Chapter Text
Donghyuck should’ve known better. His friends always tell him not to blame himself but he really should’ve known better. He should’ve gotten more involved with the planning and the booking and the itineraries, should’ve known more than to blindly trust Renjun’s sentimental ass and Jaemin’s economical tendencies. Maybe then, he could’ve convinced everyone to spend a few extra wons for a more flexible flight schedule and his soul wouldn’t be trembling all the way to the airport, terrified at the thought of seeing Mark again.
“Will you stop fidgeting?” Renjun slaps his thigh. They really should’ve just taken the train. Renjun would’ve been too afraid of causing a scene there. Instead, he’s stuck on this stupid van with a private driver where Renjun can do whatever the fuck he wants.
Donghyuck shoots him a pathetic look. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t be stupid. If anyone shouldn’t be coming, it’s Mark hyung,” Jaemin quips from the passenger’s seat, yelping as Renjun kicks his back rest from behind.
Donghyuck folds his arms on his chest and sighs. “You should’ve told him that.”
“Jeno did,” Jaemin says, matter-of-fact. “And all Mark hyung said was it would be a shame to not go considering that it might be the last time.”
“Well, that’s just stupid.” Donghyuck scoffs. “If it’s such a shame, he won’t let it be the last time.”
Jaemin sits up. “That’s what I said!”
“Stop it. We’re all friends here, and we’re all coming. It’s too late to change your mind anyways.” Renjun clicks his tongue, typing away on his phone. “Jeno’s already at the airport with Jisung and Chenle.”
“And Mark hyung?” Jaemin asks.
“I don’t know,” Renjun answers. “He hasn’t replied in the group chat.”
Donghyuck can’t tell if it’s just a force of habit or if they’re simply fucking with him but the two idiots turn to him at the same time, eyes inquisitive.
“What?!” Donghyuck frowns.
“You usually know where he is,” Jaemin says. Donghyuck wants to punch him in the face.
“Yeah, because Mark still tells me about whatever the fuck he’s up to these days.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Come on, Jaem. Be serious for once.”
Jaemin snorts. “Sorry.”
Donghyuck is, of course, a big sleazy liar. Mark still does tell him most of what he’s up to. Two weeks ago, Mark was asking him about the exact ratio of milk and sugar that Donghyuck usually puts in his morning coffee, saying he couldn’t get it quite right and that he misses the way Donghyuck makes it.
Donghyuck is no different either. Just last Friday, the light bulb in his kitchen died. He called Mark, trying not to cry as Mark calmly explained where he kept the extra light bulbs and how Donghyuck can replace it safely. Because contrary to what everyone expects, they’re actually quite good at being civil.
But!!! And it’s a big but.
But sharing their troubles over the phone and seeing Mark in person and having to spend a few days with him in another country with the friends who watched them fall together and apart are two completely different things.
For starters, Mark didn’t even tell him he was still coming to this trip. Donghyuck just assumed that because they broke up, Mark broke up with the rest of the group too. But then again, of course, he’s coming. Because he’s Mark Lee and he’s too sentimental for his own good, and his frugal ass is never letting a non-refundable flight and hotel room go to waste.
After seven years together, Donghyuck really should have known that. If he thought about it a little more, he might’ve prepared his heart a little better.
But everything’s still fragile in his chest and perhaps, it’s messing up with his mind too. It’s only been a month since they last saw each other after all, when Donghyuck told Mark that maybe he should stop coming to their apartment now that they’re no longer together. It was after an entire week of Mark stopping by for dinner because Donghyuck cooked one portion too many, and every time he had to leave, Donghyuck felt the hole in his heart getting bigger.
The last time Mark left, Donghyuck didn’t even watch him go. He kept his eyes fixed on the sink, watching the faucet run, hands unmoving over their dirty dishes. He didn’t cry until he heard the front door close, and even then, he only allowed himself a few tears.
Honestly, considering everything, a month isn’t really all that long. But a lot can change within that time. A lot definitely has with Donghyuck. He has a fucking perm now, for god’s sake.
Of course, like a cosmic joke, Donghyuck’s phone vibrates on his lap. Renjun’s eyes dart on the screen faster than Donghyuck can think.
melk ❤︎
hyuck?
im already on the train :D
be at the airport in 15
are u guys all there?
“Right on cue.” Renjun smirks. “Still think we should’ve taken the train?”
“Shut up,” Donghyuck grumbles.
The rest of the group is standing near the baggage drop counters when they arrive. Jeno is leaning against his suitcase while Chenle and Jisung seem to be engaged in their usual banter.
“Park Jisung!” Renjun calls as they approach, horrified. “You know we’re going to Taiwan, right? It’s summer there. Didn’t you listen to my presentation?” Renjun had them all on a zoom call a few nights ago with a powerpoint and everything. Donghyuck was also on a separate call, playing LOL with Jisung at that time.
“I did!” Jisung lies, pouting defensively.
“Then why the hell are you wearing a turtle neck?!”
Chenle answers for him by pulling down on Jisung’s collar, revealing a blooming purplish mark on his neck just below his jaw.
“Park Jisung,” Jaemin grins, a complete 180 from how Renjun said his name a few minutes ago. “Look at you.”
Renjun seems less fazed by the hickey than he was at the prospect of Jisung having a heat stroke in Taipei. No one can really blame him. It wouldn’t have been the first time Jisung packed for the wrong climate. “But you packed for summer, right?"
Jisung nods, his cheeks an alarming shade of red.
“Hot, humid summer,” Renjun points out.
“He did. I made sure of it,” Chenle says. Then he turns to Donghyuck with a frown. “Where’s Mark hyung?”
Donghyuck, who has been enjoying the amusing scene unfolding in front of him, was totally at peace until then. He throws his hands in the air and whines, “Why does everybody always assume I know where Mark is? We already broke up, people.”
Chenle only holds his gaze more pointedly, eyebrow raising, as if he can see right through Donghyuck’s bullshit.
Donghyuck tries to hold his ground but Chenle’s too strong, so Donghyuck surrenders the information like it was tortured out of him. “He’ll be here in a while,” he grumbled. “He just got off the train.”
“Great. I think we can fall in line now,” Renjun says.
If anyone notices that Donghyuck is walking a little slower than everybody else, or that he gradually falls to the back of the queue, quietly hovering by the sign that says ‘Line Starts Here,’ pretending to be busy with his phone, no one points it out. They don’t comment on how he wasn’t paying attention to what anyone is saying, or how he’s been anxiously looking around, or on the subtle way his face lights up when he finally sees that stupid gray beanie and the stupidly cute bangs poking out from under it, how his lips curve up on one end when he spots that jog that can’t be anyone else’s but Mark’s.
“Nice of you to show up,” Donghyuck says, taking one quick look at Mark’s face before deciding that nope, he can’t take a full blown hit of that today. He sees Jaemin smirking from the corner of his eye and he makes a mental note to suckerpunch him later.
“You said you guys were by the announcement board,” Mark huffs as he pushes his luggage beside Donghyuck’s and hauls them together. Donghyuck, not really registering that as anything out of the ordinary, lets his luggage slip from his grasp.
“Renjun wanted to queue already.” Donghyuck holds his breath when he feels Mark’s gaze on him. He forces himself to meet his eyes for a split second and—nope, definitely not. “What?”
