Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mark and Donghyuck have known each other for so many years, it can easily be considered forever. Mark still remembers their first meeting, a few days after he had moved into the house next to Donghyuck's with his parents. He can't exactly recall how Donghyuck looked or what they talked about. He's pretty sure he only has this memory, because Donghyuck used to have a pet bunny at the time, and Mark saw it through the fence between their houses. The first time they talked was through that very same fence, until finally Donghyuck's mother came over and asked Mark, if he wanted to play with Donghyuck on their side of it. Mark probably agreed only because he wanted to pet the bunny. It stuck, though — him knowing Donghyuck. Even when the bunny was gone and Donghyuck's siblings showed up instead.

They're best friends — that's what Mark says.

They're soulmates — that's what Donghyuck says.

Mark doesn't protest, because however they call it, it means the same thing to both of them. They're special. Both of them have an especially reserved place for one another. It doesn't matter how far apart they are or how many other people they hang out with or how long they don't see each other. That place is theirs to keep forever.

Mark isn't sure, if Donghyuck does the same, but Mark himself has always been looking at Donghyuck. It's the most natural thing to him.

He's always been looking, but something is a little different than usual now. Something is a tiny bit off, and Mark is frustrated, because he doesn't know what it is. He can't figure it out no matter how hard he tries. And that's because nothing's changed.

He and Donghyuck have always been together. They've grown out of their dumb, hyperactive child phase together. They've survived their turbulent teenage years together. They haven't fought with anyone as much as with each other. They live together now, when they're studying at university and not visiting their parents for Christmas.

Mark wonders, if that's what it is. Maybe being back home, fence between them, somehow makes him weird. But they were here last year as well, and it felt completely normal.

It's also not Donghyuck, because Donghyuck is the same as always, if slightly more mature now, slightly less defensive. He's still annoying, sometimes so obnoxious Mark wants to smack him. He's still fierce and unapologetic. Still so confident, full of this wonderful pride, and yet humble. He's still petty and cynical. Still the cleverest person Mark knows, so witty and so aware of it, it's sometimes frustrating. He's still so bright, bringing sunshine and good mood with him everywhere he goes. He's still Donghyuck Lee.

Mark absentmindedly watches his mother prepare batter for pancakes, thinking hard what changed, if it wasn't Donghyuck Lee.

Sure, recently Donghyuck hangs out a lot with this Sungchan dude that came out of nowhere ("Fucking Neverland," Chenle deadpanned, when Mark said that in his presence once. "I met him in uni, obviously."), and Mark spends more time with Yangyang and Jeno than with Donghyuck these days, but it's fine. They're still special to each other. It's cool.

It should be cool.

"Mark?"

He flinches and blinks quickly a few times to focus on his mother's face that is much closer than a second ago.

"I've been talking to you for the past minute," she says, frowning a bit and pressing her slender hand to his forehead. Mark feels ten again. "You okay?"

"I'm good, mom, I don't have a fever," he says, a bit irritated for some reason.

"Ah," his mother says, straightening and flipping a pancake on the frying pan expertly. Mark can feel himself salivate at the smell. "You're thinking!" his mother guesses. "That's all good, sweetheart, but don't tire yourself out."

"Are you calling me stupid?" Mark gasps theatrically.

"Of course not!" his mother exclaims. "That would suggest I'm stupid, too, right? If my own son is."

"That explanation was unnecessary," Mark mutters, pouting.

His mother giggles, and he can't sulk when she does that. It's almost like he's hearing himself.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asks, piling the fluffy pancakes on a plate.

"About what?" Mark asks.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, dude," his mother says, rolling her eyes.

"Not... yet," Mark says slowly.

"That's okay," his mother shrugs, placing a plate full of food in front of him and passing him the maple syrup. "I'm not going anywhere, so come to talk whenever you feel like it, yeah?"

"Sure," Mark agrees, that warm feeling he associates only with his parents expanding in his chest. "Thanks."

His mother winks at him.

Mark takes a break from thinking in order to stuff his face with pancakes.

•

"So you don't know what it is?" Johnny says thoughtfully.

Mark shakes his head, then nods, because he's not sure which reaction confirms it and which denies it in this case.

"Yeah, I don't," he ends up clarifying at Johnny's questioning, slightly amused look.

"Hmm," Johnny hums.

They're sitting in a cafe. It's after eleven. Johnny sips on his second Ice Americano of the day. Mark is shivering just from watching him drink it with the snow visible behind the window next to them. Johnny doesn't mind cold at all, though.

"Nothing's changed, right?" Johnny asks finally. "Hyuck is still the same as always. Your relationship is also the same."

"Yup." Mark nods, warming his hands around his cup containing a wonderfully steaming cappuccino, despite the rather high temperature of the inside of the cafe. "That's why I can't figure it out."

"Okay," Johnny says.

Last Christmas plays on the speakers, momentarily distracting them both. Thankfully, it's not loud enough to make theirs ears hurt, but they still spare a minute on complaining about being fed up with the song. Mark says it's still better than All I Want For Christmas Is You, Johnny disagrees. Mark knows it's only because Johnny likes to wail to Mariah Carey, so he forgives him that stance.

"Have you considered," Johnny gets back on track, "that it's you who's different?"

Mark blinks at him, startled for some unfathomable reason. It's a pretty obvious conclusion. He has no idea why he didn't thought of that.

"Me?" he asks anyway, quite stupidly.

Johnny grins, his whole face scrunching up with mirth. It's been a while since they last saw each other. Mark has missed him. It's still almost a miracle that Johnny had the time to meet up, and not in the city but here, in the suburbs. He's even going to eat lunch with Mark's family before he goes back to his apartment in downtown Chicago.

"Yes, you dumbass." Johnny laughs a little. "You. Maybe your feelings have changed? You're pretty bad at being aware of yourself."

Mark huffs in indignation.

"You know it's true, Markie," Johnny says, still unreasonably cheerful. "Just think about it from that angle, maybe you'll figure it out."

"Fine," Mark mutters.

"Great!" Johnny finishes his caffeinated ice in one huge gulp. "You're paying, right?"

"What?" Mark squawks. "Why?"

"Isn't that how it works? The one who asks for advice pays and the one who gives it gets a free coffee?" Johnny winks at him and then thinks about it, adds, "At least, I'm pretty sure I saw something like that in Pirates of the Caribbean."

"You drank two!" Mark exclaims. "And that was about making a proposition after waking someone up! To counter bad luck! And also alcohol, not coffee."

Johnny shrugs on his jacket and stands up.

"We can do that next time, then," he says happily. "Hurry up, your mom texted me twice already."

Mark spends another few seconds gaping at him in scandal. Johnny raises his eyebrows, somehow managing to say mockingly, "Well?" without even opening his mouth.

Mark just sighs and takes out his wallet.

"That's a good boy!" Johnny praises and chuckles like lunatic, when Mark flips him off on his way to the counter.

•

"It's Christmas Eve," Donghyuck says pointedly.

"Yes, I am aware," Mark responds just as pointedly.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

It is Christmas Eve. Mark's parents asked, if he wanted to spend the evening with them, watching TV and drinking mulled wine. Mark had spent every evening with them since he'd come home for the Christmas break, though (except for those few days when he hung out with Donghyuck, because they apparently couldn't get enough even after the whole semester in one apartment), so he told them to have a date and slipped out of the house. Donghyuck opened the door in a hoodie and basketball shorts, a tub of ice cream under his arm and a spoon in his mouth, and here they are.

"Why are you here on Christmas Eve?" Donghyuck takes the spoon out just to ask and pops it right back into his mouth. He shivers a little, which is no surprise considering his legs are mostly bare.

"I just wanted to give you your present, since we probably won't see each other tomorrow, asshole," Mark mutters.

Donghyuck grins around his spoon. Then he takes it, scoops up some of the ice cream and shoves it into Mark's mouth.

"In that case, do come in," he says, while Mark splutters and gags.

"You're not hanging out with your family?" Mark chokes out, grabbing the box containing Donghyuck's present with one hand awkwardly, so that he can get rid of the spoon.

He thrusts it at Donghyuck, who only laughs and bites down on it without a preamble. It makes Mark pause, and then he pauses again to wonder why exactly that made him pause. He comes up with nothing.

Donghyuck's family usually attends a Christmas Eve party thrown by one of his aunts, but they decided to spend the holidays quietly in their own company this year.

"Nah, they're watching some animated movie," Donghyuck waves his hand carelessly.

"And you're not?" Mark asks in surprise.

Donghyuck loves animated films.

"Not really in the mood," Donghyuck says. He leans against the wall, waiting for Mark to take off his jacket and peach colored sneakers. It's started to snow earlier in the day, but Mark couldn't be bothered to wear his boots just for a trip next door. "I was just reading," Donghyuck adds.

Mark straightens and frowns at him.

"You sure it's okay for me to come in, then?"

"Yeah." Donghyuck shrugs. "It's cool. I'm getting a present, after all."

He's smirking now, and Mark narrows his eyes at him in irritation. Donghyuck stops supporting himself on the wall and moves towards the living room, not waiting for Mark. He knows Mark will follow. Mark always does.

