Chapter Text
Mark was scared.
Of what – he wasn’t sure. Maybe he was scared of Donghyuck’s world – of the confidence the boy held toward himself, his buoyant laughter floating above the trickling conversation the cafeteria held. Or maybe he was more so scared of the feelings he hid – of the twisting fist over his gut when the boy’s bright grin pointed toward him. Maybe he was scared of being found out.
No matter whatever fears Mark held, sitting at the table just adjacent to the culprit who sent his nerves cascading down in tremors was never a good idea.
Mark slanted an eye to the boy a few seats down, fiddling with the fabric of his lunch pack. The box was cool against his hands from where he’d dropped an icepack in the side zipper and he felt it ebb some of the apprehension in them. Donghyuck was surrounded with his friends, giddy laughter spilling over his heart shaped grin and Mark flicked his eyes away anxiously, surveying the other’s positions in line as he waited impatiently. Mark spotted Yukhei’s towering form inching forward.
The tawny haired boy pulled a sandwich from his bag, wincing at the squish of the cold bread between his fingertips. He bit in with a grimace toward the sogginess. Laughter flitted through the air continuously. Mark slanted his eyes to his peripherals.
Donghyuck clung to the boy beside him – Mark knew him as Jaemin from his Music Theory class – with a petulant pout, his cheek squished into the boy’s shoulder. Mark surveyed the coppery strands of hair that were splayed over Donghyuck’s cheek, contrasting the remaining tan of the summer prior that seemed to paint him in a constant golden haze. He grinned with mischief and Mark tore his eyes away once more to pick at the crust of his sandwich, guilt pooling in his gut with his stare.
Crumbs fell onto the beeswax wrap he’d had the food folded in – his mother having gone on a plastic waste prevention rampage to save money (and the environment) before the school year had properly begun – and set his sandwich down, swiping the back of his wrist against his mouth. Mark pulled the top layer of bread from the stack, a frown playing over the corners of his lips as he glanced over it.
The one flaw, Mark found, to having a mother who offered to build his lunches was her inability to remember what food, and particularly condiments, he would eat. Mark hated mustard. And it seemed his mother was dead set on using it every day. He pulled the paper napkin – a necessity his mother hadn’t been able to give up in favor of savings – from his lunch and frowned at its similar coldness to the sandwich. Mark swiped it over crust with a grimace. The white of the napkin smeared with yellow.
“Why don’t you just make your own sandwiches?”
Mark jumped slightly, flicking his eyes up as Yukhei settled onto the seat just before him. The plastic of his tray clinked slightly and Mark shrugged. He flicked an eye discreetly to his right, shielding his mustard soiled napkin and open sandwich out of embarrassment. Donghyuck remained preoccupied with his friends, no cares directed toward the boy.
“I wake up too late,” Mark flipped the dejected food over, checking the other slice for more of the vetoed spread. He found mayonnaise instead and shrugged, closing it once more and lifting it to his mouth.
“Explains why you look how you do every day.”
Mark balked, squinting a glare toward the elder boy and scrunching his nose with distaste. “No, I wake up too late to make my lunch. I never said anything about not making myself look decent.”
Yukhei snorted and Mark watched as he scraped the food from his plate with a soft clink. He dropped the fork with a clang and Mark flinched, slipping his jaw into his palm to turn slightly away from the crowd of boys seated beside him, before Yukhei leaned further over the table with a lopsided grin. Mark raised his eyebrows. “What does that say about your appearance then – if you have time to fix yourself up in the morning and still look like that?” he gestured to Mark.
Mark scowled, reaching a hand forward and flicked the boy between his brows. They knit together and he drew back suddenly, rubbing the afflicted area with peevishness. A body dropped beside Mark and he turned, leaning slightly away from the boy.
“What’d he do?” Renjun probed.
“Why is it always assumed I did something?” Yukhei loud voice whined and Mark scowled, resisting the urge to turn and assure himself that no one was – or rather someone wasn’t – paying attention to the group.
“He said I look bad every day.”
