Archive of Our Own ^beta

In retrospect, Mark might have seen it coming.

He never thought about it, really, how often his mom asked him about Donghyuck. Donghyuck was pretty much the only person from high school that he still kept in touch with, however infrequently over the past couple of years, and therefore, the only one of his friends that his mom really knew, so it made sense that she asked about him. She asked about him whenever they talked. She asked about him earlier this week, over Thanksgiving dinner, even though Mark hadn’t even spoken to him since the last time she’d asked about him.

Yeah, now that he thinks about it, his mom really asks about Donghyuck a lot.

When Johnny and his fiancé, Ten, were leaving after dinner on Thanksgiving to head back to their apartment downtown, Ten pulled out a couple of freshly-printed save-the-dates from his bag and handed them to their mom in a flourish. She literally cried out of happiness, probably due to the feeling of overwhelming relief that someone else would now officially be responsible for Johnny, if Mark had to guess. She hugged Johnny, who reacted as he did to all forms of familial affection, with a reluctant grumble and a roll of his eyes. When he turned to Mark, he gave him a sideways smile and a lazy, two-fingered salute. Mark just made a shooing motion with his hand, and Johnny barked out a laugh, closing the door behind him.

After they left, his mom turned around and said to Mark, through teary eyes, “Make sure Donghyuck knows the official date!”

Now, Mark is crouching frozen in that same doorway three days later, his backpack hanging off of his right shoulder. He was in the middle of tying his shoes, an old pair of black vans that he’s been meaning to replace for the past year, when his mom’s hand waved in front his face, dangling one of the save-the-dates.

“Make sure to take Donghyuck back with you when you go looking at suits with Johnny, okay? It’s been so long since we’ve seen him anyway,” she said, stopping Mark in his tracks.

Mark, the absolute idiot that he is, thought, when his mom told him to tell Donghyuck about the wedding, that well, Donghyuck and was pretty close with their family; that’s probably why she wanted him to know. But now, he is sensing that there is something else that he’s missing, and he’s afraid he knows what it is.

“Why would I bring Donghyuck with me to look at suits?” he asks slowly, carefully.

“Well, he’ll need one too, won’t he? Obviously, if Johnny and Ten would rather you match with the other groomsmen, that’s up to them, but it would be cute if you two matched, don’t you think? We can get him a suit either way; I know it’s hard to buy these sorts of things when you’re a student.”

“Donghyuck and I—we aren’t—” Mark cuts himself off. He doesn’t even know how to say this. Is this even what his mom is implying or is he reading too much into it?

His mom’s face suddenly drops. A deep, shocked sadness overtakes her features, and she looks devastated. “Did you two break up?” she asks.

“What?! No, we—”

“Oh, thank god, you really scared me for a second there,” his mom says with a hand splayed on her chest as if to calm the beating of her heart. “I know that you’ve been quiet about your relationship with Donghyuck all these years, but you know that your father and I support you in everything you do, right? However, I have to say, we’re quite attached to Donghyuck at this point, and I’d be a little mad at you if you broke his heart.”

Mark is speechless. “Uh, right,” he says, wracking his brain for any kind of response because what?

While Mark is still looking for the words to explain to his mom that he and Donghyuck did not break up because there is literally nothing to break up, his mom wishes him a safe trip home. Before he’s had time to process what just happened, he’s standing outside of his parents’ house, the door closed behind him.

Mark thinks about all the times his parents have requested Donghyuck’s presence at their dinner table, and then he thinks about the time that he realized Donghyuck had been getting dinner with his parents every month without him when Mark was away his freshman year of college and Donghyuck was still in high school.

Mark thinks about, perhaps his most mortifying moment, the time that his mom just casually slipped into conversation that she was okay with him liking boys right in front Donghyuck while he was over at their house. When his mom was out of earshot, Donghyuck started laughing so hard he actually fell off of the couch in tears. Mark hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for days, even after Donghyuck finally stopped laughing long enough to say, “Markie, it’s okay. I like boys, too.”

Yeah, in hindsight, Mark could’ve figured out that his parents thought he was dating Donghyuck, but he didn’t. He is, after all, definitely not dating Donghyuck. The last time they even spoke was probably August, exchanging text congratulations over Mark’s birthday. Oh god, he’s going to have to tell Donghyuck about this, isn’t he? A sense of dread slowly drips through him, seeping from his head down to his untied shoes.

Well, it’s time to text Donghyuck Lee.

-

Donghyuck Lee, in all his messy-haired, bleary-eyed glory, sips on his soy caramel macchiato across from Mark in the slightly-less-crowded Starbucks on campus at 8 in the morning. He’s sitting cross-legged in his chair, and the word “Illinois,” emblazoned in orange, is twisted into illegibility down the side of his sweatpants. It’s a blistery Saturday in December, and the sun is letting in just enough light through the west-facing windows to make the inside of the coffee shop seem dark in comparison. Mark’s still kind of amazed that he got Donghyuck to get up early enough to meet him at 8 on a Saturday, but aside from sending a couple of emojis expressing his distaste at the hour, he agreed easily with an, “only if you buy me a venti.”

Donghyuck peels at the label of the venti that Mark so graciously bought for him, and he manages to look sort of regal while he does it. Mark reminisces that Donghyuck has always had that protagonist kind of energy, like everyone else is just a side character in his story.

“So, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck says, turning his eyes toward him curiously when Mark lets the silence go on for too long, “what’s up?”

As much as Donghyuck has never been one for beating around the bush, Mark, after all these years, has never been able to deny Donghyuck anything he asked for, even when he didn’t particularly want to give it. “My brother Johnny’s getting married,” he begins.

“Oh yeah, I saw the pictures on Instagram. That’s great. Congratulations, Johnny,” Donghyuck says.

“The save-the-dates just went out. The wedding’s this summer, June 17^th.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says warily, drawing out the vowel so it’s phrased like a question. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mark holds onto it for a little bit longer.

“My mom told me to tell you. She thinks you’re my plus one.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows at that. “Am I your plus one?”

Mark takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing! “She may or may not be under the impression that you and I have been dating since high school.”

Donghyuck’s face goes completely lax in shock, and the silence that stretches between them while Donghyuck processes his words is nothing short of agonizing. Mark takes those few seconds to regret all of the choices he’s ever made in his entire life that could have possibly led up to this moment. Mark has just gotten to regretting letting Donghyuck come out to dinner with his parents after their winter choir concert his sophomore year of high school when, finally, Donghyuck breaks out into a pained laugh.

“Of course. Of course, she thinks we’re dating. Why wouldn’t she?” His tone is almost defeated. Donghyuck runs a hand through his hair, and Mark is struck, not for the first time, by how grown-up he looks now. “How did she take it when you told her we’re not?” 

Mark groans and puts his head in his hands. “Okay before you yell at me, I tried to tell her, I really did. You should have seen her face when I said we weren’t dating. She thought that, like, we broke up after, I don’t know, five years or something? The last time I saw her so heartbroken was when the Hawks lost to the Kings in 2014. I couldn’t do it, Donghyuck; I really couldn’t do it.”

This silence is, if possible, even more excruciating than the last. Mark can barely make eye contact with Donghyuck, who’s face would be hilarious if Mark felt like laughing. “So, let me get this straight,” Donghyuck says slowly, “your mom has been under the impression that we’ve been dating for the last, oh, five or so years; you, given the chance to correct her, did not; and now, you are inviting me to attend your brother’s wedding as your plus one under the guise that we have been dating each other since high school.”

Well, when he puts it that way… “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Mark hazards a glance at Donghyuck. Donghyuck looks like he’s trying to make several different facial expressions at once and they all meshed together, contorting his face into a grimace. He sighs. “June 17^th, you said?”

“Yeah, June 17^th.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar.”

-

In Mark’s sophomore year of high school, his schedule had been set up in an almost comically unlucky way, such that he had exactly zero classes with any of his friends. Choir was the only class he had with any remotely familiar faces, but even the kid he was standing next to was new. He was a freshman named Donghyuck, and possibly able to smell the desperation for friendship that was wafting off of Mark in waves, he immediately struck up a conversation. Mark liked to joke that Donghyuck started talking and just never stopped; Donghyuck liked to joke that Mark was lucky Donghyuck bothered to talk to him at all. Mark usually rolled his eyes and held his tongue to keep from agreeing with him.

They were inseparable for the next three years.

Mark had never really had what he would have considered a best friend before, but Donghyuck was undeniably his best friend in every sense of the word. They both had other friends, to be sure, but Mark and Donghyuck stuck together like the back door of Mark’s grandparents’ house in South Korea when the humidity spiked overnight on the hottest day in summer. Mark still remembers, as clearly as if it were yesterday, the sound of Donghyuck screeching his name in the hallway in front of the auditorium so loudly that he could hear it from the library where he waited for Donghyuck’s musical rehearsals to let out so he could drive them home. This was a daily occurrence during musical season, and the librarian, who hated Mark with a vengeance, always gave Mark the nastiest look while he sprinted out of the library. He never stopped to apologize since he’d learned from experience that, if he kept Donghyuck waiting too long, he would start screaming again, and it took a lot longer to get him to stop the second time. As it was, Mark usually had to get him to start laughing until he was too out of breath to keep screaming. He cycled through a few different methods throughout high school, but his senior year, the winning one was to yell back whatever first came to mind in broken Korean. His dismal grammar usually did the trick.

Yeah, when Mark thinks about high school, he thinks about Donghyuck.

During Mark’s freshman year of college, Donghyuck’s senior year of high school, they remained close, texting almost every day. In fact, they kept in such close contact that they might have been even better friends, somehow, than they were in high school. Though Mark made friends more easily in college, especially after rushing Theta Nu, it was always Donghyuck who he texted in between classes or played games with online well into the night, trying to muffle his giggling so as to not wake his roommate. He drove back up to the suburbs a lot that year to bask in nostalgia and the light that always seemed to emanate from Donghyuck when he laughed so hard that his face scrunched up with the effort of it.

When Donghyuck started at the very same university, the one that half their high school went to, one year later, Mark showed him around a bit at first. But Donghyuck had always been a kid with a personality a bit like a supernova: bright, loud, and mesmerizing. He made friends effortlessly, and soon had a whole clique of kids in his class to run around with. Between Mark’s fraternity brothers and Donghyuck’s college musical theater schedule, their friendship faded into the background. Even so, Mark still thinks of Donghyuck as one of his closest friends. They still text occasionally, and Mark always makes sure to attend the opening night of all of Donghyuck’s shows, but it has really been a long time since they’d last talked for more than a few minutes.

Getting coffee with Donghyuck was really nice, Mark thinks. He thinks that, probably, they should do it again.

-

Mark

[image]

oh, here’s a pic of the save the date in case you need it idk

Donghyuck

Wait this wedding is in florida??? You didn’t tell me it was a destination wedding

Mark

Oh haha yeah idk johnny is basically doing whatever ten wants so

Ten is johnnys fiancé

Donghyuck

Youre not going to make your boyfriend of 5+ years pay for his own plane ticket are you??

