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FOURTEEN.
1a.
The first time they speak, Donghyuck is fourteen, wearing his blue blazer uniform and sitting under an old oak by the school field. A spiral sketchbook lies open on his lap, his legs crossed on top of the grass. The tip of his tongue sticks out as he works on a sketch of Spike Spiegel, the wavy-haired protagonist from Cowboy Bebop. His pencil strokes are brisk, his attention centered on the lines of Spike’s face. And so he fails to notice the goddamn ball, which hurtles his way and smacks him on the head.
He hears footsteps and a familiar voice, “Oh, shit.”
The cursing doubles Donghyuck’s surprise. He winces, bites on his lip, and places both hands on his skull.
"Dude, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Donghyuck breathes, collecting himself.
“You curse a lot,” he says in a muffled voice. It’s not the first time he’s heard Lee Mark curse. He’d often overhear Mark’s conversations with the football boys, and the expletives are a common occurrence.
Donghyuck opens one eye and lifts his head to see the worry on Mark’s face as he crouches down to check on him.
“I didn’t quite catch that.” He pants and, even in this state, he sparkles.
“I said you curse a lot.”
“Oh, fuck.” Mark smacks a hand to his mouth.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Kinda hurts, but like—” He meets Mark’s eyes, deep and dark yet somehow: warm. “I’m fine.”
More apologies, more assurances that everything is fine, another curse word here and there. Mark smacks himself once more and Donghyuck laughs at his antics.
Donghyuck is easy like that. Just make him laugh, and you’ve got him pegged.
1b.
Drawings of him fill his sketchbook: There’s one that’s just his smiling face; one where he’s standing far away, in the middle of a field, foot on top of a soccer ball; then another where Mark has a hand over his mouth, plus a quote bubble full of cuss words.
His Maths teacher confiscates the book now and again, as Donghyuck cares very little for the subject (too limiting to the imagination, he always thought).
His friend Renjun tells Donghyuck that the headmaster’s bound to call him one of these days if he doesn’t pay more attention in class.
“I wouldn’t care,” Donghyuck scoffs. “I really, really wouldn’t.”
They’re in the middle of free period, and Donghyuck is busy with another sketch.
“What are you drawing there anyway?” Renjun asks. “Is this like—an original character?”
Donghyuck concentrates on the lines: Mark’s crooked smile, messy hair, the freckles on his cheek.
“It isn’t a character,” says Donghyuck.
“Who is it then?”
“It’s Mark.”
“Lee Mark? From Class 2?”
Donghyuck nods.
“I don’t get it. Why him?”
“Just ‘cause.”
“Is this some kind of crush situation?”
Donghyuck stops and looks up at Renjun. He frowns. “I don’t have a crush on him. That’s ridiculous.”
It’s the first, though certainly not the last time this would ever be suggested. While Donghyuck denies it vehemently every time, what Renjun says is right: Donghyuck has a big, giant crush.
1c.
Things only get worse when he and Mark end up in the same cram school, both of them studying for high school entrance tests.
“Donghyuck, right? I recognise you from school.”
Donghyuck nods, as Mark sits on the chair next to him. “And you’re Lee Mark.”
“Dude, how’d you know?” He looks genuinely surprised, mouth wide open.
Donghyuck raises a brow. “Everyone in school knows who you are.”
“Everyone? Really? I didn’t know that.”
“You’re pretty popular.”
“I am?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Well—it never occurred to me.”
“That’s exactly what a popular kid would say.”
Mark scratches his head.
“You hit me with a ball a few months ago.”
Mark’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“I guess you don’t remember.”
“Oh. Wait wait wait, I think I do remember! You called me out on my, uh—”
“Your potty mouth.” Donghyuck smiles, a giddy feeling rising in his stomach.
“Yeah, fuck—I mean, geez, that was probably the worst first impression a guy could make.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
“You have?”
Donghyuck rubs his chin, thinking. “Actually, no.”
“Dude.”
They both laugh, giggles loud enough for their classmates to be weirded out. Talking to Mark is just as Donghyuck expects: light and easy. And his smile — lips curving ever so slightly to the right side of his cheek — is even more endearing up close.
