Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So I’ll go back to L.A., and the so-called friends 

who’ll write books about me if I ever make it

And wonder about the only soul

who can tell which smiles I’m faking

three

[2019]

Johnny walked around Central Park alone with a vlog camera, trying to capture footage for JCC. He wanted to do a one-year anniversary episode, wanted to celebrate American Thanksgiving in America and bring that shit full circle, but nothing was coming to him. The stuff they shot at the Macy’s Parade would be used for other official NCT 127 content, but Johnny had been too busy getting ready and performing to nab any vlog footage. 

Johnny managed to take some nice shots of the park, looking like the epitome of fall with dead grass and barren trees and dead leaves being swept about by gusts of wind, and even with everything dead and brown and desaturated – it was still so beautiful. It would be good b-roll, if Johnny could manage to actually film real content. When he was planning this outing, he’d been so excited for the chance to wander around a park without a manager or security guard hanging over his shoulder.

Now, Johnny wished he had some company. He tried about five times to shoot an intro, welcoming johfam to NYC and beautiful, cold, Central Park in November, but everything felt stilted. Unnatural. Johnny’s smile was too forced; his voice too flat. It wasn’t viable footage.

Well. If nothing else, at least Johnny finagled a great episode out of his visit to Northbrook. He knew fans were going to absolutely devour the content of him and Doyoung wandering around Target like it was some sort of promised land, of them in the dark car together, getting ready for their sleepover. Fans would love the shots of them on the swings at his old playground – even if they wouldn’t know that Mark was actually the cameraman for those. They would assume it was a manager, and that’s the party line if it ever comes up. But Johnny knew the truth. He remembered.

He remembered Mark glancing up from the viewfinder, catching Johnny staring at him. Mark grinning back, white teeth glinting in the dark, mouth barely illuminated by the faint glow of the camera screen. He remembered Mark helplessly trying to muffle his laughter, trying not to chatter away like he usually did, so that he wouldn’t be heard in the background. Johnny remembered how charmed Doyoung was by Mark, even while he pretended to be stoic and cool.

Whatever. Johnny was fairly confident his fans would rather have that episode of Johnny playing hometown hero for twenty minutes than one where he aimlessly wandered alone around the most famous park in the world on a day meant for gratitude, talking about a holiday meant for spending time with family and friends.

Johnny shoved the vlog camera and selfie stick back into his messenger bag with a sigh, and dug out the film camera he had snuck in there. He got some shots of random statues, horses clattering past, stone buildings that popped up out of nowhere and were slowly becoming one with the landscape, covered in moss. Finally, Johnny laid on his back and snapped a picture of the tree branches, cutting across a gray sky like slashes through a canvas.

God, he missed Mark. Johnny didn’t even know why it was hitting him like this; a sharp stitch in his mind and a dull ache through his fingers. But he wished Mark was here.

… 

It’s radio silence from there. The JCC episode gets uploaded, and Johnny doesn’t text Mark the link, and Mark doesn’t call him to squeal over all the parts he filmed or was hiding in the backseat during. Johnny flies back over the Pacific, and he doesn’t send Mark the pictures he took from the plane window. Johnny doesn’t receive any pictures of the fattest squirrels on campus, and he doesn’t send Mark the video of his new personal best lift. His conversation thread with Mark sits barren, slowly getting pushed down by others until it’s no longer in the preview list when Johnny opens the app. Johnny’s recent Skype log is only his parents’ names. 

Johnny had never known the absence of something could feel so impossibly heavy.

… 

Johnny started scheduling the meet-up with Ten while 127 is still in the States, not willing to leave their schedules up to chance. It’d been ages since he got to spend any time with him, any time together a fucking hard-won battle, but Johnny had been determined to make it happen stat. 

Of course, now he was regretting that.

“You’re being weird,” Ten told him bluntly, sucking a mouthful of soup loudly from his spoon. “What’s wrong.”

“I’m being weird?” Johnny asked, raising an eyebrow at the jacket Ten had donned for what was supposed to be a low-key lunch. Ten rolled his eyes, slurping up another spoonful loudly just to get on Johnny’s nerves. “I’m being normal, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hm. It’s weird how defensive you’re being about getting called weird,” Ten told him playfully, corners of his mouth pulling up into a cat-like grin. “No, seriously, Johnny. I know something is up. You haven’t even mentioned getting to go home in Chicago yet. I was expecting a play-by-play off the bat, but it’s like you’re not even happy about it!”

Fuck. Johnny cringed, knowing he’d been caught out. “Can’t we talk about your problems?” he asked, somewhat desperately. He shoved his food around on his plate. Ten smiled wryly at him, perfectly curved nose tipping up in the air.

“I have none, thank you so much,” he sniffed. Johnny snorted, arching a knowing eyebrow. Trust Ten to take the edge off when Johnny was beginning to edge into ‘hysterical’. His best friend cracked a smile, knocking his pointy elbow into Johnny’s ribs. “Alright, fine. You can slither out of it for now! But once we’ve discussed my six-point plan for revenge against Kun, it’s back to Johnny-time.”

“What did Kun even do?”

Ten sighed loudly, rolling his eyes expansively. “Well, you see, Johnathan…”

By the end of it, Johnny was still a bit in the dark as to what, exactly, Kun had done to Ten to warrant such cold-blooded retaliation, but admittedly he did feel better after listening to Ten rant about it for the better part of fifteen minutes, egging him on unhelpfully with every suggestion of petty revenge. 

By the time Ten had started to lose steam, their meals were done. Johnny ordered yaksik, taking advantage of this brief window between touring and cutting for the next comeback. Ten eyed it suspiciously, seeing the fruit chunks peeking out. “Also, remind me to tell you about what happened Saturday, because you would not believe what Yangyang tried to tell me after,” he finished, taking a long sip of water. Johnny hummed, shoving a bite into his mouth. He knew what was coming now, but maybe if his mouth was full Ten wouldn’t ask. 

Ten was not deterred. “What happened when you went back home? Are your parents well?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, meeting Ten’s concerned eyes for a second. He looked away quickly, back down at his dessert. 

“I’m glad.” Ten’s voice was warm and sincere. He kicked Johnny's shin gently under the table. “How’s Mark?”

“Why are you asking about Mark?” Johnny grumbled, unable to stop himself. He tried to rein in the instinctive scowl, but it was too late. Ten pounced on it.

“Oh, so it is something with Mark. Okay.” He nodded, resting his chin on his fingertips thoughtfully.

