Chapter Text
Mark Lee has always been pretty ordinary… And yet-- for a reason he doesn’t understand-- people always end up involved with him. He doesn’t get time alone. Given the fact that, quite ironically, he likes being alone.
Sure, he’s got two good [read as: annoying] friends, but his laptop is his only real friend. It doesn’t ask for much, just a proper charging every now and then. Plus, it’s very quiet. Always listens to him, never judges him when he fanboys on social media.
Mark might be a little crazy.
Though that doesn’t stop him from liking his laptop more than people most of the time-- all the time.
Besides, his laptop is more useful than a person. It has internet, microsoft, and his favorite fanfic site ArchiveforFics. (He’s a writer. Porcelain is his newest. Pretty popular. No biggie.) People don’t understand him when he accidently closes documents without saving his chapters. Or forgets to update his work or reply to comments. People aren’t there during the hours he stays up writing. His laptop is always there for him. He gets kind of lost in the hours with it and there are times he doesn’t realize how tired he is until he notices it’s nearly 8 in the morning.
And last night was one of those times.
It was 7:30am when Mark’s roommate, Park “Little Shit of the Century” Jisung, yanks his laptop off his lap and shuts it.
“Okay,” Mark stands from his bed, wobbling a little since his foot’s been asleep for the past 4 hours and he really has to piss, but he’ll deal with that later. “What the hell?”
Jisung only snickers and stuffs the device up the front of his shirt, “You know what your problem is?”
“Give me my laptop.”
“No one reads anymore,” he continues, like Mark never spoke at all. “Why don’t you try audiobooks? Now there’s an idea!”
“Give. Now.”
“You can’t even speak properly. How are we gonna make this audiobook thing work?” Mark grabs for the closest thing in his reach, which happens to be a sock since he hasn’t done his laundry in a week or two so whatever, and holds it towards Jisung.
“Don’t make me use this!”
Jisung laughs, a really, really annoying laugh, “That’s a sock!”
“Park Jisung!”
“That’s a sock!”
“It smells though,” and like the dumbass Mark won’t admit he is, he sniffs it. “Oh sh--… bad idea.”
“You’re an idiot,” Jisung tosses the laptop on Mark’s bed, “Time for school.”
📖
“I really hate chemistry…” Mark drones, flipping the hood of his jacket up, covering his messy bed head. He’s spent the last hour thirty minutes in lecture trying not to fall out cold or drool all over the desk or snore too loud. To put it simply, he’s sleepy and he hates chemistry. “Like really,” Yeri only continues eating her choco pie, eyes scanning the canteen.
“Say, have you seen Jisung?” She says, of course, not paying any attention to Mark because pfft who would.
“Maybe he slipped in the toilet and flushed himself. He’s dumb enough,” she shakes her head at Mark disapprovingly.
“That’s not very nice.”
“Life isn’t too nice either, Yer.”
It’s literally every day that Mark is like this. Snappy. Or a ‘piss off’ as Jisung likes to call it. But today he just seems… abnormally grouchy. Like he woke up to a bed full of pinecones or like he found out he just used his last stick of deodorant. Yeri sets down her pie for this one.
“Is something bothering you, Markie?”
“You mean that?”
“Uh… yes?”
“Then this is bothering me,” Yeri blinks and suddenly there’s a laptop on the table, open and facing her. “Read that. Be honest.”
“SPOILERS!??” Yeri shrieks, “No! No, I’m not reading this!” She turns away, folding her arms.
“Please, Yer?” Mark whines, rocking the table. “Aren’t you OnYourMark’s biggest fan??” Yeri makes the mistake at peeking at Mark’s pouting and gives in.
“Fine!” she pulls the laptop closer, “But I’m not reading all of this. I’ll read when you post the chapter.”
“Whatever. Just look.”
“Shush. ’Ten is stuck. He doesn’t know whether he should help Johnny or run. The Reserves are coming and if he doesn’t leave, he’ll be killed. But if they catch Johnny, he’ll be killed too. It’s either save the human or save himself. ‘Just go!’ Johnny yells, desperately attempting to unhook the trap around his ankle, ‘Please, Ten!’ ‘John--‘ Ten freezes at the gun suddenly being pointed at him. Johnny’s mouth downturns to a frown and hurt flashes across his eyes, but he doesn’t lower the weapon, ‘Go now or I’ll shatter you mysel-- ’ I CANT READ ANYMORE!”
“Yeri!”
Yeri shuts the laptop and grabs Mark’s hands, “You have magic fingers. Everything you write is gold,” Mark pouts and takes his hands away.
“But I’m stumped.”
“You told me to be honest?”
“Well, yeah b--”
“And honestly, I can’t help you.”
Mark scoffs and snatches the laptop back, “I’m blocking your account.”
“Now you wait just one secon-!” Yeri is cut off by Jisung running into the cafeteria and jumping onto the table in front of Mark and sitting cross legged.
“Markie, we’re getting a new roommate.”
Mark rubs his eyes tiredly.
F“First of all,” he grumbles, glaring up at Jisung’s happy face, “get off the table.” He climbs down and sits next to Yeri, “Second, you’re not allowed to call me that.”
“But, Markie--”
“Nope. Shh. Third of all, what do you mean ‘new roommate’?” Jisung only smiles at his best friend.
“We’re the only place with a free bed and space for his stuff. This guy needs a new dorm.”
