Work Text:
ACT I
“Who are you texting, we’re all here?” asks Jeno, leaning over Mark’s shoulder and trying to catch a glimpse of Mark’s screen.
Mark jerks his phone away before Jeno can catch more than the smallest glimpse of a messaging app. “No one!” Mark exclaims, voice pitching up. It’s an obvious lie. Thankfully, Jeno shrugs it off, attention distracted by Jaemin hanging off his arm and cooing sweet nothings. They were disgustingly cute as always. Mark furtively returns to his phone, checking beforehand to make sure everyone is occupied. He thinks he’s in the clear, Jisung and Chenle each clinging to one of Renjun’s shoulders as they pester him about something, and Donghyuck typing on his own phone. Mark reads the text again and fights a dopey smile off his face.
He taps out a short response, tacking on a few heart emojis to balance out the longer reply time and sends it—just in time. Donghyuck bounces over to where Mark is, grabbing his hand and trying his hardest to smack a wet kiss to Mark’s cheek.
“Cut it out, Hyuck!” Mark complains, attempting to wriggle away.
“So, who were you texting?” Hyuck counters, latching on tighter the more that Mark fights. He sighs deeply before going boneless and Hyuck overshoots his grip, nearly tripping flat on his face. He scowls at Mark, who laughs triumphantly. “I haven’t forgotten the question,” Hyuck reminds Mark, arms crossing in front of his chest. “Who were you texting just now?”
Mark weighs his options before admitting “My boyfriend.” Hyuck pauses, mouth dropping open.
“What?!” He shrieks, gaining the attention of the rest of their gang.
“Hyuck!” Renjun scolds, eyes wide. “What’s with the fucking banshee impression? We’re literally all right here.” He looks over at Mark for an explanation and he shrugs.
Donghyuck throws an arm out to point accusingly at Mark. “He has a boyfriend!” He exclaims. All eyes turn to Mark, who shrugs again.
“I do.” He says dryly. Chaos erupts, everyone shouting at once to ask their questions until a sharp whistle pierced the group and they quiet down. Jaemin is still leaning back against the tree he’s sitting against, fingers at his lips from the whistling.
“Who is it?” He asks in the quiet, eyes on Mark.
“Someone you don’t know,” Mark answers cooly, staring back at Jaemin. “Met him at a baseball camp.” It’s the truth, and Mark thinks back to laughing for hours in the outfield under a blazing sun and sweaty kisses exchanged in an empty dugout.
“Hm,” Jaemin hums, uncrossing his arms. “Okay.” Hyuck looks at Jaemin with betrayal in his eyes.
“Okay?! What do you mean okay, Jaemin! He’s been hiding this from us! For months, probably.” Donghyuck’s voice is loud but his body language betrays his true feelings; he’s hurt. Mark winces internally. He had kept it a secret on purpose, but Hyuck always makes a big deal of calling himself Mark’s best friend. This potentially wasn’t the best way for him to find out. He reaches out to tug Hyuck under his arm, hugging him against his side.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner. It’s long-distance and I wasn’t sure how long it was gonna last.” Mark explains sheepishly. Hyuck softens against his side as Chenle coos at Mark.
“Fine, you’re forgiven. But you better tell me all the details now, okay?” Hyuck asks indignantly.
Mark laughs. “Okay,” he replies fondly, squeezing Hyuck against his side. Their group settles back into a quieter state as they eat their food and unwind after the school day before heading home to slog away at homework.
ACT II
Mark’s eyes burned from the amount of time he’s spent staring at a screen. A movie after school with Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin bled into working on an essay for his lit class and now it’s time to watch the game. His screen is still split, the floating player extension he’d installed for nights like this keeping the game in the upper right corner of his screen as the cursor blinks in the middle of the page of Mark’s essay.