In truth, he hasn’t quite acknowledged his feelings just yet. But in the next few weeks, it becomes incredibly difficult to backpedal and simply say: No, I don’t have a crush on Mark. He’s just a guy with a nice face. A good sketch model, that’s all. Instead, his consciousness screams: Fuck, he’s so cute. Why is he smiling at me? Why is his handwriting so tiny? Why does he keep looking in my direction? Do I have something on my face? Fuck. I can’t look ugly or he won’t like me back.
Fuck. Now Donghyuck’s the one cursing an inappropriate amount.
During an otherwise quiet lunch at the school cafeteria, he finally admits it all to Renjun, who gives him a look of utter exasperation.
“No shit,” Renjun says, and Donghyuck slams his head onto the table, unable to cope.
1d.
He knows the crush won’t amount to anything, and this is something that dawns on him the day of their school festival.
They wave at each other in the hallway, Mark dressed as Superman for Class 2’s cosplay-themed cafe. To Donghyuck, he looks like a proper boy wonder. Donghyuck, meanwhile, feels like a twat with paint splattered on his face and apron, as he just finished the backdrop for Class 1’s play.
His heart stutters, the world slowing as Donghyuck walks towards him. The amount of people moving through the corridor barely registers. Donghyuck smirks and racks his brain for a quip — Did they really think dressing you up would bring in customers? Or: A bit tight on the waist there, don’t you think? Or, no, fuck. Maybe: I don’t think superman was supposed to be this gangly. Yeah, no. That should be right. You got this, Donghyuck.
“Lee Donghyuck!” someone goes, bringing Donghyuck back to his senses. Behind him, class president Yerim waves her arms and beckons him to return to their set.
The moment he looks back, Mark is already speaking to someone else, one of the other football players dressed in the blue blazer and chain necklace of Yugi Mutou from Yu-Gi-Oh.
Donghyuck sighs, and promptly gets elbowed by a girl from a lower year, rushing to her class. Then, he gets bumped by some guy in a pirate costume. At this, Donghyuck curses and clicks his tongue.
Yerim calls for him again and this time Donghyuck answers, telling her that he’ll be right there.
In his imagination, Mark would look for him; he’d be confused as to why Donghyuck had to turn around and go the other way. Mark would run and grab Donghyuck by the arm. They’d smile at each other and Mark’s cheeks would turn red. And he’d ask Donghyuck what time the play’s gonna be. I wanna be there, he’d say, because he would want to see the fruits of Donghyuck’s hard work. Then Mark would offer Donghyuck a free meal at Class 2’s cafe, and Donghyuck would try to refuse. But Mark would insist. And then they’d walk home together, and Donghyuck would pull on Mark’s sleeve at the intersection where they have to part. Mark would look at him warily, but then he’d touch Donghyuck’s face. And Donghyuck would look desperate because he was going to need Mark to kiss him and kiss him quickly.
The thoughts escalate and it frustrates Donghyuck to his very core that the vision even comes to him. He wants to claw his hair out and scream into a thousand pillows. He wants to kick Mark in the stomach and tell him exactly how he’s feeling. His bones are weary; his heart is aching.
He thinks, perhaps, things will get easier soon. It’s Mark, for god’s sake — and having a crush on Mark (at least according to the girls in his class) is just a phase everyone’s bound to go through.
Of course, Donghyuck couldn’t be more wrong. Crushes on Mark, he’s about to find out, can last a very, very, very long time.
_________
TWENTY-FOUR.
2a.
While many things change in ten years, some things stay the same.
For Donghyuck, it should be pretty fucking obvious what aspect of himself hasn’t changed (though he’s back once again to denying it — Mark’s just a friend now. Sure, he’s gotten hotter, and he’s still really nice—and—Shut up. I’m hanging up now, Renjun. Stop getting on my case! ).
He and Mark go to the same university, though they aren’t in the same major. Mark’s taking Physics, while Donghyuck is in Fine Arts Ed. But they still see each other often, once every week for lunch and a couple of times a week in Donghyuck’s share-house.