They go upstairs after Mark greets Donghyuck's family and wishes them a Merry Christmas. Donghyuck lets him into his room and flops down on the bed, ice cream still held firmly under his arm.

"You're gonna have to put it away, if you wanna open this," Mark tells him.

Donghyuck seems to consider that very seriously, which makes Mark giggle. Finally, he eats another spoonful and gives the ice cream to Mark in exchange for the present. He pounces on it right away, ripping the bright red paper into shreds, his eyes blazing. It's a little scary, to be honest. Mark watches him fondly. He made sure to use an appropriately large amount of layers and duct tape to make it a challenge. Donghyuck loves a challenge.

It takes him way less time than Mark hoped for. He triumphantly opens the box. Mark turns his gaze away, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

"These are Converse," Donghyuck says.

Mark can't read any distinct emotion in his voice.

"Yup," he says, popping the p.

"The same as yours," Donghyuck adds.

"Yup," Mark confirms again.

He feels awkward now. Maybe this wasn't the best idea for a present.

"Why these colors?" Donghyuck asks.

Mark chances a glance. Donghyuck has taken the sneakers out of the box and is turning them this way and that, looking at them closely.

"They're uh, almost bisexual?" Mark says. "And shoes in two different colors are unique. And also a bit scandalous. So I thought they'd suit you."

Donghyuck pauses his assessment and looks up at him. Then he smiles, his eyes crinkling in that absolutely charming way, which can enchant even the grumpiest of the grumpiest.

"I like that reasoning," he says. "Thanks, hyung," he adds, in Korean now. They rarely speak Korean anymore, so it always sounds different. Special.

Mark flushes, for whatever reason. His ears heat up ridiculously, and he has to stop looking at Donghyuck again.

"Aww, are you shy?" Donghyuck coos. "We're officially those people who wear matching stuff now!"

Mark scoffs and mutters half-hearted excuses under his breath. He didn't even consider that, he just thought Donghyuck would look good in the sneakers.

Donghyuck doesn't pay him any mind. He springs up from the bed and walks to his closet.

"What are you doing?" Mark asks, because he's curious, and because he wants to change the subject more than anything.

Donghyuck lets his basketball shorts slip to the floor, and Mark turns away again at the sight of his tan thighs, and he has no idea why. He's seen them countless times.

"We're going on a walk," Donghyuck informs him.

"Right now?" Mark asks, looking out the window.

The snow is still falling slowly, and Mark suspects his sneakers might end up being the cause of his death. He could go back home to grab another pair of shoes, of course, but that would be too easy.

"I need to try out my present," Donghyuck says.

Which means that in the worst case scenario, they'll both die a very stupid death. That prospect is sufficient to convince Mark to do it.

Donghyuck puts on the warmest, fluffiest sweater he owns (Mark knows that, because Donghyuck let him borrow it once), jeans, and even digs out a pair of gloves out of some deep corner of his closet. Mark hates wearing gloves, but it's more important to Donghyuck to protect his hands from cold than care about the sensation of something covering them.

They go back downstairs. Donghyuck's sister notices and runs over to them, very obviously hiding something behind her back. She coaxes Donghyuck to close his eyes and lean down. Mark watches, stupidly endeared, as she places a Santa hat on Donghyuck's head. Donghyuck grabs it, so that it doesn't slide off, and makes a show of feeling it up to "guess" what it is.

"You think you'll get a present from me, if you make me Santa?" he asks teasingly. He grabs his sister and spins her around. She squeals in excitement. "Huh?! You little gremlin? I won't! Your present is me being here and putting up with you for two whole weeks!"

"No!" she protests, tugging on Donghyuck's sleeve once he lets her down. "That doesn't count, you don't spend money on that!"

Mark snorts. They're siblings alright.

Donghyuck laughs despite himself and then starts tickling her until she runs away, screeching.

"Shh, your brother is sleeping!" Donghyuck's mother whisper-shouts at her from the living room.

"It wasn't me, it was oppa!" Donghyuck's sister protests indignantly, switching to her other native language.

It's a weird mix, but Mark is used to it. It's similar to his family's situation, after all.

"Shh!" is all Donghyuck's mother says in response.

Donghyuck slips on his jacket, Mark puts on his own Converse, and they're out the door with Donghyuck's quick yell informing his parents that he's going to be back soon.

It's freezing. Mark knew that, but his body managed to forget the sensation during those few minutes spent sitting on Donghyuck's floor. His thighs get numb almost immediately. He can't complain, though, not when Donghyuck does all sorts of silly things that probably fall into the category of "trying out" his new shoes. He skips around, spins on his heel, slides on the snow covered pavement, dances a rather complicated sequence. Mark walks next to him, half fearing for Donghyuck's life, half for his own. It's pointless, though. To fear for Donghyuck. Donghyuck looks seconds away from flying, it's basically impossible to imagine him falling on his ass or face with how gracefully and surely he moves on the slippery surface. Mark feels like he himself might fall on his ass just carefully walking.

Donghyuck grabs his hand, swings their joined arms back and forth. He looks silly in his Santa hat, silly and joyful and bright. It's dark out already, but that's more than fine, when you have Donghyuck Lee by your side.

They walk in silence, Donghyuck humming a song under his breath. Mark doesn't even mind the feeling of the glove on Donghyuck's hand. They reach the park. When they were kids, they used to have snowball battles here. The snow has almost covered all greenery. Grass still sticks out of it here and there, but it's going to be gone soon. The lampposts used to be orange, Mark remembers that clearly. They made the area feel magical in winter. They've been replaced with white ones, which has a charm as well, Mark supposes. He's just a sentimental dude and liked the orange light better.

All in all, it's a pretty subtle change, but it's just not the same anymore. Exactly like in Donghyuck's case. The difference is, here Mark knows the cause.

Donghyuck glances at him, and then his lips stretch into a grin that Mark knows from experience means trouble. He's mostly resigned to it at this point. Donghyuck wordlessly pulls on his arm and runs off the path, into the freshly piled snow. Mark realizes what's coming half a second before he's falling. The world tips violently to one side, the ground meets him in a less than gentle collision, and Donghyuck's whole weight pins him to it right after, punching the air out of his lungs. Donghyuck is laughing in delight, as Mark wheezes, trying to get used to the conflicting sensations of cold snow underneath him and warm Donghyuck on him.

"You're horrible," Mark informs him once he can talk again. "Give the shoes back."

"No take backs~" Donghyuck sings right into his ear.

Mark winces at the volume.

Donghyuck wiggles around a bit just to annoy him further, but then finally rolls off of him onto his back. He raises his legs, his feet dangling over him, the sneakers already wet from snow in some places. They really suit him, Mark thinks. He raises his legs as well. Donghyuck knocks one of his feet into one of Mark's playfully.

"They're really cool," Donghyuck says quietly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Mark answers softly.

He turns his head to look at Donghyuck's face. The Santa hat has slipped off sometime during the rolling around, and Donghyuck's hair glitters with tiny pieces of the falling snow, curling on his forehead. Donghyuck is smiling, but it's not the devilish grin from before. It's gentle and quiet, genuine happiness. As Mark stares at him unabashedly, Donghyuck looks at him, too.

And Mark suddenly realizes.

He's tried very hard to think the past few days. He couldn't get a break from all the vague, unclear theories of what could have changed between him and Donghyuck. He didn't come to any conclusions.

But now- now he understands. Johnny's words echo in his head, and Mark gets it. His feelings. Of course it's his goddamn feelings.

He has always been looking at Donghyuck, that hasn't changed. What he sees might be exactly the same, but how he sees it is so drastically different, so drastically more, that Mark feels a little sick at the rapid acceleration.

"Mark?" Donghyuck asks.

Mark blinks. Once, twice.

They're still lying on the snow, which is also falling from the sky just as slowly as a second ago, but Mark feels like ages have passed between one moment and the next. So many things just clicked into place in his brain, and so many worries popped out, it doesn't seem to be the same reality anymore.

"Yeah," Mark says very slowly. "Sorry."

"You okay?" Donghyuck frowns a little.

Their legs aren't in the air anymore, and Mark isn't sure when that changed.

"Yeah," Mark says again. "I'm fine. I mean," he tries to find something he could say that would sound natural, "I can't feel my ass."

Donghyuck snorts and then gets on his feet.

"Yeah, we don't want your weak ass to get sick on Christmas."

Mark lets himself be pulled up, until he's somewhat standing.

"Seriously, what's with you?" Donghyuck asks.

I think I'm in love with you, Mark thinks. It sounds ridiculous even in his own head.

"Nothing," he says.

Donghyuck is clearly suspicious, but he doesn't try to pry it out of him, which means Mark doesn't look too good. Donghyuck barely ever leaves him alone, when Mark isn't telling him something.

"Let's go back," Donghyuck says.

He doesn't hold Mark's hand now, which is a good thing, honestly. Mark's brain is already so full, it's almost spilling out. The feeling of Donghyuck's hand, even through the glove, would probably make him break down right there, in the middle of the park, where they used to play as kids.

Mark doesn't remember the walk back at all. He only wakes up, when they're in front of Donghyuck's house.

