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College was supposed to be about reinventing himself.
At least, that’s what Mark had told himself during his first year, before proceeding to spend the entire year locked in his dorm room studying and not really making any friends other than his math tutor.
If he even counted as a friend.
Well, he probably did, considering Johnny was the one that listened politely to Mark’s admittedly pathetic plans for the weekend (studying some more, maybe playing video games, before eventually posting a craigslist ad for a new roommate since his last one suddenly decided to move to LA last weekend leaving Mark to scramble to make rent money), before inviting him to a ‘college’ party downtown.
Mark’s first party.
Not that he’s sure it could actually count because it wasn’t his college.
Johnny’s boyfriend Ten had a swanky downtown apartment, the type that Mark had usually assumed would be occupied by businessmen or celebrities, not a bunch of Columbia College dance majors. He’d double and triple checked that he was in the right place before knocking on the door, but apparently, he had managed to make it to the right place.
Even if he did still feel completely out of place.
There’s music loud enough that Mark really is shocked none of Ten’s downtown Chicago neighbors have filed a noise complaint, a mass of people dancing to the music, or lingering on couches, everyone with a different colored solo cup in their hand.
(Johnny had briefly explained the colored cup system when Mark had arrived, how some indicated that people were dating someone, or single and looking for a good time, and how under no circumstances was Mark to accept one of the black solo cups and drink the dark red punch inside of it.
But Mark hadn’t paid much attention to anything other than the message not to lose his blue solo cup filled with beer.)
As far as reinventing himself went, hiding out in Ten’s kitchen probably wasn’t exactly the best method of going about that, but it is quieter here, giving him a chance to think for once.
His cup is empty, which had been his excuse for coming in here in the first place, but he’d long since gotten off track once he’d opened up Ten’s fridge to find it literally empty with the exception of one half-drunk bottle of white wine.
There’s probably a table out in the living room with all the drinks, which is where Mark really should head, but the lack of any sign of food in the fridge inspires Mark to open every cabinet in Ten’s kitchen for some reason.
Only to open cupboard after cupboard, drawer after drawer, and discover exactly nothing inside of them.
“What the fuck,” Mark mumbles to himself, as he opens yet another cupboard to find it completely empty.
“What are you doing?”
Mark jolts, slamming the empty cupboard shut, and turning to the person that he could have sworn was not there a second before.
They must just have very quiet steps, like a mouse or something.
That or Mark really hadn’t been paying attention.
People did always say his survival skills were shit.
“Uh, haha, what?” Also, his ability to come up with a convincing like, complete shit.
He looks up meeting the gaze of a pair of red - weird choice of contact color but okay - eyes that seem to be scrutinizing him. For a second Mark feels nervous, his heart beating too fast in his chest, fight or flight responses activating suddenly for no apparent reason.
It’s not like Mark had really been doing anything wrong.
Sure, he was being really weird, but there was no reason to panic, no reason to-
Ice cold hands touch Mark’s hand, pulling him away from the cupboard that he had been looking into. It’s weird, but at the touch of the other’s hand, all at once all of Mark’s nervousness seems to melt away, instead replaced with a simple and easy calm.
Not even the light buzz that had been there from drinking remains.
It’s as if the entire world stops, the only thing he can focus on is the hand touching his.
“You smell really good.”
Mark blinks.
Maybe he has had too much to drink.
His laugh is awkward at best, “Dude what?”
His hand is dropped a second later.
The illusion of peace shattered, as suddenly the sounds of the party can be heard again, as far as gay panic goes certainly not his worst, but definitely not his best, at least now his heart isn’t trying to hammer its way out of his chest.
“Were you looking for something?”
“Beer?” Mark says, his voice sounding unsure to even his own ears.
But the guy in front of him just nods his head, “Follow me.”
Mark feels like he would follow him anywhere.
For now, he just follows him out of the kitchen and back into the party.
“I haven’t seen you around before, did you come here with someone?”
“Uh yeah,” Mark says, fumbling to keep up with how graceful this stranger moves through the party, dodging drunken bodies with ease. “I actually go to DePaul, Johnny invited me, he’s Ten’s-”
“Human.”
“-Boyfriend,” Mark finishes, “Wait, what?”
“What?”
“What did you just say before?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, you did, you…” Mark trails off.
Maybe he had just heard him wrong.
The music was awfully loud.
“Nevermind.”
“Let’s get you another drink, Mark Lee.”
