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irtza · 4 years

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MEADOW BOYS

PART ONE

The fights stopped for a while, and eventually, so did the manager's attempts at getting them to talk. Mark point blank refused to look at Donghyuck, which was easy in a team of ten. He always had someone else to be with, and so did the younger. Mark found himself latching onto Johnny and Taeyong the most, drowning himself in projects and practice and work.

It was a useful distraction, because he wouldn't have the time or the energy to spare and glance in the direction of his meadow boy. The chit of paper with Donghyuck's name weighed down his wallet heavily, tucked away in a corner along with a family photo he kept of his parents and his brother, and a receipt of the first guitar he had bought with his own money. He convinced himself to not get rid of the chit, because it was a memory with all of Dream, not just him.

And then came the announcement for the Dream comeback. With that came the heavy tension and worry from 127's side. Mark overheard several conversations Taeyong ended up having with the managers or Doyoung, where he reassured them that Mark and Haechan were responsible, that they would never ruin a comeback with their tussles and arguments because they both cared too much about their careers for that, and the 127 dynamic was still going great despite the obvious disconnect.

But then he remembered all the times he felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart when Donghyuck said something too mean or looked away just to be healed when he would throw an arm around his shoulder and walk out the doors of the company building and he wondered if Donghyuck even knew what he was doing to Mark.

It was times like that when Mark wondered if he'd made the right choice, every time he paused outside Jaehyun and Donghyuck's room on his way back from the kitchen to hear either yells of victory with overwatch in the background or low voices talking about something, or just steady breathing.

Mark hated to admit it, but he missed Donghyuck. He really fucking missed his meadow boy, with daisies in his hair and scintilla in his eyes and sunshine bouncing off every sharp plane of his face. He missed his smaller frame that would forcefully wrap itself around Mark, the chapped lips he would try to avoid pressing against his skin because he was scared he'd want to feel more.

Maybe not.

And so came the Dream practices, where Mark had his own room, small and cramped but still his own. The walls were thin and he could hear Jeno and Donghyuck laugh at jokes or just talk about things in muffled low voices.

He would feel alone so he'd curl up under the blanket or go find himself a snack in the kitchen, where he'd find Jisung rummaging through the cabinet at some ungodly hour and then they'd watch a Korean dubbed version of Captain America and fall asleep on the couch. They'd wake up the next morning with stiff limbs and sore necks but hks heart would feel considerably lighter until he would catch sight of Donghyuck clinging onto Chenle who would screech and shove him away, but because he couldn't be in a bad mood he would go hang around Jaemin who would greet him with a low good morning and the bowl of cereal he was filling for himself.

They would go to practice or to events with their masks up and bucket hats drawn low and sometimes Mark would stare at the retreating figure of Donghyuck, who usually walked between Jeno and Renjun, and sometimes he would see fan taken pictures of him doing the same and curse himself, and stay up till three am wondering if Donghyuck saw those pictures too and hated him or scoffed at him for looking so longingly when he was the one who refused to talk it out.

He would sometimes pass Donghyuck in the corridor in the living room or on the dining room late at night and would ignore the rising wave of concern when he noticed the purple blooming eye bags under his eyes but refrained from asking. The tension would be too thick in the air and if Donghyuck ever opened his mouth to say something, Mark would run out of the room because he was terrified of looking at him in the eye and wondering what he would see.

Other times he would accidentally look to the side during practice and make eye contact with Donghyuck in the mirror, but he wouldn't see anything except hollow eyes that stared back at him, before they would shift away. Donghyuck was scared of Mark, he realised with a twist in gut. Donghyuck stopped trying to talk to him, became as still as a statue when he moved too close and his expression would become a tabula rasa.

And Mark would be downright cruel to ignore the fact that Donghyuck was about as okay as he was - which wasn't good. There was no denying the boy was losing sleep and losing weight and losing energy, but he would look fine everywhere else, glowing with happiness.