“You look great,” Mark says. Genuine and kind and so goddamn annoying. “Your hair is…” his fingers hover a few inches from Donghyuck’s forehead, like he’s suddenly the sun and Mark is too afraid to touch. “It’s nice.”
“That’s my beanie,” Donghyuck replies almost too quickly, his cheeks flaring up, like he’s not used to Mark calling him all kinds of beautiful with his lips traversing every mole in his body.
Mark puffs out a laugh beside him. He pulls the beanie from the top of his head, his hair sticking out at the sides in funny (adorable) ways. It’s longer than Donghyuck remembers.
“No, keep it,” Donghyuck says, staring at the beanie in Mark’s hand. “You need it more.”
Mark makes a face, but before he can reply, Jaemin claps a teasing hand on his shoulder. “This is nice. It’s like you two never even broke up.” He grins, earning himself a well-deserved elbow to the ribs, courtesy of Donghyuck.
Jeno steps in with a sigh. “Alright, that’s enough kids. Renjun needs your passports.”
Donghyuck takes advantage of the distraction and runs up to Renjun. He begs him to sit him anywhere that’s not beside Mark. “I will die, Renjun-ah. Please,” he claims.
“Then fall dead. It’s not up to me.” Renjun only shrugs, completely unbothered. Planning a whole itinerary for seven idiots can really kill the light in one’s eyes. Donghyuck knows that too well.
The ground attendant must have taken pity on him though because when they finally got their boarding passes, it turns out he’s sitting by the window next to Jisung. And sure, Jisung almost always spills something on his seat and maybe sometimes he drools in his sleep too, but Donghyuck would rather sit with that than think twice about every little reaction he does for nearly three hours.
Delighted with relief, he clings to Jisung all the way to immigration, cooing at the way he folds in on himself whenever Donghyuck brings up his turtle neck. Jisung seems determined to convince everyone that it is indeed a mosquito bite but everyone—especially Jaemin—just wiggles their eyebrows at him every time it’s brought up. Even Mark snuck in a high five.
Donghyuck really thought he was safe when they were walking to their gate. He also really should’ve listened to Renjun when he said not to use a duffel bag as a carry on. Now, the stupid thing is lounging on his shoulders, getting heavier by the minute.
“Are we almost there?” he whines to no one in particular.
“Not even close. Our gate is at the end of the terminal,” Jeno notes kindly. He has a duffel bag too, even bigger than the one Donghyuck has. But unlike Donghyuck, he has the muscular endurance of a wolf.
“Who the hell assigned us there?” Donghyuck bemoans, like one of them is at fault.
He feels a small tug on his shoulder then a mumble beside his ear, “Here, let me.” The strap of his duffel bag slips down his arm and he hears it land on some durable plastic. Mark offers him a small smile, adjusting the bag on top of his carry-on suitcase. Donghyuck can still see the sticker he slapped on it a year ago, of a cartoon duck flashing a middle finger.
“Thanks,” he mutters, massaging the sore spot on his left shoulder.
“You should’ve used a backpack,” Mark says. “I bought you one from Japan last year, right?”
“Yeah, I forgot about that. I’ve never really had to pack a separate carry-on,” Donghyuck replies. He swears he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, but Mark recoils into his skin anyway.
Mark lets out a long breath and shrugs. “You should’ve called me,” he says. “My suitcase is half empty. Your stuff would’ve fit right in.”
Donghyuck snorts because Mark can’t be serious. Except of course, he is. “Of course, they would’ve, hyung.” He sighs.
Mark presses his lips in a tight line. “You’re calling me hyung again.”
Donghyuck scrunches his nose, feigning innocence. “You say that like it’s bad.”
“No, it’s just—” Mark’s hand flies to his nape, pulling down on his beanie like he wants it to swallow his head whole. “I’m not used to it, I guess?”
Donghyuck sets up a trap with a giggle. “Well, how else should I call you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Mark?’ Or one of those silly nicknames you always make for me?” Mark tries to hide his frustration with a laugh, but seven years together is long enough to memorize Mark’s tells. “Hyung just sounds too formal. And we’re not… you’re just not—”
“I am,” Donghyuck cuts in, “actually a dongsaeng who respects you a lot.” He nods to their friends who have gained a good distance from them. “I’m just one of those kids now, so hyung is perfectly appropriate.”
“See, I don’t think that’s fair,” Mark argues.
“And why not?” Donghyuck challenges.
Mark makes a guttural sound in his throat. “Hyuck, we’ve made out in three different restrooms in this terminal alone. I think I deserve a bit of affection there somewhere, no?”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, completely ignoring the fact that his head feels like it’s just been dipped in lava. “Fine, Mark,” he says, the name rolling off his tongue unnaturally. “Are you happy now, Mark?”
“You don’t have to say it that hard, but yes.” Mark sighs. “That’s much better. Thank you.”
Donghyuck beams. “You’re welcome, hyung.”
Mark groans.
Donghyuck decides to secure his seatmate. He has a firm grip on Jisung’s wrist from the jetbridge all the way to their seat. Jisung, after being pestered by Chenle and Jaemin for the past half hour, is more than willing to cooperate.
“You good?” Donghyuck asks as soon as he takes his spot by the window.
Jisung nods, letting out a big sigh. “I owe you my life.”
Donghyuck pats his cheek gently. “It’s cute that you think you’re safe here,” he says.
Jisung scrunches his nose. He makes himself busy as the rest of the plane fills up. Their last rowmate is a sweet woman in her mid-50s. She flashed them a warm smile and told them not to be shy if they ever needed to go out on the aisle during the flight. Donghyuck makes a silent vow to protect her at all cost.
Renjun and Jaemin are seated on the row behind them while Mark, Jeno, and Chenle are in front. Mark is right in front of Donghyuck, enjoying his own window seat. They used to debate about who gets to take it (Donghyuck has won 4 out of 6 times). Now, it’s to each their own. No debate needed. At least one good thing came out of the breakup, Donghyuck thinks bitterly.
A light drizzle has started outside. Donghyuck busies himself with watching the raindrops slide off his window as the plane starts taxiing. He drowns out the recording that plays as the flight attendants demonstrate safety protocols, only getting out of his head when Jisung nudges him with his elbow.
“What?”
Jisung tilts his chin up to something in front, where Jeno is peeking through the gap between the seats. Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at him.
“Something’s wrong with this hyung,” Jeno tells Donghyuck.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” Mark grumbles but his seat shakes as he keeps shifting.
Donghyuck clicks his tongue and rummages through his jacket pocket to fish out a couple of mint candies. Mark hates it when his ears pop when the pressure changes inside the cabin during take off. So it’s become Donghyuck’s habit to include a small pack of candy on his pre-travel grocery list. And every habit Donghyuck has is a habit that Mark never learned.
Donghyuck sticks his hand on the space between Mark’s seat and the window. “They didn’t have the lemon ones you like,” he says.
Mark turns around to look at him, incredulous. “Hyuck, you didn’t have to—” Donghyuck makes a face and shoves the candies against Mark’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now sit properly. The flight attendant’s glaring at you,” Donghyuck says as he buries himself back into his seat.
The matter should’ve been over, he thinks. But Jisung is grinning beside him like a madman.