“What’s wrong with his?” Yeri says, trying to feel in the loop.
“It’s haunted.” Jisung says with a straight face, he can already tell Yeri fell for it.
“Oh, really?” Mark asks. His roommate nods, “Okay. Now tell us the real reason.”
“Hmm, you’re no fun. The guy’s room flooded. Bad pipes. He’ll be with us ‘til it’s fixed.”
“Great…”
“And he’s coming for dinner.”
“Even greater.”
“And the spare bed is in your room, so he’s your responsibility.”
“Wonderful.”
📖
Their new roommate came for dinner, like Jisung said. Mark doesn’t leave his room. He stays in bed, writing of course, duh. The only thing that lets him know the new guy had come, was Jisung’s muffled voice through his bedroom door.
“I’m Jisung. It’s nice to meet you. You’re a lot shorter than I thought you’d be. You’re like… super tiny.” Mark winces. Great first impression.
“Donghyuck.” the guy replies. His voice was pretty. Like, really pretty. Maybe even Renjun‑in‑psych‑class pretty, and Renjun is two apples tall. Is Donghyuck really that tiny or is Jisung just being himself… making everyone around him feel short.
“Are those all your boxes, Donghyuck?”
“Yeah.”
“Great, I didn’t feel like carrying anything. MARK, YOUR ROOMMATE’S HERE!!”
“Yay!” He yells back, “I’m tingling with excitement!”
“What a grouch… At times like this you can only ignore his sass, but admire that ass.” Mark face palms and plots Jisung’s death.
“E-excuse me?” Donghyuyck asks.
“It’s something special, and it’s literally his only good quality. You’ll see.” There’s an awkward silence, except for Mark banging his head on his laptop. “Anyway, I’m gonna go order dinner. It’s the second door on your left.”
“Thanks…” Shuffling sounds came from outside the door, before the guy comes through, carrying two boxes stacked to his chin. He’s… not tiny. Not tiny at all. He’s tall, actually about Mark’s height, but with legs that go on for three business days.
He drops the boxes onto the empty desk and pants dramatically. “No, no. Don’t get up. I got it.”
“Kay,” Mark mutters, typing quickly, eyes not leaving his screen.
“You’re Mark, huh?” Donghyuck asked, Mark only nods. “Cool. Talk much?”
“Not much.”
“Even better,” Mark stops writing and finally looks at Donghyuck properly, nearly toppling off his bed.
This guy was kind of… gorgeous. It looks like he takes care of himself… He looks soft (for lack of a better word) and tan with a youthful face and that was cute. He had curly black hair resting over a pair of finely arched brows, which was cute. Square clear-framed glasses perched on a rounded nose, wow so cute. And plush and fucking glossed lips, which weren’t very cute… more dangerous and Mark felt like he was magnetized to them for some reason. Why am I staring at his mouth…
Mark’s breath stutters. He looks away too fast, like a guilty man.
Donghyuck smiles like he noticed.
“Lemme set some ground rules,” he says, stepping closer, close enough that Mark can smell something warm and sweet on him. Vanilla? Honey? Something unfair. “Don’t come over on my side unless I say it’s cool. Don’t touch me unless I say it’s cool. Don’t touch my cellphone, it’s my baby. Please don’t use my soaps. I’m very particular about how I smell and don’t want other people to smell like me, it’s weird. And don’t be a prude. I sleep pants-less. Also don’t be a perv. I sleep pants-less. Any questions?”
Donghyuck said all of this while smiling. Smiling like half his belongings weren’t floating in 4ft of water as we speak. Eyebrows twitching slightly, like it’s hurting him to look happy for so long. He’s fluffy and evil.
Mark feels pissed, and a little intimidated, about Donghyuck coming in his room and ordering him around, setting rules when he should be the one setting them.
“No. But I have rules of my own.”
Donghyuck stops smiling then, “Enlighten me.”
Mark purses his lips in thought, “Don’t play any music out loud and don’t bring any food in here unless you plan on vacuuming. Don’t talk to me when I’m typing; I hate being distracted from my writing. I don’t necessarily like sharing, so don’t try to borrow anything. And same for you, don’t be a prude or a perv, I sleep shirtless. Any questions?”
Donghyuck smirks and sits down on his empty bed, “I like your style, Mark.”
Mark doesn’t know why he feels like he somehow tamed a beast, or why he feels like he had been tamed, but he kinda likes the feeling. And if Donghyuck’s gaze lingers for a second longer than necessary, he pretends its okay.
He thinks he’ll probably like rooming with Donghyuck.
An hour and a half later, Donghyuck crawls from under the bed, holding a sock up and immediately tossing it away after getting a whiff of it, “Yuck. Ever heard of a washing machine, Mark?”
“I have,” Mark says, laying on his back with his head hanging off the edge of his bed, just watching Donghyuck organize his stuff, “Often, but not recently.”
“Gross,” the other grimaces, “Your socks, they kind of… smell.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna stuff em in Jisung’s pillow case tomorrow,” Donghyuck turns around to look at Mark, eyes becoming more serious by the second.
“He called me short.”
“I heard,” Mark leans up and takes off the sock he’s wearing, smelling it and gagging slightly, “What’s it to my socks?” Mark watches Donghyuck take off his own sock and give it a sniff, making the kind of face you do when you pass a garbage can, then chuckling darkly.
