Head Down

◤fifty four◢

Mark doesn't remember anything about graduation.

He doesn't remember moving the tassel to the other side, receiving his diploma or getting a kiss from Donghyuck on the cheek.

He doesn't remember his parents congratulating him for working hard, doesn't remember them treating him and Donghyuck out to dinner, doesn't remember them heading back to Seoul that night.

Mark doesn't remember anything as he's folding clothes, as he's packing boxes, as he's taping them shut.

But it must've happened.

Or else he wouldn't be standing in an almost empty house. With the walls bare, not that there was much covering them in the first place, kitchen cabinets empty, bedrooms stripped of life and living room echoey because of its emptiness.

And oddly enough, Mark doesn't hate it. He doesn't hate the emptiness, the echo or the blinding white of all the walls. It doesn't make him emotional, it doesn't bring him to tears. He doesn't feel happy either.

He doesn't feel anything.

Much like this town, this house hadn't done anything to make Mark grow attached to it.

Empty promises, twisted morals and disgusting privilege; all of that, Mark is glad to leave behind.

Well.

Maybe there's one thing he doesn't want to leave behind.

Maybe there's one thing he wouldn't be capable of leaving behind.

One thing who was the only light of this town, which Mark hadn't grown to hate, but hated from the beginning.

Someone who comes bouncing into the living room, sunny on his feet and bright with his smile. Oversized t-shirt falling to his knees, legs and collarbones exposed to show a tease of what the night prior had entailed.

His boyfriend.

His Donghyuck.

His only sunshine when the clouds are dark.

"Hyung!"

His.

Simply his, point blank.

Catching an armful of Donghyuck is something Mark doesn't think he could ever get tired of, not when Donghyuck wraps his legs around his waist and arms around his neck, hands around his heart. Metaphorically, of course.

Mark wouldn't mind if Donghyuck really did put his hands around his heart, but that was something else.

Another thing Mark could never get tired of was Donghyuck's smile. Boxy and bright, illuminating the dimness everywhere. His own personal sun, someone Mark is lucky enough to have smile mere centimetres away from his face.

"Good morning, sunflower."

Sunflowers.

Mark doesn't know which one is the sunflower between the two of them.

Sunflowers always look towards the sun, and while Mark calls Donghyuck his sunshine and is constantly unable to tear his eyes off of him, Donghyuck is equally as enamoured, never looking a direction that Mark isn't in.

Maybe, they could be each other's sunflower.

Each other's sun.

"Morning," Donghyuck giggles, minty breath hitting Mark's face, voice bubbly.

Mark knew from day one that he wouldn't be able to leave this godforsaken town without holding Donghyuck's hand.

Luckily, along with the boxes packed behind him, Mark also gets to pack Donghyuck up to bring with him.

Theoretically speaking, that is.

In reality, Donghyuck had picked up his entire life in a few boxes, stripping his bedroom of everything which made it his.

The paintings, the frames. The tape decor and the polaroid photos hanging from fairy lights. The flower petals littering every crevice, the tasteful items of clothing strewn around. The makeup which used to sit messy on a vanity now tucked into boxes, the letters and poems Mark had written him sealed away in binders, safe and preserved.

"Good morning kiss?" Mark asks, sticking his lips out in a pout because one; it makes them look more kissable and two; because Donghyuck never says no to him when he pouts.

And he's proven right once again, when Donghyuck wordlessly leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his pursed lips, warmth immediately flooding through both their bodies at the contact.

It's light, but it's powerful.

Kind of like Donghyuck.

Mark guesses it's fitting.

"Am I heavy?" Donghyuck asks when they pull apart, noses brushing against each other.

Donghyuck was a bit heavy, because Mark doesn't work out. His arms are noodle thin, as Donghyuck likes to say, but there wasn't another place he'd want Donghyuck to be. He likes holding the younger in his arms, close to his heart, skin on skin, lips on lips.

He likes Donghyuck.

"You're heavy in my heart," he winks, sleazy smile on his face as Donghyuck scrunches his own in disgust, promptly shimmying out of Mark's hold. "Hey no, I like holding you."

Donghyuck scoffs, adjusting his shirt. It doesn't do anything, his golden thighs are still visibly, mauled neck still on display. His hair isn't any better, mussed and messy, and Mark kind of wants to run his fingers through it to tame the strands a bit, but he knows nothing innocent could come out of the gesture.

"You're like a star, Hyuck," Mark sighs, dreamily at that, finding himself unable to stop himself when he sees just how bright Donghyuck glows in the empty space.

Donghyuck squints at Mark.

"Don't start—"

"Looking up at the sky, we see stars. Little illuminants which lead us towards dreams, to where we want to go. Stars are like... Our heart's compass. And I think that, no matter where I'll be, who I'm with, what's in my life... Whenever I look up at the sky, I'll see you. You're my star, guiding me. Wherever I go, you'll always be there."

Silence consumes them, and Donghyuck takes the time to focus on the beauty of Mark's words.

He has a way with them, a way so beautiful Donghyuck didn't know if it was humane. But Mark is very much real in front of him, eyes shining and smile blinding, and his words are also, very much real.

"I thought I told you to keep your sappy shit on papers hyung," Donghyuck manages to whisper out, breathless because once again, Mark's magical words have left him gasping for air.

He always does this, finds the most random yet most perfect times to mutter honey coated sugar into his ears, sometimes into his mouth, maybe into his skin, between his legs and up his fingers.

No matter the situation though, the impact is alway the same.

Donghyuck's nose stinging, eyes blurring, heart thundering, hands shaking, senses overwhelming.

Because it really doesn't get any better than Mark Lee, does it?

"Mark just— Finish packing your room, okay?" Donghyuck chokes out, looking anywhere but Mark, who looks like an absolute puppy, simultaneously endeared and awestruck by his effect on Donghyuck. "I'll make breakfast, and once you're done, we can leave."

Leave.

Mark gets to leave this house.

Mark gets to leave this town.

Mark gets to leave the ideas he's never agreed with, the community he never got along with, the authority he never understood, and the people he never liked.

Mark gets to leave.

And as Mark makes his way to his bedroom, passing by Donghyuck in the kitchen, he realizes one more thing,

He gets to leave with Donghyuck.