“What is it this time, Jisungie?” Donghyuck sighs, already closing his eyes.
“Nothing. You and Mark hyung are still nice to each other,” Jisung replies. “It’s sweet.”
Donghyuck laughs through his nose. “Were you expecting us to kill each other?”
Jisung waves his large hands near Donghyuck’s face. “No, no, I just didn’t expect it to be like nothing changed.”
Donghyuck presses his lips in a tight line. He would argue that Jisung sitting beside him instead of Mark is a pretty big dynamic change, but he didn’t really want Mark to hear any of his thoughts about their split. He doesn’t think he has sat with his own thoughts enough to form anything concrete. Honestly, his heart has been steering the ship lately.
Jisung remains quiet for the actual take off, his knuckles turning white with how hard he’s gripping the armrests. Donghyuck finds it adorable, but that affection is immediately replaced by annoyance as soon as the seatbelt sign was turned off. Once they reach cruising altitude, Jisung becomes an interrogation machine.
“Did you and Mark hyung still talk to each other after you broke up? I mean before today.”
That one’s easy. “Sometimes,” Donghyuck answers, carefully eyeing the seat in front for any signs that Mark is listening. He prays he’s not.
“Did you still see each other?”
Yes, until that one night a month ago. “No.”
“There’s no third party involved though, right?”
“God, no.” Donghyuck’s heart clenches at the thought. And maybe he can’t really tell it from the top of Mark’s head, but he swears he sees him tense up too. “No. Never,” he says again, for good measure.
“Oh good. I was so worried.” Jisung sighs, hand to his heart. “So how did it happen then?”
Donghyuck frowns. Mark’s hair bobs up a little bit in front of him. “How did what happen?”
“The breakup,” Jisung says. To his credit, he’s trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible but his tone is naturally so low that Donghyuck can feel it vibrate along the entire cabin. “Mark hyung only told us you called things off on good terms, but none of us can really imagine what it was like to break up after being together for as long as you guys have. Chenle’s actually pissed because you guys gave us joint presents for Christmas only to split up like this.”
Behind him, Donghyuck hears someone gasp. “Son of a bitch, they gave me a joint present for my birthday too! And I’m the cheap ass?l!” Renjun whisper-shouts.
“What the fuck? This is a private conversation. Stop listening in on us,” Donghyuck hisses. He flicks Renjun’s nose from where it was peeking between their seats.
Renjun only flashes him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I’ll shut up. Just keep talking. I’m curious too.”
Donghyuck sputters, not really sure what to say next. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s exactly what Mark hyung told you guys. He got a job offer that required him to leave and he took it. That’s it.”
“Yeah, but you were together what, seven years, Hyuck,” Renjun points out. “How do you just end something like that? Did he just come up to you like ‘hey, I got this new job but I have to leave you, we should break up,’ and you went along with it?”
Donghyuck feels his face burn. “I thought you said you were gonna shut up.”
“Jisung, ask him,” Renjun says.
Jisung shrugs. “What he said.”
Donghyuck groans lowly. His eyes dart back to the top of Mark’s head, still worried, but Mark has put on his headphones. Whether it’s a personal choice and he really wants to listen to music or he just put it on for Donghyuck’s sake, it doesn’t really matter. Donghyuck appreciates it nonetheless.
“Well?” Jisung follows up.
“Well,” Donghyuck echoes with a heavy sigh, “what else should I tell you? That’s exactly how it happened.”
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
It didn’t really come off as a surprise. Well, of course Donghyuck was shocked, mostly because of the timing. But it was one of those things you could see coming from a mile away, yet you hope it never arrives. And when it does arrive, no matter how much you think you’ve prepared enough to take it, it comes as a huge breathtaking punch to your gut nonetheless. After all, a tsunami you see coming is still a tsunami that kills.
Mark got the job offer before Christmas. He came home all buzzing and giddy, even picking Donghyuck up from where he was sitting on the couch and kissing him against the wall. Donghyuck didn’t really hear what it was about until Mark made him come twice, once on the couch and once more against the kitchen counter.
It turns out Mark was given an opportunity to work with a large record label to produce a soundtrack for some large project that no one is allowed to know about yet. An answered prayer, Mark said, and it truly seemed like so.
Donghyuck knew Mark had been burning out at his current job for almost a year. It’s starting to show in the hollowness of his cheeks and the dullness of his eyes. If he takes on this project, he’ll get to work with some high profile producers in the industry, and maybe regain the fiery passion for music that he lost somewhere along the way. The opportunity for growth is too exponential to not even consider. That in itself is a huge pro point.
But!!!
Con: The label wants him to split his time between their subsidiary company in Seoul and its headquarters in LA.
Pro: Mark will get to fall in love with life again.
Con: He’ll have to do half of it without Donghyuck.
Pro: He’ll do half of it with Donghyuck.
Con: He doesn’t think he knows a life outside of Donghyuck.
Mark said he was given a few months to think about it. The project wasn’t set to start until the second quarter of the following year after all. But even then, Donghyuck already knew at least half of Mark’s heart was fully committed to it.
It was a slow descent from there.
Mark would get random bursts of inspiration that he’d work with for a few days, barely eating, barely sleeping, then abandon the idea halfway through like it stopped serving any purpose. Donghyuck had to witness the several times Mark took out another music sheet only to crumple it a few minutes later, had to watch helplessly as the life slowly drained out of his eyes.
It’s strange, actually. All that frustration, Mark only took out at work. He didn’t really change with Donghyuck much. If anything, he just got clingier. He’d hug him longer in the morning, or ask to cuddle on the couch in the middle of the day. He’d sneak out of work to take Donghyuck out for lunch, and sometimes they’d go home to make love. They even did it on Mark’s car in the basement of Donghyuck’s office a couple of times.
Like two fools in love who just started dating.
But Donghyuck already had a feeling then. That was Mark’s “I love you, but…”, laced in every embrace and every stolen kiss on busy sidewalks. But the only time he knew for sure that they were a ticking time bomb was when Mark took him out for a stroll by the Han River.
“If I ask you to move and start over in a different country with me, would you?”
Donghyuck was preoccupied with watching a raccoon play hide and seek, so he replied mindlessly, “Of course, Melk. If it’s with you, anything.”
“Even if it’s somewhere you don’t speak the language? No kimchi, no Korean food. Just burgers and pizzas and matcha. You’d still come?” Mark asked. He was holding Donghyuck’s fingers tightly, like if he let go a little, he’d go running off like the raccoon.
Donghyuck knew what Mark was hinting at but he didn’t have it in him to talk about it seriously at that moment. So he scrunched his nose. “You lost me with that last part,” he said.
Mark only chuckled, looking down on his feet. Nothing deep, nothing true.
He brought it up again about a week after, more straightforward this time. “Hyuck, what if you come to LA with me?”
Donghyuck laughed out loud, still reacting like Mark was joking. He hoped he was joking. “Sure. And maybe I can go play on Broadway too.”
“That’s in New York,” Mark pointed out.
Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “Fine, then Hollywood.”
“I mean, why not?”
Donghyuck pressed his lips in a tight smile. He couldn’t joke his way out of this one. “I have a job here, Mel, and I love doing it. The kids, the studio, all of it. I can’t just up and leave.”
