a way.”

“You would say that,” the other demon, Doyoung, muttered darkly.

The Devil clicked his tongue, before turning a fond smile to Johnny, “He’s a romantic. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Donghyuck looked from the Devil to Johnny, gears shifting, things falling into place. He looked to Mark, whose mouth was twisted as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to smile or to cringe.

While the others were momentarily distracted, Donghyuck leaned in close. Too close, at first. His lips brushed against Mark’s ear, below the pointed tip. Donghyuck pulled back slightly, but not before he felt Mark tremble against him, a shudder coursing through his body.

Donghyuck smiled.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Donghyuck drew back. He was gratified to see Mark’s eyes rake over his face, a yearning in his expression that hadn’t been there when it had been clouded over with concern. Donghyuck’s smile widened.

“Okay,” Mark exhaled, “Let’s go.”

From the Devil’s penthouse, there were a hundred floors until they reached the ground floor.

By the eighty-seventh floor, Donghyuck had Mark pushed up against the back of the elevator. The golden walls were shining, so reflective they might as well have been mirrors. Donghyuck caught glimpses of his own smile, a tilted smirk, as he angled forward to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Mark’s jaw.

By the sixty-fourth floor, Mark’s hands were gracing Donghyuck’s face.

“Donghyuck, fuck…” his voice was breathless, disbelieving, “Can you wait ‘til we get back, at least?”

Donghyuck paused.

“Was it like this for you?” he wondered aloud.

He looked Mark up and down, from his shoes, scuffed boots not unlike Donghyuck’s, to his dark jeans that were unfairly tight, to his black buttoned shirt that was haphazardly tucked into the hem of his jeans. Donghyuck listed forward, hooking his fingers through Mark’s belt loops. He tugged Mark off from the back of the elevator, bringing him close enough to be only centimeters from him. The closer his face got to Mark’s, the warmer his blood ran.

“God, I just want – “ Donghyuck huffed, “ – need it. Need you.”

Mark’s hand threaded obligingly through his hair. The tough surface of his palm brushing softly against the tip of Donghyuck’s ear was both soothing and inciting. It helped. It wasn’t enough.

“Baby, nothing like this ever happened to me.”

As Mark spoke, Donghyuck let his eyes fall closed. He leaned into Mark’s touch, pressing against where his hand was gently stroking Donghyuck’s hair.

“I was scared… I could feel it in me. The magic… the hellfire. I felt – I don’t know. Dangerous.”

Donghyuck’s eyes snapped open. Mark’s expression was distant, but as Donghyuck opened his eyes, his gaze focused back in on him. He smiled, small.

“It was scary, for me.”

Donghyuck’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. He felt his tongue scrape along his fangs.

“I’m not scared.”

Donghyuck recognized the heat then, once Mark had put a name to it. He could have shivered, if he weren’t feeling feverishly warm at that point. He didn’t feel dangerous, not quite. He could feel the fire teeming under his skin. But it didn’t terrify him, not after the initial appearance. He felt powerful, instead.

He felt better than he’d felt, when his soul was draining away as he spent his days as a human in Hell. He felt better than he’d felt, when he was on Earth, slipping through classes, putting in the bare minimum, chasing distractions and brief flirtations just to keep himself entertained enough to make it worthwhile. He felt focused, single-minded. He felt good .

By the twenty-seventh floor, Donghyuck had let go of Mark’s belt loops. He exhaled, as if that would release some of the heat building within him.

“Kiss me,” Donghyuck asked, carefully keeping his voice level, “Please. Just once before we go.”

“The walk back’s going to be torturous, isn’t it? We’re gonna have to teach you how to shadow travel,” Mark’s hand fell from Donghyuck’s hair to the side of his neck. Every point of contact between Mark’s skin and his own made Donghyuck’s nerve endings light up.

“That’d be a nice bonding experience, I’m sure,” Donghyuck could hardly believe he was capable of carrying a conversation, with Mark’s mouth looming closer, his lips parted and inviting.

Donghyuck held his breath as Mark leaned in.

“It’s not bad, once you’ve done it once. You just gotta figure it out the first time, and from then, it’s easier than thinking.”

“Cool,” Donghyuck exhaled, not giving the slightest shit about shadow travelling in that moment, “Sounds fun.”

Mark laughed, seeing right through him, as always. He kissed Donghyuck, and Donghyuck melted against him, his eyes falling closed. It lasted just moments, just long enough for Donghyuck to get a taste of him, rich and sharp and heated. A new fragrance lingered even as Mark drew back. A toasted scent, rich and subtly sweet, that curled through Donghyuck’s senses. Donghyuck sighed, as Mark pulled away from him.

By the ground floor, Donghyuck was trailing behind Mark, smiling.

Hell wasn’t that cold when you had hellfire running through your veins, Donghyuck learned.

The first thing he did when he walked through the door to the apartment was shuck off the leather jacket. He tossed it aside as he backed up onto the bed. He kept his gaze fixed on Mark, never deviating.

Mark’s eyes followed the jacket, then Donghyuck’s arm as it extended out. Donghyuck felt his gaze, as it tracked up the length of his arm. He felt his mouth curl, as Mark’s gaze rose back to his face.

Donghyuck could have sworn he felt the heat surging through him, coursing in just-tolerable waves. He itched to pull Mark to him, but forced himself to stay seated, perched on the edge of the bed as Mark lingered just out of reach.

“What is it?” he asked, when the waiting grew unbearable.

“There’s something… different about you,” Mark said, after a beat.

Donghyuck paused, knowing he wasn’t just talking about the fangs, the pointed ears. He pushed his hand down the length of his thigh to his knee. The feel of the denim beneath his palm was soothing, but not enough. He felt different. A small, insidious part of him chimed in that maybe Mark didn’t like the change, that maybe he’d ruined everything.

As if sensing Donghyuck’s nerves, Mark crossed the rest of the bedroom. He closed the space between them, walking up so he stood between Donghyuck’s legs.

“You’re so pretty, Donghyuck,” Mark said, hushed and hallowed, and Donghyuck fought the urge to sigh in relief. Instead, he flashed a grin, craning his neck to look Mark in the eyes.

“I’ve always been pretty.”

Doubts quelled, he reached for Mark. He shoved his hand beneath the hem of Mark’s shirt, running his thumbs along the top of his pants, and back. He could feel his skin, soft and covered in goosebumps that Donghyuck suspected weren’t due to the chill of the room.

Mark’s eyes flicked down to Donghyuck’s errant hands, then back up. He had an unsure smile on his face, his eyes wide and compelling. Back in the apartment, red was splashed everywhere, everything was cast in crimson. The ruddy flush across his cheeks was unmistakable, even with the lights.

“That was stupid. Of course you were always – yeah,” Mark raised his hand until it was at Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck’s eyelids lowered as Mark’s thumb traced a slow path along Donghyuck’s cheekbone. He shook his head. When he spoke, it was low, as if imparting a secret.

“Shining. You’re shining.”

Donghyuck blinked. When he looked at Mark, when he looked into his eyes, he felt as if he could see himself. Or, at least, he could see the way Mark saw him. The slight smile that pushed his eyes up, how they gleamed, how they never strayed. He didn’t even have to know how he looked to know that Mark thought he looked beautiful. He could read it in every detail of Mark’s expression.

Dongyhuck felt breathless, burning. With his free hand, he held Mark’s hand in place. He tore his eyes from Mark so that he could turn to press a kiss to Mark’s palm. Donghyuck’s eyelids fell lower. He heard Mark’s breath catch. The wind was whistling a soft lullaby outside of the windows, and candlelight flickered low against the walls.

You’re brighter, Donghyuck wanted to say. But he’d seen Mark’s soul. He’d seen his own. He knew how bright both of them shone.

Donghyuck turned back to Mark. He lowered their hands together, then shifted. He moved back on the bed, leaving room in front of him. Donghyuck’s heartbeat picked up pace as Mark lifted his knee to the bed and climbed on, following him.

Wordlessly, Donghyuck reclined. He felt his smile grow across his face, going wider and crookeder, as Mark followed his lead. Mark’s fingers graced Donghyuck’s side, found a strip of exposed skin where his shirt rode high. Mark’s other hand hovered over Donghyuck’s face, the tips of his fingers bare inches from meeting Donghyuck’s lips.

Donghyuck breathed out, and watched in fascination as Mark’s fingers twitched above his lips, as Mark’s lips parted a sliver beyond his extended hand.

Donghyuck wondered if Mark’s favorite color was still pink.

He let his eyes trail up Mark’s forearm, the subtle veins lit up in relief. He traced the lines of Mark’s face, the planes cast in single, flat colors from the lights outside the windows.

The softness of pink wasn’t bad but, Donghyuck thought, he preferred red. Rich, and blazing warm, impassioned and intimate all at once.

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, but he hadn’t a hope of holding back his smile. He reached up to capture Mark’s hand. He brought it to his chest, as he pushed up from the bed with his other hand. Surging up, he angled his head just right. Mark let out a small exhalation as Donghyuck pressed his lips to his.

The kiss started out slow and languid, with Donghyuck’s lips falling open, and Donghyuck swallowing the sounds that escaped from Mark. Donghyuck’s lower lip still ached, just a little, from biting it. Each fresh movement brought a new pulsing reminder of the hurt, of the sharpness of his fangs. The kiss shifted, with Donghyuck taking advantage, nipping lightly at Mark’s lips to coax them to open wider.