The score is 3-2 in favor of the Cyclones, bottom of the ninth. No men on, only one out left until the Cyclones win and Mark is on the edge of his seat. The opposing team hits a nasty line drive out to right field and Mark’s stomach twists. The short stop dives for the ball, but it bounces off the edge of his glove and starts an upward trajectory. It’s moving slower now, but still clocks an easy 75 mph and is heading right for the stands clear as day. Mark hisses as the batter rounds third, but before he can make it home the right fielder leaps to launch himself off the wall and miraculously catches the ball—out.
Mark jumps up to cheer, panicking when the action nearly sends his laptop tumbling to the ground. The camera pans to the right fielder and Mark catches a glimpse of too-long black hair tucked under his blue baseball cap. He grins foolishly at the screen as the outfielder raises his hand in acknowledgement of the cheers. Two of his teammates have run out to slap his shoulders and hug him tight. Mark realizes too late he’s tearing up and a droplet splashes against the screen.
Then the outfielder looks right into the camera and blows a kiss, still holding the game winning ball. Mark’s heart skips a beat and he quickly scrubs away the handful of tears that threaten to spill over. He searches around for his phone, and as soon as he finds it, he’s swiping it open to the messenger app. Congrats <333 is hastily typed out and sent.
Mark sighs as he sinks back down into his bed. It’ll be a while until he gets a response, there’s so much to do post-game and Mark knows checking your phone isn’t high on the list. I saw that game winning catch. You’ll be sent up in no time!! All tired out tho, so i’ll be asleep when you get this. ily <3 Mark types, hesitating with his thumb hovering over the blue send arrow. He swallows back the tinge of bitterness on his tongue and hits send before shutting his phone off, tossing it to the end of his bed, and resituating himself with his laptop. Time to finish this paper on “Left Hand of Darkness” so he can go to sleep at a semi-reasonable time. He has practice late tomorrow with the team so this needs to be finished now.
ACT III
Rainy days are the worst. More often than not, practice is cancelled and Mark can’t settle down, each tick of the clock a reminder of the time he’s wasting. Time off the pitch means time he’s not improving, time he’s not out in the open where scouts can see him. Renjun and Donghyuck get annoyed, tell him to stop bouncing his leg, stop biting his cuticles, and take a breath. Chenle and Jisung are only sophomores, they don’t feel the pressure yet. No looming presence of the Future breathing down their necks quite yet, but Jaemin and Jeno look at him with sympathy. They understand what he’s feeling and do their best to silently offer their support.
Even worse than cancelled practice is when they push through the weather. The diamond gets muddy and the pitch is downright treacherous. Their coach warns them over and over to not try anything flashy, to abort the very second something feels wrong, but Mark is co-captain. And more than that, Mark feels a desperate pressure to be scouted, get a scholarship, and a shiny new jersey with a matching spot on a varsity team.
He’s practicing catching in the outfield today. In this rain it's almost impossible to even see the ball and the grass shifts without warning under his cleats. He’s already stumbled twice, but he’s too far out for anyone to really be able to tell so he ignores the golden rule of rain practices and keeps at it.
The next hit out to him is wild, and he flashes back to black hair and a game winning maneuver. The ball is in the right position for it, heading above his head and into the bleachers. There’s no wall to gain momentum off of at their field, so Mark digs the balls of his feet into the ground and launches himself up and back, left hand reaching for the ball. He feels the familiar whoomph of a baseball in a glove, tucked right in the pocket.
He lets out a triumphant whoop milliseconds before he lands and pain lances up his right leg. Mark cries out as he goes down, head knocking hard against the pitch and the air forced out of his lungs. Immediately he knows something is wrong, very wrong. His right leg doesn’t hurt but rather buzzes like a livewire and he can feel every pinprick where the grass touches his uniformed leg. He can sense people around him, someone calling for the nurse or an ambulance, someone else taking off his hat and trying to get him to sit up. Their coach is yelling and everything is so loud. He’s thankful the rain hides his tears but he can hear someone sobbing and screaming distantly.
