Chapter Text
It shouldn't have been a surprise. Never should have, should've expected it otherwise. Because in terms of loving the person, who cannot love anyone of the same sex due to religious beliefs, Haechan had to endure and there comes a day which would hopefully, trance Haechan out of it.
Mark would never love a boy.
He understood, there's no way he wouldn't. But that also means, loving would result in pain.
Since his first encounter with Mark, he knew there was something in him, something that ignites only within him and only Haechan could feel. But he should've known better, he'd been too naive, too inlove, too young to understand that what he felt, couldn't ever be given.
Even then, his will wouldn't decrease. And he could say it was that, he lost control, he knew he didn't. He's too aware of what could be lost, what he could've sacrificed, he knew damn well. Still, if it means doing it once, it would've been worth the yelling he got.
He had kissed him, reasoned that he lost control, terrible reaction from Mark. Yes, the rejection did hurt, but it was soon forgotten, left in the abyss after a few months. And it's left as a memory, pushed in the very back of every witnesses memories. It'd been brought up at times, everyone knew by now just how deranged Haechan had been when it came to Mark, it's considered weird with Haechan not clinging to him, more used to the sight of him blocking everyones access to Mark to keep him to himself.
Sure, he'd been selfish when it came to the person he'd love. Maybe because he couldn't help what should've been an easy thing for anyone else to do, he just doesn't know how to function without Mark anywhere in sight.
He'd been pushed away, rejected, but he continued to strive. With little bits of hope that Mark, loves him. To the point he'd gaslight himself, to avoid the searing thought of the possibility that he may never have the chance to do the things he loves with Mark.
Still, it hurts, undoubtedly the worst when he's rejected. Mark tends to push him away, never to let Haechan near him, rarely when he'd do— it'd last no more than a couple of seconds and then the distraught expression is back. It hurts.
More than he'll ever admit, because his love is too strong to overcome. He doesn't think there comes a time where it'll disappear completely, deep down he knows, whether he'd move on or not— there'd still be particles of those love he had left lingering in his whole being.
"Donghyuck, go to your position." Ah, what nice reminder, couldn't it have been said any nicer? Or atleast an "Are you okay?" for looking a little too rough compared to how he usually looks?
But then again, it's Mark.
Defeated, he sighs, pulling himself up and towards where the rest of them stood, gaze heavily plastered on him as he makes his way forward.
Any other day, Haechan wouldn't be one to complain or even share the least bit of dissatisfaction.
Today was an exception. Not only was he absolutely exhausted— more than usual, Mark had been harder to deal with since promotions.
And it's not like he's to blame, continously going back and forth to 127's Walk, Dreams Rains in Heaven. Of course Mark would be on the terrible side, but then again, he isn't the only one trying to maintain theirself from going completely insane.
It's during the part where Haechan, oddly enough that he's worn out more than usual, he cannot bring himself to get a move right. Having to play the song over and over, the choreographer explaining to further enhance Haechans ability to think, helping with how its done, and he just can't. He can't do it no matter how much he tries, frustration building up. And he feels sorry for having been slowing the process down, he knows everyone wants to rest.
The music was put to a halt by none other than Mark, head in his palm and obviously trying to contain himself from saying anything unpleasant.
"What's wrong with you? We've gone over this more than what's needed that even an inexperienced dancer could pick it up with having to just play it twice," Mark sighs. "You need a breather? So do we."
And oh did that set Haechan off. It didn't help that Haechan has been under Marks skin since— forever, for the most part, but why did he seem so bothered?
"Hey— alright, let's give Donghyuck some time, he's— I don't think he's feeling too well," Their choreographer stuttered through the whole thing, attempting to lighten the situation, but oh Mark.
"Hyung, we all know he's being dramatic, having to go exage everything— but seriously? You're believing his obvious acts for what, to grant him his wish?"
"Mark, it's not that. Everyone's stressed, I understand, but taking it out on someone is... isn't right."
Haechan blatantly hears Mark scoff, no shame whatsoever even with their choreographer present.
"Asshole." Haechan mumbles, considerably toned enough that not anyone would've caught it, but Mark sure did with the irked expression he had plastered on his face the moment he turns around. Haechan didn't have it in him at the moment to even backtrack on what he'd said, hell he thinks Mark deserves to hear what he had to say.
"Oh I'm an asshole?" Mark huffs out a breath of annoyance as he slowly trails forward. "I'm an asshole, Donghyuck? Really?" His movements ceases immediately after standing upfront him, eyes narrowed and meant to intimidate. Haechan had received that one too many times, the effects slowly fading away, one Haechan had failed to overlook.
"And what if you really are just an asshole? An egocentric bastard, a perfectionist, an ignorant leader who thinks perfection is everything. Supposedly, you're meant to be leading the team but you're over here bitching at me for not having the choreo down at your pace." Haechan snorts, eyes leaving the older. "So I'm sorry if I'm not performing at my best, I'm sorry that I am sick, unbeknownst to me on how. Sorry that I needed a break to avoid collapsing."
"Alright, let's wrap it up today. Go home, get some rest, talk this out between you two. You can't keep this up, it'll affect the team otherwise."
It didn't take long before their choreographer left, leaving the seven of them with their manager who'd only just heard of the news.
"Hyung," Haechan calls for their manager, attention panned onto him. "I don't want to go back to the dorm." Haechan admits, his tone indicating of suggesting something else.
"Where do you want to go?" Their manager had taken a hint, since the moment Haechan had called. Nonetheless, he still asks. "I wanna sleep with Jaemin." He then turns to Jaemin, pleading with his eyes.
He knows Jaemin has no power to uphold when he'd been cornered with Haechans ability to plead, successful everytime.
No one argued against Haechans wish, in the end, he got what he wanted.
Although they aren't alone, Jenos pressed against his own bed at the other side of the room as Jaemin looks, intently.
"What's with the sudden outburst? Never thought you'd be one to anger Mark to that extent." Says Jaemin, waiting for an answer. Which, in lieu of the silence Haechan has given him, running short on his excuses, Jeno takes his chance.
"You like Mark, don't you?" Haechan chokes on his own saliva, struggling to steadily continue his breathing.
As soon as he does, with the help of Jaemins hands, one that could potentially break his spine. He shot Jeno a look, one flabbergasted enough that Jeno could chuckle to.
Another bastard.
Before he could even grasp the chance to reply, to deny it, Jaemin chimes in.
"Of course, everyone knows he does." Jaemin gazes at him. "Are you aware we know?"
Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes, to showcase he did not. Which, obviously, even to him, is not the case. "Why would I like him. It's not like he'd like men anyways." And he doesn't know if he was thinking, but it seems his answer gave away what shouldn't have to be.
"So if he were to like guys, you wouldn't be stuck, wallowing in self-pity watching your loved one go on about their day, vulnerable to what you're feeling."
"That's ridiculous Jaemin. I— where'd you even get the idea that I like him?"
Jaemin grins, one that makes Haechan uneasy.
"It's not like you were being slick, not at all. I guess I just... had a gut feeling." Haechan arcs an eyebrow, confusion filtering his expression.
"A gut feeling?" He asks, just then Jeno interrupts.
"A particularly strong one. It's been going around since we were trainees."
Jeno shifts his attention to his phone, whatever he had there must be important than to focus on what he had left off.
"You knew, all along?"
"With you rambling about how much you like Mark? Most people would've caught on." Haechan shrugs, garnering Jaemins attention.