Fr I don’t think I can afford it…

Mark

Omg no ill figure something out youll probably have to fly down with us anyway for like the rehearsal dinner and whatever else happens for weddings I don’t really know

My mom basically likes you more than me so it shouldn’t be hard to convince her to get you a ticket and everything

She already talked about buying you a suit anyway

Shes so happy that im like “sharing” my “feelings” by finally talking to her about our “relationship” hah

You won’t have to pay for anything honest im so sorry I even put you in this position if youre uncomfortable you really don’t have to go

Donghyuck

And break mama lee’s heart?? No way now that I know theres a free trip to florida involved u couldn’t fake break up w me if you tried

Baby 😉

Mark

Jesus christ what have I done

-

“Yo, your brother’s wedding is in Florida? What’s a bro got to do to get an invite to an open bar on the beach around here?” Jungwoo calls out from the kitchen of their apartment, eyeing the save-the-date that Mark had stuck to the fridge with a magnet in the shape of an ear of corn that he had inexplicably been given during freshman orientation three years ago. Typical University of Illinois stuff, really.

“Sorry, bro,” Mark says from where he’s supine on the couch that came with their apartment, scrolling though jobs on Indeed on his laptop. He has a job interview on Thursday, but he’s learned the hard way that an interview is not a job, and the hunt is everlasting until you have a signed offer letter in your hands. “The guest list is finalized, and Donghyuck is already my plus one.”

“Donghyuck?” Jungwoo pops his head through the doorway to the living room to give Mark a considering look. His hair is done up, which is a bit suspicious for a Monday night. Is there a Theta Nu event tonight? Mark’s graduating in less than a month, so he’s not really keeping track of the frat schedule like he used to. “Isn’t that the guy that Jaehyun was hooking up with last year?”

Mark’s face falls into a grimace. “Jesus, don’t remind me.”

Mark remembers it, unfortunately, extremely clearly even without any reminding. During one Theta Nu party Mark’s junior year, he walked into the sad, mostly nonfunctional kitchen of the frat house hoping to score a can of literally anything other than Keystone Light and walked in on Donghyuck pressing Jaehyun Jung up against the counter, Jaehyun’s hands threading through Donghyuck’s hair.

“Donghyuck?” He had called out against his better judgement, which was screaming at him to walk away and pretend he was never there.

Donghyuck and Jaehyun sprung apart. Jaehyun, drunk and oblivious to the absolute mortification dawning on Hyuck’s face, smiled widely. “Mark! Hey! You two know each other?” Jaehyun’s hands migrated from Donghyuck’s hair to Donghyuck’s hips. Mark forcefully pulled his eyes away from where they’d followed Jaehyun’s hands and made himself look back up at their faces.

“We’ve met,” Donghyuck said in a tone so dark it made Mark break out into a sweat. Mark made up whatever excuse he could think of and fled the room faster than Jaehyun had time to respond. The shock of that moment still plays out behind his eyes whenever he goes into the Theta Nu kitchen.

Mark had seen Donghyuck at every Theta Nu party for a few weeks after that, parked at the beer pong table with a hand on his hip, holding Jungwoo’s legs during a keg stand, sitting in Jaehyun’s lap. Then, one week he wasn’t there anymore. Mark didn’t ask, and he hasn’t seen Donghyuck at a Theta Nu party since. Not that he’s been looking.

“Are you wining and dining your own pledge dad’s ex-hookup?” Jungwoo asks, flopping down onto the couch directly onto Mark’s legs. Mark yells, kicking at him, but Jungwoo doesn’t budge. “Isn’t that against bro code?”

“Dude, no! We went to high school together. If anything, Jaehyun went against bro code by hooking up with him, or whatever it was they were doing. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you’re taking him to Florida and not me.”

Man, how to even attempt to explain it? “My mom asked me to bring him,” He tries to say casually. “It’s not like I’m seeing anyone, so I just asked him.”

Jungwoo gives Mark a calculating look. “But what if you start seeing someone between now and then?”

Mark can’t explain to Jungwoo how sure he is that he won’t. If he hasn’t noticed that Mark doesn’t really…date by now, then he probably never will. The last time he made any effort in that department was freshman year of college. Mina Kang had been very impressed with Mark at first. Mark really can’t help it; he’s always been kind of an all or nothing kind of person when he likes someone, chocolates, flowers, the works. He just thinks that it’s worth it, and Mina thought so, too, at least for the first couple of months. But after the initial glow faded, she decided that there wasn’t much there. It kind of made him wish that he didn’t always come on so strong, that maybe if he hadn’t distracted her with the serenading and the good morning texts and the surprise dates, she would’ve figured out that she didn’t actually like him much earlier.

There isn’t anyone he likes right now, and he’s graduating in three weeks, so unless he both gets a job and happens to meet someone at it in the next six months that he is really, really into, enough to take to his brother’s wedding, he’s not worried about it. It’ll be nice to catch up with Donghyuck, anyway, and he’ll probably have more fun with him than he would trying to keep Jungwoo from drinking the open bar dry.

“I’m graduating early, remember? I don’t think I’ll meet someone on the train into the city. That is, assuming I ever get a job.”

At that, Jungwoo’s face falls. “No, don’t leave me!” He exclaims. Mark only barely manages to save his computer as Jungwoo lunges for him, burying his face into Mark’s neck.

“Jungwoo, bro, you’re choking me,” Mark tries, but Jungwoo only clings tighter as he wails about Mark’s ultimate betrayal, wedding forgotten.

-

“Oh, Donghyuck, hey! Wait up!”

Donghyuck, tucked into a black, puffy coat that goes down to his knees, turns around at the sound of Mark’s voice from where Mark spotted him walking several yards ahead of him on campus. He scans the quad for a second before he sees Mark, and his face breaks into a small smile. He waves back. Snowflakes swirl around and deposit in his hair, which is the same chestnut brown that he’s had it dyed to since at least last year. Mark had always meant to ask about that, but he’d never remembered to do it.

With the most picturesque part of campus in frame behind Donghyuck, statue and everything, it looks a bit like a scene from a movie, maybe like the end of Star Wars, when Luke and Han get medals from Leia, grinning up at her after saving a galaxy far, far away. Except, no, that can’t be right because that was the ending, and this looks like a beginning. Also, if memory serves, they were inside, and not outside. Maybe he should watch more movies.

“Hey, Mark.”

“Oh, this is the Mark Lee?” a voice to the right of Donghyuck chimes in just as Mark’s jogged up to reach him. Mark looks at the two people with Donghyuck that he didn’t notice before, and they’re both giving him odd looks. Was it weird for him to run all the way across the quad like that? God, he hopes not. Mark recognizes the one that spoke as one of Donghyuck’s friends, Jaemin, from Donghyuck’s Instagram. He’s wearing a smile that is, frankly, a little terrifying, and Mark wonders what it is exactly that Donghyuck has told his friends about him.

“Uh, yes hello!” Mark tries to say it brightly, because the other friend Donghyuck is with is Renjun, and Mark remembers him only because he spent the entirety of his sophomore year trying to figure out why Donghyuck’s new friend Renjun didn’t like him. He never did figure it out, and the distasteful look that he fixes Mark with now tells him that he wasn’t just imaging it back then.

“Mark, this is Jaemin, and you remember Renjun?”

“Of course, how’s it going, dude?” Mark tries, but Renjun’s facial expression doesn’t warm up. If anything, it gets even icier.

“It’s going fine, dude,” Renjun says, and Mark just knows that he’s going to spend the next three days overanalyzing the downturn of his mouth, the distaste in his voice.

“Ah, I was just going to say that Johnny and Ten are going suit shopping over break, or well break for you, graduation for me, ha ha,” Mark says, trying to pretend that Renjun isn’t looking at him like he’s planning his untimely demise. “I’m going with them—best man duties and everything—and you’re invited to tag along, too. My mom already said that she’d pay for your suit and everything, so.”

“Ooh, who’s getting married?” Jaemin asks with interest, still fixing Mark with an expression that falls somewhere ambiguously between joyous and evil.

“Um, my brother is.”

“And Hyuck is going with you to your brother’s wedding.” Renjun says it like a statement and not a question. He turns his dirty look onto Donghyuck instead of Mark, and Mark wonders if maybe that’s just always what his face looks like.

“Yes, that’s right. Listen, we have to go to class, but just text me, okay? Bye, Mark!” Donghyuck says a little hurriedly over his shoulder, ushering his friends away.

Mark nods in affirmation, but Donghyuck has already turned around, a small flurry of snowflakes spinning around in his wake. Mark stands in the middle of the sidewalk and watches for a minute as Donghyuck and his friends push at each other. Snow falls gingerly around them, and he lets himself feel wistful, wondering how, even after all these years, he still feels like, between the two of them, Donghyuck is the main character, and he’s just the sidekick.

-

Donghyuck

Yo mark Im down to hang over break and look at suits only thing is my parents are selling the house so I don’t exactly have a place to stay out in the burbs rn

Mark

Oh hmm 

I’m sure you could stay over for a few days if you needed too!!

Not like Johnny will be using his room anyway lol

Donghyuck

Okay cool just lmk when and ill drive up

Mark

Are you spending break on campus?

What are you doing for Christmas????

Donghyuck

Not sure what im doing for Christmas haha its complicated

Congrats btw I didn’t realize you were graduating early

Mark

If you want to spend Christmas with us you definitely can!!

I mean I have to ask my parents first but you know they love you

Donghyuck

Haha okay ill think about it

Thank you

-

Mark used to joke, before Johnny finally got his act together, that he couldn’t possibly fuck up as much as Johnny, even if he tried. It was a joke, but also, it wasn’t. Their parents never spent a lot of time worrying about Mark when they had Johnny to worry about. Johnny, who used to break curfew a couple times a week to smoke with his friends at the skate park around the corner from their high school. Johnny, whose grades were never that good despite his stupidly high standardized test scores. Johnny, who in his first few years of undergrad came home with more than a couple citations for underage drinking. Johnny, whose four years in college expanded to 5, then 5 and a half, seemingly only for lack of trying. His whole life had been Johnny this, Johnny that, constantly running damage control for whatever stupid shit Johnny had gotten himself into while Mark just did his best to blend into the background. All Mark had to do was keep his head down, and, in the eyes of their parents, he was golden.

Mark has been keeping his head down for years.

Now, with Donghyuck sitting next to him at the dinner table in his childhood home on Christmas Eve, he’s grappling with the feeling of being under the spotlight for the first time in a long time. Johnny’s spending Christmas Eve with Ten’s family, so it’s just him and Donghyuck and what his parents think is their long-term relationship. The attention makes him feel itchy, like he’s done something wrong.

He always figured that his parents had no time to bother with worrying about who he was dating because they trusted him to do his own thing, too busy worrying over date after date that Johnny brought home. He never realized that his parents never asked meet who he was dating because they thought they’d already met him.

