There was a clicking of keys, and Donghyuck pushed the wooden heavy door open, trudging into the apartment, bag slung over his shoulder like a deadweight and unruly hair covering his forehead as he bent down to put his sneakers on the rack. He switched the light on, squinting under the sudden glare of the light and taking in the surroundings of his home. Their home.

He frowns. Where is he?

Dishes with telltale ‘mac n cheese’ residue were left in a dirty pile on the sink, mugs of unfinished black coffee lie overturned, leaving a dripping sound behind. Cushions on the sofa were splayed on the ground, with uncleaned laundry hanging over the armrest and lying on the carpet, anywhere but the laundry basket located not too far from the television.

Donghyuck ran a weary hand through his hair, breathing heavily through his nose. Extreme irritation and annoyance swarmed him, leaving him many ideas for creative insults and roasting for his one and only precious Mark Lee.

“Oh, he’s going to get it good from me,” he muses to himself, gingerly picking up the laundry. “I leave for a week and the house looks like a trainwreck? And he still has the nerve to talk about starting a family, boy can’t even take care of himself,” he mutters as he attempts to fix the chaos Mark had instigated in their house just by simply existing.

Donghyuck had left their apartment in Seoul for about a week to embark on a new project with an up-and-coming idol group, producing tracks and overseeing their recording sessions. He had long resigned to the fact that he would have to constantly leave Mark and the house behind in order to pursue his dream career as a singer-songwriter, but that did not make leaving home any less difficult. On lonely nights, lying in a single bed in some dusty motel he could only afford, he pined for the warmth and comfort of their double bed, the plushy comforter, and most of all, Mark. His warm embrace, the comfort of being in his arms, and listening to his steady heartbeat as he slept, and how their bodies perfectly fit each other as they lay, like two pieces of a puzzle, completing one another. He missed the daily bantering and joking around, and the occasional roasting of one another as Donghyuck attempted to make their home a little more habitable while Mark’s habits made it clear he wasn’t interested in anything related to housekeeping. Alone, without his daily presence, all Donghyuck could rely on were the frequent texts Mark would send regarding how his new mixtape was coming along, and teasing Donghyuck on whether he missed him the whole time he was away. Yes I do, he thinks to himself. You have no idea how much I do.

But now Donghyuck’s drained and tired self could only muster enough energy to feel irritation and annoyance at how unkempt the state of the house was, focusing only on how much he would love to give Mark an earful about how he needs to pull his weight to keep their household together, and how much he wants a real good night’s sleep. The past week had been extremely mentally and physically draining, with the head producer being ruthless and merciless in his ‘feedback’ of Donghyuck’s compositions, and recording sessions going less than ideally with the group he was working with.

Donghyuck opened the door to their shared bedroom, a series of nagging and lyrically genius insults ready on his lips, before the scene before him died in his throat. Several candlelights were set up on the dresser, with clumsy cut-outs spelling “Welcome home, babe” hung above them. A large bouquet of ostentatiously yellow roses - his favourite - lay on the dresser. The welcome gesture, mellowed him immediately, making him feel a weird lump in his throat that he was desperately trying to fight down.

His gaze shifted onto the sleeping figure on the bed. Mark was deep in sleep, limbs entangled in their comforter, cheek squished against the pillow, leaving marks on his jaw and cheek. His breathing was slow and deep, indicating that he had been asleep for quite some time, probably staying up to wait for Donghyuck to come home, not expecting him at such an ungodly hour. A whirl of emotions swarmed his heart - love, affection and adoration all at once. Immediately he strode over to his lover’s sleeping figure, bending over him and kissing him at the corner of his mouth. He shifted Mark’s hair away from his eyes, and gently pecked him again on the forehead.

He turned away to leave the room and take a quick shower, before he felt a warm, familiar hand on his wrist, pulling him back. He turned around, and saw Mark’s bleary eyes, wearing a sleepy smile, the lines of his face seemingly overjoyed to see Donghyuck before him.

“Hyuck, you’re back,” he murmured, voice deep and raspy, heavy with sleep. Donghyuck flushes, as he allows the sound of his voice to fill his ears again, like a lullaby, filling his lungs, his heart, causing his breath to hitch.

“Yeah,” was all Donghyuck could manage, his musings about the untidiness of the house long forgotten as he felt Mark pull his towards the mattress.

“Wait a minute, I haven’t showered yet,” Donghyuck laughed, barely resisting Mark’s efforts to tug him to the bed.

“Nah, I don’t care, just lemme hug you again,” said Mark as he pulls Donghyuck into his arms.

Donghyuck closed his eyes as he breathed in his scent again, burying his face into his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat again, a lullaby he was so used to hearing every night. Mark’s hands s around Donghyuck’s waist, tightening his hold on it instinctively, his touch burning through Donghyuck’s skin, setting fire to his heart. He lightly pecked him on the forehead, gazing into the younger’s eyes, a content smile on his face.

Donghyuck had always been tsundere about his love for Mark, but no one can deny how much the boy is a fool for him whenever he looks at him with his heart in his eyes and lips, and how his eyes would light up in half moons whenever Mark said anything remotely funny to him. He never openly declared his love for him, but the elder knew, well enough by the hugs that lasted too long, and the little pecks the younger would always initiate. Donghyuck, never had to say those three words, but Mark had always known, and that was all he needed.

“I missed you,” Donghyuck managed to cough out, all his weariness from the past week and his happiness at finally being home culminating in a lump in his throat, threatening to result in tears.

Of course, Mark couldn’t miss the crumpled expression on Donghyuck’s face. Not even needing to ask, he understood immediately the pain and weariness that he must have went through the whole time he was gone. Mark lifted Donghyuck’s face a little by his chin, taking in his eyes that were shining with unshed tears, and the biting of his lower lip in an effort not to cry. Mark leant in, kissing Donghyuck slowly, and tightening his hold on his waist. He felt Donghyuck breathe a little sigh and sensed his tears being released with the wetness on his cheeks, as he felt the younger’s lips move against his. Donghyuck’s breath hitched as he felt Mark’s touch burn on his skin as he lightly and comfortingly his back, lips never leaving his.

When they broke apart, Donghyuck felt Mark wipe away his tears as he snuggled up to him, shower long forgotten. Donghyuck’s hand blindly searched for Mark’s under the comforter and intertwined their fingers upon meeting them. He breathed a contented sigh, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

This feels like home.

You are home.