"Hyuck, go to bed." 

 

"I am." 

 

"Not in my bed." Mark complains, shoves harsh at the younger boy who falls off of his bed with an 'oompf' and a loud thump, eyes blazing and voice like nails on a chalkboard when he curses the older boy. Leaves the room. Before all of this, the confession, the rejection, the scars to his heart Mark loved to lay in bed with Donghyuck. Even if he'd never admit it, or even show that he cared much for it, he had and still would if the pain in his own chest wasn't there when he saw Donghyuck. Watched him purse his lips, sleepy huffs and pleased sighs when Mark used to move close close close. Late in the night, always awake with the memories of before when laying in bed to sleep with Donghyuck made his blood burn. Made his skin hot and his heart fond. Like burns, unseen by the eye but felt along the body by his mind, they're there these scars to every place of him Donghyuck owned. Touched. Claimed when he'd kiss him light on the cheek, the dip in his collars and the pale flesh of his chest. 

 

Tonight, watching Donghyuck try to get close like he used to just taints the warm memories they'd had. 

 

He would like to say he's OK. 

 

After all they had never been more than friends even if it had always felt like more. 

 

Sometimes he is just fine. 

 

But even then Donghyuck comes to him. Throughout his day, still filling all the spaces Marks life had allowed Donghyuck to make theirs. Still around. Still there to remind him they aren't together. Never will be. That he's not enough no matter how many hours they spend in the day together. Nights upon nights Donghyuck had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Whispered out half awaken pleas of staying with him, to let him stay over. 

 

His scent, the citrus and fruits, the tropical colors and beach tanned skin, honey golden boy of his. All of it drenching his heart. 

 

All of this time, coming and leaving as if it meant nothing. 

 

It makes him wonder about distance. So he tries it. Makes to stay away from Donghyuck who's always comes to him because they're inevitable. Just when he begins, slowly but surely releasing soft breaths in the night, alone. Walks in the daylight with no second sun at his side. No Donghyuck, it doesn't work because he always comes back to Mark. Distance only makes him want. Need. Question. Whether or not the amount of pain he's in staying away is normal. If the face Donghyuck makes when he passes him by is supposed to feel so cold. Trying to be away from him, erase it all Mark is left lost and searching for Donghyuck when he comes home to an empty apartment and goes to work with no one to be there for him. 

 

When he he gives in, let's Donghyuck fill him full and let's his feelings spill over he realizes he's been rejected and that there is no way to reject him. There's no leaving Donghyuck at this point. When he'd given Donghyuck his confession, his soul, his strength and hope and had it all turn to gray in those hands of Donghyucks he wanted it to be over. Felt the way it all died, watched it turn to ash and chalk the floor beneath their feet. He wanted to have never known him. 

 

"So you're just, up?" Donghyuck laughs into the phone, lazy and tired. 

 

"Yeah." Mark answers. Hesitant. Honest. "I've been thinking about you." 

 

"Why do you do that to yourself?" Donghyuck asks now, sighs when Mark doesn't answer. Because he's only remembered that they have to go in early tomorrow to work. And he's thinking still. Of the pink under Donghyucks skin when Mark would hold him. Reach out for Donghyuck, brush his thumbs along those cheeks of his. Press his lips to his shoulders, hoping these kisses could reach him. When Donghyuck used to lead him on, touch him like he was precious and it all meant something. He's holding onto those times, he is. And he can feel the shake of the youngers head through the phone, doesn't need to see him to know he's biting his lower lip like he does when he's frustrated. Eyes closed, expression tortured. Mark can see it. Scars that spread like wildfire, so dark they blind him and all of it grows like the longing. 

 

Misses Donghyuck despite this cruel relationship of theirs. 

 

So he says goodnight. Blinks away tears that taste bitter, unlike those sweet times they'd had. Here on this bed when it'd been the two under the moonlight through the window and Donghyucks voice, his touch, his skin, his scent and all the fake love that would enwrap Mark and put him to sleep. 

 

Still here like phantom happenings, the bed that smells like strawberry and summertime fruit-oh how it breaks him. 

 

Still thinking. 

 

He knows for sure these things that he's feeling, the way that they are will never work. Except he's in pain. Physical, emotional pain that he'd rather pay for in tenfold then spend another day away from Donghyuck so he's sure its bad for him but-but. Later, when Donghyuck catches him on his way out of work, late after his shift and asks what his plans are. He can take a little. Says he's tired and will just turn in, hugs Donghyuck before wishing him goodnight and replaying the squeak of surprise the younger had given. The closeness. The warmth. Familiar in the worst way. Let's himself indulge in it all now so he won't regret paying the price later. It makes him miserable. All of it. This hopelessness and  this need to get away and to stay. He hates Donghyuck. Wants to hold him. Wants to take back all of those tears and words of love he'd given to the younger and beg he let Mark go. 

 

So the next day when Donghyuck catches him again and asks him, "Mark, wanna hang out at your place tomorrow since it's just...been a while, ya know?" 

 

Cold. Gray. Pain. Bittersweet, this whole thing. 

 

"Uh-yeah. Sure. Sure we can." Mark chokes out, closes his eyes hard and thinks now, like he always does that he's getting used to thinking about Donghyuck. And all these tears used to taste sweet when the younger boy still held his heart and wiped them away. 

 

Watches Donghyuck leave. 

 

Probably hadn't thought of Mark more than once today yet he'd been the only thing in the older boys head. All day. All the time. Everyday and every night. 

 

Mark hates him even more.

 

"Please let me go." He whispers.