Chapter Text
i.
Donghyuck Lee had long since grown used to the late night visits a certain dark haired boy seemed inclined to consistently pay. He’d sneak the elder in, nestle himself into the bed, and await the lanky arms that would wrap around his waist and the hot breath that would swirl over the nape of his neck, goosebumps rising over the flesh.
It was a routine Donghyuck had found himself grow accustomed to, the normalcy of their intimacy causing discomfort to lace him with the emotions that swirled throughout his gut in the company of the elder on such nights. In other rare times as the elder would remain away, never a text to heed warning of his absence, Donghyuck found confusion and anxiety would stir his stomach.
Occasionally, Mark would stumble up the stairs behind the shorter only to collapse onto his floor, his breath reeking with the stench of alcohol and his actions gangly, words slurred. Donghyuck found it in himself not to mind – to ignore the anguish that that tore his worries and the emotions that stirred within his chest. He’d allow the other to rest on the rough carpet and wake him the following morning with Advil and a glass of water, rushing him down the stairs in a hush with the dark of dawn blooming over the house as the muffle of sleep began to drift away with the rousing of his family.
Thus, when a rapping of pebbles startled over the thick glass of his window, Donghyuck rose calmly from the comforter that wrapped in a nest around him. It was uncommon for the elder to arrive without a phone call or text, a courtesy to the boy who’d on occasion drift off with the grasps of sleep and remain unable to allow the other in, though in Donghyuck’s mind it was blatantly clear it would be no one else.
Donghyuck stood, his back popping with the raising of his limbs over his head, and flicked on the lamp that lay over the stool beside his bedframe. His room became illuminated drastically more, the small cord of string lights having done little to chase away the shadows of late night. The hazel haired boy brushed the tips of his fingers across the bangs that hung into his view, flicking them across his forehead.
Donghyuck pressed his fingers between the slots of his blinds, drawn down against the view of those passing by with the naked trees of winter. He quirked his brow at the small form that cowered in the wintry cold, the boy lightened solely by the distant lamp that lay adjacent to the small strip of sidewalk leading to his porch.
He yawned and grappled across the mussed sheets of his bed for his phone, clearing the browser he’d been on and opening his messages. They were blank and ordinary. Cracking his door open with a wince toward the groan of its hinges and stumbling through the dark hallway, the boy typed rapidly over his keyboard. The stairs whined with the weight of Donghyuck’s footsteps, calling desperately into the quiet of drowse, and Donghyuck furrowed his brow at the lack of response that followed his inquiry.
Mark wasn’t answering.
Donghyuck settled into the foyer and peered into the glowing silver of the snowy night, his stomach tightening with nerves. A small head of black hair greeted him. Donghyuck swung the door open in confusion and stepped into the icy chill.
The younger studied the boy before him, curling his arm around the other against the frigid air. He was slumped inward, his expression drowsy and worn. A thin t-shirt billowed in the winter gale, whipping against his arms, notably reddened even in the dark of night. Donghyuck glanced over the wet hair, matted to the sides of his face and spewed over his pale cheekbones, and met the glazed stare of the other.
“Renjun?” the boy on the porch tremored, his arms limp at his sides and eyelids drooping. Donghyuck glanced down the street, scanning as if expecting to see a stumbling Mark that he’d whisk away as per routine. He found none and deflated – in relief or sorrow, he was unsure. “I half expected someone else,” he muttered, flicking his attention back to Renjun.
The elder glanced away with the pursuit of questions that sprung from Donghyuck’s lips, nerves ebbing at him with the thought of potential overlap – of Mark’s expected arrival bringing further confusion to Renjun’s unexpected.
Donghyuck didn’t feel up to an explanation that he himself was unsure of.
The elder shifted and spoke to the puzzled Donghyuck, his hands fiddling and descending into his pockets at the younger’s probing. His voice wavered, though he didn’t seem to notice – or care. His body continued to tremble and Donghyuck scanned the scuff of an injured knee and the ripped sweatpants that littered his frail form. His face shined in the moonlight that reflected over snow, shimmering with wet that Donghyuck wasn’t sure was formulated by slush or sweat.
He appeared hopeless and defeated; his expression reserved and downturned. Donghyuck felt his chest tighten with the scene before him and he sighed gently, bending his neck to let it snap and relax the tension that seized him. He couldn’t leave the boy to the cold – not when so helpless and frail as Renjun appeared before him. He was his friend.
And he’d done so in the past for a similar black haired boy.
Maybe the universe was playing on Donghyuck’s kindness.
Donghyuck studied the road once more, his hand twitching and itching to grasp his phone – to send a warning against Mark’s fairly likely arrival. He tilted his head with a slight nod to himself before staring to the boy who was unfamiliar to Donghyuck’s routine.
“Take your shoes-,” Donghyuck started, aware of the other’s incapability of knowing the younger’s need for cleanliness when sneaking him in. His mother wasn’t one to turn someone in need away, but he was aware that he had to keep his tendency to hustle in another boy – what with the frequency of visits – a secret. He halted his words as his gaze flickered over the small feet that lay nestled in the clumping snow of his porch staircase, soiling it rouge. His brows crumpled together, his nose twitching into a snarl of confusion. He stepped forward, a hand outstretched as if to touch the small boy’s injuries – to curb away the pain with the brush of his fingertips. Donghyuck stepped back and cast his eyes upward in worry, his expression marred as he opened the door wide.
Donghyuck would not let Renjun stand in pain.
His mind danced between thoughts, wonderment at the elder’s carelessness clutching him as he began to step forward. Renjun’s legs looked to drag slightly with the effort, fatigue weighing him from acting hurriedly, and Donghyuck shook his head softly in confusion.
“-wait here while I get a towel for your feet. So you don’t, y’know, stain the carpet with blood,” Donghyuck stepped away from Renjun’s measly grin, it appeared almost a grimace, and padded into his kitchen, toward the laundry room just to its left. He slipped his palm into the small pocket of his plaid pajama pants, the flannel stiflingly warm with Donghyuck’s harried state. The brown haired boy did not grapple with injuries – or concern, for that matter – well. He huffed a breath as he sweat lightly and tapped over the screen of his phone before tipping his head to glance at the white ceiling above him.
The steaming of the rag filtered to the underside of Donghyuck’s chin as he ventured back to the doorway, the wet that dripped wrung out into the bowl of the kitchen sink. His face was etched with worry as he approached the dazed and distraught elder, handing the rough towel to him and leaning backward slightly, gazing down as he crouched to scrape it against the underside of his feet.
“Renjun, I’m not going to ask, okay?” the other boy made a noise in affirmation, hissing with the sting of warmth that flooded feeling back into his numbed feet.
Donghyuck was going to ask.
With the hurt that flitted over the boy’s face, his fingers struggling clumsily over his grip on the rag, Donghyuck’s agitation grew. He seemed to be notably unwell; the shaking growing worse in the warmth of the younger’s home and his hands blistered pink.
The two were close, they spoke often and enjoyed each other’s company alongside their mutual friends; however, they’d never exclusively confided in or turned to the other in pursuit of help. They were friends, but they weren’t confidantes.
Renjun had Jaemin for that – and Donghyuck, Mark.
At least that’s what he had supposed.
Donghyuck wondered if his initial hesitation to entrust Mark with everything – if the emotions that overwhelmed him with the other’s company, a secret kept exclusively to himself – were reflected in Renjun. The elder had stated that he couldn’t go to Jaemin.
The younger shook his head roughly as if to clear it, the waves of his hair flipping into his vision and catching over his eyelashes. As Renjun straightened before him, his hands shaking slightly, Donghyuck stepped backward toward the incline of steps and padded quietly upward, the soft carpet enveloping his socked feet. He slid into the thin crack of his doorway, pushing it slightly further ajar and splintering the quiet of the house with its screech.