His housemates, Jungwoo and Doyoung, are both fellow FA Ed majors whom Donghyuck met in freshman year. They’re sunbaes who’d taken Donghyuck into their friend group when they discovered Donghyuck was a pretty fun drunk at parties. They’re both gay, and knee-deep in the bar scene, giving Donghyuck his first exposure to queer disco nights at Itaewon. Though the bar hopping is only half of why Donghyuck loves them so much. It’s the free therapy he values the most.
Donghyuck lies on his belly on Doyoung’s bed, home after lunch with Mark. Doyoung sits on his desk, typing up a paper for art history while Jungwoo sits with Donghyuck on the bed, eyes transfixed on his phone.
Donghyuck lies prone and quiet while Doyoung and Jungwoo go about with their business. Doyoung asked him early that afternoon if there was anything Donghyuck wanted to talk about, and Donghyuck shook his head, “There’s really nothing.”
Which is code for— Mark kept his shoe against mine the whole time we were at the restaurant. And while we waited for the bill, he crossed our feet together. Plus he let me sleep on his shoulder on the bus. How wack is that?
As the afternoon wanes, Jungwoo positions himself in bed with Donghyuck so they can cuddle and nap. Doyoung puts on some music and sways his head to beat. Their silent support keeps Donghyuck sane.
“Just date me instead,” Jungwoo says, later that afternoon.
“Oh, you wish,” says Donghyuck, smirking then turning on his back so he can stare at the ceiling.
From his desk, Doyoung tells him, “One of these days, you’ll have to confess.”
“Confess what?” Donghyuck feigns ignorance, as always.
Jungwoo wraps an arm around Donghyuck’s waist. “When you do confess, we’ll be here to get you blackout drunk till you feel better.”
Instead of responding, Donghyuck pretends to doze off. In the evening, Mark texts and asks if he can come over for dinner tomorrow night. Fingers on automatic, Donghyuck writes, Of course, with three smiley faces for good measure. When Donghyuck tells Doyoung later, Doyoung flicks Donghyuck’s forehead. Completely deserved, no doubt about it.
2b.
He’ll tell Mark when the time is right (—is what Donghyuck tells himself for many years until he decided there was nothing to tell, because he wasn’t in love with Mark, he fucking swears).
But okay, he’ll tell Mark that he used to love him, just for the shits and giggles.
And this is exactly what Donghyuck does when he and Mark are at the zoo, a trip they promised to take together since they both moved to Seoul. The day is sunny, so they go out in their summer clothes, shorts and bright-coloured t-shirts.
They’re on a bench by the elephant pavilion, a bag of fries in both their hands. It’s the best opportunity for Donghyuck to blurt out a funny story, leading up to him saying, I was in love with you all throughout high school, but it’s cool now. I no longer see you that way.
“What did you just say?” Mark goes.
“I said, isn’t that elephant, like, really fat?”
“It’s an elephant. Of course it’s fucking fat.”
Donghyuck avoids his gaze. If he has to look at Mark, his heart will disintegrate.
“You loved me?” Mark says. “Past tense?”
“Yes, but not anymore. So let’s move on. Isn’t there a dolphin show in a few?”
“Oh—fuck, yeah—I, uh…” Mark trails off. “I wanted to see that.”
“So let’s get going!”
They go about their day with barely a word. Mark smiles a fair amount and his eyes fixate on the dolphins flying into the air. But the moment the show ends, the happiness dissolves, and his expression becomes listless.
Initially, they planned to go on a walking tour. But after lunch, Mark tells Donghyuck he isn’t feeling well, “So let’s call it a day, yeah?”
Donghyuck nods in disappointment. He decides not to pry nor ask Mark how he really feels about what Donghyuck said. It takes all of his strength not to burst into tears on the bus ride back home. He doesn’t cry even when he lands in Jungwoo’s arms and when Doyoung hands him a pint of frozen yogurt, consumed in less than 30 minutes.
