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“Hyung, you know I love you, right?” Donghyuck whispers, mumbles even, into the creased up fabric of Mark’s shirt. “So, so much.”
That’s when Mark knows he fucked up. Whether intentionally or not, he fucked up by letting his thoughts wander off into the unknown, let his mind think if one day—in a different universe, maybe—this would be okay. This, as in getting to hold his best friend in his arms without any worries probing his mind, without anyone possibly judging him for having feelings so deep he’s scared of acknowledging them.
He lets himself think, as he looks down at Donghyuck’s droopy eyes, that in another universe this would be perfectly fine. He could let their limbs tangle together in a cuddle, warm skin against warm skin, his best friend softly breathing into his shirt and neck as they try their best to sit through another movie without falling asleep. Maybe, in another universe, Donghyuck would return his feelings, meaning something more when he says he loves Mark, making that particular life picture perfect.
Maybe, in another universe, Mark could press soft kisses to Donghyuck’s face. On his forehead, on his cheeks, on his little nose, on his chin, on his lips. Everywhere. Maybe Donghyuck would laugh, try to whine about it but secretly be asking for more. Maybe Mark could take him out on dates, bring him to his favourite cafes and restaurants, his favourite bubble tea stores. Donghyuck would be so happy, smiling as if he’s been gifted the world. Maybe he’d joke around, playing his appreciation off with his usual antics.
Maybe Mark wouldn’t be so scared of showing his feelings in that universe. Maybe Mark would call him cute every second of every day, caress his hair, hug him anytime he wants, pull him close. Maybe Mark would get to hear Donghyuck’s soft laughters he often lets out when they’re alone right in his ear. Maybe Mark would intertwine their fingers together in public, not care about the public judging them because in that universe, they’re just two kids who fell in love.
They wouldn’t be Mark and Haechan, they’d be Mark Lee and Lee Donghyuk. Two kids who fell in love, who are in love and who love each other. Maybe Mark would be worrying about their anniversary dates and college entrance exams, about getting a good job and doing good in school, about Donghyuck and about going to the same school as his best friend and lover.
Maybe, in that universe, he wouldn’t have to steal glances through practise mirrors to look at his best friend. He wouldn’t have to hold himself back from stealing a kiss on Donghyuck’s cute cheeks. He wouldn’t have to tell himself that it’s wrong to crush on another boy, that whether or not he himself knows it’s fine, the public would say otherwise.
He wouldn’t have to beat himself up over leaving his feelings ignored for so long that it manifested into something a lot more serious. He wouldn’t have to swallow his tears back down every single time he shames himself for harbouring such emotions.
Mark fucked up. And he knows it. He watches as his best friend falls asleep on him, leaving him to watch the rest of the movie alone as he waits for Netflix to fade off to its waiting screen, and then wait some more for the TV to automatically switch off after approximately 2 hours of no sign of life. He watches some more as his best friend lets out soft snores.
It hurts, because even when he’s snoring Mark couldn’t possibly find him anything but cute. It hurts all over. Where his legs are trapped under Donghyuck’s legs, where his arm is going numb under Donghyuck’s body, where his hips are forced to be stuck in the same position for hours. But does Mark choose to move and potentially wake Donghyuck up? No, of course not.
It all started after that Summer Fight™ with Donghyuck a few years ago. They fought hard, so hard that it was obvious even to the fans watching them. It was obvious to the managers who they tried to hide their hatred for each other from. At the back of his mind, Mark knew they’d be okay. They always fight, and they always make up in the end.
So when the making up happened, Mark had apologised, Donghyuck had apologised. His best friend had made a joke, Mark had laughed, and then he said;
“But really, I’m sorry.”
What he wanted to say after that was a sweet “I love you” because he really does love his best friend so much. They grew up together, they worked together, they took every step together. When the cringey but necessary proclamation of love hung loose at the tip of his tongue, Mark stopped himself because something in the way Donghyuck’s staring at him in the dim lighting made his heart skip a beat. That’s when it happened. That’s when it started.
Mark doesn’t say “I love you” in the end because he’s scared if he does, it’ll ruin his friendship, it’ll ruin his career, it’ll ruin his life. He swallows the confession back down, smiling wide as Donghyuck continues to stare up at him. They’re both around the same height but Donghyuck’s build is smaller, softer around the edges while Mark’s bonier.
“What?” Mark asks, hoping that the hesitation and fear weren’t obvious in his eyes.
“You know I love you, right?” Donghyuck murmurs as he ducks his head down to watch the way he picks on his own nails. “A lot. So much.”
Mark’s getting breathless, to the point where he wants to do something like cry. But the tears don’t come. His eyes are dry, but he’s overwhelmed with such sadness, such fear, such worry. Donghyuck looks so pitiful like this, getting mildly shy at saying such a simple thing he’s always said in confidence when the cameras are rolling. He wants to hug his best friend, so tightly, but he can’t and it overwhelms him.
He resorts to doing the one thing he’s confident won’t bare his true feelings to his best friend. He ruffles Donghyuck’s hair. Usually, it’s rougher, filled with a kind of frustration because Donghyuck is usually teasing him all day. This time, though, it’s softer, and when Mark stops tousling Donghyuck’s hair, he brushes the younger’s hair back too with his fingers.