"Are you planning on telling him?" Jaemin, the ever so kind and loving guy, Haechan would've been laughing at how idiotic the question is.
"And then ruin our friendship that I've spent nurturing alongside him for half the years I've spent in this world? No, obviously. Unless I was a dumbass. I like him, but in no world would I tell him."
"So your best bet is to suffer in agony."
That's when Jaemin took his cue to stand up, hovering towards the door.
"Tell him, Hyuck. Regardless of what his reply is gonna be. Atleast then you'd discard of that burden you've been carrying." And he disappears, door clicks shut.
Now left alone with a silent Jeno, too engrossed with whatever he was doing on his phone, he opts to just sleep.
That was his plan, not until Jenos phone had rang and was now conversing with someone on the other end. Haechan wouldn't have been bothered, only if it weren't for the mention of his name and has now come to terms it was Mark talking.
From the moment Jeno had, intentionally set it to speaker which he still doesn't know why, Mark had done nothing but ask questions, all which regarded Haechan.
"Is he sleeping?" He audibly hears Mark asking. Aware that Jeno is sure that Haechan isn't sleeping and instead listening, still, he puts on an act.
"Yeah, he's in deep slumber."
There was shuffling from the other end, only he could take an assumption that Mark was finding a position comfortable to his preference.
"Is he uh— was he okay? He didn't cry, did he?" It's almost comical the way he says it, so concerned it was almost bizarre. Nonetheless, he waits for Jeno.
"No. But then again, Hyuck tends to hold his pride, so don't expect him to cry."
Alright, understandable. Not really satisfactory, but it'll do.
"Oh." Oh? Was he disappointed, or perhaps, was he angry that Haechan wasn't able to crumble apart?
"What?" Jeno questions, as equivalently confused as Haechan could be.
"No its just— I could've swore he was, as close as he could possibly be to tears. I don't know, I think i was anxious..." a faint chuckle seeps through Jeno.
"That's no way for me to tell, I was behind Hyuck so I had no way of knowing." Pause. "Well it's late, we should go to sleep."
A subtle, direct way of ending the conversation as he'd heard Jeno end the call with a 'goodnight'.
"Wasn't that something, calling to check up on you... What'd you think Donghyuck?"
He groans, unimpressed and this time felt sleepy.
"Shut up." He manages, swiftly changing his position so that he's faced the wall.
"It's not like he would've, his guilt probably took over. Hence why he called in the first place." He hears Jeno hum in acknowledgement.
"Touché." A pause, save the sounds for small chatters out the room "But as Jaemin had said before, you should talk to him."
Not gaining any strength to retort, it's not like he had more to say. Having been cornered this much is incredulous, he'd been in awe at how good he'd kept it hidden just until tonight. Sue their annoyingly accurate gut and heavy observance. What did Haechan even do for the situation to escalate this much? Needless to say, he actually did need to sleep.
—☆—
Truthfully, last night was a merciful one. Falling asleep accordingly, had no dream and actually had a goodnights sleep. Although interrupted by; "Donghyuck, I know you'd love to sleep in but you have a schedule, you wouldn't wanna get nagged by manager-nim."
Simple enough to fulfill, Haechan just can't help but to side with the need to sleep.
He's shaken once, twice before he had finally gotten up, though hastily which resulted in a terrible headache that, fortunately, lasted just a few moments before it subsides.
He groans, glaring at the person who sent him, what Haechan would consider, a smile meant to piss him off. Especially at this hour.
"You have about half an hour till your phone is bombarded with the managers calls. Better start moving,"
"You're infuriating."
Jaemin shrugs, barely bothered. "Thanks, I've been told," Smug bastard, couldn't have been any better. Should he give him a broken nose? Perhaps a swollen cheeks?
Talking about Jaemin, there's no way he'd escape unscathed so he resorts to doing nothing. Still, the urge to badmouth him is done, annoyingly the younger held a grin all the while being openly badmouthed.
"Love how you pay so much attention, listing out my charms and whatnot." He pauses, then chuckles like the maniac he is.
"Were you always that observant?"
Was he? Of course he was, that's the only way he could know. The only way he'd known that Mark isn't prone to giving him the attention he so yearned for, hints that he may have taken an interest. A false hope, that he gave himself in hopes, a sliver of hope that he'd feel better. It did nothing, not in the slightest bit. If anything, it made the situation worse. Dwelling upon the truth was miserable.
"Sure. Depends whether you'd believe so, I'm pretty observant." Haechan remarks, aware and unbothered that time is ticking.
"I'm not doubting you, it's just something you'd prove time and time again. Remember when you were the only one that could recall the pattern shown for a show?"
"Yeah?" Haechan replies, tone giving away his confusion.
"Ridiculously fast, I mean, in a span of five seconds max, you were able to answer flawlessly."
Flattering, yet there is nothing to make sense of it. Where was he going with this? What's his motive? Also, he should get going instead of chattering away.
That decision would for sure, land him half- an-hour-lecture-drive-with-manager, apologize and go on about his day like nothing had ever happened. And it could happen, considering he's only got twenty minutes on the clock and actually needs to get out of bed.
"You're appreciated Jaemin, unfortunately I have to rush." He exclaims, rummaging through sets of clothes when he knows so damn well that he'd end up in sweatpants and a t-shirt at the end of the day.
"You'll miss his call?" Jaemin, just about as close to teasing him.
"In no mood, someday else would totally be fine." Haechan huffs, finally concluded that he'd (to no surprise) will show up to work in sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"Alright," Jaemin chuckles, heartfelt which is yet too rare to happen so Haechan wouldn't be against it, whether he'd be joking around.
"Take a few spoonfuls of food, something to fill you up. Wouldn't want to be on the other end hearing about you fainting."
He could laugh, at how absurd Jaemin had been with wordings, or atleast what he fears in, usually having been the one to encounter Haechans verges of fainting one too many times.
Jaemin, although very reserved, tends to be the most worried.
No matter how weird he becomes on the daily, it never had him rid of his concerns and worries.
"Did you cook?"
At that, Jaemins demeanor that was tense moments ago ceases, shifting to a much softened, relaxed one.
"Like I said I would," Jaemin closes in, too close to Haechan. "Only for you, my baby."
Forget about Jaemin and his comforting presence or worried manners, he deserves a punch.
Almost instinctively, Haechan scoots away, more than likely out of disgust despite giving the same treatment to everyone. A taste of your own medicine isn't always the best.
"Wow." Says Jaemin, offended to say the least. Haechan scoffs, unfazed.
"You'd likely tolerate it if I were Mark, I'm hurt." He pouts, annoyingly, if he were to be true with himself. Any other day, Haechan would find himself doing the same thing, but the mention of Mark just isn't settling with him.
"Don't talk about him," Just moments after silence, he starts walking out of his room with Jaemin close behind.
"I don't like him anymore."
The distinct chatters soon became more audible with each step he took. Of course loud enough to gain attention.
"Who doesn't like who anymore?" Renjun, sat on the other side of the couch questions as if he totally isn't engrossed with his phone.
"Hyuck says he doesn't like Mark anymore," Chenle, of course, is first to speak up. "But I don't believe it." And with that statement, most would agree.
"Oh, scratch that. It's not like I'd die with a new concept." Haechan defends, a poor attempt but the most he could do.
"That being un-inlove with Mark? Whom you've spent half your life hung on over? Your deemed to be soulmate?" Renjun up and against every anti with Haechan being inlove, with Mark specifically.
