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“Mark,” a voice calls out to him, dragging out the ‘k’ in his name. “Your soulmate has arrived!”
Mark’s eyes stay glued to his phone, only humming in acknowledgment. He is currently lying on his bed, one leg crossed over the other, with his back pressed against the headboard. And frankly, the blonde is extremely comfortable in this position. Too comfortable to get up and jump for joy or whatever exaggerated welcoming Haechan might have been expecting.
After a hectic month with schedules filling up his calendar left and right, could anyone really blame Mark for not wanting to move a single inch of his muscles for once? Surely the younger male, out of all people, could see where he was coming from. After all, they’ve been seeing each other almost every single day due to being members of, both, NCT DREAM and NCT 127. Hell, Mark surprised himself for even calling Haechan over in the first place. He would’ve thought the two of them would need a break from each other, but no. They were basically attached at the hip and a week— even a day— without the other felt like a lifetime. As much as Mark hates to admit it out loud, a part of him always calls for Haechan. And today wasn’t any different.
“Ah, giving me the cold shoulder I see,” Haechan points out, slightly pouting. He sets aside two plastic bags filled with, what Mark assumes to be the ingredients for buddae-jiggae, on the blonde’s study desk and shrugs off his thick, green coat, tossing it over Mark’s chair. “I’ll forgive you today since you begged for me to come over.”
Mark rolls his eyes, but a small smile can’t help from escape his lips. “Hey, don’t leave your stuff over there, it’s gonna ruin the wood,” he complains.
The younger male gives him a blank-faced stare, eyes dark and dull. Mark’s facade cracks, bursting into small giggles as he bounces his feet against the mattress. Haechan’s shoulders sink and he lets out a big groan, head thrown back and jaw pointed towards the ceiling, before reluctantly putting the grocery bags on the ground. Despite having a rebellious personality with his members, he always seems to follow their orders in the end.
“You,” Haechan starts, “You always have something to say when it’s not about me.”
The brunette, then, leaps onto the bed, throwing his body weight onto Mark’s who feels the wind get knocked out of him. Haechan splays himself across the other male, head nuzzled against the crook of his neck and hands snaking up to his waist. Mark manages to somewhat embrace him with one arm laid out, phone in hand, and the other pounding at Haechan’s back to signal for him to get off. Haechan whines in agony slightly kicking his feet against Mark’s and Mark, in one fell swoop, tosses him to the other side of the bed.
He continues scrolling on his phone, but Haechan isn’t done with him yet. He goes back in for another attempt, this time wrapping one leg and one arm over Mark’s body to cage him in and lean his head on Mark’s shoulder. Mark, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance, gives in to the younger male’s antics seeing as he came all this way for him in the first place.
It’s comfortable in the shared silence. With Haechan quietly watching as Mark scrolls through TikTok, occasionally chuckling at a video that pops up. And Mark likes it like this. It’s safe— “homey”, even, as Haechan’s warmth spreads onto Mark, somewhat fending off Seoul’s freezing temperature.
Mark hears himself swallow; the quiet slowly nibbling away at his thoughts. It’s rare to see Haechan calm like this— when he reverts back into his shell and becomes unreadable. Unreadable to everyone but Mark, of course. It’s a side that catches most people off guard. A side that only he gets to see as the walls come undone. Secretly, some fucked up part of him enjoys the fact that he’s the only person part of something so special. Almost like it’s a gift that Haechan presents to Mark for being by his side for so long. After spending twelve years with each other, it’s no surprise that they’ve become each other's “person” and truthfully, Mark can’t see anyone else who could fill in that position.
He feels Haechan’s heartbeat whisper against his arm; a slow, soft beat juxtaposing his own rapid pulse. With all of the silence that surrounds them, Mark worries that his chest is as clear as day in Haechan’s ear. His sweaty palm claws at his shorts, the other hand’s grip tightening around his phone as he tries to stay calm, but, fuck, it’s so hard with Haechan this close to him.