"Well, uh, Merry Christmas," he mumbles, and it's awkward and weird even to his own ears.

"What are you doing?" Donghyuck asks.

Mark stares at him.

"What?"

"You're staying over, right?" Donghyuck tells him, like it's obvious.

"I am?" Mark asks dumbly, but he really can't be held accountable for what he's saying right now.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and pushes him through the gate and then into the house.

"Yes, you are, you idiot, I still didn't give you your present."

Mark kind of just didn't consider the possibility that Donghyuck might have a present for him, too. He's too dazed to protest, so he quickly finds himself untying his sneakers in Donghyuck's hallway. They look nice next to Donghyuck's new ones. Like they belong there. Mark doesn't know what he's thinking anymore.

Donghyuck's family have probably gone to sleep already, because the house is quiet and mostly dark. They silently walk upstairs. Donghyuck pulls out his phone and types something on the way.

"I texted your mom that you're staying," he says once the door to his room closes behind them.

"Thanks," Mark says, because that seems the most fitting.

Donghyuck quirks an eyebrow at him, and it's clear he's trying to decipher what's going on in Mark's head. He's usually good at that. Knows what Mark's feeling before Mark himself does. This is a special case, though. Mark has never felt like this before, and Donghyuck's analysis seems to be unsuccessful.

He walks up to his closet and pulls out some clothes for them to change into. Mark mechanically takes off the soaked hoodie and slips into Donghyuck's sweatshirt. It smells like Donghyuck, which- obviously it does, but Mark wasn't prepared for it anyway. The smell used to be comforting. Something Mark associated with coming home. Right now, it still is, but it also sets his nerves on fire.

Donghyuck has already adjusted by the time Mark is dressed and dry again. He's good at that - finding himself in any given situation. Mark is in a trance of sorts, overwhelmed by what Donghyuck's scent is making him feel. Donghyuck manhandles him easily. First, he pushes him down on the bed, then crouches to slip fuzzy socks on his feet to warm them up, then wraps him up in a blanket and finally leaves him be. Mark sits, staring into space in a permanently stunned state.

"Mark," Donghyuck says suddenly.

Mark blinks a few times in quick succession, refocusing on Donghyuck's face that is right in his face without a single warning. He leans back immediately, and Donghyuck frowns.

"Sorry," he says, straightening from his lean.

Mark shakes his head, his throat squeezing with abrupt guilt. Initially, it's because he made Donghyuck apologize. Donghyuck rarely ever does that, and Mark is sure he hurt his feelings, even if only a little bit. He never avoids Donghyuck. He pushes him away sometimes, yes, when Donghyuck is being too much, but he doesn't avoid his touch.

But then, Mark realizes the guilt runs much deeper than that. He knows what's changed now, he might actually be in love with Donghyuck, and that means he betrayed them. He betrayed their friendship, their bond, the special place they've always held open only for each other. It makes him feel miserable.

"Do you want your present?" Donghyuck asks.

He seems a bit uncertain, and that's awful. Donghyuck's confidence is one of his most important personality traits. Mark swallows the acid in his throat and nods.

Donghyuck considers him for a second more, and then flicks his forehead. Mark squeaks and hisses a curse, glaring at him. A small grin appears on Donghyuck's face. It's a little easier to breathe.

Donghyuck kneels on the floor to reach under his bed and pulls out a nicely wrapped box. Mark pushes away all complicated, depressing thoughts to focus on this and nothing else.

Donghyuck passes him the box and sits on the floor, leaning back on his hands. He's wearing a big, soft hoodie, his hair still curled up from the moisture of the outside. Mark looks at him for a moment and thinks how pretty he is. It's not the first time he's ever thought that. Donghyuck is, after all, undeniably pretty. It is, however, the first time Mark has thought it like this: "Holy shit, he's so pretty, I wanna touch him." Mark doesn't want to touch Donghyuck in any sexual way, though. His brain screeches to an abrupt halt, if he as much as glances at Donghyuck's legs, which aren't even bare anymore, for fuck's sake. No, Mark just wants Donghyuck close, so he can feel the soft skin of his cheeks under his fingertips and maybe let Donghyuck's hair tickle his face. It's a sappy and romantic itch Mark has never experienced before in his life.

He looks back down at the present in his lap. It's easier to unwrap than the one Mark gave Donghyuck. Mark opens the box, anticipation distracting him from his horrible newfound feelings.

He takes one look inside and immediately raises his head to glower at Donghyuck. Donghyuck snickers.

"Merry Christmas!" he exclaims, spreading his arms grandly.

Mark takes out the ketchup and throws it at his head. Donghyuck catches it easily and laughs loudly and obnoxiously now, rolling around on the floor. Mark is about to tell him to give the sneakers back for the second time, but then he notices ketchup isn't the only thing that was in the box. He pulls out the fluffy fabric and lets it unravel. It's a blanket. A warm, blue blanket with sleeves.

"I know you get cold easily," Donghyuck says softly.

Mark can't take the expression on his face, so he hides his own in the blanket, feeling the material.

"Thanks, Hyuckie," he mumbles.

Donghyuck only hums. They go to the bathroom to brush their teeth and then slip into Donghyuck's bed, and it's like every other sleepover they've ever had, but it's also nothing like that. Donghyuck falls asleep first, because Mark is overthinking, and when Donghyuck is asleep, he hugs the closest thing to himself and sticks to it like a very nicely smelling octopus. Which means Mark won't be sleeping tonight. He can't even move around too much, because he doesn't want Donghyuck to be uncomfortable, or worse — to wake up.

Soon, it becomes too much. Mark carefully gets out of Donghyuck's embrace, grabs his new blanket, the ketchup and his phone, and tiptoes out of the room, his heart pounding somewhere in his ears. He feels sick.

The clothes he wore are still wet, hanging sadly in the bathroom, and it doesn't matter much. He'll just get them back tomorrow. For once, he doesn't feel the cold, when he steps out in his grossly damp sneakers. The blanket protects him from the sharp wind somewhat, but he has spiraled so much by now, that it wouldn't even matter, if he was just in Donghyuck's sweatshirt and nothing else.

He doesn't want to go home. He's too restless, too itchy, too stretched inside to fit comfortably into his own skin. He walks around and thinks and thinks and thinks, until it all gets even more jumbled up. The only thing he's sure of in the end is that he's always loved Donghyuck with the same heart, but the nature of that love has changed somewhere on the way. His heart simply fucked up. He has no idea what he should do now.

•

Mark's Christmas morning starts with pain. This time, it's not any sort of emotional anguish, though. It's mostly just muscle ache that spreads through his whole body, and needles in his throat. He doesn't know why he's awake, until the door opens, and his mother peeks inside.

"Mark?" she asks with clear concern in her voice.

Mark only groans in response.

"My god, son, what's wrong?!" His mother enters the room fully now, approaching him in quick steps. "Are you— Mark Lee, did you sleep under this damp blanket?!"

Mark looks down at himself, confused. Blanket? No, when he came back home, he definitely got on the bed and—

And rolled himself into the blanket with sleeves he got from Donghyuck, which must have gotten wet to some degree, considering the snow that have been falling constantly last night.

His mother presses her hand to his forehead, just like she did those few days ago in the kitchen.

"No temperature at least," she mutters. "Where does it hurt?"

Mark opens his dry mouth and croaks horribly, "Everywhere."

"It's probably just a cold," his mother says, a deep crease forming between her eyebrows. Mark hates himself for putting it there. He already hates himself for many other things currently, so that doesn't make much of a difference, at least. "Get out of this blanket already, I need to wash it! And take a warm bath! I'll find you some medicine, so come down once you're done. Prepare to be made fun of by your father, though," she warns teasingly. "To get sick on Christmas, seriously!" she huffs under her breath, balling up the blanket into one misshapen armful.

Mark sits up, steadying himself by pressing a hand to his painfully pulsing head. He shivers, now blanket-less and still in Donghyuck's sweatshirt.

"Ah," his mother pauses in the door, "Hyuckie was here a while ago. I told him you're still sleeping, but he looked, well, pretty pissed off. Did you have a fight? On Christmas Eve?"

"No, we're," Mark starts, but doesn't finish. They're not okay, after all. And Mark slipped out of the house without letting Donghyuck know about that fact. Donghyuck must have been confused as hell, and he hates being confused. Mark tries to remember, if he locked the door after himself. He's pretty sure he held the loose brick the key is hidden under in his hand at some point. It must be fine. If it wasn't, Donghyuck would tell on him right away, while talking to Mark's mother. So it's only their personal issues that are left.

"We'll talk about it later," his mother says in that voice that is absolutely final and without a shred of space for any protests. "Bath. Now."

As Mark soaks in the warm water, he wonders if drowning is really as much of a horrible death as they say.

His father makes fun of him as foretold. Mark doesn't feel quite so miserable physically after warming up in the tub, but mental misery quickly reminds him of itself instead. It's a Christmas morning like all the other Christmas mornings in Mark's life, and yet he can't remember ever feeling so shitty. He takes the medicine his mother gives him and participates in opening presents like every year, but he's just not into it at all.