It’s not until he chokes on a mouthful of water that he realizes it’s him.
Mark thinks he blacks out because he comes to in the back of an ambulance, a kind paramedic stabilizing his leg. He can’t lift his head from where it’s strapped to the board but he can see the man in his peripheral view and feel his warm hands around his knee. It feels almost nice, although every bump in the road sends knives of pain up through his leg and he groans.
“Hey, glad to see you’re awake.” The paramedic says. “Try not to move too much, my name is Jaehyun, and my partner Yangyang is at the wheel. We’re on our way to the hospital. All making sense?”
Mark tries to wet his mouth to reply. “Yeah, I think so.” Jaehyun smiles.
“You can talk, good. I’m keeping your leg stable for now and there’s no obvious fractures and your kneecap is still aligned so all good signs.” Jaehyun explains, his pleasant smile soothing some of Mark’s panic. “I’m sorry if you’re in pain,” Jaehyun starts to say as they turn a corner and Mark winces. “We can’t give you anything hard for it until you get to the hospital, but I promise the docs will get you on something as soon as we roll in.”
“I understand,” Mark says and Jaehyun nods.
“Good. Your coach and parents are meeting us there, is there anyone else you want me to call?” Jaehyun asks and Mark thinks this man is too patient as he flashes dimples at Mark. He’s cute, objectively, and as embarrassing as it will be later to recall this interaction he appreciates the effect it has on distracting himself.
Then he processes the question and immediately he thinks of the inevitable unread messages waiting for him on his phone, full of hearts and sweet promises and inquiries about practice. “Um, can I talk to my best friend? He’ll be pissed if I'm not the one who tells him right away,” Mark explains. Jaehyun nods.
“Of course, where’s your phone?” He leans over to the side, where Mark assumes his stuff is.
“It should be in the front-left pocket. Code is 243824,” Mark answers and can make out the sound of a zipper and then the little tap sounds his phone’s lock screen makes.
“I’ve got it,” Jaehyun says, back in Mark’s field of view.
“His name is Duckie in my contacts,” Mark says. “And then can you hold the phone by me?” Jaehyun nods and starts going through Mark’s phone, finding the contact.
“I can but you’ll have to be quick, we’re only a few minutes out.” Jaehyun says, leaning so that the phone is pointed at Mark’s mouth. It rings two, three times before Hyuck picks up.
“Mark? What’s up? Practice is over right? Do you need a ride or something?” Hyuck’s questions come one after the other and Mark can barely get a word in edgewise.
He laughs weakly. “Or something, I guess. Listen, I’m in an ambulance because I got hurt during practice—”
“What?!” Hyuck shrieks and Jaehyun bites his lip to suppress his laughter.
“I’m probably fine, but can you get the others?” Mark can feel the ambulance pulling into somewhere, slowing down. “I have to go, Hyuck, but I’m okay, promise.”
“Fine, but you better be when I get there,” Hyuck threatens, but his words are choked and his voice thick. The line clicks dead and Mark stares at his phone unseeing. Jaehyun gently takes his phone and securely replaces it in Mark’s bag. The back doors of the ambulance open and Mark squeezes his eyes shut at all the noise and commotion.
“Cone on, let’s get you looked at,” Jaehyun says as he lifts the gurney from his place at Mark’s head.
ACT IV
It turns out Mark has sprained his MCL and given himself mild shin splints. It’s likely a better diagnosis than Coach Moon was waiting to hear and Mark would be lying to say he didn’t breathe a bit easier after talking to the orthopedist on call that afternoon. It’s minor enough that he’s only being given a brace and crutches plus two weeks rest, followed by two weeks of physical therapy and a sleeve to wear during games. He probably won’t be at his best for baserunning for a couple months, which makes Mark’s stomach pang, but his fielding should be perfectly fine. Their season starts in three weeks, so Mark is only missing the very beginning, one or two games tops.