Usually, he wouldn’t have a problem with the members being so affectionate towards him, yet when it comes to Haechan, it’s always a different story. Because they know each other inside and out. Because Haechan has witnessed Mark at his best and worst moments. Just because it’s Haechan. Haechan. That word seems to ring in his head loudly and violently, unraveling the older boy with whatever and all that he does. Despite wanting to run away, to escape the thoughts that crawl into the folds of his brain— Mark stays still. For this— whatever it is that they’re doing right now— is a very rare experience for the two best friends and Mark wants to swallow up every second of it.
“Why’d you call me over anyways?” Haechan finally speaks up, pulling Mark out of his trance. Haechan tilts his head to look up at Mark, even though he doesn’t need to, as if to gauge his reaction.
Mark gulps.
“What, I can’t ask to hang out with you?” he retorts, a little too defensively.
“Hang out?” Haechan questions. “More like, ‘forcing me to cook for you because you’re too lazy’.”
Mark chuckles. “You caught me.”
At that, Haechan pinches his waist, a smug smirk tugging on his lips as Mark squeals in pain. The younger male gets up and shifts his bodyweight onto Mark’s pelvis, fully straddling the blonde. Before alarms can start going off in Mark’s head, Haechan’s hands twist and nip at his waist and torso with Mark instinctively trying to wriggle out of it. He lets out a loud yelp, begging for mercy at the hands of Haechan in between laughs and the neighbors can probably hear it, but Mark is too busy fighting for his life to even care.
The two boys wrestle back and forth for a little longer before Mark finally gives up, body going limp against the soft mattress. Haechan’s giggles simmer into slow, rhythmic chuckles and he settles on staring at Mark with his eyes wide and filled with something along the lines of endearment that Mark can’t help but melt under. Mark’s hands are still wrapped around Haechan’s in order to prevent him from any more torture he has planned and he feels the sweat, slick, against their palms.
Mark avoids making eye contact with Haechan, knowing he might burst from embarrassment as the reality of this entire situation hits him. Haechan is still on top of Mark, thighs clasping his own shut and both breathing heavily, chests moving in sync.
In one swift movement, Haechan intertwines his fingers with Mark’s and plants their hands on the sides of the blonde’s face. And this time, Mark really is trapped, unable to wrestle out of the younger’s grip. Since when did Haechan get this strong?
“Isn’t this kind of romantic?” Haechan whispers, leaning in as his hot breath tickles at Mark’s ear. “You, pinned up like this, and me, a handsome young man, staring deep into your soul. The fans would kill for a chance like this.”
Mark tosses his head to the side, his slight bangs covering his eyes and, hopefully, his blushing cheeks. “What are you saying right now…” he trails off.
The sentence doesn’t surprise Mark. In fact, he’s used to situations like these where Haechan just teases and teases and teases. But still, a part of him screams to escape the awkwardness that sparks between the two. Because there is a line they cannot cross. A line that Mark refuses to even acknowledge and yet, it seems like Haechan is ready to tear it up at any second.
“Ugh, hyung is so cute I just want to kiss you until you can’t breathe,” Haechan coos, squeezing at Mark’s fingers.
Quickly, Haechan pecks Mark on the cheek and Mark doesn’t stop him or make a fuss (the boy had more than enough time to see it coming). Which is weird because he usually would. And Mark knows it’s weird because even Haechan points it out.
The younger male cocks his head, brown bangs tussling to the side as he pulls away to get a good look at Mark. “You’re just gonna… let me kiss you?” he blinks in disbelief.
Mark doesn’t say a word because right now, all he wants to do is dig his own grave and let Haechan bury him. Because if it’s Haechan— as long as it’s Haechan— he would gladly let him do whatever he wants.
The pressure of Haechan’s kiss blooms on his cheek and Mark is unable to contain himself. He doesn’t know why he’s acting like this. Like a middle school boy who just got kissed by his first real crush. Because he should be disgusted. Throw some kind of fit. Do something— anything — in this situation. Not because they’re both boys, but because it’s Haechan. His teammate, his best friend, his constant. Instead, Mark just lies there pathetically, leaving all the power in Haechan’s hands.