*
“I may have found a solution to your roommate problem,” Johnny says the next time they meet up to study.
Which honestly at this point Mark is willing to accept whatever crazy idea Johnny has because everyone he had met up with from Craig’s List seemed to be a creep, and the idea of getting murdered by some stranger on the internet wasn’t really high on his college bucket list.
“Oh yeah, really?”
Johnny hums noncommittally, “Do you remember Donghyuck?”
“Who?”
“From Ten’s party.”
Honestly, that whole party was a bit of a blur. Ten had tried to introduce him to a lot of people at first, but none of the names stuck, and the only face that could really stick out at all had been the guy that he had met in the kitchen, but even then…
“Maybe?”
Johnny laughs, digging out his phone, ignoring their study plans to pull up a photo of the guy from the kitchen.
Donghyuck, apparently.
Johnny’s good with photography should probably be doing that instead of accounting because the photo he shows off makes Donghyuck look good. Sure, Mark wasn’t blind, he had definitely been able to tell even in his slight drunken haze at that party that Donghyuck was unfairly attractive even with the weird contacts.
In the picture Johnny shows Donghyuck’s eyes are a shade of brown so dark that they’re nearly black, his smile a mix of attractive and deadly, looking like the most expensive piece of art in the photograph despite the fact that Johnny had clearly shot these photos at the Art Institute.
Literally exactly Mark’s type.
Which would have been great for a blind date.
Not exactly the best situation for a roommate, but beggars can’t be choosers, and there’s no way Mark can pay the full rent for the two bedrooms on his own again next month, that is at least not without picking up another part-time job.
“Oh yeah, I remember him.”
Mark pointedly ignores the knowing smirk that Johnny shoots his way.
“Yeah, so apparently he needs a new place to live, for some reason,” Johnny says. “At least, I mentioned offhand that you were looking for one and suddenly he was begging me for your contact information.”
There’s something in Johnny’s almost smug expression that Mark can’t decode.
He doesn’t Donghyuck well, didn’t talk for more than their brief drunken encounter where Mark was caught snooping through Ten’s apartment, but if he had been begging for Mark’s number to get the spare room that clearly whatever his current living situation was couldn’t be ideal.
His slight attraction wasn’t enough to leave someone stranded without a decent living situation.
He’d just have to will that attraction away.
Which hey, maybe could be super doable, especially if Donghyuck was an even mildly annoying person to live with. Maybe this is for the best after all?
Mark’s eyes flicker down to Johnny’s phone screen once more, to the slight smile on Donghyuck’s face that had been captured in the picture.
“He’s chill, right? You know him.”
“Yeah, I mean, when he wants to be.”
“Oh okay then, I-”
“And he won’t murder you,” Johnny says. “Ten checked, and he doesn’t see murder in your future if the two of you become roommates, which like compared to some alternative plans he saw well… In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have invited you to that party.”
“That’s… Reassuring?”
“I mean, statistically speaking, the odds are in your favor.”
Mark’s pretty sure he’ll never understand whatever weird astrology thing Ten believes in that helps him claim to see the future , but it did help Mark once or twice with Johnny being able to know when the weatherman was going to be wrong and to advise Mark to pack an umbrella.
Though how knowing the weather and knowing whether Mark’s future roommate was going to murder him were related, Mark couldn’t figure out.
“Okay, yeah give him my number.”
*
“You don’t have a bed?”
The second the words leave his mouth, Mark internally cringes at himself, definitely not the most tactful way to have said that. But it was the first time that he was seeing his new roommate’s room since Donghyuck had moved in a week ago, having somehow managed to move all of his stuff up and into his room all in the two hours it had taken for Mark to attend one of his lectures.
He had assumed that meant that Donghyuck didn’t have much in there.
Mark just hadn’t thought it would mean the lack of a bed of all things.
There is, at least, a pretty sweet video game setup. Two monitors at his desk, plus a tv with more systems attached, new ones and vintage ones, basically every video game system that has ever excited - which seeing as Mark has definitely heard Donghyuck gaming well into the normal sleeping hours of the night made sense.
But between the bean bag chair set up in front of his TV and the gaming chair in front of his PC, Mark can’t for the life of him figure out where Donghyuck sleeps. And it’s not like he had been passed out on the couch every morning, that is unless he is somehow an even earlier riser than Mark is.
“What?”
Mark’s cheeks heat up, feeling guilty at having stared too long around his housemate’s room, and definitely being shamed more than enough to the point where there’s no way he’s about to repeat his careless statement again.