He pressed further up as he licked into Mark’s mouth. Mark’s teeth scraped his tongue, and Mark’s fangs knocked against his own. Donghyuck was feeling lightheaded but he didn’t want to break the kiss. He couldn’t. He was drunk on Mark’s kiss, on hellfire, on the magic coursing under his skin. Donghyuck breathed in crisp air and it did nothing to fight the fire within him.

Mark’s hand in his, Mark’s hand laying in a delicate curl around his waist, Mark’s lips shifting softly against his own. Donghyuck needed more. He broke the kiss, spared an apologetic thought for Mark. Then, he hooked his leg around Mark, and flipped them.

Mark let out a grunt of surprise as he landed back against the bed with a thump.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck said, not really meaning it.

Mark looked alright, his eyes cracked open, half lidded. Donghyuck noted that his lips were already darkening, flushed from how Donghyuck had worried them with his teeth. Red, almost, with the blood that had rushed to them.

“It’s fine,” Mark said, sounding so dazed that Donghyuck pulled up short. He paused, frowning.

“Did you hit your head?”

Mark shook his head immediately. When he stilled, the beginnings of a small smile were curling up the corners of his flushed lips. His eyes were glinting, reflecting the crimson lights outside the bedroom windows.

“Nah.”

Donghyuck wasn’t convinced. Mark was still staring up at him, his body unmoving between Donghyuck’s thighs. And warm – Donghyuck’s mind supplied, unhelpfully.

“Then what’s with that look on your face?” Donghyuck persisted. He shifted atop Mark, attempting in vain to find a position where he wasn’t always thinking of exactly how their bodies were situated.

Mark scrunched up his nose.

“You’re just – well, I’d say you’re full of surprises but, after you went and turned into a demon, I don’t think anything you could do would surprise me. Everything you do just confirms what I already knew.”

Donghyuck was starting to smile back. He relaxed, angling in towards Mark so that he could speak in a lower voice.

“Oh?” he prompted, “And what’s that?”

“You’re crazy,” Mark said, resigned and fond all at once.

Donghyuck hummed, noncommittal. He walked his fingers up Mark’s chest as he leaned in closer.

“I’ve made… my peace with it, though. What are you – ?”

Mark stumbled over his words as Donghyuck flicked the collar of his shirt aside. He recovered, but only just. Then Donghyuck was lowering his head. He pressed a kiss to the newly exposed part of Mark’s chest, a gentle brushing of his lips to the side of the still-healing tattoo. A small, reverent gesture honoring the ‘always’ that would now be able to hold true.

Mark let out a hitching exhalation as Donghyuck drew back. Donghyuck’s eyes flicked up, gauging his reaction. Mark’s eyes were heavy lidded, his lips still parted and dark. It brought back to mind the crimson liquor from The Maw, its taste sweet and tart and rich.

The thrum of heated blood through his veins could be the swelling strings of a symphony, Donghyuck thought, dazed. The culmination of a lasting musical piece. Donghyuck pulled himself up, facing Mark head on.

Donghyuck slid up as close as he dared, feeling Mark’s body, warm and solid between his thighs. He lifted his arm and raised his hand to Mark’s chin, holding it steady with a knuckle of his crooked index finger.

A slight choked-off noise escaped Mark’s lips, and Donghyuck felt his smile go crooked. It had been a day of changes, of world shifting alterations. With that in mind, Donghyuck dared to try something new. He angled in closer, catching a hint of Mark’s scent, sharp and heated and metallic. He flicked out his tongue and licked across Mark’s lips, a brief, glancing contact that sent his heart thrumming and his blood pumping.  

Mark let out a sound that could only be termed a hiccup. Donghyuck’s smirk widened, and he repeated the motion, flicking out and running his tongue over Mark’s parted lips.

“Fuck,” Mark breathed out, low.

Donghyuck cracked his eyes to view Mark’s face, his cheeks blooming a bright crimson. his lips parted and shiny with spit.

“What’s that?” he couldn’t keep the satisfaction from his tone.

“You as a demon,” Mark’s voice was stunned, almost awestruck, “I just… that shouldn’t be allowed…”

“‘re you scared?” Donghyuck teased, drawing back in close.

“Terrified,” Mark replied, his voice so raw and honest that Donghyuck had to withdraw just to laugh.

“You should be excited,” Donghyuck replied, before angling back in, and capturing Mark’s lips with his.

He planned to show him exactly why. If they were mortal, he would’ve said that his aim was to kiss Mark within an inch of his life. Instead, he’d stop when Mark was giggling and breathless and every last trace of tension was gone from his frame. Only then, would he draw back. Until then, he’d give into the fire in his veins, compelling him forward.

Chapter Text

The morning of Christmas Eve came without sunrise or snowfall. It was soft all the same, though the sky outside of their apartment windows was black as ever, and the streets below stretched out damp and dirty.

Donghyuck wasn’t cold, but he wasn’t cozy warm, either. He roused from sleep feeling the lack of Mark’s arm around him. He blinked awake, then rolled over.

Mark was up, seated, the tip of his pen scratching soft and gentle against the paper of his notebook. His pen stilled as Donghyuck’s fingertips brushed against him. His eyes slid to the side. Easy as ever, a smile rose to his lips, a corner curling up.

Donghyuck hummed. His eyelids still felt heavy. He wanted to sleep in for a couple hours yet, but Mark was up. From the looks of it, he’d been up for awhile yet.

“Morning,” Mark said.

“Good morning,” Donghyuck replied, before his sleepiness could get the better of him. A yawn escaped, and he curled away his hand to smother it up.

Mark laughed, light. Donghyuck poked his side, then shifted up closer to him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Mark’s side. Mark stretched out his hand, pausing the briefest moment before reaching out to Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered closed, and stayed that way, as Mark’s thumb and forefinger traced the edge of his ear.

Mark had been doing that a lot in the week since Donghyuck had become a demon. Donghyuck felt it was taking him longer to adjust than it had taken Donghyuck himself.

His hand stilled and laid resting on Donghyuck’s head, in his hair, as the sound of pen started up again.

“Why’re you awake so early?” Donghyuck asked, not quite wanting to sleep, much preferring laying and listening to Mark speak.

A pause.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Donghyuck opened his eyes, no longer feeling quite so tired upon picking up a weighted note in Mark’s voice. Mark was frowning down at his notebook, tapping his pen against it in a slow, even rhythm.

“Nervous?” he asked, mild.

Christmas Eve meant going back to Earth, back to his parents.

Donghyuck had actually been back once already since becoming a demon, just to check in and lay everything bare. He hadn’t allowed Mark to go with him though. He’d gone by himself, through the Hellmouth since he still hadn’t quite mastered gathering shadows together for shadow travelling between worlds.

His mother had crumpled when he’d told her the truth, the whole truth, of the spellbook, the curse, Mark, all of it. Her face had fallen, and Donghyuck’s heart with it. She’d been so crestfallen, and Donghyuck’s stomach ached just remembering the disappointment written so clearly on her face. She’d explained in a broken, small voice, how sorry she was that Donghyuck had felt he couldn’t have shared any of this with her as it was going on.

She was upset, too, she further confessed. She didn’t understand Donghyuck’s recklessness, or his stupidity, or how much he’d sacrificed. Donghyuck had hung his head, unable to bear the full brunt of her confusion, the disappointment radiating off from her palpable waves.

“You had your whole life ahead of you, Donghyuck,” she had spoken, her voice wet and teary, easy to recall even days later, “Your whole life....”

Donghyuck remembered how he’d held his breath and bit his tongue to keep from spitting out something caustic, something he’d regret later. He suspected she was more upset about the fact that Donghyuck didn’t quite feel like becoming a doctor anymore than the fact that he’d turned into a demon. He held back his comments on how he still had a life ahead of him, a longer one, with the love of his life, and that maybe it was the hurt on her face that had kept him from telling her for so long.

Hellfire in his veins lapped at him, heating him throughout, though his parents kept the air conditioner in their house fixed at a permanently too cool temperature.

“I still do,” he’d said, eventually, “the only thing that’s changed is what I’ll be doing with it.”

He’d reminded himself of the Devil in that moment, how he’d stared Taeyong down even when it felt as though his heart might leap out from his chest from the fear. He’d pushed his gaze up. His mother’s eyes kept flitting to his ears, the tips of them pointing through Donghyuck’s hair.

“I need a haircut, don’t I?” he asked, innocuous, as though that was what she was thinking.

His mother’s gaze had swung back to him, something else creeping in amidst the teariness. Let it not be fear, Donghyuck recalled thinking. Please let that be something other than fear.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” she’d said, her voice cracking. She’d reached forward, clasped his hand, and pulled him close to her. Donghyuck had stilled, frozen in his mother’s arms.

“I’m so sorry, sweet,” she’d said, and began to stroke his back as she’d done when Donghyuck was half his height, when the world still held so much brand new things and he was still so easily excitable. The calming motion had been the only thing to put him at ease as a child. Even then, all of eighteen years old, a demon, Donghyuck felt his heartbeat slow. His eyes fell closed, and his arms rose and wrapped loosely around his mother’s waist.

“I suppose… you’re stuck with this now. There’s not an undo switch, is there?” his mother had joked, and Donghyuck’s mouth had tasted bitter.

His heart ached even remembering. He’d stayed in his mother’s arms, listening to her hushed confusion, her questions, feeling acutely how much had shifted and changed over the years, since they’d last been in that position.

He knew how fallible adults could be – they could be just as bad as Donghyuck and his friends. His own mother admitting feeling lost and confused struck him, though. His arms had tightened around her.