Can't they just forget about the whole ordeal about his, named, ten years of unrequited love? For the person who never once gave a shit about him? For that very guy who seems to despise him 24/7 no matter the reason? It's easier to leave it be.
It's easier because then, Mark wouldn't have to be walking on eggshells with each contact. He wouldn't have to be so disgusted or offended. He'd atleast be... happier.
"I'm just, fuck— I'll eat quickly, I actually need to rush," Still, he eats a full meal, to reassure Jaemin anyway.
Just as he finishes his phone vibrates, lighting up to showcase an expected message, that their manager who's meant to pick him up is outside.
With the information, and the small amount of time he has, he tidied before himself and bids his goodbye before disappearing through the door and into the car that awaits his arrival with the manager starting to steer.
"You'll be off early today so, same thing, I'll pick you up— all of you up at our designated place. The one beside the canopy at the back of the building, y'know that right?"
That's quite, disappointing. He didn't want to be in the same space, in the same car with Mark. He'd atleast expect to be given a suggestion to stay at the dreamies, but then again, the urichils would start to worry and he's to say, kinda hogging up Jaemins bed space, not that Jaemin really minds, or acknowledges.
"Yeah, same canopy, same spot, I know." He shifts in place, dragging the seatbelt to lock in. "Why are we off early today?"
Not that hes complaining, he's just wondering, why the schedules indifferent.
"Oh, I requested it," Their manager simply, like without much care, had told.
"But the management... it's our day off the next day, they allowed it?"
"Don't worry about management, they can't complain, they don't know what you're going through. And, I know the promotions back and forth is draining, so... you really need it, all of you."
The conversation was left at that, with the sound outside and the clicks of the car gears was heard in lieu of the silence. Thankfully, he hadn't addressed or— likely was avoiding the recent conflict between him and Mark. It wasn't the first time and certainly isn't the last, but it had never been up to the point where practice had to be called off.
He's dropped off no more than five minutes, and the procedure was going through smoothly although slower than usual. He'd glance at Mark from time to time and it was no slick move from him. The others would ask if he was okay and he'd reassure them.
They'd ask except for Mark.
Was he seriously still upset? Haechan isn't fully at fault, of course Mark played a part in it.
A simple sorry with a side note— even a text message would be enough to ease the situation. Of course, Haechan wouldn't accept it immediately, but it's no doubt he'd come around. It totally didn't help or encourage Haechan to be the initiator when Mark was so openly avoiding him.
He would've been fine, wouldn't even care so much, had Mark not practically shoved him down to the floor, for a single step he wasn't able to recall.
He fell down with a loud thud, head against the mirror and with Mark's attention narrowed down.
He had wanted to yell, to scream at him for the uncalled action, but he couldn't.
Mark gave off so much hatred, those eyes that used to adore him, those hands that were once so gentle, became something that Haechan couldn't even touch. The very hands that were used to help and protect him from unwanted harm, is now the ones initiating the harms to come. And with Mark, the person he had yet to fall out of love with, is hurting him.
The previous fury that resonated inside him, ceases to something much more vulnerable, something meant to crumble and break.
What was it that he's done, for Mark to hold such anger, hatred, animosity towards him. Or— rather it wasn't something he'd done, it was something in him.
The sounds blocked off before was now heard and he could process that Mark was on the other end of the older members scolding.
Meanwhile, a few with him, as a sense of comfort, of reassurance.
"Donghyuck? Nothings hurt right? You don't feel anything?" Doyoung, he could muster enough to remember.
He shook his head, in a poor attempt to say no which resulted in a terrible headache, he'd uncontrollably winced.
"Alright baby, it's alright, just stay still. Managers on his way,"
He could feel a hand trailing up at the back of his head, caressing at the spot ever so soothingly until it came to a halt. Confused, he looks at the person, Jungwoo, whose hands were still frozen in place, expression just as confused if not more than his.
He could see Jungwoo retracting his hands back, to look at the weird sensation he had felt and it was. Red. A vibrant color. Which to his horror, was his.
He was bleeding. And upon the realization settling in, headache came throbbing.
"That's—"
"Taeyong, we need the hospital."
"What?"
"Hospital, Taeyong. We need to go." Doyoung insisted, tone firmer than before.
Another question was about to leave Taeyongs mouth, but never did. The sight spoke for itself.
Whether it be major or not, they'd need Haechan in the hospital.
"He's outside, waiting." Jaehyun remarks, phone in hand now stalking closer to provide support to the younger. Lifting him up, supported by a hand grasped onto his waist, and Taeyong on the opposing side.
Faintly, Haechan could hear Johnny say; "Let's talk later, Mark."
And he's out the door.
Standing is hard enough without the headache that so stubbornly latched itself onto Haechans.
Fortunately, thank the Gods, they made it to the car, which almost immediately started to navigate its way to the nearest hospital, head on someones shoulder and an ice pack to hopefully lessen and prevent any further damage to his head.
Their manager had yet to ask why the sudden call, but he ponders about it long enough to consider that since it was Jaehyun on the phone, he'd report the problem without question.
—☆—
"—isn't needed, he's given medicine to help with the headache he'd been complaining about. As of now, nothing is to be worried for, people bleed alot from their heads, it isn't severe, just a minor bruise that's expected to heal in less than two months max."
"If anything concerning were to occur, please give us a call."
Muffled sighs and sounds of reliefs filtered the room. "Yes, thank you Doc."
"If in two hours there's no symptoms of anything unusual, he'd then be discharged under my order." Phrases of gratitude were passed around the room, hearing the door click shut the members, two of them conversed between themselves.
Which could only really be the manager and Taeyong, from Haechans judgement.
Just then, his being craved sleep. With the reminder that he'd be discharged in two hours, is worth the sleep rather than playing a pretense.
So he fell asleep to his own accord, and woke up the moment the assigned Doctor left the room with papers in hand.
"You slept alot, for someone who barely sleep at all."
Taeyong is being... sarcastic? In the last decade of being an absolute sweetheart, who favored and adored him every second of everyday? With him too?
Haechan can't say he doesn't like it. He's weird like that.
"Your time is over, let's go home. Doyoung made kimchi stew, wouldn't want it to go cold, would you?"
Of course not. No matter the circumstances, he wouldn't ever pass on Doyoungs kimchi stew, sedate him if it means tasting it.
"I'll grab a wheelchair," Their manager inquires, who then leaves to retrieve one.
"What?" Haechan questions, tone filtered with, why is a wheelchair needed?
"You heard him, you can't walk."
Why wouldn't he be able to? Like the Doctor had made clear, it isn't anything severe to cause long term damage, an assumption at the last part, but.
"Why?" He urges, showing no signs of letting down without a definite answer.
Taeyong sighs, still, he takes Haechans hands within his own and fondles. "Because of the medication that was sedated into you earlier, plus you wouldn't want to overwork yourself," He gazes, locks his attention to the younger, sweet smiles and loving eyes.
"Donghyuck, what happened with Mark... I know you've had your fair share of arguments before but, it has never gone past physical ones."
At best, or the most heated one would just be shades and insults never the shove and push. Mark hated him, that bit was obvious enough (or that was what Haechan had been telling himself for far too long). Haechan loves him, maybe a little too much. Not what most people would've been able to tolerate anyways.
"He hates me, that's what."
"Donghyuck, no he doesn't, Mark loves you he's just... an idiot who can't express that."
"Hyung, realistically speaking, he can. He expresses his love just fine for anyone else, he just decides not to when its me."
Before anyone could counter, the door creaked open revealing their manager who then wheeled in.
