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♪
Mark steps into the recording booth and it feels like coming home. He has recorded a lot of songs the past couple of years, with that many debuts and subunits, however knowing that this time he’s recording for NCT Dream’s first official album makes this moment more special.
He signals to the producer behind the glass that he’s ready and the next two hours is spent on recording his verses, suggestions being discussed and corrections being made. Mark doesn’t want to settle for less, always knowing that he can do better.
Mark knew from a young age that he wasn’t ready to disappoint everyone, most of all to disappoint himself. He left his country, his family, his home to pursue this road.
Everyday he reminds himself to work hard to earn it.
Mark walks a few times up and down in the booth, his arms moving up and down next to his body, listening to his latest recording. Satisfied with the result he calls an affirmative. He looks up to find Donghyuck sitting on the couch behind the producer.
He’s surprised. Donghyuck’s turn was after his, but he didn’t expect him to be already here. He wonders how long he’s been sitting there, listening to Mark rap.
Donghyuck looks up from the sheets he’s holding in his hands and makes eye contact with Mark. Even from behind the glass the twinkling in his eyes can be seen. He’s well rested– no black circles under his eyes, the excitement shining through, the constant movement of his head, hands, and legs. Most of his face is hidden behind a mask, but Mark knows that it hides a big smile.
He waves excitedly, thumbs going up, as if saying he did a good job. Since he’s still smiling he can’t be there waiting for long, Mark thinks, and he smiles back.
Seeing Donghyuck here where he feels the most comfortable, makes him think back to their teenage years. The both of them clashing at everything black or white, before they found a grey middle ground to work with: their love for music and performing, proving their worth not to others but to themselves, and the way the both of them missed home, despite one’s being closer than the other’s.
His attention is brought back to record the last background voices, to eventually leave the booth for Donghyuck and his beautiful voice. They make eye contact once again, no words are needed to wish the other success or to hear him congratulate him on his good work– a smile, a wink, and the brush of their hands is enough to let their intentions come across the tiny distance between them.
Instead of leaving Mark takes the seat that Donghyuck vacated. Once he’s settled and begins recording, Mark leans back and closes his eyes. It makes him feel weirdly nostalgic, hearing the other sing of a shared youth, a shining night, and bright summers. It takes him back to missing home: tears spilling down his cheeks at airports, sharing rooms with boys that didn’t understand him and his mumbling of words, and pouring his all into dancing and rapping.
It makes him think back about figuring himself and his role out in different groups, recalling late nights spent in practise rooms and learning new things about himself and others, makes him reminisce about learning to rely on someone not himself, and knowing each other like extensions of their own bodies.
He opens his eyes as Donghyuck is being complimented– one of the few ways to get Donghyuck shy and speechless. Knowing the younger like the back of his hand he can count down the seconds till his cheeks turn red, lips getting smaller by his smile and front teeth showing, and the humble words and denial leaving his mouth, voice still a little rough from singing.
Donghyuck looks up at Mark, and Marks feels caught, eyes stuck on his shining eyes, heartbeat thumping in his throat, ears rushing and flushing red, and Mark–
Mark realizes he’ll always have a home in the comfort of knowing Donghyuck.
♪♪
Hanging up the phone on Donghyuck, he can still feel the disbelief flowing through his body. Mark sees the notifications of their group chat coming in, one more excited than the other, screenshots of the same news shared over and over again.
One million albums sold.
He never thought he would see these words next to their names.
There are three knocks on his door and he opens it, expecting it to be one of the older members, maybe with some drinks to congratulate him. Instead, he finds Donghyuck with a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a bag filled with snacks in the other, his brown hair a mess from his fingers going through it, a too big shirt almost leaving his shoulder bare and hiding the shorts underneath it– it looks like his. He opens his door wider to let the younger in, who moves steadily past him into his room, their shoulders brushing.
Mark closes the door behind him. He turns around to find Donghyuck already making himself comfortable on the floor with some pillows and a blanket taken from his bed, looking up at him with an expectant look, as if Mark would turn him down, send him away, deny him his safe place– as if Mark could.
Mark sees the same disbelief reflected in his eyes, the wonder of their accomplishment not faded yet, but tinged with the worry that comes together with new records set.