Donghyuck was used to sleeping in the company of others; he did it almost weekly – at the most daily. But in that moment, his consciousness snagged by the confusion of Renjun’s state and the unease with which he spoke of his best friend, Donghyuck found he couldn’t shut his eyes from where they remained trained on the dimmed twinkle lights strung beside him. The air was heavy, the cover of dark doing little to mask the tension that pushed a hefty weight over the boy.
Donghyuck studied the small bulb, his mind frayed with the thoughts that afflicted over it. The soft sounds of sleep drifted from the floor below him, the rasps of Renjun’s deep breaths rupturing through the silence. The blanket of night was cool, the heating having kicked off briefly with the warmth of sleep filtrating over the house. The room was basked in a glow of pale indigo, silvery moonlight and ice dripping over the powder blue walls in the shadows.
Donghyuck shifted his gaze and pulled himself upward. He hunched over his crossed ankles, resting his elbows atop the bent knees. His comforter was warm but the bare of his arms were cold to touch with the winter temperature. The boy shoved his face into his palms, a yawn pulling from him and tremoring his body against the soft cushion of his mattress. He lugged himself from his drowsy stupor and tilted his head backward to the dark of his ceiling.
A small water stain darkened the drywall above him in a puddle. Donghyuck studied the spot with a sigh, the familiarity of its discoloration settling the worry that spilled over him for the small boy that lay curled over the floor.
Donghyuck picked his feet up and pushed them from where they wound around each other over the bed, setting them over the cool carpet. A pool of white rested in the vague outline of his window across the carpet, the full moon spilling in droplets of light. Donghyuck brushed his feet over the patch, sliding past the shaking boy to lean over his desk toward the window.
The night sky was clear and open, the moon at a low angle to blind directly into the small room with the dim glow of stars painting across the galaxy in pinpricks of white. The dull coloring of insipid blue was murky with the approaching daylight, spreading low over the horizon in a thin strip of light. It wasn’t often that Donghyuck could raise himself early enough to see the blooming of colors over the skyline.
Donghyuck preferred to rise with the warmth that blossomed over his chest in the pooling of sunlight that spewed through his window and across his bed.
The hesitant world outside was still, resembling a photograph with the frigid cold of winter. The only movement that fluttered before Donghyuck was the wind that blustered over the powdered mounds of snow and blew the top of the dusting across the ground in clouds of soft ivory. The slope of rooftop lay barren and flattened in the snow, the usual ridges of shingles rounded out and smoothed to soft slants of cotton.
Donghyuck wondered over when the weather would begin to warm again. The holidays had just begun, the New Year approaching slowly in the dense winter, and the boy couldn’t help but feel tired of the plummeting temperatures. He yearned for the green of trees and the carpet of grass to glitter with afternoon sun once more – to bask in the golden heat that licked his skin to a bronzed tone as he rested his chin over his hands with the ease of a cat.
It was in the midst of a scalding summer, the sky clear of clouds and the beam of yellow blinding the backs of Donghyuck’s clenched eyelids to red, when the boy had first encountered the eldest of his friends. He’d been sprawled across the mass of grass, his limbs flailed into a starfish and his face turned from the bright blue expanse of sky. He’d shut his eyes, the aromatic air stifling with humidity and hints of pollen tickling his throat, and allowed the enchantment of the growing heat to dull his thoughts to a whisper beneath the steady buzz of the blushed summer. The brilliant rays of light sunk into a vivid caress against his skin, coloring him red with sweat in the comforting inferno of sun.
The softness of spring had ebbed away to a world of rugged edges and kindling. The perfume of flowers curled gently over the figure, coating the world in an elastic stroke of euphoria. The air conditioned walls of home had smothered the beauty of sizzling afternoons and long dusks; uncomfortable for the short boy who had preferred the warmth that pooled in his gut with the sunshine.
Donghyuck had lazed drowsily in the tall grass, his vision blurred to a haze of jade and emerald, the chirp of cicadas muffling to a soft cry with the drooping of his eyelids downward. His mouth tasted of the strawberry lemonade that rested, teetering, in the grass beside him. The ice had melted to dilute it to a soft tang of sweetness in plain water. Donghyuck had lifted his arm lazily to trace the pads of his fingers against the fogged condensation of glass with the breeze that caressed the slicked skin of his bare forehead, his bangs flipped behind him with the angle his head rested.
The wind whistled with laughter in his ears, tips reddened in the summer heat, and tousled the soft curls that lay lax over his scalp. The soft hum of distant lawn mowers murmured lullabies over him and the heat exhaustion pulled his frame slack.
The soft thud of footsteps ambling over the dense earth had roused Donghyuck from his stupor and he’d squinted into the blinding canopy of light. The boy turned his blurred vision to the layer of green that met him eye level, the unfurling of blades glinting white with the reflection of sunny skies across their slick forms.
A pair of converse clad feet stood an arm’s length away.
“I trust you wouldn’t want me to mow over you.”
Donghyuck shifted his gaze up, trailing over the lanky legs, dressed in loose, dark-wash jeans, to the smug face that smiled down to him. The mid July sky blackened the features drastically, the ghost of his expression vague to Donghyuck’s squinted stare, and he could study only the black hair that rested softly over his darkened form and ruffled delicately in the wind.
Donghyuck bent his knees to settle the flat of his bare feet over the ground and slid them in the grass as he pulled himself to a seated position. The boy’s face came into view as he was no longer illuminated by the sunny sky.
“Who are you?” Donghyuck’s head was foggy with the heat as he tilted it at the boy who leaned down over him.
“Mark,” he spoke as if it was answer enough and the other’s brows rose.
“Okay…” Donghyuck trailed off in question.
“Your parents, I suppose, told me I could mow the grass,” Mark crouched beside Donghyuck with a soft smile, “and I don’t think you want to be in the middle of that.”
“My dad mows the grass.”
“Well, your dad is paying me to mow it today,” Mark grinned and the other twisted his mouth with a pout. He glanced to the long blades of green, no longer stunted with cold and growing excessively. Mark ran a hand through his dark hair and straightened once more, pushing heavily onto his knees with the effort. Donghyuck flumped backward into the grass and heaved a sigh.
“Can’t you mow around me?” he groaned.
The boy above him had smirked and let out a breathy chuckle as he stepped away.
“I suppose so.”
Donghyuck smiled to the familiar patch in the middle of his vast yard, dead center between the thick coating of trees that wrapped his property. It was unspectacular and glistening white with the rest of the large stretch but Donghyuck knew the spot with confidence. It was the only area that remained swathed in sunshine from dawn until dusk.
It was the only spot that remained overgrown the entirety of the summer months.
Donghyuck watched the door close behind Renjun, his form disappearing from view and causing the younger to lurch backward into his seat. Donghyuck sighed heavily, raking a hand through his disheveled hair and shutting his eyes tightly. He was tired and simply wanted to go home and slump into the fluff of his blankets.
Renjun was disconcerted, Donghyuck could tell, but he didn’t want to probe the elder – wasn’t keen on the idea of making the other more uncomfortable than he already described himself to be. Renjun’s business wasn’t Donghyuck’s. So, with a grumble and the crack of his knuckles, Donghyuck accelerated down the street from where he’d been stalling in front of the small house.
The neighborhood was quiet, the solitude of night dousing the houses in a mantle of violet hues. Donghyuck yawned, his eyes clenching shut as apprehension wracked his vulnerable state before he wrenched them wide to stare safely into the road. He lifted a hand from the wheel to bite the tip of his index, the nail scraping against the rough of his teeth.