When shifts to meet Donghyuck’s gaze, he finds that the other boy is staring at him, without blinking, gaze calculating but also a little bit confused.
Like he hadn’t heard Mark or -
“You don’t have a bed,” Mark says because his dumb mouth doesn’t know when to stop.
Donghyuck blinks, slowly, like it was a forced motion, before asking, “Why would I need a bed?”
“I-” Mark starts and then stops, isn’t even sure how to answer that question other than the obvious, to sleep .
This definitely was not the way he intended for his first real conversation with his new roommate to go, their previous conversations all have been quick hellos in passing and Mark rearranging the alphabet magnets on the fridge with messages to Donghyuck that mostly went unanswered.
A touch, barely there, Donghyuck’s fingers against Mark’s wrist catches him from spiraling with embarrassment over his messy conversation before he can even start. Calmed down instantly, only able to focus on where Donghyuck is touching him.
It’s only once Donghyuck pulls back and asks “Did you need something?” that Mark seems to come back to himself.
“Uh, shit, yeah,” Mark fumbles with his phone, unlocking the screen to pull back up uber eats, “I was going to order dinner and watch a movie. Did you want something, figure if I’m already paying for delivery then you could join me and-”
“I’m good,” Donghyuck cuts him off.
The smile on his face looks amused, not angry, so Mark figures it’s better than nothing. Seeing as he was the one that barged in and asked why his roommate didn’t have a bed, the fact that the bedroom door hadn’t just been shut in his face was a miracle at this point.
“But let me know when your food gets here and I’ll join you, we can still watch something? I jsut you know… Don’t eat, so…”
Right.
Donghyuck was one of Ten’s friends.
Probably some sort of performing arts major at Columbia too, which definitely meant a strict diet, and not ordering in Thai food for the fifth time this month.
“Yeah, that works.”
True to his word, when Mark’s food does eventually appear, Donghyuck emerges without Mark having to knock on his door and ask, and despite Mark having ordered too much and still definitely making sure to offer some to Donghyuck, the other boy settles on his side of the couch with nothing more than one of his special organic tomato juice shakes from the fridge to eat.
(When the next day Amazon delivers an air mattress to their apartment, Mark tries not to read too much into it.)
*
Chicago weather doesn’t make sense.
In fact, it has never made sense.
And probably will never make sense.
Somehow it manages to be all four seasons in one week, with an unbearable wind that makes Mark wonder why people always seem to insist that the windy part of the windy city doesn’t actually come from the very wind whipping his jacket around his body.
At least, he’s managing it better than Donghyuck.
He’s not sure why he had come along, but a Target run alone was kind of boring, whereas a trip to Target with a friend (or roommate) was one hundred percent more exciting, so Mark hadn’t wanted to complain when Donghyuck offered to come with, even after he insisted that he didn’t need any groceries.
Though now as they brave the few blocks of walking from the train station to the Target Donghyuck seems to be in quite the state, hunched in on himself in his jacket, always making sure to be a few steps ahead of Mark, wrinkling his nose whenever Mark gets too close.
Which like okay, rude, he showered today and didn’t even go to the gym, so it’s not like he smells back or anything.
“Dude, I told you that you could’ve just stayed behind.”
Donghyuck grumbles at that, “And let you walk across town with your lack of survival instincts? No thanks.”
“I walk to class on my own fine every day.”
“Yesterday you tripped off the curb on your way home and split your knuckles when you feel,” Donghyuck reminds him.
As if Mark could forget the way his roommate had taken one look at the bloodied napkins pressed to the back of his hand yesterday before leaving the apartment and then texting Mark before returning to insist that take out the trash with his bloodied napkin as soon as possible otherwise Donghyuck wouldn’t be returning.
If he had known Donghyuck was so squeamish he would have texted ahead to let him know to stay in his room or something.
Mark flexes his fingers the childish baby shark band-aid that had literally been the only ones he could find in the apartment, stretches as he moves his hand, a few steps ahead of his Donghyuck grimaces again.
Probably just a reaction to the wind.
“That was a freak accident,” Mark says. “Who could have predicted that?”
“You were playing KartRider while walking home.”
“You do it all the time!”
“I have had years to master the ability to multitask, clearly they didn’t teach that in Canada.”
Mark shakes his head.
Somehow it always ends up like this.
“Aren’t I older than you?”
“In theory.”