Mark gets a new guitar. His first thought is: "Sweet, Hyuck is gonna be so hyped for our jam sessions!". Then he remembers, and his excitement diminishes.

"I'm sorry," he tells his parents. "I really love it. Thank you, guys. I just, like, today is kinda... not that great."

They understand, because of course they do. Mark wants to cry a little bit just thinking what incredible parents he has.

"Wanna talk about it?" his father asks a bit awkwardly.

Mark inherited that awkwardness from him.

He leans back against the couch, nursing the ginger tea his mother pushed into his hand, the guitar standing next to him. He feels slightly better when it's there.

"Sit on the couch first, the floor is too cold, you're gonna make it worse," his mother cuts in before he can open his mouth.

He doesn't feel like arguing, so he grabs the guitar and hoists himself up along with it, half hugging it, half leaning on it. His parents get up as well, wrapping paper strewn all over the room at their feet. His mother sits next to him on the couch, her husband on the armchair on her other side.

Mark takes a deep breath, but it doesn't do jack shit, and he ends up with his face hidden in his hands.

"I'm just a horrible person," he admits.

"What?" his father asks incredulously.

There is a quiet thump and a pained hiss.

"Why do you think that?" his mother asks patiently, as his father curses under his breath and massages his abused shin.

Mark wants to laugh at their antics, but he can't bring himself to.

"It's... complicated," he mumbles.

"Like most things in life," his father offers, which gets him another kick.

"Remember when I told you I don't want to label myself?" Mark asks, still into his hands. "Like, y'know, sexually?"

"Yeah?" his father says unsurely.

"Did that change?" his mother asks.

"Not really, no," Mark shakes his head, "but what if I, uh, liked a dude?"

"What if you liked a dude," his father says, confused now. "Is that like, a big revelation or something?"

God, Mark loves him so much for that.

"Sweetheart, why are you asking us about it?" his mother sighs. "It's you liking a dude, not us."

"I mean, you like a dude, too, right?" his father points out playfully.

"Oh," his mother says very evenly. "Yeah. I guess."

"You guess?!"

Mark raises his head, grinning despite himself.

"Do you like a dude?" his mother asks, completely ignoring her husband's spluttering, her eyes sparkling. "Do I know him?"

"That's… classified information," Mark says haltingly.

It's better not to give anyone any details for now, he thinks.

"Do you think you're a horrible person because you like a dude?" his father questions.

Mark bristles.

"Of course not! There is nothing wrong with liking a dude!"

"Yeah, we know, but what's the problem then?"

Mark pauses. The silence stretches for quite a while.

"Look," Mark's mother finally says, "we won't give you any advice, because we've never been in the same situation. Straight people, y'know? So if this problem of yours that makes you so upset is connected to that, maybe talk to someone who will know what you mean?"

Mark tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"Like who?"

His mother rolls her eyes.

"Don't you have some gay friends who are married?"

Mark straightens, knocking his guitar on accident and almost sending it to the floor. He hastily saves the situation and then puts the guitar carefully to the side, so that he can hug his mother tightly. He would have never thought of that himself.

"That's why relationships can be great," his father says dramatically. "If you don't have enough brain cells yourself, you can depend on your partner's."

"Oh, so that's why you still keep me around, huh," his mother muses, slowly reaching for the guitar.

His father notices and books it, his mother laughing after him, her hand smoothing down Mark's hair in silent support.

•

Donghyuck calls and texts him constantly, understandably confused and angry, but Mark doesn't answer. He spends the next three days recovering from his cold, which took a turn for the worse after Christmas morning. He asked his mother not to let Donghyuck in if he shows up, and Donghyuck stopped trying to barge in after the seventh time. Of course, that doesn't mean Mark can have some peace. First of all, his brain doesn't let him. Second of all, Donghyuck sent all of their mutual friends after him.

He knew getting close to Yangyang would come back to bite him in the ass.

"What the hell, dude?" Yangyang asks through the videocall, lounging on his bed and munching on some chips. "We were supposed to play PUBG last night and he spent the whole evening complaining about you instead. You've never fought seriously once in the entire time I've known you."

"We're not fighting," Mark says, sighing heavily.

"Then what's going on?" Yangyang asks. "Oh, Jeno's calling, I'm gonna add him here." Jeno pops up on the screen next to Yangyang. "Hey, man! What's up?"

"Perfect, you're here, too," Jeno says in lieu of a greeting, addressing Mark. "Dude, Hyuck is driving me nuts, do something!"

He probably called Yangyang just to complain about Mark. Mark rolls his eyes.

"I can't yet," he mumbles, turning away from Yangyang's curious and slightly judging gaze and Jeno's pleading and very judging gaze.

"What do you mean you can't yet?" Yangyang asks. He doesn't sound exasperated or confused, but rather suspicious, which makes Mark want to end the call as soon as possible.

"It's, uh, like, complicated," he says quickly.

Jeno blinks at him in confusion.

"Complicated? I'd get it, if it was Hyuck's doing, 'cause the dude is hella complicated, but he told me you started acting weird without any reason! What's going on?"

Mark's eyes sting without any warning, and he blinks quickly to hide it. It would be a disaster, if he started crying now.

"Leave it, Jeno," Yangyang says suddenly.

Mark looks at him in surprise. Jeno tilts his head to the side with a frown.

"Huh?" he voices. "Why?"

Yangyang pops another chip into his mouth and says, "Something tells me you should talk to Taeyong, Mark."

Mark stills, staring at him in shock. Yangyang knows. And even if he's not certain, he suspects it. It shouldn't come as much of a surprise, Yangyang is the most perceptive person Mark knows.

"Yo, dude, relax," Yangyang laughs, "it's cool. Figure it out soon, though, your drama is annoying and I wanna play PUBG."

Of course that's the most important thing to Yangyang.

"Yeah, figure it out, I can't live like this!" Jeno whines again. "Sungchan thinks it's funny, but I have enough on my plate with Jaemin already."

Mark's mood immediately sours at the mention of Sungchan.

"Jaemin?" Yangyang asks. "What's up with him?"

Jeno waves his hand impatiently.

"He's the same as usual, but that's already plenty."

Yangyang giggles at that.

"You're right," Mark says abruptly.

"Of course I am!" Yangyang confirms, then considers that. "About what?"

"About me talking to Taeyong," Mark says, rolling his eyes.

"Right!" Yangyang exclaims. "Yes!"

"I think I'm gonna go now, actually," Mark says.

"And that will make Hyuck less murderous and annoying how?" Jeno asks.

"If I'm right," Yangyang says nonchalantly, "you'll see very soon."

It sounds a little ominous. Mark tries not to think about the unavoidable confrontation with Donghyuck that awaits him in the near future.

"Why do you sound like a spirit medium on regional television?" Jeno groans.

Yangyang flips him off. Mark sighs, but he can't not feel fond of his dumb friends.

"I'm going now!" he yells so that they hear him through the bickering that broke out after Jeno's comment.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeno dismisses.

Mark doesn't get offended at that lack of a proper send-off. They talk all the time in their group chat anyway. Jeno will probably be the first one to ask how it went.

"Go and fix it, you beautiful idiot," Yangyang tells Mark with a truly disgusting grin.

Mark grimaces and exits the call without as much as a bye.

He's so restless, he's dressed and on a bus before he can even think of letting Taeyong know he's going to visit them. It should be fine, though, Taeyong and Dongyoung didn't have any plans to go anywhere for Christmas, so they're likely to be home. Besides, Mark is already on his way. If they're not there, he can just go hang out in the apartment he shares with Donghyuck, Renjun and Lucas for college. It's empty now, with all of them being back home for Christmas.

The bus ride takes more than an hour. Mark listens to music and watches the changing scenery through a window he has to wipe off every few minutes, because it keep fogging up. The suburbs all look mostly the same; only houses and stores and parks and roads, everything covered with a layer of snow thick enough to sip colors out of the world. Until it gets dark, that is. Then, colors come back suddenly in the form of Christmas lights hanging from roofs and windows, illuminating other decorations strewn all over the lawns.
Once the bus enters the city, though, the atmosphere is different. Less snow, more cars, more people, apartment blocks and urgency instead of sleepiness. Mark shakes off his daze a little; lazing around at home made him forget what downtown Chicago is like.

He gets off at a stop and has to walk a few more minutes. Even the temperature is a little higher here thanks to the tall buildings. The wind is still present, though, as usual. It gets under Mark's collar and makes him raise his shoulders protectively. He enters a convenience store right next to Taeyong and Dongyoung's apartment block at the last minute, figuring he should at least get them something, if he's barging into their home unannounced.

Taeyong opens the door fairly quickly and his eyes widen upon seeing Mark standing there, probably looking like a kicked puppy.

"Mark?!" Taeyong exclaims. "Were you coming today- Doie! Did you invite Mark today?"

"What?" comes Dongyoung's voice from one of the rooms. "Mark?"

Mark winces.

"Sorry, I should have called you first, I just- um, well, I really need to talk to you. But if you're busy, I can go, it's not a big deal, honest—"

"Mark's here?" Dongyoung's head pops out from the kitchen, and when he sees Mark, the rest of him shows up, too. "Markie!"

