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Donghyuck is in shock.
To be perfectly honest, he probably hasn’t had enough life experiences to truly know what one feels like, but if he did, he’s guessing it would feel a lot like this: clammy hands, inability to move, head so full yet so empty at the same time.
It’s movie night on the fifth floor, and there are far too many people in the dorm than their limited floor space could handle. It was only a matter of time before the rest of their group was indoctrinated into the 127 tradition of Sunday night romcoms, and it’s because of this momentous occasion that no one had vetoed Jisung’s suggestion of watching About Time even though everyone has seen it before.
The living room is a tight fit, but they somehow make it work. Extra seats were made out of each other’s laps by Ten’s suggestion, and there’s a neat pile of Huangs on the carpet arranged on top of each other according to size.
Donghyuck himself spent most of the movie shrimped over the arm of the couch, but it wasn’t too bad. He’s always been a sucker for romance anyways, and he liked this movie enough to withstand a little discomfort.
That is, until the last scene rolled around and Mark started singing along to The Luckiest.
Donghyuck thinks it’s always nice to hear Mark sing. His voice can be a little rough around the edges, but that’s exactly what makes it sound so genuine. Tonight though, Mark’s pull on his heartstrings seem to be a little more aggressive than usual. It only gets worse when Mark meets his eyes from across the room—low crooning unceasing—when the main character starts peppering good morning kisses all over Rachel McAdam’s face.
And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face,
Now I see it every day
And I know
That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest
Suddenly, allowing himself to be flanked snugly between Johnny and an armrest seems like a terrible idea. Donghyuck can feel a tightening in his chest that his quick wit can’t reasonably explain. It’s like he’s having an epiphany, but about what, he has no fucking clue.
All he knows is that it’s consequential, earth-shattering, important. Something major shifted in the air just now and did somersaults over his pretty little head. He didn't even realize he’d stopped breathing until Mark’s gaze flitted back to the screen and air came rushing back into his lungs in a flood. One deluge right after the other.
The movie ends somewhere in between Donghyuck losing his mind and him trying to get his shit back together. He vaguely registers Johnny standing up and asking him if he’s ready to head back to the room, but he’s way too focused on something else to give a proper response.
Near the flatscreen is Chenle clowning Jisung for crying over the movie for the fifth fucking time! But next to them is Mark, head thrown back and unmoving from his end of the couch. His eyes are closed in a look of serenity, no doubt mulling over the lessons from the movie, and Donghyuck—lips tingling—can’t bring himself to look away.
When Mark opens his eyes again, a quiet understanding falls over Donghyuck like those space blankets they give out while they seat you at the back of an ambulance. Oh, he’s in shock alright—shock that his entire life would boil down to a jarring realization that all this time, all Donghyuck really wanted to do was kiss Mark Lee.
Suffice to say, he lowkey wants to die.
The younger members have scurried away in search of tissues, and in the silence of the living room, Donghyuck forces his limbs to crawl across the L-shaped couch, settling cautiously next to Mark. His heart is thundering loud in his chest, and his throat is coated in the thick soup of all his belated realizations.
“Hyung,” he starts, and then stops when he realizes he doesn’t even know what to say.
It’s almost embarrassing how nervous he is, because this is just Mark Lee. The same guy who had lettuce stuck in his braces the first time they met, the very same person he held in his arms that first Christmas night they spent in the dorms away from their families. This is Mark Lee—Donghyuck’s best friend of seven years, Donghyuck’s best friend forever after that.
And maybe it’s the heavy weight of that history tying his tongue into knots, preventing him from letting their friendship grow into something brighter, but it’s the fondness in Mark’s eyes—the quiet reassurance of you and me together, no matter what happens —that gives Donghyuck the heart to speak up again.
He’s still scared. He’s so fucking scared, but Mark always makes him brave.
“I’m going to try something, okay?” Donghyuck says slowly, eyes subconsciously trailing down to Mark’s lips. He can feel Mark follow his gaze down and back up in something almost sacrilegious, eyes meeting just in time for Donghyuck to see him give a small nod. “Can you close your eyes for me?”
The sides of Mark’s lips twitch ever so slightly in amusement—like he knows the extra step is useless but he’ll go along with it anyway—and it takes all of Donghyuck not to smack him and pass this whole charade off as another joke.
It would be too simple. He would just need to throw his head back in feigned nonchalance like he always does, cackling a throwaway, “Hyung, you’re so easy!” but he knows he won’t. Not when Mark lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering close in anticipation for whatever Donghyuck has in store for him, for them.
Donghyuck scoots a little closer, knees slotting themselves in the negative space between Mark’s thighs and leaning in ever so slightly.
Right now, his heart and half a nervous laughter are splitting the rent in his throat. Donghyuck knows he’s taking too much time when Mark’s hand blindly reaches out in search of his, fingers lacing together in a comforting gesture.
This is the grasp of a high-pitched, Hi I’m Lee Minhyung, nice to meet you! before Donghyuck squeezed his hand too hard to assert some dominance at age 13. This is the warmth of arms hugging him back just as tight when the clock finally hit midnight and all Donghyuck wanted to be was in Jeju.
This is Mark holding him through English interviews, unfamiliar cities, and the short prayerful seconds before being catapulted into the limelight of a concert stage. This is Mark telling him not to be afraid to take the plunge, because no matter what happens, he’ll be there to catch him.
So Donghyuck jumps—and the fall is so undeniably steep, but he realizes that Mark’s lips are the softest place to land.
His whole body leans into the gentle press of their lips—one beat and two—before Donghyuck decides this is where he wants to be for the rest of his life and kisses Mark for real. He sighs into the feeling of Mark sliding perfectly in between his lips, the kiss slow and tender as a hand cups the side of his face in a gentle caress.
Donghyuck finds that this is what he wants, everyday and all the time; when he wakes up in the morning, before he goes to bed, in all the Red Bull powered practices and gaming sessions in between. He knows there are limits to human proximity, but right now he’ll take all that he can reasonably get, drinking Mark in deeper until he’s drunk on spit slick euphoria and dizzy from the lack of air.
When they finally pull away, it’s by necessity and less so much by choice. Donghyuck is breathless and glassy eyed when he burrows himself contentedly in the crook of Mark’s shoulder, the edgier parts of his new home.
He feels more than he hears the rumble of Mark’s laugh when he says, “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now, Haechanie. That was tongue.”
Donghyuck is hardly embarrassed, he was just settling in. “Was it? I don’t remember,” he says, biting his bottom lip playfully. They’ve somehow pretzled themselves into a mess of appendages on the couch, and he’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be uncomfortable but it’s not. “We should try it again to double check.”
“Cheeky,” is all Mark says, smiling when Donghyuck nuzzles the side of his face purposefully. “I like that.”
“Enough to do something about it?” Donghyuck whispers, the quiet tone of his voice betraying a hope of something more. Mark catches it, of course. He always does.
The silence isn’t allowed to stew too long when Mark rearranges their limbs so that they’re both back upright, hands coming up so gently on either side of Donghyuck’s face as if cradling something precious. He looks into Donghyuck’s eyes and smiles—this devastating thing—and says, “Only if you’ll have me, Lee Donghyuck.”
And for the record, Donghyuck still thinks he’s in shock, but this time he feels like he’s gonna be just fine.