“What’s that even me-” Mark starts, then stops, as for a brief second the wind and clouds around them seem to shift, and a bright patch of sunlight lights up their patch of the city. The sun catches on something on Donghyuck’s cheek, it glitters under the light, and all thoughts of their playful argument stops as Mark can’t bring himself to look away from Donghyuck.
Stupid useless gay brain still finding his roommate attractive.
“Dude, did you go to a party last night?”
“No,” Donghyuck replies, scrunching his eyebrows up.
“You’ve got like glitter on your cheek or something?”
Mark watches as Donghyuck reaches up to scrub at his cheek, somehow not moving the glitter at all, it must be part of his foundation or something, glued onto his face at this point. “It’s definitely still there.”
Donghyuck doesn’t reply, not really, just scowls up at the sun, “Why is Chicago weather literally always the worst?”
“I mean, at least the sun finally decided to show up! That never happens!”
*
He hadn’t been expecting visitors, seeing as it was like eleven pm on a Tuesday night but when he buzzes in whoever was outside it turns out to be Johnny and Ten.
Ten sounding way too relieved to see him, greeting with an ever cryptic, “Oh good you’re still alive.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ten shrugs, making his way into the apartment, Johnny following a step behind him. Apparently making themselves at home despite it being bedtime and Mark clearly already dressed in his pajamas.
“Uh, not to be rude, but what exactly are you guys doing here?”
“Just doing a wellness check,” Johnny explains, equally cryptically, “Making sure you’re still alive, and all that jazz.”
“Hey, speaking of which, is Hyuck here, I-”
“What are you two doing here?”
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Or something like that.
To be fair they were being loud enough, and Mark’s still not sure when the sleep occurs in Donghyuck’s sleep schedule, but somehow the sight of Donghyuck in the living room when Mark hadn’t even heard his bedroom door open or close catches Mark off guard.
Whoever taught Donghyuck to walk so quickly and quietly is truly Mark’s worst enemy.
“Can’t I come to visit my favorite former housemate?”
Donghyuck makes a face, “It’s Mark’s bedtime. Come back tomorrow.”
They’ve been roommates for a few months now.
Long enough that Mark can tell that there’s no way this conversation is going to end well. Donghyuck’s eyes always seem darker when he’s in a worse mood, and this morning they had been nearly a pitch-black, something which also probably had to do with whatever weird fasting diet he currently had going on since all of the organic tomato juice that seemed to be all Donghyuck ever consumed had run out the day before.
At least Ten’s the one getting caught at the bad end of Donghyuck’s bad mood and not Mark.
“Actually,” Ten says. “I was thinking of going camping for the rest of the week, backpacking, a nice weekend trip to the Ozarks, get some fresh air, and experience nature.”
A silent conversation seems to pass in the second following Ten’s faux-casual suggestion, his topaz eyes meeting Donghyuck’s black ones, conversation passing somehow between their gazes before Donghyuck sighs. “I hate camping.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter,” Ten says. “That is unless…” He trails off, and suddenly Mark finds two sets of eyes staring at him.
An uncomfortable shiver crawling up his spine.
The overwhelming feeling of being prey seconds away from being caught and-
“Johnny will stay with Mark, so there’s no need to worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Donghyuck says.
At the same second as Mark says, “Dude, why are people always worrying about me? I’ve lived alone before.”
“Right, well, then since that’s settled. Camping it is?”
Mark has no clue how that all got settled so quickly.
Or what has even just happened.
But apparently, Mark’s got a houseguest for the foreseeable future which is cool and all and he’s probably not going to be sleeping tonight anyway so, when Johnny suggests, “Hey, wanna do a Lord of the Rings marathon and skip our classes tomorrow?”
(Wait, didn’t Ten have classes?
And Donghyuck?
Not that Mark’s ever actually seen him go to class.)
He can’t find a reason to say no.
“Fuck yeah.”
*
There’s another party.
If one could even call this a party.
More like a kickback.
Or whatever the classy version of a kickback is.
The second one that he’s ever attended at yet another one of Johnny’s absurdly attractive and weirdly rich enough to live downtown friends. Mark meets the host - Taeyong - for about ten seconds before he’s once again left to his own devices in a party full of beautiful strangers.
This one isn’t as wild as the party at Ten’s had been.
Instead, everyone is drinking wine, Johnny having got both of them a glass of white wine - which Mark was apparently meant to stick to the white for the whole night unless he wanted a killer hangover tomorrow - before settling down on the expensive couches to discuss classic literate or old books, and really Mark is just impressed with the way one of the guys - Taeil, he’s pretty sure - talks about Fitzgerald as if he actually knew the guy.