“Why do you think it’s something with Mark?” Johnny asked, voice taking on a whiny quality. “It could be something else!”

“Well, for one thing, you wouldn’t shut up about how excited you were to see Mark for weeks before you left, but didn’t even say his name until I brought him up just now,” Ten told him wryly. Johnny huffed, conceding the point. “What happened, Johnny? Really. You know I’m on your side, no matter what.”

“I know,” Johnny whispered, but a ball of shame still twisted in his gut. He put his chopsticks down, rubbing at the spot between his brows that had been carrying so much tension lately. “Okay, fine. I fought with Mark. It was so stupid. It was over nothing, I can’t believe we blew up the way we did. It was bad, Tennie, really bad. We were both… mean. Really mean. And we haven’t talked since.”

“Well, shit,” Ten said succinctly. Johnny nodded despondently. That about summed the whole thing up. “What was it about?” 

“Seriously, it was nothing. I don’t know. His roommate is paying all the rent on this super fancy apartment they have, and Mark never told me. And he was so different around his friends when they came to the show. I’ve never seen him act like that before.”

“You’ve never seen him with his friends from college before, though.”

“I mean, I haven’t seen him for years, period. I don’t know what I was expecting.” Johnny sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. He poked at the sweet rice cake. “I knew he wasn’t a baby anymore, but seriously Ten. Him on video calls with me versus him around others… It was like two different people.”

“And you’re sad about that?” Ten asked, no judgment in his tone. “Or are you angry?”

“I don’t know. Both, maybe? Disappointed? Whatever. I have no place to be feeling any kind of way about it. Mark made that perfectly clear.” Johnny’s lips twisted up at the memory. Ten slumped over sympathetically, wrapping his hand around Johnny’s wrist.

“Do you want me to try to be helpful, or do you just wanna trash him?” Ten asked plainly. It startled a giggle out of Johnny, and Ten smiled at him.

“I don’t wanna trash him,” Johnny admitted, although there was a small part of him that found the prospect immensely appealing. “He didn’t do anything terrible. I just want our friendship back, but I’m not sure where to go from here. We haven’t talked for a month.”

“Well, I can’t tell you how to fix it, but maybe I can tell you what your problem is,” Ten offered. Johnny raised his eyebrows at the phrasing, tilting his head in confusion. Ten tried to clarify. “Sorry, I just meant that it seems like you don’t even know why you fought. You can’t really fix things without knowing what the real problem is.”

Johnny had his doubts about that, but he gestured for Ten to go on.

“Johnny… when you first came to the company, you talked about your friends at home a lot . And people always wanted to ask you what it was like, growing up in America,” Ten began, inching around the table until he was sliding into Johnny’s booth, pressing against his side like a physical support. He wrapped an arm around Johnny’s shoulders. “And you mentioned a Mark in a lot of those stories. When I asked you who he was, you told me he was basically your little brother.”

Ah. Yeah, Johnny remembered that. He smiled fondly at the memory of showing Ten some old pictures he had downloaded from his parents’ computer onto his phone. He tipped their heads together gently.

“Well… You stopped talking about your friends from home so much, eventually,” Ten continued, rubbing Johnny’s bicep like he was an animal who needed to be soothed. “We all do, I guess. But you still talked about Mark.”

Johnny hummed, and wracked his brain. He supposed that was true. Sometimes he’d tell the members about something funny that had happened to Mark (mild disaster followed the kid like a puppy), or give updates on his parents gleaned via Mark.

“You talk about him all the time, Johnny.” Ten was speaking so softly now. His words hung heavy in the air, weighted even delivered as a whisper. “And when Donghyuck asked who he was, after we had debuted and he had suffered through enough of your anecdotes to be curious –”

“Shut up, you all love listening to me talk.” Desperate to break the odd tension hovering in the air, Johnny elbowed Ten’s ribs. The angle didn’t allow him to dig in good. He was roundly ignored.

“ Anyways. That time, when you told him about Mark, you said Mark was your best friend from home,” Ten finished, poking Johnny’s thigh with his free hand, with rather unnecessary force, frankly.

“He is,” Johnny muttered, fighting the urge to shift uncomfortably. The hard backed booth felt cold and unyielding behind him. He didn’t know why he felt so ill-at-ease. Ten made a shushing noise of agreement, cuddling Johnny into him even more insistently. There really was nothing like a good Ten cuddle, and Johnny relaxed into it. He was starting to feel drowsy when Ten broke the peaceful quiet between them.

“You changed how you saw Mark once already, Johnny,” he whispered, moving his hand to rest atop Johnny’s head, smoothing his hair down. “You might be changing it again.”

And that made Johnny’s insides twist up. He gritted his teeth, and pretended he hadn’t heard Ten.

Ten let him. For now, he let him.

…

Johnny tried his hardest not to think on what Ten had told him. It was easy enough to do, 127 was starting to record for their next full album, constantly stuck in strategy meetings about how to win over their home audience this time. There were the outfit fittings for the end of year award shows, all the holiday content filming. But in the moments in-between, the rare chances Johnny had to breathe, he thought about it. He turned it over in his mind, again and again, until its edges were starting to feel smooth enough to touch.

Really, the problem was this: Johnny didn’t want to change how he saw Mark. As a rule, he loved change. Thrived on it, even. Loved trying new things, going new places, meeting new people. But everyone wants something constant, he thinks. That wasn't so unreasonable, was it?

And for Johnny, something constant was home. It was Northbrook, and how he crystallized it in memory. It’s how his parents’ house always smells the same when he walks in, no matter how long it’s been. It’s how his room hasn’t been touched since he decorated it freshman year of high school. It’s how he still knows all the roads around his neighborhood and old schools, still knows the four different routes he could take to get into Chicago proper from his house. It’s how his elementary school looks the same, the swings he jumped off and the blacktop he scraped his knees on still there.

It’s how the Lee’s still live three houses down and across the street.

And it’s Mark. Mark has never left Johnny. Mark has never forgotten about him, or outgrown him, or dropped out of contact with him. Mark won’t let Johnny outgrow him. Mark won’t let Johnny leave him behind. Mark held tightly to their friendship, put in the work to maintain it. And Johnny gave him that energy back now, he would like to think. He put in the work, too. Their friendship was special to him, and Johnny treated it as such, with the care it deserved.

Neither of them could say that they were treating their relationship with much respect or care right now, of course.

