where angels fear to tread

Donghyuck knows how to pray, how to rebuke the devil and walk through the valley of the shadow of death, how to let the Word destroy you and then put you back together. He knows how to accept penance for his sins, say his repentance and keep his head down. Or at least, try to.
What he was never prepared for, however, is how to handle Mark Lee.

Notes:

thank you to my wonderful beta

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth.

I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Matthew 10:34

―

As soon as Donghyuck steps into the building, he wants out.

The school is a large one, brick and stone and wood and wealth, and Donghyuck can smell the corruption. Or, maybe that’s the smell of teenage boy. The ceilings are high, the rooms are large, and the hallways are filled with echoes of polished heel against floor. There’s a distinct piney smell in Donghyuck’s nose, and he thinks about all the things he must’ve done in his past life to deserve this.

Donghyuck heaves a sigh through his nose and curses his mother and father inwardly, bitter to the end. He adjusts his shirt collar and treks on, a couple of boys moving in late like him and others milling about campus in preparation for the new school year.

It’s one day before his last year of school officially starts, and Donghyuck lugs his ratty old suitcase into his new home for the next year: a shared dorm with what he presumes is some douchebag. Maybe he’s being a bit judgmental, sue him.

He’s never seen a room this big in his life. There are two beds at each end of the unnecessarily large room, and Donghyuck can tell that they’re extremely expensive. The right side has evidently already been claimed by his roommate; the only definitive fact Donghyuck knows about him is that he’s also in his final year and his name is Seowoon. Or something like that.

He puts his luggage down unceremoniously, almost toppling onto the floor in the process and flops onto the bed. Donghyuck sinks into the mattress like an anchor and he huffs, putting his hands behind his head. He feels like he’s on a fucking cloud - maybe being stuck in close quarters with catholic yuppies won’t be so bad after all.

He kicks his sneakers off and stands on top of his new bed, testing its strength.

Someone in the distance delicately clears their throat.

Donghyuck’s head snaps up to the sight of a very scary looking middle aged woman standing in the doorway. She’s staring straight at him, eyes smoldering and impeccably neat red lips set in a thin line. Her shiny and slicked back black hair glistens under the artificial lighting, and Donghyuck goes cross-eyed from staring at it in fascination.

“Lee Donghyuck?” she asks, and her red hot mouth spells out his name like she can’t bear to hold it in her mouth for too long. Donghyuck isn't sure if it's thinly veiled disgust or maybe fascination at seeing commonfolk, but he supposes he doesn’t need to know. He scurries off of the bed, almost eating shit in the process, and bows deeply before her.

“Headmistress Yoon,” he assumes politely, and she hums in approval. He straightens up and reaches out for a handshake, which she pointedly ignores.

“I’m here to give you your things, as you’re a little late. Normally, a fellow student would help you get settled in, but as your admission was last-minute, we haven’t had much time to… prepare for your arrival.” She hands him an embossed envelope, and sets a lapel pin down onto his desk. “This is your schedule, and this pin,” she gestures to the side, “will be worn on your uniform blazer.”

“Thank you,” he bows again, a little hot under the collar. But not in the sexy way.

“Classes start at 8:30 am everyday, and mass is every Thursday at 11. All students must attend, or it's a warning mark on your record. Three absences result in one permanent mark. Tomorrow, you will have a student in your class guide you throughout the day, should you get lost or have any questions.”

Donghyuck nods along, his overstimulated brain having trouble keeping up with her rapidfire speech. She must really want to get out of here.

“If you have any other questions, feel free to come by my office. I’ll see you around campus, Donghyuck-ssi.”

With that, she turns abruptly on her kitten heel and exits the room.

“Great seeing you!” Donghyuck calls out, and flops back onto his bed once the coast is clear, head spinning. Whoever he was in his past life deserves a swift kick in the ass for making him endure this torture.

At least there are windows. And big ones at that. However, they only open two inches out, so Donghyuck couldn’t even jump if he tried. Sad.

The afternoon sun shines brightly onto his face, and he yawns tiredly. What are you even supposed to do when you live in a school? Do they have video games? Clubs? Group therapy sessions like psych wards?

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, which he was 99.9% sure Headmistress Yoon was going to confiscate, and composes a text to his younger brother.

lol, look at this dog i saw outside on the ride to hell

[Attachment: 1 image]

Donghyuck finds himself cracking up again at the fluffy Pomeranian with dyed pink fur being walked by some poor, definitely underpaid dog walker. Someone next door hushes him, and he shoots an offended glare at the wall.

Do Not Answer:

Puppy!

Do Not Answer:

I thought u were going to catholic school, not hell

Do they have Mario Kart at boarding school?

no, they think technology makes you stupid, Donghyuck replies.

Do Not Answer:

Mom does to

Do Not Answer:

I meant to type too

i’m not speaking to mom for the next 30 years, minimum, Donghyuck types and huffs to himself. It's because of that woman and her evil sidekick (his father) that he’s in this mess in the first place. It’s also his own fault. But not really, mostly.

Do Not Answer:

That's a lot of years

Do Not Answer:

Since u r gone, can I have your xbox?

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Donghyuck types fervently, and mourns the loss of his beloved gaming console. He’ll be damned if his preteen little brother pilfers all of the stuff he left behind. He already has a phone, and earlier in age than Donghyuck had received one, mind you.

Do Not Answer:

Ok bye

Donghyuck closes his messages and sighs. He gets up and walks over to his desk, picking up the small lapel Headmistress Yoon had given him, and examines it. It’s a small gold circle, with PALMA NON SINE PULVERE engraved onto it in capital letters. No reward without effort. Donghyuck purses his lips.

He flops back into his bed and closes his eyes, praying he makes it out alive.

―

Donghyuck knows how to pray, how to rebuke the devil and walk through the valley of the shadow of death, how to let the Word destroy you and then put you back together. He knows how to accept penance for his sins, say his repentance and keep his head down. Or at least, try to.

What he was never prepared for, however, is how to handle Mark Lee.

“Hello,” the boy says, and bows deeply in front of Donghyuck like he’s a person worthy of respect. Finally. “I’m Minhyung, my friends call me Mark. Today, I’ll be guiding you since it’s your first day.”

Donghyuck notices that he’s pretty right off the bat: big sparkly eyes, button nose, small mouth, sharp jaw. Cheek mole. Wavy dark hair, and a killer smile. Great, Donghyuck thinks to himself.

He turns around without much thought and Donghyuck knows he is expected to follow, so he does.

“Our hallways are just like any other hallways,” Minhyung, no, Mark laughs to himself, and no, no they are not. The high ceilings of the school seem to mimic that of a cathedral. The walls are crisp and pristine, wood floors shining and spotless, and Donghyuck feels completely out of his element.

Mark leads him to the dining hall, which should actually be called a small restaurant. He shows Donghyuck the rest of the campus, the chapel where they have mass, the athletics facility, and the main auditorium.

“There’s a lot more to see, but class starts soon, so we’ll save it for later,” Mark says, looking at the watch on his pale wrist. “Speaking of class, can I see your schedule?”

Donghyuck pulls it out of his pants pocket, now crumpled. If Mark notices, he doesn’t say anything. He crowds next to Donghyuck to look over his shoulder, and Donghyuck’s brain short circuits at the smell of his shampoo. “Oh, sick, we have the same first period with Mr. Shin. Here, I’ll lead you.”

The classrooms are just as ridiculous, and Donghyuck tries to keep the shock off of his face as he enters calculus.

Immediately, there are dozens of eyes on him and Mark, and Donghyuck wonders just how much they know.

Whispers arise in the room, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes inwardly and adjusts his tie, taking a seat at the front next to Mark. Slinging his backpack off of his shoulder, he surveys the room. A large whiteboard in the front, the same pretentiously tall ceilings. Behind him, Donghyuck can hear barely concealed whispers. Something about “Jeju” and “parents” and “scholarship.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes inwardly and he can feel Mark’s curious eyes on him from a seat over. When he was younger, his mother once told him, “Take other people’s words like water off a duck’s back, Donghyuck-ah.” Since then, he had taken those words to heart, a bit too much, if you ask his mother. (If you ask Donghyuck, he was just following orders.)

“Settle down,” a tall man strides in, looking more like a prison guard than a schoolteacher. His hair is cropped short, and Donghyuck can imagine him saying “Hup, 2, 3, 4” instead of yapping about calculus. “As most of you probably know, we have a new student joining us this year. Come introduce yourself.”

Leaving no room for argument, huh, Donghyuck thinks to himself, standing up and making his way to the front of class. If they want a show, he’ll try his best to give them a show.

“I’m Donghyuck,” he starts, lifting a hand to the eyes of the boys in front of him, some curious, some judgmental, some bored. His eyes find Mark’s in the front row, and he nods at Donghyuck in encouragement. Huh.

“But I’m sure you guys already knew that.” Some snickers from the back of the room. Donghyuck looks at Mr. Shin with pleading eyes and he waves him on. “Go on, tell the class about yourself.” He ruffles with some pages on his desk and begins writing some numerical nonsense on the whiteboard. Donghyuck sighs inwardly.

“I like long walks on the beach,” Donghyuck starts again, and pointedly ignores Mark’s teeth flashing in the light as he giggles in the front row. “I like music. I’m a gemini. I may or may not have killed someone-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Mr. Shin interrupts gruffly, putting his marker down. “Go back to your seat.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck bows, and makes his way back to his seat, slightly enjoying the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. Slightly.

“Open your textbooks to page 279. Settle down.”

Donghyuck lugs the giant book out of his backpack and accidentally slams it too hard on his desk.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck says. Mr. Shin shoots him a deadly stare.

“Nice introduction, man,” Mark whispers when he turns back to the board and nudges Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Thanks, I worked really hard on it,” Donghyuck stage-whispers back. Mark gives him a darling little smile.

Yeah, this guy is gonna be a problem.

―

Rumor has it that Lee Donghyuck, at the young age of eighteen, killed a man. Or put someone in a hospital. Or stole something. Or he slept with a teacher. No one really knows. But, that’s not the point. The point is, anyone who gets expelled from their school and then subsequently admitted into one of the most prestigious catholic boarding schools in Seoul is going to raise a couple eyebrows. Everyone knows that when you get expelled, you aren’t in good academic standing. School boards taking it on a case-by-case basis, it's unlikely that the expelled person in question will be admitted, even with good grades, potential, or a rich daddy to bribe the headmaster with some green. There’s a reputation to uphold, of course. And so many boys work so hard to get into the academy, what with the cutthroat admissions process.

So who does this kid from Jeju Island think he is?

With a scholarship under his belt, no less. He doesn’t come from old money, so what’s the deal…

“I think he really killed someone,” Hangyeol, president of the chess club, says.

A soccer player. “Nah, he looks too soft.”

“Not that soft if he’s been expelled.”

Whatever. What’s really important information right now is that some private schools have their own chefs. The food is so fucking delectable, Donghyuck could cry.

The restaurant - no, dining hall - is abuzz with chatter and the whir of the collective machine that is canned testosterone, packed up like sardines. Yes, the dreaded lunch room. Donghyuck hasn’t made any real acquaintances yet, besides Mark, because everyone is avoiding him like he has some contractible disease. Look, he may be here on a scholarship but he’s not that poor. It’s okay though, because he has the best chicken he’s ever tasted in his life to comfort him.

Enter stage left: one brave soul. He sits in front of Donghyuck, who’s shoving cafeteria rice into his mouth. He's very handsome. Sharp jaw, small eyes, thick mouth. Donghyuck stares at his lips. “Choi” is embroidered onto his navy uniform blazer in neat gold characters.

“Is it true you killed someone?”

“Yeah, wanna know where I hid the body?”

The Choi kid looks at him in mild shock for a second before bursting into boisterous laughter. “You’re funny!”

Donghyuck puts down his chopsticks and straightens his back. “I try.”

Choi gets serious all of a sudden. ‘“Listen,” he folds his hands on the table between them and leans forward conspiratorially. “I know it's probably been hard for you today. But keep going; I'm sure the guys will eventually warm up and you’ll be at home in no time. We’re a community here, y’know?”

That’s definitely a lie, Donghyuck thinks. But outside, he smiles at the kid and says his thank yous. He finds out that his name is Daejung, class president extraordinaire.

Well, at least someone here is nice. For now.

The day rolls by slowly, and Donghyuck has already pissed a couple of people off. (He might have forgotten to tuck his shirt back in after going to the bathroom, might have accidentally stepped on some asshole’s expersive loafers, and might have forgotten to give back a fancy pen he borrowed from some guy in second period, to name a few.) Mind you, Donghyuck is a good boy. He’s just … a fish out of water.

Today is Thursday, when all the boys go to mass.

The chapel is beautiful, with ceilings that touch the heavens and stained glass windows that cast a glow on the pews. Donghyuck will believe, just for today.

He stares at Mark the entire time.

Mark leads the prayer, hair a soft dark mess around his face. His cheekbones sharpen as he closes his eyes and looks down in deep concentration, and Donghyuck imagines those eyes open, over him.