Donghyuck startled with the drone of his phone reverberating through the quiet car, the radio silenced with the hush of the dead of night. The boy flicked his eyes to where the vibrating cell droned against his middle console, drifting with the sliding car, and reached blindly toward it. He grasped the cool metal, its screen greased slightly with Donghyuck’s lazy tendency to procrastinate cleaning it.
“Hello?” his voice rasped quietly. He kept his tone hushed in fear of breaking the tranquility that filled the car with a dull purr.
“Donghyuck,” the voice whined.
“What can I do you for, Mark?” he hummed, flicking his eyes across the road as he slowed before a stop sign.
“You sound like you’re in a car,” the crackled tone replied and Donghyuck huffed slightly.
“You sound like you’re not,” Donghyuck could hear the dull murmur of voices in the distant call, jeers and the drumming of music filtering into the microphone Mark spoke through to the other.
“Hyuckie, will you pick me up?” the boy whined once more, dragging out his words with a high pitch and light sniffle. Donghyuck rolled his eyes and lingered by the stop sign. There were few cars he’d encountered and he put the car in neutral, resting in the middle of the road as he looked to the phone in his hands.
Donghyuck felt his fatigue; he knew it was incredibly unsafe for him to continue driving with the lack of sleep that pulled him down. He dropped his head forward, lightly hitting it against the top of his steering wheel with a grunt before leaving it to hang there.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” the voice was breathy and Donghyuck wanted to groan.
“You’re not being helpful, Mark. It’s late.”
“Give me a minute to figure it out,” the tone was small and the boy grew agitated, glancing in the rear view mirror for any cars that drifted behind him. He remained alone. “Alright,” Mark spouted an address and Donghyuck looked for it in his phone, groaning at the distance it stood from his current location. It was closer to Mark’s college campus.
“I’m about to fall asleep, Mark,” Donghyuck trailed off and checked the dashboard of his car.
1:32
“I’ll stay on the call to keep you safe!” the muffled voice was slurred and overly pepped and Donghyuck pushed his bangs from his forehead, shifting the gears of his car and slinking forward.
“Technically you’re putting me in danger by being on the phone with me,” Donghyuck skimmed his eyes over the road, watching the turn of his automated directions and clicking the tail lights to signal his departure from the road.
“But you’re less likely to fall asleep,” he whined in response.
“Who are you with?”
“No one,” Mark whispered, Donghyuck could almost see the elder’s pout. “I came with Yukhei, from engineering, but he left earlier. He went to get ice cream, I think.”
“And you didn’t want ice cream?” Donghyuck almost cooed, his tone light as he spoke to the other’s small voice that was refracted through the drone of his phone.
Mark made a noise of affirmation and Donghyuck felt the pricking of a yawn spring tears to his eyes as he worked to fend it off. “-wanted to get tipsy,” he mumbled and Donghyuck scoffed.
“You sure this is just tipsy?”
“That was hours ago,” Donghyuck guffawed at the elder’s dejected tone and shifted lanes with a glance backward.
“Alright, Mark, sit tight,” Donghyuck smiled as the other hummed in response.
The younger had grown well acquainted with the different forms of Mark’s personality – the snarky whilst sober and the whine that would tear over Mark’s drunken daze. He’d begun to differentiate his own personality in accordance to dealing with such, comforting the elder when he was intoxicated and filled with a giddy childlike persona.
“-gonna take me home?” he whispered and Donghyuck’s stomach twisted – home was his own small house.
“Yes, I’ll take you home,” he said in his own hushed voice.
It had been a while since Donghyuck had first pulled the other into his room, their voices laced with hushed apprehension and secrets. Mark had slipped in through the door with a confused stumble and slid his hands over the rail behind Donghyuck, avoiding sneaking himself into his own house for fear of his parents. He’d returned mere days after without the glaze of alcohol heating his stomach and filling his eyes.
And Donghyuck continued to slip him into his room and onto his sheets.
“I’m hungry,” Mark whispered into the call.
“I’ll make you a snack at the house,” the other spoke as he continue to slip through the streets, easing onto the break at the gleam of red that reflected over his windshield.
“Popcorn?” the light voice was hopeful, excitement gleaming into the darkened backseat of the car.
“Popcorn’s a little loud,” Donghyuck spoke with a wince and a sniff filtered through the speaker, a shuffle following. Mark was nodding through a phone call. “How’s ice cream? Since you didn’t go with Yukhei,” Donghyuck laughed softly.
“Cookies and cream?” Mark piped in.
“And green tea,” Donghyuck almost winked to himself with the absence of the elder to tease, a grin sliding over his face as he heard the groan that flitted through the cell into his car.
“I don’t like the green tea flavor.”
“I know,” Donghyuck laughed. The directions read two minutes more. “I’m almost there.”
A grunt answered him and Donghyuck could hear shifting through the phone. “I’m by the mailbox,” came the reply and the other nodded to himself, straining his eyes in the dark to the houses that lined each street. He pulled to a stop as his phone ended the route. Donghyuck glanced to the mobile in his hands as the call clicked off and furrowed his brow. The door beside him opened and the cool air slipped in alongside a boy.
Donghyuck studied the slumped form, his head rested against the window before he turned to smile messily at the younger. His hair was askew and his hoodie rumpled slightly.
“Seatbelt,” Donghyuck nodded his head to the object and the other quickly twisted, slipping the belt over his body and securing it with a soft click. He looked up for approval and the other nodded, turning his eyes to the road and pulling forward.
The car ride remained quiet, the dazed boy drifting his eyes shut against the glass and slipping off with the thrum of its engine. Donghyuck yawned. The air was thick with the blast of the heater, his eyes stinging with the dry air that shot toward him, making breathing hard but keeping the warmth from dwindling away. Donghyuck frowned as his lethargy worsened with the heat that was emanating in the car.
He slumped his shoulders as he slid the car to a halt, twisting the key to kill the engine and snapping the belt that rested over him off. With a small stretch, Donghyuck hopped from the car and nudged the other’s shoulder, receiving a slit eyelid and slurred grumble. Donghyuck wrapped his arm over the other’s waist and pulled him into the house.
The hall light was flicked off and Donghyuck strained his eyes in the pitch dark, leading the languid form up the steep steps and into his shut bedroom. The curly haired boy slumped onto his mattress with a soft whine, his eyes drifting shut as he allowed sleep to seep in.
An overwhelming sense of warmth filled the pit of Donghyuck’s stomach, covering his body and shrouding him goosebumps, as the other looped his arms around the boy’s waist, his tender touch burning over his skin through the thick material of his sweatshirt.
“You promised ice cream.”
ii.
Donghyuck spent the birth of the New Year plagued with the fear of the acceptance letter he’d received the week prior.
He’d applied for early decision in a college out of state and away from the only familiarity he’d ever known.
And he had to leave.
iii.
The soft padding of sod molded over Donghyuck’s sock clad feet as he ventured into the yard. The air was warm, though an idle breeze chilled the beaming sun in the dull spring morning. He set his knees into the ground, pulling his sock loose over his foot where a hole revealed a strip of his heel. His fingers knitted in the cool grass, the dew wetting his hands and setting into the fabric of his pants that rested over the grass.
He held a small glass of water in his hands as he sat back onto his heels, sipping the liquid whilst gazing over the rim to the trees. The leaves were neon with the new breadth of spring blossoming, the dark green of forest not yet set in with the heat.
Donghyuck set the drink beside him in the slanted grass, water beading over it and slicking his hands. He leaned back onto his palms and his eyes trained upward to the pale sky, bending his elbows slightly with the tilt of his head. His hair brushed the nape of his neck with its slant and he watched the dainty puffs dance across the horizon.