Maybe Johnny should reach out and apologize about the things he’d flung in Mark’s face. Maybe he should suck it up and take back the accusations he’d leveled in his anger.

Johnny didn’t want to lose his constant. It might be selfish of him, but it was true. Johnny loved the way he and Mark were, the way their friendship worked. He cherished it. Johnny didn’t want to lose the Mark he had now.

Then again, maybe he already had.

Seeing Mark in Northbrook had unsettled Johnny. Had upset him, really, if he was being honest, and that wasn’t entirely on Mark. He’d loved seeing his friend, obviously, but looking at him in the flesh, taking up real live space right before Johnny’s eyes…well. It was different than a phone call, or Skype.

It was realizing that Mark wasn’t that much shorter than him anymore. Realizing that Mark had a whole host of new friends at university, ones who didn’t have older siblings Johnny had gone to high school with. Knowing that Mark wasn’t afraid to take advantage of social connections when it benefitted him, that he would gladly live rent-free if given the chance. It was the stunning revelation that Mark was a person who had sex now. Had probably had romantic relationships, even, ones that he hadn’t told Johnny about.

But the surprise of those newfound discoveries wasn’t solely on Johnny. Part of what had – fine, he’ll admit it, part of what had pissed him off so much, was realizing how much Mark kept from him about his life. How Mark had been curating their conversations and interactions. How he had kept giving Johnny what Johnny expected from Mark, excluding the parts of his life that conflicted with Johnny’s conception of him. The constant. Mark had kept trying to be a constant for Johnny, and in doing so had hid parts of himself. Knowing that made Johnny angry. Angry at himself, angry at Mark. He couldn’t even pull it apart now, what blame lay with who. He didn’t want to, anyways. Johnny didn’t want to keep picking at it, trying to untangle the strings from the messy knot they had gathered into. Better to just let it lie, a snarled heap of volatile emotions and things left unsaid.

[2020]

In the end, it was Mark who reached out first, on New Years. It was the longest he and Johnny had gone without speaking since 2013, when Mark first started high school. Johnny fumbled his phone out of his pocket, nearly cracking the screen in half as it clattered to the kitchen floor. Johnny scrambled to pick it up, frantically unlocking it. For a second, he paused. There was a red ‘1’ lurking in the corner of the green messages icon. A text, from Mark. Nearly two months after the last. Was Johnny really ready for what it might say?

He took a deep breath and clicked on the icon. The answer was yes. Johnny would take anything he could get from Mark right now. But Johnny needn’t have worried.

Mark’s text was easy.

Mark: happy new year, Johnny!!!!! it’s still 2019 here haha but i hope youre having fun in the future!!! Hows the new decade?? Does it feel different?

It was an easy text to read, easy to respond to. It didn’t bring up any prickly feelings, or their prolonged silence, and it definitely didn’t mention that argument they had in Mark’s driveway, right before Johnny walked away from him and left Northbrook behind again.

Johnny: happy new years 🎉🎉

Johnny: it’s been great! We had a party up on the tenth floor so I didn’t have to clean it up. fantastic

Johnny: mom told me its fucking freezing there you BETTER be wearing gloves if you’re going out tonight !

Mark: haha of course hyung! don’t worry about me

After that, they started talking again, just as regularly as before. They didn’t mention the silence, or the fight. They didn’t talk about it at all.

And that was that.

…

Johnny was happy that he and Mark had made up. Happy enough to ignore the voice in the back of his head, the one that sounded suspiciously like his best friend. You can’t really fix things without knowing what the real problem is. Well, Johnny and Mark had fixed things up just fine, in his opinion. Mark was at the top of his recent messages, and clogging up his Skype calls feed, and chattering away on the phone for hours every couple of weeks. Sure, Johnny and Mark might not have talked about what the “real problem” had been, but maybe it hadn’t been a real problem at all. Maybe it had just been a growing pain! Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. They had made up.

So really, Johnny had been doing a great job ignoring it. And still, every so often, when sleep was hard to find, Ten’s voice echoed in his mind. “You changed how you saw Mark once already. You might be changing it again.” Johnny rolled over in his bed, too small for his lanky frame, and punched his pillow into shape. He’d heard Ten say “I told you so!” so many times that he didn’t even have to call him up to have it ringing in his ears.

February’s frantic comeback preparations rolled into March before Johnny could blink, and he could barely even process the rising wave of success until they were knee-deep in April, and preparing around the clock for a re-pack already. No one felt the stress more than Haechan, though, juggling a Dream comeback squeezed between 127 promotions on an absolutely hairpin turnaround. He became a ghost on the fifth-floor. Johnny was pretty sure his quilt was dusty from misuse, Donghyuck opting to crash at the Dream dorm more often than not. Johnny was worried about his roommate and friend, but he still fervently took advantage of being able to sleep without Haechan’s gaming noises in background. 

He took advantage of Donghyuck’s absence in other ways, too. Less wholesome ways.

Johnny refused to feel guilty as he switched to incognito mode on his phone browser, trying to find decent gay porn recommendations. Those existed, thankfully, tucked away in corners on twitter, words carefully censored out. Johnny remembered how fucking long it took to find any decent het porn, and took a moment to be grateful that porn twitter was so active. He didn’t have time to start from scratch again.

It wasn’t necessarily a surprise that he was into it – after all, Johnny probably wouldn’t have been searching it up if he wasn’t aroused by the idea – but Johnny was still a bit shocked by how fast he got to the edge. Maybe this was years of suppressed desires welling up, all of a sudden. Those urges and dreams that Johnny had tried so hard for so long not think about came rushing back in an overwhelming flood as he watched a man wearing a mask and black tank top suck off a guy until he was practically crying, toes curling in the sheets. His forearm was already getting sore from how fast he was jerking his cock, and Johnny rolled fully onto his back, planting his feet for leverage to fuck up into his own hand. His eyes screwed shut, losing himself in his jumbled up thoughts while the video played on in his ears.

It was a blur of images, fantasies running over each other like water as Johnny fucked into his fist, chasing his release. As his chest heaved, he stared up at the ceiling, feeling his cum dry sticky and disgusting on his belly. Johnny looked down at himself, horrified. There hadn’t been anything distinct, just an overwhelming cascade of want, but one thing had come up clear – every single man in Johnny’s fantasies wore Mark’s face.