He sits next to Donghyuck, feet curled under him, takes the bottle out of his hand, and opens it before taking a sip. It’s his favourite brand, not Donghyuck’s.
With their tongues still tied, they divide the bottle and snacks between them. They’re moving closer and closer to each other until there is no space left between Mark’s shoulder and Donghyuck’s head leaning on it, Mark’s waist and Donghyuck’s arm around it, Mark’s left leg and Donghyuck’s right leg thrown over it.
In the room there’s only their silent breathing, their thoughts running circles, words unexpressed but understood in the non-existent places between their bodies.
They both know.
It’s late– bottle empty, snacks eaten, eyes almost falling shut– and Mark stands up first, Donghyuck extending his arm to be helped up. He climbs into Mark’s bed, moving under the blanket and hogging the pillow. Mark doesn’t need it anyway. The light on the side table is turned on, the overhead light off, and Mark takes his place next to Donghyuck.
They’ve shared his bed many times in the past: the day they heard they would debut together, the first night after Donghyuck returned from his injury, when Donghyuck won his first music show without Mark.
An arm over a waist, a cold nose pressed to a neck, legs tangled together. By now they know how to rearrange their limbs to become more comfortable, getting even closer to each other, breaths taken with the beat of their hearts in sync.
This close together Mark is free falling, being thrown into an ocean so big and deep that he almost can’t see the sunlight filtering through the surface, making it harder and harder to stay afloat with his feelings weighing him down and down to the bottom.
The soft glide of smooth legs between his making him lose his sense of orientation in the vast body of water, the little uneven puffs of breath in his neck filling his lungs with salt water, the tightening of the arm around his waist darkening the edges of his vision, almost, not completely making him blind to the body of light and warmth next to him, glowing through the dark surface of the water.
Mark hopes Donghyuck doesn’t hear how the scent of his candylike-shampoo makes his heart beat faster, doesn’t see how their shared warmth makes his ears flush red, doesn’t notice how all his little movements make the butterflies in his belly take flight.
Suddenly he feels how Donghyuck stills completely in his arms before he takes a deep breath. He moves his face aways from the space between Mark’s shoulder and neck, one hand to Mark’s chest and the other to his chin tilting it up, their eyes meeting. In the soft light of the night lamp Mark can almost distinguish all the untold stories reflected in them, the twinkle in them forever present.
The feelings accompanying the little flitterings of light are suddenly so apparent, conspicuous, and Mark marvels how he has missed them all this time.
He doesn’t know who moves first, he only knows that by the first brush of their lips, he feels calm, body relinquishing control to the current dragging him to the shore. The first slide turns to a second, a press to his lower lip turns to a tentative swipe of tongue to an upper lip, a tiny sigh to a soft breathy, hushed moan.
As they break apart their eyes are as always drawn to each other, Donghyuck’s almost completely hidden behind the crescents formed by his wide laugh, Mark’s wide eyed and stunned. Words superfluous to their feelings.
Their arms pull them closer together, not daring to let go, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
They grasp it, tight in their hands, between their intertwined fingers– the sincerity, the bliss, the yearning.
♪♪♪
The waiting room is as chaotic as usual, Mark sees Renjun walking around with a camera, talking about the theme for today's performance, Jaemin is on his phone on one of the many couches, and Donghyuck is preparing his special stage. his voice probably heard from the corridor.
He looks a second time around to make sure there isn’t a member missing. As he finds the rest of the members in a corner playing games, he moves to sit next to Jaemin, getting a bit of rest before the dry rehearsal.
Normally he would join one of the others, playing along or making sure that they don’t annoy the staff too much, this time he’s too tired. He slept late because of an extra recording with NCT127.
He’s surprised Donghyuck is so energetic while he arrived even later than Mark at the dorm, going out to eat with Jungwoo and Taeil after his recording. Though he could’ve expected it, Donghyuck always tries to keep his mood high and stay energetic before performing so he doesn’t look tired on stage.
Mark leans his head back some more on the couch and closes his eyes to get some sleep. He doesn’t get to sleep for long, closing his eyes for maybe 5 minutes, before he’s woken up with a tug on his hand.