“I’ll help you. I’ve got a score to settle.”
Mark feels scared by the evil glint in Donghyuck’s eyes. Scared and somehow charmed. And maybe a little too aware of how close Donghyuck is now, crouched beside his bed, eyes bright and sharp.
“Sweet,” Mark says, voice embarrassingly soft.
Yes, Mark thinks he’ll like rooming with Donghyuck very much.
📖
The sound of something hard and metallic falling woke Mark up. Squinting and feeling extremely pissed because it’s Saturday and why are people awake, he sits up and sees Jisung and Donghyuck looking at him guiltily.
“Sorry,” Donghyuck immediately says, “It was an accident. Go back to sleep,” Jisung scoffs and leans over to pick up the wall clock that fell. It reads 1:34 pm.
“Sleeping? He almost never does that. Always tip-tapping on his laptop,” Jisung shoves the clock in Donghyuck’s arms, ignoring the glare, and shuffles over to the edge of Mark’s bed, “Whatcha plan on doing today?”
Mark looks up at Donghyuck and smiles a little, then back to Jisung and gags, “Just writing.”
“Told ya,” Jisung grabs the clock again, and stands on a stool in another, who knows how many, attempt to hang it, “I’ve been rooming with him for two years. Known him for longer. He never stops. Always writing those stories of his.”
“Stories?” Donghyuck perks up and walks a bit closer to Mark’s bed, “Like novels? Creative writing?”
“…yeah.” Mark hesitates. Fanfiction. But close enough.
“That’s cool.”
Mark’s cheeks flush at the compliment, “Thanks…”
“So what’s this story about, Mark?”
Donghyuck looks genuinely interested and it’s something Mark’s never seen before, well besides Yeri, but she doesn’t count. Donghyuck’s not a faceless name on his fanfic account or Yeri, he’s him. Mark feels like he might be ruining something, but takes a deep breath anyway.
“The story’s about our world 100 years in the future,” the two boys suddenly stop what they’re doing and take a seat cross-legged on the floor at the side of Mark’s bed, looking up at him expectantly. He sighs, “Sung, really? You too?”
“What? You haven’t told me about your new one yet. Go on.”
Donghyuck nods in agreement.
“Fine,” he clears his throat, “It’s about Earth 100 years from now. And an ongoing war with another planet called Porcia. A prince from Porcia is sent to Earth to try to communicate with the Earth king about a treaty to end the war, but his ship is shot out of the sky and he crashes.”
“…damn,” Jisung mumbles to Donghyuck.
“He wakes up later in an old cabin somewhere in the forest and there’s a man piecing together his arm.”
“Wait,” Donghyuck interrupts, “Piecing together?”
“Everyone on Porcia is made of porcelain. So, the Prince stays with the man until he can figure out how to get to the Earth King without being shattered to pieces by the warbots called the Reserves that were bred to kill Porcians. They end up traveling together, on the run.”
“That’s… wow. Interesting.” Donghyuck breathes out.
Jisung nods, “It sounds better than the last few I read over Yeri’s shoulder, Markie.” Mark ignores the nickname, only because he’s shocked that Park Jisung just sort of complimented one of his fics. He usually doesn’t, “I like it.”
“I like it too,” Donghyuck’s smile lit up his face, “Do people read this?”
“A… a fair few,” He lies and it’s expected. How could he tell his new roommate that he writes JohnTen fic? It had always been Jisung who’d let people know without his permission, mind you. It was a nice thing to have off of your chest but, Donghyuck … would he accept it? Would he think Mark’s screwed up? He’d most likely see Donghyuck every day. That’s not something he’d like hanging over him like a dead goose.
“Only a few?” Jisung almost looks disappointed, but Mark can’t really tell, “I can see this one being really popular, Markie. Like that ITZY one Yeri made me read. Has she made you read it?”
“No…”
“It was great. I’m disgusted with you.”
“Well, you’ve always disgusted me.”
📖
It wasn’t long before Jisung left the dorm at around 3:20pm, carrying out two bags of marshmallows, and blowing a kiss at Mark. Mark grimaced inwardly and sprawled himself out on their two seated, dingy living room couch (courtesy of his dad).
The sound of tapping was the only sound heard until Donghyuck clears his throat. Mark looks up from the screen and Donghyuck, who was dressed like he was leaving, smiles hesitantly.
“Hey uh, Mark…”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going out soon, but I was wondering if uh…” Mark sighs and looks away again to type.
“I can’t go with you.”
“No, I was going to ask if--”
“I can’t lend you anything either,” He hears a sigh, an irritated sigh, and footsteps. He looks up again when a light shadow casts over him. Donghyuck is looking down at him with a glare that could melt.
“Will you just shut up and listen to me.”
“Alright.”
“Beautiful,” Donghyuck says with a smile that crosses between completely adorable and very creepy. “I want to hear more of your story. Can I?”
“…Really?”
“Yes. Now.”
“I…um, I guess sure,” Mark saves and closes the current chapter he was writing, “I’ll read you the beginning of… chapter one?”
“Sounds okay.” Donghyuck takes hold of Mark’s legs, drags them off the couch and sits in their place. No, he didn’t say excuse me or can you move your legs. Nope. He just totally invades Mark’s personal space, grinning like he never forced Mark’s legs away. Just smiling like he’s the honest good.
Damn innocent eyes.