He wiped himself off with a tissue and stumbled off to the bathroom, turning the shower as hot as it went and scrubbing himself clean vigorously. When he stumbled out his skin was flushed pink from the temperature, but still he shivered as he wrapped himself up in a towel. Johnny stared at his own reflection, blurry in the fogged-up mirror, and resolved to never think about this again.

… 

That summer, Mark went viral.

He’d been posting tracks to Soundcloud for a couple years, now, a mix of Korean and English, rap and pop and alternative, hard-hitting verses and soft, dreamy low-fi. Johnny followed him on there since the day the account was made. Mark had built up a decent audience over time - nearly 2,000 followers - but obviously not enough for how talented he was, in Johnny’s opinion.

Then someone on TikTok used his latest drop to choreograph a dance challenge. And it exploded.

“It’s gonna pay my tuition,” Mark informed him, smiling so brightly he couldn’t hide it behind the overlong sleeves of his neon yellow sweatshirt. “Johnny, it’s gonna pay my tuition. ”

 “You deserve it,” Johnny told him, practically smashing his forehead into the camera with how close he was leaning in. “Holy shit, you deserve it.”

Johnny sent Mark the 2 different Buzzfeed listicles he’d already seen pop up about him (Mark Lee: Five Other Tracks You Have GOT to Check Out From the Soundcloud Sensation; Breakout Soundcloud Rapper Mark Lee’s Ten Most Adorkable TikTok’s) much to Mark’s mortification.

“Oh man,” he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Johnny, stop reading those! They’re so embarrassing, fuck."

“Why?” Johnny asked, laughing loudly. He spun himself around in his desk chair, feeling giddy with the secondhand shine of Mark’s success. “Mark, you’re on k-pop stan twitter. I don’t even want to know the humiliating shit you’ve seen about me.”

“It’s really not too bad, hyung,” Mark told him earnestly, which was absolute bullshit, in Johnny’s opinion. He snorted, raising his eyebrows. Mark shot him an evil little grin,  quickly overtaken by that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth face. “Nothing humiliating, really. I mean, it’s kind of weird to see all the edits of you set to Pony, but–”

Johnny made a noise between a choke and a wheeze, feeling like he was about to die from how hard he started laughing. “Sorry, sorry! Oh my God, Mark, stop fucking watching those!”

“They autoplay!” Mark protested through his own laughter. He was doing his stretched-out laughing face, the one where his nose scrunched up and his jaw unhinged itself with how wide his mouth was open. One of Johnny’s personal favorite Mark Lee Expressions™. “I can’t help it! Some of the people I follow bias you, sorry! What can I do, tell them to stop retweeting Johnny fan edits because that’s my best friend and he’s embarrassed I’ve seen them?”

“Yes, if that would get them to stop!” Johnny finally calmed down enough to breathe again, sucking in lungfuls of oxygen. A slight stitch had popped up in his ribs. He combed his fingers through his hair, fixing how mussed it’d gotten. Johnny leaned closer to the camera again, peering keenly at Mark, who was looking a bit too smug for his tastes. “Okay, be honest. Which one is your favorite though?”

“Oh my God, shut up.”

“No, because I know you have a favorite. Send it to me.” Mark shook his head, curly hair bouncing. Johnny whined loudly, folding his hands together in supplication. “Send it to meee! Please? Pleeease?”

“You’re so annoying,” Mark sighed, settling back in his own desk chair. “If you’re gonna be like this, I won’t tell you about my other good news.”

Johnny immediately perked up, dropping the puppy-dog beg easily. “No, no, tell me! I’ll drop it now, I promise. But you have to tell me! What’s the news?” 

Mark regarded Johnny suspiciously. He straightened his back and composed his face, sitting like an angel. Mark folded like tissue paper, excited grin overtaking his mouth. He wiggled eagerly in his chair.

“Okay, so I finally heard back from SM about my internship application. Surprise of all surprises on that timing.” Mark chuckled wryly. “Along with like, five other companies. I’m accepted now.”

“Mark –” Johnny was at a loss for words, the pride swelling in his chest threatening to consume him. “Congratulations, oh my God! I’m so proud of you! You did it!”

“Well, TikTok user angel underscore perseus oh-eight did it by making a good dance challenge,” Mark said bashfully, rolling his eyes in good humor. “But yeah. Pick of the litter, baby!”

“As it should be,” Johnny told him firmly, satisfied. It was exactly what Mark deserved, the choice to go wherever he wanted. Johnny thanked God that people were finally appreciating Mark’s talent and work the way it deserved. Although… there was a small ( very small), shameful part of Johnny that almost wished they weren’t. That he still had the wonderful secret of Mark Lee all to himself. But that was selfish, and Johnny was trying really hard not to be selfish about Mark these days.

“Well, we both know I’m going with SM, so…” Mark laughed awkwardly, a crackly squawking sound. He was still smiling too brightly for that to matter, though. It just made him even more charming. “You better get ready. I’m gonna make you give me a tour of the building so I don’t get lost and embarrass myself on my first day.”

“Don’t feel…” Johnny trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts so he wouldn’t sound like a self-obsessed douche. He tapped his foot, biting his lower lip. “Don’t feel like you have to, like, choose SM. Go with whoever gave you the best offer, you know? Am I making sense? Just, don’t automatically choose SM because of, like. Me.”

Mark blinked at him a few times, then visibly swallowed. He ran his fingers back through his hair, mussing it up terribly, and laughed under his breath. “Alright, hyung,” he replied, suddenly sounding very tired. His hand dropped heavily form his hair back down to his desk. It jostled his laptop slightly, Mark’s image becoming shaky for a moment. “Alright. Sure.”

“No, really, Mark.” Johnny did not want Mark making decisions that were gonna impact his future, impact his career, just because Johnny happened to audition somewhere 11 years ago.

“No, really Johnny,” Mark cut him off, looking very frustrated. He took a breath. “I mean – Johnny, you have to know,” Mark was peering keenly into the webcam, sounding as serious as Johnny had ever heard him. “You have to know.”

“What?”

“Look, I wanted to do a semester abroad, try new things. And obviously I want to spend time in Korea and get to know where my parents and grandparents are from, experience everything they’ve told me about for years for myself,” Mark continued. “And the music industry in Korea is incredible, and honestly I’m thinking about trying to go into it, post-grad. Like, that’s why I applied for so many internships there. It will be amazing experience, and help me figure some shit out. But, dude.” Mark swallowed, looked down at his fingers fiddling with his hoodie strings. Johnny wished desperately he’d look back up, look him straight in the face. He needed it, suddenly, direct eye-contact. He needed to see what Mark was thinking.