He’d assured her, as best he could, that he had good people surrounding him, both on Earth and down below. He’d sold his soul but he wasn’t about to give up his humanity, if he could. He knew he hadn’t convinced her, and he knew without her approval, his father would be a tough sell, but Donghyuck had left his parents’ house with a standing invitation for both him and Mark for the Lee Family’s Christmas Eve party.

Heart aching, teeth clenched, eyes stinging, Donghyuck had gone back to the Hellmouth in the middle of the abandoned college campus, and he’d slipped through, going back home.

He’d told Mark of the whole exchange, leaving nothing out, not his mother’s hesitance or the fact that she thought he’d made a mistake. Donghyuck didn’t regret being so truthful, not exactly, but he wished he could have softened it.

Mark seemed to be even more nervous for the party and for meeting Donghyuck’s family than Donghyuck was.

“Why would I be nervous?” Mark asked, drawing Donghyuck from his reverie.

Mark’s voice was weak, and his gaze was trained securely on his journal. Donghyuck knew his tells. He stayed silent, looking down from Mark’s face to his hand. His fingers, loosely curled, brushed up against the soft fabric of Mark’s cotton pajama pants.

As if absentmindedly, as if casual, Donghyuck started to move his hand. In a slow, gentle rhythm, he brushed up a stretch of Mark’s leg. Mark’s breath hitched. Donghyuck shifted, dragging his hand down. Mark exhaled.

“It’s just…” Mark spoke up, his voice turned contemplative, “it’s just that most people don’t like demons, you know? Your mother and father...”

Donghyuck looked up at Mark. In the morning, the world dark around them, Mark’s face lit by crimson and candlelight – it felt fragile, but it also felt untouchable. It was soft there, in the bed, but the worries of a world above their heads couldn’t quite reach them.

“I can’t guarantee they’ll love you first thing,” Donghyuck admitted. They were trying truthfulness lately, in everything.

The shadows cast across Mark’s features shifted, going harder, darker. Donghyuck kept up the gentle stroking motion up and down the side of Mark’s thigh. Unwavering, he continued.

“They’ll come around, though. We’ve got all the time in the world to wait them out,” Donghyuck paused. He bit his lip, “Would it help if I told you that you’re probably the best guy I’ve ever brought home to them?”

Mark’s lip corner twitched.

“I’m not sure what that says about your taste in guys.”

Donghyuck’s heart buoyed up and he had to shift, and rise up with it. He grinned at Mark, still not quite over how different it felt to smile with fangs.

“It says more about you than them, actually.”

Though in the days since the transformation, the most urgent, the most compelling waves of heat that had wracked Donghyuck had waned, he still felt an undeniable something as he drew close to press a kiss to the corner of Mark’s lips. It wasn’t anything heated, Donghyuck not being brave enough to attempt anything more than a peck on the lips so soon after waking, but Donghyuck’s body reacted all the same. It was as if Mark’s proximity was a reminder of who he was, who they were. A low, crackling fire, like one in a hearth in a home, burned within him as he drew back.

Mark looked unsure, even as a smile spread across his lips.

“What does it say about me?” he asked, possibly fishing, definitely cheeky.

Donghyuck scrunched up his nose.

“That my taste’s improved, at the very least,” Donghyuck returned, his smile going crooked. With that he pushed away. If he didn’t force himself away from Mark soon, he’d be tempted to turn that small peck into something more, and waste the morning with him.

Donghyuck stretched his arms out, sighing as his muscles lengthened and released the little tension they’d held. He nearly bounded out of bed, his bare feet alighting on the cool cement floor.

“Come on, angel. I’m starved.”

After a slow breakfast spent more wrapped up in each other than in eating their food, Donghyuck and Mark showered and readied themselves for the journey back above.

Donghyuck threw on a black button up made of some slinky fabric that glinted in cool shimmering tones when he moved, not thinking much of it either than that it had to have been a present from Taeyong, and an unwelcome one at that. He hadn’t seen Mark wear it at all since they’d been together. Mark fussed over his own outfit, though, standing frowning at two shirts laid out on the bed cover, brows furrowed.

“Which one do you think your family and friends would think is more… “ Mark huffed, his shoulders hiking up high, “I dunno. Presentable?”

Donghyuck quirked a brow at that. He didn’t know what word Mark had been about to say, but he doubted it was what he ended up with.

Donghyuck drew over to the bed, fingers alighting on Mark’s waist, his arm stretched across his back as he reached over to run his hand along one of the shirts. It was black too, the floral patterned one Mark had been wearing that first day Donghyuck had crashed into Hell.

“I liked you in this,” Donghyuck’s eyes flicked to the side, and his newfound confidence took a hit at the sight that greeted him. Mark’s eyes, wide and earnest, the tip of his sharp fang just jutted out over his lip.

“But you’d look nice in both.”

Mark’s lips hardly quirked, but his eyes glinted, warm and secret and hidden. Donghyuck didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or impressed at how quickly Mark had clued in that nice meant devastating, sexy. Without a moments’ hesitation, Mark reached for the shirt. He pulled it on as Donghyuck pulled back.

Donghyuck walked up behind him as he stood in front of the full length mirror in the corner of their bedroom. He was playing with his hair but not succeeding much in fixing it. He slipped in the small space between Mark and the mirror, doing up one more button on his shirt, righting the collar of it to fully conceal the tattoo.

He glanced up at Mark, feeling almost sheepish.

“Really?” Mark asked, his voice low, rumbling, much too close. His breath smelled of spearmint mouthwash. He had cologne on, Donghyuck noticed. He didn’t usually wear cologne. He smelled different, rich and musky and dark and somehow unlike himself and exactly right all at once.

“The demon stuff’s going to be okay with them, but the tattoo isn’t?”

Donghyuck shrugged, not pointing out that he never said the ‘demon stuff’ would be alright. No need to worry Mark further.

“I’m not taking any chances. Besides, you don’t want Jaemin catching sight of that. He’ll never let you live it down.”

“You’re always looking out for me,” Mark said it as if he being ironic, his tone a touch too sincere, but his gaze kept betraying him, warm and fond.

He lowered his hands from his hair, apparently giving up on that lost cause. Mark dropped his hand to clasp it loosely around Donghyuck’s wrist, his hand warm through the sleeve of Donghyuck’s shirt.

“I like your outfit, by the way,” a thrill through him, as Mark’s eyes travelled down and back up, lasting, “All black. That’s... nice. The liner… that’s nicer.”

“You can try and impress people,” Donghyuck murmured, “I’m setting out to give them a scare.”

“Right. You’re a big scary demon now,” Mark’s eyes danced with flickering candlelight.

“That’s right,” Donghyuck grinned, baring his fangs.

Mark tossed his head back, letting out a laugh, and Donghyuck felt his hellfire rise higher, crackling, burning. Mark levelled his gaze back down after just a moment, his eyes crinkled up into twin crescent moons.

“Cute,” he snorted, sliding his hand down Donghyuck’s forearm, slipping closer.

“I think you mean terrifying,” Donghyuck angled his head back, grinning as Mark’s lips came just shy of his own.

Mark locked eyes with him, pinning him, his smile wide.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you are,” he leaned in, bypassing Donghyuck’s lips, brushing his lips lightly over Donghyuck’s jaw.

Donghyuck exhaled, his thoughts and protests chased away. His head fell back against the mirror, the metal cool against the crown of his head, as his body melted, heated. His frame relaxed, as Mark nosed at his jaw.

“Careful. Hickeys aren’t really in the Christmas spirit,” he warned, breathless.

He felt Mark’s laugh at the same time he heard it, warm puffs of air against the sensitive skin of his neck. Donghyuck relaxed, not quite slumped, letting Mark and the mirror behind him take his weight. His eyes slid closed. They had awhile yet before they had to be up above. They could have a bit more fun.

There was something about boots with a slight heel and some careful application of eyeliner that made Donghyuck feel bold, as he stalked up the walk to his parents’ house. The party looked to be in full swing, strings of multicolored fairylights draped over every which window of his parents’ suburban home, silhouettes of people crossing in front of the yellow lights the glowed from within.

There was something about Mark at his side that made him feel better, though. It wasn’t being a demon, not really. That wasn’t all that emboldened Donghyuck and made him straighten his shoulders and stand up tall as he rapped on the front door. It was a little bit of that heat within him, the hellfire, and the magic thrumming just under his skin. It was a little bit of the haughtiness he knew wasn’t sourced from becoming something new but, rather, being loved as completely as Mark loved him.

The door swung open, and his little sister’s face came into view. Her eyes were wide. Her hair was longer than Donghyuck recalled it being since he’d seen her last at the start of the fall semester, but otherwise she looked unchanged.

“Hey, Lami.”

Lami’s eyes darted to Mark, then back to Donghyuck. She’d missed seeing him when he dropped by earlier to let his mother and father know about his changes. Her eyes grew wider still, as wide as saucers, as she traced his ears, before landing on his teeth.

“Jesus, Hyuck. You really did it,” her lip curled, but her eyes glinted, as she directed her gaze back to Donghyuck’s. A weight Donghyuck hadn’t even realized was there lifted, as she looked him right in the eye.

“I sure did. Let us in already. There’s people here that I actually want to see.”

“All that and you’re still an asshole,” Lami deadpanned, stepping aside and opening the door wider to let them through. Mark looked miffed, confused almost. Donghyuck, for his part, could barely hold back a bark of laughter. He hurried Mark through the door when he caught Lami’s eyes drifting, travelling over Mark, blatantly checking him out.