“You can get a job there too though. You can even dance, do your theater, maybe finally learn ballet. And if you want to keep teaching, you can. They have kids in LA too,” Mark pointed out.
Now, Donghyuck really laughs. “You want a bunch of American kindergartners to learn from a teacher whose English vocabulary is limited to ‘fuck,’ ‘please,’ and ‘baby’?”
“Those are not the only English words you know,” Mark grumbled, ears red.
“Those are the English words you say when we—”
“Hyuck.”
“Mark.” Donghyuck cupped his boyfriend’s cheeks between his palms. “You don’t have to worry about bringing me with you. You’ll always have me to come home to.”
Mark pouted. “I know. But—”
“No buts, baby.” Donghyuck planted a kiss on Mark’s puckered lips. “Just chase your dreams. We’ll be fine. I promise.”
That’s when Donghyuck learned he should stop promising things out of his control.
Mark’s dream has always been simple. He wants his heart and soul stamped on the music he creates, wants it to touch lives and shape emotions and transcend time and space. And for the past year, or maybe even longer, he’d been losing sight of it. So when the chance came to jump back into it, he was more than eager to deep dive.
Perhaps too eager.
It was one of those things that would’ve been quite funny if it happened to other people. Mark broke up with him over dinner at a chicken and beer place in Hongdae, like that stupid meme the kids love to joke about these days.
They ordered a classic half and half with a couple of beers. Mark usually devoured his chicken wings as soon as the plate touched the table, but he’d been unusually quiet that day. Donghyuck had already finished three before he even took his first bite.
“What’s wrong?” Donghyuck asked, so casual. “You haven’t touched your food.”
Mark blinked, shaking his head before it dropped. He nimbled on a piece of chicken like it was forced upon him.
Donghyuck watched him anxiously, the way he just bit into the damn thing instead of plucking the bones out like he always did. “Are you okay?”
“M’fine.” Mark couldn’t even meet his eyes.
“Hey. Seriously. What is it?” Donghyuck grew restless by the minute. Now, it was him who couldn’t even touch his food. “You haven’t spoken much since I picked you up. Are you feeling sick? Is it your allergies?”
“No. It’s not that, I’m fine. It’s—” Mark clicked his tongue before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “It’s nothing. Let’s just eat, please.”
“I can’t eat when something’s clearly bothering you,” Donghyuck argued, his voice growing louder. “Just spit it out!”
Mark’s hand was balled into fist on the table. “I need to leave you,” he said.
For a moment, Donghyuck thought the entire restaurant froze. His cheeks felt numb, his fingers tingling. He wanted to say something. Anything, really. What do you mean? Leave me how? I already know you’re leaving but you’re coming back anyway, right? What’s the matter? But all he actually managed was a shaky sigh as he sank into his seat.
“Hyuck.” Mark sounded like he was pleading.
“Why?” Donghyuck’s voice was unnervingly steady when he spoke. “I think I already know, but tell me why.”
Mark made an uncomfortable sound. “Look, I don’t want to do this here. Can we please just—”
“We’re already here, Mark. You already started. Might as well finish it,” Donghyuck said, still eerily calm.
The air was heavy with Mark’s hesitation but Donghyuck was unflinching in his seat. He continued eating, even de-boning one chicken to put on Mark’s small plate, like nothing’s happening, like they weren’t dooming their past seven years. Donghyuck was an immovable object and Mark should have been an unstoppable force, but Mark has always been quite weak against, for, and with Donghyuck.
So he gave up.
“I don’t think I can do it,” Mark said. He clenched his jaw, fingers digging into his palm. At first, Donghyuck thought that was him backtracking, that maybe he suddenly realized he was wrong, that this was not what he wanted, that what he said was a mistake. How foolish of him. It could not be farther from that. “I don’t think I can be halfway across the world and give my all there when part of me is tethered to you.” This time, Mark said it outright: “Hyuck, I love you, but—”
“But you can’t choose both at the same time,” Donghyuck supplied because Mark looked like he was about to pass out if he said it. “So you need to leave me.”
Mark looked down on his plate, at that piece of chicken wing that Donghyuck prepared for him exactly how he likes it, exactly like how he taught him several years ago. His first tear fell directly on the table, like a heavy diamond, not even grazing his cheek.
Nobody spoke for a moment. Even Donghyuck couldn’t keep pretending he was still enjoying his food. Suddenly, everything tasted bitter, the air, the cola, the fucking yangnyeom. When it was clear that neither of them could stomach another bite, Donghyuck stood up to pay for the bill, Mark trailing behind him.
“Hyuck,” Mark called out pathetically as they exited the restaurant.
“No, you’re right,” Donghyuck said with an empty chuckle. “We shouldn’t have done this here.”
They went home without a word. As soon as they entered the apartment, Donghyuck ran straight to the fridge to get himself a beer. He popped it open, took three big gulps before turning on the faucet on the kitchen sink, watching it run for a few seconds. He slid his hand along the stream, splashing his face with the cold water. Mark was watching beside him helplessly, arm outstretched like he wanted to pull Donghyuck closer but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch.
“Hyuck, say something,” Mark begged.
Donghyuck had been thinking the whole ride home, but every thought slipped his mind like water through his fingers. It seemed there was only one ending to this. Fight or let go, Donghyuck would lose either way. If he wanted Mark to be truly happy, there was no more point in resisting. After all, a tsunami you see approaching is still a tsunami that kills.
“Okay,” Donghyuck said.
Mark looked up at him, his eyes rimmed with red. “What?”
“Okay,” Donghyuck repeated with a shrug. It was a miracle that he hasn’t shed a tear yet. Maybe because none of it really sank into him that night. All he knew was that Mark was chasing a dream and he had to go where Donghyuck couldn’t follow, and he knew it had been weighing on his mind for some time.
It took him quite a while to realize what Mark really meant, where his frustration was coming from—how he always worked hard, tired himself out, but the pit he was filling up seemed to be bottomless. He felt confined to what he’s used to, trapped with doing the same thing over and over, never getting closer to his true potential. He loved—loves Donghyuck but he’s also all he’s ever known. And for someone so fascinated with novelty, familiarity just wasn’t enough inspiration.
Donghyuck believed he made the right choice by letting him go.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, leave. I won’t stop you.” Donghyuck kept his eyes on Mark, watched every twitch of his face, every little expression. There was so much pain there, and if these were different circumstances, Donghyuck wouldn’t think twice about jumping into his arms and kissing the worries off his lips. “I know you won’t be doing this unless you see a better option. So okay. Do what you need to do. Don’t regret it, don’t feel bad about it. You’re just choosing yourself. I would never ever dream of stopping that, so don’t worry about me. Go live your dreams.”
Mark’s head dropped, sobs racking off his throat. He stood there, trying to hide the heart on his sleeve, but Donghyuck had loved him for so long, known him for even longer. It was second nature to share his pain.
So Donghyuck pulled Mark into an embrace, a hand on his nape and another on the small of his back, his body absorbing the vibrations for each shaky breath Mark took, like waves crumbling the mountains, sand giving way to shore.
“I’m sorry, Hyuck. I’m so sorry,” Mark cried against Donghyuck’s skin, holding him even tighter, almost bone crushing.