Let’s not, Donghyuck thinks, and closes his eyes even harder in hopes of being blessed with the spirit of concentration. Communion is done one by one, and Donghyuck drinks from the chalice. In the reflection of the wine, Donghyuck sees a boy who is about to meet his own doom.

Later that night, he finally settles into his room. His roommate is there when he enters, on his bed, typing something rapidly on his phone. Donghyuck sets his bag down and reaches out for a handshake, which he pointedly ignores. Okay. He puts his hand down and shakes it himself. Be your own cheerleader, or whatever.

The boy, Seowoon, looks up and meets Donghyuck’s offended gaze with sharp eyes. “I've heard about you, Jeju,” he starts. “If we’re gonna live together, we need to set a couple of ground rules,” he says with no room for argument.

“My name is Donghyuck, actually.”

“I don’t need you fucking up the time I have left here, alright?” he continues like Donghyuck is barely there. “I'm graduating as valedictorian, top of my class, and going to SNU. I don't need any distractions.”

“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” Donghyuck deadpans.

“If you wanna stay here, you should follow the rules,” Seowoon ignores. “Don’t fuck things up for the rest of us.” He pockets his phone and exits the room.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Donghyuck says into the empty room.

―

Mark Lee is the captain of the track and field team.

Or, well, the cross country team, because rich people call it cross country instead of track like normal people. If you asked Donghyuck, he would tell you it’s called running.

An objective statement: most athleticwear leaves little to the imagination. Another objective statement: Mark Lee looks good in athleticwear. These are just facts of life; nothing more, nothing less. Donghyuck has a good head on his shoulders, he’s not reckless, he knows what he can’t have.

Subjective.

The first time Donghyuck sees him in his getup, he’s recruiting for the school year.

“You wanna join the team?” Mark asks, looking at him with big puppy eyes. Donghyuck almost says yes.

“No, thanks. Not really my scene.” Donghyuck shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Oh, you said you liked music, right? You should totally sign up for the acapella choir group! If you sing, I mean.”

Acapella choir? Jesus.

“I’ll think about it,” Donghyuck smiles, and it's genuine. “And I do sing. A little.”

“Oh, really?” Mark looks genuinely interested and Donghyuck freezes in his spot. “That’s sick. You should definitely join then. We need more good singers here.”

“Good?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “You’ve never heard me sing.”

A life-altering blush makes its way onto Mark’s cheeks, and he starts to fiddle with his hands. “Ah, yeah, sorry, I dunno what I’m saying. Just came out. But, uh, definitely join. It’ll help you make friends, too.”

Donghyuck scoffs fakely. “Are you saying I have no friends?”

“No way!” Mark raises his hands in defense and Donghyuck’s metaphorical tail starts to wag in interest. Easy to tease, maybe? “I just meant, y’know, it obviously hasn’t been too welcoming here.”

“That’s an understatement, Mark-ssi.”

“You can call me Mark,” he blurts out suddenly, and manages to look a bit embarrassed after. “If you want, I mean.”

“Okay, Mark.” Donghyuck can feel himself smiling like the cheshire cat, teeth all on display and ready to bite. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Mark grins, and opens his mouth to say more but one of his douchebag classmates is calling him over. “If you need anything, let me know, yeah?” He rushes off and Donghyuck is left alone.

Donghyuck’s week comes to an unceremonious end. To no one’s surprise, he hates it. He’s a normal, sensibile, very humble, thank you, person surrounded by rich douchebags and trust fund babies, and everyone thinks he has herpes, or something like that. Maybe chlamydia? Anyway, that’s not important. What’s important is that Mark keeps being nice to him. He’s opened a door for Donghyuck, given him a water bottle, let him borrow a pen, and at the very same time managed to be his very best unattainable self, just out of reach. A nice boy, a boy with friends and ambitions and faith. The picture-perfect catholic boy.

Donghyuck decides to join the dumb acapella choir group at the start of the second week of the school year.

It’s definitely not because of Mark, obviously, he just needed something to kill time. His plan is to serve his jail sentence quietly, pretend to know what a hail mary is, and keep his grades up so that he can get into one of those fancy colleges every boy in this godforsaken school fawns over. It’s a pretty simple plan, if you ask him.

Donghyuck watches the first cross country meet from the bleachers.

Call it boredom, call it morbid curiosity, what it stems from doesn’t really matter. What matters is this: hard angles and strong calves flexing and sweat dripping down spines.

And then there’s Mark, the perfect captain, reliable and amicable. He leads the team with his quiet enthusiasm, and Donghyuck can tell everyone really admires him here. Why is Donghyuck ogling the team captain of the track & field team of one of the most prestigious catholic schools in Seoul? Boredom. Self-sabotage. It’s a Shakespearean tragedy. This place is where dreams go to die. Donghyuck curses his mother, and then makes a cross over his chest when he remembers where he is, asking for forgiveness. God, Donghyuck thinks, are you there? It’s me, Donghyuck. Listen, I know you and I haven’t had the best of relationships. I always thought of you as an absent father of some sort. But if you’re real, and listening, and as merciful as everyone says you are, please, God, just kill me. Amen.

“You sure you don’t wanna join the team?”

Snapping out of his silent prayer, Donghyuck looks up to see Mark peering down at him curiously, autumn wind blowing in his hair. There’s sweat on his brow and Donghyuck watches his Adam's apple bob as he takes a swig from his water bottle. It’s overcast above him, and in Donghyuck’s mind he looks like an angel.

“No, thanks,” Donghyuck says, smiling widely at him, in on a secret only he knows. Mark gives him a funny look, a curious little thing, and Donghyuck can’t really read his expression. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Oh, yeah, the campus is beautiful in the fall.”

“It sure is,” Donghyuck says.

They stare at each other.

“Lee, get back on the field!” the coach calls from a distance. Mark snaps out of the moment and walks away.

“Bye, Mark!”

―

Acapella choir is … interesting.

Donghyuck was expecting the nerds, the pretentious daddy’s boys who probably play golf or something equally as lame, and the occasional actually normal person amongst this place full of circus clowns.

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was Na Jaemin.

A handsome and lanky boy with a royal air about him, shiny eyes and a smile that looks like it's been carefully carved into his face, almost reptilian in it's deviance. The very first conversation they have, Jaemin is all smiles and charm, and Donghyuck is scared of him.

Jaemin has a nice voice, deep and crackly like wood burning in a fire. He sounds way less annoying than the assholes in the mezzo section. His vocal fry coils around Donghyuck’s ears and settles into his core uncomfortably when he talks to him, so Donghyuck decides to stick by him. Someone who acknowledges his existence: check. Someone not entirely insufferable: check. Pretty: check. The last one isn’t important, necessarily.

“Why do you always watch cross country practice?” Jaemin asks him one day when he’s tagged along on Donghyuck’s weekly boy-ogling session. “I don’t take you for the sporty type.”

“I’m plenty sporty,” Donghyuck scoffs, leaning his elbows back onto the bleachers. The sun is out today, and the autumn leaves fall to the ground of the campus softly. With everything cast in soft yellows and bright oranges, Donghyuck feels the most normal he’s felt since he arrived in Seoul.

There’s also Mark.

From the track, Donghyuck can see him lift up his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat off of his face and gets a glimpse of his pale defined torso. The devil horns on Donghyuck’s head extend just a little bit, and his mouth waters. “I’m very interested in track and field.”

“Why don’t you join the team then?” Jaemin leans down from his perch on the bleacher above Donghyuck, and he looks at Donghyuck like he can see right through him. Like he’s staring straight into his soul. There’s no way, though. Perceptive as he probably is, he can’t know.

“I already joined acapella choir. I can’t have this under my belt too, I’ll look like I actually wanna be here.”

Jaemin snickers and leans away. “And we can’t have that, now can we?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

There’s a long silence, and all that can be heard is the commotion of the coach barking orders and teammates cheering each other on and/or berating each other for fucking up.

“What did you do?”

Donghyuck looks up from the death grip his eyes had on Mark and sees that Jaemin is looking straight at him now. The way he makes eye contact, it's unsettling. Like he’s trying to really remember your face.

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone knows why you’re here,” Jaemin starts to pick at his nails like he’s disinterested. “You got expelled. Everyone is saying you killed someone. But that’s dumb, if you killed someone, you would be in jail.” He pauses. “Or maybe not, given the current state of the justice system.”

“It's good to finally meet someone with common sense,” Donghyuck says, ignoring the last part. “Do you think this cute little face could hurt a fly?” He makes eyes at Jaemin, and Jaemin scoffs.

“Aren’t you just adorable?”

“I am,” Donghyuck nods and turns back to the field. He sighs and crosses his legs.

If Jaemin notices how he didn’t answer the question, which he certainly did, he doesn’t say anything.

The next day is the beginning of the end.

In Donghyuck’s defense, he was simply trying to use the bathroom in peace.

Just as he’s about to open a stall, he hears a voice.

Some boy, voice deep and grumbly with the aftermath of puberty, hisses into the room.

“You know, if you can’t tutor me, you could always do it for me.”

Donghyuck is a curious person. Some people would even say nosy. However, Donghyuck knows where to draw the line and keep his head down.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been so swamped with my job, I don’t have much time.”

“You can find time, can’t you?” Donghyuck hears the clack clack of loafers on the polished tile and then the loud crash of body meeting stall. Donghyuck cringes at the impact and looks around to see where the sound came from. He sees two pairs of shoes in one stall and runs to open it, met with the sight of some loser on the ground and a tall boy hovering over him, who seemingly just pushed him over.

“What are you doing?” Donghyuck asks, and he feels like he’s been thrown into one of his favorite makjang dramas where he’s the burgeoning hero, ripe with youth and bravery.

Both of them snap their heads towards Donghyuck’s rude interruption, and both of their eyes widen. The loser scurries away while the giant isn’t looking.

“Jeju?”

“My name is Donghyuck,” he says flatly. “What are you doing?”

“What would you do about it?” he asks, a crease forming between his eyebrows like he really cares.

Donghyuck sighs inwardly, not falling for scare tactics. Donghyuck knows the shocking percentage of bullying and violence in schools here, as much as people don’t like to talk about it, but he’s never really seen it firsthand, much less at a fancy catholic school. Maybe all the communion wine is getting to this guy’s brain.

“Just stop,” Donghyuck says uninterestedly, trying not to roll his eyes. “You’re too old for this. You should do your work yourself.”

The giant scoffs and shoulders himself off the stall, rolling his eyes and making his way out of the bathroom.

“Seriously?” Donghyuck follows him, standing in front of the giant. He towers easily over Donghyuck, and Donghyuck would be scared if he was a person who cared about stuff like that. Youth and bravery, right?

“What’s your problem, Jeju?” Donghyuck sees “Han” embroidered on his crisp navy blazer. He rummages through his locker and doesn’t look at Donghyuck. “Just mind your business, no sweat.”

Donghyuck crosses his arms over his chest and huffs indignantly. “You … pushed a kid over. Y’know, what would God think?”

The Han kid laughs and slams his locker shut, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m not gonna go to hell because I pushed some kid. Seriously, just let it go.”

By now, a couple of curious eyes are watching the thing go down, and Donghyuck groans inwardly. Why can’t he live in peace? Damn his love for justice.

Donghyuck doesn’t back down. “I’ll let it go if you agree to apologize to him.”

Han scoffs again and his eyebrows raise. He crosses his hands over his chest and cocks his head, the picture perfect douchebag, and Donghyuck feels like Park Saeroyi.

“Apologize?” Han steps close enough to Donghyuck where he can smell his cologne, and he has to crane his head up to meet his eyes.

It’s Donghyuck’s turn to scoff. “Do you not know what that is? The definition of apologizing is-“

Han pushes a hand against Donghyuck’s chest and he stumbles back against the wall from the impact. “Don’t talk down to me. I could end your time here like that. Not like you aren’t already a fraud.”

Donghyuck laughs, really laughs, and steps even closer to him. “Are you threatening me? I bet your daddy has tons of money. Are you gonna sue me for insulting you?”

“Jeju-“

“I don’t care how much money or influence you have. Just apologize instead of being a dickhead.”

Han pushes him against the wall again, and Donghyuck almost sees the light. God, please don’t let this be the way I die, Donghyuck thinks.

“Touch me again, and I will literally-“

“Cut it out!”

Shit. Headmistress Yoon appears from around the corner, and Donghyuck notices that at some point a crowd had gathered around them.

“What is going on here?”

“Headmistress Yoon,” The Han kid bows. Oh, so now you have manners? Donghyuck thinks.

“Sungho, Donghyuck. What on Earth happened?”

“Donghyuck-ssi pushed me,” Sungho says, and Donghyuck’s eyes widen in shock. “I didn’t know what to do so I pushed back.”

“What? You literally pushed me first.”

“Both of you. Come with me, now.”

Great. His third week in school, and he’s already landed himself in detention, probably. He knows he won’t hear the end of this from literally everyone.

Donghyuck resigns to his fate and starts to follow the Headmistress into her office. He looks straight into the eyes of every boy staring at him, and sees Mark. Donghyuck can’t read his expression. Sungho, seemingly shocked into a stupor, follows far behind.