English majors are weird like that.
Johnny’s disappeared on him again, which he has a bit of doing, leaving Mark alone with one of Taeyong’s like model pretty friends, a girl whose ice-cold fingers graze against Mark’s cheek in what is clearly meant to be flirting but comes as a casual excuse to pretend to brush a hint of wine off his cheeks.
“Oh no, it’s not wine after all,” she says, voice soft and teasing, “Looks like a real blush.”
Wine always has a habit of making him flush.
“Ha ha, yeah I-” Mark starts, awkward, ready to politely decline her advances because he really isn’t interested in girls that way.
Except he never has to finish the sentence, because there’s a hand swatting hers away from him before he can say anything, “Yerim didn’t anyone ever teach you not to touch what isn’t yours.”
The girl - Yerim - doesn’t seem too put off by the sudden appearance of Donghyuck, nor his interruption to their conversation. “I didn’t realize the snack was yours.”
“Mark’s not a snack,” Donghyuck snaps back.
Out of the corner of Mark’s eye, he can see that Ten has also suddenly joined the party, and Johnny has reappeared back from wherever he had disappeared to before because the two of them are pressed close together in conversation.
Yerim just shrugs before vacating the couch.
Mark half expects Donghyuck to settle down into the open space left by her disappearance, but instead he still seems on edge.
“When did you get back from your camping trip?”
“A minute ago,” Donghyuck says. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“But you just got here, shouldn’t you like-”
“We’re leaving,” Donghyuck says.
Stubborn and leaving no room for debate. He takes Mark’s wine glass from his hand, setting it down harshly enough on the end table that the glass shatters, suddenly drawing every set of eyes in the room in the direction.
Mark flushes under the attention, and Donghyuck scowls.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Blushing.”
“Dude, I can’t help it,” he says, defensively.
Donghyuck grabs his hand, intending to pull Mark up from the couch, to get him to go along. But there’s something about it, about Donghyuck, just pulling him along, reappearing from his week-long camping trip with Ten to interrupt the party without any real explanation and then just expect Mark to go along with it all that sets something off inside of him.
Annoyance, anger, that he swears hadn’t been there a second before, but that now consumes him.
Mark jerks to pull his hand free, but Donghyuck’s grip is firm, too firm to jerk back from, to even try and resist staying in the party.
He’d only make a scene.
It’s much easier to follow Donghyuck out of the party, and back into the cool air of a December in Chicago. Once they’re outside Mark at least manages to wrench his hand free, a part of his anger seems to simmer out once Donghyuck is no longer holding onto him, but the annoyance is still there.
“What’s your problem?”
“Come on, let’s go home.”
“You can’t just show up suddenly and pull me away, Hyuck, you’re not in charge of me.”
“Seeing as you apparently have a death wish, and since our mutual friend has no regards for what keeping you safe means,” Donghyuck says, walking towards the train station.
Mark could turn around.
Could go back up to the party.
But instead, he finds himself following Donghyuck towards the train station.
“I’m an adult, I can go to parties,” Mark counters.
“Do you have any idea what she was thinking about doing to you?”
So that’s what this is about.
The girl at the party.
That he hadn’t really had any interest in.
“I mean, I can guess,” Mark says, “But she wasn’t my type, I’m more than capable of turning straight girls down, I’ve had years of practice.”
Donghyuck snorts, mumbling “Idiot” under his breath like he doesn’t think that Mark would hear him.
“I thought going camping with Ten was supposed to mean you coming back in a better mood.”
“I would be in a better mood if someone didn’t-”
There’s the sound of a car horn, cutting Donghyuck off,
Loud and sudden, tires slipping on ice, the freshly fallen snow a danger zone, and Mark braces himself for impact, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see what feels inevitable, for an end that should surely be coming, only for it to never come.
The sound of the crash is distant.
And when he opens his eyes, he’s pulled tight up against Donghyuck’s body, across the street of where the car that had been driving on the road next to them has swerved off paths, hitting a light pole instead of what Mark had surely thought would be their bodies.
But that’d didn’t make sense, hadn’t they just been…
Right there.
On the other side of the street.
Right where the car-
“Oh my god, weren’t we just- oh my god-”
“No, we’re fine.”
Mark steps back, putting a little bit of space between them and looking down at Donghyuck with wild and confused eyes
“That car was going to hit us.”