Renjun shrugged, pulling the granola bar from his teeth and speaking around the mouthful. “I mean, where’s the lie?” Renjun’s tone was questioning and Mark’s scowl deepened as the pair lifted their hands into a mocking fist bump.
Mark shoved his half eaten sandwich back into the wrap and placed it into his lunchbox, shoveling around to grapple with the other food there. He pulled out a dish of watermelon. Mark mumbled to himself and popped the Tupperware lid off. Renjun snorted beside him.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
Mark raised his eyebrows, turning to Renjun’s smirk. “At least I’m not a midget.”
“Right, because being an inch taller than him gives you a real advantage,” Yukhei piped in, an eyebrow quirking to the pouting boy as he straightened his back to tower over the table. Mark grimaced with a roll of his eyes.
“It’s something.”
Renjun snatched a piece of the cubed fruit and dodged the onslaught of Mark’s swats toward the thieving hands. “Really something to be proud of,” he mumbled sarcastically around the melon with a grin. Mark scowled at the mess in his mouth.
Mark peered toward the vibrant head of hair briefly, his eyes drifting to the pull of Donghyuck’s pout as he leaned closer across the table to his company. His dark eyes were squinted with mirth and Mark resisted the urge to smile with the pretty boy’s expression of whine. He turned away quickly with the warming of his stomach and glanced over the two boys beside him, nervously surveying where their gazes lay. Neither was focused on him.
With assurance, he turned back toward the bright boy that seemed to shout for all the attention in the room. Mark was captivated.
Mark had been captivated by Donghyuck since the boy had first dropped onto the seat beside him in their Biology class; he’d hummed a tune below his breath and tipped his head back to hang limply over the chair. The two had barely exchanged words since, working as seatmates for assignments and labs before their mumbled chatter dissolved into silence. Mark wasn’t sure if their lack of interaction made him grateful or spiteful.
Mark continued to watch as the boy’s sentence softened into a fit of giggles and he felt his mouth tilt slightly, his lips pulling into a small smile. The crease of Donghyuck’s eyes deepened with his laughter, his heart shaped smile wide and his mouth ajar with the shake of his shoulders. Mark watched him glow with the sun’s vibrancy.
The boy with tangerine hair sobered slightly, his nose scrunching with joy as he shook his head to the classmates that surrounded him and Mark suppressed the spark of jealousy that twisted his gut. He’d never deserved one of those grins but he felt himself wishing for one – wishing he could earn one.
His mouth straightened flat and he tilted his chin down, flicking his eyes to his lap and scratching his forearm harshly with thought. He flitted his eyes upward once more before freezing. His eyes widened.
A familiar pair of dark eyes stared back at him; heart shaped lips twisted into a soft smirk to accompany the quirk of his eyebrow. Mark scurried his gaze away, settling it over the paper Renjun’s finger rapidly scampered over as he spoke with Yukhei. Mark furrowed his brows at the equations, his temples burning as he could feel the boy’s gaze remained trained over him.
Posies bloomed over Mark’s cheeks and he felt the flush climb over his neck to dust the tips his ears. He lifted a hand to tug over the left one, working to rub away the apprehension that painted it rosy. His head dizzied and he exhaled heavily, his chest hammering as he’d been caught.
“Hey, Mark.”
Mark’s voice caught in his throat and his gaze shot back toward Donghyuck’s, the boy’s grin greeting him in a way that made his stomach dance uncomfortably. He hummed in nervous response, his hands tremoring for fear of his well-hidden truth being ousted.
“Could I have a watermelon?” Mark’s eyebrows shot up and he stared down accusatorily to the fruit, their vivid red holding a sudden unwelcome flirtatiousness. Mark lifted a hand and pointed an appendage to the Tupperware in question. Donghyuck’s guffaw returned and he squinted joyously to the silent elder. “Yes, that watermelon, Mark.”
With a suddenly shaky hand, Mark seized the dish and thrust it toward Donghyuck, holding it as still as possible across the table as the boy reached a hand forward. Donghyuck plucked a cube from the box and thrust it into mouth, grinning around the fruit. Mark swallowed harshly and pulled away, hastily wrenching his eyes from the boy’s wetted mouth. He was met with Yukhei’s raised eyebrows.