He would tell Renjun this, and Renjun would blink at him and sigh, before cussing him out thoroughly. "Oblivious fuck." He'd say, before ushering Mark out of the room with false promises that slid off his tongue with such ease that he would talk to Donghyuck and help him, but Cleary Donghyuck didn't want to be helped because he'd hear yells of "Mind your own business, Huang!" And it wouldn't be the friendly kind.

Mark couldn't figure out for the life of him what was wrong with Donghyuck or why he was acting like this, and even if the little demons in his head told him it was his fault and if he just manned up and apologised to Donghyuck it would be all okay, the other voices would tell him it can't be him because the boy would certainly hate him by now, heck, he would hate himself by now.

And Mark cursed himself for ever being proud of being able to tell the limits of anything when he couldn't even tell Donghyuck's. He cursed himself for being a tad bit too slow at catching the boy when his eyes rolled back into his head and his legs had given out in the middle of a choreography.

He cursed himself for everything under the goddamn sun because if he hadn't been such a senstivid jerk, such a whiny idiot, such a starstruck boy who even decided to audition, none of this would have ever happened and they wouldn't be standing in an empty hospital corridor, where he paced up and down the length, apparently white faced.

Jeno told him calmly to sit down, and when that didn't work, Jisung told him that he was scaring him and that snapped Mark out of it because the younger knew how to manipulate the soft spot the older had for him. "I'm sorry." Mark whispered, but he didn't know who he was saying it to or what he was saying it for, merely collapsing onto the bench with his face buried in his palms in an attempt to muffle the ragged breathing that came before a storm of tears.

He heard the creaking of the seat beside him, and suddenly he was enveloped in a warm hug and gentle whispers of, "We don't blame you, hyung."

Mark broke that night. He finally broke, caving into the pressure of his mistakes and pain and cried into his arms, cried into whatever shoulder was offered to him, cried until his eyes were dry and throat was raw, and then cried some more because he knew no amount of tears would ever be able to bring back Donghyuck to him, and he just wanted to be able to apologise.

"It's okay, hyung." He would hear Chenle say softly, and it would fade out to Renjun gently pressing a bottle of water and forcing him to take a few a sips which would then turn into Jaemin wiping his tears and offering his shoulder for him to sleep on, which he denied out of pure guilt because he was supposed to take care of them and be there for them, and he was being a shitty leader.

"You were suffering too, hyung." Jisung told him lightly, forcing Mark to rest his head on his shoulder, holding his hand. For his sake, he insisted, and Mark was weak so he allowed it. "You both were egoistic idiots who clearly cared about each other and not enough about yourselves. I'm sure if this hadn't happened, you would have collapsed instead. Have you seen yourself?"

No, he hasn't, but he had overheard the stylists worrying about how a few costumes were a bit looser on him than expected and fussing about how they were sure they had the right measurements and that Mark couldn't have lost weight in such a short amount of time - he thought it had been a good thing.

"Just talk to him when he wakes up, okay?" Jaemin told him soothingly. "It's been long overdue." And maybe it had, because Mark finally told the demons in his head to shut the fuck up and clear it out with his best friend.

"It's just exhaustion." The doctor told them and their worried manager, who looked equally exhausted. "The boy hasn't eaten or slept properly for a while, by the looks of it. It's possible he was under too much stress. A week of complete rest at the minimum should do him some good." The doctor peered at Mark and the others over his clipboard with narrowed eyes, before saying firmly, "I understand you have a comeback ahead of you, and I wish you the best of luck, but I'd rather not see you boys here again. While this may be your job, your health is far more important, and you boys don't look too far off from collapsing either."

To be very honest, Jisung looked like he was going to burst into tears at that comment, and Mark could only just hug him, because to have someone care in an industry that wished for you to mold your body to their expectations was rare and it was heart-warming to the point they felt their heart was burning in flames.

"When he will he be awake?" Mark croaked out, looking up at the doctor who gave him a weary smile. "Soon, I'm assuming. We'll let you know when he's awake."