Mark cautions a look at Donghyuck, who’s busy engaging his parents in pleasant conversation over their faded green tablecloth like he’s done it a thousand times, which he has. Donghyuck is wearing a dark, navy sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of Mark’s old khakis. He’s leaning back in his chair with one elbow hooked around the back of Mark’s, and he looks like he could be modeling for a magazine cover shoot. Donghyuck looks casually, comfortably, completely at home, betraying none of the anxiousness that Mark feels, that he’s sure is running off of him, pooling at his feet.

Donghyuck has been over for dinner more times than Mark could possibly count, but Mark has never brought home anyone he’s dated, and even though his parents might have thought that he’s been doing that for years, Mark can’t help but feel the pressure. He’s anxious about his parents’ scrutiny now that Johnny’s gone and figured out his adult life. He’s anxious that his parents will find out that he and Donghyuck aren’t actually dating. He’s anxious that Donghyuck is, somewhere deep down inside, uncomfortable with the whole situation they’ve gotten themselves into. He’s anxious that he’s starting his new job in a couple of weeks, and he doesn’t know where to go or what to do or how to act.

He’s just anxious.

While Donghyuck chats up his parents, Mark stews in his anxiety. He spends most of dinner like that, until his parents get up and begin clearing the table, insisting that Mark and Donghyuck sit and enjoy themselves despite Donghyuck’s protests. When Donghyuck turns to look at Mark, his face turns from laughing to incredulous as he reads the expression written all over Mark’s face. Donghyuck had always been able to read Mark better than Mark wished he could.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Donghyuck says. “Mark, we’re literally not dating; what could you possibly be nervous about?”

It’s a little too much to explain, that he’d never felt like his family paid that much attention to him, that he’d spent so many years trying to not be noticed that now, having his parents turn all the weight of their affection onto him feels confusing and a little claustrophobic.

“It’s a lot of attention, I guess,” Mark settles on.

Donghyuck considers him for a second before he says, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be the center of attention, and you can just stand still, look pretty.” He says it with a teasing lilt to his voice and the corners of his mouth turned up like he’s trying to keep them down but failing. It’s so very Donghyuck that Mark can’t help but laugh.

“Got it.” He makes a mock-salute with his first two fingers. “Stand still, look pretty.”

If there’s one thing that Donghyuck has always been, it’s the center of his attention.

-

Mark doesn’t know Ten all that well. They’ve only met a handful of times, and all the times they did, Mark got the distinct impression that Johnny had told him that Mark was just his snot-nosed little brother and not to pay too much attention to him. But Johnny and Ten decided to get suits separately, and now he’s at a fancy store downtown right in the middle of the Mag Mile with just Ten and Donghyuck while Johnny is out with their mom looking at flower arrangements somewhere in Gold Coast.

It’s…interesting.

Ten has a bright, chaotic kind of personality that Mark had definitely not experienced the full force of whenever they’d met before. He talks a mile a minute, and flirts aggressively with Mark once he realizes that it flusters him. Mark has only been shopping with Ten for about 20 minutes, but he’s already had to talk him out of ditching suit shopping to get mimosas twice and out of shoplifting three times.

He can see why Johnny likes him.

Ten and Donghyuck, of course, get along like moths to a flame, connected by a shared joy in trying to make Mark as embarrassed as possible. Mark feels a bit out of his depth next to them, like he’s worn sweatpants to a party and only found out it was a black-tie affair when he got there, even if Donghyuck is the one who’s wearing his orange U of I sweatpants and one of Mark’s tshirts. He had originally put on one of Mark’s old high school track shirts, but Mark had taken one look at him and told him to find a different one, instead. “The green clashes with the orange, dude,” he’d said, and Donghyuck sighed.

“Why does everything clash with orange?” Donghyuck asked with the desperate air of a man who knew it was a question he would never know the answer to. Mark just laughed and found him a suitable replacement, a black White Sox shirt that was safe, even when paired with orange.

Ten, however, is clearly not concerned about clashing colors, considering he’s currently wearing a bright pink silk suit that he snagged from the racks earlier with a delighted noise before Mark could stop him. Paired with a black tuxedo shirt and bowtie, it’s quite the look. Honestly, it does look good on him, but the bubblegum pink is a lot, even for someone as effervescent as Ten, who could probably pull it off in any setting other than his own wedding.

Ten turns around in the corner of the fitting rooms where several full-length mirrors have been placed at angles to allow for full body viewing and does a little twirl, striking a pose. “Donghyuck, what do you think?” he asks, probably already sensing Mark’s resigned disapproval.

Donghyuck considers him for a second. “It’s really nice, and it fits well in the shoulders. The lapels are a little skinny, though. I feel like the cut should be more traditional for a wedding, unless that’s the look you’re going for.”

Ten blinks, and Mark belatedly realizes what he’s missing. Ten asks, “Okay, but what about the color?” before Mark can interject.

Donghyuck’s face scrunches up a bit. “It seems a little light, I guess? I don’t know what kind of vibe you’re going for or if it matches the other wedding stuff.”

Mark can’t help it, he snorts out a laugh, hiding his face behind his hand.

At that, Ten looks a little put out. “Okay, but the pink, Donghyuck. How do you feel about the pink?”

“Oh, well, I’m colorblind, so,” Donghyuck shrugs, slightly disconcerted. Mark’s laugher bursts out from behind his hand, and he turns to hide behind Donghyuck as he collapses into giggles.

“But I’m sure it’s great!” Donghyuck continues as horror dawns on Ten’s face. “I’ve always heard good things about pink.” He similes wryly, laughing a bit at himself.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Ten says, and Mark just laughs harder, bracing his hands on his knees to keep from falling over.

“You’re good, you’re good. It’s not, like, something I identify as or anything. It’s more like a minor inconvenience. Mark, would you shut up.”

It takes almost 10 minutes for Mark to stop laughing.

After he narrows it down to a couple of suits, not including the pink one, thankfully, Ten buys them lunch in the food court of the mall, which just so happens to be the weirdest food court Mark has ever seen. All of the ordering is done on kiosks, and it takes him about five minutes to figure out how to order just a drink when he goes back up to it after realizing he forgot one. When he finally succeeds and makes his way to the table that Ten and Donghyuck have claimed, they’re deep in conversation. The tables are set up somewhat haphazardly in the atrium of the mall, and the one they’re sitting at is exactly in the middle, underneath a rather impressive chandelier. Donghyuck looks up and catches his eye. He gives him a wink, and Mark stomach drops a little, which is new. Before he has time to analyze that, Ten waves him over, loudly, and Mark is reminded eerily of when Donghyuck would do the same thing in their high school cafeteria.

Maybe he shouldn’t let Ten and Donghyuck spend any more time together.  

“So, Johnny tells me that you’ve been dating since high school,” Ten says when Mark sits down with his hard-won Diet Coke.

Mark winces. His entire family had “known” that he and Donghyuck had been “dating,” so he hadn’t anticipated much interrogation into the details of their “relationship.” He didn’t anticipate that he’d really be spending any time with Ten or that Ten would even be interested in the nuts and bolts of their pretend relationship.

“Uh, something like that,” Mark says because he is an idiot.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes at him. Then, he gets that look in his eyes that Mark has come to associate with trouble. Oh no. “I was Tony in our high school’s production of West Side Story my sophomore year,” he says. “Mark cried when I died on opening night and then asked me out backstage.”

Mark blinks. “I, uh—” Mark had cried, but didn’t think that Donghyuck knew that.

Ten positively coos at them. “Oh my god, that’s adorable! And you’ve been together ever since? I’ve never met real high school sweethearts before!”

“And we’ve been together ever since,” Donghyuck confirms. To Ten, it probably looks like he’s smiling at Mark lovingly, but Mark has been on the receiving end of that smile a million times before, and he knows that he has to try to redirect this conversation before Donghyuck comes up with something so unforgivably embarrassing that he’ll never live it down.

“What else did Johnny tell you about me?” Mark says, pushing Donghyuck away from where he’d started leaning in towards him with gleeful eyes.

“Not much. That you’re his brother and that you’re cool.”

Mark wrinkles his nose, ignoring Donghyuck giggling beside him. Coming from Johnny, that sounds about right.

“He did tell me that you got a job downtown. And so early in the year, too! That’s awesome; the rest of your senior year is going to be so chill.”

“Oh, I, uh, graduated a semester early, actually. I start in two weeks.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” Ten says, and he sounds like he actually means it. “He didn’t mention that. What’s your job?”

Mark’s job is a copy-editing position at a small magazine whose target audience is people who work in the farm equipment manufacturing industry. It’s called Modern Agriculture. Mark has never seen a page of it, and he knows absolutely nothing about farm equipment manufacturing. He’s hoping that a “fake it ‘til you make it" attitude will pull a lot of weight his first couple of weeks.

“I’m going to be a copy editor at an industry magazine downtown,” he says, forgoing attempting to explain how on earth he got a job writing about farm equipment when the closest he’s ever gotten to a farm is driving past them on 57 on the way to and from college. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark nervously glances at Donghyuck, who has been inching closer and closer to him as he’s been talking. Donghyuck, at this point, is practically in Mark’s lap.

When Mark stops talking, Donghyuck squeals, “My Markipoo, all graduated and grown up!” and reaches over to pinch Mark’s cheek between his fingers. Ten laughs out loud and Mark sighs.

“That’s me,” he says with resignation, “all grown up.”

-

Mark had said, when he invited Donghyuck to spend his winter break over at his house, that Johnny’s room would be free. However, since they were going along with his parents’ assumption that they have been boyfriends for the last five years, give or take, Mark’s mom insisted that she was fine with them sharing a room. Before Mark could protest, Donghyuck readily agreed, and then smacked him after she left them to their devices, complaining that he was trying to blow their cover. Donghyuck had flopped onto his childhood bed and made himself at home there, and when Mark tried to tell him he’d take the floor, Donghyuck had only rolled his eyes and patted the space next to him.

Mark’s bed is where Donghyuck is currently splayed out spread-eagle, eyes closed. All of his clothes are tossed on the floor in the general direction of his suitcase in an aborted attempt at packing, where they’ve been for the past couple days. He keeps insisting that he’s leaving tomorrow to drive back down to campus, but he’s been saying that for days, only to have Mark’s mom protest that they should spend as much time together as they can, since their fake relationship was about to become a long-distance fake relationship. Mark couldn’t help but mourn; now that Donghyuck has wormed his way back into his life like he never left, he’s going back to campus and Mark is staying here, an ironic reversal of Mark’s first year away at college. Mark wonders if this is how Donghyuck felt back then, like he was being left behind.

“My parents are getting divorced,” Donghyuck says with his eyes still closed. breaking the long stretch of silence that had settled between them. “That’s why they’re selling the house.”