He opens his eyes and finds Donghyuck in front of him in his stage make-up, lights behind him shining through the dark strands of his hair– a little halo for the devil he actually is– hand intertwined with his, eyebrows moving up and down to make him stand up. He looks enchanting like this. He lets Donghyuck coax him off the couch, still a little dazed, following the rest towards the stage.
On stage their hands separate to take their positions. With Donghyuck laying in front of him, it’s hard to keep the smile off his face. Every few seconds Donghyuck makes a silly face and Mark tries very hard not to giggle. He looks to the other members, and finds them all relaxed, joking around. None of that tiredness hanging around, all comfortable, well rested and happy to perform again.
When he looks down again, at Donghyuck, he finds him already looking at him, no silly face anymore. There is something contemplative on his face, his eyes going over Mark’s face, searching for an answer that Mark readily gives.
Assurance, adoration, a sense of peacefulness.
Mark identifies the constellations hidden in the moles on his cheeks and throat, the bite he left on his neck yesterday hidden by make-up, and the slightly damaged brown hair fluffy on his forehead.
His gaze finds Donghyuck’s, giving new answers – purpose, longing, an ambition too big to hold in.
As soon as they hear the cue to start with rehearsal, he can see Donghyuck turning to Haechan, his gaze sharpening. Seeing it makes the fire reserved for performances burn brighter in Mark's stomach, making his movement more sharp, his voice louder, and his energy shine brighter.
By the end of the stage Mark feels even more privileged, significant, to share this stage, this dream, with Donghyuck, shining the brightest under the stage lights united.
♪♪♪♪
Mark enters his dorm room to find Donghyuck sitting on his bed with his back to the wall, hunched over his phone, playing a game with the sound on.
He should’ve expected this after he saw Jungwoo and Yuta in the living room, making faces at him and wiggling their eyebrows. As if he and Donghyuck would be up to something if there were other members in the living room– awake enough, at least.
He didn’t dare to think that Donghyuck would come up to his room though, not today.
He closes the door behind him and leans with his whole weight on it, letting his eyes rest on Donghyuck, taking him in.The last couple months they have been working together constantly, seeing each other everyday, but never just the two of them, always someone with them.
Mark moves his eyes along the blemishes on his face, red, the way his nails are bitten to the skin, pink, and how his feet and toes keep moving in his socks, white.
Donghyuck has always been the more impatient one between them, so he waits till he is tired of acting unbothered, stops playing his game, and focuses his attention on him. He doesn’t have to wait long, Donghyuck sighs, sets his phone aside, and then casts a glance at him.
He pats the space next to him, asking him to sit wordlessly, a slight pout on his lips and eyes downcast. Mark takes off his slippers, and slowly sits cross legged next to Donghyuck, eyes lingering on Donghyuck’s feet, not ready to look him in the eyes yet.
The both of them are silent, afraid to break the air that is hanging around them– a blanket of awkward silence filled with a conversation not spoken, concerns not told, and apologies too prideful to give.
He knows that even though Donghyuck is the impatient one, he is the more stubborn one between them. He stays quiet, letting his eyes go from white to pink to red, till their eyes meet again, the colors reflected in Donghyuck’s eyes. The hurt of their fight yesterday is clear and visible.
It makes his heart constrict, the knot in his throat tighten, and the walls he put up since this morning crumble down.
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to make Donghyuck smile again till all his white teeth show, make him blush till his cheeks and ears turn pink, to kiss him till his lips turn red.
Before the words can tumble out of his mouth, Donghyuck holds out his right hand between them, palm up, wiggling his fingers, fingertips inviting. From Donghyuck’s hand, to his shoulder, to his face– a silent peace offering, a slouched posture afraid of rejection, and a tiny smile with earnest eyes.
Mark can breathe again with no constrictions in his chest, the knot in his throat untangled, and the stones for the walls put away.
He takes Donghyuck’s hand and pulls him closer until they’re chest against chest, the younger’s face tucked into his neck, his own hand on the back of his head, and their hearts catching up with each other. Beating to a melody, a message, reserved only for the two of them.
A promise to always return to each other.