"Hi," Mark says sheepishly.

"Just get inside first, you're shaking," Taeyong nags, pulling him through the door and untangling the scarf from around his neck. "Are you wearing sneakers in this weather? Mark, you have to dress warmly! What if you get sick?"

Mark promptly sneezes.

"Actually, I already had a cold," he admits.

Taeyong puts his hands on his hips and narrows his eyes. Mark looks down at his feet. It's like facing his mother's exasperated concern all over again.

"Seriously, what do I do with you kids." Taeyong sighs and strips Mark off of his backup jacket, which is not as warm as the one Mark left at Donghyuck's place.
He really didn't want to go back for that one, though.

Taeyong leads him to the living room with a firm grip on his shoulders.

"What's that?" Dongyoung asks, pointing at the bag in Mark's hand.

"Oh, right!" Mark remembers, passing it over to Dongyoung. "It's wine. A pretty cheap kind, sorry."

"Wine is wine," Dongyoung says wisely, patting Mark's shoulder in thanks.

Mark laughs a little.

"Right. Merry Christmas, then, I guess."

Taeyong sits him down on the couch and wraps him up in a huge blanket until Mark can barely move.

"There!" Taeyong huffs, patting around to make sure the blanket is suffocating enough for his liking. Then he runs his long, delicate fingers through Mark's hair, and Mark feels like crying for the second time that day. "You can tell us what happened, but first you'll drink some cocoa."

Mark buries himself deeper into the blanket.

"With marshmallows?" he asks quietly.

Taeyong laughs very softly.

"Yes, baby, with marshmallows," he says.

Mark flushes at the endearment.

Dongyoung sits down next to him, trying to open the wine.

"Cocoa," he scoffs under his breath, and Mark snickers. "Who needs cocoa when you have wine."

"Both of those things are crucial in life!" Taeyong yells from the kitchen. "Do you want something to eat, Mark?"

Mark's stomach remembers he only ate breakfast today and growls right on cue, making Mark flush again.

"He does!" Dongyoung yells back for him, laughing at the sound.

Before Mark can begin talking about what he came to talk about, he's given pasta with chicken, cocoa, ice cream, wine and a huge stuffed polar bear to hug. Taeyong makes sure that he's securely wrapped in the blanket four times.

"Ah, you wanted to talk about something, right?" he remembers finally.

Mark's mood takes a plunge into the familiar by now pit of despair in a millisecond.

"I think I'm a horrible person," he mumbles.

Dongyoung blinks at him dumbly.

"What."

Mark almost smiles at the similarity between Dongyoung's and his father's responses to the same statement.

"Just tell us what's going on, Mark," Taeyong says gently.

So Mark does. He tells them what's been going on in his brain these past few days, how he betrayed Donghyuck and how he has no idea what to do now. They don't interrupt even once, listening attentively until they're sure Mark is done. Then, there is silence for a while. Dongyoung looks like a stunned squirrel. Taeyong's face flicks between at least ten different expressions in the span of a few seconds. They exchange a glance and then turn back to look at Mark with identical frowns.

"Mark," Taeyong starts carefully, "that doesn't make you a horrible person."

"What?" Mark says incredulously. "It does!"

"We won't tell you what to feel," Dongyoung says placatingly. "If you feel like you betrayed your friendship with Hyuck, then that's valid. But that's just it, you feel what you feel. The same goes for love."

"I didn't say I love him," Mark mutters, face burning. He couldn't bring himself to say that out loud.

They both ignore the comment.

"What Doie is trying to say," Taeyong explains patiently, "is that feelings are a very abstract thing. You can't change them easily, even when you really don't want to feel the way you feel. And whatever it is, it doesn't make you a horrible person."

Mark doesn't argue, because he has more pressing matters to discuss.

"Fine, I'm not a horrible person then, whatever, but I still betrayed Hyuck and I still don't know what to do now."

"How about just talking to him?" Taeyong suggests.

Mark gapes at him in shock.

"Wh— I can't talk to him about this!"

"Why not?" Taeyong asks.

"Because he's— because! I don't want to drag him into it!"

"Too late for that," Dongyoung says, and it sounds awfully final to Mark's ears. "You've been avoiding him seemingly without any reason. What, you think you'll just get back to the way it used to be? You know Donghyuck better than anyone on this goddamn planet, Mark. Think for a second, you really expect him to be satisfied with some shitty excuse? And move on just like that?"

Mark's stomach sinks even more once he does think about it.

"Your only option is to tell him," Taeyong says gently, swatting Dongyoung's arm, probably for the harshness of his words.

"He'll hate me," Mark mumbles.

He's suddenly terrified. They're right, Donghyuck won't let them move on. They've had periods of not talking to each other, of course. But it was always because of petty fights, misunderstandings, jealousy. Normal, everyday stuff. This is different, and Mark isn't the only one who knows that. Donghyuck must be aware as well.

"How about you let him decide that, hm?" Taeyong says, petting Mark's head so delicately, Mark wants to cry again.

"Hey, I know you said you betrayed your friendship and all, but I don't think I've ever heard Donghyuck call you two friends like you do," Dongyoung says thoughtfully.

Mark leans into Taeyong's side. He's tired of his own emotions.

"He says we're soulmates," he mumbles into Taeyong's shoulder.

It's embarrassing. Donghyuck doesn't think so, but he's always been shameless. Mark half envies, half admires that.

"That's not necessarily platonic, right?" Dongyoung points out.

"Don't say that," Mark whines. "I have to get rid of these feelings, not hope for something. I don't even wanna consider the option of something."

Dongyoung rolls his eyes.

"You're such a baby." He sighs. "What I mean is, maybe Hyuck thinks of your bond as something so sure and strong, he doesn't have a need to differentiate between platonic and romantic."

"That's not better," Mark grumbles. He straightens abruptly. "It's just all so weird! We've known each other forever! I remember him breaking his tooth when we were seven and showing off to all the kids like it was a battle wound! We've talked about all the gross stuff you talk about when your puberty starts! I don't even know when this shit happened!"

Taeyong and Dongyoung exchange another glance.

"Markie, we'd known each other for six years before we got together," Taeyong says. "There was a lot of drama, as you're perfectly aware. I know it's not the same as you and Hyuckie, but this doesn't mean you will stop being best friends. We still are," he smiles at Dongyoung, who grins back, nodding, "so you have to give Hyuck a chance, figure it out together."

"And as for when this shit happened," Dongyoung adds, "maybe it's always kinda been there. You just didn't know."

Mark considers that. It is possible. He's always been so used to Donghyuck that might have just failed to notice his feelings are so deep. Johnny told him he's bad at being aware of his own feelings, too.

Taeyong and Dongyoung wait to see, if he has any more questions and then let him think, talking about something else. Mark thinks it's stuff like housework and people from their jobs, but he mostly zones out, observing them instead.

Taeyong and Dongyoung's body language is obvious. Even a stranger could tell they're together after paying attention for a few minutes. They can't keep their hands off each other. It's usually fleeting touches, fingers brushing over arms and hair, a hand on a knee, foot knocking into shin teasingly. They're so attentive, so tuned into each other, gazes fixed on one another's faces the whole time. Even when they start bickering, which happens quickly, since it's their favorite form of communication, there is no distance, emotions flickering on their faces clear and unapologetic. They don't hide from each other. There is an open honesty about them that Mark finds fascinating.

His phone vibrates. It's his mother asking where he is and if he wants dinner. Mark texts back and then clumsily untangles himself from the blanket, putting the giant polar bear to the side.

"I should go," he says.

"You sure?" Taeyong asks, his hand flat on Dongyoung's face for some reason.

Mark doesn't ask; they're always like that.

Dongyoung splutters and wrestles free, shooting a glare at his husband before he looks up at Mark.

"You can stay for a while longer, if you want," he offers.

"Thanks, but I think I need some time to like, process it, y'know? And mom asked about dinner. I went back to spend time with my parents and I'm living through a gross teenage drama instead."

Taeyong makes that face he always does, when he finds his younger friends adorable. He does it a lot when it comes to Mark, which doesn't make Mark feel better, because it's usually prompted by his awkwardness. He's used to it, though, so it's fine. Besides, he's not the only one who finds himself on the receiving end of it often - Lucas, Dejun, Jaehyun and Jisung do, too.

"It's not gross," Taeyong says.

"It is pretty teenage, though," Dongyoung throws.

Taeyong winces.

"It kinda is, yeah," he agrees. "But that's because you never had a teenage drama when you were a teenager, right?"

Mark didn't. He was never interested in gossip or romance, and the only fights he's had were with his friends or his parents. He didn't feel weird about it, but that's because he never really thought about it in the first place. Besides, he wasn't the only one. Renjun and Jeno haven't experienced anything like that, either. It wasn't in any way abnormal.
But now that Mark does think about it, Jeno is asexual, of course he's never experienced any teenage drama having to do with relationships, and Renjun was the cause of teenage drama so often, he was just fed up with it and strayed as far from it as he could.