Headmistress Yoon’s office is dark and woody, and smells distinctly of pine like the rest of the school. She motions to the chairs in front of her desk, and they sit down reluctantly. Donghyuck feels like he’s about to be sentenced to death.

“Boys, I’m going to be straight with you.” She turns to Donghyuck, icy gaze never wavering.

“You. As I’m sure you’ve already gathered, you are being watched very carefully. A big part of the reputation of this academy relies on the students here. We have one of the highest graduation rates in the country, and many of you boys go on to continue your studies at one of Korea’s most prestigious universities. The world is watching us. So, when something is out of order, we need to nip it in the bud.” She turns to Sungho.

“And you. How many times have we found ourselves in this office in a similar situation?”

“I-”

“Doctor Han has always been very generous and giving to our school, and we will always appreciate that. But we need you to cooperate, too.”

His father is a doctor? Donghyuck leans back in his seat. Of course. What happens when you piss off a doctor’s son? Sounds like the lead-up to a punchline. Maybe he’ll remove one of Donghyuck’s kidneys in retaliation.

“I understand, Headmistress,” Sungho says, and he’s a completely different person than he was five minutes ago, prim and proper and docile. Donghyuck resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“You two will be going to detention this weekend in room 103. No questions.” She gets out two pink slips from her desk drawer and writes them both up. “Donghyuck, this is strike one. Sungho, you know the drill. Get it. Together.”

There is a heavy silence as Headmistress Yoon delicately starts to flip through some files on her desk, the chripring of the birds outside of her window punctuating each flip.

“You may leave.”

Donghyuck scurries out of there faster than a bat out of hell and runs all the way to his room.

―

“You’re dumb.”

“What?” Donghyuck asks, half distracted by the track team going through their weekly drills. He’s actually starting to enjoy the sport in a completely normal and innocent way, thank you very much.

“You’re dumb. Why did you do that?” Jaemin, now a victim of being dragged along to every track meet Donghyuck watches, picks at his nails boredly.

Donghyuck scoffs. “Uh, a kid was getting bullied, you sociopath.”

“I’m not asking why you saved the kid, I would've done the same thing if I were there. I’m asking why you saved the kid. Figured you would keep your head down. But you're an attention seeker, it seems.”

Whatever weird love-hate frenemy Shakespearean level rivalry he and Jaemin have going on is totally hurting his head. Just another thing on his plate he can’t figure out what to do about.

“I am not an attention seeker,” Donghyuck whines, watching Mark bend over and touch his toes at the end of the track.

“It's not necessarily a bad thing, Donghyuck-ah. Some attention seekers are cool.”

“You're so mean to me,” Donghyuck says with no bite. “And to think we basically just met.”

“I’m very nice,” Jaemin simpers.

“You know what. Go away. Don’t you have friends?” Donghyuck huffs. “Go bother them instead.”

“This is my new project,” Jaemin says matter-of-factly. “I’m going to figure out why you got expelled. It’s my new purpose.”

“You must live a pretty sad liffe.”

“My life is fine,” Jaemin says. “And you’re the one who won’t stop bothering me.”

“Maybe I think you’re really cool, Jaemin-ah,” Donghyuck coos and reaches up to try and pinch his cheek, and Jaemin decks him in the face.

Later that day, Mark catches him after the last bell of the day has rang.

“That was cool. What you did,” is how Mark greets him at his locker. “Sungho-ssi has always been a bit of an…”

“Asshole,” Donghyuck finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Mark crinkles his nose like he wants to laugh or maybe sneeze or both, and Donghyuck thinks he looks so cute. “An asshole.”

“Too bad,” Donghyuck sighs and slams his locker shut, turning towards Mark. “That guy’s gonna be on my ass now. He’s what, 18 and like 6’2? What steroids is he even taking? He’ll pummel me.”

“Nah,” Mark shakes his head. “He’s harmless. He won’t do anything.”

Donghyuck pouts. “Didn't seem too harmless to me.”

“What is it they say, all bark and no bite? Yeah. But if he tries something, just let me know. I’ll deal with it.”

Oh? “You’ll be my knight in shining armor?” Donghyuck teases, putting a palm against his heart. He’s not really swooning, though, never.

Mark’s ears heat up and he makes a funny little face. “Ha, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says. For being the only normal person in this fucking school. You’re so cute. Do you like boys? Probably not. What’s your favorite bible verse? I really like, uhm, Psalms. One of them. Donghyuck leaves this part out.

“No problem,” Mark nods, and kindness is so natural to him, coming off of him in waves. ”If you ever need anything, let me know. Is this place treating you a bit better, at least? I saw you’ve been hanging out with Na Jaemin a lot, are you guys friends?”

“Uh, sure,” Donghyuck answers. He doesn’t know if what they are is considered friends, but his mind is mostly reeling from Mark being so nice to him. Damn this boy. Or, well, bless this boy. If there’s a heaven, there’s most definitely a seat up there with Mark Lee’s name written on it.

“That’s great, man. Look, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you around campus.”

“Yeah. Bye, Mark.” Donghyuck waves at him, why the fuck is he waving? Mark grins and waves back, turning around and walking away.

Fuck it. “Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck calls after him, and Mark turns back around with wide eyes, curious.

“Yeah?”

“Would you wanna try that new ramen place they just opened right next to here? Me and Jaemin were supposed to go together, but something came up,” Donghyuck lies. Him and Jaemin were planning on doing no such thing. So much for ‘thou shalt not lie.’ Donghyuck’s morals are obviously becoming skewed because of Mark, who must be an incubus or something.

“Oh,” Mark says. Donghyuck is certainly not nervous. “Yeah, for sure. Let me give you my number.”

Donghyuck: 1. Universe: 0.

“Do not let your heart turn aside to her ways,

Do not stray into her paths;

For she has cast down many wounded,

And all who were slain by her were strong men.

Her house is the way to hell,

Descending to the chambers of death.” Proverbs 7:25-27

―

Room 103 is one of the smaller classrooms in the school, if it could even be considered small. It has the same tall, cathedral-like ceiling as most of the rooms in the school, and it is dark and woody.

Sungho sits next to Donghyuck, looking like he can’t even fathom why he’s here in the first place. Donghyuck stares straight ahead, looking at the teacher supervising (reading a book) the two of them at the front. All that can be heard is the whir of the central air system and the sound of Donghyuck bouncing his leg incessantly out of boredom. The birds chirp happily outside, and Donghyuck thinks they don’t know how lucky they are.

”Can you stop that?” Sungho asks suddenly.

“He speaks,” Donghyuck deadpans, continuing to bounce his leg.

“Whatever,” Sungho grumbles, and turns away to look out the big window to the left, probably thinking of jumping. Donghyuck isn’t far behind.

“Quiet, you two,” the man at the front barks out. His hair is buzzed down, and he looks like a military sergeant. Donghyuck stops bouncing his leg.

“Sorry,” they bow their heads in unison.

The birds continue to chirp and Donghyuck drums his fingers against the cold wooden desk in front of him. What are you supposed to do in detention besides contemplate killing yourself? Donghyuck was at least expecting to write ‘I will not push other boys’ on the whiteboard 100 times.

The minutes continue to slowly tick away, and eventually the sergeant gets up to leave the room. For what, Donghyuck doesn’t know. He probably got too bored to do his job.

The door slams shut behind him and Donghyuck slouches down in his chair.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Sungho huffs out, and he looks like a petulant child about to throw a tantrum.

“Tell me about it,” Donghyuck answers. “I’m wasting 2 hours of my life I’ll never get back because of you.”

“Whatever, Jeju.” Sungho buries his head into his outstretched arms like he’s about to take a fucking nap.

“My name is Donghyuck,” Donghyuck says for what feels like the hundredth time since he arrived here.

“Whatever, Donghyuck.” Wow, not even a little bit of respect. But it’s a start!

“See, was that so hard?”

“Stop talking to me.”

“I’m trying to kill time,” Donghyuck whines, standing up and rolling his shoulders. He makes his way over to the teacher’s desk at the front of the room and sits down in the chair. “This room is literally a torture device. If they were trying to get information out of me, I would’ve talked a long time ago.”

“Mm,” Sungho hums noncommittally from where his face is resting on the desk.

Donghyuck reaches into his blazer pocket and walks over, throwing a pack of playing cards at his head.

Sungho flinches and glares at him, cards falling in his lap. “What the hell?”

“Wanna play cards?” Donghyuck asks, dragging the teacher’s chair over to the other side of Sungho’s desk.

Sungho stares at him blankly, unimpressed.

“What? They said no electronics or food, never anything about cards.”

And that’s how they end up in a heated battle of crazy eights.

“So, are you one of those people who gets nerds to do their homework for them?”

Sungho snorts and throws down a 4. “What do you think?”

“Mm, I think you’re probably smart but just lazy. Or maybe it’s a power thing.” Donghyuck changes the suit and strokes his chin, thinking. “Does bullying people get you off?”

“What the hell, dude.” Sungho wrinkles his nose and calls crazy eight. “I’m not fucking gay.”

Donghyuck cackles loudly and changes the suit again, not even bothering to be offended. “That’s your first thought? Listen, you can be straight with me. Is it because you just can’t do math?”

“Fuck you,” Sungho says, and throws down an 8, all out of cards. “It’s none of your business, anyway.” None of the usual bite is there. “Out.”

“Goddamnit,” Donghyuck says, throwing down his hand. “I mean, uh, darn it.”

“That’s no way to speak in a catholic school.”

Two hours eventually come to an end, and the sergeant comes back in the middle of a passionate round of rock, paper, scissors.

“Cut that out. You’re free to go,” he says like they were in a holding cell.

Donghyuck hops up and bows deeply before the sergeant.

“Bye!”

Later that night is his meetup with Mark. Donghyuck is, quite frankly, ecstatic. You didn’t hear that from him, though. When Donghyuck arrives at the new ramen spot, he spots Mark at a table in the back. He’s wearing his Real Person clothes, and he looks so young. Donghyuck takes a deep breath and steels himself.

“Yo, Donghyuck!” Mark waves him over excitedly, and he sits down across from him.

“Yo,” Donghyuck repeats in English. “Hey, Mark.”

“You look…” Mark trails off and looks Donghyuck over.

“Do I have something in my teeth?”

Mark laughs a little and Donghyuck resists the urge to coo and fuss over him like an overprotective grandma. “Nah, you just… look normal. Like a person. I guess.”

“You guess?'“ Donghyuck’s primal teasing instincts are really brought out around this boy. There’s definitely very real science and cold hard facts behind this phenomenon.

“Yeah,” Mark laughs, and he looks like he’s nervous, why would he be nervous? Donghyuck subconsciously leans forward in fascination as a waitress comes over to ask them if they would like drinks.

"Do you guys have Monster? I need energy,” Donghyuck asks, and Mark looks at him like he’s grown another head. The waitress laughs at him and writes down ‘Monster’ on her pen pad, and Mark orders a soda.

“I’m really pooped, alright?” Donghyuck defends when she leaves, banging his fist on the table dramatically. “I had to sit through a two hour detention, and let me tell you, it is nothing like The Breakfast Club.”

Mark… giggles? Guffaws? What is that laugh? Donghyuck is enamored. It’s a fascinating mix between goofy and endearing, and Donghyuck almost throws up all over the table.

“I’ve never been to detention before,” Mark says, and of course he hasn’t. He probably sings to animals on his way to school like Snow White.

“Of course you haven’t,” Donghyuck says out loud, leaning his cheek against his hand. “You probably get gold stars on your report card.”

“You don’t?” Mark jokes, and a warm feeling settles into Donghyuck’s bones. Oh man, he thinks. This isn’t good. Abort mission!

The waitress comes back just in time to save Donghyuck from his spiraling, and he orders a shit ton of appetizers to stuff his mouth with to prevent himself from saying anything stupid and/or incriminating. He cracks open his beloved Monster Energy and takes a giant swig.

“You drink like my grandpa,” Mark comments, and Donghyuck slams the can back down onto the table, suppressing an unattractive burp.

“He must be very attractive,” Donghyuck notes, and Mark cackles this time, the sound ricocheting throughout the small restaurant. He slaps a hand over his mouth and Donghyuck laughs even harder, a hiccup getting caught in his throat.

“Dude, you’re funny,” Mark says after he’s recovered from his momentary embarrassment. “I’m glad we’re hangin’ out,” he says easily and earnestly, and Donghyuck almost shrinks under his steady gaze. Almost.

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says with fake bravado. "You’re kinda cool too, I guess.”

“You guess?” Mark asks this time and raises an eyebrow.

Yeah, this guy is definitely a problem.

―

There are two rules to follow in order to survive in life, according to Lee Donghyuck. Rule number one: Take other people’s words like water off a duck’s back. Rule number two: Do not fall for boys, like Mark Lee, for example.