His best friend doesn’t say anything, only stares up at Mark with an unreadable expression on his face.
In a different universe, maybe Mark would have swooped down and caught Donghyuck’s pretty lips in a kiss. But in this universe, now, Mark suppresses his brimming love as a small little crush he’d get over in a few weeks to a few months. He can only continue to comb Donghyuck’s hair in a manner gentle enough to be acceptable.
The crush progresses too fast for Mark’s liking. And he wasn’t even aware of it progressing. It started after The Fight, and since then they’ve been in less fights. Mark doesn’t know what changed or what didn’t, but it’s obvious enough where even Mark himself realised it.
Every time Donghyuck teases him too much on camera, once they’re back at the dorms and they have to separate, Donghyuck would follow him up. Mark would let him, trying to act casual about it or act like he’s mad when Donghyuck follows him into his room and drops onto his bed like a deadweight. Mark would stop and stare for a few seconds more after dropping his act, stare at the way Donghyuck’s eyelashes flutter in the wind, or the way his lips tilt into a small smile when he mocks a snore.
In a different universe, a different life, a different time, as a different them, Mark would slide into his bed and sidle up against Donghyuck. He would press Donghyuck close, feel the warmth seep through their clothing. He could trace the outlines of Donghyuck’s waist over his shirt, reveling in the warmth and the squirming coming from his best friend because he’s ticklish.
There’s that overwhelming feeling hitting Mark right in the guts. As fierce as he seems on screen, he’s two times softer off of it. And he’s weak. He’s weak to this emotion.
Damn it, he’s a Leo. And Leos fall hard.
“Hyuck, go home,” Mark grumbles.
“You’re my home,” Donghyuck mumbles dismissively, like there’s no more room for anyone—not even the President of the country—to say otherwise.
“Why did you cry at the graduation concert? You’d still see me in 127.” Mark lets out a sigh of relent, making his way to Donghyuck who’s already sitting up on the bed.
He leans against the headboard, eyes trailed on Mark who’s sitting on the side of the bed next to him. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything for half a minute or so, only darting his eyes between Mark’s expectant gaze and a loose thread on his jeans. His expression is solemn, an expression he rarely shows outside of practise rooms and recording studios.
“I’ll have to perform with the Dreamies without you.”
In a different universe, maybe they’d be talking about how scary the idea of going to different schools would be. They’d be like any other young couple going through regular angst before, during, and after High School. Mark would still be older, so he’d have already graduated, and Donghyuck would be scared of spending his last year without Mark.
Unfortunately, this is their normal.
“You still have 127, I’m still here.” Mark frowns, concerned.
“I know, I know. It’s just… At that time, I felt sad all of a sudden.” Donghyuck chuckles, trying his best to act nonchalant about this.
Mark knows best when Donghyuck is sad about something. This is his best friend he’s talking about. He knows his best friend like the back of his hand.
“In the future, whether or not we’re in the same unit, I’ll always be there for you.” Mark gives Donghyuck’s knee a solid, friendly pat strong enough to assure his best friend that his words ring true.
“So sappy.” Donghyuck scrunches his face into a forced grimace before breaking out into a cheeky grin. “I get it, I get it; you love me.”
“That’s not—” Mark tries to counter Donghyuck’s words, almost panicking before his best friend laughs his excuses away.
“I love you, too,” Donghyuck cuts in, grinning so wide like he usually does on camera.
Haechan. That’s when Mark truly thinks his name is self explanatory. Fullsun. Haechan shines bright like the Sun, on a bright afternoon where the Sun still reaches you even when you stand under the shade. But as his best friend lays back down on his bed and starts to ramble about his younger siblings, Mark thinks Donghyuck shines brighter than the Sun itself.
Mark will always be there for Donghyuck. Now, in the near future, in the future he cannot predict, whenever. He’ll always support Donghyuck’s every decision. Even if Donghyuck finds a girlfriend that could take care of him well, even if Donghyuck gets old and wants to marry that girlfriend, have kids, have a family—Mark will be there to support him. Even if Donghyuck wants to start a life without Mark in it, he’ll be there.
Even if Donghyuck says those three words—”I love you”—to his girlfriend and means it like how Mark would mean it if he said that to Donghyuck, he’ll still be there. Even if Mark would have to cry someday, the realisation that he can never get the life he wishes to live with Donghyuck as more than just a best friend hits him right in the heart, even then he would support his best friend.
He comforts himself, he consoles himself, by thinking of how it would be like in another universe. Maybe Mark Lee, who’s in love with Lee Donghyuk, is thinking of how it would be like to live a life without having Donghyuk’s embrace. Maybe NCT’s Mark is the parallel universe.
Mark brings himself comfort by thinking that somewhere, in a different universe, where he’s laying in an armful of Donghyuk, that that different universe is the main one. This universe he’s living in now where he can only ruffle Donghyuck’s hair as a closure is only a sad thought passing through Mark Lee’s mind.