And Mark realizes something that puts his newfound feelings in perspective. Dongyoung was right. They've always just been there. Mark has always been so preoccupied with Donghyuck, he's never felt any need for romantic relationships at all. And whether it was more platonic then than it is now or Mark was just too dense to notice, it doesn't matter. There has always been Donghyuck.

"Mark?" Taeyong asks with concern.

Mark blinks.

"No, yeah, I'm okay, everything's cool," he says quickly.

"Mhm. You look perfectly chill to me," Dongyoung says sarcastically.

Taeyong elbows him absently.

"Wanna talk some more?"

Mark shakes his head.

"No, I think I need to be alone for a while."

"Okay," Taeyong nods, standing up, "will you talk to Hyuck?"

"Tomorrow," Mark promises, to Taeyong and to himself.

"Okay," Taeyong says again.

He and Dongyoung walk Mark to the door. Taeyong wraps him up in an additional scarf, once Mark puts his own on.

"Be careful getting home, yeah?" Dongyoung says.

"Text me when you get there," Taeyong adds.

"And don't trip, it's probably slippery out there at this time," Dongyoung adds.

"You do know I'm not your kid, right?" Mark huffs out in a laugh.

Taeyong and Dongyoung exchange a scandalized look.

"What do you mean, you're not our kid?!"

"We adopted you ages ago!"

"How dare you talk to your second parents like that!"

Mark giggles at the show, accepts a kiss to the cheek from Taeyong and some head patting from Dongyoung, and then he's back out in the cold.

•

It's freezing. That's the only fully formed thought in Mark's brain, as he's standing in front of the gate to Donghyuck's house. It's freezing, and Mark can feel the dreadful cold seeping into his body through his two scarves and his peach colored Converse he should really stop wearing in this kind of weather. And yet, he can't bring himself to move and maybe get inside, where it's fucking warm.

He doesn't know how long he just stands there, not thinking and just feeling the cold. He's not sure what finally prompts him to move. He promised himself and Taeyong that he'll talk to Donghyuck today, though, so that's what he's going to do.

…In a while. He stops in front of the entrance this time, staring at the Christmas wreath on the door for who knows how long.

He rings the doorbell with his nerves completely frayed.

For a moment, there is nothing. Then, Mark hears gentle padding of feet, very obvious sound of dragging a stool under the door and click of the peephole. Then, the stool is dragged back, and the door swings open.

Mark is met with a very judging glare.

"Hi?" he says unsurely.

He won't lie, he's terrified.

Donghyuck's sister crosses her tiny arms over her tiny chest.

"Are you here to see oppa?" she asks in Korean.

Mark concentrates to make sure he doesn't mix up the languages.

"Yeah," he confirms, "is he home?"

She stares at him with narrowed eyes for a minute. It would even be funny, if Mark wasn't so scared of what her behavior means.

"Are you going to fix him?" she asks finally. "He turned into the Grinch. He won't even play with me!"

Mark grimaces. It must be pretty bad, then. He takes the candy basket from behind his back and offers it to the girl. Her face lights up immediately, as she takes it.

"Is auntie here?" he asks.

Donghyuck's sister nods and then turns around to scream, "Mom!"

Mark flinches at the volume. She screams twice more, until Donghyuck's mother comes rushing down the stairs.

"What?! What's wrong? Honey, what did I say about opening the door for strangers?"

"But it's Mark," Donghyuck's sister says, her focus on the basket.

Donghyuck's mother pauses, her eyes narrowing in the exact same way her daughter's did.

"Hi, auntie," Mark says sheepishly.

"So you finally decided to show up and grovel, huh," she says, grabbing the basket despite loud protests from her daughter. "Is this a bribe?"

Mark laughs awkwardly.

"Kinda, yeah. Um, Merry Christmas."

Donghyuck's mother gives the basket back to her daughter and then picks her up along with it.

"You've always made my son happy," she says, entirely serious all of a sudden, and Mark fidgets. "We Lees have this thing, you know. We can't help but claim things, make them ours. It also applies to people." She sends Mark a pointed look. "I don't know what happened, but I do know you belonged to my son all this time, and it was perfectly clear," Mark flushes, his stomach twisting in guilt, "and now he's confused and desperate, because it might not be true anymore, and I really don't like seeing him like that."

Mark looks down at his feet in shame. It's true. He has always belonged to Donghyuck in one way or another. It just has a very particular meaning all of a sudden.

"Come in," Donghyuck's mother tells him, much more kindly.

Mark does. He takes off his shoes and his two scarves, and follows her into the hallway.

"Can we open this?" Donghyuck's sister asks excitedly, unable to take her eyes off the candy basket.

"Of course we can," her mother says extremely seriously. "We're gonna go join your brothers, okay? They're playing with trains."

"Can I play with trains, too, mommy?"

"Sure, sweetie! You can play with whatever toys you want! But first, you have to go up the stairs on your own, your mother is too old for heavy lifting."

"I'm not heavy!" Donghyuck's sister pouts.

"Yes, yes, you're not heavy, now stand on your own and give me the basket."

"Mark gave it to me first!"

"And we're going to share it, baby. Besides, it's almost as big as you, you wouldn't see where you're going. We don't want you to break a leg, hm? Especially during Christmas break."

"Yeah, I guess."

Mark trails after them, helplessly fond. Donghyuck's sister runs up the stairs ahead of them, while her mother walks up with Mark at a more leisurely pace. They turn to walk into opposite directions.

"We're gonna put on some music," Donghyuck's mother says with a face Mark doesn't get, "so you don't have to keep it down. Go make my son happy again, Mark-ah."

Mark now understands the face and doesn't appreciate it at all. The suggestiveness makes him flustered. He quickly turns to Donghyuck's door, trying to ignore Donghyuck's mother's giggle. He knocks, but there is no answer. He waits there for a while, then knocks again, but his nerves make him open the door right after that.

Donghyuck is lying on the floor with his feet wiggling in the air, the cable from his earphones dangling under his chin. He's reading something and humming under his breath, and Mark is punched right in the gut with the overwhelming sense of having missed him like crazy.

His knees almost give out from the insane mix of emotions that swirl in his chest, longing, guilt, shame and fondness all at once. He approaches Donghyuck slowly, then crouches down and touches his shoulder to get his attention.

Donghyuck sighs, but doesn't look up.

"I'll play with them later, mom, promise."

Mark swallows heavily. Donghyuck has no idea it's him. He pokes his shoulder again.

Donghyuck takes out one earphone.

"I'm serious, I'll really play-" he looks up then and startles, scrambling up to a standing position and staring at Mark with round eyes.

Mark stands up as well. He had no idea he could ever feel this awkward around Donghyuck.

"So you finally decided to acknowledge my existence, huh," Donghyuck drawls. He's amazing at adjusting in any given situation, after all. His attitude is a bit forced, too stiff, but he's still dignified in a way Mark could never pull off. "What an honor."

Mark doesn't know what to say. It's not a surprise, exactly, but he's still disappointed with himself.

Donghyuck huffs, irritation obvious in his expression.

"Why are you here, Mark?"

Mark is here to apologize. At least, that was his goal initially. But now that he saw Donghyuck and realized how much he wants him close, he's not sure anymore. Apologizing would invalidate his feelings. It takes him a while to understand that he doesn't have to apologize for his feelings — he should apologize for leaving Donghyuck hanging like the biggest asshole.

"I'm sor-" he starts, but his throat closes up before he can even finish.

It's embarrassing, and he looks away from Donghyuck's annoyed face.

"I can't do this here," Donghyuck says, sighing in exasperation.

"What?" Mark asks, stupidly.

"Come on, let's go," Donghyuck orders without any explanation, and Mark follows him, because that's what he does.

It's always been like this. Donghyuck makes decisions and sets the pace, and Mark goes along with it. Mark is older, but it doesn't matter at all. It's Donghyuck who takes care of him more often than not, not the other way round. Mark used to have a problem with that, but he doesn't anymore. It was a matter of stupid pride, anyway. He actually likes to be taken care of and spoiled like that.

Donghyuck sticks his head into another room to tell his mother they're going out and to tell her off for letting Mark into the house without informing him about it. She only laughs, so Donghyuck closes the door, indignant. Mark has the urge to snicker, but he thinks it might not be the best idea right now.

They go downstairs and put on their jackets and shoes. Mark feels a painful pang in his chest, when he notices Donghyuck is tying up the laces on the sneakers Mark bought for him. Donghyuck isn't one for wasting perfectly useful things, but he is extremely petty. Mark was sure he wouldn't wear the Converse for a while at least.

It's cold, but Mark isn't thinking about that anymore. Donghyuck's presence takes up all of his brain capacity. He still hates himself for having these feelings. He hates himself for having realized he has them in the first place even more.

Donghyuck leads them to the park, not glancing at Mark once on the way. It hurts, but Mark doesn't really know what's the cause of the pain anymore. The snow is still persistently clinging to the ground and even the benches. Mark sits on top of the backrest, his feet planted where normally his ass would be. Donghyuck stops in front of him, guarded and defiant, chin high, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. Mark feels so small and pathetic, curled into himself so tightly like this.

"So?" Donghyuck says.

Mark can't look him in the eye at all.