“Since when did you give away your watermelon?”
“Since when did you get flustered when boys flirted with you?”
Mark blanched and danced his eyes between his two friends. “I’m not flustered,” he chose to answer first.
“Right,” Renjun drawled and Mark scowled.
“And why’s he special that he gets watermelon?” Yukhei prompted once more, his brow lifting in scrutiny.
“I’m not close enough to say no – it’d be awkward,” he shrugged in feigned nonchalance, his practiced ease still rather shaky.
Yukhei and Renjun remained silent a moment, studying their friend in confusion and Mark swallowed, rolling his eyes toward them apprehensively. He cast his eyes behind Yukhei’s shoulder to distract himself from the heated gazes placed over him. His flush deepened with nerves.
Yukhei spoke up, “He’s in your class, isn’t he? That’s not strangers.”
“But it’s not close,” Mark spoke with exasperation – what seemed to be pointed toward their interrogation truly prompted by the fear of his transparency. “I’d just feel awkward refusing him when it’d come off as rude.”
“Doubtful but I don’t really care,” Renjun said, scoffing and turning back to the papers he’d scattered over the table. “I still need help on all this and it’s too much work to think about you being flustered right now.”
Mark rolled his eyes, tugging on his ear. “I wasn’t flustered.”
“You turned red.”
“Because I didn’t know what to say.”
Yukhei grinned, “Alright.”
Mark rolled his eyes and pulled his own piece of watermelon from the container, chewing on the fruit and casting his eyes downward to the table, and then toward the sheets Renjun had spread, and then to the table. He jumped slightly as a golden hand reached over his shoulder and into the Tupperware, hastily whipping his head around.
Donghyuck grinned from behind him, sliding the fruit into his mouth and backing away.
✁---
Mark swallowed harshly, parting his lips slightly to gulp shallow breaths whilst he kept his nose clogged. He pushed through the congested room with a sigh; his eyes pointed to the ceiling and he flinched away to avoid the inevitable brush of hands against his thigh. He inhaled through his nose.
The room smelled of a peculiar mix of locker rooms and sea brine, the strong scent of deodorizers and cologne mingling with the slick sweat that dripped over the nape of each neck. It was dark; dim lights flickering through the large living room turned dance floor and a bass thumping tune filtering deafeningly through the walls of the house.
Mark had never been there – he’d never been even near the neighborhood – and he couldn’t bring himself to care whose there it was. The house was large, the kitchen cluttered with empty and unopened alcohol, and whoever owned the house knew what they’d be getting themselves into when they threw the party. Thus, Mark didn’t pick up the crunched can he kicked below his feet.
He tapped the inside of his foot against the makeshift ball and kicked it continuously between the erratic feet of the strangers and classmates surrounding him. He’d tripped a few of the haphazardly dancing – if that was what they were aiming for – students and muttered apologies to the uncaring and oblivious intoxicated teenagers. They seemed to be used to tripping.
Mark wasn’t sure what was enjoyable about the mobbed room, the smell of heady alcohol and the cling of smoke that filtered below shut bathroom doors smothering as he pushed toward the edge of the crowd. His stomach was warm with the drinks that sat in his gut and he grimaced at the feel, his head pounding with the dehydration that accompanied the drinks he’d downed.
Mark pulled the thin cotton of his shirt from where it clung to him, sweat stickying his skin in the hot room. He pushed his jacket off his shoulders, basking in the slight cool that accompanied the removal of the extra layer. He pulled it back on properly, not trusting himself to hold it. Reaching the edge of the crowd, Mark hurried through the newly opened doorway, finding it to suddenly open into a tall foyer.
He stepped fully into the area, the newly sparse population greeting him with a temperature that plummeted suddenly from the constraints of the living room. He slumped against a wall and pulled his jacket down once more.
“Mark Lee,” he looked up with the familiar voice.
“Wong Kunhang.”
The dark haired boy stumbled slightly forward, a grin plastered over his mouth as he clung to Yukhei. Mark raised his eyebrows and laughed. “You alright?” he said.