Mark licks his lips and begins to read.
It was dark when he woke, red hair lying over his eyes. There was a sound of a crackling fire and the smell of milk and honey filling his nostrils. It was obvious; he wasn’t on his ship. His ship was metal lined, cold; there were sounds of incisive beeping, and it smelt of iron.
This was not his ship. Where is his ship? Where is he?
He feels a hand running its fingers along his arm and sits up hurriedly, meeting the eyes of a messy haired man. The man seems just as shocked as he is and sets his arm down.
“You’re awake,” the man says, voice deep and sweeping passed his ears, “I thought you had died in that crash.”
“Crash?”
“Yes, but no need to worry. Your arm will be fine again.”
“M-my…” he looks down, finally noticing the bits of his left arm scattered across the bedside table, the pieces shimmering in the dim light. He chokes a bit, eyes clouding at the sight. Everything, from the elbow down, was missing, “M…my arm,” He sobs, “My arm!”
The man is quick to react, grabbing a tissue and reaching out to wipe his tears, but he’s not fast enough. There is suddenly a gun aimed at his neck and two teary, angry green eyes glaring at him, face inches away.
“What have you done to my arm!?” he demands, nearly piercing the skin on the man’s throat.
“Please, listen. I had only rescued you! From the crash!” The weapon pressed harder.
“Do not lie to me, earth man! I will not hesitate to kill you if you do not cooperate! Now tell me!”
“I know you wouldn’t hesitate. And I’m telling you the truth! Your ship crashed,” The man sputters, “a day’s walk from here; west. I knew you had to be a Porcian,” The gun lowers slightly, “I went to help you before the Reserves found you.”
“I….” he sighs, and removes the gun from the man, concealing it back into his pocket. “Okay, earth man. I will trust you for now.”
“That is all I ask,” The man reaches towards the nightstand, picking a piece of the shattered arm and a spray bottle reading ‘Magifix, “I’ll repair your arm.”
“Thank you, earth man.” The man chuckles.
“Johnny, actually. May I ask who you are? Of the royal family, I presume?” the Porcian gives him a confused look, “The insignia on your ship. You’re a prince?”
“Yes.”
“What may I call you?”
“Ten.”
Donghyuck looks up when Mark stops, eyes wide and expecting. “That’s it? That can’t be it.” Mark almost smiles at the eager treble in the other’s voice, but instead, clears his throat and shuts his laptop.
“I… said I’d read you the beginning.”
Donghyuck tosses a throw pillow at the wall, whining, “No way! I already have so many questions!” Donghyuck doesn’t see the look on Mark’s face. If he had, he’d see how confused he is.
Does Donghyuck actually like his fic?
He actually wants to hear more?
He’s curious about his fic; has actual questions?
This should excite Mark, but it’s only panicking him a bit. So he, once again, clears his throat and stands up from the couch, “Maybe another time.” He says, looking at Donghyuck with an unsure smile. Donghyuck returns the look, but his smile is brighter than Mark’s.
Donghyuck stands right in front of him and he finally realizes how much taller he is than the other. Mark literally stands 2 inches over Donghyuck and he’s disappointed in himself. Why does he wish Donghyuck were shorter? And why does he still find this teeny tiny height difference kind of cute? Cute enough to cause him to pout.
“Hmm. You're very--" ‘cute.’ He stops himself, stupidly. But it’s too late and he wants to slap himself when Donghyuck’s smile falls and he glares at Mark through his bangs. Mark wants to stab himself, but it looks like Donghyuck might just do it for him, so, cool.
“I’m what?”
“Fuck.” Mark curses and backs away slowly when Donghyuck stalks closer, like a lion hunting, “No I didn’t mean anything bad! Trust me! If you could read my mind, you’d understand! I’d be embarrassed but I wouldn’t be dead!”
The glare hardened, “You’d still be dead.”
“No wait a minute!”
Donghyuck steps closer, eyebrows raised. “I’ll ask again. I’m what?”
“I-i-I just meant you're cute, but not weird cute! Like sexy cute! Not an insult!” Mark’s back is against the wall now, arms covering his face from any fists or objects he could get hit with, but nothing comes. When he looks, Donghyuck is only staring at him, eyebrows knotted together.
And Mark stares back, feeling his face heat up while meeting Donghyuck’s pretty eyes, seeing his eyebrows falter, before knotting back again.
Donghyuck growls and pinches Mark’s arm, “Okay, ow!” he pinches harder, “ow!!”
“W-whatever! I’ll kill you when I come back!” He yells, stomping to the door, “But before I murder you, you need to read to me!! 6 o’clock!” The door slams and Mark lets out a deep shaky breath.
Alright, note to self: Donghyuck is very, very intense.
📖
Yeri meets Mark at the café a block away from campus fifteen minutes late… with Jisung, who wasn’t invited. “Saw him on the way here,” she said, yeah right. These two have an obvious ‘secret’ thing going on and they swear Mark doesn’t know about it. But, ha, he knows.
They took a table in the near back, ordering ice coffees and three white macadamia nut cookies.
“So what’s the dill, pickle?” Yeri asks, crunching on her cookie. Mark moves the coffee from his lips to give her a questioning look.
“What?”
“Your text seemed… I don’t know, urgent. What’s the deal?”