“Dude,” Mark pressed his lips together, voice barely above a whisper. “You have to know that I’m coming for you. All that other stuff for me in Seoul, it wouldn’t even matter – if it didn’t have you.”

Johnny was speechless. He fished for something to say, but it was like his mind had gone blank. He had no idea how to respond to that. He was still confused about what Mark was trying to say. They sat there in silence for ten very long seconds. 

Mark laughed again, more caustic a sound than Johnny had ever heard from him. He rubbed a hand over his face, hard, looking extremely frustrated with himself. “Alright, Johnny. Sorry. I’m sorry I brought it up. I shouldn’t have.”

“Mark, wait–”

But Mark had already disconnected the call. And Johnny was stuck staring at the home screen of his laptop – a centered photo of NCT-127, backstage in Chicago, with Mark standing right smack in the middle, beaming. He slammed his fist against his desk, and his fingernails bit so sharply into his palm that the crescents stayed there for hours.

…

Mark didn’t ghost him again, but it felt like a near thing. The days stretched out sticky and long that summer, Johnny’s time occupied with filming YouTube content and relaxing like it was a sport, trying to soak in all the rest he could. NCT 2020 loomed in the horizon, and Mark’s arrival in Seoul. Johnny knew he wouldn’t be getting much relaxation for the next five months.

He and Mark didn’t talk about the weird tension that’d popped up at the end of their phone call. They toed around it nicely, silently and mutually deciding that brushing it under the rug was the best approach. Johnny’s inbox was constantly inundated with queries from Mark: questions about what to pack, what to expect, which adaptors he would need and the Korean phrases he should really be practicing. He spent hours answering, typing long paragraphs or sending excruciatingly detailed voice memos, trying to pack four years of knowledge about going back-and-forth between countries into an informal handbook for Mark.

Mark was able to use some of the money his parents had saved for his tuition to get a proper apartment in Seoul instead of getting stuck in the dorms, notorious for packing triples. He shared the place with a roommate, another study abroad student, but they each had their own bedroom – which Mark gushed over to Johnny at length. Johnny listened happily and complained good-naturedly about still sharing with Donghyuck after all these years, but at the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about why having his own room was such an advantage to Mark. It was dangerous territory, and Johnny tried to focus on Mark’s chatter in his ear, not what he might be doing in his bed when the lights were off.

On the bright side, Mark’s apartment was near enough to campus that it was no problem getting to class, but not a bad train ride to the SM building either.

“I could get used to having my own bedroom, for real, yo. It’s so nice,” Mark sighed, a soft flumph accompanying his flop back onto the mattress. It was so strange. Mark sounded the same as he always did on the other end of the phone line – but he wasn’t 6500 miles away in Chicago. He was 5 miles away, in Seoul. And still, his voice on the phone remained the same.

There was something about constants in there, but Johnny didn’t have time to unpack it.

… 

“When is Mark-hyung going to come visit us?” Donghyuck groaned, squirming around on his back like an extremely dramatic turtle. Jaehyun smiled behind his water bottle, and Yuta snorted fondly, slapping Donghyuck with his sweaty towel. Donghyuck squealed and curled up into an indignant ball to protect himself. “Rude! Very rude, hyung! Anyways, Johnny – tell your friend to get over here. He’s worked in the building for weeks and I still haven’t seen him! I’m very sad.” He rolled onto his side and shot Johnny puppy dog eyes that were a bit too tinged with mischief to pull at his heartstrings.

“He’s busy,” Johnny replied shortly, yanking his hair and extensions into an elastic with a little too much force. “And so are we. Interns aren’t supposed to be seeing our practices, anyways. 2020’s not even supposed to be announced for a couple weeks.”

“I’d also like to see Mark again,” Taeyong said mildly, smiling warmly at Johnny. Johnny shot him a narrow-eyed look. “He shouldn’t really be coming by during practice, I agree.” Donghyuck made a scoffing noise here, which earned him a sharp look from their leader. “But – that doesn’t mean we can’t have lunch with him or something. It would be a shame for us to never meet up with him while he’s living in Seoul for a few months.”

Johnny laid back on the floor heavily, dropping his spare hoodie over his face. He could only be thankful that this was a Music, Dance practice, and therefore Ten was not present to contribute to his misery.

“Maybe,” Johnny allowed, muffled under his sweatshirt. “I’ll ask him, sometime.”

“Give me his number, I’ll ask him,” Donghyuck said imperiously, crawling over to poke Johnny in the ribs. He yelped, covering his flank protectively. Donghyuck wasn’t deterred, draping himself over Johnny’s body and crushing him under suffocating warmth. For someone so small, Donghyuck could make himself extraordinarily heavy. He butted his head down next to Johnny’s until his lips hovered just above the sweat-matted hair over his ear. “Because you’ll put it off forever. Coward.”

Johnny was just glad Donghyuck had whispered it.

“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you should say it,” he grumbled childishly. Donghyuck let out a sharp bark of laughter. He granted Johnny an affectionate squeeze, which felt rather like being strangled by an octopus.

“Sorry, hyung.” And, to Johnny’s surprise, Donghyuck really did sound a bit sorry. “I just want the best for you.” For a moment, Johnny’s heart swelled unbelievably. Ridiculously, he felt the prickle of tears at the corner of his eyes. And then, of course, Donghyuck had to break the moment. “And I want to see you act like a loser in front of Melk-hyung again. It was so funny last time.”

Johnny shoved Donghyuck off, rolling over and pushing up to his feet with a deep sigh. Donghyuck wailed on the floor, trying to grab at Johnny’s ankles.

“And you want me to invite Mark to this?” Johnny muttered, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, Mark should come!” Yuta’s voice surprised Johnny, making him startle. Yuta quirked a sculpted eyebrow at him, taking a messy gulp from his water bottle. “He was adorable at your house. It’d be fun!”

Johnny smiled tightly, nodding at his friend. He reminded himself that Yuta had done nothing wrong, that Yuta had no idea what Johnny had been thinking about that night in Northbrook when he blew shit up with Mark. Yuta didn’t even know that Johnny and Mark hadn’t spoken for the better part of two months, after that visit. All Yuta remembered was having fun hanging out with Mark in Johnny’s basement, and teasing him and his roommates backstage.