“And who is this?” she asked.

The intrigue in her voice would have been annoying if Donghyuck didn’t know how far gone Mark was for him. As it was, instead of prickling and scowling as he might have done a few months prior, he just laid a crooked grin on her.

“Mark.”

Mark cleared his throat, reaching out behind Donghyuck.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Donghyuck’s boyfriend. Hi.”

Donghyuck shook his head to keep himself from doing something stupid like repeating Mark, reiterating that they were boyfriends. He so loved the sound of that title coming from Mark. He waited as they shook hands. His sister stared blatantly, seemingly more shaken by the fact that he’d gotten a boyfriend than the fact that he’d turned into a demon.

“Oh wow,” she said, in a small voice, her hand still clasped around Mark’s though the handshake should have run its course by then, “Wow. You’re – huh. You’re a demon too.”

“A little bit, yeah,” Mark laughed, sheepish. He extricated his hand from Lami’s, only to lift it and scratch the back of his hair.

As they walked deeper into the house and Mark stepped a half step back, Lami drew up to Donghyuck. Though he’d never tell her, he felt immeasurably grateful for the way she didn’t shy away from him.

She came up close and hissed in his ear, “Hyuck, he’s so cute . This has to be a joke.”

“Really? You can believe the demon thing but not this?” Donghyuck whined back at her. His cheeks were heating up. He hoped Mark couldn’t overhear him, “He’s got a tattoo in my handwriting. That’s not a joke.”

“...Where is it?” Lami returned, after a beat, looking far too interested for Donghyuck’s liking.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to answer, only to go mute moments after. He froze, as they drew into his parents’ living room. He walked in and immediately locked eyes with Jeno across the room. He glanced away, only to find himself looking at Renjun, to his side and, further, Jaemin on the other side of Renjun.

It was as if the air was sucked from the room, vacating his lungs. Donghyuck’s senses dulled, aside from the sight of his friends.

He’d texted them, as he’d said he would. A little update, just when he was on Earth for a few hours when he’d visited his mother, an ‘you guys won’t believe the shit i got up to in hell. gotta go. let’s talk later’.

He’d thought of them. Of course he had. He’d probably imagined their reactions to meeting him since his change a million different ways, in a million different scenarios. And so many of them, far more than he would have liked, ended poorly. Donghyuck took a deep breath in. He glanced to his side, just as Mark pulled even with him.

Lami flitted off, presumably to find something more interesting to do, like spreading gossip about demon Donghyuck and his demon boyfriend. Mark looked to him, his mouth a thin line.

Donghyuck shot a grin back at him, trying to inject every bit of surety he still possessed into it. No need to be nervous, he tried to project. What did a couple of demons have to be nervous about, after all? Mark made a face, crinkling up his nose as a reluctant grin curled up his lips.

With the knowledge of Mark’s presence beside him strengthening him, Donghyuck turned back to the room. His friends were already crossing it, nearly there. Jeno was smiling so wide and Jaemin’s smile mirrored his. Renjun had a smaller, almost disbelieving smile on his face. As they drew closer though, Donghyuck was able to catch the shift in their expressions, how each of their smiles fell as they realized what was different about him, one by one.

Donghyuck’s heart thudded, as he looked at them.

Jeno was first to speak, his lips parting, “Wait, what the fuck?”

Donghyuck might have rushed through explaining the demon thing. He’d already done it twice over, for Mark and his mother. He put it succinctly for his friends.

“So I had to cut a bit of a deal…”

They took it better than he’d thought they would. They took it better than his parents had, or even his sister. Jeno kept asking him to go over the mechanics of the transformation process, while Jaemin seemed to want to know more about the demons Donghyuck had encountered than anything he’d experienced. Renjun sipped blissfully at his drink, snorting every time Donghyuck recounted something even slightly mystical or inexplicable. Once, he even shook his head and went “Of course…” as Donghyuck had explained the Devil and his hellhound puppy.

Donghyuck was smiling by the end of it, relaxed and easy and so, so grateful for his friends. Maybe him turning into a demon wasn’t all that jarring, he supposed, compared to the rest they’d seen – the Hellmouths and the heartbreak, and even just the slog that was college exams.

“Something about you as a demon… feels different?” Jeno said, hours later, when night had fallen and the four of them and Mark had migrated outside to the lawn chairs on Donghyuck’s parents’ patio.

They sipped on glasses of cheap wine, half emptied out bottles nicked from under their parents’ noses. The few people who’d eyed Mark and Donghyuck strangely in the thick of the party had seemed to be focused on their dark outfits, perhaps Donghyuck’s eyeliner. They seemed too bothered by their lack of Christmas sweaters to notice their ears and fangs. But it never hurt to get away from prying eyes.

“Hot,” Jaemin snorted, “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

Donghyuck was sitting close enough to Mark, perched on the arm of Mark’s chair, that he could feel Mark tense. Mark’s hand had been carelessly rested on Donghyuck’s hip but, when Jaemin had spoken, his fingers twitched against Donghyuck’s belt.

Donghyuck leaned back, a smile working its way across his face as he glanced to check out Mark’s expression. It was priceless. His brows were drawn close together, a single fang jutted out over his lip. His gaze was on Jaemin, not quite angry, or upset. It was more like he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Confusion.

Donghyuck thought it was a cute look on him. He was toying with the idea of saying something to clear it and soothe Mark’s worry but, at the same time, he almost wanted to make Mark’s brow furrow further.

“Babe, you’re going to give Mark an aneurysm,” Renjun sighed, cutting Donghyuck’s train of thought off, and his plans with it.

Renjun might have drunk the least wine out of them all, but he already had a dreamy expression on his face. His eyes had lazily fallen on Mark, though his head was held tilted up towards the sky. It was half clouded over above their heads, dusky, an indigo violet haze dotted faintly with stars. It made Donghyuck’s heart twinge, because the contrast between dark and light wasn’t so great, because the formations looked unfamiliar. But it wasn’t too bad.

“Oh shit,” Jaemin said, drawing Donghyuck from his reverie. He glanced back down, as Jaemin was saying, “Sorry. But, like… he is?”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck said, level. Jeno looked unsure too, his gaze flitting back and forth from Mark to Jaemin.

“He’s alright,” Renjun spoke slowly, each syllable coming out crisp, “He looks a little like a punk band reject but he is less dorky than he used to be.”

Donghyuck’s smile grew more crooked yet.

“Ouch,” he said, just to placate Renjun. He was pleasantly tipsy at least, it seemed, unbothered by everything. Even Jaemin flirting with Donghyuck didn’t seem to annoy him. Donghyuck wondered how much he’d missed between them, while he’d been in Hell. Their relationship seemed different, less tumultuous.

“He’s not just hot,” Mark spoke finally, stiffly. Then, as Donghyuck looked to him, Mark glanced Donghyuck’s way. His tone shifted to earnest as he said, “You’re more than hot, okay?”

Donghyuck looked at his expression, his widened eyes that brimmed a bit too shiny in the light, and wondered if he’d perhaps drunk a bit too much wine as well.

“Thanks, angel,” Donghyuck pressed his lips together to hold back his fond grin.

He adjusted, slipping from the arm of the chair, sliding down to join Mark. He was strewn half over Mark, a tangle of limbs in the cramped lawn chair, precarious at best. Mark’s face was suddenly so much closer. He blinked. He seemed shocked, but his hand had snaked around Donghyuck’s waist, stabilizing him, automatic. His arm was warm around Donghyuck, his hand tensed.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Donghyuck said and, ignoring Renjun’s resultant giggle, he reached forward and pinched Mark’s ear, as he used to.

“...I just meant that he looked more confident…” Jeno muttered, loud enough to be overheard. Donghyuck exhaled, short, drawing his hand from Mark’s ear.

“Injun, why aren’t you sitting on my lap?” Jaemin whined.

“Hm,” Renjun hummed, in the background, as Donghyuck couldn’t quite look away from Mark.

He found that the longer he spent looking at him, the hotter his blood seemed to flow, the more he wanted to list forward and close the gap between him. Mark was warm beneath him, the discomfort of sitting on his lap outweighed by the feel of the flex of his thighs. Donghyuck exhaled, even. He was getting better at ignoring the burn, though. He tore his gaze from Mark’s, with little effort.

Renjun had splayed his legs out wide, leaving a space between them. He patted lightly on the ground, a dreamy smile still on his face.

“You sit here instead. C’mere.”

Donghyuck laughed as Jaemin did as he was told, obligingly rising from the couch and settling in between Renjun’s legs. Renjun looked pleased as he hooked his chin on Jaemin’s shoulder, letting his eyes fall closed. Mark laughed, soft and a touch dazed, shifting underneath Donghyuck. It might have been accidental but, as he moved, his hand on Donghyuck’s hip acted as a guide, and Donghyuck was shifted squarely onto his lap.

“Jeno, Jeno, Jeno, come sit with us,” Jaemin called, ushering Jeno close.

Donghyuck felt laughter bubbling up again as Jeno also rose without protesting and went to Renjun and Jaemin. He quieted just a moment later, as he felt Mark’s lips brush up against the crest of his ear, his breath warm on the side of Donghyuck’s cheek.

“Wait, is he…?”

Donghyuck turned, twisted. He had to lift one of his legs to pull it off, but then he was faced with Mark’s eyes. The lighting in the patio was scarce, the blueish LED lamps far away on the side of the house casting them all in shadows. Mark looked odd in blue. Not bad, just strange, intriguing.