The boy nodded rapidly as he neared, Yukhei studying him with his brows knit together as he gripped his forearms to steady his stumble forward. Mark had known Hendery since junior high, the two having been in the same advanced math placement, and Yukhei had been attached to the hip of the boy before even then.
Hendery hummed before he said, “The kitchen smells like Rum and Horchata; it’s nice.”
Mark raised his eyebrows and released a soft laugh. “I believe that’s called cinnamon and nuts to nonalcoholics.”
Yukhei shook his head with a smile toward Mark. “Technically it probably is Horchata and Rum since we're, well, here... so – he’s not wrong.”
Hendery nodded unsteadily once more and tipped forward. Yukhei grabbed his forearm to yank him upward, the boy resolving into a fit of giggles. Mark watched his long hair slip over his eyes, the boy tipping his chin to his chest as he swayed slightly. Yukhei grimaced down toward him.
“How long have you been here?” Hendery asked with his regained balance. His eyes were glossy in the dim light of the room and his words slurred. Mark nearly laughed aloud as he met Yukhei’s eye, the corners of his mouth turned deeply downward.
Mark wasn’t sure how long he’d been at the party – let alone how long he’d been wandering without looking for any of his friends. He’d dulled his thoughts with the burn of alcohol when he’d first arrived and then proceeded to wander aimlessly through the crowds – never looking to find his friends. The distraction of the blasted can that lay at his feet burned the backs of his eyes guiltily.
Mark shrugged. “Not too long.”
Mark wasn’t sure what he disliked of the parties his friends convinced him to attend. They were all examples of teen filth – drinking until sick and dancing until sick and doing God knows what until sick – but he found that he couldn’t bring himself to dislike or even shed a simple care for such. He just… didn’t like parties. And he knew he wasn’t forced to attend them – that it was doubtful that not being seen amongst a sea of sweaty bodies and groping would make anyone think you lesser. And yet – Mark still forced himself to show. And still Mark was miserable each time.
Hendery nodded, this time slower. “Having fun?”
Mark hummed, mimicking the black haired boy’s slow nod. “Yeah, it’s cool,” he fibbed. It wasn’t that Mark wanted to lie to his friends, or that he wanted his friends to think he enjoyed their ‘scene’, he just didn’t want them to see him any different. He didn’t want to be judged.
And so Mark told them he liked whatever they liked.
Hendery grinned, bouncing on his toes slightly before teetering into Yukhei. The elder boy grappled for a firm hold over him before sighing.
“I’d say it’s about time we force water into you,” he directed toward the younger under his breath, tucking his arm under the boy’s shoulders. Yukhei lifted a hand in dismissal to Mark and backed away, disappearing down a hallway and being engulfed by a heat of bodies. Mark looked to the front door.
It was pulled shut but Mark could see the cover of night through the tall windows. He pushed the door open and stepped through its frame, inhaling deeply as the bare skin of his neck came into contact with the crisp air of mid-October. Mark gulped the fresh air down to wash away the musk that drenched him from the heated air of the large house. It burnt his nose in its soothing temperature.
Mark bounded down the few steps of the porch before he dropped down, bending his elbows across his kneecaps. He tilted his head back and watched the clouds move over the blackened sky. They appeared a blue in the blanketing night, eclipsing the moon and starlight. Mark squinted through the tufts of blue to the few stars that peered through each break of clouds.
A sudden warmth enveloped his right side and Mark turned his head to study the body that dropped beside him. Skin of gold and orange hair greeted him. Donghyuck had his head tilted back as Mark’s had been moments prior, his dark eyes studying the mundane sky. Mark sat frozen.
An eye slanted to meet Mark’s wide gaze though Donghyuck’s chin remained pointed to the clouds. He quirked a brow to the boy.
“Hi?”
Donghyuck flicked his eyes back to the miniscule stars, ignoring the pleasantry. “I’m afraid the only sandwiches here have mustard.”
Mark scrunched his nose with the boy's words and tilted his head in confusion. “What?”
“You don’t like mustard. And I ate a sandwich and it had mustard.”
Mark nodded slowly, his brow still knit with confusion. Donghyuck settled him with a blank stare. “How’d you even know that?”