Mark’s head whips around, and before he knows it, he’s already sitting next to Donghyuck on his bed, reaching for him. “Donghyuck, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

Donghyuck laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “Well, it’s not like I told you. Don’t know how you would have known, otherwise.”

“I am sorry though. I wish I had known. I could’ve been there for you.”

Donghyuck lets out a soft noise and throws one of his arms over his eyes. “I know your whole family thinks we’re dating, but you’re not actually my boyfriend.” It’s not the first time that Donghyuck has reminded him that they’re not dating. Mark wonders why it stings a little every time he says it. “They were always a bit ‘stay together for the kids,’ anyway. Now that my sister’s moved out, no more kids, I guess.”

Mark takes that in for a second, racking his brain for the right thing to say. He settles on, “You’re allowed to feel sad about it, even if you knew it was going to happen.”

Donghyuck is silent for a beat. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he says, wetly. “I used to have dinner with your parents senior year of high school when you were off at college to try to feel what it was like to have a normal family. Probably didn’t help with the whole they-thought-we-were-dating situation.”

Mark’s heart breaks just a little. He lays down next to Donghyuck and opens his arms.

“Come here. This is a required cuddle. You’re not allowed to say no.”

Donghyuck sniffs and rolls over into Mark’s arms, burying his head in his chest. Mark lets himself run his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair like he used to do in high school when Donghyuck would lie down on the benches in the cafeteria with his head in Mark’s lap and complain about his physics homework. Life would be so much easier if all problems could be solved like that, but there’s no equation that can calculate the rate of the dissipation of your childhood, and there’s no Yahoo Answers post holding all of the solutions to the feelings you can’t work out on your own.

“I know my parents aren’t getting divorced, but it’s not like my family’s like, god, how do I say this? We’re not exactly close. I know you can kinda see it. Sometimes, I feel like everyone always talks about their siblings and their parents like they’re best friends, and I’ll never know what that’s like. I always feel like, when Johnny’s around, I’m literally invisible. I spend so much energy trying not to be noticeable because I don’t want to be right about them not even caring half as much about me as they do about him.

“I don’t even know if this is making you feel better at all. Please let me know if it’s not. I can shut up.”

Donghyuck lets out a little giggle, muffled by Mark’s shirt, and it’s the most wonderful sound Mark has ever heard. “It’s not, but keep talking, anyway. I still like hearing you talk after all this time, believe it or not.”

Mark talks about Johnny, and he talks about that time freshman year of high school when he missed the late bus and walked the three miles home from school because both his parents were still working and Johnny was who knows where. He talks about that one time they got lost driving back down from Milwaukee when they went to Summerfest the summer before Mark left for college and how they couldn't stop laughing every time they missed an exit, Donghyuck continuously misinterpreting Google Maps and Mark having no idea where they were despite 18 years spent in the northern Chicago suburbs. He talks about the snow, coming down in the few days after Christmas instead of before again this year and how many more years they’ll have to wait to see a white Christmas.

Mark keeps talking, and Donghyuck stays one more night.

-

Mark’s first day at his job goes like this: he arrives at a 40-something-story building on the outskirts of the Loop after walking 10 minutes from the train station in 14-degree weather with 20 mile-an-hour winds coming in from the lake whipping the side of his face. He’s never actually been into the office, having done his interviews over the phone, so when he walks into the building, he’s not even sure what floor he’s supposed to go to. He finally makes it to the right set of offices after wandering around the 27^th floor for 5 minutes, but the secretary at the front doesn’t arrive for another 30 minutes because he got there at 8:15 out of anxiety. He then loiters at what he’s told is his cubicle while he waits for his supervisor to arrive, trying and failing to log into his computer for 20 minutes. His supervisor arrives at 9:23 and introduces him to all 32 of the other employees. He spends the rest of the morning in the office of the IT guy troubleshooting his log on information before they give up and make him a new username altogether. He gets lunch with Taeyong, the only other employee at the magazine under the age of 30, and then spends the entire afternoon watching HR mandated sexual harassment and fire safety videos.

He’s exhausted, and he still knows absolutely nothing about farm equipment manufacturing.

On the train on the way home, which was so crowded that he had to stand for the first three stops out of the city, he texts Donghyuck. Donghyuck responds within 2 minutes, and a little bit of the exhaustion seeps out of his bones just at seeing his name pop up on the screen.

He starts texting Donghyuck again, like, a lot. It’s good. It feels like it did his freshman year of college where, though out on his own, he had someone back home to ground him. Except this time, he’s the one living with his parents, and Donghyuck is the one away at college. Mark has the errant notion that maybe Donghyuck will always be there to tether him to earth when he feels like he’s floating away. It’s a comforting thought.

Like now, for instance, the Friday of his first week. He’s just realized that he doesn’t have to wake up tomorrow to catch an 8am train. He doesn’t have to spend five minutes in the morning deciding how many times it’s acceptable to re-wear one pair of dress pants before he has to wash them. And, most relieving of all, he doesn’t have to pretend to care about farm equipment manufacturing for at least 48 hours. In fact, he doesn’t have to do anything at all until his alarm goes off on Monday morning.

It’s a little daunting.

Mark thinks that, as he checks his watch for the umpteenth time and officially reaches minute 13 of his 37-minute commute, it’s so daunting that he might actually lose his mind. He pulls out his phone and sees a message from Donghyuck. He smiles reflexively, and before he can talk himself out of it, he calls him.

The phone rings three and a half times before it clicks and a soft, “Hello?” filters through the speaker. Mark can feel the stress of the work week seeping out of his body just at the mere sound of Donghyuck’s voice. It sounds both a little bit like home and a little bit like something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Donghyuck, hey!”

“Hey, is something going on?”

“No,” Mark says, leaning his head against the window. “I’m just on the train.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says. And he doesn’t say anything else. Was it weird to just call him like this?

“Sorry, I didn’t think—you must be busy.”

“I’m not,” he says, and there’s the sound of some shuffling in the background. “I can talk.”

“It’s just, it’s weird,” Mark says, feeling his face twist into something that he’s glad Donghyuck can’t see. “When I get home it’s like...there’s nothing to do. Absolutely nothing. Not even anything I can procrastinate doing. I watched a drama on Netflix with my mom for 4 hours last night and still went to bed before midnight.”

Donghyuck snorts on the other end of the line. “Sounds nice, dude.”

“It is, but it’s also not? I don’t know how to describe it. I have no direction; I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with my time.”

“Well, actually, you do have something to do this weekend,” Donghyuck says with an upturn of his voice. This is news to Mark, who was planning on watching two more seasons of that drama, with or without his mom.

“I do?”

“Yeah, you have a facetime date with me, your loving boyfriend for the past 5 years, Saturday night at 7:30. It’s a pretty big deal because you miss him so bad, so you’re probably gonna have to plan your whole weekend around it.”

Mark laughs loudly enough that half the train car turns and looks at him, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Oh, I do? I must have forgotten.”

“Mark Lee, are you serious? You’re not serious. We’ve been long distance for two weeks, and you’ve already forgotten about me completely? You’re breaking my heart, baby.”

Mark is laughing so hard he curls into himself in his seat. “Don’t say that! I’ll make it up to you,” he manages to choke out in between laughs.

“You better,” Donghyuck says, and Mark let’s himself get lost in the laughter Donghyuck always seems to draw out of him.

-

Mark

Oh I forgot to mention ten and johnny both officially picked out suits

Johnnys is just normal black and ten got the tan one idk if you remember

“perfect for a beach wedding”

Donghyuck

Lol he said that about every suit he tried on

Mark

At least its not the pink suit lol

Donghyuck

You know I still think of pink as the way you described it to me that one time in high school

“reds very girly but intimidating younger sister who could kill you 7 different ways with a ballpoint pen if you crossed her”

Or something like that haha

Mark

Omg did I say that 😭

Does that not perfectly describe ten tho

Donghyuck

Lmao it really does

It was my freshman year you made a rainbow diagram and everything

And orange was “yellow but if yellow was really thirsty and there wasn’t anything to drink except hot sauce”

Mark

Omg

That’s not right I need an update on orange

Orange is yellow but if yellow got drunk on everclear at a frat party and hooked up with their ex and had to do a walk of shame from the frat houses all the way to the other side of urbana at 5am

Donghyuck

So youre telling me orange is an std

Mark

…

Yes

Donghyuck

Never been more proud to go to u of i

Mark

Number one party school in America babyy

-

Mark has been working at Modern Agriculture for almost three months when he gets a text from Jaehyun Jung demanding to meet up for lunch. The text is accompanied by seven frowny faces expressing his distaste at not knowing that Mark had already graduated and started working in the city. Taeyong is absolutely distraught at the prospect of eating lunch without Mark since the next most tolerable person in the office is a 43-year-old woman named Stephanie, who is very nice but is currently going through a divorce and spends most of her lunch break crying in the bathroom, so he brings Taeyong along. They go to a burger place in West Loop that Mark can’t really afford, but Jaehyun offers to pay for them with his economic consultant salary. Mark knows about as much about economic consulting as he does about farm equipment manufacturing, which is still shockingly little, but he does know that it means Jaehyun can look at a $30 cheeseburger without balking.

The din in the restaurant drowns out most of Jaehyun and Taeyong’s conversation. Apparently, they are both very into designer fashion, which is unfortunate for Taeyong, since Mark knows for a fact that he cannot afford it. They get along swimmingly, and Mark tries not to feel guilty about eating a meal that is going to cost Jaehyun almost 1/10 of Mark’s paycheck.

“Who’s blowing up your phone, bro?” Jaehyun asks, peering over at Mark’s phone, which has been lighting up with text messages every minute or so. Mark meant to put it away, he really did, but sometimes he feels like if he doesn’t text Donghyuck back immediately, then Donghyuck will get the impression that Mark doesn’t want to text him. It is, for some reason, very important for Mark that Donghyuck knows that Mark wants to text him. He does want to text him; he really, really does.

“Oh, it’s just Donghyuck,” Mark says absentmindedly, scrolling through Donghyuck’s stream of conscious description of Renjun’s latest art project, which is apparently a kind of modern, horror reimagination of Moomin. Renjun continues to be an enigmatic mystery, and Mark has given up on understanding him.

“Donghyuck Lee?” Jaehyun asks. Mark freezes mid-text.

“I, uh, yeah. I forgot you knew him.” Mark winces. “Knew,” is certainly one word for it.

“You guys finally worked your shit out?” Jaehyun asks, and he, for some reason, sounds excited about it. “That’s so great, bro! I’m so happy for you. Weird that you’re dating a guy I used to hook up with, but oddly, I’m okay with it.”

“You used to date Mark’s boyfriend? Mark, I thought you’d been dating him since high school,” Taeyong interjects. How does Taeyong know that he’s dating-not-dating Donghyuck? Did he tell him? Oh no, all the lines are getting so crossed.

“I—wait, worked what out?” Mark says, belatedly processing what Jaehyun had said.