Alright, let’s spare everyone the sob story. Everyone knows the verse. Thou shall not lie with a male as with a woman. It is an abomination. Classic Leviticus. Donghyuck isn’t 100% about his opinion on the bible, but if God didn’t want him to look at boys like that, why did He create Mark Lee? He has many questions for his great father in the sky.

Him and Mark aren’t friends, really, but they’re friendly enough. Mark walks with him to first period. Mark fist bumps him after his first school performance with the acapella choir team. Mark doesn’t question why Donghyuck is always attending their track practices after school.

Mark has a girlfriend.

Her name is Daeun and she’s perfect. She’s a part of the debate team at her school, and she’s on track to be valedictorian and a promising young law student. Donghyuck knows this because of Jaemin, who seems to know everybody’s business even though he interacts with a maximum of like three people everyday.

“She comes to their cross country meets all the time. She’s very pretty.”

Two things are true. One: Donghyuck does not care who Mark Lee dates. Two: Donghyuck cannot have Mark. Ever.

He can live with that. Donghyuck is nothing if not a smart boy. He knows the things he can’t have, knows the life that was planned out for him before he was born, tries his very hardest (kind of) not to veer off that path. He has people to please and money to make. He has shit to do and people to meet. These are just facts of life.

Donghyuck meets Daeun at the first official track meet of the season. The team is up against their rival school, some very slightly less pretentious Episcopalian school some blocks away. The boys on their team look like multiple photocopied versions of Andre the Giant, and Donghyuck wonders if their team even has a chance. Hopefully Mark, the golden boy that he is, will lead them to victory.

Somewhere along the way, Donghyuck has become completely invested in the success of the team. Not because of Mark, or the other hot boys, or anything like that. He must be coming down with something.

“Go, Markie!” Daeun cheers from the bleachers, scarf bouncing on her neck as she jumps up and down. Donghyuck does not scowl.

“You look constipated,” Jaemin says from his seat next to him. Donghyuck wants to deck him, but he also needs him here for moral support.

“I do not,” Donghyuck replies lamely, and searches for Mark on the field. He eventually spots him in all of his glory, black hair pushed back from his forehead by the steady wind. Donghyuck watches as the muscles in his arms contract as he stretches, back and forth, back and forth. He eventually spots Daeun in the bleachers, and the most beautiful smile spreads across his face as he waves at her. A fire starts in Donghyuck’s belly and spreads all the way up to his throat.

All the while, Jaemin is side-eyeing him curiously. “Are you okay?” he asks, no snark or thinly veiled exasperation in his voice. Donghyuck knows that Jaemin probably actually cares, as weird and unattainable as he is. He nods and forces himself to snap out of it, (in fact, there is no it to snap out of in the first place) smiling mischievously at Jaemin.

“I’ve decided that I’m rooting for the other team.”

Jaemin definitely notices that Donghyuck changed the subject but doesn’t say anything about it. He raises an eyebrow. “What happened to school spirit?”

“I have none of that,” Donghyuck answers, wrapping his coat tighter around himself as the breeze picks up. “I’m praying for the downfall of everyone and everything at this school. You included.”

“I’m flattered,” Jaemin smiles at him placatingly. A pause. “Except Mark.”

“Huh?”

“You’re praying for the downfall of everyone and everything except Mark,” he replies matter-of-factly.

Donghyuck blanches. “What makes you think that?”

“Nothing,” and Jaemin continues to smile that same infuriating, wide-mouthed smile.

“Whatever,” Donghyuck scoffs, and he knows he hasn’t been caught out. Donghyuck is loud, but he’s careful. He’s boisterous, but he knows where to draw the line. Sometimes. Jaemin has just noticed they’ve been talking, that’s all.

The track meet starts off with a bang, literally, and of course they use starter pistols at this school. Donghyuck watches Mark the whole time, and there’s something poetic about the way he runs like he’s got nothing to lose. Their ace, their star player, their captain.

Mark does, in fact, lead them to victory, and just barely. Without him, they’d be sore losers and their coach would probably be punching a hole in a wall somewhere. The Episcopalian douchebags are really disappointed, and Donghyuck doesn’t understand why some people get so fired up over sports. It’s just running, for Christ’s sake.

“Go, Markie!” Daeun says again as he passes the finish line, is that all she knows how to say, Go, Markie?

Don’t make fun of this poor, innocent girl just because of your passing fancy for Mark, Donghyuck’s brain chides. If anything, this girl will help you get over it.

That’s true, Donghyuck’s brain responds to itself.

Daeun is really, very pretty.

With her big eyes and her cute bob haircut, Donghyuck can see what Mark sees in her, and he doesn’t blame him. Maybe in some alternate universe, Donghyuck is the one dating Daeun, and Mark is left to suffer.

Donghyuck catches Mark after the meet, with Daeun not far behind.

“You did really well today,” Donghyuck says earnestly. “You really are the golden boy.”

Mark scrunches his nose and lets out a laugh, and Donghyuck directs his gaze to his neck instead of his face. There’s a mole on the side of it, and that’s a completely objective fact. When you look, you notice things, that’s all.

“Thanks, man,” Mark replies, and right on cue Daeun hops up to Mark and back-hugs him.

“Congratulations!” she squeals, and Donghyuck almost finds himself cooing. He won’t hate this girl.

“Yeah, congratulations, Markie,” Donghyuck simpers, and Mark looks at him, clearly frazzled.

“Who’s this?” Daeun seems to notice Donghyuck’s existence for the first time, and he bows deeply.

“Oh, uh, this is Donghyuck,” Mark shakes his head as if to rid of his embarrassment and introduces them. “Donghyuck, this is my girlfriend, Daeun.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” she reaches out to shake his hand excitedly and Donghyuck laughs. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up to the sky and he turns to Mark. “Oh, really?”

“Haha, yeah, I guess.” Mark rubs the back of his head. “I was telling her about the new student at school.”

“You must be very cool, Donghyuck-ssi,” Daeun stage whispers, still back hugging Mark. “I heard about your introduction, and what you said to Sungho. You’re like a real life hero!”

Donghyuck puffs up, just a little bit, at the validation of all of his very hard work. “Well, you know Daeun-ssi, it’s difficult but it’s honest work. Someone has to do it, and it seems that person is me,” he says valiantly.

“Mark told me you were funny!” she exclaims and turns to him, their faces very close. Donghyuck can’t help but feel happy for them, if not a little murderous.

“He is, right?” And Donghyuck feels like he’s interrupting something.

“Me and Jaemin are gonna go grab a bite,” Donghyuck lies, and in that moment he is eternally grateful for whatever he and Jaemin have going on because it gets him out of a lot of things, like this, for example.

Daeun and Mark seem to snap out of their weird love bubble and she perks up like a puppy. “Oh! Me, Markie-yah, and the team are gonna go grab some pizza at that place around the corner. It’s tradition after a win. You guys should totally join us.”

Mark perks up at this and nods his head fervently. “Yeah, you guys should join! You can meet the team! They’ve been dying to meet you.” And for some crazy reason, Donghyuck thinks that can’t be true.

“Sure,” Donghyuck replies smoothly, and what the fuck, why did he say that? He knows Jaemin is gonna be pissed, and that makes him feel the slightest bit better. “Let me go get Jaemin.”

He scurries back up into the bleachers and stands in front of Jaemin who’s typing something on his phone. “We’re getting pizza with the team.”

Jaemin looks up and cocks his head. “What?”

“We’re getting pizza with the team.” Donghyuck bounces on his heels in anticipation. “I may have sort of gotten us into a predicament.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes into reptilian slits and points at Donghyuck. “What did you do?”

“No time to explain, let’s go!” Donghyuck yanks Jaemin up by the arm and drags him down to where the team has gathered, now dressed in their tracksuits. He hears Jaemin sigh dramatically and lets go of his arm as they saddle up to the team. Jaemin immediately puts on his most award-winning smile like he wasn’t just ready to murder Donghyuck two seconds ago, and Donghyuck almost praises his acting skills. They’re even better than his own.

“Hi, nice to see you, Mark-ssi. Hello, team. It’s nice to meet you guys. Congrats on your win!” He bows before them and they follow suit, Donghyuck belatedly realizing he should also bow.

Mark introduces the both of them to the rest of the team, and they start to make their way to the pizza shop. Donghyuck can’t lie, the team seems pretty normal. There doesn’t seem to be much difference between him and them, besides the fact that they probably own yachts and Donghyuck doesn’t. Maybe he’ll get through this night unscathed.

They all pile into a giant booth, some other guys’ girlfriends and friends joining. The place is bustling with people, the sound of some 00’s pop hit playing over the speakers, and Donghyuck feels himself relaxing into his seat a little. Jaemin, in contrast, is on high alert next to him. Only Donghyuck can tell, his big eyes searching, his long eyelashes fluttering as he blinks. He’s very pretty.

“I’m so excited for our next meet,” Mark’s voice snaps Donghyuck out of his reverie, and he realizes he was staring. Wanting Jaemin is like wanting everything. He won’t do that.

“Me too, dude,” one of the guys says, Hakun, if Donghyuck remembers correctly. “We’re gonna kick some Presbyterian ass.” Cheers and hoots resound around the table and Donghyuck joins in like he knows what they’re talking about.

The pizzas they ordered come, and Donghyuck and Jaemin fight over who gets the biggest slice of pepperoni.

“So, Donghyuck-ssi, you’re from Jeju Island, right?” one of the girls whose name Donghyuck cannot remember for the life of him asks.

“Mm,” he says with a mouthful of pizza he stole from Jaemin. “I was born here, but I moved to Jeju when I was young, yeah.”

“That’s awesome,” she smiles at him and he can’t help but to smile back at her. “My dad’s side of the family is from Jeju.”

“It must be hard, right?” one of the guys pipes up, and Donghyuck cocks his head to the side.

“What must be hard?”

“You know, coming back to Seoul and then coming to our school. It must be so different.”

Different, huh. “I mean, yeah,” Donghyuck puts down his soda. “But you and I aren’t so different, I don’t think.”

“That’s not true,” Hakun interjects and scoffs loudly, putting down his slice of pizza. Everyone at the booth looks up from their side conversations. “Like, at all.”

Hm, I wonder what you mean by that, Donghyuck thinks.

“Why, because I’m there on a scholarship?”

A dramatic hush falls over the booth as Hakun looks like he’s not gonna back down, while the other guy who started the conversation is eyeing the both of them warily.

“Well, yeah. We just come from different places, that’s all I’m saying, man.”

“Mm,” Donghyuck hums placatingly. “So because I don’t wipe my ass with gold encrusted toilet paper, I’m different, huh?”

Jaemin nudges him with his foot under the table but Donghyuck pointedly ignores his warning. Hakun seems to get riled up at this, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “Listen. My father worked really hard to get to where he is today. If your parents didn’t do that, don’t take it out on me.”

“Don’t talk about my fucking parents.” Donghyuck stands up abruptly from where he was seated and stands at the head of the booth. “Dickhead.” Donghyuck takes the first cup of soda he sees and dumps it ceremoniously over Hakun’s head. Probably root beer. The brown liquid drips down his tracksuit, and he sputters as it goes into his mouth and up his nose. A stray ice cube falls to the ground, and Donghyuck can hear a couple people in the restaurant gasp, scandalized.

“What the fuck?!” Hakun shrieks, and he shoots up from his seat, ready to pummel Donghyuck. Root beer droplets splash onto the boy sitting to his left, and Mark, who’s sitting to his right. Right, Mark. He root-beered one of Mark’s teammates.

They both hold him back and attempt to calm him down, and Donghyuck chances a glance towards Jaemin, who is barely hiding the subtly satisfied look on his face. He raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement. Everyone else is looking at Donghyuck like he’s just committed murder, as if he was in the wrong. Daeun has a hand over her mouth. Mark looks like he’s about to cry.

“It was very nice to meet you all,” Donghyuck breaks the silence, and bows deeply. He walks out of the restaurant unceremoniously and calls an Uber to the nearest gaming café.

When Donghyuck gets back to campus that night, it's two minutes to curfew. He got very invested in that last round of PUBG.

He sneaks inside as quietly as humanly possible, tiptoeing to his room. When he unlocks the door, Seowoon is up in bed reading some pretentious book, as usual. He doesn’t spare Donghyuck a glance as he makes his way over to his side of the room, shrugging off his jacket and putting down his keys.

“You’re really rude,” Donghyuck says matter-of-factly, laying down and immediately opening up the Kartrider app.

“Mhm,” Seowoon hums noncommittally, flipping to the next page.

Donghyuck whines. He’s always been one to thrive off of other people’s attention, no matter who it came from. And this guy does the exact opposite of that. Donghyuck would prefer to be called Jeju, or poor, or spat on, something other than this silent treatment.

He throws down his phone, his little character in Kartrider veering off of the track and into the abyss, and makes his way over to Seowoon.

“What’s your favorite color?

“What?” Seowoon finally looks at him for what feels like the first time since they started living together.

“I said, what’s your favorite color?”

“Why?”

“Is it that hard to answer a question?” Donghyuck huffs and sits his ass down on Seowoon’s bed, much to his dismay.

“Dude, get off my bed.”