And just like that, within a few hours, a nurse came hurrying down the corridor maybe at about two am, looking tired. "Mark Lee." She called out, and Mark jerked out of the light sleep he'd managed to fall into, standing up dazedly, blinking. "The patient specifically called for you." The nurse said, covering her mouth with a yawn. Renjun stirred beside him, being a light sleeper himself, and gave Mark an encouraging nod. "Don't fuck it up," He called out, and Mark winced at the echo, but nodded anyways as he followed the nurse towards the room. She stayed out, keeping the door partially ajar, and Mark turned to look at the boy on the bed, sitting up with his gaze on him.

He walked over quietly, the only sound being the clacking of his shoes against the tiled floor. He drew up a chair and sat down silently, eyes focused on the blanket that Donghyuck was bunching up in his hands.

"You should take care of yourself." Mark said quietly, immediately wincing at his own words. Donghyuck let out a dry chuckle, raw and bitter. "That's the first thing you've said to me after months, and it's a scolding."

The first thing that came to the top of tongue was a defensive retort - how it applied to all of them, how it was more important than ever because they had a comeback and how this would hold the team back.

When Mark looked up, finally looking Donghyuck in the eyes after months, (had his eyes always been the color of coffee?) he saw from the fractured, defeated look that it was what Donghyuck was expecting from him. An attempt at reconciliation that would end in defeat, just another part of the cycle Mark tried to end but unknowingly started a new one of ignoring and then pain.

He didn't want that. Don't fuck it up.

He clenched his fists, swallowing, before lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry." He choked out, the words coming out muffled at first over the lump in his throat, but the the dam broke and a tear rolled down.

"I'm so fucking sorry," He sobbed, the heels of his palms coming to cover his eyes but Donghyuck caught his wrists and pulled them away from his face. Mark was vulnerable in front of him, red and puffy in the face, and for the first time in ages, Mark managed to actually look at him, seeing the tear tracks and the eyes bags and the chewed up lips and everything else visible and not. He reached over, and pulled him in for a hug. "Hyung loves you, Hyuck - ah." Mark sobbed as he held on tightly, as if the thin figure of bones and skin would disappear like sand through his fingertips if he wasn't careful, and when Donghyuck let out a muffled cry, his heart broke.

He didn't know how long he had spent there, holding the tired boy for ages until his arms ached and even then he pushed through because it was the least he owed Donghyuck.

He held him tight and promised he'd never let him go because even after everything, Mark wanted to see his smile and hear his laugh and press his lips to his own, even if he could never do the latter. Mark still loved Lee Donghyuck, and would give up every organ his body and every idea, thought, anything of value in his soul for the boy, whether it be for something trivial or something huge, because he realised that without Donghyuck, he was sad, hurt and angry.

He loved Lee Donghyuck, and it had taken them a while to fall back into a new dynamic, where they would talk and love and tease but cherish, and that was what mattered. And Mark was grateful it worked out in the end, because here he was with his best friend on the midnight of his twenty second birthday, being asked about one of his favorite memories of all time.

"Of course I remember that." He huffed out, and Donghyuck laughed lightly into the juncture where his neck met his shoulder, making goosebumps rise on the bare skin. Suddenly, Mark wished he hadn't worn a tank top to bed.

"You never told me who your meadow boy was." The younger said quietly, fiddling with a loose thread on the front of Mark's shirt, and Mark was sure the other heard his breath hitch. "Wasn't that the point, though?" He asked after a pregnant pause. "It's supposed to remain a secret."

Donghyuck snorted. "You know me, hyung." He batted his eyes innocently at the older. "I always want to know everything. Plus, I already know Jaemin's and Chenle's." "They still remember it?" Mark asked, impressed. Donghyuck looked up, an eyebrow quirked up as he looked baffled. "Of course they do," He said incredulously. "We still use the nickname all the time. I'm pretty sure we follow around our meadow boy all the time, too."

Mark shrugged as much as he could in the compromising position, arms still tightly wrapped around Donghyuck. After his reinstatement to Dream, although he had visited them, he'd never lived with them like he had before. It wasn't a huge surprise he was out of the loop.