Mark gets a stern talking-to from the doctor, Coach Moon, and his parents. He also gets a tight, tearful hug from Hyuck and a prescription for what amounts to extra-strong advil. There definitely could have been worse outcomes to the day, Mark thinks in the car home. He still hasn’t checked his phone. He knows he should, Yuta will be beyond Hyuck-levels of pissed if Mark doesn’t tell him about something as serious as a hospital trip right away but he can’t face it. Yuta has everything he wants, a contract and the jersey and the shot at going pro.
Mark blinks back tears. He can’t quite grasp why he thought this would work, Yuta is two years older than him, already a sophomore in college to Mark’s senior in high school. He didn’t lie when his friends asked where they met, Mark was at a baseball camp. Yuta might have been a special instructor but that detail is left best-omitted.
His mom helps him to his room after a quick dinner and Mark promises to call her if he needs anything. Mark finally looks at his phone, checking twitter and texts from his friends before hovering over Yuta🐙💕(3). Mark takes a deep breath and clicks into the messaging thread. His earlier guess had been right, they were just the usual messages from Yuta, updating Mark on his day and asking about practice.
Mark takes another breath and presses the call button in lieu of responding. They have an unspoken rule about unscheduled phone calls but Mark thinks this news won’t deliver well over texts. The line rings six full times and Mark is beginning to think he’s going to have to leave a fucking voice message when Yuta finally picks up. “Mark?” He sounds breathless.
“Hey,” Mark replies quietly. He wracks his brain for why Yuta would be out of breath and comes up blank. “What are you doing?” Mark blurts out.
Yuta sighs very softly. “Power walking out of the library so I can take your call,” Yuta answers, the ghost of a laugh in his words. “What’s going on, Markie? It’s not like you to call unannounced.”
Mark tries not to let the words feel like stones in his stomach. “Oh, well,” Mark scrubs one hand over his face harshly as he searches for the right words. “I had an accident. I had to go to the hospital” He settles on. Yuta inhales sharply.
“No…” Yuta breathes out, voice small. “Are you—are you okay?”
Mark has never heard Yuta sound so defeated and tiny. Usually he’s the image of confidence, always reassuring Mark and talking him down from whatever has him worked up. “Yeah, sprained MCL and shin splints, I’ll be out a month. It was a mishap during practice.” Mark’s throat feels like closing up around the last words. He got hurt trying to do what Yuta did, trying to be cool like him.
Yuta coos and Mark desperately wishes he was there. He wants comfort, wants to be held and soothed and told everything was going to be okay. But Yuta was halfway across the country and several leagues away. “I’m glad it’s not more serious, I know how devastating that would be for you.” Yuta says. “But how are you feeling? Are you going to school tomorrow?”
It’s close enough to the right thing to say. “No, probably not. But the day after I will. They gave me something for pain management while I heal so there’s no reason to miss any more classes than that.” Mark answers and he can hear Yuta exhale slowly, like he’s biting back something. Mark isn’t in the mood to fight. “Anyways, I’m tired so I'm going to bed. I just wanted to call and let you know.”
Yuta makes an aborted sound but then sighs and hums. “Okay, that makes sense. Sleep well baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Mark repeats the sentiments and ends the call. Tears are spilling down his cheeks but he resolutely wipes them away and begins the painful process of trying to get ready for bed.
ACT V
The first day back is rough. Mark isn’t used to moving so slowly and like a hundred people almost trip over his crutches. Coach Moon invited him to watch practice and help assistant coach, but the thought of watching his teammates play while he’s incapcitated stings far too much and he begs it off, citing pain from his injury. He makes a vague promise to come watch soon and heads out to the parking lot with his friends around him in a protective semi circle.
Jaemin was going to drive him home, but everyone else insisted on coming over to lift his mood. He couldn’t bear to blow them off too so he resigns himself to another unproductive afternoon and his friends fawning over him. Chenle and Jisung are chattering away between themselves behind them, Jeno has his arm slung around Renjun’s shoulders ahead of Mark, and Jaemin and Hyuck flank his either side with Hyuck carrying his backpack.