“I’ll get off if you tell me your favorite color.”

Seowoon’s eyes narrow and he looks Donghyuck up and down like he’s the most disgusting creature to ever walk the Earth. “What are you up to?”

Donghyuck scoffs incredulously and crosses his arms. “Why do I always have to be up to something? Can’t I just wanna get to know my mysterious roommate?”

Seowoon blinks at him, unimpressed, and Donghyuck groans. “Fine. I just want a friend, alright. Everyone here is so mean to me, geez.” He gets up and walks back over to his bed, opening Kartrider again. All that can be heard in the room is the aircon and the peppy racing soundtrack ringing from Donghyuck’s phone. There’s a long silence.

“It’s yellow.”

Donghyuck looks up from his phone in confusion. “Huh?”

“My favorite color,” Seowoon says like he’s dumb, “is yellow.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says. “I was expecting something more depressing, like grey.”

“Very funny.”

This is one of the longest conversations they’ve ever had. Donghyuck considers it a win.

The following week, Donghyuck can tell he’s fucked up. Again.

If he’s being completely honest, he forgot he poured root beer all over Seo Hakun, who just so happens to be the son of the dean of admissions. Just his luck. Whispers have spread all around campus about how Jeju, no, Lee Donghyuck, completely humiliated Hakun at the old pizza spot down the road after the first big track meet of the year. Not to mention, half of campus was at said pizza spot after the meet. If you ask Donghyuck, he didn’t notice.

As much as they like to deny it, teenage boys love gossip. And gossip spreads fast. By Monday, everyone on campus is privy to Donghyuck’s predicament, which he does not appreciate at all.

On his way to calculus, people are trying not to stare at him but are evidently failing miserably. Some nerd moves out of his way like he’s scared. One guy fist bumps him and says, “Fuck yeah, root beer!” That’s new.

Donghyuck bumps into Mark after class.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks him immediately with wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just … you know. Rootbeer-gate.”

Donghyuck cackles loudly and a couple of people in passing eye the pair curiously.

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck says seriously. “And if I get kicked out of school, I could always become a pornstar.”

“Huh?”

“Joking.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mark’s eyebrows furrow and his gaze suddenly gets more intense than usual. “Why did you do that, though?”

“Do what?”

“Pour root beer on Hakun,” Mark says.

“‘Cause he’s a dickhead,” Donghyuck shrugs, putting his calculus textbook into his locker. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Mark frowns, and oh, Donghyuck wasn’t expecting this from him.

“I'm just saying,” Mark continues at Donghyuck’s sour expression, “Everyone knows that the board is always watching you and waiting for your next move. If you keep making noise, you'll get expelled.”

Donghyuck scoffs, but Mark doesn’t back down.

“I’m just concerned.”

“Whatever.” Donghyuck doesn’t have time for this conversation. He doesn’t care what Mark thinks about him. (He ignores the small twinge of pain in his throat.)

“I’m serious,” and Mark grabs onto his arm, looking at him earnestly. Donghyuck almost stops being mad as he’s held in place by his eyes.

Donghyuck wrestles out of his grip, not that Mark was holding him that tight, and slams his locker. “Whatever,” he repeats.

“Donghyuck, wait,” he calls after him. Donghyuck keeps walking.

―

The days start to slowly mesh together, passing by slow and steady, and autumn prepares to freeze into winter. Donghyuck makes a wonky snowman in the courtyard with the little bit of pre-winter frost that gathers on the ground, which is subsequently mowed over by a faculty worker.

The days roll by, and he’s avoiding Mark. Or maybe, it’s the other way around.

It’s officially been two weeks since Rootbeer-gate. Time flies when you’re having fun. Donghyuck hasn’t really seen Hakun since then, but he’s still enrolled in school, so that’s a good sign.

“Maybe I should apologize to him,” Donghyuck says, huffing into his hands to give them some warmth. The dining hall is loud with the clatter of dishes and loud chatter.

Jaemin gives him a lukewarm look. “But you won’t.”

“Hey, you don’t know what I’ll do!” Donghyuck defends, stabbing his rice with a chopstick. “I’m a loose cannon. I’m an enigma.”

“In your dreams, maybe.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck dismisses and strokes his chin as he starts to think. “I think I might apologize. You know, just in case I still need to save my ass. He could be plotting my downfall as we speak, and I wouldn’t even know.”

“He definitely is.”

“I’m gonna apologize,” Donghyuck nods to himself.

“Interesting,” Jaemin says, staring at Donghyuck like he’s a test subject.

“Where does Hakun-ssi usually hang?” Donghyuck asks Jaemin, grabbing his wrists urgently. “I need to save my ass.”

“What makes you think I know?” Jaemin’s wrists hang limply in Donghyuck’s grip as he steadies him with a look.

“You know everything.”

“True,” Jaemin agrees, shimmying out of Donghyuck’s death grip. “Well, if you really wanna know, I’ll tell you.”

Donghyuck finds out that Hakun, as well as being a track star, is also a member of the debate club. Interesting, but okay. He also finds out what dorm building Hakun lives in, as well as his room number. How Jaemin knows these details, Donghyuck is afraid to ask.

Donghyuck ends up not needing the intel after all, because he finally runs into Hakun in the bathroom the next day.

“Hakun-ssi!” Donghyuck exclaims and Hakun flinches, in the process of zipping up his pants at the urinals. Probably not the best time to approach a man.

“Donghyuck-ssi,” he glares, and the use of his real name is duly noted. “What do you want? Gonna pour soda over my fucking head again?”

Donghyuck flinches. “Yeah, I came to talk to you about that.”

“And what is there to talk about?”

You’re really making this hard, Donghyuck thinks to himself. “I wanted to say that… I’m sorry. For assaulting you with root beer. It was a dick move.” A dick move that was deserved, his brain helpfully confers.

“I look like a fucking idiot now,” Hakun says in turn. You are a fucking idiot. “That shit was really embarrassing. My reputation is just barely recovering.”

“Mhm,” Donghyuck supplies painfully, holding back from insulting him and/or commenting on how unimportant literally all of this is.

There’s a silence as Hakun eyes him warily. “I’m not gonna get you kicked out, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Donghyuck lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and deflates a little. “Oh, that’s great. Thanks.”

“Uh huh,” Hakun replies, going over to the sink to wash his hands. A boy who washes his hands after he pees! At least he has some redeeming qualities. “I did wanna get you expelled somehow after it happened, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Hakun says as he dries off his hands. “I was pissed.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I mean, I would be too.”

“Yeah,” Hakun replies again, and stands in front of Donghyuck for the second time. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, alright? Let’s just forget this happened. An eye for an eye.”

He doesn't say sorry, but Donghyuck assumes this is his way of apologizing.

“Sure,” Donghyuck agrees, and that’s that.

One less problem in his life to solve, except he and Mark still aren’t talking, not that they were friends in the first place.

Donghyuck can’t even do his homework or pester Jaemin in peace because he misses seeing his stupid face and hearing his laugh, and God, why is he this far gone for a boy who has a girlfriend, for Christ’s sake? All he can hear in his head is Mark’s little ‘hahaha’ he does when he finds something hilarious. Mark is dumb. Mark is so nice.

They bump into each other, literally, in the dorm corridor three nights later, when Donghyuck is on his way to the water fountain.

“Mark?” Donghyuck questions, rubbing his nose where it bumped into Mark’s shoulder. He was trying to play Kartrider and walk at the same time, which obviously wasn’t a good idea.

“Donghyuck-ah?” he says, rubbing his shoulder. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing a pair of round glasses that make him look like Harry Potter. Donghyuck’s heart thunders painfully in his chest. “What are you doing out here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Touché.” Mark looks down. “I’ve been, uh, meaning to talk to you.” He continues before Donghyuck can interject. “I shouldn't have said what I said... Hakun-ah was really wrong to speak about your parents like that,” he says quietly and looks down like he's ashamed. Donghyuck's heart aches a little.

“It's okay,” Donghyuck says, and he almost means it.

“It's not,” Mark looks up again, determined. “I do understand why you do the things you do. I shouldn't have said it… just… be careful, okay? There are people who would miss you if you were gone. Me included.” He claps Donghyuck on the back awkwardly, like he’s trying to comfort him but isn't sure how, and Donghyuck falls a bit further.

“I know. Thank you,” Donghyuck says. “Really.”

Universe: 1. Donghyuck: back to zero.

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor:

If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.

But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.

But how can one keep warm alone?” Ecclesiastes 4:9

―

Donghyuck and Mark are friends, sort of.

After the conclusion of their disagreement, things went back to the easy and stress-free way they were before, minus Donghyuck’s burgeoning crush on Mark. He can deal with it, though. Donghyuck’s mother did not raise a coward. He’ll get through it. He always does.

It’s been months.

Usually, Donghyuck’s puppy loves last a couple weeks, max. He gets bored easily, exasperated by the promise of absolutely nothing, moving on to the next one. But Mark—Mark. He’s different, as much as Donghyuck hates to think about it. He isn’t sure what it is. Maybe Donghyuck is just desperate, yeah, maybe it’s that. He’s slowly gone insane from his past unrequited loves, he’s finally lost it, this is God’s punishment for his sin. An eternity of loneliness.

Mark invites him to his dorm the following Thursday.

Donghyuck is just there to play video games, because they’re bros, and that’s what bros do. Game. Watch sports. Talk about girls. Donghyuck can do that, easy. Donghyuck can pretend he isn’t burning up on the inside, easy.

Mark’s roommate is out, so it’s just the two of them, and that’s perfectly normal, nothing that any sane person would make any note of. (Really, Donghyuck has never been normal, in most senses of the word.) It looks like any typical boy’s dorm room, shoes strewn about, posters on the wall, empty takeout containers on desks. Mark has a giant bookcase on his side of the room, and Donghyuck surveys it as Mark turns on his gaming console.

“You like to read?” Donghyuck asks him, running his fingertips over the dusty spine of a Murakami.

Mark looks up from the television and perks up immediately, his thin eyebrows jumping up his forehead. “Love it. I really like writing, too.”

“Interesting,” Donghyuck says, and he really is interested. There’s a lot more to Mark than meets the eye, and Donghyuck wants to discover all of his little things.

“Mm,” Mark hums, turning back to the tv. “So, are you gonna get over here or what?”

Donghyuck sits next to Mark on his bed and proceeds to beat his ass in 13 rounds of Mario Kart. All those hours of sleep lost to gaming have really paid off well.

“You definitely rigged this,” Mark cackles as his Yoshi falls to its death in Rainbow Road, laughing so hard he leans into Donghyuck a little bit.

“You’re just really bad this,” Donghyuck teases back, butterflies in his stupid stomach as Mark’s hair brushes against his cheek from him falling to the side in hysterics.

“I’m normally really good at Mario Kart,” Mark pouts, putting his control down. “You’re just a cheater, dude.”

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” Donghyuck nudges him in the side, and Mark punches his arm. “Whatever.”

A comfortable silence washes over them as Mark turns off the console and the tv, and the sun is now fully set outside, leaving them in the dark and the glow of the moon. Mark flips on the light. “Next time, we’re gonna play Smash so I can beat you.”

Next time, next time, next time. Donghyuck’s head spins, and he composes himself quickly.

“You’re on.”

Donghyuck gets up from Mark’s bed and decides to be nosy, looking around his rooms. There’s a lone basketball in the corner, posters of singers and athletes plastered on his walls, and an Iron Man funko pop on his desk. Also on his desk is a picture of Mark as a child and what Donghyuck presumes to be his parents. He smiles at the little version of Mark, that same smile on his face. There are papers thrown all about, some look like poems, others are definitely unfinished calculus homework.

Donghyuck walks back over to his bookshelf and surveys it closely. “Shakespeare?” Donghyuck laughs, plucking a copy of Macbeth out from the top and flipping it open.

“I was forced to read a lot of his plays, okay?” Mark grumbles, watching Donghyuck curiously from his bed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Only terribly boring,” Donghyuck notes, flipping until he finds something mildly interesting.

“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.”

Mark nods along, hair shaking up and down. “That’s a good one. Here, let me show you my favorite quote." He pads over to where Donghyuck is standing and takes the book from him, and he’s so close and smells like fresh laundry. Donghyuck inhales softly.

“Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.

Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,

Yet Grace must still look so.”

“What does it mean?” Donghyuck whispers, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“He’s saying that goodness can still exist even if a man like Macbeth became evil,” Mark matches his hushed tone, like he’s telling a secret. “You know the saying ‘one rotten apple spoils the barrel?’ Shakespeare is refuting that by saying that just because one person does wrong, doesn’t mean all people will.”

“Oh,” is all Donghyuck whispers back, admiring Mark’s side profile. He returns to a normal volume. “That’s poetic. You’re very smart.”

“Not really,” Mark huffs out a laugh, and puts the book back on the shelf. “I still have a lot to learn.”

“What’s the saying? The smartest people admit that they know nothing? Some Socratic shit.”

“Yeah,” Mark gives him a lopsided grin. “I do know nothing.”