“You guys had this, like, thing, right? He never told me, but I kinda thought that maybe you guys had dated before or something, just based on vibes.” Jaehyun shrugs. Vibes, what does that mean.

“Oh, um…” 

This is the part where Mark realizes that he does not have to lie. Jaehyun and Taeyong don’t know Johnny or Ten. They aren’t going to the wedding. They will never interact with his mom or anyone in his family, and if they know that Mark and Donghyuck aren’t actually dating, it really doesn’t matter. In fact, he could probably even tell them the whole truth, that they’re trapped in a comedy of errors and are pretending to date for dubious reasons. Mark does not have to lie to Jaehyun and Taeyong about dating Donghyuck, but he does it anyway.

“We, like, had this thing in high school, kind of hard to explain, ha ha. I actually hadn’t seen him in a while until you brought him to the house that one time. We reconnected right before I graduated, and it’s been good. It’s been really good.” Mark can’t stop himself from glancing back down at his phone, which just vibrated with another incoming text. It’s a picture, presumably drawn by Renjun, of a kind of grotesque looking hippo, covered in blood, eating someone alive. Donghyuck’s accompanying text (“is this normal or should I be worried u think?”) makes him grin unconsciously.

“Wow, you never told me that you and Donghyuck had such a sordid history! I have to know everything. Coworker relationships must be built on trust, Mark!” Taeyong exclaims.

Mark spends the rest of lunch making up facts about his and Donghyuck’s fake relationship. The weird thing is that he doesn’t really have to lie about anything, just conveniently omit the fact that Donghyuck isn’t actually his boyfriend. This, Mark thinks, is probably why his parents thought they were dating. Mark tells them that seeing Jaehyun and Donghyuck together at that party was like a shock to his system and that Johnny’s wedding gave him the perfect excuse to finally get Donghyuck back into his life, and none of it’s a lie at all, not even a little bit. 

-

“Mark, that’s a 5-hour round trip you’d be doing twice in a weekend just so I can sit next to Johnny and Ten while they taste test cupcakes on Saturday afternoon for what, two hours? That’s literally insane.”

Mark can’t explain how, even though he knows objectively that it makes no sense, that neither of them have to be there while Johnny and Ten try out cake flavors from a bakery they aren’t even going to purchase a cake from since the wedding is in Florida and not in Chicago, he’s willing to do it anyway. He wants to, even. He doesn’t spend a lot of time analyzing why.

“I wouldn’t call it insane so much as an opportunity to eat free cake at the nicest bakery in the city,” he says, switching the call to speakerphone as he walks through the door to his parent’s house and begins taking off his boots. It’s April now, but it snowed this morning. He loves Chicago, but it's also kind of the worst.

Donghyuck sighs. “I know we’re all Midwestern here, but 10 hours of driving in one weekend is a lot.”

“Listen, how’s this sound,” Mark tries. “I’ll take Friday off, maybe drive down Thursday night. I can catch up with Jungwoo in the morning on Friday, and then we can head up in the afternoon. You can take the bus back to campus if you’re really so against me driving you, but I think it’ll be fun. What do you say?”

The line is silent for a moment. “Mark Lee, sometimes I really wish I could hate you,” Donghyuck says, finally.

“Why do you wish you could hate me?” Mark asks with faux offense, making an exaggerated frown before he remembers that Donghyuck can’t see him.

A breezy laugh drifts through the speaker of Mark’s phone. “Forget it. Yeah, okay, come pick me up. And if you’re good to me, I’ll even let you take me home,” Donghyuck says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Mark flushes in spite of himself. “Dude, don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not, we’ve been dating for, what was it, five years? We should decide on an anniversary, by the way. If we make it in the next couple of months, maybe we can get your parents to pay for us to go out somewhere nice, like in West Loop.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“But you love me.”

Mark’s stomach flips up into his chest. He does his best to tamp it back down. “That I do, Donghyuckie, that I do.”

-

Mark picks up the bouquet he ordered from the flower shop next to the student union 30 minutes before Donghyuck’s show starts. He forgot that he ended up ordering a bouquet that cost more than $100 until the florist rings him up, but Mark can’t really bring himself to regret it, not when the roses in it are, as the florist gushes, “going to open up so beautifully in the next couple of days.”

Mark thanks her and makes his way to the union, where Donghyuck's show is running somewhere on the second floor. Being back on campus is an odd feeling. The first time he came back after graduating, he felt relief, like he was finally back home after playing at having a job for a couple of weeks. Now, he feels the opposite, like he’s masquerading as a college student, and it’s only a matter of time before someone figures out that he doesn’t go here anymore. He feels weirdly out of place, like he’s trespassing on his own property.

Mark is absurdly early for the show. He knows that Donghyuck’s friends are coming, too, but he doesn’t actually have any of their numbers to meet up with them, so he just picks a lone seat in the front row when he gets to the stage. That’s what he did for the last handful of Donghyuck’s shows, anyway.

The show, Next to Normal, is one he’s never heard of, even in all his years of knowing Donghyuck and his obsession with musical theater. He has absolutely no idea what it’s about because Donghyuck insisted that he not look it up because of “spoilers.” All he knows about it is the stars in Donghyuck’s eyes whenever he talked about his role. He sung a few lines for Mark over the phone over the past few weeks, but Mark couldn’t say what they were, only having paid attention to the sound of Donghyuck’s voice.

Mark cries, just like he did during West Side Story. From how close he is to the stage, Donghyuck picks him out of the crowd during the bows at the end and laughs at Mark’s red, puffy eyes.

He finds Donghyuck backstage after the show, wiping off his makeup. His hair is damp with sweat, and his mic is still taped to the side of his face. He looks a little bit like he did in a dream Mark once had where Donghyuck was performing a one man show in their high school auditorium. In the dream, Donghyuck fell through a trap door that opened up beneath him, and Mark, suddenly on stage instead of in the crowd, was too slow to catch him. Mark crawled down into the bizarre dreamscape beneath the stage and spent the rest of the dream looking for him. In real life, the stage is not an auditorium but a makeshift one set up in a large room on the second floor of the student union. In real life, Donghyuck is easily found backstage, and he smiles at Mark when he catches sight of him. The smile melts into a fond roll of his eyes when he sees the flowers the Mark is not so subtly hiding behind his back. Donghyuck crosses the room to take the bouquet from Mark and cradles it against his chest.

“Wow, you haven’t brought flowers to one of my shows since Cinderella,” Donghyuck comments, rubbing a pink rose petal between his fingers.

“I thought I told you, after West Side Story, that you weren’t allowed to play any more characters that died,” Mark says to stop himself from doing something really crazy, something like saying, “Will you go out with me?”

Donghyuck laughs brightly at that. “Technically, I didn’t die; I was already dead the whole time.”

Mark frowns. “I still don’t like it.”

Donghyuck pouts, an exaggerated downward pull of his mouth. “But you liked the show, right?”

“You’re really leaning into the whole fake dating thing, huh,” a voice that Mark recognizes as Jaemin’s chimes in from behind them before Mark can avidly insist that yes, of course I liked the show, and you get better every year.

Mark turns around to see Donghyuck’s entire entourage behind them. Jaemin wriggles his eyebrows in their direction.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck says with a warning.

“I literally didn’t say anything!” Renjun says, but his eyes are saying a lot. Or, well, Mark assumes they are. Mark still hasn’t figured out how to decipher pretty much anything Renjun does, but Donghyuck clearly picks up on whatever his eyes are saying loud and clear.

“You were so good, Hyuck!” Jeno chimes in, effectively cutting off that conversation. Then the lot of them descend upon Donghyuck, drowning him in congratulations.

Mark can tell when his time is up and stands by as Donghyuck and his friends shove at each other. He’s just about to excuse himself when Jaemin catches sight of him attempting to sneak off out of the corner of his eye. “No, Mark, you’re not leaving, are you? You have to come out with us and celebrate Hyuckie’s show!” Jaemin insists and then Jeno insists, and then Donghyuck’s friends have descended onto him instead.

Laughing, Mark agrees, and Donghyuck’s friends shoo Donghyuck to go get changed so they can go to one of the two bars on the edge of campus that doesn’t card. Donghyuck makes a big noise about dropping all his things off at his apartment, but Jaemin waves him off, saying they can drop everything off at his place since it’s on the way. Mark tunes out the discussion of which bar is superior and watches Donghyuck disappear behind the room dividers set up for privacy. When he looks back over at Donghyuck’s friends, Jaemin is giving him that unsettling smile again.

In the time it took for the show to run, it started raining. This, they discover when they finally move to leave the union and are met with what can only be described as a deluge outside.

“Okay, new plan,” Jaemin declares after they spend a few seconds in silence staring out the doors of the union into the rain. “We’re going to my place instead. I have at least one bottle of Tequila and some Bud Light. Oh, and I have Malört.”

“Why the fuck do you have Malört?” Renjun makes a face of pure disgust. Mark has never liked Renjun more.

“For occasions just like this, Junnie!”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says eyeing the storm outside. There is not a lot to see, unfortunately, as the rain has reduced visibility to about 6 feet. “On three, we make a break for it.”

It’s raining so hard that the sound of it drowns out their shrieks of laughter as they sprint down Green street towards Jaemin’s apartment, which is “just a little bit further, honest!” Truthfully, it doesn’t really matter how far Jaemin’s apartment is, because Mark is already as wet as he could possibly ever imagine being. He was drenched instantly, rain pelting him from every angle the second they opened the door of the union.

As it turns out, there’s a liquor store on the way to Jaemin’s apartment, which Renjun demands they stop at since he would rather, “kill all of you and then myself before even looking at your Malört, Jaemin.” Jaemin takes Jeno and Renjun inside, while Mark and Donghyuck huddle under the awning in an attempt to at least have fewer completely sopping wet people make a nightmare for whoever has the unfortunate job of mopping the store later tonight.

Donghyuck shivers violently, and the bouquet that he’d been trying in vain to shield from the rain shivers with him, spraying water in all directions as it shakes. Mark almost puts his arm around him, but then he realizes that, with how sopping wet he is, it probably wouldn’t make Donghyuck any warmer.

“The show was amazing. You were amazing. You get better every time,” Mark says since he didn’t get to say it before. Water is dripping in rivulets from his hair into his eyes, but he can still see Donghyuck smile so widely that his eyes crinkle up in the corners. His hair is plastered to his face and the makeup that he didn’t manage to wipe off completely is smeared under his eyes, but he smiles with the radiance of a thousand suns. Mark’s heart tumbles over in his chest.

Mark thinks that flowers can’t possibly be enough, right? Donghyuck was so incredible, and one bouquet cannot say all the things that Mark doesn’t have the right words to say. Donghyuck’s parents can’t come down to see the show, so Mark should probably get tickets to see one of the other shows happening this weekend so that Donghyuck has someone in the crowd. He already got him flowers today, so he has to do something else tomorrow. What’s bigger than flowers? Should he post on social media? He’ll have to find an old picture of them to put on Instagram. That doesn’t seem big enough, though. Maybe he should—

Oh.

