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A cup of hot coffee sits idly beside Mark in his seat’s holder and every now and then, he takes a pleasant sip and basks in the bitterness bursting in his mouth, awakening his taste buds in all the right places.
Mark loves routines and the absolute familiarity that his daily life presents to him. It’s safe and easy, almost mechanic that he can probably juggle all his responsibilities with his eyes closed. His boring alarm would wake him up in cold, lonely mornings, he would shower either half-asleep or like a frenetic teen chasing time if he doesn’t wake up from said alarm—there is no in between—, dress and style himself into perfection like a responsible adult who’s got their shit together would, and then he would forgo breakfast and purchase some expensive coffee down the street.
Although, for a few months now, Mark finds himself significantly bewitched to anomaly—in mornings wherein he would open his eyes to the sun blasting high to his bedroom like an uninvited guest but also a frantic reminder that he’s getting late for work. More importantly, he would wake up to the fiery nape of a man snuggled against his own nose. He would let his mouth gently touch against it and murmur sweet nothings until the other would stuff his face with a pillow, but not without a sleepy giggle. They would kiss each other senseless on the bed, in the kitchen, by the front door. Mark would leave his apartment like a walking mess—mussed hair, undone tie, the threat of possible tardiness up in his ass, but with a sweet temptation in the form of a man occupying the shotgun who’s got his hand high up on Mark’s thigh.
“You know, Kelly loved him,” Donghyuck mutters as he licks sugar off his fingers.
In the car, the sweet smell of freshly-baked goods and powdered sugar wafts through the small space, the culprit being the pale pink-colored box that’s perched perfectly on Donghyuck’s lap. The said box is already almost empty despite Mark has only eaten two pieces. He wonders how the man can stomach the amount of sweetness consumed in so early in the morning.
Mark’s lips quirk upwards. Donghyuck’s talking about the movie they watched last night. He playfully rolls his eyes. “She did, but obviously she did not love him enough.”
He hears an offended gasp from the other which automatically makes him spare Donghyuck a glance, shooting him a condescending smile just to be annoying.
“Mark. You’re a monster,” Donghyuck says finally, ignoring the laugh he lets out in response. “There are no buts, she loved him. Period.”
“Then why did she marry another man?” he counters with a raised brow. “And his dentist on top of that. Ouch.”
“Because she thought he was dead. He was already declared dead by everyone,” the younger argues, fervid. “She couldn’t just wait for him for the rest of her life, especially for a person she didn’t even know would come back for certain. She had her own life to live after him, Mark, and she needed to move on.”
“Damn. Even I couldn’t imagine myself in her shoes. Imagine losing the love of your life and then choosing what’s best for your own self only for them to come back? And then it becomes the biggest regret of your life,” he clicks his tongue, stepping on the pedal gently when he sees a woman walking her dog trying to cross the street.
“I know right!” Donghyuck harrumphs. “Life is so unfair. Humans are merely the subjects to these fatalistic circumstances.”
Donghyuck dramatically sighs before stuffing his face with the remainder of the pastry. He chews silently with a look as if he was Kelly—lost, heartbroken, torn, and someone who needed to make the decision of her life. Mark steals a glance at him, amused and purely adoring, and he brings his cup to his mouth so that he can stifle the laugh bubbling from his throat.
He has never seen Donghyuck so affected by a movie until last night. He started crying when Chuck was standing on her porch, drenched from the rain, and debating whether he should knock on Kelly’s door. His tears were steady the whole reunion scene and Mark just silently held him throughout, not saying anything even when Donghyuck began to soak his shirt with his tears. Even Mark was close to tears himself because it was truly a bittersweet moment between lovers who were separated from an unfortunate circumstance which ultimately decided their separate fates.
After the whole avalanche of emotions, Mark kissed him tenderly and Donghyuck expressed his desire of Mark kissing him under the pouring rain in the middle of the night minus all the regrets, and Mark wouldn’t tell him to come back inside but take him home instead.
“Still, I think she truly loved her husband, nonetheless. She was just… confused when Chuck came back. He was literally the ghost of her past,” Donghyuck says after a while, pensive. His hands are now cradling his own cup of coffee.
Mark hums his agreement. “The kiss in the rain—that was their closure,” he says shortly, and he thinks he doesn’t need more to say. It was simple. “It is all it takes to close even the most painful wounds.”
A hand reaches his thigh in an instant, and Donghyuck’s touch is warm even under the smooth fabric of his slacks, sipping through the material to set his skin sweetly aflame. Mark chances a glance at the younger, and he sees the morning sun reflect through Donghyuck’s eyes, making his irises swim in sunburnt orange and something more brilliant—like the early skies paling against the singular twinkle of a morning star.