Donghyuck only shook his head. “Don’t say that,” he mumbled, his voice breaking too. “If you do this, don’t say you’re sorry. You’re not doing anything wrong, and I refuse to be the reason you regret anything.” He pulled away to put Mark’s face between his palms again, thumb gently brushing the tear stains off his cheeks. “Look, I’m grateful for all the years you’ve always put me first, Mark. I won’t hold it against you if you prioritize yourself this time. Or ever.” He smiled over his tear-rimmed eyes. “I’m afraid I just love you too much.”
Mark’s pout grew deeper, every muscle in his face portraying his heartbreak. He went back to burrowing his head on Donghyuck’s neck until his sobs slowly simmered to gentle, steady breaths.
Donghyuck wouldn’t have minded staying like that forever, but he felt his resolve growing weaker by the minute. Mark was an unstoppable force and Donghyuck should’ve been an immovable object, but Donghyuck has also always been quite weak against, for, and with Mark.
“Alright, now get away from me,” Donghyuck said teasingly. “I might start begging you to stay and I’m scared you actually will.”
Mark only smiled as he finally pulled away.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
The only thing worse than a red-eye flight is a flight that lands on your destination at midnight. Okay, maybe not worse, but it’s definitely up there.
As soon as Jisung stopped with his interrogation, Donghyuck snoozed off. It’s been a while since he had a good night’s sleep. The anxiety of meeting Mark again and the excitement of the trip was enough to keep his mind going in circles at bedtime. So the static hum of the plane and the gentle vibrations on the cabin knocked him right out.
Donghyuck was still pretty much half-asleep when they landed. Or when he got through immigration, or while they waited for their baggage on the carousel. Jeno helped him take his luggage out after watching it almost drag Donghyuck for a few good feet. (He remembers none of this the next morning.)
Donghyuck is still out of it even as Renjun leads them to the airport service he hired. The moment he settles into his seat, Donghyuck is once again out like a light. He only wakes up when he feels a hand shaking him.
“Wake up, princess. We’re here,” Jaemin says with a smile.
Donghyuck drags himself out of the van, squinting at the quiet city that greets them in the middle of the night. Most of the shops are closed except for a convenience store and a 24-hour grocery across the street. Donghyuck feels a little bit like they’re invading the peace and quiet of the beautiful Taipei, but more importantly, he can’t wait to wash his face off and slump on the hotel bed.
Since they’re quite a large group of adults who are too dumb and lazy to split bills, they usually just agree on which hotel to stay at and book rooms separately by subgroups (or individually, as Renjun usually does because “I’d rather be broke than room with any of you gross assholes for a week.”). And since all the planning took place last December, it was only natural for Mark and Donghyuck to book their room together.
They… sort of never circled back to that fact, until now.
Donghyuck hands his ID to the hotel receptionist because of course, he ran past everyone else to get checked in first. When the receptionist asks if he’s the only one staying in the room, Donghyuck hesitates for a while before saying no. He turns back to the group, meeting Mark’s eyes at once as if he’s waiting to be called.
“I need your ID,” Donghyuck tells him, voice raspy with sleep.
Mark hands it to the receptionist with a polite bow before turning to Donghyuck. “Are you sure you want to stay with me?”
“I’m so tired, Mel. I’d probably sleep talk the entire night. You’re the only one who can sleep through that,” Donghyuck reasons through a yawn. “Besides, those four idiots are staying in a family suite together, and Renjun definitely won’t let me stay with him. And I don’t know about you, but I’d love some peace and quiet. So yeah, I’m sure.”
Mark chuckles softly as he gazes at their friends, all in different stages of tired and dozy. Renjun seems to be gearing up for a bitch fight. “Did you request for separate beds?” Mark asks.
Donghyuck blinks sluggishly at him. “No. I didn’t think of that.”
“Do you want separate beds?”
Honestly, Donghyuck couldn’t care less. What he wants is to get this over with and sleep. But he supposes he owes it to his future self to answer a very slow “Yes…?”
“I got it.” Mark smiles. He calls the receptionist and mumbles his request. They go back and forth discussing it for a little while, the receptionist tapping away on her keyboard as Mark engages her in a polite and incredibly charming conversation. Maybe it’s that or maybe they’re just lucky, but they finally get their keycards after a while.
“Deluxe twin with a bathtub,” Mark says proudly as he hands Donghyuck his card. “As requested.”
Donghyuck kisses it dramatically before pointing it to the heavens. “Thank you Jesus!”
Mark laughs beside him, that whiny, breathy kind of laugh that just tugs at Donghyuck’s heartstrings in the best way. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Jaemin stops them, arms open wide as if Mark and Donghyuck were about to run away. “You’re sleeping together? You’re not switching with one of us?”
“Unless you want to hear him monologue in his sleep.” Mark shrugs, always kind.
Donghyuck isn’t. He’s way too sleepy and irritable and so goddamn impatient to get out of these stupid jeans so he clicks his tongue and says firmly, “Nope. No one’s switching. I need to sleep. Goodnight.”
Mark flashes their friends a sheepish grin. “We’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Mark is smiling like a buffoon as they ride up the elevator.
Donghyuck glares at him. “What’s with your face? You look stupid.”
“You’re so cranky,” Mark notes with no bite.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Mark grins even wider, his cheeks popping out. “Nothing. Just… earlier. You called me Mel again.”
Donghyuck scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Loser,” he says.
Mark scoffs. “God, you really should sleep,” he grumbles.
Donghyuck only laughs. It’s strange. He thought it would be awkward but things are still pretty comfortable around Mark, all things considered. Maybe it’s Donghyuck’s brain feeling loopy from exhaustion or maybe it’s the habits formed through all their years together. But honestly? Maybe it’s because it’s Mark. It’s still Mark.
Donghyuck takes a quick, warm shower and changes into pajamas. He takes the bed closer to the window without any protests from his hyung. That’s how they used to sleep, with Donghyuck on the left side and Mark on the right.
It’s almost two in the morning when he finally gets under the sheets, shuddering at the cold feeling of his feet slipping under the blankets. He really thought he’d drift off as soon as his head hit the pillow, but it’s been five minutes since he shut his eyes and sleep seems to be playing hide and seek.
On the bed beside him, Mark lies quietly, also awake, fingers drumming against his stomach. Something lingers in the air, like flammable gas waiting to catch fire. Perhaps that’s what’s keeping them both awake.
“Hyuck,” Mark calls, his voice soft and unsure. The bed creaks under him as he turns to face Donghyuck.
Meanwhile, Donghyuck is resolute in keeping his back flat and his eyes shut, hoping that Mark can take the hint.
He can’t. “I know you’re not asleep yet,” Mark says.
“What do you want, hyung?” Donghyuck asks.
“Back to hyung again, I see,” Mark mumbles. Then he sighs. “I heard what you said to Jisung on the plane.”
Donghyuck tenses. He tries to stay calm, but there’s a million ways this could go. Half of it won’t be pretty. “About what? We talked a lot,” he points out.
“About us. About how we broke up,” Mark says. “How you said you just went along with it.”
Donghyuck’s breath hitches in his throat. He swallows thickly. “What about it?”
“I don’t know,” Mark mumbles. “I guess I just never asked. Why did you just go along with it?”