"Jaemin's meadow boy is Jisung." Donghyuck giggled. "It's so obvious, if you think of it. No wonder he got attached so far." Mark hummed out a response, fingers tracing out patterns on the other's back absentmindedly. "And Chenle's is Jeno."

"Who was yours?" Mark looked down at the younger, who snuggled closer, every ridge and valley lining up, and he didn't feel so cold without the blanket anymore. "Renjun." Donghyuck whispered. "Mhm." Mark hummed, eyes fixed on the wall behind the younger.

"Yours?" Donghyuck asked again, and Mark stiffened, before relaxing. "You." He breathed out. He felt Donghyuck tense in his arms, before he was shifted lightly, the younger squirming out of his grasp and pushing him flat on his back, making Mark let out a noise of surprise. Donghyuck swung himself over, knees planted on either side of Mark’s hips. “Donghyuck-” He breathed out, but the younger was faster. “Can you give your meadow boy one wish, then?” He asked softly, fingers intertwining with Mark’s. The older felt his breathing speed up, swallowing lightly as he nodded.

Donghyuck smiled, leaning down slowly. "Can I have a kiss?" He asked softly, hot breath ghosting over Mark's lips, and he exhaled softly. "Yeah." Mark got out, fire racing up his limbs, heartbeat picking up, hands coming to grasp the younger by his waist as he leaned down.

Donghyuck pressed their mouths together tentatively, almost like a gentle breeze that was gone too fast, before Mark tugged him down again, a hand now cupping his face.

The younger tasted faintly of the hot cocoa Johnny had made as dessert after finding some random recipe on Google and the minty tang of toothpaste. Mark really didn't mind it at all, fingers carding through his hair as Donghyuck balanced himself by placing his arms on either side of Mark's head.

When Donghyuck pulled away, breathless his pupils were full blown, dilated save for the outer ring of coffee, a rosy tinge to cheeks barely visible to Mark, and red ears.

"Happy birthday, Lee Mark." He whispered softly. "I love you." And if Mark even notices that his heart skips several beats, he gives no sign of recognition, merely staring at Donghyuck dumbfounded and tongue tied, a hand still in his hair and the other on his waist, and he wondered how he still had a hold on the boy's heart.

Don't fuck it up.

He let out a breath, surging up and capturing the other's lips again in a deeper kiss, all tongue and teeth and everything else, trying to say everything he couldn't for years in one simple gesture. When he pulled away, he was breathless too, resting his forehead against the Donghyuck's, eyes briefly fluttering shut before opening again, as he stared in coffee ringed eyes, claiming his lips again with the ghost of a whisper.

"I love you too, my meadow boy."

#markhyuck #happy birthday Mark Lee #loml #angst #fluff #slowburn #they're idiots #markhyuck summer fight #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #idol life #idol life ship #alternative universe #au #Mark lee #Donghyuck Lee #Haechan

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irtza · 4 years

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MEADOW BOYS

genre: fluff, angst

pairing: MarkHyuck

cross posted on wattpad (addzthetic) and ao3 (ncteazz)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MORKLES ILY

Mark always liked the story of Peter Pan. The idea of never having to grow up appealed to his eight year old self, it appealed to his eleven year old self, and it appeals to his twenty two year old self. He wanted to know what it felt like to never age, to see the world from the glassy doe eyes of a youth. To always prance around with stable limbs and laugh with nefarious smiles that adults would label troublemakers.

He didn't have a childhood, at least, not a conventionally normal one. "Ten hours of studying or ten hours of practice everyday, Minhyung?" His mother had asked him seriously, when he came with stars in his eyes and a slur of syllables tumbling from his mouth about how he passed, he passed some random audition for one of the biggest music companies in Korea, and they told him he could be a star.

He'd chosen the latter, moved halfway across the world without a single goodbye to friends he had held dear, but not dear enough to give up a dream of stardom and fame and love.

Sometimes, his sixteen year old self would slump over his desk, too worn out to continue studying, because reading Korean was literally the hardest thing ever, and he would wonder how life would be if he hadn't come to SM. If he hadn't met Johnny, who calmed him down when he'd nearly had a meltdown on how he struggled with basic Korean. He wondered how it would have been back in Vancouver, where he would probably still be up at four am, probably studying calculus instead of some stupid grammar rules.