Mark sighs and shuffles out of his jacket, “My new roommate, Donghyuck, he’s a cool guy. I guess,”
Jisung raises an eyebrow, “Your tone doesn’t match your words. Does he smell? Cuz when I was with him earlier and he smelt fine. A little girly, but fi--”
“What? No.”
“Weird sleeping habits?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then what is it? What’s wrong with him?” Jisung presses. Mark almost doesn’t want to say anything.
“He knows I write fiction, guys…” Jisung scoffs because ‘I already knew that.’ And Yeri’s concerned frown falls and is replaced with a smile.
“Awesome,” She says, obviously excited, “Does he like em? Have you let him read Porcelain?”
“I- uh…” Mark takes a deep breath, “I read him a bit after Jisung left out. He likes it. He wants to hear more.”
“That’s great.”
The coffee in his hands suddenly looks very unappetizing, his cookie not sitting right in his stomach. Just thinking of Donghyuck hearing his JohnTen fic scared him. He’s debated whether or not he should read anymore to him. He’s also debated whether or not he should find somewhere else to sleep tonight to avoid being ruthlessly murdered.
“But you guys…” He began.
“Yeah?” The two synchronized.
“He doesn’t know it’s a JohnTen.”
Yeri lets out a snort, “How could he not? I mean, the two meet in chapter one! From the get-go, it’s very obvious. I’m just saying tha--”
“He doesn’t know it’s that kind of fiction…”
“Oh…” the table goes silent, except for Jisung’s cup clanking onto the surface, “Just tell him.”
“Tell him!?” Mark nearly yells. The two only nod, like it was the most natural thing in the world to just tell someone this. For them, maybe.
Yeri takes a bite of Jisung’s cookie and smiles at Mark, “Yeah.”
“But I mean, what do I say? ‘Oh, hey Donghyuck. Before I read you more of Porcelain, I should tell you, the two main characters are gay and may fornicate’? Isn’t that kind of weird?”
Jisung whispers a confused ‘fornicate?’ to himself as Yeri scoffs.
“Ten’s practically made of glass, Mark. It can’t possibly get any weirder than that.” she deadpans.
“And who the hell even cares if they’re gay??” Jisung asks.
“I care if they’re gay!” Customers look curiously at their table. Mark clears his throat nervously, “Back to the matter at hand, please.”
“When are you reading more to him?”
“Later tonight… at six.”
“You sound hesitant,” Yeri says.
“Do I?”
“Anyway, Mark. Tell him as soon as he walks through the door!” Jisung shouts.
Yeri laughs, “Good idea. Be all like, DONGHYUCK, I WRITE GAY NCT FICS! PLEASE ACCEPT ME!’ Does he even know who NCT is?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I have a poster up. He looked at it, I saw. But I don’t know. He didn’t look like he knew ‘em.”
Yeri’s face falls, leaving her with a blank expression. “Kill him.”
Mark rolls his eyes, letting out a chuckle despite the fact that he knows Yeri is serious and Jisung explodes into laughter.
“Yer--”
“Markie, this is pretty much treason. He doesn’t deserve to breathe.”
“Yeri has a point, Mark. How can anyone not know NCT? They’re the most popular band today!”
“Maybe he’s not into music.”
Both his friends give Mark a oh hell no look and simultaneously say, “Kill him.”
Mark shakes his head, “No. I can’t murder my roommate.” He’ll just kill me first.
“…you’re right. We’ll let him live for now,” Jisung drinks the last of his coffee, “But really. Just tell him. If he even lifts an eyebrow at you in a judging way, I’ll kill him myself.”
“You?”
“Yeri. I’ll tell Yeri to kill him.” Jisung sighs and she nods excitedly, “Or even Chenle, he’s pretty kick ass when he wants to be.”
Mark smiles a bit and nods. Even though it wasn’t the most reassuring conversation he’s ever had, he thinks things will be fine. And if they aren’t, Mark’ll sleep on the couch or Donghyuck’ll probably assassinate him. It all works out. “…Okay.” The two brighten up.
“Okay?”
“Yeah okay, I’ll tell him.”
They smile happily at him.
“Will you update tomorrow?” Yeri asks.
“Sure.”
They didn't help. Not really, but Mark also feels like he has no choice but to just come clean. After all, he's going to be rooming with Donghyuck for who knows how long and he hates when things get awkward...
So, sighing deeply, Mark walks into his room and sees Donghyuck sitting on Mark’s bed listening to… Oh crap he’s listening to NCT???
Mark’s eyebrows lift in surprise as he walks over and clears his throat, “I…uh…”
Donghyuck looks up from his phone and shuts the music off quickly, “Oh, sorry. I forgot about your rule. No playing music out loud. Right.”
“No, not that.” He says hesitantly, “You… you listen to NCT?”
“I just finally got a good look around the room when I came back,” Donghyuck smirks, but only barely. “Your poster is nice. So I thought I’d look ‘em up. They have cool songs.”
“Wow…”
“Also,” He says with a laugh, pointing at two specific people on the poster and Mark wants to decapitate himself. “The Johnny and Ten in your story are from NCT.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“That wasn’t a question, but alright,” He pats the bed and Mark cautiously sits next him, keeping his guard up, “So you’re a fanfiction writer?”
“Well, I um…yeah.”
“Interesting. Where do you write?”
“ArchiveforFics…”
Donghyuck snorts, “What’s your name?”
“O-OnYourMark…”
“Pffft.”