Defeatedly, he settles on the wheelchair, with no other choice. He should take this as an advantage to walk out and in the car without the possibility of encountering the headache he so despises. It's a great, gloomy day, nothing but grey in sight, breeze flowing through, the smell of nature, it'd be a shame to feel pain now.
All is well, not until Mark had sent a text while he'd been too hung up with watching a series in bed in pure darkness.
The text read, "Let's talk." Was he expecting this? A tad bit, but there's no way he's making a move. Not even a minute later, he receives a call. And for entertainment purposes, as well as feeding off of his pettiness if he may address it that way, he resolves to not answering. Mark can assume what Haechan might've been doing at this moment, he's free for all he knows. He's somewhat relieved when the phone call comes to an end and falls shut. Maybe Mark had taken a hint and gave up, giving Haechan his precious time to be accustomed to the series hes watching once again. Only, he really hadn't. What was it with him and his absurd change of attitude within hours apart?
"Figured you weren't asleep," Mark huffs, fully stepping foot in the room, closes the door and opens the light. The brightness was too sudden, Haechan had to take a moment to let himself adjust to the new atmosphere.
"A warning beforehand would've been nice," Haechan scoffs. "What're you doing here? You hate me so much, me being somewhere else still doesn't satisfy you? What, you want me out here completely?"
Haechan sneers at the astonished expression plastered onto the older, regardless, as always, Mark doesn't let up.
"I'm here to talk, not to berate you." He was talking so calmly, like he'd not been the reason Haechan was sent to the hospital in the first place. Typical.
"As far as I'm concerned, you have no business with me. You have never negotiated with me through anything work-related." Diverting his eyes elsewhere, still attentive enough to hear footsteps approaching to where hes laid. To his absolute mercy though, Mark flumps down to the chair next to his bed.
"Donghyuck, you aren't stupid and I have never taken you as one anything remotely close to it, you know I'm not here to talk about anything work-related." He retaliates.
And only then did Haechan really gain the courage to be, insolent.
"Then get out," Eyes goes to connect with Mark's, he even goes to point at the door, to indicate his time is over.
He'd not have the slightest feeling Mark would've simply stood and go without a fight.
"Excuse me?" On edge, as he'd never been one on end to recieve such unwelcoming vibes.
"You aren't deaf, get out." Haechan continues, prominent in his features he was being true.
"Donghyuck I want to apologize—"
"But your apology isn't needed. I have no intention to sought you out, to tell me why you hurt me so much, because you— no matter how important you're ever gonna be in my life, would never reciprocate my..." Oh how he so badly wanted to say, to confess, still he couldn't.
"What are you saying? Reciprocate what— Hyuck I'm trying to acknowledge my mistakes, I'm trying to apologize and set things straight,"
Mark looks at him with so much guilt, eyes shone bright it were more than enough. He wanted to be blind, to turn his back to all signs Mark was giving because that's all he'd ever done the last decade. He chose to, for the longest time neglect and disregard the obvious, had it been out of selfishness or desperation isn't clear, he wanted to love Mark for as long as he could.
"Please Donghyuck, don't kick me out... I desire our old relationship, I hate that I've been at my worst behavior and I'm really really sorry, with all my heart..." He pauses, seemingly rethinking what word should leave his mouth.
Blame the lighting or whatever there is to, but the hesitation and the slight stammer is, weird.
"I— I love you and it was never my intention to hurt you in any way, and I'm sincerely apologizing Hyuck," as sincere as he says it, there's that moment of pause again. "So please, I'll do anything to earn back your trust..." He shifts in place, trying to regain his composure where he'd not appear timid.
"Anything?" He inquires, took no longer than two seconds for Mark to nod. "Then get out." Haechan orders once again, a staggered Mark on the other hand refuses to comply. Which doesn't help at all, it instead just made Haechan displeased, considering it was Mark who had offered the idea of doing anything to gain his trust.
"Just hear me out Hyuck—"
"I have and I'm done, so get out."
"But Donghyuck—"
"Fuck you Mark, you can't come in here, apologize and expect a positive reaction out of me," He scoffs, much to his dismay. "You've pushed and pushed me away, now that I'm in that lane, you want to pull me back? What kind of shitheaded bullshit do you want to play?"
That glint of wrath was too noticeable to pass by, fortunately for Mark, he was able to control himself before he'd done something unacceptable.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and maintained his self control.
"I know you're angry, I am too, don't get the wrong idea. But, I really just hope I was able to relay my apology." Mark says, voice balanced, composed. "I'll leave now, I'm sorry Hyuck."
No questions asked, he left. Haechan alone, laptop flickered shut moments before, distinct chatters outside his room. He doesn't know what emotion should play, what he should feel.
It wasn't long before his tears that dared to fall during Mark's apology, whether it be due to, the heat of the moment, actually fell.
Not having the chance of pulling himself together before he'd start to sob, loud enough that he became concerned that he may gain unwanted attention.
Therefore, he lies down completely, pulls the cover over himself and drowns his sounds into the depth of his plushy, the one that Mark had given as a congratulatory gift. A bear, one that he represents and that it reminded Mark of him. He'd let himself live in the fantasy of being loved, which unfortunately led him to falling deeper and deeper, with no one there to stop and catch him, or to reciprocate his feelings. But he'd been too accommodated with chasing his only source of happiness— his passion and Mark.
It's never quite too late to back out, to put an end to his misery. Move on and get a life, love someone who'd love him back and just maybe... maybe he could wake up, looking forward to something and not be disappointed. Because then he'd be happy at the end of the day.
He'd been kept at arms length all this time, was intimacy something to dislike if it's the person you've been with— practically grew up with? Was it a Mark thing? There were people outside of their unit that Mark hadn't known for too long yet, they recieve much more than what Haechans able to get.
A simple hug lasts less than ten five seconds, to lock eyes for two seconds near impossible. Somehow, it only ever happens with him around.
Why was he exempted of such things?
Why can't hugs last minutes? Why can't they stare and lose themselves looking and adoring what they've become? Why can't he be closer than arms length? Can't he be treated the same way he treats everyone?
Haechan has done everything in his power to restrain his obsessive tendencies.
For the most part it worked. Still, comments about him clung to the side of the members "24/7" has yet to perish.
It's ridiculous honestly, that people were to talk as if they own them. It's a circus, it takes work to get fans approval.
It's not like they know them personally, so he really doesn't care what they spout if it's obvious nonsense. Realistically speaking, most stay for the fun of shipping the members, to create scenarios that keeps them up at night, to giggle, come across a video where they'd completely misinterpret the situation. They love them solely for the tension, the satisfaction, their music and comfort thrown out.
To be frank, Haechan had also been staying up all night creating scenarios, every so often reading fanfictions, dwell upon his guilt and sleep. It'd become a repetitive thing but he pondered long enough if it'd do him any good. It did not. With that in mind, he stopped, altogether. The scenarios, written works, history all down the drain.
So what if they'd go on a date? It would've been to accompany one another anyway. And so what if Mark had initiated a hug? It's not like it's out of love, just a simple, friendly, out of the blue type of thing. Destined to sleep for the night? That's due to a game wherein it decides the arrangement of who'd they share a room with. Too intimate? As ordered by the staff, they're only meant to follow. Seductive poses? Also instructed.
Everything they do is typically instructed, else he'd never actually have evidence of those moments. No way in hell Mark would tolerate such... things. Specially with Haechan? No, he'd rather swim with snakes. That's a given.