“I don’t know anything either,” Donghyuck agrees. “I guess that means we’re geniuses.”

Donghyuck goes back to his room that night on cloud nine, and, okay, maybe it’s kind of because of Mark. But not really. He’s just been in a great mood lately!

“You look happy,” Seowoon comments when Donghyuck opens the door late that night, whistling a cheery tune to himself.

“Just high on life,” Donghyuck replies, skipping giddily to his bed. “You should try it sometime.”

“You’re weird,” is all Seowoon answers, and turns back to his giant copy of War and Peace. Jesus.

The next day, Donghyuck attends track practice like he always used to, no irritated Jaemin in tow. Why that boy even humors him, he’ll probably never know.

Mark spots him in the bleachers and waves at him excitedly almost like he did to Daeun the day of their first win, and Donghyuck sighs wistfully. Mark would never look at him in the same way, though.

After practice, Mark comes to sit down next to him at the top of the bleachers. He’s gross and sweaty, and Donghyuck thinks he looks beautiful.

“Hey! It was weird not seeing you at the last couple of practices when we… weren’t talking.”

“I missed you too,” Donghyuck replies cheekily, and Mark rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Do you wanna come to the arcade out west with the team tonight? I can give you the pummeling you deserve.”

You can pummel me anytime, Donghyuck thinks, and braces himself just in case God decides to smite him. “Thanks, but I don’t think I should, given the fact that I physically assaulted one of your teammates.”

“No hard feelings,” Mark shrugs and angles his body towards Donghyuck. He runs a hand through his sweaty mop of hair and Donghyuck gulps. “The guys on the team aren’t as bad as you think. At least, most of them. But only the cool ones are coming, anyway. Also, Hakun-ah isn’t mad anymore. I think.”

Donghyuck laughs and turns to face Mark, copying him. “Yeah, I apologized.”

“Oh?” Mark’s eyebrows raise. “He didn’t tell us that.”

“Of course he didn’t. I’m still a villain, after all,” Donghyuck jokes lightly.

“That’s not true,” Mark says seriously, shaking his head as sweat drips down the side of his neck. “You’re pretty great.”

Donghyuck just stares at him.

“I have to go, but I’ll text you the address in case you change your mind,” Mark says, completely oblivious to Donghyuck’s inner turmoil (which always seems to be caused by the boy in question.) “Bye, Donghyuck-ah.”

He strides down the bleachers two steps at a time, and Donghyuck watches his back as he goes.

Yes, Donghyuck ends up going to the arcade with the team.

Hakun doesn’t talk to him, but he doesn’t really seem mad, so Donghyuck takes it as a small victory.

Donghyuck challenges Mark to a duel of table hockey, and lets him win just to see him smile. Mark whoops loudly and does a dumb little dance in the middle of the arcade, and Donghyuck falls down the rabbit hole further, again.

―

Donghyuck has decided to start sitting under the bleachers during mass. If he were in a movie, he would be smoking a cigarette while doing so. He always arrives at the chapel so that his attendance is marked, then sneaks out the back when no one is looking. Hopefully. His record still looks fine.

He usually whips out his phone to play Kartrider, and today is no different. He’s been on track to beat a world record, which is very much so more important than praying.

“Donghyuck-ah?”

He looks up to the sight of a confused Jaemin ducking underneath the bleachers, almost knocking his brain out of his head. “What are you doing under here?”

“Hi, Jaemin-ah,” Donghyuck replies, looking back down at his phone so he can continue to win. “Wonderful weather we’re having.”

Jaemin makes his way over, sitting haphazardly next to Donghyuck and crossing his legs, dusting wet grass off of his uniform pants. “Why have you been leaving mass?”

Donghyuck pauses his game. “Aw, you noticed?”

“Of course, beloved.” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Well?”

Donghyuck wins the round and closes his phone. “It’s boring,” he replies plainly.

“And?”

“And,” Donghyuck says. “I don’t know. I guess it just doesn’t feel right.”

Jaemin leans forward. “Are you an atheist?”

“I dunno,” Donghyuck says, leaning back, nervous. “You’re asking a lot of questions right now.”

“Just curious,” Jaemin leans back, wide eyes searching Donghyuck’s face like he’s trying to stare inside of him. “I won’t judge you, if you are.”

“I don’t know what I believe,” Donghyuck shrugs, looking away. “I think maybe God is just on break right now. A very, very long one.”

“Tell me about it,” Jaemin huffs out a laugh, and it’s Donghyuck’s turn to lean forward, violating Jaemin’s space.

“Na Jaemin,” he starts, “I could kiss you.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” Jaemin responds, but he doesn’t move away, and Donghyuck can feel his breath on his cheek. He looks at his eyes, sparkling even under the dim light of the bleachers, and his lips, shiny from how he’s always wetting them. Donghyuck will recommend him some chapstick, instead.

“The communion wine is nasty,” Donghyuck moves away first, and wonders how he of all people lost a game of gay chicken. “And the songs they make us sing are so boring. Why can’t they give ‘Amazing Grace’ an R&B twist or something? These are modern times we’re living in.”

“Hm,” Jaemin hums like he’s thinking hard. “I guess. But I figured you would take any excuse to stare at Mark Lee for 45 minutes.”

Donghyuck’s heart drops to his ass and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, which seems to greatly amuse Jaemin. “Uh, what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Jaemin says, and by the shit-eating grin on his face, Donghyuck can tell that he is thoroughly enjoying the development of this conversation. “It’s pretty obvious you have a thing for him.”

A thing. Donghyuck keeps his cool on the outside, but inside he can feel his traitorous heart go thump, thump, thump. “I do not have a ‘thing’ for Mark Lee.”

“You can tell me,” Jaemin says, deadly serious all of a sudden, and Donghyuck flinches at the sudden change. “It doesn’t matter to me who you like or don’t like.”

Donghyuck considers this and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh,” Donghyuck says. “You know, Jaemin-ah, you’re not so bad.”

“You thought I was bad?”

“You literally hate me.”

“Not really,” Jaemin says, and he finally turns away from Donghyuck to stare ahead at the wall. ”I mean, maybe a little bit, but not fully.”

“That’s really reassuring to hear,” Donghyuck deadpans.

“When did it start?”

“Huh?”

“When did you start liking Mark?” Jaemin asks patiently, and Donghyuck looks down at his sneakers, wet with damp grass. “I dunno. It just kinda happened, I guess.”

“It must suck,” Jaemin continues, no holds barred. “Liking a guy with a girlfriend.”

“This conversation is really making me feel better about it, thank you, Jaemin-ah.”

“I’m just saying,” Jaemin raises his hands in defense. “I’m sympathizing with you. Wow.”

Donghyuck laughs loudly. “If that’s your way of sympathizing, I don’t want it.”

“Whatever.”

―

Daeun and Mark break up right before winter break.

Donghyuck only finds out because the news has spread all around school, to no one’s surprise.

Mark looks fine on the outside, really, he does. He continues to laugh at his friend’s jokes, continues to raise his hand in class, continues to give his everything and leave it all behind on the track. But Donghyuck can see that his eyes look sad.

He decides to visit his room two days after.

“Donghyuck-ah?” Mark answers the door with wide eyes and looks him up and down like he’s a ghost. “What’s up?”

“I know this probably isn’t a good time,” Donghyuck answers, and he means it in more ways than one. It’s 12am, and also, Mark probably isn’t in the mood to talk to him.

“It’s okay. Come in.”

He steps aside and lets Donghyuck in. His roommate is dead to the world on the other side of the room, and Donghyuck sits in the desk chair as Mark sits down on his bed. There’s a brief silence and Donghyuck sighs, cutting to the chase.

“I heard about you and Daeun-ssi.”

Mark simply nods, no change in his expression, and Donghyuck continues.

“I’m sorry.”

“It's okay,” Mark says immediately. “It just wasn't meant to be. I guess.”

“How long were you guys together?”

“Since we were 16.” Donghyuck cringes inwardly, expecting an answer like, 6 months, at the maximum. He curses himself for ever having negative thoughts about their relationship. But he’s human, after all.

“What happened?” Donghyuck blurts out, curiosity getting the best of him. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he remembers to add.

“She’s gonna be a lawyer,” Mark looks down, playing with his hands. “A really good one. She needs to focus.”

Donghyuck doesn’t egg him on and only nods; for once in his life he doesn’t know what to say. For some reason, all of his emotional intelligence has gone out of the window. Many versions of this exact scenario have played in Donghyuck’s head, but he was never this sad about it. But how could he not, looking at Mark’s sweet face?

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says again.

Mark still doesn’t look up at him and nods solemnly.

“Mark,” Donghyuck calls out, and he finally looks up at him, big eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room. “You’re young, you know?”

He nods fervently, and Donghyuck wants to get up and shake him to stop nodding should his head fall off.

“Your life is just beginning,” Donghyuck continues, praying he doesn’t make a fool of himself. “You’ll find someone, I know you will.”

Mark is silent for a minute. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I don’t really feel that sad, y’know? Just… I don’t know. Disappointed, maybe. I thought that she might have been the one? But she obviously wasn’t, I guess. We had our problems, but I thought we would be able to get through them.”

“Life is full of disappointment, isn’t it?” Donghyuck comments, leaning back in his chair.

“Maybe,” Mark replies. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep going.”

Donghyuck considers this and shrugs his shoulders. Leave it to Mark to be so hopefully optimistic, no matter what happens to him. “I suppose so.”

Mark smiles softly at him, and it’s small, but it’s there.

“You look like you’re holding up well,” Donghyuck observes. “Most guys consider killing themselves when their girlfriend leaves them.”

“You’re a dick,” Mark laughs. “But I mean, I guess. I try to take things as they come, I guess.”

“That’s very admirable,” Donghyuck says, and it comes out like a joke, but he means it. “Your outlook on life is very refreshing, Mark Lee.”

“Thanks,” he smiles, a big one this time, and his nose scrunches up cutely. Donghyuck’s heartbeat picks up, and he thinks, he’s smiling like that because of me.

“Of course.”

“You’re much nicer than people give you credit for,” Mark says.

Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise. “Even if I’m a dick?”

“Even if you’re a dick.”

“Why, thank you.” Donghyuck puts a hand to his heart. “You really do have a way with words. It’s panty dropping.”

This catches Mark off guard, and he cackles loudly before slapping a hand over his mouth, his roommate grumbling in his sleep from the other room.

“You’re so weird,” Mark huffs, and Donghyuck grins from ear to ear.

“Whatever. Wanna play Mario Kart?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

―

Donghyuck attends the last mass before winter break. Mark is leading the prayer again, and Donghyuck watches his cherub face as he closes his eyes and leads prayer like he always does. A chill runs through Donghyuck’s bones.

After Mark is done with the prayer, Donghyuck sneaks out the back and walks across campus to the bleachers. He ducks under and pulls his phone out of his blazer pocket, opening Kartrider up. He begins a heated race between his character and some evil pirate, and shivers as the wind picks up, wrapping his blazer tighter around his shoulders.

“Donghyuck-ah?”

Much like Jaemin found him last time, Donghyuck startles at Mark’s voice and looks up. He’s crouching under the bleachers, rubbing his head from where he presumably just bumped it. Cute.

“How did you find me? Why are you here?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Donghyuck says way too forcefully, and feels himself blush, for Christ’s sake. Mark raises his eyebrows. “I mean, no. You can stay, if you want.”

Mark makes his way over to where Donghyuck is seated and stumbles clumsily into criss-cross-applesauce position.

“Welcome to my cave,” Donghyuck says, pausing his tournament and closing his phone. “It’s not often I have guests.”

“I was concerned,” Mark says seriously, and what the hell, Donghyuck thinks, laugh at my jokes like you always do. “I saw you leave after prayer, and asked Jaemin where you went. He said you come here every time?”

That narc. “Guilty as charged,” Donghyuck shrugs. “I’m sorry if that annoys you.”

“No, no,” Mark reassures, shaking his head and letting his fringe fall in front of his eyes. He needs a haircut. “You’re allowed to believe whatever you want to believe. I don’t want you to get caught, though.”

Donghyuck nods. “I’m not exactly sure what I believe, I think. It doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to everyone here.” Donghyuck laughs, but there’s no humor in it.

“That’s okay,” Mark says, and Donghyuck knows he really means it. “You’re only a kid. You have time to figure it out.”

“You speak like you’re 80 years old sometimes.”

“I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years,” Mark replies cheekily, and Donghyuck smiles.

“You are.”

“Not really,” Mark shakes his head. “I know that I know nothing, remember?”

Donghyuck grins. “Right.”

―

The last day before winter break, the school holds a special holiday mass with a performance from the acapella choir. Tons of parents, friends of friends, and alumni show up, and Donghyuck is forced to wear a suit.

He looks pretty good, if he does say so himself, but it's stuffy and Donghyuck doesn’t really feel like singing On Eagle’s Wings right about now. He does it anyway.

Donghyuck ignores the fact that none of the faces watching him are his parents.

