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Bus 5280 is late again. To be fair, though, Mark is pretty sure every bus in existence is perpetually late. Like the world is running too fast for the metal and rubber to ever be where it’s supposed to be, even though the bus is the one that’s supposed to be the thing that keeps the world running. Somewhat, at least. Mark shimmies down deeper into his seat at the bus stop, feeling the cold brand of winter chilled metal seep through his clothes.
Renjun would know what vague philosophy his mind is referencing subconsciously. Renjun pretty much knows everything. Mark sighs, fiddling with the frayed ends of the beanie his friend had knitted him. Who even knows how to knit anymore? Apparently Huang Renjun. Jisung too, but only after he got personal lessons from Renjun himself. Mark huffs a breath out at the memory of the hours and hours the two of them put into constructing the biggest possible blanket to fit all seven of them under. Jisung had blushed red to his collarbones when Mark had told him how proud he was. It’s one of his favorite memories he likes to tuck back into every now and then.
The bus should’ve been here ten minutes ago. In all honesty Mark’s not too upset. Sure, he’s looking forward to joining his favorite people at the last stop of their bus route, but it just gives him more time to nibble on the hard candy that Donghyuck is always stealing from him. The other boy is fast with his hands and even faster with a snarky retort when Mark whines at him for it. His teeth hurt from the way he chewed the sweets between them; absentmindedly lost in thought about the way Donghyuck’s sticky fingers feel against his own. Mark can hear Chenle’s laugh echoing in his ears, bright and unashamed, just like the boy himself.
Mark knows what to expect every time the six of them fall out of the bus in an impatient crowd. Chenle will for sure be draped over Jeno, leeching the body heat that comes off of his muscles in waves the rest of them can’t recreate. Jeno will be smiling, arms resting under Chenle’s thighs to keep him held up, and he’ll ask Mark how his day at work was without fail. Jaemin will have his hand linked with Jisung’s, who will deny that he enjoys it but never actually pushes Jaemin away. He’ll use his remaining hand to pull Mark up and throw the arm around his shoulders in a messy semblance of a hug and ask some random question that someone, probably Renjun, had argued with him about.
He’ll look over at Jisung, who will shrug unhelpfully and keep his hand held in Jaemin’s. Renjun and Donghyuck are always last, usually bickering good naturedly, and always the first to start walking down the sidewalk. Donghyuck will plant a wet, sloppy kiss to Mark’s cheek first, of course, and Renjun will roll his eyes and offer Mark a small secret smile; one that says “Isn’t he so ridiculous? We should keep him forever.”
Mark trails along the back of the group. He’s chronically happy to be a voyeur to the domestic serenity they’ve established in their routine. Jeno and Jaemin picked up at the stop from their shifts at their clinics, Jisung from the library where he studies for his masters, Renjun by the high school he teaches art, Donghyuck from the dance studio he gives lessons at, and Chenle from the stop by the zoo he’s interning at.
Mark is the only one that went into the practical yet soul sucking field of business, but it’s okay with him as long as he’s able to fund the quaint life they’ve carved out for themselves. And he is. Currently he makes the most money out of all of them, but he knows that Jaemin and Jeno plan to spoil him when the benefits of their dental and physical therapy degrees outweigh the cons. Jisung too, once he’s able to get his masters in child psychology out into the world. It’s unnecessary, though, when he’s spoiled enough with how often they throw open happy smiles his way.
“Excuse me,” a voice breaks through Mark’s memories. A young girl stands by the bench, eyes running over Mark nervously with her phone open in her hand, “is this the stop for the 7pm 4514 bus?”
“Ah, I’m afraid this is for the 5280 bus.” Mark’s lips twist in an apologetic smile. The girl’s mouth drops slightly in a silent oh. Mark remembers what it was like to be new to the routes here once upon a time, so he watches her ruefully as her brows scrunch and she mutters a confused thank you back to him before walking off.
It’s dark now and Mark blows air from his mouth to imagine it’s a dragon’s smoke. Jisung is always happy to give deep exhales into the winter air for the same reason, even with the resulting teasing from Chenle, but Mark secretly finds the sight a bit wonderful as well.
“It’s nice to imagine something you know isn’t real, hyung,” He hears Jisung whisper next to him, “I think maybe people would be happier if they just dropped real life for a minute. I mean, the fun isn’t in believing it’s true, it’s in reality and fantasy meeting in little ways. Like when you were a kid and you played as a Prince. You knew you weren’t really a prince, but that didn’t make it any less wonderful to suspend yourself in.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“I learned from the best.” The Jisung in his head replies shyly.
“Would you two hurry up?” Donghyuck calls from up ahead, “Some of us have important things to do!”
“Stepping on leaves and kicking rocks at Renjun’s feet doesn’t count as important, Hyuck.”
“I hate to tell you, Jaemin, but neither does sucking the skin off of Chenle’s nec—“
“Okay! I’m separating you two until we get home.”
“Awwwwww c’mon Jeno hyung, I was hoping they’d start swatting at each other again. They look like cats!”
“Chenle.”
“You know you wanna agree, Renjun hyung. You want to soooo bad.”
“What I want is to get home with Mark.”
“And me?”
“Well yes of course you too, Jisungie. It’s not really home without all of us now is it.”
“No,” Mark agrees quietly to himself, “it’s not home at all.” His hand slides against the dry skin on Jisung’s as he guides them up to meet the others. Donghyuck’s head rests on Jaemin’s shoulder, Jeno’s hand rests at the nape of Chenle’s neck, and Renjun meets them before they stop walking.
“Come on. It’s time to go home, yeah?”
“No I swear on my life he said bus 5280- yes! The one that, like, fell off into the river sixty years ago! I don’t know, mom, he’s just some old guy sitting on the memorial bench. I don't even think he knows what day it is much less where he’s a— oh my god.”
Mark doesn’t react to the girl's approach or to her warm fingers pressing into his neck. He’s smiling, has been practically the whole time he’s been sitting here, waiting to go home with the people he loves.
The bus pulls up just short of the bus stop; held back by the small cluster of red and blue lights gathered around the town’s Bus 5280 Memorial Plaque bench. Mark is still smiling as the zipper closes over him. Jisung’s hand is still dry and warm in his, and Donghyuck is trying to steal candy with Chenle in his peripheral. Jeno and Jaemin each have an arm draped over Renjun’s smaller form between them. They walk ahead, just far enough to give the four in the back leg room to step, and argue over whose turn it is to cook tonight.
“Hyung,” Renjun’s head turns so one eye can look back at him, “is it mine or Jaemin’s turn tonight?”
Mark laughs, even though it’s not funny at all, “How about I cook tonight, Renjunnie? Feels like forever since it’s been my turn.”
“For good reason, hyung!”
“Donghyuck have some tact. He just got here.”
“It’s okay,” Mark hums into the darkness as they leave the flashing lights behind them, “I’m just happy to be home.”