None of what had happened after was Yuta’s fault. Still, unease pooled in Johnny’s gut as he nodded, clapping Yuta on the back. 

“Sure. I’ll tell him to come for lunch.”

… 

Having Mark living nearby for the first time in years was almost overwhelming, sometimes. Sometimes Johnny remembered that Mark was a fifteen-minute drive away, not a thirteen-hour flight, and he felt so giddy he had trouble falling asleep at night.

 But the best stuff was all little things, really. Not having to calculate timezones before sending a text. Trading take-out recommendations. Making fun of the same commercials. Fuck, it had been so long since Johnny and Mark had simply been able to hang. Not do anything special, just exist in the same space. Johnny had forgotten how nice it was to do that with people he didn’t literally live with.

Sitting down on Mark’s messily-made bed, the cheap navy comforter askew and his pillows still squashed from his head the night before, Johnny glanced around the bedroom curiously. It had been…shit, it had been actual years since Johnny had physically been in Mark’s bedroom. This was clearly a temporary one, walls sparsely decorated, tiny closet only half-filled. Mark’s guitar was propped up proudly in the corner though, gleaming clean and well-loved. It had been a pain for Mark to get it to Seoul, but he couldn’t leave it behind. 

“You know…” Johnny found himself talking before he made the conscious decision to. He cleared his throat when Mark looked at him expectantly, eyes wide and bright. “You know, I always thought you were gonna do something with music.”

“Really?” Mark sounded so shocked, blinking like this was earth-shaking information. Johnny chuckled fondly. He had the sudden, craziest urge to reach forward and cup the back of Mark’s head, pull him in close enough to drop a peck on that cute nose. Johnny swallowed, and fought it down. He tried to remember what Mark’s bedroom had looked like nine years ago, and ground himself in that. Remember the eager little kid Mark had been back then, and not the handsome adult he was now, sitting close enough for their knees to bump.

“Yeah, man. You were so dedicated to your piano and guitar lessons, I swear. I never saw another kid go so hard for them. And you just ate up music, any genre, anything you could get your hands on.” Johnny smiled fondly, thinking of the stacks and stacks of CDs that used to line Mark’s walls. “You know…you’re the first one I told about going out for the SM audition.”

“No way,” Mark breathed reverently. He gazed up at Johnny, holding something like awe in his face. “Really? It was…it was me?”

“Yeah, Markie, it was you.”

“Oh my – um, wow.” Mark swallowed visibly, eyes darting away to look out the window before coming back to Johnny’s face. If Johnny didn’t know any better, he’d say Mark was nervous. “Wow, um. Dude, I had no idea. I’m so honored.” Johnny snorted lightly, jostling their shoulders together. Mark rolled his eyes and jostled him right back. “No, but really though, why? I was so young then.”

Johnny hesitated. He thought hard, trying to remember his reasons back then. “I think because you were the only other person I knew who liked k-pop?” Mark burst into laughter, making Johnny smile widely. “Hey!”

“Dude–” Mark tried to speak through his guffaws, voice coming out squeaky. “Dude, I thought it was gonna be something like, super deep, but no. I just owned a Shinee CD.”

“It showed taste,” Johnny sniffed, trying to bite back his grin. Mark shoved his arm, settling back against the wall comfortably. He slid his phone out of his pocket, opening TikTok and flicking through his for you page aimlessly. Johnny watched curiously over his shoulder.

The sun began to sink beneath the horizon, the room growing darker. A hint of guilt began to creep into the back of Johnny’s mind. A couple of the boys really had been pushing to see Mark, and Johnny’d been putting them off for weeks. Mark wasn’t busy right now. Neither was Johnny. They were just chilling out. He didn’t have an excuse. This was the perfect time to ask, technically. But Johnny found himself reluctant to. He and Mark had been so good lately. There hadn’t been any discord; they were hanging out like the old friends they were. It felt almost luxurious to have Mark in the same timezone, to have him so nearby. The last time Johnny had brought Mark around his members… Well. It had been two months before he and Mark started speaking again. Johnny wasn’t blaming his members, necessarily, but why upset the delicate balance he he’d struck with Mark? There’d been some close calls already this year, like when Mark told Johnny he was accepting the internship at SM. Johnny didn’t want to lose Mark, not when he finally had him so close.

Johnny had never thought of his and Mark’s friendship as something tenuous, before. It was that, more than anything else, that made up Johnny’s mind. He couldn’t be walking on eggshells around Mark. He owed their friendship more than that.

Johnny cleared his throat, drumming on his knee. “Hey, so, the guys wanna see you. I know you can’t pop in while you’re working, but when’s your lunch break? Taeyong could probably manipulate our managers into making sure our lunch time lined up.”

“Oh, no way, they’ve been asking?” Mark perked up immediately, twisting around to look Johnny full in the face. Johnny tried not to mourn the loss of their knee-to-knee contact. He nodded silently, trying to read Mark’s reaction. Was he excited? Did Mark want to spend more time with them? He was a big fan, Johnny remembered guiltily. Was he being a bad friend, trying to keep them separate so long? “Um…yeah, man, lunch sounds good. Maybe on Tuesday, those are usually kind of slow for some reason. Do they wanna go out? Or stay in? I mean, I’m fine with whatever, it’s just with you guys – being like, famous or whatever, I don’t know how careful you wanna be.”

“I’ll ask them,” Johnny said, feeling oddly winded. He was relieved, but he didn’t really know why. It’s not like he thought Mark was going to blow up on him for asking him to a group lunch. Johnny tried not to think about the other emotion welling in his chest. But try as he might, there it gathered: disappointment. And he really, really didn’t know why. Or maybe he just didn’t want to think about why.

… 

Lunch was fine. Johnny didn’t know why he was surprised by that. It was fine. Fun, even. Mark could make friends with a tree, for fuck’s sake, of course he got along with everyone like a house on fire. It was impossible not to love him.

He started at the thought, hand clenching around his napkin. It shouldn’t have been anything surprising, Johnny reminded himself, taking a careful breath. He had loved Mark for years, obviously. The L-word was dangerous territory these days, though. Johnny steered his attention towards where Mark was talking animatedly to Taeyong. Maybe not the best distraction, considering what he was trying to be distracted from was thinking about Mark, but Johnny couldn’t miss this. It was sick to have Mark around for the autumn, but it was only a temporary arrangement. Mark would be back home in Northbrook by Christmas, and Johnny would remain in Seoul, without him.