Donghyuck had gotten lost, he realized. Mark had asked him something. He inhaled, sharp. Shook his head.

“No way. Jeno loves them but… not like that.”

Donghyuck’s eyes traversed Mark’s face. The rest of them were shivering, all bundled up and sitting together. But he felt overwarm, heated. He needed the chill of Hell, he thought, faint. He twisted even further to face Mark head-on.

“Hey,” he started. His voice came out lower than he’d anticipated. He heard a hitching sound – Mark’s breath catching, “Are they looking?”

Mark’s eyes flitted from Donghyuck’s only to swing right back.

“Not really?” he said, not sounding quite sure on that.

Donghyuck exhaled, “Good enough.”

He leaned forward, and stole a kiss. Just one, just for a second. It didn’t sate the fire, but he pulled back before he got carried away. He saw a small smile grow on Mark’s face.

“That’s it?” Mark asked, his eyelids falling lower.

Donghyuck refused to flush. He was a demon. Demons didn’t blush. But, oh no, they did, he thought, as he looked at Mark. They really did.

“For now.”

Mark’s smile widened. He listed back against the chair, gaze on Donghyuck.

“Huh.”

Donghyuck turned from him, if only to hide his blush. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun did seem to be distracted, engaged in conversation. Renjun kept tilting Jaemin’s face towards the sky, pushing up his chin. Jaemin kept levelling his head back down. As Renjun’s frustration with Jaemin’s refusal to stargaze grew, Jeno’s laughter filled the wintry air.

They talked into the night. Donghyuck grew closer and closer to nodding off as he sipped more of his wine, and Mark drew him closer and closer as he sipped his. It was stilted, a little. There was a shift, of course. There was a new person to accommodate, and his friends kept breaking out into unprompted laughter at the fact that Donghyuck had pointy ears and magic. But Donghyuck and Mark’s stories of Hell filled the awkward gaps.

Donghyuck had promised he’d stay for most of Christmas Day, so he bid Mark goodbye and under his parents’ watchful eyes slunk back into his childhood bedroom. He supposed it hadn’t been too long since it had been his bedroom, full stop. Just half a year – not even. But the computer gathering dust on his desktop and the soccer ball and cleats crowded in the corner felt like they belonged in another life, to another person.

He sighed as he slid under his covers. The buzz from the wine was lasting. His head felt muted, his thoughts blooming and wilting like those videos they showed in biology class of flowers going through their growth cycle in fast forward. He rolled over and curled up onto his side. His parents were still struggling with accepting what Donghyuck had chose to do to himself. They’d greeted him politely, and they’d even made (terse, awkward) conversation with he and Mark. But the flash in their eyes upon taking in Donghyuck’s new appearance couldn’t be concealed.

Donghyuck closed his eyes, exhaling. He had his friends’ approval, his sister’s... he even had the demons’ blessing and Satan himself. He reminded himself of that, but it did little to dull the rough ache in his chest. The hellfire helped, somewhat. He knew he ought to have felt cold, as he often had when he lacked. But he didn’t then. He just ached.

A soft thump, then another, then another. The sound of footfall muffled by carpet. Donghyuck cracked his eyes open to see Mark in front of him, his hand outstretched as if he’d been reaching for Donghyuck. It was frozen though, paused in the middle of movement, paralyzed by Donghyuck’s now-open eyes.

“Hey,” Mark uttered, in a whisper.

“Hello,” Donghyuck greeted back, finding himself distracted in Mark. He seemed to have just appeared right in Donghyuck’s room, bypassing the potential for getting caught by Donghyuck’s family.

Mark drew his hand back. He cleared his throat.

“Thought you might like some company.”

Donghyuck found himself smiling already as he slid back to make space on the tiny bed. It had to be even smaller than the bed they’d shared in Donghyuck’s dorm, Donghyuck thought, as Mark kicked off his boots. He picked up the cover and slid underneath, his knobbly knees knocking up against Donghyuck’s, his face filling Donghyuck’s field of vision.

Tired, and not feeling up for much, Donghyuck snaked his hands under the hem of Mark’s shirt, sliding them up his back. He was so, so warm. Despite this, he had to suppress a shiver as he cuddled up closer, tucking his face into Mark’s chest. He could feel Mark’s hand drop lightly into his hair, his movements gentle, soothing.

“Just admit it,” Donghyuck sighed before breathing in, inhaling Mark’s scent. The smell of the cologne he’d used earlier was lasting, but far subtler, its muskiness overwhelmed by the sweet, sharp, heated scent Donghyuck had grown used to.

“What?”

Donghyuck was glad Mark couldn’t see his face. He wouldn’t have been able to keep it straight.

“You already missed me.”

A pause, long enough that Donghyuck was already on his way to drifting off when the silence was broken. His lids had fallen low, and the bubbling of his sister’s fishtank from her room across the hall was just barely audible, the only sound he could hear aside from Mark’s heartbeat in his ears. Thump-thump, thump-thump, a steady rhythm that was slow, even. No panic, no rushed pace, only calm.

“Always,” Mark said.

Mark’s hand, which had stilled in Donghyuck’s hair, slipped lower to the nape of his neck. His thumb stroked lazily across the sensitive skin there. Donghyuck curled in closer to keep from shivering as tingles shot like static down his spine, and as a smile played across his lips.

“You better be gone when I wake up in the morning. Can’t have my parents thinking you’re a bad influence.”

Mark laughed, low, the sound amplified for the way Donghyuck’s ear was pressed to his chest.

“Can’t have that. I’m sure I can find some way out without them noticing.”

Donghyuck’s hands pressed tighter to Mark’s back, seeking further comfort in the familiar feel and heat of his skin.

“Night, Mark,” he mumbled, drifting, listing.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

The morning came and, with it, the morning sun. Donghyuck squinted against the buttery white light that streamed in from the slatted window shades, casting the floor of his childhood bedroom in soft parallel lines that felt too harsh to his eyes.

He missed the intimate of the darkness and crimson neon lights. He missed it, not in the least because he’d woken up alone, Mark having kept to his word and made himself scarce.

Breakfast was tense without friends and free flowing wine to loosen everyone up. Donghyuck’s mother and father decided he ought to stay back while the rest of them went to Christmas mass. Even if he could get in the church, even if a demon somehow was able to sneak in, he’d attract stares and start rumors. His parents left that last part unsaid, but Donghyuck would be an idiot to not pick up on their meaning, as they gently told him he could catch up on some shows while they were out.

It was fine by Donghyuck. He’d never liked churches anyways. Too many people trying to outsing each other, their voices cacophonous and irritating. Lami was displeased though. As she ran a brush through her hair, she whinged at Donghyuck.

“This is so unfair. Next time, turn me into a demon too.”

“I can make that happen,” Donghyuck flashed a toothy grin at her. Unfortunately, his mother overheard. She let out a not-yelp, and hurried forward to grab the brush from Lami’s hand. She set it down with a clatter on a nearby counter and said,

“Alright, alright. Enough, you two. Time to go, or we’ll be late.”

As his family shuffled out and into their car, Donghyuck found himself unoccupied. Alone, for hours possibly. He contemplated what to do. He could go back to Hell, but that would mean finding a way back to the Hellmouth, and then he’d have to come back. He could practice his magic, work on his vanishing, he supposed.

Or, he thought, he could go for a walk.

Donghyuck knew his parents’ neighborhood like the back of his hand. He knew the neighbors’ houses, their lawns, whether or not there would be toys or barbecue equipment or flower pots in front. He knew the patches of nature locked in behind the lots, where no lawnmowers and no gardeners touched. He used to sneak beyond the fences as a kid so he could climb the trees. He never used to fall.

There was a park, too, more grass than playland. A path ran through it, thin and winding but well tred by the neighborhood kids and their parents. No one was out on Christmas morning, though. Donghyuck ambled along, his feet automatically carrying him to the park, his breath ghosting from his lips in little white clouds in the chilly morning air.

There had been a rather pathetic playplace that he’d spent a lot of his childhood playing in but, when he reached the park, Donghyuck found it had fallen into an even worse state. The wood structure was chipped, darkened, and the plastic slides were scuffed up from years of kids sneakers crossing their surface.

Donghyuck went to the swings. He sat down on one, curling his fingers around the metal rings of the swing’s chains. They were cold enough to make his fingers ache. It had probably dipped below freezing the night before, he thought. He wasn’t bothered so much by the cold anymore though. Donghyuck crossed his ankles and let his mind drift.

He’d had time to process everything, at long last. The spellbook, the curse, and the demon it had brought him. The Hellmouth, Hell itself, the deal he’d made to live forever with Mark. Donghyuck’s fingers twitched on the swing chains. His eyes felt overdry, as he gazed out on the playscape that had fallen into disrepair. He blinked once, twice, as his chest began to ache.

He was crazy. That’s what everyone said. He’d been crazy, from the start. Insane to think that casting spells was any way to spend one’s free time. But, he thought, he’d do it all over again. He’d fast forward through the aching moments if he could, skip the uncertainties that had haunted so much of the time, but he couldn’t find any part in him that held regret.

“You are, without a doubt, the most aggravating human I have ever had the displeasure of encountering,” came a bored voice to Donghyuck’s side. Donghyuck didn’t jump, but it was a near thing.