Frogs croaked in the early morning light and the boy grinned, stretching his feet before him. The sky smiled over him; blue as an endless lake, sparkling and rippling smoothly. The soft drum of a distant grass cutter settled over Donghyuck’s lax form and he glanced toward the hilly street, his eyes venturing over the satin strands of each lawn. The smell of dew that followed the blooming of dawn was similar to that of after the rain; petrichor floating over the boy, distinct and earthen.
The distant hum of mowing cut out and Donghyuck yawned behind a flattened palm. He wiped his hand over his forehead, the wet of grass cooling and slicking the mound of bedhead away. He’d woken only to immediately venture toward the vast expanse of green, the temperature finally having risen to something tolerable in his pair of sweats and thin cotton sleep shirt. His stomach remained empty as he ignored its insistent growl to lie in the tepid weather.
The soft groan of wheels approached the lounging boy; lose gravel from the pavement crunching beneath. Donghyuck shut his eyes in the sunlight.
“It’s warm,” Donghyuck stated to the tips of trees, never turning to the scuttle of footsteps feet away.
“Ready to be my obstacle course?” Donghyuck squinted through the trees then turned with a grin to the elder.
“Aren’t I just a model and you a mere artist?”
“I’m tracing your outline with a grass cutter, not making a sculpture.”
Donghyuck pouted and turned away once more, leaning back further onto his forearms. “I want it to be summer.”
“Then you’ll have graduated,” Donghyuck tilted his head at the other’s words. He still felt like a child.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to – graduate, I mean.”
Mark scoffed from where he fumbled behind him, the push mower rattling with his actions. “You’re ready to graduate,” Donghyuck turned and met Mark’s gaze, his eyebrow raised, “you’re not ready to leave.”
“Does it make much of a difference?” Donghyuck skimmed his eyes over the weeds that scattered over the sidewalk. “I’m not going far anyway.”
“But you won’t have your lawn,” Mark shrugged, a small grin playing over his mouth as the younger scowled.
“Will you still mow around my spot?”
“No,” the other deadpanned bending over as the other feigned offence, “that’d be so much added effort.”
Donghyuck groaned and ground his heels into the soft dirt. “I’m still a kid.”
“At least you don’t mow lawns for a living.”
Donghyuck jeered, “I’m going to have to start to pay my tuition,” Mark laughed beside him and Donghyuck grinned timidly, humming with pride.
Mark halted his struggle and approached the younger, dropping onto the sodden grass. The two glared through the bright, spring sunshine and watched the flowering of spring unfold almost before their eyes; bird’s chirping and flitting through the budding trees. Donghyuck dropped back onto his forearms with a bend of his elbows.
“Do you like the summer?” Mark turned to him as Donghyuck addressed him.
“I do,” he started, turning back as he spoke, “but I also really like the snow.”
Donghyuck scrunched his nose, “But it’s all cold and wet – and muddy.”
“It gets muddy in the summertime too, Hyuck.”
Donghyuck hummed with a slight tilt to his head. “But it’s not miserably cold.”
“I’m not saying it’s not nice to have the warmth,” Mark shrugged, tipping his head back in the grass beside Donghyuck. Donghyuck leaned back to lie beside him, “I just also really like the snow, is all. I think it’s all very pretty. And sometimes the heat isn’t very nice.”
“And yet you mow lawns.”
“I had a mower and a need for cash.”
“And a hatred for heat,” Donghyuck tilted his head to the side and studied Mark’s lax form.
“And a summer baby to look forward to.”
Donghyuck’s stomach twisted and he glanced away with the flush that rose on his cheeks as posies. He hoped the burn of sun and warmth would mask the glow of red that set over him in embarrassment.
“Early June isn’t summer,” Donghyuck chided, though his voice was soft with near self-consciousness.
“Well, then I had my own personal sun to look forward to.”
Donghyuck grinned cheekily and turned to catch the elder’s eyes, “I thought you didn’t like the heat.”
Mark groaned and shook his head at the other. Donghyuck yawned with the rising light, settling above them heavily with the approach of midday. The soft breeze and damp of daybreak bid away to the newly sweltering sun that beat over Donghyuck’s splayed form. Mark sat up.
“I should probably get started so I’m not caught too far behind in the heat,” he stood with a hassle, stretching his arms upward and revealing a thin stripe of pale skin from below the white of his t-shirt hem.
“I’ll be here,” Donghyuck shut his eyes against the cheery boy above him, ignoring the tightening of his chest. The hum of the mower burst into Donghyuck’s ears and he smiled with its groan as it drove back and forth over his yard.
Donghyuck had found that he’d never once missed Mark mowing his lawn since the boy had first taken to doing so. He’d spent the majority of summers lounging in the squish of weeds and, in turn, had repeatedly encountered the elder whilst catnapping outdoors. He’d taken a routine to closing his eyes and humming alongside the thrum, tracing the movements with his ears as he imagined its route over his lawn. He’d wake himself, the newfound silence having startled him with the absence of the drum he’d grown accustomed, after drifting to a trance with the world painted blue from the darkness of his eyelids.
The brown haired boy glanced over the cloud that hung in the sky, bringing his index forward to bite over the nail and pad. He watched how they slid across the sky, wondering over whether they shifted or the world tilted. The mower passed behind him.
Donghyuck tilted his head back further, arching his spine to glance at the boy that paced behind him. His brow was furrowed slightly as he studied the green blades harshly, pushing the humming machine with a slight sheen over his temple. Donghyuck grinned as he caught his eye.
The younger boy broke his eyes away and rested back onto the flat of ground with the overpowering sense of warmth that hung over him with the elder’s smirk. Goosebumps crawled over Donghyuck’s skin and he rolled his eyes in annoyance towards his body’s reaction, a tingle springing in the pit of his stomach, in the muscles of his calves, in the pads of his fingers.
He lifted his hands above him, the tips of each of his appendages outstretched toward the sky. He studied the caress of his fingers against the expanse of sky, reaching to touch the puffs of white and sea of blue. It appeared so tangible to him.
The groan of Mark’s mower cut out and Donghyuck allowed his hands to remain hanging above him – ever reaching to the heavens. The soft ground squished below the familiar converse clad feet and a pale hand slid over the younger’s outstretched ones, clasping it softly.
Donghyuck’s hand burned even with the ever-present cold of Mark’s palms.
Mark lowered himself beside Donghyuck once more, the hand held for leverage before tenderly released onto the grass. They remained silent for a moment, Donghyuck’s left hand still lifted toward the skies while the right rested in the tall grass.
“What’re you doing?”
“I don’t know,” Donghyuck shrugged and dropped his arm with a thud, “it all looks so pretty.”
Mark shifted to study the sky further. “It’s very blue today.”
Donghyuck hummed softly and released a yawn, he dung his hands into the strands of green and tugged. A few blades broke off into his fists.
“I’ll give you the sky for summer.”
Donghyuck grunted and crossed his brows as he glanced to the elder, “You’re giving me what?”
“I mean the sky is better in summer,” Mark scoffed, “like, I give you the point. In winter it can be dreary, I guess? But summer skies are always pleasant.”
Donghyuck shook his head, “What about when it storms?”
“They turn the sky orange sometimes. That’s cool.”
Donghyuck laughed and tipped his head onto the cool sod. Mark grinned and slanted his eyes to Donghyuck’s brightened expression, his eyes squinted in joy. “Do you think summers are like this everywhere?”
“Like what?” Mark wondered and Donghyuck raised his shoulders.