He wondered how life would have been if he hadn't met them. Six little boys he had come to adore as he continued to train and train and train, breaths fogging up the mirror in the practice room and clothes drenched in sweat.

Renjun would study with him, sometimes. He'd make a snarky comment in broken English that would make Mark giggle. Having a conversation with Renjun in Korean wasn't so bad, at least they couldn't really make fun of each other.

Jeno was sweet. When he smiled his eyes would turn into crescent moons and his little cheeks would puff out. Mark didn't find many things cute, but Jeno's smile was probably the only thing he'd melt at. Jaemin was a literal ray of sunshine - he was the cause of Jeno's smile half the time, and was the cause of Mark's own the rest of it. He was cheerful, lively, sweet and loving. He was loud and caring and extremely touchy.

And then, there was Jisung. Jisung was a baby, a literal baby, far younger than Mark had been when he joined. He was thirteen, and so, so delicate. Mark was surprised when he saw Jisung's popping skills, though. The kid had more power than he let on - but that was probably only in dance. If he were to punch Mark, a bruise would form from how bony he was, not really because he was strong.

Chenle had joined them a little late - he literally learnt Korean with the help of Google Translate, Park Jisung, and the occasional lessons from a tutor. Mark couldn’t have been prouder of the small boy with chubby chins, curly hair and a high pitched voice.

And lastly, Donghyuck.

Donghyuck was a literal menace and that was something Mark would say with absolute conviction, a tone of finality in his voice, and no, he would not take constructive criticism. Donghyuck Lee was charming, funny, cute, and so, so very annoying.

Mark threatened to leave SM because of him, and while the boy hadn't taken him too seriously, he had half his mind made up to pack his bags that night and ask to move out the dorm. One week, when their arguments would get really bad, he went to sleep praying every night that whichever group he debuted in, it would be as far away from Lee Donghyuck as it could be.

It was almost funny, looking back on it. He had debuted with the kid twice, and he’d made it much higher than he had ever expected. But even for a celebrity, he found his situation a little sad.

Mark was twenty two, lying in bed, alone on the midnight of his birthday. The others were fast asleep, and all he could think about was how good it must be for them to actually get a day off. He didn't want to check his social media, but he was sure the official NCT social media had already posted a pre-lined up message wishing him happy birthday, followed by dozens of replies from fans.

It was surreal to think about how many people he had caring about a day he had considered to be not too special. Sure back in Vancouver it was a day he was the center of attention, and in Korea, it was the day all his older and younger members made him the happiest - but in the end, it was just like any other day. He would have to practice his rapping, singing, dancing and would go for image training.

The creaking of the bedroom door got his attention, his eyes moving over the silhouette that entered the room as silently as it could. The door was pressed shut, the padded sounds of socked feet over the floor was heard. The edge of the mattress dipped slightly under the weight of the figure, and then he felt the warmth of a body laying next to him, an arm over his waist and a head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, hot breath ghosting over the skin.

"Happy birthday, Lee Mark." Donghyuck yawned, pressing himself closer to the older. On a normal day, Mark would turn pink, blush, stutter and push the boy away.

Maybe he was feeling particularly bold. Maybe he was just feeling nostalgic, or maybe he was feeling alone. He found no reason to justify why he just turned around in Donghyuck's grasp, eyes lazily tracing features that he had hated at some point, learnt to adore and admire at another, and then grown to love.

What a journey, he mused internally as he tucked Donghyuck's head under his chin, feeling the half asleep younger sigh softly. "Why are you awake?" He asked, mild concern bleeding through the curiosity. Donghyuck shifted in his grasp, eyes peeking at him through the strands of violet purple which faded to brown that fell into his eyes.

"Figured you'd be up." He rasped out, blinking. "Sorry, if we were with Dream maybe we could have gotten a cake."