No calls, no texts, nothing from Mark. Ten years of this has been exhausting, so Donghyuck should feel some relief now that it’s come to an end. The results of the confession were far from ideal. But at least it’s done. At least now, Donghyuck can move on.
2c.
It’s two weeks after the confession when Mark finally talks to him. He does so via text, asking Donghyuck if it’s okay to come over.
Against Doyoung’s advice, Donghyuck agrees and tells Mark to come whenever he pleases. Mark texts back and says he’ll see Donghyuck in an hour.
The thought of him here, after two weeks of radio silence, sends Donghyuck into a panic. He has to breathe into a pillow as he waits.
Though when Mark arrives, he looks just as nervous, hands buried in the pockets of his red hoodie. He enters Donghyuck’s space and his cheeks turn pink as he meets Donghyuck’s gaze.
“I’ve had time to think.”
Mark paces around the room, shakes his hands in front of his stomach, curses, then groans. Donghyuck leans against his desk table, lowers his head, crosses his arms.
“It’s okay, Mark. Tell it to me straight.”
Silence fills the air when Mark stops in front of him. Mark inches towards him and places his hands on Donghyuck’s waist, forcing Donghyuck to meet his eye.
“I wanna try something,” Mark says, eyes dark and determined.
Donghyuck is wordless, mouth agape, eyes bugged out. He nods, while Mark’s left hand leaves Donghyuck’s waist and reaches to grab Donghyuck’s hand, holding him tight. Mark feels sweaty, but he also smells really good. Donghyuck shivers in anticipation.
The kiss leaves him breathless and weak in the knees. Mark holds him through it, an arm circling Donghyuck’s body.
When they part, Mark’s face is red and his eyes are more alive than Donghyuck has ever seen.
“I think I like you, Hyuck,” Mark says, breathing heavily. “Like — in the present tense.”
With those words alone, Donghyuck is dead and gone.
2d.
“Truth is, I haven’t done this before. Haven’t kissed anyone. And nothing remotely close to sex.”
“I’ll kiss you loads,” says Mark, and that’s exactly what he does, missing Donghyuck’s mouth at first, but then making good on his promise once he pins Donghyuck down on the bed.
They kiss with gentle pushes at first, before things turn fiercer, Mark’s tongue finding its way into Donghyuck’s mouth.
“Is kissing all we’re gonna do?” Donghyuck asks. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. But like—”
“Don’t worry,” Mark whispers, right in Donghyuck’s ear. “I’ll fuck you loads too.”
“Ah.” Donghyuck shuts his mouth and hums when Mark begins kissing his neck. This is not what Donghyuck expected Mark to be like as a lover, as he expected someone more embarrassed, more unsure. Which is not to say he doesn’t love this.
They don’t have sex that night, only do so many days later when they’re both emotionally ready. Right after the deed, he tells Mark a story, one that will make him laugh for sure this time. “I used to have this sketchbook full of drawings of you,” he says, while Mark lies naked beside him. “I didn’t know where to put all the feelings I had, so I just pushed them all into the sketches. Kind of like a horcrux of feelings. Which I thought would be destroyed once I left them at home.”
Fuck. The story isn’t coming out funny at all. Donghyuck groans and presses his face against Mark’s shoulder. He tells Mark that he means more to him than Donghyuck can put into words, that even if he never talked to Donghyuck again, Donghyuck would still love him. It’s all very melodramatic, and the emotions might be coming out this way just because Mark fucked him really, really good—like, explosively good.
They kiss as Donghyuck finishes releasing another secret into the world. Mark pulls the blanket over them and tells him that no one but him should see Donghyuck in this state.
“I’ll be damned,” Mark says, as he holds Donghyuck close.
Maybe Donghyuck should have confessed to him much earlier. If he did, he would have avoided a lot of grief. But it’s useless thinking about the past like that. At least he has Mark now. At least when he wakes the next day, he finds the daylight forming a halo over every loose hair on Mark’s head. As Mark groans and stretches, Donghyuck kisses him and forgets that he ever thought about what could have been. Instead, he sketches the present in his head, thoughts of now and everything to come immortalised in ink.
[End.]