Donghyuck snorts. He lets the silence linger for a while, turning in his bed too, facing the window and away from Mark. He can feel him waiting, holding on to the moment, wondering if Donghyuck will bite. He doesn’t. It’s too early. And it’s also too late.
So Donghyuck yawns exaggeratedly instead. “We should sleep, hyung,” he says, “Renjun wants us up early tomorrow.”
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
The night they broke up, Mark offered to sleep on the couch. Donghyuck was only able to endure a whole thirty minutes of it before dragging him back to bed.
Mark tried to protest, saying maybe it would be best to give each other some space. Donghyuck argued that they’d have more than enough of that when Mark eventually leaves. They put a pillow between them for the sake of keeping it civil, but when Donghyuck woke up at 3AM, he was sweating from having Mark’s arms around him. And despite feeling sticky, Donghyuck buried himself further into the heat of Mark’s chest.
The next morning, he still felt a kiss on his cheek before Mark left for work. And when he got home late that night, Mark was still waiting for him on the couch.
For the first few days, it didn’t really feel like a break. It was closer to how their mornings look after a huge fight—guarded but still filled with so much tenderness. Mark would sit beside Donghyuck at the breakfast table, toes touching but only exchanging polite pleasantries. Donghyuck would lie in bed with his back facing Mark but wouldn’t fight if he pulled him closer in his sleep.
It only actually felt like the end about two weeks after, when Mark finally convinced Johnny to let him use his extra bedroom for a while.
Donghyuck was still hovering between nightmare and reality then. He made sure not to be around while Mark was packing his things, scared of the emotions it might pull out of him, of what it might make him do. It was useless, really, because Mark made sure to stay until Donghyuck got home, equally terrified of what he might miss.
They still ate dinner together because it felt wrong not to. It was routine to set two places at the dining table, for Donghyuck to cook for two, and for Mark to wash the dishes when they’re done.
The time to leave seemed to move further and further away, chores suddenly popping up out of nowhere, always something to do, some reason to keep staying. But eventually it was 10:23PM and Johnny had called to make sure if Mark still planned on using his guest room.
“Go,” Donghyuck said. They were in the living room, finally arranging the bookshelf like they meant to months ago. “I can finish this alone.”
Mark looked like he wanted to protest. Instead, he asked, “Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?”
Donghyuck scoffed. “I’m a grown man, Mark. I don’t need protecting.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Mark grumbled.
Donghyuck met his eyes for a moment. “I’ll be fine. I am fine,” he said, forcing out a smile. “Go.”
Five seconds. That’s how long Mark stood staring at him before he finally made a step. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” he said before opening the front door.
Mark packed seven boxes of his stuff. That night, he only brought out two. That was the first time Donghyuck cried about being left behind.
It was after four days when Mark returned. He made sure to drop by on Donghyuck’s day off. He brought him a box of croquettes because Jaemin had mentioned to him that Donghyuck was craving it the other day.
They talked, all calmly and casually—how was staying at Johnny hyung’s? Good, he’s surprisingly neat about everything. Were you able to sleep well? Yeah, some nights get cold though. Where did we buy those wool blankets again? My mom got it for us last Christmas. Should I ask her? No, I’ll look it up. Are you staying for dinner? Yes. Do you need any help? No, but you’re still in charge of washing dishes.
It was all too familiar, like nothing really changed except for the boxes by the door and half of the closet being empty and half of the bed being cold.
The next day, Mark came back to get more of his boxes, his books, his drum pad, his mic. He stayed for dinner again because Donghyuck made jajangmyeon and it “smelled too good to pass on.”
He was back again the next day. Just to double check. He took away three wired earphones, two of which he lost months ago. He stayed for dinner again because Donghyuck ordered way too much fried chicken. Accidentally, Donghyuck said. Sure, Mark replied.
Mark returned again and again and again, each time with a different excuse—I think I left a hoodie; just checking if my notebook is here; you weren’t replying, I got worried; I miss you; nothing, I just wanted to see you.
Every time, Donghyuck let him in. Every day, he struggled a bit more with figuring out if love should mean letting go or if it demanded being fought for. Every day, he grew less sure if those two even meant different things.
They sit on the opposite sides of the couch, eat on opposite ends of the table. Sometimes, Mark would breathe too close and Donghyuck would feel himself leaning in, like the ocean retracting for a big wave.
One time, Mark caught him doing the laundry and offered to help. Donghyuck watched him fold his clothes on the couch, yawning through the slow afternoon. He felt a deep ache in his arm, his muscles protesting at the memory of reaching out to Mark, pulling him in, and wandering his body to map out each curve of flesh, each corner of bone.
Mark must have felt him staring. He turned to him with a hanged smile, and Donghyuck wondered if the problem was him trying too hard to keep his distance or if Mark wasn’t trying hard enough. Mark held his hand out and waited for Donghyuck to come closer, like he was certain he would, like he knew he had Donghyuck still. He placed his hands on Donghyuck’s waist, pulling him in until he could rest his forehead on Donghyuck’s stomach.
“Mark,” Donghyuck whined. “What are you doing?”
Mark looked up at him and sighed. He tugged on the ends of Donghyuck’s shirt until he was sitting on his lap, straddling him. Mark wrapped his arms around Donghyuck’s torso, keeping him steady as he touched his forehead against his, eyes fluttering close.
“Hey,” Donghyuck whispered, his arms on high guard against Mark’s biceps but he did nothing to pull away. “We shouldn’t.”
Mark made a low sound in his throat. “Just stay for a while, Hyuck,” he mumbled. “Please.”
Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, lips tingling with Mark’s every exhale. They were hanging on a cliff and Mark was pushing Donghyuck closer to the edge.
“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asked. It seemed such a silly question given the state of things, like running someone over and asking them if it hurt.
Mark hummed. “Been better,” he replied. “Just missed you.”
“Mark.”
“Sorry.”
“You keep on using my weaknesses against me,” Donghyuck said softly. “You know eventually, I’ll stop saying yes.”
“But not tonight,” Mark took the words out of Donghyuck’s mouth.
Donghyuck shook his head, almost too subtle. He opened his mouth to speak, but the slight tilt of his head had his lips catching the corner of Mark’s. There was a small gasp from one of them, then the free fall.
Mark planted his lips onto Donghyuck’s, gentle at first then recklessly crashing, hands flying to his jaw, pulling out a whimper. Donghyuck had to hold on to Mark’s shoulder to keep himself from falling, hips grinding down on Mark’s lap, forcing a groan out of his throat. The force of it all was too great for Donghyuck’s lithe body, his fragile heart.
He had to pull away, chest clenching at how Mark seemed to trail after his lips.
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispered, still panting. It’s all he ever said these days.
Donghyuck pushed himself off of him, running a hand through his hair. He looked around at the mess of his apartment, the pile of clean clothes, the remaining boxes by the door. “I’m not cooking tonight,” he said. “You should, um—” he cleared his throat, words dying on his tongue.
Mark stared at him, mouth open like he wanted to argue. He seemed to decide against it, nodding once before standing up, reading between Donghyuck’s lines perfectly. “I’ll go,” he said, rubbing his palms on the back of his jeans, lips pressed tight.