“But it didn’t, you’re fine.”
“What just happened?”
“Adrenaline,” Donghyuck says, somehow not freaking out about their near-death experience, “That’s a thing, you can google it.”
Mark, on the other hand, can’t bring himself to say anything other than - “Oh my god.”
“Why is it so hard to keep you alive?”
*
They’re fighting.
Kind of.
Mark’s not exactly sure what is happening, even since that party Donghyuck has been weird and distant and with finals coming up he really doesn’t have the time to figure any of it out. If Donghyuck wants to be in a weird mood then fine, once he gets through finals he’ll sort this all out before winter break and they can go back to being normal roommates before Mark flies back to Canada to see his family.
At least, that’s his plan.
This is why he lets himself ignore the anxious feeling in his stomach whenever he looks at Donghyuck’s shut bedroom door, too nervous to bring himself to knock on it and invite a peaceful meeting between the two of them.
Still that doesn’t stop Mark from lingering in the living room as he works on his essay in hopes that Donghyuck will eventually venture out of his room and start up a conversation with him.
It’s a good plan in theory.
While in practice…
Mark ends up falling asleep on the couch, his essay unfinished, his laptop abandoned on the coffee table, and when he shifts in his sleep, rolling over to try and stir himself to wakefulness and maybe venture back to the comfort of his own bed, he freezes at the sight of someone - the very roommate he had been hoping to cross paths with - settled awkwardly on the living room floor.
“Are you watching me sleep?”
“You were saying my name.”
Well, that’s… Embarrassing.
How does Mark manage to embarrass himself even in his dreams?
Thankfully the darkness of the late-night hour probably hides the blush that rises to his cheeks, one small mercy in all of this.
“I’m tired of fighting with you,” Donghyuck says breaking the late-night silence. “Let’s just stop.”
He’s still half asleep.
And he still isn’t even sure why they were fighting.
But Mark nods, shifting slightly to make more room on the couch, before beckoning Donghyuck towards him.
He’s not normally the type to cuddle.
Donghyuck is always the one to initiate touch between the two of him.
But it’s a peace offering, the only one Mark’s half asleep brain can think to offer, and he’s not surprised in the slightest to find Donghyuck taking it, their bodies pressing too close together, the couch really isn’t big enough for the two of them but somehow they make it work.
“Dude, why are you always so cold? It’s like sleeping next to an icicle.”
“Go to sleep, Mark, you need your rest.”
Mark can’t even bring himself to argue back, because no sooner does Donghyuck say the words, before a feeling of pure exhaustion seems to overwhelm Mark, sleep suddenly coming as easily as the simple act of closing his eyes.
*
Waking up in Donghyuck’s arms after spending the last week fighting with him is probably not his most graceful moment, especially because there’s a brief moment of panic when he realizes they’re still in the same position that they were in last night and that Donghyuck’s eyes are closed which at least probably means that he’s still asleep.
Which is good because for a moment his stupid half asleep brain decides that staring at Donghyuck’s lips mere centimeters from his own is a perfectly acceptable thing to do and not something that should induce panic because the only solid thought bouncing around his head is that he would very much like to kiss Donghyuck.
Totally a normal thing to think about his roommate.
Mark shifts, aiming to not wake Donghyuck up as he escapes from the couch, but he shouldn’t have even bothered trying to be stealthy in his movements because apparently, Donghyuck is the lightest sleeper known to man, his eyes flying open far too quickly the second Mark shifts even slightly.
All but jumping off of the couch to put space between them.
Right.
Well, that’s as good of a rejection as any.
“Sorry, about that I-”
“Dude, no it’s fine-”
“I should have gotten up once you were asleep, but I-”
“-I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Their voices overlap both talking at once.
Mark hates the fact that he can feel his cheeks heating up, the embarrassment at having been caught in his position, in his stupid brain for finally putting together what he’s been feeling all along. More than just mild attraction, but real emotions, ones that Donghyuck probably doesn’t return which is going to make this whole roommate situation more awkward than anything else he’s ever experienced in his life.
They both fall silent at the same time.
Mark’s not even sure what to say next.
Not even sure what he can say, so he gets up off the couch, moving to put even more space between them, heading for the safety of his bedroom, “I have to go, I, I have a class.”
“Yeah, I - okay then.”
It’s only once he’s in the safety of his room, tugging on normal people clothes, and shooting a panicked text to Johnny that he realizes it’s actually a Saturday.