"Sorry," he mumbles into Taeyong's scarf, then again, clearer, "I'm sorry. I know it was, like, a super shitty move to avoid you without any explanation. I freaked out a bit, kinda. Uh, didn't know what to do. With myself. But it's no excuse to treat you like that, it wasn't your fault and I probably ruined your Christmas and all. So yeah. Sorry."

Donghyuck stares at him with blazing eyes for a second and then starts pacing in front of the bench, six steps this way, five steps back, and so on. Mark waits, on the edge of his seat — literally, since the backrest of the bench is digging into his butt. Finally, Donghyuck stops, abrupt and almost bursting with restless energy that has nowhere to go.

"Okay," he says. "Apology accepted." Mark is about to sag in relief, but then Donghyuck continues, "Now tell me why you ignored me for five fucking days without a single word. What the hell did I do that made you freak out to this point?"

Mark accidentally meets his gaze and his resolution to just spit it out evaporates.

"It's nothing," he says quickly. That's all he wants to say, but his mouth betrays him and continues vomiting words in barely any order. "Honestly, dude, it's all cool now, you don't have to worry about it, it's- I'm fine, I'm cool- I mean, it's cool, it's totally okay already—"

"Mark."

"—I was just being dumb, getting all worked up on my own without any reason, you know how I get, I can't stop thinking and never good any comes out of it— no wait, I mixed that up, right? Nothing good ever comes out of it—"

"Mark!"

"—it wasn't your fault at all, you didn't do anything at all—"

Donghyuck closes the distance between them in one huge step and plasters his gloved hand over Mark's mouth, almost making him topple over backwards. Mark lets out a muffled scream of surprise, but manages to steady himself on the backrest.

Donghyuck is glaring at him from way too close. Mark feels all of his strength pour out of him at that powerful look. Donghyuck carefully withdraws his hand.

"Mark," he says, tone final, "why did you freak out?"

Mark takes a breath, but it's wobbly and doesn't help at all.

"There was— I realized something."

Donghyuck doesn't pull away from him at all, and it's hard to think. Mark is tired. Maybe it's better to tell Donghyuck everything and get it over with. It's almost impossible to resist, when Donghyuck is so demanding, anyway.

"What did you realize?" Donghyuck asks.

Mark can't take his gaze anymore. He turns his head, looks down at his shoes. He can't feel his toes anymore, but his heart is pounding, blood whooshing in his ears. He can't move. Taeyong and Dongyoung were wrong; Donghyuck will hate him.

"Look at me," Donghyuck says, and Mark is so weak, he can't not obey. "What did you realize?"

"That I love you," Mark says, the words out before his brain can stop them.

Donghyuck doesn't do anything for a while. His expression doesn't change at all, and Mark is sweating grossly under the winter chill. He won't bear it for long, he thinks. If it goes on like this, he will hyperventilate, and this conversation will be over. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst outcome. Maybe Donghyuck would never mention it again.

"That you love me," Donghyuck repeats slowly after an excruciating minute of nothing. "What does it mean?"

Mark stares at him, at a loss for words. He doesn't understand the question.

"What? It— it means what it means... right?" he asks despite his throat closing up too tight.

"There are many kinds of love," Donghyuck points out, like that's the most important thing here.

Mark can't do this.

"I— Hyuck, let's just forget it, okay? Sorry for ditching you and saying nonsense, it doesn't matter."

Donghyuck makes sure he doesn't get up by pressing his hands down on Mark's shoulders. He's frowning.

"It's not nonsense," he says firmly, "and we're not going to forget it."

Mark is about to cry.

"I don't want you to hate me," he croaks out, and he's embarrassed and ashamed and miserable.

Donghyuck frowns at him.

"Why would I hate you?"

Mark wants to disappear. This is so much more painful than he was prepared for.

"Donghyuck, I— I betrayed our friendship. This is not how it's supposed to be."

"Mark, what the fuck are you talking about?" Donghyuck says incredulously.

Mark feels a spike or irritation despite the overwhelming despair.

"I told you! I love you! We've known each other for ages! We're best friends! I betrayed that!"

Donghyuck looks at him for a second.

"That's dramatic as fuck," he decides. "Besides, if that's the case, then I did, too."

The meaning of that sentence is beyond Mark's comprehension.

"What?"

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He's still way too close for Mark's current emotional state.

"Have you ever heard me call us best friends," Donghyuck deadpans. Mark shakes his head, feeling like he opened the door to the kitchen and found the bathroom instead. "You think it's because I don't think of you as my best friend? Jesus fuck, Mark, I've been in love with you since high school, it's just fucking easier to think of us as soulmates!"

Mark desperately tries to keep his brain running.

"What?"

Donghyuck huffs in frustration, throwing his arms into the air.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?! Why do you always close yourself in your head and get paranoid! You can tell me! There is no way I'd hate you even if I didn't have these feelings! What the fuck! I thought I did something horrible!"

Words are beyond Mark right now, but he lets out a strangled sound, somewhere between relief and guilt. He really hurt Donghyuck by avoiding him, even if it was only a few days.

"You're such a fucking moron!" Donghyuck yells right in his face. His cheeks are flushed and eyes glossy, but Mark doesn't know, if it's from emotion or from the cold. It still makes his heart ache. "I can't stand you! What the hell!"

"I'm sorry," Mark whispers brokenly, and he can't even find it in him to get embarrassed at the way his voice cracks.

Donghyuck groans, doing his little pacing thing for another agitating minute, and then he turns to look at Mark with narrowed eyes so suddenly, Mark almost falls down from the bench by himself.

"That's why I asked what you mean," Donghyuck hisses. "We'll deal with your anxiety and bullshit like you claiming you betrayed me later, right now I wanna know how you love me."

Mark doesn't know how to explain at all.

"You're fucking useless," Donghyuck growls, and then he's in Mark's face, and then he's pushing at his shoulders, and then both of them are falling.

The world spins a little, Mark wheezes at the impact, and it's like Christmas Eve, but completely different. Firstly, Mark's legs are held up by the bench. Secondly, Donghyuck recovers from the fall first (which is no surprise, considering Mark took the brunt of it), raises himself on his elbows and presses his lips to Mark's lips.

The world spins out of control now. Mark's breath, barely having come back after being knocked out of him, gets lost somewhere again. Donghyuck's lips are searing hot despite the temperature around them, or maybe because of it.

Mark didn't let himself imagine this part. He didn't let himself imagine this whole thing going that way at all. No kissing, no romantic cuddling, no sex, no happiness. If he had, and it didn't happen, it would destroy him. Mark is a coward, in his core. He's terrified of getting hurt. He's not sure, if it's a good thing that he's terrified of getting Donghyuck hurt even more. If he didn't do the stupid thing and avoided Donghyuck without a word of explanation, if he realized his feelings and dealt with them quietly like Donghyuck must have done, he would probably suffer in silence for the rest of his life just to make sure Donghyuck's happy. Or at least until Donghyuck decided to take the matter into his own hands.

Maybe it wasn't so stupid, after all, Mark thinks absently with Donghyuck's mouth heavy and flaming on his own. If his avoiding was what ultimately got them here, then maybe it's a good thing that that's what Mark did.

Donghyuck is in love with him, holy fucking shit.

Donghyuck lets him breathe finally, after an hour or a year, and Mark stares up into his dark eyes, and thinks they're more sparkly than the sky above their heads.

"Is that how you love me?" Donghyuck asks, panting just a little.

Mark nods, a small, jerky movement of his head at first, then keeps nodding, quickly and fervently. And Donghyuck smiles, and it's like sunlight shone directly in Mark's face, blinding him, warming him up from inside out, until for the first time in almost a week, his stomach settles comfortably.

He's always looked at Donghyuck, but he's never seen what he's seeing now, and it's euphoric.

"Did you eat the ketchup yet?" Donghyuck asks, still a little breathless, still radiating joy.

Mark rolls him unceremoniously to the side.

•

"Hyuck."

Donghyuck hums to signal he's listening. Mark buries his feet into the bundle of a blanket they keep on the couch specifically for when Mark's feet get cold. Sometimes also for Lucas, when he ends up falling asleep in the living room, which happens quite often. But Lucas and Renjun aren't there yet, still spending time at home with their families.

Donghyuck is playing a game on the console they all chipped in to buy. He's trying to beat his high score, and Mark feels bad for interrupting him, but only a little. One of his feet accidentally bumps into Donghyuck's shoulder, and Donghyuck makes a little sound of complain. Allegedly, he can concentrate better on the floor than on the couch. Mark is skeptical, but he sucks at games in general, so he won't voice his doubts.

He hesitates a bit before telling Donghyuck what he wants to tell Donghyuck, but Donghyuck was the one who very clearly expressed that Mark should talk to him about stuff that bothers him those two weeks ago, when they established that both of them, in fact, have romantic feelings for each other.

"Are you— like, cool?" he asks, because he can't speak at all apparently.

"No, Mark, I'm rather hot, if I do say so myself," Donghyuck mumbles absently.

He spends too much time with Johnny.

"Shut up, that was awful," Mark grumbles.

"What should I be cool with?" Donghyuck asks, getting them back on track, even though he's the one whose attention is divided between Mark and a game.