He glances at Haechan from his peripheral view and sees the brunette simply gazing at him with a blank expression, but Mark knows the gears are turning in his head. Haechan’s eyes flicker back and forth between his eyes and lips and Mark feels himself shrink in his own skin. The younger boy readjusts himself on top of Mark, back hunched over and mouth hovering just above Mark’s ear.
“Don’t run away hyung,” Haechan whispers and it comes out as a low rasp.
“Wha—”
Mark turns his head to face Haechan when he is met with a pair of lips gently pressed against his own. They’re soft and fit perfectly almost as if Haechan’s lips were carved to slot themselves with Mark’s. Mark squeezes his eyes shut, allowing himself to be completely and totally lost in the kiss. Just as he is about to move his own, Haechan pulls away, but it’s slow and his lips linger.
Haechan’s eyes slowly look up to meet Mark’s and they both stare at each other in— shock? No. It was more like a look of awe— captivation— as if a dream of theirs had finally come true. Now, a sort of tension hangs in the air with both boys refusing to tear their eyes off of each other— like everything could end in the blink of an eye. It’s no longer a joke. The line that they both treaded very carefully on has finally been crossed.
Mark has never seen Haechan look so flustered, but he’s starting to learn that he likes it. As Haechan lets go of his grip on Mark, hands slowly sliding off and resting on Mark’s heaving chest, Mark, swiftly and without thinking, pulls him back in like it’s second nature to him— and it just might be. He grabs him by the neck and gently tugs down on him, engulfing Haechan whole.
Their lips clash together once more, but this time it’s more desperate— more rough. He licks Haechan’s bottom lip before sucking on it and Haechan reciprocates, hands twisting the sides of Mark’s sweatshirt. Mark sits up as they continue to kiss, grabbing Haechan by the thighs and pulling him in closer until their pelvises are flushed against each other. The younger male sneaks his hands onto Mark’s shoulders, then his neck, before they finally settle on his hair, lightly tugging at it as the kiss gets deeper.
Being an idol and everything, Mark’s never really had the time to go on dates or practice kissing (unless he counts his first kiss with Haechan). And he can tell that it’s Haechan’s first time properly making out with someone as well, seeing how their teeth keep bumping into each other. It’s all too messy and all too fast for Mark to comprehend but he lets it play out. Because who is Mark to deny Haechan of what he wants? Call it an excuse— a lame line of thought— but Mark doesn’t care. He’s been holding on to these bubbling feelings for Haechan that he can’t quite put a name on and he doesn’t plan on stopping.
Mark licks the inside of Haechan’s mouth, the brunette humming in satisfaction. It’s addicting. And Mark is drowning in his own dizziness as he feels Haechan all over him. Mark is hungry for more, gripping and pulling on Haechan’s jeans to get him as close as physically possible. He slides his tongue against Haechan’s, sucking on it and swallowing the spit that accumulates between the two of them.
And fuck. Fuck, does it feel good.
Haechan slips his hands from Mark’s hair and scrambles to find the hem of his shirt, eyes still closed and mouth glued to Mark’s. He forcefully pushes Mark down, the older boy landing on the mattress with a creaked thud. Haechan lifts Mark’s shirt up, exposing his light abs and smooth stomach. He trails his fingers up to his chest, lightly grazing his thumb over the flushed skin, and then back down to the divet right below his hip bone. Mark shivers under his touch, breaths getting quicker by the second. He grabs Haechan by the buckle of his belt and pulls him in closer, friction lighting up between their lower bodies.
He hears Haechan groan in his ear and it stirs something in Mark that makes him see red. Mark snakes his hands under Haechan’s shirt, fingers roaming over, and pressing, the bumps of his ribcage causing Haechan to fold from the unfamiliar touches.
“Hyung,” Haechan moans shakily, nails digging into Mark’s skin.