♪♪♪♪♪
They’re sitting across each other on Donghyuck’s bed, unmade from when they emerged from it after a nap spent in each other's arms. From this position he has a good view at the pillow creases on Donghyuck’s cheek, his recently dyed pink hair in disarray, and sleepy eyes focused on the instrument on Mark’s lap, a pillow on his own.
Mark plays a few notes, not really stringing a melody together. Having Donghyuck’s eyes on him like this, he’s reminded of the first few times they sat like this. Sitting together playing songs, letting Donghyuck sing the lyrics to his notes. Mark was insecure about his voice then, afraid that Donghyuck's sharp tongue would leave him bleeding from cuts across his heart.
Now he knows the only way that Donghyuck could hurt him is by breaking his heart.
He also knows the easiest way to make Donghyuck sing. He plays the first notes of EXO’s playboy. He looks up to see Donghyuck smiling, his eyes disappearing behind two curves. He hums the first few lines, slowly remembering the lyrics, till he finds his voice and sings, rough and still so pretty. Donghyuck’s voice always sounds beautiful. Mark harmonizes with him on the choruses, revolving back to the old rap verses they performed so many years ago.
He plays the next song, and the next, till Donghyuck stops singing altogether and lays down on his back, arms spread out, and eyes to the ceiling, similar to a starfish.
Mark also stops playing. With the way his feets are moving to an invisible beat, and his fingers wiggling around, he knows Donghyuck is trying to remember something– one of the few times that his tongue is too slow to catch up with his mind.
Donghyuck suddenly sits up, eyes clear and sparkling. Before he can sing the words, Mark already knows and begins to play the chords of their first song ever made together. By the second line Donghyuck’s voice joins his, harmonizing.
They don’t need fancy words, long elaborate confessions or every thought said out loud.
Just by hearing their voices together like this, Mark can imagine them being them for many years from now on, side by side, tied together.
♪
After their promotion cycle ends, Mark makes sure of his promise to take Donghyuck out on a real date, only the two of them.
He’s a little conscious of his surroundings, but Donghyuck won’t let him pull his hand out of the tight hold he has on it. They’re walking on dark streets, their hats and masks hiding them enough from peeking eyes, or so Donghyuck reasons with him.
While they were eating Donghyuck couldn't keep silent– telling the newest gossip surrounding his siblings, about the time he went to Jeju with Jisung and Renjun, the new songs he has been recording with his favourite hyung. Mark had been laughing at the last one, acting offended that he’s replaced by someone sounding like a meme.
Mark also couldn’t keep silent– telling Donghyuck about the latest basketball match he watched with Chenle, the lyrics he has been writing and reviewing with Taeyong for new songs, what his plans are now they have a little more free time. Donghyuck whined and pouted that he should spend it with him only.
They’re walking with full bellies and throats sore from laughing, sharing the familiar silence, a tranquility reserved only for the two of them.
There is something bubbling in Mark’s chest. Something that needs to be said out loud, that he can’t suppress anymore– that he can’t let their eyes, their hands, or their singing voices tell for him anymore.
He thinks about the comfort of knowing someone inside out and still fitting together like puzzle pieces, about shared dreams and shared blankets. He thinks about compromises made, about knowing they will always have each other, about finding a home in someone else’s heart and body, and the safety that comes with it. It all comes to a boiling point.
Mark tugs Donghyuck faster along to their dorm, bypassing the 5th floor and going straight for the 10th, back to his room. Donghyuck doesn’t say a word the whole time, unusually taciturn– no whining about the mess in his room, no banter about how his floor is the better one, no suggestive comments made about the firm way he is being tugged along.
Donghyuck knows– that’s the only explanation to his placidness– knows what Mark wants to say.
And Maybe, definitely, he wants to hear it as desperately as Mark wants to say it.
Safe inside his room, Mark takes Donghyuck’s hands into his, pulling him closer, Donghyuck’s feet stepping between his. Back into their bubble, reserved for just the two of them.
Their eyes meet again, making everything around them unimportant. There’s only this moment and this one certainty.
“I love you.” He whispers in the space between their lips, the quiet broken.
And the only thing he can hear before he leans in to seal his words with a kiss, is a deafening–
“I love you too.”
♪