“And He will raise you up on eagles' wings

Bear you on the breath of dawn

Make you to shine like the sun

And hold you in the palm of His hand

The snare of the fowler will never capture you

And famine will bring you no fear

Under His wings your refuge, His faithfulness your shield.”

Donghyuck spots Mark in the crowd, and he shoots him a thumbs up like he did all those months ago on the first day of school. He smiles.

When mass is finally over, Mark catches him sitting on the stairs at the edge of the school courtyard.

“All you do is play Kartrider,” Mark comments, sitting next to Donghyuck on the last step.

“Life is about the little things, Mark.”

Mark chuckles quietly into the night, a puff of cold air passing his lips. “Why are you out here? It’s cold as hell. And it’s probably gonna start snowing soon.”

“Hell is hot, though.”

“I hope to never find out,” Mark comments lightly, and shoves his hands in his dress pants pockets. “You did great back there. I could hear your voice over everyone else’s. Are you okay? ” He pauses. “You’re very loud, but you also spend a lot of time alone.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck slaps him on the arm and turns his little character down a dark road. “I’m not loud.”

“You are,” Mark says matter-of-factly.

“Whatever,” Donghyuck dismisses lightly. “To answer your very presumptuous thoughts about me, it wasn’t always like this. It was way different, back in Jeju. I was friends with everyone, and everyone was friends with me. Hard to have that in a school of catholic dickbags.”

“Hey,” Mark chides, “it isn’t that bad here. You’re just full of hatred.”

“I’m full of love and positivity,” Donghyuck defends. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

“Okay, Jesus of Nazareth,” Mark jokes, and Donghyuck cackles and his character crashes into a tree.

“I am pretty immaculate.”

“Watch it.”

Silence settles over them, and the sound of fast-paced Kartrider music rings throughout the courtyard. The sun has already set, and the glow from the halogen lights above them illuminates the stairs in bright light.

“Do you miss it?”

Donghyuck looks up at Mark, who was already staring at him. “More than anything.”

“That sucks,” he says, and yes, Mark, it does suck.

“You wanna know what I did?”

“Huh?”

“You wanna know why I got expelled?”

Mark looks surprised, like the thought has never crossed his mind. “Only if you wanna tell me.”

“I did something really bad.”

“Really?”

“Really. What I’m about to tell you, I don’t want it to make you look at me differently,” Donghyuck says, deadly serious.

Mark’s eyes widen comically. “What is it?”

Donghyuck leans forward and whispers. “I punched a teacher in the face.”

Mark leans back and purses his lips, unamused. “You’re full of shit.”

Donghyuck laughs and pats him on the thigh comfortingly. “Just pullin’ your tail.” Then, quietly. “I… started a fire.”

“What?”

“I accidentally started a fire,” Donghyuck says solemnly, looking down at his catholic boy loafers. “Like, seriously.”

Mark, the bastard, fucking giggles. “What?”

“Why are you laughing?“ Donghyuck whines, slapping his thigh where he was just holding it comfortingly. “This is serious.”

“It's not funny!” Mark yelps, holding up his hands in defense. “I was just caught off guard!”

Donghyuck huffs and continues. “It was my friend’s birthday. I wanted to surprise him during lunch break with a birthday brownie I asked my mom to bake. I went to the bathroom to light the candle. I lit the candle. My hand slipped. The brownie fell. There was a lit candle in the brownie. You know what happens next.”

Mark’s mouth falls into an O shape and he whispers, “You set the bathroom on fire?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Donghyuck squeals petulantly, releasing his death grip on Mark’s thigh. “It was a fucking accident, and yet I was punished for having flaws.”

“Though, you did damage school property.”

“It was one little bit of the bathroom! It was easily replaced!”

“You probably weren’t supposed to bring food in the bathroom, either.”

“You know what,” Donghyuck pouts, “I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Mark yells through a belly laugh, grabbing onto Donghyuck’s wrist as he attempts to leave dramatically. “I’m sorry!” He pauses. “You have to admit, though. It was kinda funny.”

“It was not,” Donghyuck scoffs, sitting back down. “Anyway, what I did was so unacceptable that they kicked me out. My parents were so pissed, they sent me to the city, can you believe it? I don’t even know why I was accepted or given money to go here. Maybe my mom bribed the school or turned up the theatrics and cried on cue in front of the Headmistress. She’s a very talented actress.”

Mark nods along. “And to think, everyone thought you killed a man.”

“That would’ve been more interesting.”

“Why didn’t you just tell everyone to stop the rumors?” Mark asks. “Were you embarrassed?”

“No way,” Donghyuck says. “I just thought the speculation was funny. I liked seeing what everyone was coming up with. My favorite was ‘slept with a teacher.' None of my teachers were hot enough, though.”

Mark chokes on nothing. “Dude.”

“Sorry. But yeah, that’s what happened. You’re the only one who knows the truth.”

“Really?” Mark asks like he’s flattered.

“Yeah.” Donghyuck says. “Don’t let it get to your big head.”

“My head is normal sized.”

“Mhm.”

Silence settles over them again, and Donghyuck wraps his suit jacket tighter around himself.

“We should go back inside,” Mark suggests.

“Yeah.” Neither of them move.

“Thank you for telling me,” Mark speaks up. “I’m glad you didn’t kill anyone.”

Donghyuck smiles. “I am, too.”

He turns to Mark, and Mark turns to him. He looks really pretty, in his white button up for the occasion and his dark hair swept off of his forehead.

Donghyuck leans forward and kisses him softly on the cheek.

Mark’s eyes get comically wide, but he doesn’t move away, and Donghyuck stares at his lips as snow starts to fall.

“Mark,” he whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

Mark takes a sharp inhale of breath and his eyes flicker across Donghyuck’s face, like he’s desperately searching for something.

“Okay,” he says.

Donghyuck grabs Mark’s cheek, snow in his eyelashes, and brings his lips to his.

Mark doesn’t do anything at first, and Donghyuck almost pulls away. Mark presses closer and grabs his knee, their lips moving softly together. Donghyuck’s heart does somersaults in his ribcage.

Mark pulls back first.

“I have to go. Fuck.” He flinches away like he’s been burned and stands up abruptly, running back up the stairs to the dorm.

Donghyuck doesn't try to stop him.

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love,

I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

And if I have prophetic powers,

and understand all mysteries and all knowledge,

and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love,

I am nothing.

If I give away all I have,

and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love,

I gain nothing.” 1 Corinthians 13:1-13

―

Mark leaves campus for winter break.

Where to, Donghyuck doesn’t know, because they aren’t talking. Again. Except this time, it's for completely serious, life-altering reasons.

Donghyuck has always been a little selfish. That’s why he kissed Mark, for his own selfish reasons, and he can admit that to himself.

Donghyuck and his big mouth tell Jaemin what happened.

“Wow,” Jaemin comments, mouth agape. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What does that even mean?” Donghyuck asks, slamming down his iced coffee. “I have tons of guts.”

“Maybe too much,” Jaemin replies, sipping his americano daintily. “You’ve been moping over him so long like a lovesick puppy, I thought you would never make a move.”

“Why would making a move be a good idea?” Donghyuck asks. “I mean, look what happened.”

“Oh, Donghyuck-ah. At least you got to kiss him.”

“That really makes me feel better,” Donghyuck replies vacantly.

“Look,” Jaemin says, putting his hands down on the café table. “You can’t change what happened. The only thing you can do is accept it and wait it out. It’s Mark. He’ll come around.”

“Come around,” Donghyuck repeats emptily. “I kissed a catholic dude.”

Jaemin fixes him with a look. “You know he isn’t like that.”

“I guess.”

Mark is patient. Mark is kind. Mark opens the door for you and ties your shoelaces when your arm is broken. Mark saves a seat for you when you tell him you’re gonna arrive late. Mark lets you borrow his notes before the big exam. Mark is kind. And Mark is patient.

“Don’t worry about it so much,” Jaemin says seriously. “I know it’s probably hard, but seriously. You’re not dealing with some dickhead here. Whatever happens is meant to happen.”

Donghyuck takes this in and nods. “You know, you’re pretty wise.”

“Alright, bring it in.” Jaemin opens his arms for a hug and Donghyuck freezes in place. Jaemin looks at him like he’s stupid. “I’m granting you one hug. Come on.”

Donghyuck hops up like the clingy person he is and wraps his arms around Jaemin, resting his head on his shoulder. He’s warm and he smells like coffee.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jaemin says when Donghyuck doesn’t let go and they’ve started to get stares from fellow café-goers. “Let me go.”

Donghyuck, reluctantly, lets go and goes back to his seat.

“Thanks.”

Jaemin gives him a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Donghyuck’s mother calls him later that night.

“You know I love you, right?” she says as soon as he picks up.

“Um,” Donghyuck answers dumbly, “yeah?”

“Because I do. You know, I only want what’s best for you.”

Donghyuck nods confusedly. “Yes.”

“We miss you here, Hyuck-ah. And if we don’t show it enough, we’re proud of you. Just know that.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll try and call you more often.” Donghyuck hears the commotion of dishes in the background. “Don’t go setting fires, alright?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Yes, mom.”

“Okay. Talk to you soon.” She hangs up.

Donghyuck decided not to go back to Jeju for the winter, but he does miss his family, as insufferable as they may be 99% of the time.

He crashes at Jaemin’s for the remainder of break, much to the enthusiasm of Jaemin’s mother, who says they rarely get visitors. She takes him in as her own and even stocks up the kitchen with pre-made kimchi, just for him. Jaemin grumbles something about how she loves Donghyuck more than him.

Donghyuck spends most of his time lounging around on their couch, which is really comfy, playing Kartrider, and doing house chores, even though Jaemin’s mother insists their housekeeper will get to it later. He also spends most of his time thinking about Mark. It's weird not seeing him everyday, and Donghyuck wonders what he’s up to. He almost texts him before he remembers that they’re not on speaking terms anymore.

He buries himself in the busywork the teachers have assigned them over winter break at Jaemin’s dining room table, and focuses on getting a Kartrider world record. Only one of them is going well, and it isn’t the homework.

“You’ve been in my house for way too long,” Jaemin comments from the kitchen island one morning over a cup of coffee. “I’m sick of seeing your sad face.”

“I’m sick of seeing your sad face too,” Donghyuck replies, not in the mood for their usual bickering. “My life is falling apart, and all you can do is insult me.”

“Your life is fine.” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Just text him.”

“Just text him,” Donghyuck mocks, putting down his pen. “It’s not that easy.”

“It actually is,” Jaemin replies, walking out of the kitchen and making his way to his room. “Ah, seriously. Kids these days.”

“You’re not 90!” Donghyuck calls after him.

Just text him.

Donghyuck does not text Mark.

Call him dumb, call him stubborn, but he has way too much pride to text Mark first at this point. If he wants to play the silent game, Donghyuck is gonna play along. And he’s gonna win.

Donghyuck doesn’t see or hear from Mark until school is back in session.

The late winter is cold but manageable, and it matches the feeling in Donghyuck’s bones.

Mark looks normal, still smiling, still laughing, still as chipper as ever.

Donghyuck corners him after mass a week later.

He knows that Mark helps clean up communion when he can, and today is no different. Donghyuck sits in the pews in the back, watching as Mark and some other students stack up the communion-plates.

Everyone is bustling around with busy work, paying Donghyuck no mind, and he waits patiently. He feels like a stalker. Or a detective. Or maybe, he’s just Donghyuck.

Mark eventually spots him in the back while he’s making a paper plane with some crumpled paper he found in his pocket. He freezes in place and looks as if Donghyuck is a ghost and not a boy, and Donghyuck would laugh if this were another situation.

The rest of the students eventually start to clear out, and Donghyuck hears Mark mutter something about staying behind.

And then there were two. Donghyuck tenses up in his seat as Mark makes his way over to him like a man on his way to the guillotine. He sits down far away from Donghyuck on the same pew, and Donghyuck feels his heart constrict in his chest.

“I understand why you’re avoiding me,” Donghyuck cuts to the chase. “I’m sorry... for kissing you. I know that that goes against everything you believe in. I’m sorry. Really. And if you wanna avoid me for the rest of the year, delete my number, everything. I get it. I just wanted to talk to you first.” He sighs heavily, his piece finally off of his chest.

A long, uncomfortable silence settles over them, and Donghyuck looks up at the wooden crossed bars on the ceiling. At the top of the wall, Jesus lays still on the cross, face turned down solemnly, accepting his fate to absolve the world of sin. A golden crown of thorns adorns his head, and his hands lay limp and bloody, nailed to the cross.

“I said it was okay.” Mark finally speaks up.

Donghyuck snaps out of his reverie. “Huh?”

“I said it was okay,” Mark says mildly, “I said it was okay… to kiss me.”

Donghyuck swallows thickly. “Yeah.”

“I wanted you to. That’s what scared me.” Mark looks down at his hands, which are folded tightly in his lap. He sighs heavily. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“Me neither.”

“I just… I don't know what to do. At all.”

Donghyuck nods gravely, looking down at his beat up sneakers. “Sorry.”

Mark shakes his head. “Don’t be.”