He turned, and saw that the swing by him was now occupied. A young boy in appearance, with a black bowlcut on his head, dressed in all white. Jisung stared at him with a blank expression, but Donghyuck sensed a lick of annoyance emanating from him as his eyes met Jisung’s emotionless gaze.

Donghyuck quirked an eyebrow. Jisung still wasn’t his favorite immortal being to spend time with, but he would always be grateful for the role he played in helping Donghyuck reach Hell.

“Then why do you keep searching me out?” he asked.

Jisung was silent for a moment, his expression impenetrable. White clouds escaped from his lips, the same as Donghyuck’s. There wasn’t a single sound in the park.

“Why are you here?” Donghyuck asked again. He was curious as to why Jisung had come to earth, “I know you didn’t just come here to swing.”

“No. When will you realize that I am not a human child...” Jisung replied, immediately. His expression remained ever the same, but Donghyuck actually heard a hint of aggravation in his tone this time, before he cut himself off.

“Donghyuck. I came because I… would like to hear your perspective on the events that happened since we last met.”

Donghyuck cocked his head, realization dawning, and a feeling of smugness with it.

“You came to check up on me,” he translated.

The sound of shifting wood chips, as Jisung turned away, and stretched his feet out. Donghyuck looked at him a beat longer, wondering if he should force to Jisung admit it. It would be funny but, after a moment, he conceded that it wasn’t quite fair.

He turned away from Jisung, his smug smile softening.

“Still ridiculously in love. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel… normal around him. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel normal again,” Donghyuck kicked a wood chip out. He didn’t like baring himself out like this but, somehow, with Jisung, it felt alright, “It seems like, since I changed, I’ve just… wanted, all the time.”

“Demons are weak-willed,” Jisung said, nonplussed, as though commenting on the weather, “Your desires overwhelm you. It might take you awhile yet to adjust.”

Donghyuck shot him a look, before taking in the serene tilt of his brows and realizing that that might have been an absurd attempt to reassure him, to tell him he was at the very least like the other demons. Normal, for an abnormal class. He didn’t want to ponder how long awhile would be, though.   

“...Thanks,” Donghyuck was beyond being flustered by the strangeness of angels. He smiled instead, “When you helped me get to Hell, Did you ever expect me to come back as a demon?”

Jisung’s head turned. His eyes bored into Donghyuck’s, and Donghyuck felt filled with the sense of eerie calm he had first felt upon meeting Jisung.

“I did not help you. I did nothing more than speak with you,” Jisung stated, his voice harder. His eyes glinted, and his features shifted, softening near imperceptibly, “I am surprised the King of Hell allowed you to join his ranks, but I am not surprised you tried.”

“I think he pitied me, or something. I’m glad, though,” Donghyuck addressed the first part of what Jisung said. He shook his head, his smile returning, wry, “And do you think that little of me, that I’d just drop everything to become a demon like that? Well… I guess you were spot on.”

Jisung blinked.

“That is not what I meant to say. I would have been disappointed in you had you not gone to lengths that you did for your demon.”

Donghyuck attempted to digest the implications of that, that Jisung was that invested, that an angel like Jisung approved of him selling his soul and trading away his humanity.

Jisung listed back from Donghyuck, drawing away and directing his gaze higher, above the treeline where all the trees were naked, barren, and dark limbed against the wintry white sky.

“I suppose I should thank you, Donghyuck, for livening up the realms the way you did,” a small ghost of a smile that felt like nothing less than a miracle played across Jisung’s lips, “I am not sure when another couple demons like you and your love will come along again.”

Donghyuck was speechless, staring at the smile on Jisung’s face.

“You’re welcome?” he said, at last.

Jisung nodded, the small ghost of his smile remaining. It was silent again between them. The metal links of the swingset chains from the unoccupied swings by them quietly creaked and groaned as they were pushed by the light breeze gusting through the park.

Donghyuck cleared his throat.

“So… how does this work?” Jisung’s eyes drifted over, and Donghyuck continued, “I mean. An angel and a demon being friends. Has that happened before?”

Donghyuck thought he was hearing things when he heard a bubbling, light laugh escape from Jisung. For a moment, it seemed the sky lightened, the white fluffy clouds that veiled the sun’s brightness drawn back like gauzy cotton curtains. Then Jisung lowered his head back level with Donghyuck and the clouds drifted back over the sun.

“No,” Jisung’s voice remained light, “And with good reason. Goodbye, demon. See you in a century.”

Before Donghyuck could so much as ask Jisung if he’d really just laughed, Jisung stood from the swing and started walking from Donghyuck. He didn’t look back when Donghyuck called out a goodbye, and one last thank you, though he knew the thanks might be unwelcome. The sky had become darker still, when Donghyuck glanced up at it. He looked back down, and Jisung had vanished on the horizon, disappeared without so much as a single word of an incantation uttered.

Donghyuck spent the day with his family, all of them trying to pretend that all was normal, that all was the same.

He hugged his mother good bye and promised his father he’d be back for a visit the next weekend. He ruffled his sister’s hair just because he knew it would make her squeal and yell at him. That felt the most normal of all.

Donghyuck felt his heart rise up to his throat, as he walked from his family’s home, a last minute present for Mark held in his hands. He slowed, and glanced over his shoulder. It was dusk out already, and the Christmas lights looked almost all red if he squinted and wished. Donghyuck let out a short sigh, rolled his eyes at himself.

Brimming with unbidden emotion, and the upswell of desire that still wracked him when he thought too deeply of Mark, of Hell, Donghyuck stepped into the shadows of one of the groves between the suburban houses.

He’d only succeeded in using the incantation a couple times in the practice room, and never outside of it. But he closed his eyes, and imagined what Mark had told him to imagine. He focused on feeling the shadows, finding them, then bending them, warping them, calling them to his form. At once, he felt blanketed. It was cold. That was when he knew he had a fighting chance of it working. The chill of the shadows covered him wholly, and he uttered the incantation, thinking of home.

He opened his eyes, and was met with the sight of Mark’s apartment. It was lit warmly, the flickering candle flames’ glow casting every surface in amber light. Donghyuck first looked towards the couch, expecting to see Mark sitting there with his nose in a book. When he found it empty, he frowned, and dropped the present onto it.

Turning, he saw Mark standing by the stovetop. A pot on it let out tendrils of steam, but Mark didn’t seem to notice or mind. He was staring at Donghyuck with the expression that counted among Donghyuck’s favorites when it came to him – bewildered, shocked, and more than a little impressed.

“So,” Mark said, “You figured it out?”

“‘Course I did. All by myself too.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a smile as he slipped out of his leather jacket. He hung it over the side of a barstool in the kitchen before striding over to the stove.

“Looks like you’ve been busy while I’ve been out.”

Donghyuck crept up behind Mark. He slipped his arms under Mark’s, sliding his hands over Mark’s abdomen in an embrace. He rested his chin on Mark’s shoulder as he surveyed what Mark was up to.

Donghyuck got a proper look at the tangle of noodles within the pot of boiling water. How Mark had managed to tangle noodles, he couldn’t have guessed.

“Are you… cooking?”

“I’m trying to,” Mark sighed. He prodded at the noodle tangle, “I thought we could do a special dinner.”

Donghyuck paused, to not say something rashly. He took in the stovetop, the pot with the noodles, a pan with sauce that was bubbling up and shooting globs of sauce all over. It was just noodles and sauce, not even really a full meal. But it still made his heart surge with warmth and fondness and a little bit of amusement.

His eyes flicked to Mark’s face. His expression had shifted from the excitement it had held when Donghyuck first appeared. He looked focused, determined, his brows furrowed and low.

Without thinking too deeply on it, Donghyuck moved in and pressed a kiss to the side of Mark’s cheek, the closest he could get to Mark’s lips in his position. Mark froze, poised in the midst of stirring. Donghyuck’s lip corner climbed high.

As the popping of bubbles and scent of cooking filled his senses, a warm feeling uncurled within him. His eyes flitted over Mark’s features, capturing them for the millionth time, before falling down. The bubbling water was rising dangerously high.

“It’s about to boil over,” he warned, amused. It took a beat, then –

“Shit,” Mark hissed.

Donghyuck laughed and pulled away, as Mark scrambled to lower the heat and stir the noodles. He didn’t want to be too much of a distraction. He busied himself with making drinks, following one of the two basic recipes he’d learned so far from their frequent visits to the Maw, as Mark finished up the food.

They sipped lightly and ate on the living room floor, their feet bare and their legs tangled up in each other. Mark made a picture, red pasta sauce staining the corners of his mouth, his fangs glinting bright as the candlelights flickered lowly. Donghyuck’s belly was full of halfway decent food made bearable because it was made by Mark, who’d never attempted such a thing for him before.

Drinking probably wasn’t the brightest idea he’d had. It made that self control issue Jisung had mentioned even more difficult. An hour eclipsed, more alcohol imbibed, and the dirty dishes were left in the kitchen for the next morning to deal with.

“So,” Donghyuck began, his words starting to smooth over, “did ya get me a present?”

He had Mark beneath him, not so much pinned as blanketed. Donghyuck was laying half on him, half off, loose limbed, the only movement between the two of them Donghyuck’s hand, tracing the line of Mark’s collarbone.

He desired, but he tried to sate himself with just the contact, just the glancing touch of the tip of his finger against Mark’s burning skin. He desired, but he also just wanted to talk, to hear Mark’s voice, and be heard.

“It’s okay if you didn’t,” he assured, truthful, “I only got you something small, and I know you don’t really… celebrate Christmas here.”

