NCT Oneshots

Stressed Out | Markmin

Pair: Markmin (Mark x Jaemin) - Platonic

Genre: angst, fluff, Little Space

Warnings: Anxiety/Panic attacks, over-working, a bit of scratching/self-harm

Small Summary: With SM giving Mark so many comebacks all at once, he finds himself becoming overwhelmed and in need of using his positive coping mechanism.

Requested by: anonymous

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Mark felt the sweat drip down the back of his neck and disappear into his shirt, lifting the fabric of his shirt up to wipe at droplets forming on his nape. He let out harsh puffs of air as he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes roaming over the fog that was beginning to form on the mirrors of the practice room in front of him.

Music swirled faintly in the background and the idol felt his thoughts muddle as he closed his eyes, exhaustion dragging his body down to the floor where he rested his elbows on his bent knees.

It was somewhere close to 3am. The other members of 127 had left close to  - two hours was it? - two hours ago and he had stayed behind to practice. Although he had to admit that it hadn't been his suggestion.

"Mark what the hell are you doing?" A sharp voice barked out as the music for their title track 'Kick It' came to a stop, the room filled with desperate gasps for air. Mark pressed his palms against his knees and he looked up in confusion, making eye contact with the fuming choreographer.

"W-What?" He asked tentatively and the choreographer scoffed, giving him a disgusted stare as he looked Mark up and down. The other members having quieted slightly, attentive to the conversation now going on between one of their youngest members and their dance instructor.

"Don't give me that bullshit Mark, you've been off this entire dance practice," the teacher looked up at the clock which displayed that the early hours of the morning were just starting. "Honestly that has probably been the worst dancing I've seen since your pre-debut days. If I were you, I would stay after to get these steps down."

Mark felt his throat close up and he nodded his head, looking down and staring at his feet. He lifted his head up and accidentally made eye contact with Johnny who seemed to be unknowingly agreeing with the dance instructor's words, something tightening in his chest.

"Honestly, I think he's right Mark. Maybe stay behind for an extra hour just to make sure you have at least the basics down," Taeyong chimed in from the side, his tone light and encouraging but the works dug into Mark's heart and throbbing muscles. Other chimes of agreement piped up and he felt himself trying to take deep breaths to calm himself down as the rest of 127 was dismissed for the night, leaving him alone in the empty practice room.

He felt the overwhelming urge to slip into his comforting little space, to envelop himself in simpler thoughts and have someone cuddle and baby him. To chase away lingering thoughts of responsibility and any other self-care responsibilities. But he pushed it to the back of his head like he had been doing for the past three weeks and moved to plug his phone into the speaker system.

Mark staggered to his feet, debating whether or not he should try and wipe away the fogging glass. But before he could take another step to play the music from the beginning, he felt black swarm around his vision and he blinked in surprise, his hand reaching out to grab onto something as he felt dizzy.

However, standing in the middle of the dance floor, there was nothing to grab onto and he stumbled again, off-balance. He felt his head pound and before he could process what was going on he collapsed to the ground, his already bruised legs hitting the floor with a sickening 'crack'.