“Look, D-Donghyuck. I don’t expect you to understand my fanboy heart, but don’t tease me cuz I’m very sensitive. And if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll switch rooms with Jisung.” Donghyuck stares at him, amused. “You probably think I’m a weirdo now--”
“Mark, this is probably the cutest thing I’ve heard all year.”
“--and I’ll be forever alone with my laptop and- wait what?” Mark turns to look back at Donghyuck, whose smile keeps widening by the minute.
“It’s cute. That you write fanfic.”
Mark blinks. “Huh?”
“And I may not understand your ‘fanboy heart’, but your fic sounds great and I’m a sucker for great stories.”
“I don’t know what to sa--”
“Don’t say. Just read to me.”
Mark finishes reading two chapters of Porcelain for him and Donghyuck still has so many questions. One question having to do with why exactly he paired up Johnny and Ten. Which made Mark have to explain the art- yes, the art- of shipping to Donghyuck.
“I can’t believe it,” Donghyuck says. He’s lying on the floor now, legs propped up against Mark’s bed. “You mean to tell me there’s a whole clan for this shipping shit?”
Mark groans, for the fifth time, but who’s counting. “There’s not a clan… it’s just a very popular thing.”
“It’s a clan,” Donghyuck snorts, “I bet that if there was such thing as a Shipper Uprising, eighty-three percent of the world would be screwed.”
“Donghyuck…”
“Fine,” Mark watches him sit up and lean on the bed, chin resting on his folded arms, “but do I have to ship TenJohn or whatever it is?”
“It’s JohnTen and no. You can ship what you want… I guess.”
“I see.” There’s a silence until Donghyuck breaks it with a giggle, “This is so weird, Mark.”
Mark feels every inch of his skin tingle uncomfortably at those words and the giggle. He can’t even bring himself to say anything in defense.
“My old roommate had this thing with dirt and wore latex gloves all the time. He would lecture me about all the kinds of bacteria there are and what they could do to our bodies every time I just so happen to sneeze 10 feet away from him.”
“And… I’m weird?”
“Yes, Mark!” Donghyuck says, planting his palms on the bed, face beaming and eyes smiling, “But this is a much better weird. Trust me.”
📖
Donghyuck and Mark are sitting on the living room floor, backs against the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them as NCT music videos autoplay on the TV. It started as “one video,” but that was twenty minutes ago and now they’re knee‑deep in the discography. Mark is in full fanboy mode, posture straight, eyes bright, hands already mid‑gesture like he’s giving a TED Talk.
“Okay, so this one-- this one is ICONIC,” Mark says, pointing at the screen. “This is peak NCT. Peak. N. C. T.”
Donghyuck sighs loudly, arms crossed. “You’ve said that about the last four videos.”
“Okay but look at Taeyong here,” Mark says, pointing at the screen. “He’s literally the blueprint.”
Donghyuck squints at the screen. “His hair looks like a traffic cone.”
Mark gasps. “Take that back.”
“No.”
“TAKE IT BACK.”
Donghyuck smirks. “I’m just saying, if I had that hair, you’d bully me.”
“That’s DIFFERENT,” Mark argues, flustered. “You’d look… you’d look-just... ANYWAY, Taeyong looks great.”
Donghyuck hums, unconvinced. “I like the other guy better.”
Mark freezes. “Which other guy?”
Donghyuck points vaguely. “That one.”
“That’s TEN,” Mark says, clutching his chest. “You can’t just- just POINT at Ten like he’s some random guy!”
Donghyuck shrugs. “He’s cool.”
“He’s AMAZING,” Mark corrects. “He’s- he’s- look, just watch this part!” Mark leans forward, narrating every move. Donghyuck watches him more than the screen, eyes flicking between Mark’s animated expressions and the video. And Mark is so invested on his idols, he doesn't even notice. The dumb idiot.
Donghyuck throws a kernel at him. “You’re so dramatic. This music video isn’t even their best.”
Mark’s head snaps up. “Excuse me?”
Donghyuck shrugs again, deliberately provoking. “The one with the yellow outfits was better.”
Mark looks personally attacked. “You mean ‘Kick It’? KICK IT?!”
Donghyuck nods. “It's catchy.”
Mark looks like he’s going to pass out. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Maybe,” Donghyuck says, leaning back on his hands. “Oooor maybe I just have better taste.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“Then show me another one,” Donghyuck challenges. “Convince me.”
Mark brightens instantly, willing to overlook Donghyuck obvious poor taste. It's concerning really, but it's okay. Mark can fix him. “Okay! okay, yes, I can do that. This next one is- oh my god, you’re gonna love this!”
Johnny appears on screen and Donghyuck points dramatically. “There’s your man.”
“He’s not my--”
“And there’s Ten,” Donghyuck adds, leaning closer, “aka the superior half of your ship.”
Mark shoves him lightly. “You’re lucky you’re--”
Before he can finish, Jisung bursts in screaming at the top of his lungs.
“YOU’RE BOTH DISGUSTING AND I HATE YOU JESUS CHRIST WASH YOUR FEET WHAT THE HELL I FEEL SO VIOLATED!” he tosses his pillow case at the two, socks falling out and landing around them, before running out of the dorm, probably to go cry to Yeri but no one cares.