"With— with the way things are? Right now?" Mark asks, although it shouldn't be a question.

"What things?"

"I dunno, dude, like, our things? The things between us."

Donghyuck stills. He pauses the game and turns around, and Mark has Regrets. He shouldn't have started this topic, the way Donghyuck is looking at him makes him sweat from nerves.

"Is there something you wanna change?" Donghyuck asks.

Mark averts his gaze.

"Look at me."

It sounds different than that look at me from two weeks ago. It's not less demanding, but it's heavier somehow, and Mark's spine prickles curiously. He has no choice but to look, like something deep inside him wants him to do everything Donghyuck tells him to do.

Donghyuck is resting his chin on his folded arms, close to Mark's feet that are still under the blanket. His eyes are dark and sparkly, and Mark gulps.

"It's been like this for a long while for me, you know?" he says unexpectedly softly. "I'm used to the feelings and the weirdness, and I kinda forgot it's new for you. If it was only up to me, we'd have had sex long ago."

Mark chokes on air.

"D-Dude!"

Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

"What. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it, Mark Lee."

Mark has. Of course he has. It's still a little strange for him to imagine it, though. Like he's doing something illegal.

"Want me to get you used to it?" Donghyuck asks, his voice a little smug, a little dangerous.

"To what?" Mark asks weakly.

Donghyuck gracefully lifts himself up to sit next to Mark on the couch and lean close.

"To things lovers do, obviously," he whispers huskily, and Mark knows it's teasing, he's perfectly aware of the fact that the choice of words is intentional, but he still flushes so furiously, he's pretty sure his gut catches fire.

"Come on, man, don't do that, I'm serious," he whines.

Donghyuck grins, but doesn't pull back.

"Look, I know it's weird," he says, quitting the teasing, at least for now. "It's fucking insane, actually. We've known each other forever. I never really thought we'd get here. I suspected you're curious, that maybe you have a crush on me, because we spend so much damn time together. I didn't think it's possible for you to be serious about it, but honestly, I should have known. Mark Lee doesn't half ass anything, right?"

"You know, the more you talk, the more embarrassing it gets," Mark says dryly.

Or at least he aims for it to be dry. It comes out strangled and squeaky instead.

Donghyuck's palm presses gently into his sternum, where Mark's heart is tripping over itself like mad, then slides up to his shoulder and curls around his neck. It's warm, soothing and wrecking at the same time, and Mark remembers to exhale.

"I wanna kiss," Donghyuck declares, casual like a stroke. "We've done that only once and only because you suck at communication."

"Hey," Mark protests, snapping out of it momentarily, "you said yourself that this is insane, I've never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to say?"

"Mark," Donghyuck says, and Mark remembers his current predicament. "Do you want me to fucking kiss you or not."

Mark can't get out any words after that for the life of him, so he nods, his hands clammy, where they're gripping the blanket, and his face too hot. Donghyuck huffs a laugh, exasperated and fond, and Mark thinks he should prepare himself for what's coming, but as soon as that thought forms in his mind, Donghyuck's lips are already pressing into his own.

It's different than that first kiss, not as packed with frustration, not as aggressive, because this one isn't happening just to prove something. Mark isn't completely numb this time, either. Donghyuck's hand moves from his neck to his hair, tugs to make him angle his head, and Donghyuck's mouth moves languidly against his. It's chaste and sensual at once, and Mark's eyelids fall on their own, because it feels good. Mark has kissed a few people in his life, but it's never felt like this. And sure, it might be because they're in love, however crazy that wouldn't be, but it's probably mostly because Donghyuck is a fucking pro at it. He nibbles, sucks, pecks and works his jaw in an insanely skilled way, and Mark's lips are tingly after just a few minutes. His head gets fuzzy, thoughts lazy and soft like cotton, focused mostly on sensations and not much else. It's so pleasant and warm, that Mark stops trying to consciously do anything, just follows Donghyuck's lead, and it's almost scarily natural.

Soulmates, Mark remembers, when Donghyuck's other hand lands on Mark's chin and pulls gently to pop his mouth open. That's when Mark's brain switches off completely, because Donghyuck's tongue is in his mouth and there is just no room for anything else to be happening. It's insane how good Donghyuck is at kissing. Mark completely melts into him, his heart beating so heavily, it's as if it grew in size to fill up his whole ribcage. He must be making some embarrassing noises, but frankly, right now he just doesn't give a shit.

Something rattles, but Mark can't place the sound immediately, the whole world narrowed to Donghyuck and his skillful mouth.

"What the fuck!"

Mark springs back, whipping around to look at the front door.

Renjun is standing there with a suitcase by his feet, staring at them with his mouth open and eyes wide in shock.

"Is this what Yangyang was talking about?!"

"Yangyang?!" Donghyuck exclaims. "Yangyang doesn't know!"

"Actually," Mark says, scratching his neck awkwardly and looking anywhere but at Renjun, "he might have guessed it."

Donghyuck's eyes narrow at him.

"We'll talk about that later," he tells him firmly and focuses back on Renjun. "What are you even doing here? You weren't supposed to be back until Sunday!"

"Well, you were being shady and didn't wanna tell me what's going on, so I came back earlier to get it out of you with force, obviously," Renjun scoffs. "Am I the last one to know?"

Mark and Donghyuck exchange a look.

"Almost the first one," Donghyuck reassures him. "Except for my parents."

"And my parents," Mark adds.

"My siblings—"

"Taeyong and Dongyoung—"

"And Johnny."

"What the hell, that's a whole bunch of people!" Renjun complains, walking into the apartment finally and shutting the door behind himself.

"They were the ones who gave us advice, so they wanted to know what happened after that, and we just, uh. Told them," Mark explains.

His lips are still tingly, sensitive, and he wants to kiss Donghyuck again. It's hard to focus on conversation.

"And Yangyang?" Renjun asks, taking off his shoes that are appropriate for the weather contrary to Donghyuck and Mark's Converse.

"I complained to him about Mark being an ass," Donghyuck shrugs, "and Mark hangs out with him a lot, so maybe he just noticed."

"Wait, Jeno hangs out with him a lot, too!" Renjun points out. "If Jeno knew before me, I'll fuck you up!"

"I don't think he does," Mark says slowly, staring at Donghyuck's lips.

"Nah, Jeno's too dumb," Donghyuck dismisses. "Ah, but I told Sungchan."

Mark snaps out of his daze.

"What?!"

Donghyuck actually looks a bit sheepish.

"He's known about my feelings for a while now, so he asked for details, when I told him we made up."

"Wait, you haven't talked to anyone else about your feelings this whole time?!" Mark exclaims. Donghyuck must be crazily strong; Mark couldn't even take it for a few days, and it's been years for Donghyuck.

"Uh, actually," Donghyuck mumbles with a sunny grin that fools no one. "Jaemin, Renjun and Jungwoo knew, too."

That makes more sense.

"And you didn't tell them what happened?"

"No," Renjun says flatly.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

"I thought we should probably talk it out first," he tells Mark.

Mark's chest blooms with a particular sort of warmth only Donghyuck could ever cause.

Renjun huffs. He grabs his suitcase and takes out his phone.

"Gross," he mutters. "I'm calling Yangyang, I'll interrogate you two later," he says in a clipped, business tone. "Proceed," he adds, waving an imperial hand at them, then disappears in his bedroom.

Mark and Donghyuck stare after him for a while.

"So how long do you think it'll take for everyone to know?" Mark asks.

Donghyuck shrugs.

"We told Johnny three days ago, most of them probably know by now," he says.

It's a fair guess, Johnny is a gossip. Mark couldn't not tell him, though. Not when Johnny directly asked him, if he had figured out his problems.

"I should call Jungwoo and Jaemin before Renjun gets there," Donghyuck adds under his breath.

It's probably a good idea — Jungwoo can be more petty than Donghyuck himself, which is a level simply beyond Mark's grasp, and Jaemin would annoy Donghyuck to death with dramatic accusations.

"Mark," Donghyuck says, gathering his attention instantly.

He's close again, so close that Mark can feel his breath hitting his face. It makes his gut tighten with heat.

"Hyuck, Renjun's here," Mark protests weakly.

"Baby, we're probably gonna have sex more than once with both of them behind the wall," Donghyuck murmurs, and Mark's brain gets so hung up on the endearment that he forgets words are something that exists. Donghyuck huffs a laugh and kisses him again, and Mark just... lets him.

He has a feeling it's going to be like that more often than not. Him letting Donghyuck do whatever Donghyuck wants to do, that is. He's okay with it. He has always looked at Donghyuck and followed him, and whatever they become, that won't change. They belong to each other. They're—

"I KNOW I SAID PROCEED, BUT NO SEX ON THE COUCH!" Renjun roars from the hallway.

Mark gets startled and accidentally bites Donghyuck's lip, Donghyuck jumps, howling in pain, and because they somehow got tangled in the blanket that Mark warmed his feet under, they both end up sprawled on the floor.

Renjun comes out to see what happened and laughs at them way too much, and Mark thinks he should maybe get used to getting crushed by Donghyuck's weight. He only complains a little.

•••