“Are you planning a new drop soon?” Taeyong was asking Mark curiously. Mark looked down at the table bashfully, scratching the back of his head.

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, I’ve been working on some stuff, I should have enough for a mixtape soon.”

“Cool,” Taeyong told him, nodding along. Mark blushed. Johnny tried not to make it obvious how closely he was watching, pretending to nod along to whatever Jungwoo was saying to Yuta off to his left. “Where have you been recording? Do you have a mic at home, or are they letting you use the equipment here?”

“Oh, same mic as always. I got a USB one that hooks up to my laptop. It was a decent price, does the job. I’ll probably spring for something better when I’m back home, maybe for Christmas. But this one’s good for traveling.”

“Nice,” Taeyong leaned forward, chin resting on his palm. He could put his direct attention on someone like no one else, was such a great listener. Mark shifted in his seat, trying not to look too excited about talking music with someone Johnny knew he admired greatly. Johnny hid a smile behind his hand, shoving more food in his mouth to chew. “You know, if you’d like, I have my own little space here they let me use for recording and producing. We could set up a time and I can show you the stuff, maybe record something.”

Mark’s mouth hung agape. He blinked owlishly at Taeyong, who smiled at him with adorable excitement. “Yo, really?” Mark’s voice cracked in the middle, pitching up an octave. “Oh, man, dang, that’s so nice of you, for real. Wow, you don’t have to do that, really.”

“It’d be fun! It might be at an odd hour though, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that’s totally chill! Oh gosh, you guys are about to have a comeback, I know it’s so crazy. I mean, my sleep schedule is shit anyways, haha, so. Anytime you’re free, really.”

Taeyong wiggled slightly in his seat, clearly eager about the prospect. “I don’t know what your process is, but if you wanted someone to listen to the songs you’ve got, just for a second ear… Well, honestly, I love the work you’ve uploaded, so I’m trying to get a bit of a preview. Shh.”

Mark beamed, leaning forward, chopsticks forgotten on the table. “Yo, really? You listen to my stuff? Dang, that is so fucking cool. Wow. Uh, yeah, you could give everything I have a listen, I would literally love that. Maybe we can do some producing for the rawer tracks? Young-jin-nim lets me work on the equipment, so I’ve got the hang of it, mostly. I wonder if your stuff is different.”

Jaehyun slid into the empty seat next to Mark, then, inserting himself in the conversation easily and, coincidentally, blocking Johnny’s view of Mark. He stifled a sigh and turned back to his meal, focusing on downing as much protein as he could manage in the next five minutes.

Taeil’s phone alarm induced a mass groan from the members. Donghyuck threw his head down on the table dramatically. “I’m gonna retire,” he announced loudly, covering his ears with his hands. “It’s been fun, but I can’t go on. I need a vacation.”

Johnny stood from the table quietly, drifting unnoticed over towards the doorway. 

“Oh, shit. Well, this was super fun, but you guys gotta bounce.” Mark reached out to Jaehyun and, as if they had rehearsed it, clapped hands then easily slid into a synchronized finger-clasp, finishing with subtle finger guns. Johnny looked on, astonished. Had they practiced that? When had Jaehyun managed to make up a handshake with Mark? 

As if it was no big deal, Mark hopped up from the table and sauntered to his side, hovering next to Johnny. He looked up at him with expectant eyes. “Johnny, you ready to go?” 

Johnny blinked and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go. Hey, do you think Kenzie has the chewy candies out at her station today?”

“She does. I ate two this morning,” Mark told him with a grin, bumping their shoulders together as they walked out of the room, twisting around to wave goodbye to everyone. Johnny’s hand shot out and grabbed him around the arm, steering him clear of the doorframe as Mark attempted to walk backwards. His parentheses eyebrows shot up in surprise as he stumbled back around, looking at the obstacle as if shocked by its sudden appearance. “Woah. Nice save, hyung.”

“No problem.”

“You’re so cool,” Mark sighed, and suddenly they were six and ten again, walking down the sidewalk in Northbrook as Johnny dodged expertly around the neighbor’s sprinklers, tugging Mark along to keep him out of the spray. The memory superimposed over the present for a moment, and Johnny inhaled sharply.

Then he blinked, and the image disappeared. They weren’t on a sidewalk in Northbrook lined with viridian lawns; they were in the halls of SM Entertainment, adorned with various shades of grey. Johnny sighed.

His hand was still wrapped around Mark’s wrist. His fingers closed easily around it. Johnny smiled to himself as they continued towards the producers studios, Mark bobbing along beside him, chattering excitedly about what assignments he might receive for the afternoon. Johnny squeezed his wrist at appropriate intervals, letting him know he was listening.

Mark’s wrists were still bony and skinny, easily encircled by Johnny’s fingers. That hadn’t changed. Maybe some things could still be a constant.

…

Johnny: on our long rest

Johnny: you got 20 min?

Mark: heyy dude

Mark: lemme check

Mark:  young-jin-nim said i could take my lunch now!

Johnny: :)

Johnny: meet in the empty practice room on your floor?

Mark: litty

Mark was already waiting when Johnny slipped into the empty room, throwing away a granola bar wrapper in the trash. Johnny hoped that wasn’t all he was planning to eat for  lunch.

“You look pretty today, Markie,” Johnny said, trying to make it sound light. In truth, it was bone-deep sincerity: Mark looked really pretty. He was wearing a blue-and-white striped sweater, fuzzy and soft, cinched in at his wrists and making it look like Mark was swimming in a blanket. The collar came up far enough to conceal his collarbones, but his head looked so cute poking out, all fluffy curly hair and big round glasses. He was wearing skinny jeans, per usual, denim gathering too much around his knobby knees, and beat up sneakers. It was adorable. Johnny wanted to hug him and bury his face in Mark’s shoulder until he suffocated in polyester blend.

“Dude, c’mon…” Mark ducked his head, ruffling his hear bashfully. Johnny reached forward, knocking Mark’s hand away to deliver a proper ruffling himself. Mark squawked, batting at Johnny’s hand furiously. “Hey! Hey, man, not cool!”

“Sorry, Markles,” Johnny snickered, giving Mark’s earlobe a fond pinch before retracting his hand. Was it the lighting, or were Mark’s ears super red? “You just looked too cute, I couldn’t help it.”

“Man.” Mark actually looked cross for a moment, irritated little lines appearing between his brows. “Man, you can’t talk like that.”