Donghyuck smirked. “You scrape it off all your sandwiches. I thought I’d warn you.”
Mark nose scrunched further. “Why do you know I scrape it off my sandwiches?”
Donghyuck raised his eyebrows, amusement flickering over his gaze. Mark was struck by the way he glittered in the dark, the orangey glow of the porch lights glinting off him. A smudge of dark, shimmery shadow smeared over the lids of his eyes, his eyelashes painted darker than what Mark had grown accustomed. His coppery skin dripped like honey in the dark and Mark swallowed harshly, ignoring the bronze hair that shone similarly.
"If you're allowed to stare so am I." Mark felt a flush burn over his cheekbones, staining his face red. “There’s no watermelon either,” Donghyuck continued, turning back to gaze at the horizon. Mark fidgeted with his hands over his knees.
“Alright.”
Donghyuck hummed.
Mark’s stomach seemed to have joined the steaming mass of jumbled limbs and messy hopping that filled the house, twisting and sending a nauseating tremor through him. The boy beside him was warm like the bodies of the house, his cheeks tinted red with the consumption of alcohol, and he seemed slick with sweat. Mark wondered if he was the type to dance.
Mark wondered if Donghyuck’s body glided smooth over the living room dancefloor, his movements all hips and wandering hands, or if he moved alongside the chaotic mess of gropes and jumping. His fingers twitched with a sudden urge to pull and twist the thin shirt of boy beside him. He clenched them into fists.
The silence that enveloped them heightened the thud of Mark’s heartbeat slamming into his chest and he found himself entranced by the sporadic and hasty rhythm. He wondered if the boy beside him could hear his nerves – if he could feel each pulse that wracked his frame harshly. Mark gulped, exhaling slowly to calm the apprehension of his body and the whirring of his dizzied mind.
Donghyuck shifted beside him, the warmth of the boy’s body seeming to increase as his arm began to press further into Mark’s own. His heart skipped a beat.
“Do you know which is better?”
Mark startled slightly as the boy spoke up, his voice breaking the hypnosis his heartbeat had pushed. Mark flicked his eyes to where the boy’s two hands held something – or two somethings. Mark studied the two granola bars, his eyes catching on the familiar wrapper of his favorite. He gestured to it with his pinkie.
“I like that one, it’s my favorite.”
Donghyuck hummed, turning his head to study the elder boy. He nodded his head once. “Alright, it’s a good thing I asked so I could give it to you then.”
Mark furrowed his brows as the boy lifted the hand that held the bar, reaching it forward to offer to him. He shook his head slightly, opening his mouth to refute before Donghyuck lifted a brow. Mark grabbed the snack from the boy’s outstretched hand tentatively, cupping it in his own lap. Donghyuck began to unwrap his own; the wrapper crinkling as he gingerly tore it from the sticky granola.
Mark squinted to the coppery haired boy, splitting the foil of his own bar and pulling it down. Donghyuck lifted the bar to his mouth, biting down and Mark jumped as he realized where his eyes had been trained, tearing them away from the boy’s lips to study the snack he opened. Donghyuck giggled beside him.
“How do you like the party?”
Mark shrugged, taking his own mouthful of the bar and glaring into the bulb of the porchlight. “I’m not much of a… party lover,” he glanced to the boy beside him, finding Donghyuck already studying him.
“Don’t you go to most?”
Mark continued to shrug, scrunching his mouth to the side in contemplation. “Yeah.”
“And yet, you don’t like them?”
Mark wasn’t sure why he was being honest – he never had been with any of his friends – but he let his mouth continue to slip, his shoulders continue to shrug. Donghyuck remained silent as Mark met his gaze in a hesitant stare, the question hanging between them. Mark tore his eyes away, mulling over the granola bar that crumbled in his lap.
“Not really. I sort of just show up and leave.”
Donghyuck hummed. His eyes never left Mark as he stood, brushing the crumbs from his thighs and letting his hands drop. Mark forced his eyes to remain trained away from the pair of legs just before his line of sight. He swallowed harshly to ignore the bile that pushed his voice hoarser.
“That sounds a bit disappointing.”
✁---