He wouldn't force himself too much on someone who clearly doesn't wish for his presence. Give him a break, he isn't just about Mark.
"Yes, you are."
"He's in denial, give him time,"
Right. He'd been invited (forced) to hang out, at a café. In other words, to interrogate. Renjun and Jaemin. Chenle was supposed to come but unfortunately decided to bail out last second.
Leaving him with the two most annoying individuals when it comes to milking information out of someone, whether it be in broad daylight or during a hurricane. With Chenle, he'd atleast be defended from time to time, but these two have no breaks.
"—told you to give up on him and find someone else, there's plenty lined up for you anyways," Jaemin sighs.
"He wants to suffer, what else would it be?"
Oh good lord save him from this monstrosity.
"He's spent a decade tailed to the guy after all, even you wouldn't have it easy trying to erase your significant other, Jaemin." That's enough of an explanation, no further details as to why he can't exactly.
"That's that, but— his situations different! He'd been inlove for a decade, I've only been for two years, Injunnie, that's a huge difference!"
"Ok, no, years differences aside, yours wasn't unrequited."
The truth, although heartbreaking.
He sometimes yearn to be Jaemin or Jeno, where two loves one another, experience numerous complications, fight, cry and resolve the issue before going to bed. Nonetheless, their love continues to burn and they strive for a better day by supporting eachother. They have the ability to talk things out, to share things willingly, patiently.
Why couldn't he have that with Mark?
But if he looks at it this way, maybe it was meant to be. Maybe life was supposed to turn out this way. Because, obviously, the universe doesn't plan on forging them together.
He just isn't meant to be Mark's.
He's near installing a recording inside his brain to remind himself that, "Mark would never love a boy." Because if it's the only way to give up on helplessness, he will (not really). But that's just utterly not possible. In no world would anyone be willing to drill into someones brain, to insert somewhat of a recording as a daily reminder. And Haechan doesn't really want to die or live braindead. One or the other, he isn't risking his life to rid of his feelings. It just isn't happening. He'd rather live, love unrequited, than die of desperation.
"Hyuck, it's alright, we'll help you. No matter how long it takes, because Mark— he's a great guy but, he just isn't it." Renjun, the ever so caring friend speaks up. He really should've given Renjun a shot, he's prone to be happy if it were the case.
"And no, I'm not taking made up excuses from you to avoid this. Capiche?" Renjun warns ahead of time. Matter of fact? Haechan doesn't even want to ensue useless attempts against Renjun because why would he? It isn't like Renjun would take him up seriously, Renjun? Obviously not, he'd never have to play along to get what he insists on getting. People would open up themselves. Like a force that adheres itself upon those, unbeknownst to what they'd signed up to. He supposes it's a thing only the universe could supply an answer to, not even Renjuns aware of.
"Injun, trust me. I'm actually gonna be real and try to not love him anymore."
Did he mean to sound satire? That wasn't his intention, really, so why was Renjun and Jaemin giving him the looks?
"How should we trust you?" He inquires, a brow raised, shows that he doesn't fantom Haechan doing just what he wants to happen.
"Uh, trust the process?"
"I'm being for real Donghyuck." It didn't need much to submit to Renjun.
"Okay, yes. I'll do it. Promise." He doesn't know what part of it, or most definitely when he swore to, Renjun is cracking a smile. A small, almost pitiful smile.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you cried suddenly, Renjun. You're so mom coded," Jaemin huffs, teases and it sure does look like that. Renjun can be so protective, he doesn't hate it at all, it's— it gives him a piece of mind, in a way. Maybe the fact that Renjun tends to watch over his friends with what of a mother instict, as what most likes to adress it, is good for him. It's good for them. And he's greatful to have him around. There'd been times where they'd constantly be at eachothers throat, usually a month after would the tensed air die down and eventually warm up to eachothers presence again. It isn't inevitable, nothing is perfect like what authors of fairytales make out of it, a fantasy that kids believe in and later comes the betrayal and realization; "it isn't true." After a certain situation where that'd be proven. He'd been a victim of it.
Because come on, they were so hypnotizing. Ones true loves kiss heals thy world. That's too good to be true. No, it's stupid. All those manipulative, faux stories that draws kids into believing a kiss is the solution to all problems are stupid. Enlighten him, but at the end of the day, even those that lived their life "perfectly" would say the same thing about certain beliefs of childrens.
"True loves kiss doesn't heal you, even if what you've got was something you can grow out of. A kiss wouldn't heal you of cancer, not a fatal sickness, not anything."
"Sometimes, even those who you think may be the love of your life, is the one who ruins you and live life with a second thought. Why would anyone think— a kiss is equivalent to saving you?"
Now that Haechans old enough to specify what's reality and fantasy, those words have really rung something in him.
Actually, wasn't it his grandma who said those words? He could recall himself asking her about her marriage and how his grandpa proposed. He sees something ignite in his grandma's eyes, fondness.
She talked about their story. They lived in poverty most of their time together, arose when the gods gave them the opportunity to do so. They're well off, debts paid, life insurance, their savings. All is well and they were happy. As she said, they were destined to be together, binded by the universe. But unfortunately, true loves kiss doesn't free you from what you aren't happy with or the sickness you have obtained over the years.
It's why she learned to let go, a gut feeling that her husband wouldn't be staying long.
Haechan had given her the benefit of the doubt before, perchance, she may have been correct. Yes, Haechan had been too blind. He wouldn't deny that. He regrets it. If he could go back in time, he'd not be a fool for Mark. He'd actually get things done, he wouldn't be fantasizing marriage, with their adopted dog beside them for their picture taking. The dreamies as the best man, Urichil would be bawling their eyes, atleast most of them.
God, how clueless and delusional. He just wouldn't allow himself to take a hint. He's so so so stupid. How did he even allow himself to get so lost? Maybe Mark had an unknown power, similar to Renjuns. Or, actually, is it a Donghyuck thing? The hell?
Oh shit. It's definitely a Donghyuck thing. Why is he so stupid!? Is the world stupid? No, no its definitely just him. Why is he like this, oh the universe really can't provide mercy, the bare minimum. Mark and his dumbass. He's a dumbass. A kind dumbass. Sometimes a bastard dumbass, Mark! Why did he have to be so damn attractive. But Haechans also attractive, he's a cutie, everyone says he is. Oh they really are meant to be—
"Haechan!"
"This is why I held skeptics, you're quite hopeless aren't you, Hyuck." Jaemin sighs, hair ruffled by the work of his two hands in absolute distress, not far from how Renjun is currently feeling.
"I didn't say anything!" Haechan defends.
Lowly, his defense is weak. Not a tad bit convincing. They're definitely not humans. He wasn't even opening his mouth, how the hell could they know what he was up to? Unless, he really was speaking.
Scratch the Donghyuck thing it's totally the lack of sleep.
"You only ever stay quiet if you're thinking about Mark, you don't just suddenly fall silent during conversations you idiot!"
They didn't seriously take note of his habits, did they... was it even a habit? Does he only really stay silent if it's for certain things? Or— someone. They're really giving him the idea he's the perfect epitome of an individual that's mouth doesn't stop running, even during situations where silence is a huge must. So much for using his mouths purpose.
"Okay, well— something just came up and he was apart of it," Haechan attempts once again, to atleast gain a sliver bit of believe.
"Like daydreaming about a future where you're together?"
"Seriously, Donghyuck. You're gonna be the one in agony."
That is technically what would happen.
