Chapter Text
Donghyuck wakes.
It’s cold, he immediately thinks as he subconsciously flings an arm to his left, hoping for it to land on warmth. It doesn’t. It plops soundlessly onto chilled softness, and Donghyuck frowns. He cracks open a bleary eye, only to see how Mark’s side of the bed is empty.
A whine quickly makes its way out of Donghyuck’s mouth just as his lips form a pout. It’s Saturday. Mark should still be in bed. A little miffed, Donghyuck curls into himself, fingers pulling the duvet over his head and around himself. It’s warm, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, nose scrunching.
But it’s not warm enough.
Suddenly sitting up, Donghyuck throws back the duvet and reflexively turns his head towards the large window behind him. His eyes open slightly, only to fully open when he realises that the sunlight streaming in isn’t that bright.
Oh. Mark must have pulled the curtains shut after getting up.
(Which is rare because, due to school, Donghyuck is usually the one waking up earlier and he’d pull the creamy yellow [or baby blue or pale green, depending on which set of curtains is in the wash] fabric over the glass.)
Donghyuck reaches towards the light, fingers curling into creamy yellow, and he gently slides the curtain to the side. The glass is slightly foggy, an obvious indication of the temperature. Still, it doesn’t stop Donghyuck from getting to his knees and sliding it open.
The autumn cold graciously makes its way through the insect netting and enters their apartment. It blows past the curtains to envelop Donghyuck, its cold tendrils tickling his face, ears, and nape. A soft giggle slips past Donghyuck’s lips even though he’s shivering. The cold, the temperatures are similar, but Tokyo’s autumn somehow seems different from Seoul’s.
There’s something magical about it.
“Or,” Donghyuck murmurs as he perches at the window, eyes looking through the tiny gaps of the netting. He takes in the tranquillity of the street in front of their apartment building. There’s hardly any traffic, only a couple of people entering and exiting the Lawson situated opposite. Oh, and several oba-sans assembling in front of the neighbourhood grocery store that’s two units away, their arms carrying shopping bags of groceries.
Maybe because it’s Tokyo.
Donghyuck tears his eyes away from a young lady unlocking her bicycle to look at a young man standing at the pedestrian crossing and waiting to cross the small street. At first glance, he looks like any young Japanese male, but Donghyuck would recognise that mop of black hair on that large head anywhere.
The corners of Donghyuck’s lips curl upwards, and his head tilts a little to the side as he fondly gazes at his fiancé. Although quite a distance away—their apartment is on the highest floor of six—Donghyuck manages to make out precisely what Mark is wearing. And the smile on Donghyuck’s face widens when he sees his fiancé’s selection.
Mark’s clad in his favourite pullover, an ecru-coloured piece Donghyuck had gifted to him for Christmas last year. It’s nothing expensive. For Donghyuck had bought it at a shopping street frequented by students, and at a discounted price (because Donghyuck had purchased an identical pullover for himself as well hehe). Mark loved it so much that his frequent usage (and laundering) over the past couple of months inevitably caused its appearance to degrade. Now, it has been demoted to home wear.
And homely is precisely how Mark looks as Donghyuck takes in the black down vest that’s donned over the pullover. The vest was a purchase that they had to make (at a small Uniqlo at Haneda Airport) for Mark found himself trembling upon alighting from the plane. That was when both Donghyuck and Mark realised how lightly they have taken Tokyo’s autumn to be. (They shopped up a storm at a much larger Uniqlo that same day, hauling back to their apartment three full luggage of down jackets and HEATTECH garments.)
The three white streaks down the sides of Mark’s pants catch Donghyuck’s attention. And Donghyuck can’t help but squint as he tries to make out what pants his fiancé is wearing because, um, it looks very familiar. Mark’s pants look awfully like the pair of Adidas track pants Donghyuck himself was wearing just yesterday… Donghyuck turns to look at the coat tree they purchased from Muji the week before. There’s an empty clothes hanger hanging on a branch.
Yep, Mark’s wearing his pants.
Rolling his eyes, Donghyuck goes back to spying looking at his fiancé. He ignores the pair of Adidas slides (also Donghyuck’s by the way) on Mark’s socked feet to look at the plastic bags in his hands. One, two, three.
“That’s thirty yen!” Donghyuck groans as he watches Mark cross the small street. “I didn’t bring over from Seoul a bunch of tote bags and freezer bags for you to not bring them out when you go shopping, sweetie…” Sighing, Donghyuck slides the window shut and flopping back onto the bed.
It’s warm, thinks Donghyuck as he dives back under the duvet before grabbing Mark’s pillow to hug it. He buries his face in it, breathes in the minty scent of Mark’s shampoo (because Mark had refused to use Donghyuck’s strawberry one). A smile forms on Donghyuck’s face instantly, and he hugs the pillow tighter.