“Always so sunny and warm.”
“Isn’t that the concept of summer, Duckie?” Donghyuck grinned with the name.
He laughed in embarrassment, “Well, I don’t know. What about Antarctica?”
“It’s still closest to the sun in summer so – yeah. Summer for them may be a hell of a lot different than it is for us but, it’s still the brightest time of the year, isn’t it?” Donghyuck shrugged again. Mark laughed at the response to his rhetorical questioning.
“Alright,” Donghyuck continued to grapple with the grass, pulling the greenery above his face and braiding the pieces together. A few dropped onto his cheeks and he blew them away with a huff as the other chuckled. Donghyuck’s face remained pensive as he studied his fiddling fingers. “Do you think I’m ready to leave?”
Mark grunted his confusion.
“Like for college.”
“That’s not really something I can dictate,” Donghyuck turned to the boy’s response.
“I don’t think I’m ready to leave home – or grow up, for that matter,” Mark’s eyes flit between Donghyuck’s worried stare, searching them for something – maybe the correct response he wanted to hear. Donghyuck wasn’t sure what that response would be.
“We all grow up eventually.”
Donghyuck’s heart sped as he spoke, his chest pained with his thoughts, “It’s all so scary to me – being alive.”
“What do you mean, Hyuck?” Mark’s brows were crunched together.
“I- thinking about leaving reminds me that I’m growing up and it’s all going fast. I’m just reminded of mortality, I guess,” the younger almost expected Mark to laugh with the small curve of his lips.
“It’s not something we can control, Duckie. Besides, growing up is something beautiful. You just have to push past that fear to see the beauty in aging, I suppose,” surprise flickered over Donghyuck’s features and he quirked his head, digging his scalp further into the dirt.
“It’s beautiful?”
“Why not?” Mark’s smile had grown bright and Donghyuck’s eyes jumped to rest over his beaming mouth, “It’s rare and lucky, so why not see it as beautiful? Even if it’s scary, it’s unavoidable and rather exciting to think about,” Mark’s eyes glinted as the younger turned back to them. They were fairly close to each other, noses mere inches apart as they lay in the yard. “And you won’t always think of it as so scary.”
“I just don’t like the idea that life is so fragile.”
“You’re going to college, Donghyuck,” Mark smirked and cocked an eyebrow as the other frowned slightly, “not war. I don’t think you need to worry about death yet.”
“I can’t help it,” Donghyuck sighed, turning back to the blue of sky, “and graduating is just a constant reminder of how fast everything moves.”
“Just because it’s fast doesn’t mean it won’t be enjoyable,” Mark softened his expression even as the younger remained looking away. The elder could tell how unwell the other felt with the topic, his golden face paled with apprehension, “don’t worry over things you can’t control, Donghyuck. It’ll all turn out how it should in the end.”
Donghyuck flicked his eyes toward the elder, his stomach twisted and the backs of his eyes burning with the thought of it all coming to an ending – an end that may be simply emptiness. He shook the thoughts from his head with a soft smile toward the elder.
“Yeah, you’re right, I know. It just all scares me so much.”
“We can’t control it all, focus on what you can control. Growing up is never a bad thing. I hope you can be excited about graduating, I know I was. You deserve it, Donghyuck.” Donghyuck laughed slightly with Marks words and studied the sky with a soft smile.
Growing up was inevitable. Leaving was inevitable.
But he didn’t have to change with it.
“I’m excited to not have to be quiet for midnight snacks,” Mark giggled beside him and nodded.
“Unless your roommate actually gets sleep, unlike you,” Donghyuck sneered at Mark’s words and shot him a playful glare.
“I don’t need sleep.”
“Not according to these,” Mark quipped, swiping a finger below Donghyuck’s eyes. Donghyuck didn’t say the only reason he stayed up was to make sure the other could get inside.
“I get plenty of sleep.”
“Yeah, because you nap all day,” Mark shifted his gaze back to the budding trees, “and you just said you didn’t need any.”
“I don’t.”
Mark rolled his eyes and knocked his shoulder against the other’s. Donghyuck’s cheeks flushed. “Sure you don’t,” sarcasm laced his tone and Donghyuck watched him as he looked upward. The sun rested high in the sky, a blinding white with midday and Donghyuck’s stomach nearly rumbled with the reminder of the hours he’d spent lounged over the grass in his sweatpants.
“I guess I should head inside,” Donghyuck’s eyes were glazed as they flickered over the bright sky, heat already beginning to color his skin and bead his hairline with sweat in the early spring. He wondered over the heat that would accompany the oncoming summer, the spring’s temperature already above average than he’d have expected. None of it was unwelcomed – Donghyuck happened to like the sweltering hot.
“You were my last house so I can just pack up,” Mark shoved upward on his hands and stood. He bent slightly over the younger as he remained in a laying position and lowered an open palm to him. Donghyuck grasped it and pulled upward; Mark’s palm was cool despite the heavy heat and Donghyuck’s own was slickened with perspiration. He grimaced and swiped it over his pants with a muttered apology. Mark only giggled.
“Did you want a drink before you left?” Donghyuck remembered his mother’s hospitality each time she encountered the boy, offering such to Mark similarly as she did.
“Mind if I just steal some of yours?” Mark waved a hand down to the small mason jar of melting ice and water. The younger nodded and crouched to grab it for him. The glass dripped with condensation but a few small cubes of ice glistened with their float over the water. Donghyuck stretched it toward the elder, wincing slightly with the brush of their fingertips over each other’s. Donghyuck blamed the wet coating the glass for how his hand nearly slipped.
“Thanks, Hyuck,” Mark sipped the cool liquid quickly, heat having dried his mouth. His throat bobbed with each swallow and Donghyuck hurried his eyes away as his heartbeat quickened.
Mark’s skin glistened with sweat under the warm skies and he seemed to blend with the flowering spring that sprung around them; a piece of nature’s beauty, shining in the bright sunshine as spring soaked away the wet of winter. He was still pale, despite his surplus of time spent outdoors over lawns, and the blinding of his perspiration appeared nearly ethereal.
He felt a fire in his stomach, sparked with the intimate view of the elder’s throat, and it sent his mind nearly dizzied. The joints of his knees tingled and an ache shocked through Donghyuck’s fingers as he clenched them inward into a fist, carving soft moons into the curve of his palm. The creases of his elbows felt warm alongside the backs of his knees and the slope of his neck. Donghyuck sighed and rolled his neck over his shoulders in a stretch.
His chest felt painfully tight.
iv.
Donghyuck stood beside Renjun, a beam plastered brightly over his face and an arm wrapped around the smaller. The black of his gown was blistering in the late May sun, absorbing the sunlight that radiated from above and submerging the boy in a constant cloak of heat and sweat.
Donghyuck watched his mother, a small woman whose personality made up for lack of height in extroversion, as she crouched before the pair, a small camera clutched in her hand. Renjun laughed beside him as she spouted directions and twisted her body to get a few strange angles. Donghyuck groaned and told her to get on with it.
The small huddle of boys stood behind Donghyuck’s mother, watching the antics unfold with a cloud of snickers. Jaemin and Jeno were draped in similar gowns, the tassels of their caps having already been flipped alongside their peers during the ceremony, while the three others were dressed in vaguely formal attire.
Donghyuck wanted to leave, watching the parking lot fill with traffic as they stood about lazily. It’d be awhile before he could pull his car out, the others in tow, and arrive at the small donut joint that lay on the highway a little ways away from the high school. He had a graduation cake he’d preordered awaiting his gurgling belly.