They’re just rounding the main visitor’s entrance when a car parked by the curb honks, twice. Mark flinches, as does Jisung. They all whip their heads around to look at the vehicle and Mark’s heart skips a beat or two.
Leaning against the car is a man, with long black hair tucked under a blue baseball cap and a leather jacket over his shoulders to keep them from being exposed to the sun. His tank top reveals a small smattering of tattoos up on arm and the sun glints off the numerous piercings in each ear. Mark can hardly believe it. “Who is that?” Hyuck asks right before Mark shoulders him out of the way and hobbles towards the man as fast as he can.
The man smiles brilliantly and rushes forward, meeting Mark in the middle and clutching him to his chest. Mark lets his crutches drop and he melts into Yuta’s chest. “What?” he chokes out around his tears into Yuta’s shirt.
Yuta laughs gently. “You can’t think I would let my boyfriend recover from an injury on his own did you?” He raises a hand to stroke through Mark’s hair, the other still holding him tightly against his chest. Mark lets out an ugly sob and Yuta holds him through it, just standing on the curb and stroking his hair, whispering sweet nothings to Mark. It feels so good to have Yuta under his hands, to actually feel him rather than just imagine what it’s like.
Eventually Mark's crying ceases and he calms down. Yuta holds Mark upright as Renjun and Hyuck help him get back on his crutches. “So this is the elusive boyfriend?” Hyuck asks, voice tinged with judgement and Mark doesn’t need to see Hyuck’s face to know he’s giving Yuta a once over. Yuta laughs, bright and easy and extends a hand.
“The one and only, I hope. My name is Nakamoto Yuta.” Hyuck shakes his hand suspiciously.
“Lee Donghyuck, best friend.” Yuta nods seriously.
“I have heard. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Introductions are passed around the group and everyone has a question to ask. But Jeno hangs back, eyeing the two of them. Mark notices and calls out, interrupting Chenle’s like tenth question about Yuta’s tattoos.
“Jeno? Everything okay?” Mark’s brows are furrowed, as are Jeno’s.
“Nakamoto Yuta? Like the baseball player for the Cyclones?” he asks suspiciously. Yuta beams and nods eagerly.
“Yup, that’s me. Are you a fan?” Jeno squints at Yuta.
“No, but Mark is. What’s your game here dude? Did you need a power trip so you fucked a fan?” Mark gasps, horrified, but before he can even apologize for Jeno, Yuta laughs.
“There is no ‘game’ here, I met Mark at a baseball camp and couldn’t tear myself away from him. Still can’t, being away hurts like hell” Yuta answers earnestly. He wraps a gentle arm around Mark’s shoulders. Jeno nods slowly before smiling brightly.
“Good answer.” Mark laughs incredulously but settles into Yuta’s side comfortably. He practically glows with happiness and even if Yuta is only here for the afternoon just seeing him makes it all worth it. He thinks about healing quickly and about the scouts Yuta has promised in the past to make sure Mark has a chance at joining him. The sun shines brightly on the group as they laugh together at something Yuta says to Chenle, and Mark feels at home.
+VI
Mark can’t even breathe the high is so great. His team surrounds him, lifting him onto their shoulders, cheering and screaming. The last game of the championships was theirs, all because of Mark’s amazing catch in the ninth inning. People are swarming onto the field, shouting congratulations. Mark laughs, head tipped back as he trusts his team to keep him in the air. His eyes fall onto the stands and he sees Yuta, smiling brighter than Mark has ever seen. He’s holding a blue hat, and with ease he tosses it out onto the field. Mark reaches out and catches it. The blue and orange Cyclones logo is emblazoned across the front. Mark looks up at Yuta in disbelief. Yuta just smiles back and shouts “congratulations!”
Mark’s team spins him round and round and Mark thinks nothing could feel better.