God, he loves it when Haechan calls him that. Especially when he’s flushed and bothered under Mark like this. Almost like he’s managed to tame some sort of wild beast, Mark revels over the quiet accomplishment.
Haechan pulls away, eyes hooded and piercing through Mark. He yanks his shirt off, revealing his soft, slightly defined stomach and bare chest for Mark to stare at. And, oh, does Mark completely surrender himself to the scene in front of him, silently wishing he could capture a picture to remember this moment forever. Haechan leans back in, connecting their lips together and pushing his tongue into Mark’s, which he readily welcomes.
Mark has never been one to ask for much— he’s the kind of guy to roll with the punches or whatever else he is given. But this moment, right here, is the first time he has ever felt greedy for something. For more. For Haechan. And Mark knows they should stop. Before they take it too far— before Mark takes it too far. Not because he wants to, but because he has to for the sake of the team and their reputation. To salvage the life that Haechan has worked so hard for. And for someone like him to destroy it in less than ten minutes— how could Mark ever forgive himself? They’ve already stomped all over the line between them, but Mark thinks it’s still salvageable to undo the mess they’ve created. To stop before they’ve turned into something that can’t come undone.
Mark finally finds the strength to pull away, jaw clenched and eyes shut tight. He knows Haechan will be disappointed and he can’t bear to look at his face when the words spill out. But Haechan must know what’s at risk here for them. For himself. And just as Mark is about to say the words, the younger male beats him to it.
“You’re scared, huh?” he says, almost in a whisper— eyes lowered and lips shining from the saliva they’ve exchanged. “I know. I am too.”
And it breaks Mark to hear Haechan sound so defeated. In all of the 12 years that he’s known Haechan, Mark has never, once, seen him crack under pressure or falter. The only thing he wants to do is embrace the younger boy and utter his worries away. But Mark isn’t God. He can’t turn the odds in their favor. He’s only able to control what’s right in front of him.
Haechan rests his head on Mark’s shoulder, hands gripping both arms tightly as if Mark might disappear for good if he lets go. “Hyung. Mark hyung,” Haechan mutters to himself almost like he’s casting a spell that bounds them together forever.
“I’m here, Donghyuck,” Mark replies, placing a hand on the small of his back. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want this so bad. You— us— you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
Mark chews his bottom lip, trying to choke back the cry that forms in the back of his throat. It’s a sad sight to see, with Haechan’s eyes fluttering shut to hold back tears and Mark’s tiny, yet ultimately useless, pats on his back. Their first time with each other left to nothing but a sense of hopelessness that hangs around their necks. A feeling that they’ve known all too well over the years— nothing like this, however. It’s a suffocating kind of pain that slowly tugs them away from each other, both choking on a grip that renders them helpless.
Yet Mark still wants to try. He still wants to hold on to the hope that they can exist. In a world filled with definitions and explanations, Mark wants to speak their impossibility into existence. Even if it’s something just the two of them know about, that would be enough for him. Because as long as Haechan is somewhere— somehow— a part of his life in one way or another, he knows that he is already asking for too much. For a plausible paradox. For a life filled with shared laughter and endless bickering. It’s a future that Mark is comfortable with— a future that beats in his heart like a second drum, but louder and bigger than his own.
Mark’s hand cups Haechan’s face, thumb brushing against his cheek. Haechan softens under the touch, seeking comfort in the sliver of warmth that radiates from his palm. “I don’t care about anything else,” he smiles, “If it’s you, we can try. I’d be more than ready to.”
Haechan gathers the courage to meet his eyes. “Even with everything else?”
Mark chuckles, nodding. “What did I tell you? We’re the strongest duo, aren’t we?”
And like a breath of fresh air, Haechan finally, finally smiles, eyes forming slight crescents.
“Did I ever tell you how corny you are?” he jokes, voice faint, but somehow charged with strength.
“Shut up,” Mark whispers, pulling Haechan back in for a kiss. And Haechan, without hesitation, without even a stutter, reciprocates as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.