He’d had a small granola bar to dull his hunger but it had only lasted the extent of him bounding over the stage, grabbing his diploma (though the folder he received hadn’t actually held the certificate) with a bright grin and slight hop. He found that the surplus of photos he’d taken with his small group of friends drained him and furthered his want to retreat to his old car with the continuous spouts of direction his mother shouted tirelessly.
Renjun stepped away from Donghyuck’s side and approached the outstretched hand of Jaemin, a bright grin splintering the younger’s expression as Renjun approached. A small smile curled the corners of Donghyuck’s lips as the pair curled into each other despite the nearing summer heat. A camera clicked and Donghyuck scowled at his mother as she caught the pair in a photograph.
Donghyuck dragged his feet forward as his mother ushered him to join the group hurriedly, the sun burning the dark of his hair that slipped from his cap. He approached the others, standing a small ways away from the couple that beamed toward his mother’s lens. Donghyuck glanced away as his arm was tugged, Jaemin’s fingers clasping the loose sleeve and pulling him into the two boys’ embrace. Jaemin’s eyes never left the camera before them. Donghyuck laughed.
The camera clicked.
A thin pair of arms wrapped over Donghyuck’s shoulders and he startled as the head settled over his shoulder. Mark shot a bright beam to the camera as Donghyuck mused over his sudden appearance, glancing over his features. Donghyuck’s cheeks heated and a small smile slipped onto his mouth.
The camera clicked.
“Alright,” Donghyuck’s shoulders deflated as his mother straightened fully, dropping the camera from her face for the first time in what had felt like hours. “Will you be coming home with us Donghyuck?” she spoke to the boy as she neared him and he shook his head gently, the soft of tassel tickling across his ear and the bare of his heated neck.
“I have to pick up the donut cake,” he stated as she gripped onto his hand with a soft smile, assessing his form for the millionth time, “I think the others are coming with, I’ll be home by the time you wanted to have lunch though,” Donghyuck lifted his phone to glance at the time that it read. “If I can ever get out of this parking lot,” he muttered as he returned his eyes to the bumper to bumper traffic that filled the lot.
She smiled again and Donghyuck watched his dad approach from the small gathering of other parents that dispersed to their children, lifting his hands in a small wave.
“You be careful then,” she stated and turned to the older man.
“Congratulations, Donghyuck,” his dad grinned and Donghyuck chuckled at the words he’d already heard repeated continuously, “I heard you all were planning a trip for a few weeks from now?”
Donghyuck turned his eyes to the boys that surrounded him, each grinning to their parents, “We wanted to head to the beach for my birthday,” he looked back to the taller form of his father.
“Were you planning on mentioning it?” he winked and Donghyuck rolled his eyes.
“We’ve still got two weeks until then, we weren’t sure if it was happening yet,” he raised his shoulders alongside his eyebrows.
“Well, alright,” his father rested a hand over his shoulder, the other palm still clutched in his mother’s palm. Donghyuck studied the smiling pair with a soft admiration, grinning at their reflected expressions and leaning into his mother’s side.
“You didn’t get any pictures with me,” he said softly, nudging her and her features softened further.
“I thought you wouldn’t be willing for more photos,” she teased and he shrugged.
He clutched his mom’s hand tighter and lifted the camera from where it hung over her neck. It slipped over her tied hair and he turned to the figure of Jaemin with his parents. “Jaemin, take a picture for me?” The boy turned with a smile and shot him a thumb up, backing away from the pair of his parents and reaching an outstretched hand toward Donghyuck’s extended camera.
“Don’t worry Mrs. Lee, I’m a professional,” he winked and she chuckled with the tall boy.
“You take after me,” Jaemin laughed with a nod at the memory of her photography.
Donghyuck gripped his mother’s hand and rested his head over his father’s taller shoulder, a bright beam raising his cheeks and crinkling his eyes to a squint. Jaemin took a few photos, a smile reflecting the other’s expressions as he clicked over the shutter.
“Thank you,” he muttered to his parents and his mother’s hand tightened over his.
Donghyuck had spent that past month drenched in apprehension toward the descent of his graduation. He’d feared the day repeatedly and allowed it to greatly affect the plans his parents had tried to begin to spring on him – the approach of his relatives and party invitations. His mother had noticed and quickly taken to comforting the boy as he found himself plagued with dread toward the sudden change.
Instead of a day filled with anxiety, he’d received one of happiness. And Donghyuck owed it all to his family. He owed it all to Mark’s words as they lay in the grass.
Donghyuck’s mother stepped away toward Jaemin while thanking him and grabbed the small camera from him.
“Are you coming with me to the donut shop?” the elder nudged Jaemin and he nodded, gesturing back toward Renjun.
“We’ll meet you there; I’m going to ride with him so we can stop by the store after.”
Donghyuck nodded and hummed along with Jaemin’s words, glancing over Renjun. He was beaming up to his parents, his hands grasped tightly together as they fussed over his crooked cap. Donghyuck hadn’t spoken to them often, introduced merely months prior, but Renjun had started to speak of them repeatedly – of how they’d begun to treat him since he’d first grown closer with Donghyuck the past winter.
“Do you know if Jeno is coming?” Donghyuck glanced to the boy who was further away, situated beside his mother.
“I think we’re all coming, but Jeno has his car so he probably won’t carpool – saves time from needing to pick it up after,” Donghyuck nodded with Jaemin’s words, “Jisung needs a ride though, he said he refused to ride with us because he’ll third wheel.”
Donghyuck lifted a brow, “He didn’t drive here?”
“Shocking, I know. Despite him being an avid and wonderful driver since he got his license, Chenle’s parents drove the both of them this morning. Mark too, I think,” Donghyuck glanced to the black haired boy whose loud giggle resounded near them.
“Yeah, he told me that. He doesn’t have his car with him at college,” Donghyuck mused.
“I wish my college let me have my car as a freshman – walking everywhere sounds unappealing,” Jaemin whined and Donghyuck chuckled.
“Where would you have to go other than to class, Jaemin? You’re living on campus, you don’t need it.”
“I should be able to drive away from campus if I’d like, and without a car I can’t.”
Donghyuck shook his head as he glanced up to the younger, “You don’t need a car.”
Jaemin pouted, “Easy for you to say, you get your car.”
“I’m also going out of state for college,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes and tugged his parents’ sleeves for their attention. They turned to him with slightly raised eyebrows. “I think I’ll head out now,” he pointed his voice toward them and his mother smiled.
“Alright, we’ll do the same then. Drive safe?” Donghyuck’s mother stated and the boy smiled, reaching his arm out to hug her side.
“Will do. I’ll be home in an hour or so,” Donghyuck assessed the parking lot, the line having shortened vastly and the spots cleared nearly entirely. He squinted to the light gray form of his car and noted the lack of cars surrounding it. His mother nodded and he waved a hand and backed away, pushing Jaemin forward with him.
“I’m going to offer the others a ride,” Donghyuck split off from Jaemin’s beeline toward Renjun and laughed at the grunt from the other as he smiled sweetly to the small boy that whined with his parents.
Chenle tugged Donghyuck into a hug as he neared them and the elder begin to screech, flailing his arms, “Congratulations, Hyuck!” he shouted and the boy whined at the assault.
“I get it, I get it!” he shouted as the two youngest continued to fuss over him. He pulled back and straightened his gown. “I was going to offer a ride, but I suppose not after that.”
Chenle whined and reached for Donghyuck again. The elder ducked away closer to the eldest.
“Don’t stick me in a car with Renjun and Jaemin,” Jisung groaned, glancing to the clasped hands of his elders from across the sidewalk.
“Jeno’s always an option,” Donghyuck shrugged his shoulders and lifted a hand toward the approaching boy and Jisung shook his head.