No— realistically it would. And he doesn't even try to backtrack on it, what good would it do for him if he says otherwise.
The previous topic, which was Mark, was pushed back and they turned to talking about a more casual, lightweight topic. However his supposed to be day off turned to an unexpected schedule with his manager calling to inform about the day.
So with a saddened expression, he says his goodbyes and goes to wait for his manager outside who claims he's a minute away.
He sees the car closing in and eventually, the passengers window rolls down. He slips in and buckles himself up.
"I'm so sorry, Donghyuck. Even I was startled when the higher ups informed me. They said we're running short on staff for the actual day, so they needed to make some adjustments," He shifts the gear stick in lieu for pausing.
"They'll provide a larger cut next payment to compensate for the inconvenience,"
That's what Haechan had wanted to hear. He wouldn't willingly work on a day off for something that the company handles.
"Okay, where're we headed?"
"Shooting area, for your concept photos." Just as he was about to reply, the car swerved quite sharply due to inconsiderate drivers who tends to change direction without turning the blinker on. Happens one too many times, honestly.
"It's the only thing you'd have to attend, it'd take maybe two hours, three at most— you know the drill." Unless there'd been a disturbance which would cause the whole procedure to take longer. Intrinsically very bothersome but whatever. As long as it's done with. He doesn't really mind staying for 10 more minutes, it's not like he had things piled up that needed to be done other than rot in bed all day. He glances at his watch, to the road, and to his phone. Unsure of what to do anyway.
"Alright, got it," he replied, settling back in his seat. The passing streets blurred outside the window, a steady rhythm of gray and green. He couldn't help but think how oddly fitting it was that the world seemed to move on autopilot, while he was just a passenger being shuffled around, almost like an afterthought.
They've arrived sooner than he'd thought, initially thinking it'd been a far destination. And it seems he didn't need to wait, he'd rather been the one they've been waiting for.
The place was quite busy, with makeup artists and other staff rushing the rest. They must be excited to run out of work. He understands, he's feeling the same way. Although, there'd been one that seems a little... strange? No— felt strange.
He doesn't really know what words should be used, something appropriate, he didn't want to mislead himself. Might've been a new staff. She wasn't really familiar, but she stood out. It wasn't often he'd see someone among the staffs with a hair so vibrant. He's kinda envious, it doesn't look frizzy, not at all damaged.
She seems kind of interesting. The demeanor— no, the aura she held was quite unusual. Not in the scary way, an intimidating way.
He's looking too much into this, it isn't like staffs come and go all the time. Nonetheless, he wouldn't get so hung up over new people that gave off unusual vibes, long hair, unpleasant— you name it. Albeit, she turns out to be the one in charge of doing his makeup. It's just great.
It was fine. Literally, he had no problem with her being his makeup artist but the way she handled him like he wasn't just as fragile as her is eye opening to anyone. She's too harsh, his neck is barely hanging, his chin is sore from her hands practically gripped onto it. She wasn't rushing, that much is obvious, but still. She's applying powder roughly like he needs too much of it, like it comes off with each dab.
"Excuse me, can you be a little gentler?" He asks, politely despite the annoyance built up.
She blatantly scoffs, places her hands on either side of her hips practically glaring.
"No. Unless you want to do the job yourself, that's quite alright. Idols and their arrogant self, there's too much of you."
Haechan couldn't contain himself, rolling his eyes, scoffing louder.
"If I had the desire to scrape my skin off of my face, I would do it myself."
He only meant to be a bit of a bitch, but she had more to come.
"Y'know what pisses me off more than anything? It's that you people in the industry presumes themselves to hold the upper hand. But without us, you would be nothing, no one would love you with those hideous scars beneath layers," She smiles. "Only those with the same case would, you've no idea how ugly you look, no makeup could ever change that. You're basically a slut, you act like a girl and that your members like you, it wouldn't be a surprise if you had sex with them."
"What a tedious approach, look, all I'm asking is that you could be more sensitive with the person you're working with. You're not the only one struggling here, be more considerate."
He doesn't know what it is he said that caused the situation to escalate further, but it seems she just held a grudge.
"No! You're so fucking infuriating! How fucking dare you tell me how to do my job? I'm not the only one struggling? I am the only one struggling, it's because of you!"
"Quiet down, we've no time for childlike fights." One of the older staff interjects, more than likely irritated by the high volume of the lady's voice. Were they even to blame? None of them are quite in the mood, high hopes they'd be resting today.
"Uhm excuse me wrinkled hag, who are you to demand me? This is a business between me and Donghyuck,"
Ew.
"Just call me Haechan, or whatever," He irks. He loves his name, but never thought he'd hate it when someone he dislikes says it.
"No can do, slut."
"Hey, just do your job and I kid you not, we'll be over this quickly and wouldn't have to see eachother for the rest of the day. Sounds great, no?"
She seems to contemplate for a short awful amount of time, however, she chose to listen to her big ego. What more can she really do? It's atleast expected.
"Well then how about cooperating and not being a bitch just this one time? I'll do my work however I want and you stay silent, how bout that?"
Okay, she's just being rude, suggesting an absurd idea. It's not even about being compatible with one another anymore, she's looking for a fight. One that Haechan is edged on giving but someone beats him to it.
"If you're gonna continue speaking like that to someone who's asking for a simple adjustment from you, step out. I will not tolerate such behaviors, especially to my members. You're not only blatantly disrespectful, you're also being an asshole to everyone's faces. Have you no shame or what? Did grownups never tell you to have respect? Or you just chose to be like that?"
Mark, counterattacks, shockingly enough he decided to speak, he still continues.
"Quite embarrassing, no? Coming from someone barely older, you've got alot to say."
The woman's face flushes instantly, a frown so prominent it may become permanently plastered. She doesn't move, but her fists are clenched tight. And just then did she turn to face Haechan and strikes. It wasn't a particularly light one, quite heavy despite her size. And definitely, could he feel blood trickling inside his mouth, a gush of sting hit him right then.
"What the fuck?" Haechan seethes.
Talk about being unprofessional. Seriously. Of all times, she chose today.
He barely registered what happened next, but he caught a glimpse.
The woman was sprawled on the ground, a furious Mark looming over her, with Johnny, Jaehyun, and even Taeyong stepping in to hold him back. Her lip was split, a trail of blood staining her mouth. Yet it was her expression—agitated and defiant—that held his gaze. Mark was still struggling to break free.
"Mark, that's enough," he said, his voice calm but firm, hoping to defuse the situation—or at least keep Mark from committing a crime in broad daylight.
To his surprise, Mark stopped. He shook off the others and walked over to Haechan, crouching to meet his eyes. Mark's hand reached up, carefully examining him.
After a moment, he stood up, pulling Haechan to his feet and keeping him close.
"I don’t think we can shoot today," Mark announced. "The bruise is pretty bad." His arm stayed around Haechan's shoulders as he added, "We should reschedule."
Thankfully, no one seems to oppose.
"Yeah, okay, let's reschedule, I'll talk to management." Their manager proclaims.
"While you're at it, please tell them about that staff. And if you're capable, please remove her from working with us, she seems dangerous. Thank you in advance manager-nim."
Haechan glanced at Mark, taken aback by the sudden shift in demeanor.
Moments ago, Mark had been a storm on the brink of unleashing, but now he was calm, protective even. It was as if the fury had drained out of him the instant he saw Haechan's condition.