Donghyuck only nodded, not trusting himself to speak. And again, he did nothing as he watched Mark go.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
“Why are you alone?” Renjun asks as soon as Donghyuck meets him at the breakfast buffet.
“Good morning to you too,” Donghyuck grumbles, picking up a bread plate and grabbing himself a couple of dinner rolls. “Mark hyung’s still asleep when I left. Where are the others?”
Renjun nods to the table at the far end of the ballroom where Jeno and Jisung are both staring blankly at the centerpiece, probably still half-asleep. At least Jisung is wearing a t-shirt now. Renjun must have helped cover up his marks. “Jaem and Chenle are still fixing up. They’ll be here soon,” Renjun says. “You should really wake Mark hyung up. We’re leaving after breakfast.”
“Pfft. He’s a grown man. He has his alarms and everything,” Donghyuck replies.
Actually, Donghyuck has been awake since 5AM. He got up to use the restroom and couldn’t go back to sleep. So he snuck out of the room and dropped by the convenience store across the street to eat a sandwich. When he got back an hour later, Mark was still in deep sleep.
Donghyuck stared at him for a while and sighed. Mark still slept like a koala, curled up and clinging onto something. It used to be Donghyuck. Now it’s the extra pillow he found in the hotel closet. Still adorable, nonetheless. Not that Donghyuck will admit that out loud anymore.
Jaemin and Chenle join them after a while, each with a couple of breakfast plates in their hands. Everyone is halfway through their meal when Donghyuck’s guilt starts gnawing on his gut, anxious at the possibility of Mark oversleeping and missing breakfast. He’d be getting the brunt of Renjun’s frustrations if they start the day later than he intended, and it would fuck up the vibe, and everyone would think they shouldn’t have come at all, and—
“Morning, guys.”
The chair beside Donghyuck screeches against the floor as it’s pulled away from the table. Donghyuck looks up to a smiling Mark with his striped shirt and denim shorts. He’s wearing the sneakers Donghyuck bought for him last Christmas.
Everyone mumbles their own version of good morning, not even paying much attention to Mark (who smells fucking amazing, by the way) because obviously, no one else was spiraling in their heads the same way Donghyuck was.
“Hey.” Mark smiles at Donghyuck specifically. He hands him the powerbank that Donghyuck left charging by his bedside table overnight and completely forgot about until this moment. “You left this in the room.”
Fuck, Donghyuck wants to cry. “Thank you.”
“Does anyone want a refill on anything? I’m going to the buffet table,” Mark asks. Jisung requests for more bacon but everyone else seemed full. So Mark turns to Donghyuck instead. “More dinner rolls?”
Donghyuck stares at his empty bread plate. “Yes, please,” he answers timidly. “Oh, and choose the cream potato soup. You’ll like that better than the chowder.”
Mark smirks. “Duly noted.”
When Mark returns with the food, Renjun begins to brief them again about their itinerary for the day—a tour around the city’s landmarks and a couple of museums. He’s a pretty loose travel planner, only setting a specific area to explore for the day and leaving everything else up for spontaneity. As someone who loathes the jam-packed schedules of joiner tours, Donghyuck appreciates this set up a lot.
“Hey.” Mark nudges Donghyuck as Renjun goes through the list of museums they could visit. “When we get back, do you have any plans?”
Donghyuck frowns. “Back where?” He pinches a piece of his dinner roll and dunks it in the soup.
“Here. Tonight, I mean.”
Donghyuck tells Mark to open his mouth, letting him try the creamy dinner roll. “It’s good, isn’t it? The butter complements the soup well.” Donghyuck watches intently as Mark nods, eyes lighting up.
“Pretty good,” Mark agrees, taking on another bite from Donghyuck’s hand. “So, do you have plans?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I saw a photobooth in the building next door,” Mark says. “We should go.”
“Mark,” Donghyuck replies pointedly.
Mark stares at him innocently. “What? No harm in keeping up with traditions, right?”
It’s something that started in Jeju a few years ago during their anniversary. An accident of sorts because they happened to fly into the island during a storm. No sunny hills or crystal blue oceans or picturesque views. Donghyuck bought an ‘I ♥︎ JEJU’ shirt and made Mark wear a silly tangerine bucket hat. Souvenirs, he said. They shoved themselves in a photobooth, posed, kissed, made faces. Mark displayed the photo strip on their fridge at home.
Since then, every trip had to involve an ‘I ♥︎’ shirt, a silly accessory, and a new photobooth strip to add to their collection.
“You don’t even have a shirt yet,” Donghyuck points out. In his mind, he says Stop making me think we’ll still be doing everything together.
Mark scoffs smugly. “We’re going to museums today. That’ll get us a shirt. Maybe a cap too.”
“Yeah, but—” Donghyuck pauses when he realizes the rest of the table is silent. He turns to their friends, finding them staring back with all kinds of expressions from mildly amused to pleasantly shocked. He blinks and tries for some nonchalance. “What?”
Renjun shakes his head and sighs. “You guys still love each other, we get it,” he grumbles. Beside him, Jaemin chokes on his soup. “Now, will you please listen?”
While Donghyuck’s cheeks blush to kingdom come, Mark calmly chuckles under his breath and leans back in his seat. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Please continue.”
First order of business: visit the tallest building in the city.
Jaemin, with his architecture heart, and Jeno, with his engineer mind, are especially excited to see Taipei 101. They keep talking about the incredible science of it the entire way there. Donghyuck tried to engage in the conversation until Jeno started rattling about dampers and beams and wind physics. All Donghyuck knew is how to get the building’s best angles for a nice photo.
Renjun, ever diligent in his role, gets them tickets to the view deck. This takes them to a queue for the high-speed elevator, the kind that takes you up a few hundred meters up the sky in less than a minute.
“Hyuck,” Mark calls right before they enter, because somehow, he’s right beside him again.
Donghyuck, without much prompting, fishes his purse for Mark’s candies, because he’s loved this ear-pop-hating-idiot for so long, and known him for even longer. “Here.”
“God, I should really get myself some of these,” Mark mutters as he sucks on the mint.
Donghyuck hums and mindlessly replies, “It’s all good. I got you.”
It’s Chenle who has something to say this time. “You know, if you guys never told us you broke up, we never would’ve known.”
Donghyuck laughs through his nose. Mark is right beside him, mesmerized by the video playing on the roof of the elevator. His hands are hanging limply by his side, knuckles touching Donghyuck’s like a dare—or a plea—to hold and be held. Three months ago, it’d be instinct. Now, it’s almost a sin.
Donghyuck lets out a deep breath as the elevators open to the 88th floor. He steps out, gaining some distance from the group. This is usually the part where Mark jogs after him and slips his finger between his, where their friends used to tease them about being too touchy in public. Now, Donghyuck hugs his arms to himself while Mark stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“You’d know,” Donghyuck tells Chenle when he gets beside him. “It’d be subtle, but you’d know.”
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Renjun was the first one Donghyuck told. Well, less told, more like the first one to pluck the information out of him. Donghyuck definitely wouldn’t have said anything if he could help it, still terrified of saying it out loud.
‘We broke up’ seemed too goddamn insufficient to describe the hole in his life right now. But that was what it was.