Well, that explains a lot, doesn’t it?

Donghyuck uselessly rings out his shirt onto the ground beneath them, laughing at the absurdity of the situation, and Mark thinks that he might be just a little bit in love with him.

-

On New Year’s Eve his freshman year of college, Mark counted down to midnight at Donghyuck’s old house. Donghyuck’s parents were both out on some couple’s holiday get away, so Donghyuck threw a party and got one of their friend’s older brothers to supply the beer for it.

(“I think they went on so many dates towards the end to try to save it,” Donghyuck had said, curled up into Mark on his bed three years later when Mark asked about it.)

Everyone else at the party stumbled home around 1 in the morning, but Mark’s parents insisted that, if he was going to drink, he should just stay over, and on the morning of New Year’s Day, Mark woke up on the floor to find Donghyuck missing from his own room. Mark had slept on the floor despite Donghyuck’s insistence that they could share his bed, somewhat out of consideration, but mostly because he’d been drunk and already laying down on the ground when Donghyuck had suggested sharing.

Mark made his way downstairs and found Donghyuck milling about, listlessly taking glittery streamers down from the living room, tucking odds and ends back into where they belonged.

“What are you doing up?” Mark asked. Mark, even back then, always woke up at 7, whether he wanted to or not. Donghyuck, on the other hand, would never wake up before noon if left to his own devices. Mark thinks about Donghyuck agreeing to meet him for coffee at 8am this past November and wonders if that’s something that he finally grew out of.

The Donghyuck in Mark’s memories is perhaps a bit more captivating than Donghyuck had actually been that morning, a bit prettier, a bit softer, maybe. He looked up at Mark from the center of the living room, and the memory plays out in Mark’s mind like a movie, maybe like in Spider-Man when Tobey Maguire hangs upside-down in an alleyway and Kirsten Dunst tells him, “You are amazing,” before she peels his masks down and kisses him in the rain. Mark tries not to think about why he made himself Kirsten Dunst in this particular hypothetical scenario.

“Just couldn’t sleep, really.” Donghyuck shrugged.

“That’s not like you.”

Donghyuck’s lips twisted up into a small smirk. “Maybe I’ve changed since you’ve been gone.”

Mark remembers being struck by that, like it hadn’t occurred to him that while he was away at college, life back home continued on without him. His brain was suddenly seized by the thought of being written out of Donghyuck’s story, and he had to fight the feeling clawing at his throat to say, “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Donghyuck’s smile turned a little sad for some reason. “Yeah, I guess some things never change.”

They stared at each other for a couple moments, the morning light from the window shining on Donghyuck's face as if it were a spotlight. Mark, a little hungover, couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“What should we make for breakfast?” Donghyuck asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t think I can make anything more impressive than cereal.”

Donghyuck laughed. Mark remembers it as a happy sound, welcome even in the shade of his growing headache. “What, you can’t even fry an egg?”

Mark could not, and to be frankly honest, he still can’t, really. He looked at Donghyuck abashedly, shrugging.

Donghyuck could not let that stand, and they spent the rest of the morning attempting to teach Mark how to make different types of eggs. He would probably do the same today if he learned that Mark still can’t fry an egg for the life of him.

He and Donghyuck laughed for hours as Mark failed to fry an egg, failed to scramble an egg, and failed to peel an egg, which he was at least able to boil successfully. Mark remembers laughing so hard after dropping his successfully boiled egg on the ground that he had to gasp to catch his breath, Donghyuck screaming laughing at him for ruining the one egg he’d managed to get right. They both laughed so hard, they cried, and Mark finally begged Donghyuck to give up, offering to pay for brunch if he would just let it go. On the way back from IHOP, Mark stopped at the grocery store and bought Donghyuck’s parents a dozen eggs to make up for his transgressions.

Mark thinks that Donghyuck would be disappointed, but not terribly surprised, if he learned that Mark still cannot fry an egg. Maybe he should ask his mom to teach him how, so he can surprise Donghyuck with a perfectly fried egg one day.

-

Mark

Happy birthday Donghyuck! 🥳🎉

I’m really happy that we reconnected this year. Graduating early and starting my job wouldn’t have been half as tolerable as it is without you back in my life

Wish I could be there to celebrate with you in person but I know that renjun et al are taking you out for your 21^st and that youre having a blast!!

ill see you in a few days when we fly out for the wedding happy birthday man

Donghyuck

Mark leeeeeeeeeee

Did you wait up until 12 just to text me

Youre so sweeeeet

Mark lee so sweet

So sweet my mark lee

Mark

Haha are you out right now

Donghyuck

Yes I just took my first legal shot w jeno

Legally I am have to tell you that we did not drink before then

But off the record Im drunk

Wish you were here :(

Mark

I wish I was there too im sorry I couldn’t get off work :(

Glad youre having fun

When you get back up to the suburbs I have a present for you haha

Donghyuck

You got me a present??

Maaaaaaarkk

What is it I want it now

Mark

Youll have to wait and see haha

Donghyuck

Boooooo

Ok I have togo renjun says im not allowed to text u anymore :(

Bye mark!!!

Mark

Goodnight Donghyuck

-

Mark has been considering his feelings for Donghyuck for the past few weeks. On one hand, they’ve been such good friends for so long that pursing him in a romantic way could backfire on him obscenely. Mark’s only just gotten Donghyuck back in his life in a meaningful way, and he really doesn’t want to do anything that could mess it up. On the other hand, he physically cannot stop himself from doing things for him. Things like holding the door open for him when he’s getting out of the cab at the airport. Things like insisting that he carries his luggage for him even though he also has his own luggage to carry. Things like buying him a chocolate chip muffin at the Starbucks in terminal 1 even though he said he didn’t want anything.

Donghyuck gives him a deeply suspicious look when Mark hands him the chocolate chip muffin, but he thankfully accepts it without any questions.

Donghyuck sleeps on the plane the entire way to Fort Myers, and Mark spends the entire time watching his face, lax with sleep. He’s beautiful, and Mark thinks he might burst with the affection expanding in his chest, pressing out against his ribs. Is this what it feels like to be in love? It has to be. Mark’s really going to have to figure out what to do about it because waiting for it to go away is definitely not working.

When they get to the hotel, which is the four-star resort on the beach that Johnny and Ten picked out for their wedding venue, they’re not there for more than two minutes when someone knocks on their door. Ten grins at them from the doorway of room 2346 when Mark opens the door. Johnny is behind him looking a lot ridiculous in a Hawaiian shirt that he definitely wasn’t wearing on the plane.

“Come explore the hotel with us!” Ten says, as if he hasn’t been here before for the explicit purpose of scoping out the place in their hunt for venues.

“Ah,” Mark says, glancing towards Johnny. Johnny doesn’t look put out at the prospect of spending the afternoon with Mark, which is refreshing. “Are you sure you guys want us to tag along?”

“Eh, I get to spend the rest of my life with this guy, so,” Ten shrugs. Behind him, Johnny laughs.

“Don’t sound so disappointed, babe.”

The resort that Johnny and Ten picked for their wedding is the kind of resort that’s big enough to have its own little shopping center inside it. They pass a jewelry store and a couple swimsuit stores on way to the main atrium, which has ceilings five stories high. Mark doesn’t think he’s even sneezed at a place this expensive in his life, and he realizes as he wonders where they got the money for this that he doesn’t actually know what Ten does for a living. Is it too late to ask?

After wandering through the main floor for ten minutes, peering into the resort’s theater, spa, and indoor pool, they discover what appears to be a game room. Donghyuck’s eyes light up when he spots the pool table, which is kind of unexpected, but Mark supposes that Donghyuck has always loved competition in any form. Now that he thinks about it, the Theta Nu house had a pool table, and Jaehyun played on it all the time. He can’t remember if he ever saw Donghyuck and Jaehyun playing together when they had their, uh, thing, but to be fair, Mark also tried very hard not to look at them whenever they were together.

“Mark, play me in pool!” Donghyuck says, already grabbing a cue from the rack.

“I’m not really good at pool,” Mark laments, suddenly cursing all the times he refused to play with Jaehyun when he’d asked.

“Johnny’s great at pool! He’d love to play!” Ten says, pushing Johnny in front of him towards the table. This is so obviously a lie that Mark can’t help but laugh at the expression on Johnny’s face.

“I mean, not particularly, but I’ll play a game,” Johnny says, rolling up his sleeves. And then Donghyuck’s racking up the balls, tossing the little blue chalk cube to Johnny as if Johnny actually knows what it’s for.

“How can you tell the stripes from the solids if you’re colorblind?” Ten asks curiously.

Donghyuck looks at Ten like he’s deeply disappointed in him. “The stripes are striped and the solids are solid.”

“Right, I’m an idiot, got it,” Ten laughs, embarrassed. Mark has to take a second to put his hands on his knees while he laughs to keep himself upright. Donghyuck shoots him a glare before turning to make the break shot.

Donghyuck breaks, and then Mark proceeds to watch the oddest game of pool he’s ever seen, not that he’s spent a lot of time watching pool. Donghyuck gets solids, and then spends the next couple of turns seemingly purposefully not aiming for any of the pockets. Johnny gets in a couple of balls, but he’s clearly not very practiced. Then, Donghyuck shoots a combo, the cue ball hitting the seven ball, which hits the four. The four rolls directly into a corner pocket and Donghyuck smirks, absolutely wickedly.

Donghyuck then “runs the table,” which he informs them is the term for pocketing all of ones remaining balls in one turn. Johnny is speechless. Mark feels growing in him a kind of stupefied awe. It’s probably stupid to feel this proud of his maybe-kind-of-fake boyfriend for beating his older brother in pool, but Mark swears he’s never been prouder of anyone in his life.

“I feel like I was just hustled,” Johnny says, when Donghyuck taps the eight ball into the corner pocket he called a moment before taking the shot. “You missed the last five turns!”

“If you were better at pool, you would’ve known that I was setting up my shots, not missing on purpose,” Donghyuck laughs. “It’s not hard to hustle someone who can’t even tell a good shot from a bad one.”

Johnny pulls an over-exaggerated faux-offended face, and Ten starts laughing so hard he has to lean over on the pool table to brace himself.

“That was amazing,” Ten says when he finally stops laughing. “Please teach me everything you know.”

Johnny and Mark sit down in a pair of large leather armchairs off in the corner while Donghyuck leans way over the pool table, instructing Ten how to line up a shot. The game room has several sets of poker chips, and Mark opens one of them, picking up a stack of chips and dropping them one by one onto the table in front of him.

“So,” Mark says, voice low, when Ten and Donghyuck are thoroughly engaged in their impromptu pool lesson, “I’m in kind of a crisis, and I need you to not make fun of me.”

“No promises,” Johnny says, which, okay, not like Mark expected any different.