Mark stared at him, the tanned skin flowing softly in the faded, blurred out light, the sharp featured a soft haze without his glasses. "It's okay." He found himself saying, watching as the other nestled back comfortably in his arms.

The silence was comforting - it was a rare thing to hear when Donghyuck was around, the younger having the tendency to fill empty spaces with his presence, whether knowingly or not. "Do you remember," The soft question came. "Do you remember that meadow boy promise we made?"

Mark's lips curved upwards into a smile at that.

He remembered when Donghyuck had to stay at home for a while when the younger had hurt his leg. It had taken a toll on them all. He'd never realised how much the entirety of Dream relied on Donghyuck's loud voice filling the practice room on the wee hours of the morning to keep them going, how much they needed to hear him whine in the morning, how much they actually appreciated the kisses and hugs they always shoved away.

So when Jisung quietly suggested they visit him in Jeju whenever they had their next trip, Mark had more than wholeheartedly agreed.

When they'd landed, Donghyuck's mother brought them home. The ride back had been cramped, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. She'd tried to dissipate it by telling them how much Donghyuck had missed them, but refused to admit it. He didn't know they were coming - they wanted to surprise him.

Although her words were meant to be comforting, Mark hadn't been able to shake the uneasy feeling that Donghyuck might not react too well.

The boy was a perfectionist, someone who always showed a bubbly, bright image. Never ever would you catch him slipping up, something he was proud of. Haechan was a façade, untouchable, unattainable, unbreakable. But Lee Donghyuck was something more vulnerable, and Mark wondered how much of the time they had spent together was with Donghyuck himself.

He just wanted a smile.

Instead, he got a good fifteen seconds of a wide eyed stare, before Donghyuck burst into tears. Mark had never been good with dealing with crying people, and the memes on twitter would tell you the same.

He panicked, but Jaemin had already gotten to work, gathering up the mess of a boy in his arms and whispered hushed words that were meant to soothe. Mark supposed he was the best person for the job - after all, Jaemjn suffered the same fate Donghyuck had, but for far, far longer.

When he had calmed down, he'd taken them around his family home. It was beautiful, ethereal, a slice out of a fairy tale, and reminded Mark of all the stories his mother had read to him as a child. It was beautiful, all red bricks with a winding staircase to the second floor and small bedrooms. Narrow and cramped but seemingly so spacious with the open windows and fluttering curtains. He felt like he'd stepped out of his own reality, and entered Donghyuck's. He found that he didn't mind it that much.

That's when his mother had the brilliant idea of them camping out in the backyard. It was a cool night, with no signs of any storm that could ravage the island's serenity. The seven of them found themselves crowded around a crackling fire half an hour later, with Donghyuck's mother poking her head out the back door intermittently until Donghyuck shooed her away lovingly seating himself back down on the log beside Mark.

That was where he'd told them about his favorite tale - the one about the boy who never grew up, who searched for a mother for his little Lost Boys, who fought and won time and time against the villainous pirate, Captain Hook, and who eventually, had to let people go. He didn't want to be an adult, and he could tell the others didn't want to grow up either.

He now had a valid reason for not wanting to age - their future was safe so long as they had each other until the title of being NCT Dream, didn't they? Once they graduated, their entertainment's plans for them were up in the air. Mark didn't want to think of how long he'd have to wait to see any of them debut again under NCT.

Peter Pan, the story of a boy who never ever wanted to grow up. There was nothing great in being an adult, reasoned the character, and sometimes Mark would agree.

"If you're our oldest," Jaemin had suggested, the reflection of the cinders of the fire dancing in his eyes and making it look like he had an entire galaxy in his eyes. "Will you be our Peter Pan?"

"And we'd be your Lost Boys!" Chenle had cheered in agreement, the two of them high fiving each other (the edge of Chenle's cardigan nearly caught on fire when he leaned over, but for the sake of not ruining the moment, none of them mentioned anything.)

"Be a little more original, Chenle-yah." Donghyuck snorted, shaking his head. "There's no need to copy straight from the fairy tale." His eyes ran over the entire group, before resting on Mark. The latter felt arcs of electricity race up his spine when their gazes met.