Johnny exchanged a look with Jaehyun and Taeyong, as if silently asking, What just happened? There was a palpable tension in the air, as though the chaos from moments before hadn’t fully dissipated. The woman on the ground was still glaring, her lip bleeding, as she slowly pushed herself upright.
“This isn’t over,” she spat, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “You’ll regret this.”
Mark didn’t even spare her a glance. His focus remained solely on Haechan.
Who was still reeling, trying to process what had just unfolded. “Let’s get you checked out,” Mark said quietly, his arm still firmly around Haechan’s shoulders. “We need to make sure it’s nothing serious.”
Taeyong stepped forward, his expression stern as he addressed the woman. “You need to leave. Now.” There was no room for negotiation in his tone. Johnny and Jaehyun took a step forward as well, making it clear they wouldn’t hesitate to escort her out if necessary.
She hesitated for a moment, then scoffed and turned on her heel, stumbling slightly as she walked away.
"Hyuck, bloods seeping out your mouth," Jungwoo exclaimed while Doyoung hurried to wipe the blood away.
"What a bitch, can't even adjust in the slightest bit... people get offended more and more these days, they think everyones out to get them." Yuta sighs, arms crossed. Glad to say he wasn't even exaggerating, he chuckles along, but then Yuta looks at him, eyes filled with worry.
"You sure you're okay? You've bled alot in a span of three days."
"Yeah, no, quite ironic actually," He cracks a smile, chuckles ceases when he realizes just how serious it was for the rest. He knew they were worried, they've always been the type to be. Truthfully, he really doesn't want any more injuries, he had plenty already, he'd love a meal but it seems he wouldn't be able to eat just fine for a few days, maybe even weeks so that just really sucks.
"Uh well, I'll stay with you to get that checked out. Mark, just stay home, get some rest I'll take Donghyuck." Johnny states, trailing forward to take Haechan in his own grasp. Before he could really take him, Mark tightened his grip for a split second, as if he had no intention of letting go. Of having someone else hold Haechan.
Nonetheless, Mark complies fairly easy. Going along the path out with the rest, while the two stayed behind.
"Johnny, do you need me to come pick you two up later?" Their manager inquires.
Johnny smiles, "Yes, if it isn't too much of a bother," Their manager had politely shooed him off. He's practically a second father. "It's not a bother Johnny, when will you ever get that," He smiles anyway.
After exchanging hugs, the manager disappeared from view, leaving Johnny and Haechan to navigate their way to the company-provided doctor. Fortunately, a quick inquiry with a staff member gave them the doctor’s location. Unfortunately, it required a five-minute walk (or more) under the unforgiving sun. They should have brought an umbrella.
At last, they arrived, and the cool blast of air conditioning greeted them like heaven. There was no better word for it.
Johnny and Haechan approached the doctor, who welcomed them with a warm smile.
She gestured for them to sit and began addressing the reason for their visit.
"What seems to be the problem?"
She asked, gently tilting Haechan's chin, Inspecting his face.
"A staff member punched him," Johnny explained. "We just wanted to make sure it's nothing serious."
The doctor hummed thoughtfully as she straightened up and reached for a medical kit. "It doesn't look too serious," she said while preparing some supplies. "I've seen similar cases before, and it usually leads to bruising like this." She walked over to fetch an ice pack. "On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, how much does it hurt?"
"Uh, about a seven? It kind of comes and goes," Haechan replied.
The doctor nodded, handing him the ice. She then started stepping away again to get some medication. "A bit of purple is starting to show. I'll prescribe something for the pain— I'll give you the prescription, take it once daily before breakfast for a week. And you should also increase your water intake. I can tell you're dehydrated just by looking at your lips."
After receiving the prescription and a few more instructions from the doctor, Johnny and Haechan thanked her and left the clinic. Stepping outside, they were instantly met by the scorching heat again, but this time the coolness lingering from the air-conditioned room made it a little more bearable.
They found a shaded spot near the building entrance and decided to wait for their manager to pick them up.
Haechan held the ice pack gently against his cheek, grimacing at the soreness, while Johnny glanced at his phone for any updates.
"Think he'll take long?" Haechan asked, shifting uncomfortably on the bench.
Johnny shook his head. "He should be here soon. He texted that he was on the way about five minutes ago." He glanced over at Haechan, eyes narrowing at the hint of a bruise darkening on his cheek. "You sure you're okay? If it gets worse, we'll have to go back."
Haechan let out a small, resigned laugh. "I'll live. I’ve survived before." He tilted his head back slightly, letting the sun filter through the leaves of the nearby tree. "It's quite annoying she had to resort to violence though, I mean— look where I'm at now."
“Tell me about it,” Johnny replied with a sigh. “At least we’re almost done.”
Moments later, a familiar black van pulled up to the curb, and the window rolled down to reveal their manager waving at them. “Get in, you two.”
Johnny opened the door and helped Haechan climb in, making sure he was settled before sliding in himself. As the van drove away, the air-conditioned comfort helped soothe some of the tension they had carried all day.
The ride was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional updates from the manager about their schedule. It didn’t take long before they reached the 127 dorm, a welcome sight after a rather exhausting afternoon.
The van came to a gentle stop, and Johnny gave Haechan a light nudge.
“We’re here,” he said.
Haechan sat up slowly, removing the ice pack and giving his cheek a slight rub. “Finally,” he muttered, stepping out of the van with Johnny right behind him.
“Rest up,” their manager called out from the driver's seat. “And let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do,” Johnny replied, giving a brief wave as the van pulled away.
The two made their way up to the dorm, each step bringing them closer to the much-needed comfort of rest. Johnny, opens the door, relief.
Johnny glanced over at Haechan, concern lingering in his gaze.
“Come on, let's get you inside. I'll probably go out with Jaehyun later to buy the meds, so you go get rest," Says Johnny. "Your poor little braincells in a crisis with the lack of sleep you're giving yourself." The sudden shift in his behavior just never seems to unimpress Haechan.
"I hate you," Haechan scoffs, he actually does not. Johnny knows he doesn't which is why he tends to push his buttons further.
"Aw hyuckie hates his Johnny hyung? I was even planning to cook for us tonight, include kimchi jjigae but I guess— you don't want it." And oh would he ever allow that, no. Never. Kimchi jjigae? Planned but thrown in the bin in the end? No.
"No! I was just kidding," Haechan pleads, eyes formed into something most fall victim for. And who was Johnny to remain stoic?
"I'll cut you some slack baby, seriously though, you're gonna walk into a wall." And stop did Haechan do. He was indeed about to fall injured again if it weren't for Johnny reminding him so.
"Remember what I said about the lack of sleep? Nows the perfect time." Sometimes, Johnny needs someone to punch him in the gut for being so sarcastic. But then again, kimchi jjigae. Punching someone because of pettiness is the last thing he'd want to do at an afternoon where the temperature changes everywhere he goes. Behind the door that leads outside, is scorching hot, but inside— cold. Maybe too cold.
But it's better than the heat. He can't, for the love of God, bear burning under the sun. A bruised face, wow, a splitting headache? Instantly out of the question.
"Yeah, I will sleep, therefore— I'm leaving you behind. Bye hyung!" Haechan exclaims momentarily, dashing up the stairs and slams the door accidentally. Haechan intends to watch over a few videos and then go to sleep. But, he's actually so damn sleepy.
Realizing how sleepy he actually was, Haechan quickly abandoned the idea of watching anything and let himself drift off to sleep.
He could only hope he'd wake up without any pain, though deep down, he knew that was wishful thinking.