Mark takes a deep breath. “I think I like Donghyuck. I mean, no, I definitely like Donghyuck. Like, a lot.”

Johnny turns to face him, giving him a look like he’s grown a second head. “I mean, yes? Haven’t you been dating for like, what? Four years? Five?”

Time to come clean. “Ah, here’s the thing: no. We’re not actually dating.”

Johnny then drops his attention from the pool table and turns to look at him fully, forehead wrinkled. “What?”

Mark shushes him, sending a harried glance over to Ten and Donghyuck, who are thankfully not paying them any attention. “We’re not dating. We’ve never dated. Mom just, like, thought that we were dating, and it was kind of too late to tell her we weren’t? We’re just, um, pretending.” There was probably a more elegant way to explain it, but that was just going to have to do.

Johnny takes that in for a second before he bursts into laughter. “Mark, you’ve gotta be shitting me. You only just realized that you’re in love with Donghyuck? I think everyone knew except for you.”

“I didn’t like him back in high school! I just, well, I don’t know. I like him now.” Did he like Donghyuck, even back then? His emotions are so mixed up now that it’s hard for him to separate out the past from the present, the real from the pretend.

Johnny snickers. “Mark, Donghyuck agreed to run around Florida and pretend to be dating you in front of our whole family.”

“…Yeah?”

“He likes you, too, you absolute moron.”

Mark freezes. In these past few weeks of wondering, consolidating his emotions, he never really seriously considered the idea that Donghyuck might actually like him, too. It seemed too absurd to even consider after so many years of friendship. He turns away from Johnny and focuses his full attention on Donghyuck.

Donghyuck’s talking Ten through a combo, pointing enthusiastically at different balls and which pockets to hit them into at which angles. He has that serious look on his face that he makes when he gets deeply competitive; Mark recognizes it from countless nights spent in his basement, turning even games like Harvest Moon in to a competition. Donghyuck looks up and makes eye contact with Mark. He smiles widely at him, and the look in his eyes is that excited look he only gets when he’s playing a game he knows for sure that he can win. Mark smiles back, and for once, let’s himself enjoy the twisting in his chest.

-

Donghyuck sings in the shower, which Mark knew, but there’s something about laying in his hotel bed, eyes closed, listening to the sound of Donghyuck belting out Children of Eden through the walls, that takes him to another planet. He’s incredible. Mark wishes he’d brought his guitar, so he could convince Donghyuck to sing more, just for him.

Donghyuck’s phone goes off in the bathroom and the water shuts off, along with Donghyuck’s rendition of Lost in the Wilderness, much to Mark’s dismay.

“Hello?” Donghyuck’s voice travels from the bathroom much more faintly now that he’s no longer lost in the wilderness. Mark wishes that he would go back to singing. He’ll have to convince him to sing again later, somehow.

“Yeah, the rehearsal dinner’s tonight. We were just at the beach. You should see this place, Junnie. I’ve never stayed at a resort before; it’s life changing. I gotta change my major, find out how to make enough money so I can spend the rest of my life at a spa on the beach.”

Mark snorts to himself. Unfortunately, between a copy editor and a future high school choir teacher, their theoretical combined income doesn’t exactly lend itself to the resort lifestyle. Not that they’re combining their income, or anything.

“I mean, aside from attending a wedding while my parents are in the middle of getting divorced? Yeah, I’m fine.”

Mark frowns. He didn’t even think about that. He forgot that divorces can take years to finalize. Donghyuck’s probably been upset about it this whole time, and he didn’t even notice. Mark vows to try extra hard to pay attention to Donghyuck tonight, to make sure that he’s not having a hard time.

“Renjun, I’ve been over that since, like, a month into freshman year, so get off my case. I’m hanging up on you, bye!”

Donghyuck emerges from the bathroom, and Mark tries to convincingly pretend that he wasn’t eavesdropping on his conversation while they put on their suits for the rehearsal dinner. Mark eyes Donghyuck carefully, looking for signs of sadness, but Donghyuck only gives him a weird look before telling him to “take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Mark takes out his phone to do just that, and gets a few excellent shots of Donghyuck laughing through ridiculous poses before they head down to the restaurant. He posts a couple of them to Instagram with the caption, “Chillin’ by the fire while we eatin' fondue” because he knows it’ll make Donghyuck laugh when he sees it later.

Even though it’s just the rehearsal dinner in the ridiculously expensive restaurant on the second floor of the resort, the wedding colors are draped everywhere, including over the fish tank in the center of the dining area that has one of those blue fish that Mark recognizes from Finding Nemo. There are flower arrangements, too. Mark doesn’t think that this is standard for a rehearsal dinner, but he’s also never been to one before, so maybe this is normal. Either way, it gives Mark the perfect excuse to take up one of his favorite pastimes from high school, which is describing colors to Donghyuck in the most ridiculous way possible.

“Okay, that banner to the right of the fish tank is kind of a blush-y mauve? Mauve is like pink but mixed with gray, I think? It’s a calming color. It reminds me of both, like, romance and old ladies.” Donghyuck lets out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, like a romantic old lady wearing just a little too much perfume because she’s about to go on the first hot date she’s had in years.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Donghyuck asks, eyes surveying the banners as if willing himself to grow the rods and cones he’s missing to see them like Mark does. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“Blue,” Mark says, easily.

“Why?”

“Because you can see blue, so I always know we’re seeing the same color when I see, like, pure blue.” In high school, he ended up slowly transforming his wardrobe until it contained almost only all blue and yellow after Donghyuck commented that he liked one of his blue t-shirts. Mark had been a little put upon when he realized that all of his green track t-shirts just looked brown to Donghyuck, and pulled them out of his regular rotation. He’d gotten into the habit of preferentially picking out blue things anytime he got to pick the color for anything, and he just never grew out of it. Blue is a good color, anyway.

Donghyuck’s face falls from an expression of mild curiosity to shock, and then delves into something that looks oddly like fear. Mark racks his brain for what he could have possibly said so wrong, and Donghyuck's expression falls further.

“I—I have to go to the bathroom.” Mark realizes belatedly that Donghyuck looks like he’s panicking, but before he can say anything, Donghyuck stands up and flees.

Mark is a little floored. He was doing so well trying to keep Donghyuck happy, but he clearly misstepped somewhere. He wants to give him some space if he really wants to be left alone, but the uneasiness in his chest only grows with time.

“Where’s Donghyuck?” Mark’s mom asks when he still hasn’t returned 15 minutes later.

Mark stands up. “In the bathroom. I’m going to go check on him.”

Donghyuck is not in the bathroom. He’s not in the restaurant at all, and after running through the lobby of the resort and up a flight of stairs, Mark discovers that he’s not in their hotel room, either. Mark tries not to panic. If he were Donghyuck, where would he go? Mark glances over at Donghyuck’s bed where the suit jacket he was just wearing at dinner is thrown across the duvet. His dress shoes are here, too, but his sandals are missing. Mark kicks off his dress shoes, and without bothering to change out of his suit, he runs just like that, in his suit and a pair of flip flops, down the hallway out to the beach.

-

Mark finds Donghyuck out on the dock, leaning back on his hands, legs swinging over the ocean. They’ve only been in Florida a few days, but the sun has turned his skin a hint of a shade darker, and even in the evening light, he still glows a little. Mark is struck, yet again, by the thought that Donghyuck looks like he was plucked straight out of a movie. Maybe like Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire when he bursts into Renee Zellweger’s house to say, “You had me at hello.” Except, Donghyuck is running away from him, not to him, like Mark wishes so desperately that he would.

The wind coming off from the ocean is so aggressive that if Mark wasn’t consciously keeping himself upright against it, he might have fallen over directly into the water. It’s so loud in his ears that he can barely hear himself call out to Donghyuck over the sound of it, but Donghyuck doesn’t respond anyway. He walks over and sits down next to Donghyuck, pushing his sunglasses down on his nose so he can look out into the sunset without going blind. Mark still doesn’t really know what’s going on in Donghyuck’s head, so he just lets the sunset wash over them. They sit in silence as the sun creeps down onto the horizon, painting the sky orange, pink, and purple. Mark wonders how it feels to watch the sky go from a bright, brilliant blue to a muddy brown and have everyone around you gush at how much prettier it is.

“I know you think I agreed to do this mostly of out of the goodness of my heart, but I have to come clean; I had an ulterior motive.” Donghyuck says over the howl of the wind when the sun has just touched the edge of the water. His hair is flipped up in comical disarray, whipping around his face every which way. It looks good on him, but so few things don’t.

“An ulterior motive for what?”

“I used to have a huge crush on you in high school,” Donghyuck says, almost ruefully. Mark is…actually speechless, so it’s a good thing that Donghyuck continues on, staring out over the water as if Mark isn’t even there. “It was actually kind of a bitch to get over. Like, even though I knew you didn’t like me, I liked you so much that it didn’t matter. As much as pretending to be your boyfriend sounded like torture, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to finally see what it was like even though I’ve been over it for years.” Mark can’t even begin to process the words coming out of Donghyuck’s mouth. His mind is static, absolutely devoid of all thought. “But, I mean, it’s been good for the most part. It’s like now my brain knows what it’s like to actually date you, and I can finally get closure.”

The light shines golden on Donghyuck’s face and Mark is suddenly paralyzed by the thought, don’t get over me.

“Donghyuck—” he starts, but before he can finish, Donghyuck stops him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says, a little bit desperately. “In fact, please don’t. I wasn’t ever going to tell you because you so obviously didn’t like me back, but here I am, breaking all of high school Donghyuck’s rules.” Donghyuck sighs. The sound of it disappears into the wind; Mark only picks up on it from the movement of his chest.

“How did you know I didn’t like you?”

Donghyuck laughs and finally looks over at Mark. He looks unspeakably fond, and Mark wants to bottle up the look on his face, the feeling in his chest, and keep it forever. “Mark, you gave Yerim that stupid singing promposal in the middle of the cafeteria even though you were just going as friends. If you had actually liked me, you would’ve, like, announced it in the middle of a basketball game or planned a flash mob, written it in the sky; you’re a little over the top like that.”

Mark can’t even deny it, considering that, in the last 30 seconds, about a million different ways to publicly declare his love for Donghyuck have flashed through his brain and both flash mob and sky writing were among the candidates. He also came up with hiking a mountain, writing a song, filming a video, a surprise party, etc.

“Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest,” Donghyuck says, turning his gaze back over the water, “I need you to pretend that this conversation never happened so I can keep from throwing myself into the ocean.”

Oh, absolutely not. This is information that Mark’s going to cherish in the bottom of his heart for the rest of his life. He’s never going to let go of the buzz he feels in his chest, the vibration thrumming through his body down to the tips of his fingers and toes at the thought of Donghyuck liking him, at the thought of Donghyuck liking him back.