Mark firmly ignored the tingling sensation.

"If Mark hyung is our leader," He said, leaning forward, "We could be his little meadow boys."

"That's even worse than lost boys," Renjun had retorted. "But it makes sense!" Donghyuck had protested, and managed to lay out several points about why their personalities all fit into aspects of a meadow. "Jisung is like an ant, Jaemin is like a strawberry you'd find, Chenle is like the grass, Jeno is like the earth, I'm a sunflower, Renjun is mom existent and Mark hyung is our sky!"

Those were the stupidest reasons he'd ever heard. But, somehow, Mark couldn't bring himself to let the younger know that. Maybe it had something to do with having seen the boy after so long, the lingering sadness that his best friend wasn't with him when he'd been used to his constant presence. Or maybe it had something to do how stunning he looked in the burnt orange hues thrown out casually by the fire. Donghyuck looked real, human, with blemished skin and chubby cheeks and a bad posture, and maybe it was because Mark was so used to being surrounded by perfection, striving for perfection, that he was so attracted to something raw.

"Alright, then." He broke the loud argument that had started amongst the younger ones. "Meadow boys it is."

Donghyuck had let out a huge cheer, practically throwing himself onto Mark, who swore a little too loudly before threatening to toss him into the fire. "Mark hyung is the best!" Donghyuck had teased mockingly, pinching the older's cheeks while Mark swatted his hands away.

He saw Renjun roll his eyes and heard Chenle scream with laughter, but really, it was the genuine happiness in Donghyuck's eyes that made him decide it really was worth it. Whatever he was doing with these boys, seeing them smile and laugh and live was worth it.

He'd do anything to keep this moment frozen in time, where they were secluded in the backyard of a house, on an island far away from prowlers in a company that controlled them like puppets on a string, where they were safe and euphoric.

They made a promise that night over the dying embers of their makeshift campfire, that these little meadow boys with lean bodies and dazzling smiles would protect each other, stick by each other no matter what.

As a fun side game, they wrote their names of chits of paper and shuffled it around. Whoever's name they got was the designated meadow boy they had to love forever. It held no real meaning to the others, but to Mark, the oldest and the unofficial leader, it was a precious burden he would love to carry forever.

Maybe it was fate, destiny, luck, some supernatural force up there, that let the name on his chit be written in form, bold letters, Donghyuck.

Not Haechan, Donghyuck. That made all the difference to him.

But life never turned out that way, did it? As Mark grew older, so did the others. He watched them all shoot up in height, lose some of the last remnants of baby fat and become leaner than ever, watched them sweat through their nights and sing their hearts out until their throats were raw and their insides were bleeding because they ripped out their souls for comeback after comeback.

As Mark grew older, he realised a lot of things too. He realised his friendship with the kids was stronger, he realised they were his home, his family, he realised that he loved them, and he started to wonder if he was realising he was in love with one of them.

It was a torturous time loop of questions he threw himself into, until the loop spread throughout his history and brought back the aggression he and his best friend had so many years ago.

Mark would rip himself away from Donghyuck after he caught himself staring for too long and then avoid the boy. After one too many harsh rejections, wounds blossomed, bloody and prominent on Donghyuck's ego too. Too many snide remarks, too much disrespect, never enough communication, and Mark would find himself on one side of the room, screaming at his meadow boy who would scream back. It was a constant loop of fight, , apologise, go to sleep, wake up, get irritated, fight again.

One discordant chord ruins an entire song - two creates a cacophony of disarray. The team felt it, and they tried to help. And while Mark knew Taeyong and Doyoung meant well, he couldn't stand the pitying looks in their eyes, because how the hell was he supposed to make them understand he hated someone he also was in love with? He learnt lines between emotions were so blurred practically non-existent.

He'd rather not have them at all.

So when the manager sat them both down at the dining table of the 127 dorm, Mark already knew what his answer would be to every question.