Donghyuck pauses. “Mark?” he asks. “Why did you want to kiss me?”

Mark stays silent and seems to contemplate the question, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “You confuse me.”

“What?”

“When Daeun-ah broke up with me and you came to talk to me in my room… I felt confused. I thought maybe it was because we just broke up and that I was vulnerable. But then as time went on, and I kept seeing you in class and watching you play dumb Kartrider, I just… wanted to be close to you. I don’t know what that means. I guess I like you.”

In all of Donghyuck’s wildest dreams, he never imagined this. “Are you sure?” Donghyuck panics. “You’re probably just confused. I mean, you just broke up with Daeun-ssi, you’re sensitive, you know-”

“I felt it when we were still dating, too.”

Donghyuck freezes. “Huh?”

“When me and Daeun-ah were still dating,” Mark says slowly, “I kept looking at you even though I should’ve been looking at her.”

“Oh.”

“I thought it was just because you were new, and we became friends, and we talked a lot. But, there’s just something about you… I guess. I’ve never felt this before. I really loved Daeun-ah. I still love her. But…”

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck stands up, mortified. “Did I ruin your relationship?”

“No!” Mark yelps, cringing when his voice echoes throughout the empty chapel. “No. Me and Daeun are fine, it was a mutual agreement. And it was about college, not my newfound… crush. I didn’t even realize until, like, 2 seconds ago.”

Donghyuck sits back down next to Mark, closer.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Silence.

“Mark,” Donghyuck starts, “what the fuck do we do now?”

“Hey, we’re in a chapel,” Mark smiles, and Donghyuck can tell that he’s nervous.

“I’m serious,” Donghyuck whines.

“I don’t know.” Mark looks at him and rolls his lips between his teeth. “I guess we just… go on like normal?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck deflates, and he doesn’t know what he was expecting.

“I’m not saying act like it didn’t happen!” Mark defends, raising his hands. “Just need some time… to figure whatever this is out.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says. “Okay.”

Fuck.

―

Weeks pass, and Donghyuck and Mark go back to normal. Or, as normal as you can when you kiss your presumably straight friend and make him realize some things about himself. Winter melts into a cool spring, and azalea and cherry blossoms bloom on campus, framing everything in soft and delicate pinks.

The planning of the school tradition that is the Spring Fling starts; the one in a million opportunity locked up horny teenage boys get to ask a girl to a dance. There’s an excited energy in the air as everyone discusses who they’re asking. Donghyuck does his best to focus on his work, as the school year will soon come to an end. But how can he, when Mark… is Mark.

“What is it?” Jaemin asks from across Donghyuck, fed up with his dramatic sighing for the past half hour.

“Mark,” Donghyuck says painfully, slamming his head down on the library table. The strict old librarian shushes him from the other side of the room, but he pays her no mind.

“How many Mark-induced breakdowns have you had since you got here? It’s getting out of hand. Seriously, you look pathetic. It’s depressing me.”

Donghyuck groans into the cold table. “My life is a tragedy.”

“I’m leaving,” Jaemin announces, packing his books into his backpack. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Some friend you are,” Donghyuck mumbles.

“Call me when you’re done having your pity party.” Jaemin pats him on the back of his head and walks out of the library.

Donghyuck heaves a sigh into the table and closes his eyes.

When he comes to, someone is shaking his shoulder.

“Donghyuck-ah, wake up. It’s lunch time.”

Donghyuck looks up groggily and is met with Mark’s big, sparkly eyes looking down at him.

“Am I dreaming?”

Mark laughs at him and pats his arm. “No, I’m real. Wake up.”

“How did you find me?” Donghyuck asks, un-suctioning his cheek from the table and blinking up at him tiredly.

“I ran into Jaemin-ssi a couple of minutes ago, and he said he left you sulking in the library.”

“Fuckin’ Jaemin,” Donghyuck grumbles, closing the textbook in front of him. He puts away all of his books and stands up. “Oh, by the way. I wanna talk to you.”

Donghyuck was not planning on talking to Mark about anything.

Donghyuck leads him to his secret bleacher hideout and plops down on the wet grass, Mark following close behind.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Mark asks, sitting down next to him.

“Go to the Spring Fling with me.”

Donghyuck’s brain short circuits at what his mouth has just blurted out, but it’s too late to go back.

“Uh,” Mark says.

“Uh,” Donghyuck replies back.

“That dance is for guys to ask girls,” Mark says dumbly.

“No shit.”

“Uh,” Mark says. “I don't know.”

Donghyuck pales and narrows his eyes. “You don’t know.”

“Yeah, I mean.” Mark scratches his neck like he’s uncomfortable. Like Donghyuck has made him uncomfortable. “It’s no secret we can't go together as two… guys.”

“Says who?”

“Says-” Mark pauses. “You know what.”

“No, Mark. I don’t know what.”

Mark heaves a heavy, long-suffering sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“I think you can do whatever you want,” Donghyuck crosses his arms. “But you’re too scared. Where’s your courage?”

“I mean, can you blame me?” Mark laughs, but it doesn’t sound like he finds anything funny. “I don’t care who other people love. It’s none of my business and love is supposed to be in everything. But other people-”

Donghyuck scoffs. “So, you care what other people think?”

“Yeah,” Mark cuts in. “I do, actually. Sometimes, you have to. But of course, you don’t understand that.”

Donghyuck recoils and grimaces inwardly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mark sighs, and he looks older than he is for a second. Donghyuck did that to him. “Nothing,” he says.

“No, Mark.” Donghyuck moves away. “I want you to tell me.”

“Just-” Mark cuts himself off and doesn’t meet Donghyuck’s stony gaze. “Just. You understand that this is a lot.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Donghyuck says, quiet all of a sudden. “Some things can be simple. We deserve simple.”

“That’s very idealistic of you,” Mark comments distantly. “That’s usually my job.”

“Just forget I said anything,” Donghyuck says as he starts to get up and leave. He dusts grass off of his pants and grimaces at the melted frost stain on his knee. “Jesus.”

“Donghyuck-ah, just wait.”

“Don’t fucking Donghyuck-ah me.”

Mark doesn’t try to stop him.

―

(What he was never prepared for, however, is how to handle Lee Donghyuck.

“Hello,” Mark said, and bowed deeply in front of Donghyuck. “I’m Minhyung, my friends call me Mark. Today, I’ll be guiding you since it’s your first day.”

Mark notices that he’s nice to look at right off the bat: round doe eyes, button nose, plush mouth, a constellation of moles on his cheek. Round cheeks. Fluffy dark hair, and a killer smile.

Mark didn’t know what that entailed, and turned around without thinking about it too much. Donghyuck followed close behind him.

“Our hallways are just like any other hallways,” Mark laughed to himself, and no, no they are not. He didn’t know why he said that. Why did he feel nervous? The high ceilings of the school mimicked that of a cathedral. The walls were crisp and pristine, wood floors shining and spotless, and Mark felt completely out of his depth.

He led Donghyuck to the dining hall, which should actually be called a small restaurant. He showed Donghyuck the rest of the campus, the chapel where they had mass, the athletics facility, and the main auditorium.

“There’s a lot more to see, but class starts soon, so we’ll save it for later,” Mark said, looking at the watch on his pale wrist. “Speaking of class, can I see your schedule?”

Donghyuck pulled it out of his pants pocket, very clearly crumpled. Mark noticed, but he didn’t say anything. He crowded next to Donghyuck to look over his shoulder, and Donghyuck smelled like perfume. “Oh, sick, we have the same first period with Mr. Shin. Here, I’ll lead you.”

Mark could see Donghyuck trying to keep the shock off of his face as they entered calculus.

Immediately, there were dozens of eyes on them, and Mark hoped Donghyuck wasn’t feeling scared.

Whispers arose in the room, and Donghyuck adjusted his tie, taking a seat at the front next to Mark. Slinging his backpack off of his shoulder, he surveyed the room. The large whiteboard in the front, the same pretentiously tall ceilings. Behind them, Mark could hear barely concealed whispers. Something about “Jeju” and “parents” and “scholarship.” Mark had heard all about Donghyuck, but he was not one to believe rumors so easily. Mark eyed him curiously. When he was younger, his mother once told him, “What matters is the heart. When you look at someone, don’t look at their face. Look at their heart.”

“Settle down,” Mr. Shin strode in, looking just like a prison guard as he always did. His hair was cropped short as usual, and Mark could imagine him telling the class to drop and give him 20 instead of yapping about calculus. “As most of you probably know, we have a new student joining us this year. Come introduce yourself.”

Mark watched Donghyuck stand up and make his way to the front of class.

“I’m Donghyuck,” he started, lifting a hand to the eyes of the boys in front of him, some curious, some judgmental, some bored. His eyes found Mark’s in the front row, and he nodded at Donghyuck in encouragement.

“But I’m sure you guys already knew that.” Some snickers came from the back of the room. Donghyuck looked at Mr. Shin with pleading eyes and he waved him on. “Go on, tell the class about yourself.” He ruffled with some pages on his desk and began writing some numerical nonsense on the whiteboard.

“I like long walks on the beach,” Donghyuck started again, and Mark giggled despite himself. “I like music. I’m a gemini. I may or may not have killed someone-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Mr. Shin interrupted gruffly, putting his marker down. “Go back to your seat.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck bowed, and made his way back to his seat.

“Open your textbooks to page 279. Settle down.”

Mark watched Donghyuck lug the giant book out of his backpack and accidentally slam it too hard on his desk. Mark held back a snicker.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck said. Mr. Shin shot him a deadly stare.

“Nice introduction, man,” Mark whispered when he turned back to the board and nudged Donghyuck on the shoulder.

“Thanks, I worked really hard on it,” Donghyuck stage-whispered back. Mark gave him a smile.

Yeah, this guy is gonna be interesting.)

―

Two weeks later, it’s the night of the Spring Fling, and Lee Donghyuck doesn’t have a date.

Not having a date at a dance where you’re expected to have a date is fine. Donghyuck is young. Donghyuck is a bachelor.

Donghyuck is alone.

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have blown up on Mark. He gets it, doesn’t get it, but he gets it. He and Mark don’t have the same background; the bible is more of a book of suggestions to Donghyuck whereas it’s a way of life to Mark. He won’t truly get it ever, probably. But he respects it. And he admires it, if he’s being really honest with himself. Mark is steadfast. Mark is devoted.

Donghyuck is in love.

Now is finally the time to get over it.

Donghyuck puts on the lame hand-me-down suit his mother sent him off to Seoul with, crisp and black and slightly too big for him.

What he really wants to be doing is sulking and beating his fastest Kartrider record, but whenever he considers ditching and burning his suit in a fire, he hears the voice of his mother and Na Jaemin in the same breath, nagging him for being addicted to that stupid game. Or maybe they’re the same person.

“Keep your head up,” the boy in question says, looking regal and untouchable in his navy suit probably worth more than Donghyuck’s left kidney. “Forget about Mark tonight, sulk over him tomorrow.”

“You’re right,” Donghyuck says, and it doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. “I don’t need him.”

“You do,” Jaemin says, patting him on the arm solemnly. “But that’s not the point. Let’s party!”

Donghyuck, all things considered, does have a decent time. He dances with Jaemin and some pretty boy with a nice smile Jaemin introduces to him as Jeno, and he even momentarily forgets about his impending doom.

A tap on the shoulder.

“Can we talk?” Mark asks him, and Donghyuck turns around. He looks heartbreakingly handsome. He also looks nervous, and Donghyuck feels his heart beat faster.

Jaemin shoots him a look that says, “Well?” and Donghyuck nods minutely. Jeno, completely oblivious to the implications, is just happy to be there.

Mark leads him right outside of the event hall, shutting the door behind them. Muffled music from inside is all that can be heard, and they stand above the stairs to the west quad of the courtyard as the spring breeze kisses them softly.

“I’m sorry,” Mark breaks the silence first, looking at Donghyuck earnestly.

Caught off guard, Donghyuck immediately deflates. “Me too.”

“Dance with me.”

“Huh?”

“When they start playing the slow song,” Mark explains. “Dance with me.”

Donghyuck’s brain melts out of his ears.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Mark squirms, façade of confidence dropping immediately. “I’m already really nervous.”

“But.” Donghyuck says dumbly. “There’s…people in there. They’ll see us. Two boys. Slow dancing together.”

“No shit,” Mark mocks his voice, and Donghyuck gets ready to high kick him in his stupid, cute face. “I know. That’s why we should do it.”

“But.” Donghyuck says again. “What about what they’ll say?”

“It doesn’t matter what they say,” Mark shrugs. “Or well, it does. We can just say it was a dare. Listen, I didn’t think this far ahead. I came here to sweep you off of your feet, or something.”

“So romantic,” Donghyuck says drily.

“You don’t have to,” Mark blurts, raising his hands up in surrender. “Like, really.”

“I want to,” Donghyuck says, and he’s never meant something so much in his life.

Mark smiles at him softly. “Courage, right?”

“Yes,” Donghyuck breathes. “Courage.”

Notes:

can you tell i went to Episcopalian school for one year
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