“Did you get your closure that day, Mark?” Donghyuck asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Oh, definitely,” Mark nods his head. A smile. “But do you know what’s sweeter than a closure? A new beginning; a second chance. And you gave me that.”
That day was in April. It was spring and although it was midday where the sun was ripe amidst the blanket of clear skies, the air was chilly and perfect for a seat under a large umbrella outside a restaurant.
It was still in the fourth month of the year but Mark felt like he had already went through a whole year’s worth of work, work, and work. He was sitting stiffly in his stiff suit in one of the tables inside, absentmindedly listening to his superior drunkenly drone out stupid stories to their clients who reciprocated as much enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure why he was needed there at all, but he figured a learning experience of expertise never hurt anyone.
He was so bored that his eyes started wandering around the rather expensive restaurant until they landed on someone that literally caught his breath away. There, sitting on one of the tables outside, was his high school crush—Lee Donghyuck.
Now, when he thought of Donghyuck, it was always about longing and never of courage. He was a sophomore the first time he saw him. It was during the initial week of classes, meaning those agonizing mornings wherein the students were forced to line up in the gymnasium to listen to their Principal’s orientation reminders. Mark hated those until a certain boy from the freshmen caught his eye. Donghyuck was never taller than him, even then, and he was never shy either.
He was near the front of their line, and he so happened to turn around to face the boy standing behind him just in time for Mark’s gaze to dart on their section. Donghyuck was boyishly pretty and he wore a boastful smirk as he flashed his clearly newly-bought watch to his friend. Mark’s younger heart skipped a beat at the sight and when it was time to walk back to their classroom, he found himself stealing a glance one last time at the stunning boy.
Donghyuck was so approachable and so likeable and so friendly that it scared him. With the help of Mark’s friends, they became acquainted with each other. Eventually, Donghyuck figured about Mark’s crush on him even though it wasn’t explicitly said—or rather, Mark never confessed. Throughout high school, he silently harbored feelings for the younger, but he could also count in his one hand the number of times they’ve interacted, including in the texts. So suffice to say, his crush on Donghyuck ended just that by the end of high school.
That was Mark’s greatest regret.
As soon as he finished helping his superior hail a cab and making sure he climbed inside safely, he politely bid goodbye to their clients and sprinted back to the restaurant. He stood breathless—and admittedly like a creep—before Donghyuck’s table who was reading a thick book to notice him. He needed to say something, anything, and not just stand there but he was… speechless. Donghyuck was just as pretty, if not more.
Mark casted a shadow over the pages of the book, making the other look up finally.
“Mark Lee?” Donghyuck was stupefied as well, but the lovely corners of his mouth stretched into the most beautiful smile Mark has ever seen on anyone. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“Donghyuck, hi,” he said, and he remembers thinking of falling in love again with his high school crush—but no, not ‘again’, because the feelings of adoration and unadulterated longing he felt for Donghyuck from afar never really went away. It just became dormant, and finally kicked more alive than ever upon seeing the then a boy, now a man once again. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
“Of course not,” Donghyuck hastily replied, covering half of his face with the book to hide the blush creeping high on his cheeks. “Just… will you let me finish this chapter for a sec?”
Mark agreed and ordered a drink of his own. He took occasional sips silently and noticed Donghyuck’s eyes straying now and then from the book to peer at his face. He wasn’t even being subtle about it and Mark wanted to laugh. It was a sweet agony of endurance in holding back his laughter because Donghyuck was checking him out shamelessly while he truly enjoyed his drink in peace.
“What? Do you fancy me in a suit that much?” he joked because he never felt braver than in that moment and because Donghyuck’s focus never again returned on his book. All of a sudden, his outfit didn’t feel suffocating at all.
“Damn. You read me too well, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck clicked his tongue and completely gave up on trying to read the book. He set it on the table and stared openly at Mark, albeit the latter was the breathless one in the end. “Shit. Oh, wow. You’re even more attractive than I can remember.”
“Well, you’re prettier yourself. Always have been,” he smiled, genuine. He had to squint his eyes slightly from the sun.
Donghyuck was flushed but he managed a laugh. “Don’t you think I look like a poser? Pretentiously trying to read an intellectual, thick ass book in the middle of a fancy place but couldn’t understand a single concept.”
“Well, in your defense, all books are intellectual,” Mark laughed.
Everything naturally went into place after that encounter. They didn’t go through that awkward reunion phase as individuals who used to know each other back in high school, or that careful walk-on-ice kind of beginning, but Donghyuck came back into Mark’s life irrepressibly, straightforward and natural and tenacious, like Donghyuck was. They built bridges that were meant to be demolished later on, so that there was no way back, only forward.