But it’s not warm enough.
Familiar sounds of beep beep beep alert Donghyuck to someone pressing the buttons of their passcode door lock. He tilts his head up in time to see Mark shouldering the door open.
Their eyes meet. Mark breaks into a smile.
“Hey, Duckie.”
“Thirty yen!”
Mark laughs as he gently uses his foot to close the door. Slipping out of his slides, he says, pouting, “Don’t I at least get a ‘hey, sweetie’ back before you tell me o–”
“No!” Donghyuck sits up. A frown forms on his face and he folds his arms across his chest as he watches his fiancé place the bags on the small island counter in the kitchen. The frown deepens when Donghyuck sees a small plastic bag emerging from one of the larger ones, the blue LAWSON causing his eye to twitch.
But before Donghyuck can open his mouth to say anything, Mark pipes up, “Uh, as you can see, it’s forty yen. I, um, forgot to let the cashier at Lawson know that I didn’t need a bag–”
“Forg–”
“Love, I’m–”
“You conveniently forgot–”
“I’m sorry!”
The expression on Mark’s face lets Donghyuck how absolutely apologetic his fiancé is. And as someone who has come to be less immune against Mark’s kicked-puppy look (those glistening orbs will be the death of Donghyuck someday), Donghyuck knows that he won’t stay mad for long.
“I’m really sorry,” says Mark. He puts away the last of the groceries (Donghyuck’s favourite jelly cups) in the fridge, shutting the door before rounding the kitchen island to make a beeline for his angry fiancé. “Baby, I’m so sorry…”
Donghyuck huffs and turns his head away when Mark makes a move to sit on the bed. A pair of legs soon bracket him, and Donghyuck feels himself being pulled backwards by the arms circling around his folded ones.
“Babe…”
The heat that meets with Donghyuck’s back is more than familiar. Smiling a little, Donghyuck allows himself to lean comfortably on his fiancé’s chest, his head falling back and resting on Mark’s shoulder. He bites back a smile when Mark attempts to unfold his arms, only for a soft, confused sound to escape him when Donghyuck’s arms don’t budge.
Mark blows a raspberry. “Duckie…” he murmurs while trying again. Donghyuck refuses to move. Mark sighs. “Please uncross your arms, love…”
Donghyuck shakes his head. “Nope,” he says as he nestles his head against Mark’s neck. Donghyuck then shakes his head again, a giggle leaving him when his fiancé shudders. Not many people know this, but Mark is actually super ticklish, especially his neck.
“What do I have to do to make you not angry anymore?”
“You know what you should do,” Donghyuck answers. “You know what you can do.” The warmth emanating from Mark’s neck tempts Donghyuck, and he can’t help but turn to bury his face into his fiancé’s neck. “You know what you ought to do, love.”
Donghyuck feels Mark’s arms tighten around him before a pair of lips press lightly on his cheek. Mark doesn’t remove his lips. Instead, Donghyuck feels them moving, warm puffs of breath peppering on his skin.
“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I made a silent promise,” Mark replies. His lips are no longer on Donghyuck’s cheek, but Donghyuck knows that they aren’t far away; warmth still peppers his skin. “A promise to remember to bring out bags of our own whenever I head out, even if I’m not going on a grocery run.”
Donghyuck hums in acknowledgement before moving his head away from his fiancé’s neck. He angles his face upwards, eyes darting up from Mark’s neck to look at his face. And Donghyuck isn’t at all surprised when he realises that Mark is already looking down at him. Their eyes meet again, and Donghyuck finds himself instantly falling into the fondness swirling in his fiancé’s eyes.
Oh.
He surges up to press his lips against Mark’s.
“What was that for?” Mark asks when Donghyuck’s lips leave his seconds later. “Have I been forgiven?”
“You wish,” sneers Donghyuck as he sees a smile form on his fiancé’s face. The urge to slap that knowing smile off of Mark’s face prompts Donghyuck to unfold his arms, which he does with Mark’s arms still wrapped around him. He also pivots himself, his thighs coming to rest on Mark’s, his arms reflexively circling Mark’s neck. Donghyuck’s fingers easily find their place in the hair at the back of Mark’s head.
Tilting his head to a side, Donghyuck looks at his fiancé. The tiny smile on Donghyuck’s face is fond.
“Just wanted to kiss you, that’s all.”
A heartbeat of silence.
“God, you’ll be the death of me, Duckie.”
And then, Mark’s lips are on his.
It’s warm, Donghyuck thinks as he kisses back, his fiancé’s lips absolutely searing against his.
It’s finally warm enough.