*
“I think I’m falling for Hyuck,” is definitely not how Mark intended to start this conversation.
But at least, Johnny doesn’t seem surprised, just hums around his iced americano, before saying, “Were you planning on telling me something I didn’t know?”
Mark groans, slumping backward in the Starbucks booth seat, “How did you know? I didn’t even know until a week ago. Like sure I’ve always found him attractive, but this is different, like it is emotions and shit, and I don’t even know if he feels the same.”
At that Johnny snorts out a half laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You don’t know if he feels the same?”
“Yeah?”
“He does.”
“How do you know that?”
Johnny shrugs. Completely unhelpful as always. “He basically imprinted on you during that party when you first met. Ten said it was like a fifty-fifty chance on whether he was going to eat you or kiss you that first night, and seeing as you’re clearly here in front of me, we all know how that ended.”
There’s so much there that Mark can’t even begin to unpack.
But for starters, he feels like he should set the record straight - “We’ve never kissed?”
“Shit really?”
“Also, wait hold on, eat me?”
“I mean, obviously,” Johnny says, shrugging again. “But that didn’t happen so…”
“Wait, wait, wait, Hyuck eats people,” Mark says. “Like you mean in a sexy way,” which wow okay Mark hadn’t thought about it before but maybe he wouldn’t mind that, if and when they ever got to that state of things, “not like a cannibal way, right?”
There’s a long pause.
Too long of a pause for Johnny to have been making a sexual joke.
Surely.
The sip Johnny takes of his drink really offers no explanation, and Mark can’t help it, the panic that seeps into his voice, as he repeats his question - “Hyuck’s not a cannibal, right?”
“I mean, in my defense, up until ten seconds ago I really thought you knew.”
*
This morning he had definitely planned for this conversation to go a different way.
Confessing his feelings, maybe seeing of Donghyuck felt the same, and all that mushy gushy stuff not, having his phone ready to speed dial 911 on his pocket, a feeling of complete panic consuming him as he finds Donghyuck chilling on the living room couch and blurts out - “Are you a cannibal?”
Probably not the best way to handle interrogating his possible cannibal roommate.
But when had Mark’s brain-to-mouth filter ever worked before.
“What the fuck?”
“Johnny said you were going to eat me that first night we met, and not in the sexy way, and I - What? Like he’s just fucking with me, right? Right?”
Mark needs this.
Needs Donghyuck to laugh it off.
Have this be some sort of weird inside joke that Mark just was never a part of.
Not that look of complete confusion and slight guilt as Donghyuck says, “Well, yeah, I mean you smelled really good. You still do, like nobody else has ever smelt this way before, but Taeyong thinks it’s some sort of soulmate thing, and not like the world’s tastiest snack so I resisted the urge and now here we are.”
The word soulmate pings around Mark’s head for a second like a DVD loading screen.
Before the fact that Donghyuck just admitted he barely resisted the urge to eat Mark comes back to the forefront of his brain.
“And I mean, sucking your blood isn’t technically eating you, so I feel like I shouldn’t be called a cannibal ,” Donghyuck continues, oblivious to Mark’s minor crisis. “But, I mean, you already knew that so, I don’t get what the big deal is.”
“Wait - hold on, the fuck,” Mark cuts him off. “All of this is brand new information?”
Donghyuck does that thing.
His slow purposeful blink that literally looks fake, before asking, “What part?”
“ All of it,” Mark repeats. “You’re a vampire? What? Since when?”
Donghyuck shrugs. “I’m really bad at math, like twenty years or so, I’m like the youngest in our group, so…” He shrugs again.
“Your group.”
“Mark literally all of your friends are vampires, I mean not Johnny, not yet,” Donghyuck says. “Ten doesn’t want to turn him until after his graduation, just to make sure Johnny’s really sure about the whole thing, not that there’s really any question there. I’ve felt his emotions enough times to know that he’s pretty serious about all this and-”
“This is a joke,” Mark says, cutting Donghyuck off. “You’re joking right? This is so funny, ha ha ha, what a good joke that everyone is having at my expense.”
Surely, it’s a joke.
One big joke.
It has to be.
Because vampires aren’t real, and if they were there’s no way Mark could have been living with one for months and not realize that…
His hands shake, too scared to even reach into his pocket and panic dial a phone number, his breath seems to catch up in his lungs trapped in a loop, while his heart beats too fast in his chest.
Distantly he registers that he’s about to have a panic attack.