Mark made a soft sound. He looked concerned, his eyes going wide where before they were heavy lidded.

“You didn’t,” Donghyuck surmised.

“I did!” Mark said, insistent. Quieter, more sheepish, “I just… forgot to wrap it…”

Donghyuck lifted his head. Mark’s gaze tracked him as he rose.

“You got me something?” he asked, his voice rising.

He’d bought his present last minute, literally on impulse while he’d been waiting for his family to get back from the church. He’d wandered over to a strip mall on his walk, sparing a thought for the few other souls out and about on Christmas morning. After picking through a thrift shop’s book selection, he’d gone to a department store.

He’d found a fluffy cream colored sweater that felt just as soft as Mark’s worn t-shirts, but had to be much warmer. He’d thought of the time when Johnny had let slip that Mark had a tendency to forget the cold and end up bright red and shivering without realizing it, and used the last of his cash to purchase the sweater.

A bonus, he thought, as he brought the sweater in its cartoon reindeer wrapping out and bounded back over to the bedroom, would be the unforgettable image of his demon in the sweater. Mark was rifling through his sock drawer when Donghyuck drew into the room.

He glanced up, small smile ticking up the corners of his lips.

“Look away for a sec,” he asked, and Donghyuck dutifully dropped his present on the bedcovers and brought his hand up to cover his eyes.

He fell back onto the bed and sat in wait. He felt more than heard Mark draw near. He imagined he could feel the heat radiating from Mark, his body so attuned to him, searching out his warmth. He wanted to list forward, to take his hand from his eyes and pull Mark flush to him. Donghyuck settled for reaching out with his free hand, searching until his fingers made purchase at the hem of Mark’s shirt. He was so close, the side of his thighs brushing against the insides of Donghyuck’s knees.

He heard Mark’s breath catch. It wasn’t the time for it, not at all, but the desire to capture his lips with Donghyuck’s own swelled up. Donghyuck exhaled, low.

“I’m going to put it on you, if that’s okay.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Put on what?” Donghyuck asked. Mark didn’t say anything.

“What did you get me? Is it… adult themed?”

Mark made a soft sound, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t want to know either.”

“Don’t act so innocent,” Donghyuck grinned up at Mark, sure that, though his eyes were covered, his smile hadn’t lost his effect, “I know you too well for that to work.”

Donghyuck stilled, as he felt something cool and delicate press against the back of his neck. It was some sort of chain, so fine that Donghyuck could scarcely feel it slip over his skin as Mark fiddled with it. After a beat, Mark adjusted the chain, sliding it around Donghyuck’s neck. The back of his hand and his thumb brushed against Donghyuck’s skin. Donghyuck suppressed a shiver as Mark released the chain, dragging his thumb across the surface of Donghyuck’s neck before drawing his hand back.

Donghyuck lowered his hand from his eyes. He looked at Mark’s face for a brief moment – his expression was tentative, unsure – then looked down.

“A necklace?”

With his finger, he lifted a section of the slender chain, its color pale gold, the width of its loops as fine as strands of hair. Donghyuck had never been a big jewelry person. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d worn anything like this necklace, at least.

There was a small pendant hanging from it, made of the same gold as the rest of the necklace. Donghyuck picked it up between his thumb and forefinger and squinted at it to make out its shape. It was a sun, hollowed out, with varying lengths of golden rays emanating from it, glinting in the crimson lighting as though it was actually aflame.

Donghyuck didn’t know much about jewelry, but he knew this was nice, as far as necklaces went. Far nicer than Mark should have gotten for him, for a last minute gift. He swallowed, then looked up from the sun pendant.

“You look so surprised,” Mark laughed. He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, “It’s not too much, is it?”

Donghyuck dropped the necklace. He shook his head, quickly. He could still feel the gold chain around his neck. It wasn’t too much, he supposed. He exhaled, light, trying not too read too deeply into it. It was just that Mark always thought of the future. He always thought of getting things that would last, things that would stand the test of time along with them.

“I was thinking... it could be a bit of a good luck charm? And a reminder.”

“With my luck, that’s probably a good idea,” Donghyuck joked, lightly. He smiled at Mark.

“What’s it supposed to remind me of?” he asked, knowing full well that he would force Mark into saying something that would leave him red in the face with the effort of putting it into words.

Mark sucked his bottom lip in. He lowered his hand. When it fell, his fingertips brushed up against Donghyuck’s hand where it was still twisted in the hem of his shirt.

“Your family, I guess. Your friends. Everything you had up there,” Mark’s voice was so serious, despite Donghyuck’s attempts to lighten the mood, “Even when you’re here, you can have something bright…”

Donghyuck’s smile softened, recalling doodles traded when they were just sending letters back and forth, and still so uncertain of their future.

“I see,” he said, noting that the rosy light seemed to shine more strongly still on Mark’s cheeks, “That’s sweet of you.”

Mark’s eyes flicked above Donghyuck’s gaze, focusing at some point above his head. Donghyuck suppressed a laugh as Mark cleared his throat and went,

“Really, it was nothing,” he hesitated. He glanced down, then back up, “Glad you like it though.”

Donghyuck shook his head, fond. Giving in at last to his urge to get closer, he stood, and shifted his hand from the hem of Mark’s shirt to the fabric in the center of his chest. Donghyuck let his eyes fall nearly closed as he drew Mark to him, only pausing just before their lips might meet, just when he started to feel Mark’s heat against his skin.

Mark inhaled, sharp, and Donghyuck chased him, falling in, slotting their lips together. He just felt the light touch of Mark’s hands, finding their place on his waist, when he fell back onto the bed. He paused, taking a moment to breathe as Mark got the clue to follow his lead.

The bed creaked as Mark lifted his leg, resting his knee to the side of Donghyuck’s thigh.

“Wait. My present,” he breathed, only after he’d already leaned in, only after his lips were already tantalizingly close. Donghyuck had to close his eyes to cut himself off from the view.

“Right.”

He grappled behind him for the package, grabbing it. He held it up as a buffer between he and Mark as he opened his eyes.

“Get ready to have your custom gold necklace put to shame,” Donghyuck exhaled, just holding back from going hurry-hurry-hurry.

“Really?” Mark asked, his eyes dancing, shining. He grabbed the package from Donghyuck. He’d drawn back, but he still had his inner knee pressed to the outside of Donghyuck’s thigh. It was distracting.

“Only one way to find out,” Donghyuck’s tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Mark laughed, low, as picked apart the wrapping paper. He seemed to be taking care not to rip it, going slow and using careful, small movements. For Donghyuck, it was torturous watching his hands work.

“...It’s fluffy,” Mark said, after a moment. The intact wrapping paper had fallen to the floor, and Mark was left with the folded sweater in his hands. He looked at it with consternation.

“It really is.”

Mark glanced up at Donghyuck, one brow lifted, then back down. He unfolded it, and Donghyuck was able to surface from his singleminded daze enough to appreciate the way Mark’s face morphed when he realized what Donghyuck had gotten him.

“Oh no.”

“It’s to keep you warm when you’re wandering around outside!”

“The souls are going to laugh at me,” Mark whined.

“So?” Donghyuck had to lift his hand to his mouth to keep from laughing too, “They’re souls. Who cares what they think?”

“Johnny’s going to laugh at me,” Mark moaned, “...Jaehyun won’t let me live this down. Yuta – ”

“Even if they do laugh, it’s just going to be ‘cause you look cute in it,” Donghyuck leaned back, surveying Mark, satisfied with the reaction to his present. Mark lowered the sweater to shoot Donghyuck a look. His brows were drawn together, one fang jutted out over his lip. He looked disbelieving still.

Donghyuck pushed further.

“ I think you’ll look good in it. Really good.”

“Cute isn’t the same as good,” Mark groused, but his gaze turned considering as he looked back down at the sweater, then back up, “Should I try it on?”

“Hm,” Donghyuck hummed, as if considering it too, “Kiss me first?”

He probably wasn’t as subtle as he’d tried to be, given the glint in Mark’s eye as he agreed, and the upturn of his lips as he leaned in close. Sure enough, the one kiss turned into two, turned into three, four. The sweater lay forgotten on the bedcovers, and Mark’s hesitation was long lost. Donghyuck’s necklace felt like a cooling comfort against his skin, as Mark pressed him down into the bed, as Mark licked into his mouth.

The whispered ‘love you’s returned, as they lost their minds and barriers, as their unfiltered thoughts escaped from their lips as easily as gasps and hitched exhalations. Donghyuck’s fire burned hot and undeniable, and Mark’s lips stoked it higher, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

☾

Mark was helping Donghyuck move out from his dorm and, with classes starting up again in a few days, Jeno was around to lend a hand too.

They’d taken a bunch of boxes from Donghyuck’s parents’ home and were packing up all of his clothes and school supplies to bring back to Hell. Jeno kept laughing at Donghyuck’s indecision over whether to pack his whole wardrobe or not. His fashion sense had changed a little. He wasn’t about to wear striped polos around Hell. He’d keep the neon green sweatpants though, and the red ones, too on second thought. He needed them for lounging about. A lot of being a demon, it turned out, was lounging about.

Mark walked from the shadows and Jeno’s laughter hardly dipped. After an afternoon full of Mark and Donghyuck both popping in and out, literally, the shock factor finally seemed to be wearing off.

Mark grinned, sheepish, drawing out a pencil box that Donghyuck knew contained more costume makeup than actual school supplies.

