Work Text:
It was already past 9 p.m when Mark and Chenle finally wrapped up filming their latest video. It had been one of those exhausting but fun shoots—filled with laughter, small flubs, and inside jokes that only the seven of them would ever fully understand. As they packed up, Chenle turned to Mark with an easy grin.
“Hyung,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket, “you should come over for dinner. I made too much food again.”
Mark hesitated for half a second, as he always did. “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”
“Come on, hyung,” Chenle cut him off, rolling his eyes in the affectionate way he reserved just for Mark. “I’m not asking. Let’s go.”
Chenle’s apartment was warm and lived-in, the kind of place that felt safe the second you stepped inside. It smelled like something savory—soy sauce and garlic—and Mark felt his stomach growl in anticipation. They ate together at the small dining table, bickering over who got the last bite of stir-fried beef until Chenle finally shoved it into Mark’s mouth with a laugh.
“I’m way too full anyway,” Chenle said, leaning back in his chair. “I shouldn’t have made so much.”
“You always say that,” Mark teased, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “But hey, thanks for this. It was amazing, as always.”
After dinner, the two of them ended up sprawled on the couch (with Daegal between them), the TV playing quietly in the background. Mark’s head drooped after a while, his exhaustion catching up with him.
Chenle noticed.
Of course. He always noticed.
“You’re not going home this late,” he said firmly and nudged Mark gently with his elbow. “Stay over. I have an extra toothbrush and clothes.”
Mark shook his head, though his eyelids were already heavy. “I can sleep here, on the couch—”
“No, hyung,” Chenle interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll sleep in my bed.”
“What? No way, that’s your bed!” Mark protested, his eyes widening in alarm.
“Exactly,” Chenle replied with a shrug. “And it’s big enough for two people. I’m not letting you sleep on this lumpy couch.”
Mark sighed, knowing better than to argue with him. “Alright, fine.
Mark climbed into the bed, his movements careful, like he didn’t want to intrude. Chenle, meanwhile, slid in without hesitation, tossing the blanket over both of them before lying down on his side.
I mean this wasn’t the first time they'd slept in the same bed. But this time…
It felt different.
It was surprisingly quiet for a while, just the sound of their breathing and the faint hum of the city outside. Mark lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, while Chenle rested on his side, his hand under the pillow and his head as he looked over at Mark.
“Hyung,” Chenle murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost tentative.
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever feel like… you’re too tired to think, but your brain doesn’t stop anyway?”
Mark turned his head to look at Chenle, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I get that all the time. That’s when I usually write stuff down or just… talk to someone.”
Chenle nodded thoughtfully, his hand twitching where it rested under the pillow. “I feel like that right now,” he admitted. “Like my head’s too full.”
Mark’s heart softened. Chenle was so rarely vulnerable. “It’s okay to just let it be full for a while,” he said gently. “You don’t always have to fix it right away.”
Chenle blinked at him, his lashes fluttering. He felt something warm settle in his chest—a kind of comfort he only ever felt around Mark. “Hmm.”
The conversation slowed after that, and Chenle’s responses became shorter and quieter. He was clearly drifting off, his words punctuated by little pauses. Mark shifted slightly, turning toward him and reaching out without thinking, his hand settling on Chenle’s head.
“Go to sleep, baby,” Mark murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The words slipped out so naturally, that he didn’t even notice the way Chenle’s breath hitched at the sound.
Chenle didn’t say anything, but he turned over onto his side, his back facing Mark. It was easier this way—he didn’t have to look at him and risk showing just how much those words meant.
Still, Chenle didn’t miss the comforting weight of Mark’s hand as it moved gently against his hair. The slow, rhythmic motion was soothing, and grounding.
He wanted to stay like this forever. Mark was his safe place after moving to Seoul.
Cocooned in the warmth of Mark’s presence.
When Mark’s hand stilled after a few minutes….
Chenle felt the loss immediately.
A quiet, involuntary whine escaped his throat and he tilted his head upwards.
He didn’t know why.
He froze, but then Mark started moving again, his hand resuming its soft, absentminded strokes.
Chenle felt his cheeks warm. He hadn’t meant to make a sound.
But… maybe he had wanted Mark to notice.
Maybe he wanted Mark to understand how much he needed this—how much he needed him.
Mark didn’t comment on the noise, but his hand lingered a little longer this time, his movements deliberate and patient. It was his way of saying I’m here without words.
And Chenle felt his heart flutter.
Chenle’s breathing evened out soon after, his body sinking into the mattress as sleep finally claimed him. Mark stayed awake for a little while longer, smiling to himself while his hand rested lightly on Chenle’s head.
If Chenle wanted this, Mark would give it to him.
Every time. Without hesitation.