And perhaps, that was Mark’s biggest triumph.
Mark stops under a streetlight, drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel.
“Although, I got to ask, what idiot names a volleyball Wilson?” he asks, almost incredulous, and it earns a chortle from Donghyuck. “Literally there are millions of other names much better than a lousy Wilson.”
“For one, he got it from the manufacturer’s name,” Donghyuck says, giggling. “And second, if you are so confident, then give me a name that’s supposedly much better?”
“Err, like Spike?” he bites his lip in an attempt not to laugh. “You know, ‘cause it’s a volleyball?” It sounds lame even to his own ears. “Then he would be like Spike! Spike! I’m sorry, Spike!” he continues for good measure, doing his best to mimic Chuck Noland’s voice. It doesn’t come close.
Donghyuck laughs from the passenger seat and the sound is almost tangible that it fills the confines of Mark’s car, crawling all the way to his fingertips so that they tingle against the steering wheel. It brings a tickle to Mark’s chest—beneath his skin and within his heart—and he silently vibrates with a laugh of his own. Silent happiness. He observes as Donghyuck’s body convulses with laughter, adores the way his face contorts merrily and the back of his head hits the cushion rather ungracefully but his hands remain gentle around his coffee. Silent love.
At once, peace spills all over Mark.
“Goodness. Not a single funny bone in you, Mark,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disappointment, as if he wasn’t laughing just now. “And that name is worse, I’ll have you know.”
“Hey, I had a childhood dog that was named the same. I’m actually offended,” he pouts.
He begins to maneuver the vehicle into the underground parking lot of the studio where Donghyuck works in as a manager on one of the departments. Quite frankly, Mark is envious of their uniform system—or the lack, thereof. Donghyuck doesn’t need to wear rigid suits or be whole uptight and stringent about his daily attire. Earlier that morning, he stole one of Mark’s favorite shirts that look two sizes too big for him and paired it with a baggy sweatpants like it was the easiest decision in the world.
“You’re wearing that to work?” he asked.
Donghyuck stood in front of the full-body mirror as he slipped on Mark’s shirt, and the gesture made the chain around his waist dangerously glisten, and he thought about how his palms had repeatedly brushed against the piece of jewelry numerous times.
Donghyuck just laughed, delightful and saccharine in disparity to the pale early morning. “I am my own boss, Mark. Besides, nobody gives a fuck in there.” His cussing was just as lovely. Oh dear.
Though, Mark religiously thinks he would look dashing in anything, anyway, and especially without anything.
The car comes to a complete halt in one of the parking spaces but Donghyuck doesn’t make a move to come out.
“Thanks for the ride, Markie,” he says, just like every time Mark gives him a ride to and from work, and honestly, Mark is more endeared each time. He doesn’t need to keep saying it because it’s not like it’s a duty in Mark’s part, he’s totally doing it out of free will and because he wants to spend more time with him. Well, since technically they’re not official yet, Donghyuck probably sees it as something he owes to the older. Either way, Mark needs to act quick and ask Donghyuck real soon if he wants to finally put a label into their relationship like how Mark badly wants to.
“Come here, please,” Mark breathes out and in no time, Donghyuck slips from his seat to straddle him.
Their mouths meet in a soppy kiss, gentle but with enough emphasis to curl their fingertips and for Donghyuck to grip on his nape a little tighter. Donghyuck is resolved on carving a hole in Mark’s life that of a shape of him and Mark lets him—loves that Donghyuck is there to rupture and to break through unapologetically, to paint new colors and introduce things that startle Mark in ways that leave him breathless.
The kiss is sweet and slow because they have all the time in the world. Their lips relax against one another, moving lazily and with intention, until Donghyuck’s lips slightly part for air but Mark is quick to suck into his mouth, forcing him to breathe heavily against the older’s nose. Mark feels him chuckle into his own mouth and he squeezes the sides of Donghyuck’s thighs in admonition. Eventually, Mark begins to laugh as well, causing him to break off the kiss completely.
“Way to ruin the moment, Donghyuck.”
Donghyuck smiles, running his fingers on Mark’s bangs to fix it back. “What? You were trying to steal my air, I still have to go to work, you know.”
Mark kisses the bridge of his nose as an apology while his hand opens the door to the driver’s seat. Donghyuck climbs out of the vehicle, looking timid all of a sudden.
“You’ll come pick me up later, won’t you?”
“Of course, Donghyuck. I will come.” Mark briefly brushes their hands together. It’s enough to relay his message.
“Good. I’ll see you later, then!” Donghyuck beams before he starts walking to the entrance with a skip in his steps. Mark waits until he’s safely inside and then he’s off to his own work.
Donghyuck keeps his shirt; Mark keeps to his words.