“You ride with Jeno and it’ll take forever. I swear he slows at green lights just in case they turn yellow,” Jeno rolled his eyes as he listened to the younger boy’s words, unfurling his middle fingers with a glance to his preoccupied parents, “I just want donuts, I’m too hungry to wait for him to check every blind spot when he turns.”
“Remind me to never get in a car you’re driving,” Donghyuck muttered with a soft giggle, “you need to check blind spots when you merge, buddy.”
“At least I won’t die,” Jeno grunted and waved goodbye to his parents that shouted in the distance.
“Okay, Grandpa,” Jisung shrugged, “I’m just always in a hurry.”
“If you ride with me I’m going to give you a lesson on driving,” Donghyuck stated with a smirk, watching the other roll his eyes.
“I passed my test, I think I’m fine.”
“You almost maxed out on checks, bud,” Chenle nudged him and Jisung turned to him with a scowl.
“I still passed.”
Donghyuck turned to Mark and brushed his arm with a hand. The elder flicked his dark eyes to Donghyuck’s. “Are you riding with me or Jeno?” Donghyuck said softly and the other smiled in response, bending his elbow slightly to dig into the younger’s gut. The boy scowled and shoved Mark away.
“I’ll go with you – easier for you to drop me off after, anyway,” Donghyuck nodded and turned back to the bickering younger boys.
“Alright, well, I’m leaving,” Donghyuck laughed and walked off, aware of Mark’s presence at his side but ignoring the scramble of boys following him. Jeno shouted to the boys who ran from him as he offered to drive them. Donghyuck waved to Renjun and his parents, Jaemin grinning at him as he flung his car door open and settled into his seat.
“My air conditioner is broken so you have to deal with the windows down instead,” Donghyuck laughed as the boys groaned, settling into the old car and sticking their hands out the windows as the boy rolled them down slowly. The smell of the car was stale with the heat that settled in it as it sat roasting in the rising sun as midday approached.
Donghyuck settled his hands over the leather steering wheel and flinched away with a hiss directed at the heat that radiated from it.
“Ow,” he whined and Mark flicked his ear with a teasing giggle.
Donghyuck pulled the car backward, steering toward the entrance of the school before drifting down the neighborhoods and townhouses that surrounded the high school campus, turning onto the small highway. Music hummed softly through the air, muted by the whipping of wind through the open windows of Donghyuck’s car. It was cool through Donghyuck’s heated strands of hair, having pulled the cap off once he’d settled into the car, and he tapped his fingers along the wheel as conversation flitted through the vehicle.
Excitement seemed to lace Chenle as he bounced forward on the seat, shouting over the wail of breeze into the ears of Mark and Donghyuck. “I want a cookies and cream donut,” he giggled and Mark nodded, turning back to face the pair seated in the back.
“It’s my favorite,” Donghyuck studied the excitement that laced Mark’s face with a fond grin before quickly turning his gaze back toward the road. His chest warmed with Mark’s laughter and he tightened his hands over the steering wheel. His skin tingled as Mark brushed his arm to straighten himself forward in his seat and he smiled toward the boy.
“Anything with cookies and cream is your favorite,” he quipped and Mark giggled, a tickle blooming in his throat with the tightening of his chest at the sound. He coughed softly and straightened once more.
“I have taste,” Mark nudged Donghyuck and he rolled his eyes against the slight tremor that wracked his fingers momentarily.
“What cake did buy, Donghyuck?” Jisung piped in from behind him and Donghyuck felt his cheeks flush slightly despite the cooling wind. He hesitated a moment with a sulk before plastering a small pout over his lips.
“Cookies and cream,” he mumbled and Mark giggled alongside Chenle’s loud guffaw.
“You’re so considerate,” Chenle teased and Donghyuck found his eyes rolled again with a sneer.
“You all will be the ones eating it anyway so I figured I couldn’t go wrong with a huge cookies and cream donut,” Donghyuck shrugged, turning into the small parking lot and switching his gear to park the car. With the sudden halting of wind flitting through the car heat began to seep in heavily, resting in Donghyuck’s nose as he gazed up to the pale blue sky, his eyes squinted against the sunlight.
“Thank you, Hyuck,” the younger turned to Mark and was met with a grin and tilted him head in question, “for buying us a cake.”
“You act as if I won’t be eating it too,” Donghyuck scoffed before tugging Mark’s arms away from the silver car, sun reflecting blindingly off the slick surface. The elder groaned and tried to lightly shove him off but he grasped him tightly with a loud laugh.
Donghyuck glanced over the small lining of trees that lay around the donut shop, standing below the cover that hung over the small picnic tables, and studied the leaves. They’d darkened with the approach of summer, no longer the bright shade of spring but the deep shade that greeted the forest with the summertime heat. The soft breeze that went unnoticeable in the blister of sunshine hanging directly over them with its height in the sky rustled the branches that lay high over the ground.
The cars that flew past added to the dull roar of heat, the groan that accompanied nature’s temperature flitting through Donghyuck’s ears as he grinned at his surroundings. The air was gauzy with the humidity but the boy had always found he liked the way it seemed to cling to his clothes and submerge him in unavoidable warmth. He longed for the cool slick of condensation on a glass of water that drowned his hands from the gaze of bronzed sun and to sink into the soft pool that lay a walk away from his home.
Even in the sultriest days of summer, Donghyuck liked to stand in the quivering heat with a sweet sweat that slickened his brow and stickied his skin. Warmth was home.
Donghyuck slipped through the swinging glass door into the air conditioned room of the small shop. He approached the trio that stood before the counter, wallets in hand as they pointed to individual donuts that lay behind the glass counter. Donghyuck stood behind them with a fond expression.
The group stole to Jeno’s car with the arrival of their orders, relishing in the cooling that flittered through the closed windows as they chewed the soft donuts. Jeno’s car was the largest of the group, though still rather small to accompany the seven boys that huddled inside. Donghyuck found himself perched over Chenle’s lap as Jisung laid across the floor with a scowl to the constant shove of Jaemin’s feet against him, dirt scuffing his light shirt.
Jeno scrolled his hand through music on his phone as Mark perched his back against the dashboard of the car, his feet curled below him on the seat. Donghyuck glanced out the window as he ate, watching the small birds that grazed the crumbs of the parking lot, black asphalt sending waves of heat radiating through the air.
“Are you excited to leave, Donghyuck?” the boy turned his gaze to Jeno’s smile before clashing his eyes with Mark’s instinctually. His expression was soft, his mouth twisted to the side slightly in consideration and Donghyuck turned back to the other quickly.
“A little bit now, yeah,” he smiled as he spoke, bringing his index upward to bite the skin there, finding it sweet and sticky with the glazing of his donut that he’d shifted to hold in the other palm.
“You weren’t before?” Jisung asked from the floor and Donghyuck’s mouth twitched.
“Just nervous of the change, is all,” he shrugged and avoided the familiar dark eyes that remained trained over him, settling to meet Jeno’s instead. The boy offered him a bright smile, his eyes disappearing into a crinkle.
“I want to graduate,” Chenle groaned and the rest chuckled lightly, Jaemin tapping his shoulder in a light push.
“It’s your last year now,” Jaemin shrugged and Chenle grinned as he muttered about it being the final stretch.
Donghyuck flicked his eyes to Mark as he began to giggle, clapping loudly with a slap to the fabric seats of Jeno’s car as the others joked. His face was blushed with the summer heat and laughter, his eyes glistening in joy. A small crumb of the crushed chocolate cookie lay stuck to his lip with the glaze of his pastry and Donghyuck felt himself itch to brush it away softly.