“Oh my god, we should’ve done that way earlier!” Donghyuck says, falling over onto Mark’s lap laughing. Donghyuck is warm. And close. And laughing so hard his shoulders shake against Mark’s thighs. Mark stares down at him, helplessly amused, helplessly aware.
Mark doesn’t have the heart to push him off or the guts. Donghyuck immediately stops laughing. He looks up. Mark looks down. And suddenly the room feels too quiet.
They have the shortest (or the longest, Mark can’t really tell) of staring contests, before Mark starts to notice the slight tinting on the younger male’s cheeks. He feels heat on his own cheeks at the sight.
“Do we have a problem?” Donghyuck says suddenly, all sassy and laced with attitude. Cute attitude. Infuriatingly cute. Mark just shakes his head.
“Nope.”
“Then why haven’t you pushed me off?”
“Cuz respect?” Donghyuck scoffs at that, “And I’m just following your rules.”
“Rules?”
“Yup!” Mark says letting the ‘p’ sound pop. “’don’t touch me unless I say it’s cool’” he mocks in a very high pitched voice only to wince in pain when he gets pinched.
“I don’t talk like that.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Donghyuck scoffs again and rolls away from Mark. There’s a beat of silence and then Donghyuck clears his throat.
“… It’s cool. I’m giving you permission,” Donghyuck didn’t look at him and he didn’t sound too excited either, but whatever. Mark smiles and reaches over to Donghyuck’s shoulder, giving it a good shove.
“Then stay off me, you piss taco.”
“Your insults are so creative...”
Mark shrugs, “Yeah, well now I’m craving tacos.”
📖
“Taco Bell is the shit, I’m telling you.” Donghyuck argues. Mark rolls his eyes and walks into their campus Chipotle, he doesn’t even wait for Donghyuck.
“Yeah it is if you want to shit.” Mark fires back
Of course, they go to get tacos. Donghyuck was hungry too and not because of Mark’s stupid whining about starving and dying and never meeting Nakamoto Yuta.
“I’m telling you, Donghyuck, you’re an idiot. Those flimsy little tortillas are no match for Chipotle. This place is the burrito eatery of the Gods, you know.” Donghyuck stares at Mark, a cross between weirded out and amused.
“You’re crazy, Mark. Like fruit loop crazy.”
Mark sticks out his tongue and orders for them happily. Happy cause he gets a burrito, not happy cause of Donghyuck. Why would he even? Donghyuck doesn’t compare to burritos. Donghyuck is… secondary. Tertiary. Somewhere on the list. He can’t cover Donghyuck in guacamole, now can he?
Well he could… wait what?
“If this is disgusting, I’m holding you personally responsible,” Donghyuck says, shaking Mark off his thoughts to take a large bite from his burrito.
“I am personally responsible and I’m not afraid of you, Lee Donghyuck,” He lies, “You don’t scare me.”
“Liar says what?”
“What?”
“Exactly,” Donghyuck takes a bite and then freezes, chewing slowly and hating the I told you so look on Mark’s face.
“Best burrito ever.”
“I will punch you, Mark Lee.”
Mark quickly shuts up, but snickers quietly at Donghyuck’s small smirk.
📖
The next few weeks surprisingly don't make Mark want to bury himself under fresh asphalt. In fact, he's got more writing done and isn't failing chemistry, truly a win. Even his not-friendship/roommate-ship with Donghyuck isn't terrible. Don't get him wrong though! Donghyuck is terrible. But in the annoying 'bully mark until he cries way' which... okay, is BAD. But Mark thinks he's getting used to the sass and sarcasm.
Mark opens his fanfic account ready to upload a new chapter when he noticed the notification symbol blinking. He grinned happily.
“Oh. New subscribers!” He clicks the link.
‘Haechan has subscribed to your story!’
‘Haechan left a comment on your story!’
Haechan?? Like… the sun? But despite that, Mark’s smile couldn’t get any wider. He loves checking his reader’s comments, even the impatient ones. They warm his heart with all the ‘i did not see that coming! this has to be the best fic i’ve read’ or ‘update soon i’m having withdrawals’ or even ‘u are THE JohnTen shipper bless u’
He loves it and with an excited chuckle, he goes to the comment section.
‘Haechan says on chapter 3: is it weird to say i’m kind of addicted to this story? this is the first fic i’ve read and it’s so very very very good. i really need more’
Mark tilts his head in confusion, “You need more? Duh, you’re on 3 out of 9 chapters. Speed up.” he thinks and he wants to say. So he does, without even thinking of course because when does Mark think?
‘OnYourMark replies: You have 6 chapters to go! Read on new subber! And thanks I live for comments come back often!’
Mark is satisfied with the response and goes to close the page, but a new notification stops him. “wow, they reply fast.”
‘Haechan replies: nah, i’ll wait before i continue. but i do plan on coming back often. friend me?’
The friend request comes almost instantly and Mark would be kinda creeped out if he didn’t love his readers so much.
‘OnYourMark replies: You’re fast and that’s scary. But I’ll accept.’
‘Haechan replies: i’d be insulted if you didn’t.’
There’s a little something about this new subber that Mark finds amusing… and strange. They’re funny, Mark thinks and accepts the request. Mark only has 1,270 friends, one more won’t hurt.
📖
Donghyuck comes into the room, huffing tiredly and slings his laptop bag onto the bed. Mark doesn’t look up from his writing, only says a quick hey.