They were in Donghyuck’s apartment. It had been two weeks since Mark left, nearly a month after the break up. Renjun came over for dinner because he felt like he hadn’t seen Donghyuck in so long. They pulled up a movie and popped open a bottle of wine. They were halfway through Before Sunrise when Renjun sniffed the strange atmosphere.
“Why is it so quiet here?” he asked. “Is Mark hyung working late again?”
Donghyuck, who was already getting used to his quieter nights, didn’t even think anything was out of the ordinary until Renjun pointed it out. He wanted to say yes, he’s just working late again, he’ll be back later, we’ll be sleeping on the same bed. But it had only been a few nights ago when he begged Mark not to return, to save themselves from more heartbreak.
“I don’t know,” Donghyuck answered truthfully.
Renjun turned to him with a lopsided grin because Donghyuck’s minor inconveniences have always been amusing to his friends. “You guys fighting?”
Pfft. Donghyuck wished they were fighting. That would be a minor inconvenience. This was closer to a catastrophe, absolutely nothing to be fucking grinning about. “No. He, um—” Donghyuck cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady, eyes darting everywhere but at Renjun. “He doesn’t stay here anymore, Junnie.”
Renjun shifted in his seat to lean closer to Donghyuck, studying his face, like he was begging him to say he was just fucking with him. “What do you mean?”
Donghyuck clenched his fingers around his wine glass, nodding as if to assure himself that this was okay. He’d been getting used to it, it’s about time he said it outright. “We broke up,” he croaked. “Nothing bad happened. We’re good. We’re just—” Donghyuck tried to search for the right words. How could he explain why they aren’t together anymore? How could he make anyone understand that Mark’s choice wasn’t selfish? “Our time’s just up, I guess.”
A little bit of color drained from Renjun’s face. “You’re joking.”
Donghyuck tried to force a smile as he shook his head, but his emotions forced his eyebrows to a frown, his vision blurring with tears. He barely registered Renjun moving closer, pulling him into a hug.
“Oh, Hyuck,” Renjun sighed.
It took about two seconds before Donghyuck broke, his heart cracking open, setting his lungs on fire. That was probably the first time he cried without inhibitions, all his grief and anxieties pouring out in ugly sobs and labored breaths. It was only then that he realized how thinly he was holding himself together, how shallow were the solutions he’d built, how great of a love he’d just lost.
Mark had been in his life for so long that he was everywhere—from the way Donghyuck made coffee to the way he now appreciates the serene beauty of the night sky. Mark had changed him in ways he didn’t know he could be changed, so much that when anyone thinks of Donghyuck, they’d think of Mark. How he could even dream to live a life without his other half, he had no idea.
The rest of that night was a blur. He didn’t really tell Renjun what happened or why, but he seemed to piece together that it had something to do with Mark’s job. He remembers Renjun scolding him about finishing the wine bottle, then about not telling anyone what he was going through. Donghyuck argued that he didn’t know how, that he hadn’t even told his mother, that he was afraid of saying it out loud because that would mean it’s real, it’s final, he really lost Mark.
“You know, none of us have heard anything from Mark hyung either,” Renjun pointed out. “Maybe he’s thinking the same thing.”
“Maybe.” Donghyuck hiccupped, pressing his lips in a tight grin. “But I’d rather not set myself up like that.”
Word must have travelled right away, because a couple days later, Donghyuck had his entire week booked. His friends seemed to have talked about taking turns to cheer him up. Jeno took him to an arcade, Chenle invited him over for dinner, Jisung picked him up from work to get coffee. Jaemin just asked him to babysit his cats, but Donghyuck decided to count that to his good graces as well.
That weekend, Mark called. Donghyuck was in the middle of a game with Jisung when he saw the name pop up on his phone. All his internal alarms went off and suddenly nothing seemed to matter much anymore.
“Hyung! What are you doing? You’re gonna get shot—oh, shit!” Jisung squealed through the phone, but Donghyuck felt like his head was underwater. His character must’ve died on the screen.
“Jisungie, I gotta go,” he said, exiting the call before Jisung could protest.
He had to take three deep breaths, his body nearly collapsing on the couch before he could answer with a very hesitant, “Hello..?”
“Hyuck.” Mark said his name like it was part of an exhale.
“Hi.”
It was silent for a second, just Mark breathing through the speakers. “How are you?” he asked after a while.
It sounded so ridiculous, Donghyuck wanted to laugh. Ten years of shared memories and easy conversation reduced to how are you? because they could no longer tell.
“I’m fine,” Donghyuck lied. “What’s up?”
Silence again. There was some shuffling in the background, like Mark was getting into bed. “I was with Jeno today,” he mumbled.
Donghyuck nodded, shoulders tensing at the loaded pause.
“You’ve already told them about us..?”
Donghyuck’s breath hitched in his throat. “I only told Renjun,” he replied.
Mark chuckled lightly. “You know that’s the same thing.”
“Right.” Donghyuck smiled despite himself. “Is there a problem?”
“No. No, just—” Mark let out a breath. “Sorry. I don’t know why I called. Jeno checked up on me out of nowhere, so I figured you must’ve told them already. Which is fine! That’s totally up to you. But I just—” He sighed again, more broken this time. “I haven’t told them yet. I guess it felt weird. I don’t know. It’s just me. Sorry. I’m not making sense. I just really—”
“Mark, stop,” Donghyuck interjected before Mark could end up saying something they’d both regret. “It’s weird for me too, but you know we can’t be like this forever.”
“I know. I know.” Donghyuck could imagine Mark chewing on his lips like he always did when he’s anxious. “Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry,” Donghyuck groaned through a laugh. “I swear to god I’ll start charging you for every time I hear you say sorry.”
“Fine, sorry—no, I mean ugh. I can’t help it,” Mark moaned. “I’ll shut up.”
Donghyuck snorted. “You should.” He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, squirming in the silence but not wanting to end the call. Donghyuck sucked in a breath, gathering some courage. “Hey, um—” he cleared his throat, “since we’re already talking about it, can I ask why?”
“Why what?”
“Why you haven’t told them about us,” Donghyuck said, his voice small. “I would’ve thought you talked to someone about it before… you know. I thought maybe Jeno, at least. Or Chenle. But it was all news to them too. And I know you can’t keep all those thoughts to yourself so who'd you talk to?”
“Just Johnny,” Mark admitted.
Donghyuck frowned. “Why?”
“Because he understands what it means to make huge career moves,” Mark answered, then after a while, he added, “and because he doesn’t know you much.”
“So?”
Mark laughed lowly, partly in amusement but mostly out of self-pity. “He can’t tell me what a big idiot I am for letting you go,” he muttered. “All our friends would.”
Donghyuck rolled his eyes but he could feel the pressure building behind it. “Well, you kind of really are.”
Mark only hummed, still laughing.
“Hey,” Donghyuck said after making sure he could keep his voice steady. “Jokes aside, I really hope you’re chasing your dreams well. That’s the point of it, right?”
“Right,” Mark agreed with a click of his tongue.
“Good, so you’re not really a big idiot,” Donghyuck concluded, “Maybe just a tiny little one.”
“Okay, I can take that.” Mark chuckled.
“Great.” Donghyuck nodded. “I have to go.”
Mark’s smile seeped through his voice. “See you around?”
Donghyuck found himself grinning too. “See you around, Mel.”