About to -
Not fully, because in a blink of an eye Donghyuck is off of the couch and across the room with inhuman speed, taking Mark’s hand in his own, and instantly calming Mark down.
Like magic.
Or not exactly magic , he supposes.
He’d always thought Donghyuck just had a grounding presence, and a contagious mood, but now, as a forced feeling of calm overwhelms him cutting off the panic before it can even happen, Mark’s pretty sure that the reason his mood changes whenever Donghyuck touches him has something to do with the inhuman quality of his roommate.
“You’re actually a vampire.”
Donghyuck’s fingers are cold against the back of his hand.
Cold as ice.
Or stone.
“Yeah.”
“And you thought I knew that?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck admits. “It’s not like I’ve bothered to hide it. I did think it was weird that you asked why I didn’t have a bed, but…”
Mark groans.
Suddenly so much about his roommate makes sense.
Except not everything because -
“Hold on, why don’t you burn up in the sun then?”
“That was a rumor made up hundreds of years ago to help the humans feel safe,” he explains. “We actually sparkle in the sunlight. You’ve seen me sparkle.”
“We live in Boystown, Hyuck, people sparkle all the time,” Mark points out. “How was that supposed to clue me into anything, you could just be really into body glitter like Ten is and - oh my god - wait are you saying that-”
Donghyuck, of course, ignores him.
Still frowning as if generally disappointed with Mark and the fact that he hadn’t been able to figure out that his roommate was a vampire. Which given the fact that apparently, his only human friend’s boyfriend was also maybe a vampire, and… Everyone else that Johnny had potentially introduced him to since Mark moved to Chicago… was also a vampire …
“You never put two and two together? Really? I don’t eat-”
“Again, we live in Boystown.”
“And then there was that car that almost hit you.”
“Okay, hey,” Mark cuts him off. “You said that one was adrenaline, and I, a good friend, believed you.”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile on his lips.
Apparently finding Mark’s minor crisis endearing, rather than you know terrifying and world-shattering.
“Wait, does this mean like your special organic tomato juice that I’m not supposed to touch is actually…” Mark can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Because if he does then he has to admit to himself that it actually is - “Blood? Oh yeah?”
“Oh my god.”
“Don’t worry it’s all like ethically obtained, Doyoung’s got that internship at the hospital, so he just takes some from the blood bank there and gives it to us.”
“Isn’t that for like people who are dying .”
“I mean, technically, I am dead,” Donghyuck points out. “And in need of it, otherwise there will be people that are dying.”
He should probably be freaking out about this more.
Probably will freak out about this more.
Tomorrow.
Or as soon as Donghyuck lets go of his hand, but right now…
“I know this whole situation is kind of weird, and I’m probably going to need to have eighty more discussions about this later, but I woke up this morning really wanting to kiss you and-”
“I could tell.”
“You could tell?”
“Uh yeah, when I touch people I can feel what they’re feeling,” Donghyuck says, though he doesn’t let go of Mark’s hand which definitely means he is feeling whatever Mark is feeling right now.
Panic.
Though of the gay kind this time.
Not the fear of being eaten kind.
This time when Mark’s heart starts beating fast, Donghyuck’s magic vampire powers can’t calm him down, because it’s Donghyuck that’s making him feel his way.
“Oh cool, that’s cool, super cool even,” Mark says, “So if I could feel what you were feeling, would you maybe be feeling the same thing?”
Donghyuck’s grin is just a little bit too smug, for the amount of butterflies it sets off inside of Mark’s stomach, “I promise I won’t eat you if we kiss.”
“Yeah, that’s good enough for me.”
Donghyuck’s lips are cold, just like the rest of him, and he pulls back leaving the kiss just this side of chaste, which is nice in a way, but also leaves Mark desperately wanting more and-
“Your heart is too loud, it’s distracting.”
“Wait, dude, you can hear my heart, that’s so embarrassing, oh my god.”
*
“Hey, Mark, super causal question, how good are you at baseball?”
“Uh, decent.”
“Decent?”
“Slightly better than decent?”
A burst of lightning illuminates their apartment, casting a faint glow over where Donghyuck lays in bed next to him, squinting into the display of his cell phone, his lips pursed in silent contemplation, before he seems to make a decision, fingers flying across the screen to type out a reply.
“That’ll have to do, come on, let’s get you a raincoat.”
“Hyuck, it’s 2am and there’s a thunderstorm outside.”
“Exactly, perfect timing for a baseball game.”