“Hey,” the younger's voice seems off and Mark decides that maybe he should try to be a decent roommate and put someone else’s feelings before his writing. But then decides that maybe that’s a stupid idea, because Donghyuck had already obnoxiously draped his body over Mark’s legs and Mark wants to do nothing but ignore him now.
Not to mention that Donghyuck was wet for some reason and he’s not sure he wants to know why or with what.
“I can see the look on your face, it’s rain water.”
“Oh,” Mark says simply, or he just doesn’t care anymore, “didn’t know it was raining.”
“That’s cuz you’re lost in your little fiction world~”
“A fiction world you’re not getting any more chapters of, you stale pretzel.”
Donghyuck grimaces, “Please, please get more insult material. They all involve food.”
“They do not!”
“The other day you called me a ‘powdered donut’…” Mark shrugged, “And then ate powdered donuts! Are you gonna eat pretzels now?”
“Pretzels are gross,” Donghyuck doesn’t reply. He just leaves the room all together, carrying a handful of clothes, and Mark will admit (only to himself) that the sudden silence bothers him. What also bothers him is the tone of Donghyuck’s voice. The younger boy sounded kind of… upset. Over what? What happened? Should he ask? Would Donghyuck even tell?
Nevertheless, he has a chapter to finish or Yeri will raise hell. Budding in his roommate’s business should be the last thing on his mind. He goes back to typing.
And then, minutes later, Donghyuck’s voice is heard outside the door, shouting something to Jisung it seems. He comes back into the room, completely dry now, wearing a large baby blue sweater and a pair of black boxer-briefs. A cute, star shaped pimple patch on his nose and Mark now notices that he’s stopped typing.
He’s blankly watching, damn near ogling, Donghyuck sort his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. Mark swallows hard because fuck Donghyuck has beautiful legs. They literally never end…. The edges of his black briefs peek out and clutch around Donghyuck’s thighs and the curve of his ass and shit. That’s all he can really see thanks to that oversized sweater. Mark swallows again, sniffling and wiping his nose nonchalantly when Donghyuck whips around and stares right back at Mark.
“May I help you?” the younger asks, voice no longer holding that upset tone from earlier, but a more playful one. He raises an eyebrow at Mark’s silence.
Mark clears his throat, with some difficultly, and focuses back on his laptop screen, “You should at least wear pants if you’re not about to go to sleep, you know.” His voice catches on him more than once, but Donghyuck doesn’t poke fun at him like Mark thought he would.
Instead, he comes closer to the bed, smiling too brightly, “I never say anything when you parade around shirtless, now do I?” He turns back around then, spending a strange amount of time sorting his laundry, “You walk around, fresh out the shower, wet, shirtless, and shit; hair all damp and you expect me to complain? You come back from lectures and just snatch your damn shirt off like no one’s around. Do you flex unknowingly?? Cuz if you do, fuck you, Mark. Even if I do say something, and I surely won’t, you’ll just keep ripping your shirt off. I never once complained though.”
Mark’s ready to shoot back and ask why Donghyuck sounds so bothered if he doesn’t complain, but then he actually processes the words and, “Wait, what??”
Donghyuck chooses not to respond, only scooches up onto the bed, squeezing himself in between Mark and the wall. Mark freezes up the moment the bare skin of Donghyuck’s thigh pressing against his shorts. “What, Donghyuck! What do you want??” He thrashes around on the bed (holding his laptop protectively), honestly not knowing what else to do. Donghyuck’s body is warm and he’s saying weird things and Mark is not hard-wired for situations like this!
During his flailing, Mark hadn’t noticed he’d pushed the younger into the wall until he starts shouting. “What the hell, Mark Lee! Ow! I only wanted to read with you. If you don’t want me on your bed, just say so! Don’t crush me.” Donghyuck retaliates by snatching Mark’s precious laptop and tossing it to the other side of the room, on his own bed.
Mark screeches and makes a dive for it, falling unceremoniously onto the floor tangled in his blanket. He sighs from his spot. These kinds of things only happens to him. One moment he’s enjoying his typing and the next, Donghyuck’s making a fool of him.
He hates his life. He hates Donghyuck more. …no he doesn’t, but the thought makes him feel better.
“I didn’t do that,” Donghyuck says, stifling his laughter.
“Whatever! Just help me up, you asshat,” Mark is suddenly lifted off the floor, Donghyuck’s got his arms wrapped snugly around Mark’s waist, smiling. And there’s something about that smile. Damnit, there’s something about it. It’s fucking cute. When he smiles, Donghyuck looks significantly prettier and it’s unsettling. Donghyuck’s legs are miles long, but he’s not taller than him. His skin is honeyed and freckled. Lips pink and plush… Its a lot, even more so that his eyes are pretty as fuck too. Donghyuck shouldn’t be so attractive. And yet Mark is blushing.
“That was better.” Donghyuck says softly.
“Wh-what was better?”
“The insult. You’re improving. I’m proud.”
Mark pouts and then grins mischievously. “You over cooked lima bean…” Donghyuck doesn’t think twice about dropping Mark back onto the floor. “I think I hate you,” he mumbles weakly into the rug.
“Thanks,” Donghyuck says, taking the laptop off his bed and placing it back onto Mark’s.
“For hating you? No prob.”
“For making me laugh.” Mark doesn’t see Donghyuck smile fondly as he leaves the room.