"Listen." The older man was tired, he could tell. Mark liked their manager - he was sweet and understanding. He tried to take some of the pressure off the kids, took them out to eat when their diets were too restrictive, made sure they were hydrated and slept well.

Maybe it came with the job, maybe it didn't. Mark didn't care, he was just grateful he had someone he could call a near parent figure. Right now, he didn't want that, though. He didn't want that condensing stare he would be given, like an older child being too immature and bratty.

He didn't want it at all, he didn't want his mistakes pointed out. He knew he couldn't handle Donghyuck from the very start- sure, they had their similarities but they were so, so different. Where Donghyuck was all sharp edges and spontaneity, Mark was all smooth curves and methodical planning. Where Donghyuck knew how to push boundaries, Mark knew which lines to toe and which ones to never cross.

Where Donghyuck was just Donghyuck, Mark was Mark and no meadow boy promise could ever change that. That's what he told himself, that's what he told Taeyong, Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, Chenle, Jisung and anyone else who asked.

That's what he told the manager when the man told them to settle their differences. "Put on a smile for the camera, boys." The older gave them a weakened smile, stress lines so very prominent. "Just talk it out behind the scenes, try to see where you're going wrong with this relationship. Friendships are hard to work out, especially in an industry where there's so much pressure and a lot of different things can come into play. But you can work it out, I know you can."

He had stood up, given them both a pat on the back, and had turned to leave, when Mark had said a quiet, "No."

Donghyuck's head had shot up, lifting his gaze from the table, but Mark refused to look at him, keeping his eyes steadily on the back of the manager, who turned slowly, looking utterly befuddled. "No?" He asked, confused.

"I'm not working anything out with him." Mark said sharply, gesturing with his chin to the boy next to him. Silence fell over the trio, and Mark heard the shuffling outside the door still, too. "Mark," The manager said softly. "Don't be like that. You're better than this."

"What if I'm not?" Mark retorted. He knew he was - he knew he was the dependable kid, the one they could turn to for being hardworking and cheerful and compliant and level headed. This wasn't like the Mark Lee they all knew, but as he had come to realise, for whatever reason it was, Lee Donghyuck drove him to the point of insanity, only to pull him back and give him hope.

Maybe Mark was jealous, maybe Mark was stupid. Maybe Mark just didn't want to be mocked or teased or disrespected by the kid anymore. He honestly couldn't even remember when this cycle of love and hate had started, but he knew that this would be where it would end. Everything between the two would end, the only string connecting their two fates would be just the brand name, the same team. Nothing else.

"I'm never going to talk to him again, unless absolutely required by the company or camera." His words came out clean, ice cold and knife sharp, and with each syllable that rolled off his tongue, he could see something more shatter in Donghyuck.

It gave him a sick sort of satisfaction, to know that the boy was finally hurting the way Mark was under his tormenting and teasing and love and everything else he presented the persona of Haechan and the reality of Donghyuck with.

"No more fights will occur, because there won't be much interaction to begin with. I will make sure it doesn't affect team dynamics, you can trust me on that." Mark stood up, giving the dumbfounded manager a stiff bow, before turning to give Donghyuck a last look. I hate you, he tried to convey. I love you so much I hate you and everything you do at this point, because it hurts me and it hurts you inevitably.

And maybe Donghyuck understood, because despite all their faults and flaws, the two connected in a way he knew he wouldn't find with someone else, the surfaces of their souls just within the reach of each other's finger tips.

He was turning his back on all of that now, because Mark was tired, and maybe Donghyuck realised that. His gaze dropped, but not before Mark caught his glassy eyes and utterly betrayed, shattered expression, like he couldn't believe Mark wasn't even willing to talk it out with him, to even attempt to mend a friendship they'd had for years.

He wasn't. He didn't want to be hurt anymore. Mark was tired, and he let them know that by wheeling around on his heel and turning his back on them.

He burst out into the corridor, the other members of 127 scrambling back with guilty expressions on their faces to avoid getting hit by the door with. Mark gave them a long look, before turning away and heading back to his room, the one he shared with Donghyuck.

That night, he moved out and began sharing a room with Doyoung instead.

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