The boy met Donghyuck’s gaze and he flicked his eyes away from the other’s lips, turning with a sudden interest in studying his hands as Chenle shifted below him, knocking him slightly askew from where he balanced himself over his legs.
He felt his cheeks heat slightly, a red bloom of roses dusting his bronzed skin tone, and he tilted his head down, his bangs falling to mask his expression. His hands tremored slightly with the heat of the elder’s gaze and he clenched his toes within the pair of dress shoes he’d laced over them.
“We should be heading out,” Renjun softly spoke, tugging Jaemin from beside him as he propped open the car door. Heat flooded the vehicle and beamed over Donghyuck. “I still need to pick some things up from the store to make dinner.”
“What time will you head over to mine?” Donghyuck wondered and Jaemin responded for Renjun.
“We’ll come slightly early to cook – how’s four?”
Donghyuck nodded and mumbled a goodbye with the others before piping up to the others, “Alright, I should head out too,” he turned to Jeno, “can you bring those two home since they’re a bit a ways away from my house? I need to get there soon for family.”
Jeno nodded and Donghyuck crumpled his napkin as Mark stepped from the car. Donghyuck slipped from the back seat and started toward his own vehicle, parked only a few spots down. Mark’s hand brushed his own as he hurried to walk beside him.
Donghyuck hurried to open his car window, the wind cooling his colored skin.
The yellow glow of Donghyuck’s lamp painted his skin golden in the dim glow of his room. A large bowl of chips rested beside him, poured from the bowl and left to grow stale in the after effects of his graduation party. He dug his hand into it, scrolling through his computer with a fist clenched in his hair, elbow rested on the desk.
His window was propped open, his parents’ consistent refusal to turn on the air conditioning strong despite the heat of late May evenings. A loose cotton t-shirt draped over his frame, accompanied by a loose pair of basketball shorts that kept him cool with the heat that breathed down his back. He could hear a grouping of toads croaking over each other, ringing noise through his house and laying an atmosphere of summer comfort over him.
A smooth breeze flitted through the window, its screen blowing with the gust and preventing the arrival of mosquitoes into his room. He glanced away from the bright light of his computer screen that shone onto his face, adjusting his eyes as he gazed into his yard.
With a sigh he leaned back and rubbed his eyes roughly. He shut the lid of his laptop and stood from the uncomfortable desk chair with a whine, stretching his limbs upward as a soft crack resounded through the room. His phone began to ring and he reached for it.
“I’m coming back over,” Donghyuck could hear the movement of Mark’s walking through the phone call and he nodded to himself.
“Hello – yes, this is Donghyuck. I’m well, how are you?” Mark muttered an apology as Donghyuck teased and he bent his neck, letting it crack as he set it over his own shoulder. “I’ll just run down and unlock the door, you can let yourself in.”
“Okay,” Donghyuck clicked his phone off without a dismissal, tossing it onto the nearly stripped bare bed. He’d removed the surplus of blankets with the reproach of heat and it looked solemn in its naked form.
The stairs creaked below Donghyuck and he glanced toward the darkened doorway of his parents’ room. With the snap of the handle’s lock, Donghyuck turned back toward the stairs and bounded carefully upward in silence. The door opened just moments after he’d settled himself against his headboard once more and he looked up from his phone, butterflies of nerves fluttering rapidly in his stomach.
“Hey,” he whispered as the elder slid the door shut behind him. He grinned as he glanced up to Donghyuck’s relaxed form.
“How have you been?”
“Since three hours ago? Pretty well,” Donghyuck chuckled and turned his eyes back to the screen of his phone, reading the email he’d trained his eyes upon.
“I’m glad,” Mark rustled the chips within the bowl that sat on Donghyuck’s desk, grappling with a handful before lazing onto the foot of the bed. The younger couldn’t find it in himself to mind the crumbs. “Why’d you stay up?”
Donghyuck shrugged, setting his cell down and tugging at the strands of hair that rested messily over his forehead. “I was playing games for a while.”
Mark nodded, his jaw clenching with the crunch of chips over his molars. Donghyuck leaned forward and snatched one from where the boy cradled them within his palm, dodging the swat that had been directed toward him with the thievery. Mark settled back onto the bed and watched the younger as he munched thoughtfully.
“Are you happy you’ve graduated?”
Donghyuck smiled softly and met his probing gaze with a soft nod and nose of affirmation, “It was nice.”
“Are you still nervous?”
Donghyuck shrugged, “Lesser so than I have been in the past.”
“I still suppose that’s good,” Mark said with a bemused tone and Donghyuck nodded his head rapidly, the fluff of hair he’d pushed back flopping into his eyes.
“I’m happy with it,” he raised his shoulders again, “it still all scares me but I think I’m more ready to go off on my own.”
“You’ll like college, Hyuckie,” Mark smiled and Donghyuck raised his brows slightly with amusement.
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m sure. It’ll all be good for you,” he turned his head back to the ceiling, “and even with your college being far away I’ll still be there for you – and all the others,” Mark laughed to himself. “We’re all proud of you, Hyuck.”
“For being smart enough to get into a private college?” he laughed and Mark rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, but also for being able to push yourself to go places alone.”
Donghyuck slid further down the headboard with a soft sigh, “If I’m brave enough to leave.”
“You’ll be fine,” Mark laughed. The two had never mentioned how Donghyuck’s leaving would affect the elder and his constant coming to the younger’s house. Donghyuck knew Mark didn’t need the place to stay, he was plenty comfortable with his own home only a walking distance away and he had his own dorm on the college campus, and yet it’d been years since the two had begun to spend their nights together and Mark had continued to appear.
Donghyuck wasn’t the only one affected by the change of routine.
“I’m sure,” he smiled, leaving his thoughts hidden, and straightened from the bed to approach the light switch of his lamp. “I think I’ll sleep now,” he stated and grabbed another handful of chips to shove into his mouth. Donghyuck flicked the lights off and fumbled through the dark to get to his mattress.
The sudden submersion into darkness had settled a new cool over the room, the dark accompanied by the night breezes that curled into the air. Despite the lowered temperatures of night, the mattress remained warm as Donghyuck settled a knee onto it, sliding further in the bed before falling onto his back.
The mattress dipped beside him and Donghyuck’s breath hitched quietly with the heavy arms that looped over his waist. The locking of their bodies together shouted of intimacy, leaving Donghyuck lightheaded as he clenched his eyes closed. Exhaustion set in, broken only with the desperate pounding of his chest. His skin prickled with the heat that engulfed him but he couldn’t bring himself to shove away, a soft sweat beginning to lace him.
Moonlight shone across the bare bed, spreading like liquid over their intertwined forms and elegantly framing their skin in shades of drastic coloration – silvery ivory and golden bronze. Donghyuck’s stomach bubbled with the nerves that ebbed into him, the summery feel of their forms springing wet to his eyes. He clenched his hands into fists where they rested over the mattress before him.
Mark held Donghyuck’s back tight to his chest, thumbing circles over the exposed skin of his wrist and springing goosebumps over his body. The heat of the elder’s breath traced over his neck, warmth tickling him into a frenzy of drunken haze. Donghyuck’s own breathing was hushed in the dark, the nape of his neck tingling.
Donghyuck’s eyes stung with the tangling of Mark’s legs in his own, unable to feel the separation of his own body from the other’s. The wave of air across his neck began to slow, the fingers that traced over his wrist slackening and releasing the fabric of his cotton t-shirt from their grasp.
A soft draft tickled the hair across Donghyuck’s temple, flicking it into his eyes, and sang a soft lullaby into the roaring of his ears. Sleep began to clutch him as the form that curled around him began to mumble softly.
Starlight cradled their soft embrace.