The last blip of the sun finally dips beneath the end of the ocean, and the wind starts to lessen, as if it was waiting for the sun to set. Donghyuck’s posture is tense, like he really is a hairsbreadth away from jumping into the ocean. Mark wants nothing more than to tell Donghyuck that it’s not too late, that he doesn’t have to get over him, but the wedding is tomorrow. As much as he wants to risk it all, a small voice in the back of his head tells him that literally the only thing he could possibly do to make a big commotion at Johnny’s wedding would be to find a way to break up with his fake boyfriend of five or so years less than 24 hours before the ceremony. 

“I promise I’ll pretend this conversation never happened,” Mark says because he knows that’s what Donghyuck needs to hear.

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says, voice low, relief dripping from his shoulders.

“For tonight, at least,” he says, because he’s already breaking his promise, running through every memory he has with Donghyuck, thinking, when did you stop loving me?

Donghyuck lets out a snort of laughter. “Okay, that is very obviously not what I meant.”

Mark, for all the turmoil he can see underneath Donghyuck’s skin, smiles. He bumps their shoulders together. “Ask me to promise again tomorrow, and we’ll see what I say.”

Silence falls around them again. The wind has finally faded into a pleasant breeze, and the last tendrils of sunlight stretch out from beyond the horizon, illuminating Donghyuck’s profile. The ocean rolls beneath them towards the shore, and they sit there until the last bit of light fades from the sky.

-

The wedding is, of course, stunning. On the beach at sunset, Johnny and Ten say “I do,” with swaths of orange dancing on the horizon and swaths of mauve adorning the gazebo above them. The sun, melting into the ocean behind them, paints Ten’s tan suit a pretty golden yellow, and the tiny, dethorned rose that Johnny picked from his bouquet and tucked behind his ear is similarly made auburn by the evening light.

Mark, sweating through his suit, hands Johnny and Ten their rings and watches the light dance on Donghyuck’s face from the altar. Donghyuck catches his eye, and Mark forgets how to breathe. Donghyuck gives him a wink before he turns his attention back to Johnny and Ten, and Mark realizes that he’s missed Johnny’s vows. He plugs back into the ceremony, and then Johnny and Ten are kissing, and it’s over. They hold hands when they skip back up the aisle and everyone cheers.

Mark’s best man toast is solidly mediocre. He jokes about the time Johnny crashed their mom’s old Volvo sedan on the way to pick up a date when he was 16 the first time he’d ever driven alone after getting his license. It’s not that funny, but it makes Johnny laugh, which is the only thing he was really going for, anyway. He finishes by telling Ten that he knew he was the one for Johnny when he tried to shoplift that pink silk suit off of Michigan Ave, and Ten loudly complains that he could have gotten away with it if Mark weren’t so straightlaced. That, at least, makes the crowd laugh. Mark just raises his glass.

After everyone has been thoroughly toasted, Johnny turns to him and sighs, as if psyching himself up. His expression melts into a smile, twisted at the corner of his mouth. “You’re alright, kid,” he says as if it was difficult to say, bringing a hand to settle on Mark’s shoulder.

Mark snorts. “Wow, what a compliment. Thank you, I’ll keep that in my heart forever.”

“Literally shut up. I can’t believe you’re being so disrespectful on my wedding day of all days,” Johnny says through a smirk.

“I can’t believe you got anyone to agree to marry you.” 

Johnny sighs again, and a real smile blooms on his face. “Yeah, amazing, isn’t it?” He says, turning to look at Ten dopily. Ten grins back and kisses him, like he just couldn’t help himself.

Mark wants to be grossed out, he really does, but there’s something about weddings that takes normally unbearable PDA and turns it into something sweet. There’s something about weddings that takes normally hard edges and files them into something blunter, something softer. Mark leaves Johnny and Ten to their devices and turns his attention back to Donghyuck. Donghyuck whispers to him that he liked the chocolate cake they tried in Chicago better than the one that Johnny and Ten ultimately picked out, and Mark laughs, promising to bring him one from downtown when they're back home.

-

“What, you’re not even going to dance?”

Mark turns from where he’d been watching Ten tear up the dance floor with one of his cousins to see Donghyuck standing at the back of his chair. The first song that played after all of the standard wedding dances were squared away was ABC by The Jackson 5, and Donghyuck jumped out of his seat the second the first note rang out over the speakers. Now that it’s over, Donghyuck’s back, giving Mark a disappointed look, probably because he slighted 12-year-old Michael Jackson by not dancing, likely an unforgivable offense in Donghyuck's eyes.

“I’m eating my cake, dude!” Mark says in defense of himself, but he stands up anyway, letting Donghyuck pull him towards to dance floor. Johnny and Ten didn’t have any particular music requests except for a hard “no line dances” stance, so the wedding DJ is sticking to the standards, but they’re standards for a reason, he supposes. Mark dances with Donghyuck to September and Donghyuck twirls in the center of a circle Johnny’s college friends during Dancing Queen. Donghyuck is an excellent dancer, all those years of musical theater under his belt, and he knows exactly how to move his body to both look fluid and pull of maximal comedic timing. Mark had danced with him before, at his senior prom, but Donghyuck at 21 is so different from Donghyuck at 16 that he can’t even compare the two in his mind.  

After they dance a bit longer, a slow song comes on. Donghyuck smiles a bit ruefully and makes a move to step back towards their table, but Mark catches him by the waist before he can get too far.

“What,” he says, “you’re not even going to dance?”

Donghyuck lets out a small huff of air, but he lets Mark pull him in. He tentatively puts his hands on Mark’s shoulders, and that’s all the encouragement Mark needs to wrap his arms around him fully. They sway back and forth just like that, and Mark lets himself fall.

And Mark’s maybe a little bit too much of a romantic, but Donghyuck’s somehow ends up close enough to rest his face in to crook of Mark’s neck, and the song playing softly in the background sings about being in love, and he feels like, if there ever was a sign, this has got to be it.

“Don’t get over me,” he says softly into Donghyuck’s hair, heart pounding in his chest while the song fades into Uptown Funk.

“Mark—” Donghyuck moves back to look at him, but Mark cuts him off before he can finish.

“Don’t get over me,” he says again, over Bruno Mars, “and if you already did, like me again. Whatever it was that made you like me, I’ll do it again; I’ll do anything. I like you so much, Donghyuck. I really, really do.”

Donghyuck looks completely stunned, eyes flickering around Mark’s face as if trying to find a crack in his expression. Mark just gives him the most earnest look he possibly can. I like you, he says with his eyes, and Donghyuck finally gets the memo.

Donghyuck smiles disbelievingly, a little hesitantly. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth and just stares at Mark incredulously. Then, after a beat, his expression turns a little mischievous. Mark loves that look on his face; he could watch it all day. “I don’t know, Mark,” he says, a little breathlessly. “I've liked you for so long, and now you suddenly like me back, and that’s it? Where’s my writing in the sky? My singing promposal? I feel like I deserve to be wooed in true Mark Lee fashion.”

Now that, Mark can do.

“Wait right here!” Mark says before he sprints away, dress shoes slapping against the dance floor. He runs to the nearest table and steals a few mauve roses from the centerpiece, and one of Ten’s family members gives him a look like he’s completely lost his mind. Unfortunately, Mark is a man on a mission, and he doesn’t have time to worry about whether or not the Leechaiyapornkuls think he’s crazy.

He glances back toward Donghyuck, who’s looking back at him from the middle of the dance floor with a raised eyebrow. He’s clearly trying not to laugh, a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. Mark counts it as a win. He takes a second to smile back, letting the feeling of pure adrenaline, and what feels a little bit like love wash over him. Then, Mark’s eyes focus on the water behind Donghyuck, and he gets an idea. Oh, does he have an idea. He turns on his heel and takes the flight of stairs down from the balcony where the reception is being held to the beach two at a time.

Mark eyes the sand and picks out a spot a few yards out, looking back up at the balcony to gauge distance. Donghyuck’s leaning over the edge, watching him, and Mark decides that this’ll do. Probably six feet will be big enough to seen from the balcony, right? He begins dragging his foot through the sand, careful not to step on his own handiwork, and roughly carves out M♡D in letters six feet tall in the sand on the beach for anyone who happens to look this way to see. He’s had better ideas, for sure, but for an impromptu public declaration of love, this will have to do.

Mark looks back up to the balcony where the wedding is still playing on in the background, and Donghyuck is still hanging over the railing. He looks pleased.

“Oh, Romeo, Romeo,” he calls out, loudly enough for Mark to hear it, “wherefore art thou, Mark Lee?”

Mark laughs. He’s so happy that he’s shaking a little. “Sorry it’s not sky writing, but it’s the best I could do on short notice,” he yells back up to Donghyuck, no doubt drawing the attention of other wedding-goers. It’s hard to care. He wants everyone to know.

“You’re completely ridiculous!”

“Yeah, but you like me,” Mark calls out, and he’s smiling so hard he’s not sure how he can form any words at all.

Donghyuck’s smile slots into place, and Mark would do absolutely anything to see that smile every day for the rest of his life. He’s going to see that smile every day for the rest of his life if it kills him. “Yeah,” Donghyuck says, so softly that Mark can barely make it out from the beach. “I do.”

And that’s all that Mark needs. He sprints back up the stairs, and Donghyuck’s there to meet him at the top. Whether he’s out of breath from the stairs or from the look in Donghyuck’s eyes, who can say? He kisses him the instant he reaches the top step. Donghyuck winds his arms around him, and Mark let’s himself go boneless. Donghyuck’s lips move against his, and the sound of the wedding around them fades into silence. He’s never felt like this before; he feels like lightening is shooting though his veins. Donghyuck snakes a hand up his back to press between his shoulder blades, and Mark curls his fingers in Donghyuck’s hair like he’s been wanting to do so desperately since he saw Jaehyun do it in the Theta Nu kitchen last year.

They finally pull away, and Mark takes a second just to take him in. Then, the DJ starts playing Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough, and Donghyuck’s eyes light up. He’s dragging Mark back towards the dancefloor before Mark can get in a word edgewise, but that’s okay. They can talk later. For now, they can dance.

-

(“I can’t believe never getting over my unspeakably huge crush on you actually worked out for me,” Donghyuck says that night, curled into Mark’s chest. They decided to sleep in Mark’s bed, since Donghyuck left his towel on his after his shower, and the sheets were still damp, but the air conditioner is blowing directly at them in Mark's bed, and all the hairs on Mark's arms are standing on end.

“Having a crush on me didn’t stop you from making out with Jaehyun at every Theta Nu party junior year, though.”

Donghyuck snickers. “You’re really never going to let that one go, huh?”

“He was my pledge dad!”

“Pledge dad more like pledge dilf.”

“Dude, ew!” Mark screams, attempting to push Donghyuck off of him. Donghyuck just laughs, clinging to him for dear life.

“It’s too late, you can’t get rid of me now!” Donghyuck shrieks.

Good, Mark thinks, pulling Donghyuck back into his arms. Donghyuck settles against him like he was made to be there, and Mark thinks that maybe he was.)