“I have no idea where I should put this, sorry – is this more of a bathroom or a bedroom thing?”

Donghyuck wrinkled his nose after he’d paused to think.

“Ugh, neither,” he decided, “Just throw it out.”

Then, “ – wait. Let me look through it first,” he blurted out, as Mark moved, presumably to do just that.

Donghyuck’s parents were, of course, less than thrilled about Donghyuck’s decision to drop out of school. It had made things even more frigid between them, but Donghyuck still held out hope that they’d come to see eventually that being a demon wasn’t exactly compatible with becoming a doctor.

He’d even pointed out to them that he had a secure job for the future, working under a reliable employer (he didn’t name names, or bring up the word ‘satan’ at all, though, just to ease them into it). He’d mentioned that he had time to go back to school, if wanted. He could take a hundred gap years, if he wanted. Reflecting upon it, he probably shouldn’t have gone so far as to tell them that.

Donghyuck tried in vain to rub the purple marker off from the wood of his dorm desk, the last trace he’d lived there at all.

“You need to use soap for that,” Jeno sighed, exasperated. He poked through his closet for a few seconds before drawing out a spray bottle and a rag.

Mark was gone, back in Hell, unpacking. The dorm felt quieter with him gone, not quite uncomfortable, but not settled either. The air felt static almost, as Donghyuck sprayed the cleaner on the desk, and started to clean off the traces of what once was a purple pentagram.

“I’m going to miss you, Hyuck,” Jeno said, his voice piercing the weighted silence, “We all are.”

And Donghyuck got that, he did. He got the feeling Jeno must have had then, with Donghyuck’s things all packed up and carted off to Hell. It must have looked as though there was nothing tying him to their world anymore.

He turned around, and leaned back against the desk. He surveyed Jeno. He looked discomfited, as though he’d had that held in for awhile. Donghyuck wondered if the other guys had put him up to saying it, if they’d shared worried whispers behind his back. He tried not to be annoyed. They were just concerned they were losing their friend, after all. It was understandable.

Donghyuck smiled.

“You need to stop acting like I’m leaving for good. I might not be living in the dorms anymore, but I’ll see you guys almost as often as I used to,” Donghyuck cocked his head, “I wouldn’t miss Friday night friend dates for the world.”

“Promise?” Jeno asked, a ghost of a wry smile twisting up his lips, “You have to promise that Earth gets half custody of Donghyuck Lee, okay?”

Donghyuck set the spray bottle and the rag down, brushed his hands off on his jeans, and offered a pinkie out to Jeno.

“Promise.”

Hours later found he and Mark in The Maw, a not infrequent occurrence when the day hours dwindled. Odder was their company – Jaehyun and Jungwoo were the demons Donghyuck saw most frequently aside from Taeyong, Doyoung, and Johnny, as they always seemed to find their way to The Maw. But that day, two demons Donghyuck still wasn’t quite sure about showed up, interrupting their game of pool.

“Taeil,” Donghyuck glanced up from where he was bent over, about to make his move. He caught eyes with the demon, got a nod back, then let his gaze fall back down before he might accidentally make eye contact with Taeil’s companion. He shot the pool stick forward, “Yuta.”

....and ended up missing the ball he’d been trying to target entirely. Scowling, he straightened.

“You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo,” Yuta said, gruff.

Donghyuck looked at him then, facing him head on.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What am I supposed to call you?” Yuta cocked his head. His fangs flashed bright under The Maw’s neon lights, “You’re – what? Fourteen years old? You’re a fetus.”

Donghyuck glanced to Mark. He looked to be no help, in the middle of pointing out something about his drink (or perhaps the glass the drink was in) to Taeil. Taeil looked amused or, at least, indulgent. Mark being distracted might be to his benefit, though, Donghyuck realized. He turned, resting his hip against the pool table.

“I’m eighteen,” Donghyuck switched his scowl up, twisting it to a saccharine smile, “I’ll be nineteen soon.”

Yuta looked discomfited. He paused, working his jaw. His dark hair swept low into his eyes, nearly brushing his cheekbones. He swept it back as he surveyed Donghyuck.

“Well. Okay then. Still young as shit.”

Donghyuck felt a prickling at the back of his neck, a sensation like a match striking. Low heat, spreading under his skin. Mark was watching him, then. He didn’t stop though, not when he’d just started, and barrelled ahead.

“Show me how it’s done then, old man.”

Mark’s sigh was soft, probably perceptible only to Donghyuck. Yuta, at least, seemed not to note it. A tendon jumped in his jaw, and then, a breathless pause later, miracle of miracles, his features shifted. They relaxed. A gleaming, wide smile spread across his face. His fangs were long, sharpened to glinting points, the sharpest Donghyuck had seen. He tossed his head back and laughed once, light.

“You,” Yuta pointed at him, “You’re annoying.”

Donghyuck felt Mark behind him. He must have walked up, his body emanating a familiar heat, his scent comforting, easy to pick out.

Before Mark could say something lame and noble in the interest of defending Donghyuck from being called annoying, Donghyuck leaned forward towards Yuta.

“Maybe. So, you gonna show me, or what?”

Mark leaned forward as Yuta lifted Donghyuck’s stick from him and settled into place. Mark’s lips must have been near Donghyuck’s ear because, when his words came, they were murmured and soft.

“I don’t know what he’s playing at. I swear I’ve never seen him play this before.”

Yuta, apparently, didn’t know what he was doing either. The whole table got a laugh, even Taeil, as he failed to even make a connection with a single ball. He scrambled to cover for himself but, tension broken, Donghyuck made another offer to soothe it over, going for another round of drinks and asking Taeil and Yuta for their orders.

He was still trying to do that ‘thinking before acting’ thing, and his thoughts were saying that it was smart to play nice with the demons, with all the demons. After all, he thought, the word occurring to him from out of nowhere, sudden and unforgettable from the moment he’d thought it. They were kind of like family now.

He glanced back at the table, as the soul working the bar prepared their drinks. Taeil and Mark were laughing at something Yuta was doing with the pool stick and, as he looked, Mark glanced his way. His smile turned softer, and he lifted his hand in a slight wave. Donghyuck smiled back, thinking that this family wasn’t far from a good one, for how awful it should have been.

☾

Donghyuck kept to his promise to Jeno, as best he could. He took Mark with him when he went up above, whenever possible. Demons didn’t have a lot to do if they weren’t doing evil, it seemed. So, with their free time, Donghyuck and Mark traveled. For the first time in his life, Donghyuck left the sun baked heat of Arizona.

He and Mark ate at top rated restaurants in Japan, covering their ears with beanies and covering their mouths with their hands as they ate to hide their fangs. They walked together along the Han River in Seoul, Donghyuck having unsuccessfully convinced Mark to go canoeing with him.

They caught movies in Los Angeles. Generally, they went with Mark’s choice, generally sappy romance, but Donghyuck had tricked him into seeing a few of the more mainstream movies. He’d tried and failed to explain the Marvel Cinematic Universe, to which Mark had stemmed his explanation with “I’m nearly a century old. I’m never going to understand this shit”.

They visited a museum in St. Petersburg and strutted through the streets, Donghyuck marveling at the feeling of the biting cold, the snow drifts that snuck into his boots and melted, soaking his socks.

At long last, after years of going nearly everywhere but, they went to Canada. It took some convincing, and more than a month of deliberation. Mark looked queasy, green in the face as he’d told Donghyuck that he was ready, that he wanted to go. But they went.

Donghyuck stayed quiet, solemn, throughout the time they spent there. So much had changed, Mark said. Vancouver was unrecognizable. Except, of course, for the ocean. The seaside had only altered some, in the past eighty-odd years. Donghyuck’s heart clenched at the smile on Mark’s face, as he recounted his typical day working on the docks.

He asked Mark once, as they walked through the streets that Mark used to know, if he ever thought about the life he would have had, had he not been tricked into selling his soul when he was a child. Mark had paused. He’d turned to look at Donghyuck, and Donghyuck couldn’t have looked away. He found himself spellbound by the intensity in Mark’s eyes.

“I used to,” Mark had said, in reply.

What changed, Donghyuck wanted to ask, but also couldn’t have asked. It was so rare to see Mark so serious. He was hardly seen without a smile anymore.

Just as he was thinking that though, Mark’s face had split into a smile.

“I would have been dead by now, if that was the case,” his smile had softened, “I wouldn’t have met you.”

Donghyuck had smiled back, unable to help himself in the face of Mark’s sentimentality. He’d reached out for Mark and Mark had drawn close without protest. The sun was setting overhead, the sky was a deep indigo streaked with a saturated crimson that made Donghyuck feel at home, and Mark’s eyes were glinting bright, shining.

“Do you ever think about how much had to go wrong just for us to meet?” he’d asked, and Mark had laughed. Once he’d leveled his gaze back down, he’d looked at Donghyuck, thoughtful.

“All that bad luck had to lead to something good eventually.”

Even after all that time, Donghyuck was still adjusting to Mark just saying things like that, out of nowhere. He’d shaken his head and pressed his lips together. He ignored the heat that flared up, not in his veins, but in his cheeks. He hoped that the dusk was dark enough for Mark to miss his blushed cheeks.

“Come on,” Donghyuck had said, reaching out and capturing Mark’s hand. As he interlaced their hands, his fingers brushed up against the cool metal band on Mark’s ring finger. A small smile that he was unable to suppress rose to his lips, and he tightened his grasp on Mark’s hand for a moment, “Let’s get going. You’ve got a whole city to show me.”