The soreness seemed to have a way of spreading and intensifying with every passing hour.
Haechan drifted off almost instantly, his body sinking into the mattress like it hadn’t felt rest in days. The coolness of the room provided some relief from the persistent ache in his cheek, but even in sleep, he could feel a dull throb beneath the surface.
His dreams were a jumbled mix of hazy images and fleeting thoughts, offering no real escape from the discomfort.
A couple of hours later, a faint knock on his door stirred him from his sleep. Haechan groaned, eyes still heavy as he rolled over. The door creaked open, and Johnny's head peeked in.
“Hey, just checking in,” Johnny said softly. “How are you feeling?”
Haechan blinked slowly, trying to shake off the grogginess. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he muttered, pressing a hand lightly against his cheek. “It’s still sore, but I think the medicine’s helping a little.”
Johnny stepped inside, holding out a bottle of water and a small snack. “You should eat something, even if it’s just a little. And drink up, the doctor wasn’t kidding about you being dehydrated.”
Haechan pushed himself up reluctantly, taking the water and snack from Johnny. “Thanks, hyung.” He took a sip and leaned back against the headboard, the cool liquid refreshing his dry throat. “Guess I’ll have to sleep again."
“Rest is probably the best thing you can do right now,” Johnny agreed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “If it gets worse, we’ll head back to the doctor, okay?”
Haechan nodded, already feeling his eyelids growing heavy again. “Yeah, okay,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he sank back into the pillows.
Johnny gave a reassuring nod and quietly exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him. As Haechan drifted off once more, he could only hope that this time, sleep would bring him more relief than pain.
Fortunately for Haechan, and all merciful gods or whatever the universe had compelled someone to do, the pain ceased.
Although it still stung, it isn't as bad. Nothing an ice pack couldn't fix, really.
Haechan shifts, pulls the cover away from him. Just as he was about to stand up, the knob to his door started turning. And turn it did, it slowly creaks open where someone slipped inside. It was dark, so he doesn't know who it could've been, but if he were to trust his guts... it must be Mark.
And he was correct.
Mark closed the door, light switched on. He looks at Haechan, ice pack in hand as if he recieved some type of telepathy.
"Johnny and Jaehyun went out to buy your meds, the rest are accustomed to something else outside, so it's just you and me here at the moment. Here, don't feel too bad."
Mark presses the icepack onto Haechans cheek, to where it's noticeably forming a dark shade.
"Still hurt?" Mark asks, moving as to sit beside Haechan, waiting for an answer.
"No, just stings." Haechan says, not much emotion as he avoids— perceptibly avoids Mark's gaze.
"Are you curious about the staff?" Mark dabs the icepack with little pressure, staring beneath his feet then back to Haechan, where he still refuses to acknowledge Mark's wandering eyes.
"Why?" Not a definite answer, he knows, but doesn't know what else he'd give besides that. He doesn't really care about the staff.
"Just because," Mark sighs, retracts the icepack to turn it around on its other side. "I wanted to know."
"Know what?" Only then did Haechan actually tilt his head to stare at Mark. Utter confusion.
"If you felt bad for her after I launched at her," Mark smiles, like the weirdo he is despite what's currently coming out of his mouth. It's funny. Haechan doesn't need a reason to understand why exactly he fell for Mark.
"No." Mark's smile eventually grew upon hearing the answer Haechan had given him.
Like a damn maniac, he thinks.
"And if she were to get fired? Would you feel bad then?" He continues.
Haechan narrows his eyes. He doesn't even need to ponder. Why would he feel sympathy for someone who hates the world. It's ridiculous to even think about.
"No." Haechans breathing hitched for a split second when Mark presses the icepack again. Too cold. Mark mutters an apology to then smile again, this time, not the maniacally kind— but the soft one. The one he used way back when everything was okay. Back when he used to adore Haechan.
"That's good," Mark heaved a sigh of relief. He shot a face of confusion. Mark seemingly getting the signal, he speaks. "The ceo summoned her, had a talk I heard." Mark looks away. "Actually she... she confessed about this not being the first time. Had done worse."
"She's still in the company, but she's been removed from working with us."
Haechan hums, an acknowledgement. Mark examines him, concern creeping over. Icepack situated above his bedside, soon forgotten.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't do anything to you," Mark leans closer. "I promise I'll protect you." Then hugs him. Warmth seeping through. Haechan feels himself warming up to the touch, eyes slipped shut as Mark continues to hold him. His face buried onto the crook of Mark's neck, he could faintly smell his perfume. His favorite. He wouldn't dare say it out loud though, it might drive Mark to use a different kind. That would totally bring down his self esteem. Wouldn't want to see another day, honestly.
I promise I'll protect you.
Was it an empty promise? Or was it to just ground Haechan?
Either way, he doesn't care as much anymore. He's pretty sure he's got Mark's answer settled. It's only up to Haechan to put an end to his one-sided love.
"I remember when you were so clingy and affectionate, so much so that I almost quit. But then you stopped, and I realized i didn't hate it at all. I actually took a liking to it," Mark whispers, hands moving to ruffle Haechans hair. "And I love it when you'd act like a baby, especially towards me." His movements stopped, only hugging tighter.
"I was your favorite, wasn't I?" Mark enveloped him completely at this point.
Haechan nods, kept his eyes close, savoring the moment. He doesn't know how long this would last, he wishes it be forever but again, it's too far from reality.
Mark doesn't say anything after, choosing to just live in the moment. The hum of the air conditioner, the wind blowing outside. He and Mark, in his room hugging, like there wouldn't be more to come. Everything seems perfect.
Now that Haechans actually thought about it, this was the first time they'd hug after roughly a year.
Maybe it's why he misses it so much. Because Mark would show little to no affection, not even from time to time. Then was it the guilt? The guilt of hurting someone over something so trivial?
Mark isn't normally like this, after all, he claims he doesn't like physical touch. They'd been hugging for more than five minutes, and Mark is making no move.
Haechan starts to move, although a sudden voice came piercing through. A whisper, firm, straight to his ear.
"Don't go," Mark maneuvers them both so that he's resting against the headboard, with Haechan resting on his shoulder, head burrowed against Mark's neck. "Let's just stay here."
In retrospect, Mark would be running away just to avoid his touches. But that was before. He'd be lying if he said this didn't weird him out even in the slightest. Is Mark possessed or what? Maybe a crazy fan had threatened him to be affectionate.
But that's absolutely impossible, all the more ridiculous because Mark would never listen to such requests. Haechan swears this is making his head hurt, he doesn't want to think, but keeps going back to it anyway.
Nonetheless, with Mark, he doesn't move. He sinks in deeper, quite what he'd been looking for.
He loves Mark's hugs the most, despite the fact theres more than a dozen who'd willingly open their arms just for him.
Maybe because he'd only get it in certain situations. It's not a daily occurance— that's for sure, so maybe it's why he loves it so much. The warmth he'd give off also plays a factor, and he'd cover him completely, like a baby.
"Hyuck,"
Haechan hums, to grant Mark his reply.
"I love you, you know that right?" Haechan could only nod. He wasn't completely in control of his emotions, but he's ecstatic.
"I love you so much, Donghyuck. Let's not leave eachother, okay?" Mark leans in, kisses atop his hair.
"I survived, because of you. I will always keep that engraved in my mind." Mark heaves out a breath.
"Don't forget your worth, Donghyuck. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, not even me." He nods once again. Mark and his ways of getting through Haechan. The effect he held upon him— it's incredulous.
—☆—