“Like what?” Johnny asked, feeling a bit lost. Had it really been so long since he called Mark cute? Maybe it was the messing with Mark’s hair. In Johnny’s defense, it hadn’t looked like Mark styled it today, but still. That could be annoying. It had been years since Johnny had the opportunity to deliver noogies on the reg, maybe Mark had outgrown it. 

“Like… like, you know.” Mark’s voice took on a whiny quality, but the set of his mouth remained strained. “Calling me pretty, or whatever.”

“Why not?” Johnny asked, teasing creeping into his tone. “Why can’t I tell the truth? You’re going to make me lie, Mark? I’m devastated.”

“No, you’re not,” Mark said crossly, scowling. “So quit it.”

“I am, though!” Johnny laughed a bit, grabbing Mark’s shoulder and giving him a gentle shake. “I’ve gotta tell you how pretty you look every day now or I’ll be sad. I can’t go on, knowing that you’re walking around not knowing how beautiful you are -”

“Johnny, seriously, cut it out.”

“But you’re just the cutest,” Johnny whined, pouting at Mark. He knew he was pushing it too far, putting his toe over the line, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know how to stop. His mouth kept on running. “My most precious. Adorable. Look at you today. I just wanna snuggle you to death, Markie. So cute, I could just eat you up!”

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice raised, nearly at a shout. Johnny reared back. Even Mark looked surprised by how loud he had gotten for a moment, before composing himself with a harsh inhale. He was glaring fiercely at Johnny. “I’m telling you, stop it. I really can’t take it right now. C’mon man. Don’t be cruel. Don’t make fun of me like that, I can’t handle it yet.”

“I’m… I’m, I. Mark, what? I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I didn’t…I don’t…” Johnny trailed off, truly lost for words. Cruel? ‘Don’t be cruel?’ Sure, Johnny had been stepping over the line, but ‘cruel’ seemed unwarranted. “I crossed the line, I’m sorry. I should’ve dropped it when you asked. But I was just kidding with you, dude. You know how I am with the teasing. I do it because I love you, you’re one of my best friends. It’s not…you know I’m not cruel, Mark.” Johnny couldn’t help the hint of reproach that crept into his voice at the end. Mark laughed humorously, a sharp bark that scraped painfully over Johnny’s ears.

“Okay, fine. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said you were cruel, I know you’re trying your best. Look, I get it,” Mark was tugging the hair at his temples in both his hands, and he wasn’t looking at Johnny. “You wanna like, let me down easy or whatever, cool. I get it. It’s fine. Just stop playing dumb, please? Be honest with me? I think I deserve that much, at least.”

Playing dumb? This was no act. Johnny just was dumb. He laughed, an almost bitter sound.  “I gotta say, I think you’re holding me a little too high in your regard,” Johnny told Mark, absolutely baffled. “Because I’m not playing dumb, Markie. I got no clue what you’re talking about.”

Mark scoffed, the air catching in his throat. It almost sounded like a sob.

Johnny felt clueless. Worse than clueless.

“Seriously?” Mark barely managed to choke the word out before a fat tear escaped the corner of his eye. Johnny’s stomach dropped to the floor. His throat went dry. His whole body felt too hot, like it was putting out an alarm. He had never seen Mark cry before. Johnny had known Mark for nearly twenty years, and this is the first time he has ever seen him cry, and it’s Johnny’s fault. Mark sniffled loudly, a second tear falling. “You’re gonna make me say it?”

“Mark –” Suddenly, Johnny was on the verge of tears too, voice rough, like it was being ripped out of his throat. “Mark, I don’t know what you’re trying to say. I’m sorry, I’m just – I’m so, so sorry. Please, don’t cry, c’mon. Don’t cry, Markie, don’t.”

“I’m in love with you.” And Mark’s face crumpled, arms wrapping around his ribs as he curled in on himself. His voice was raw. It sounded so painful. Johnny imagined thorns, dragging over Mark’s throat with every word he forced out, scraping him bloody. “Johnny, I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for years. So please, please don’t make me talk about it anymore. I can’t. Do you even know… Do you understand? Just, stop talking. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Mark.” Johnny’s heart was at a stand-still in his chest. He felt lightheaded. “Mark…”

“Stop.” Mark looked up, wet eyes meeting Johnny’s. He looked so angry. His eyelids blinked hard against the well of tears, making more drip onto his face. “Just stop it.” Mark’s mouth screwed up in a terrible grimace. Johnny sucked in a strangled breath.

For a second, it had looked like… It had looked like Mark hated him.

Maybe he did. He probably did. If Mark hated Johnny for putting him through all this, then Johnny wouldn’t blame him. He would let it go, and he would let Mark live his life and not bother him anymore, and he would die a little inside. “I’m not…I’m just–”

And that was when Johnny’s phone alarm went off. Of course it was. He had never hated the dumb chime sound so much in his fucking life. He cursed, fumbling through his pockets frantically to grab it and turn it off. Probably the only thing that could have made this moment worse was a literal alarm, and of course Johnny delivered. He just had to let Mark down one more time, apparently.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, Jesus–”

“It’s fine.” Mark sounded exhausted, suddenly. His shoulders curled forward, eyes trained on the scuffed tile floor. He looked years older, like this conversation had aged him a decade. “Go. Just…go, Johnny.”

Johnny didn’t want to leave Mark fucking standing here, looking unbearably world-weary, but he didn’t really have a choice. “Mark, I don’t wanna – I don’t wanna leave it like this, I swear. It’s not like you think it is, we really need to talk – like really talk, but…” Johnny trailed off helplessly, not wanting to actually utter the words “but my break is over and I have to go to dance practice” in Mark’s face. A terrible sense of déjà vu swept him. Johnny swallowed against the wave of nausea, gazing desperately at Mark, hands hovering uselessly in the air between them.

“Seriously Johnny, go to fucking practice.” Mark’s voice went thin and nasally. Tears threatened to spill over his eyes once more, and his nose was bright red. “We both have shit to do today. Bye.”

He stepped past Johnny, making to walk out the door. A terrible sense of wrongness struck Johnny. “Mark…”

“Can’t you just fucking leave it?” Mark hissed. He turned on his heel, glaring at Johnny. Wetness shined beneath his eyes, a tear dripping uselessly off his sharp jaw. Mark wiped it angrily with the back of his hand. “Can’t you just fucking leave it for once in your goddamn life?”

“I can’t,” Johnny said, and he stared at Mark, willing him to read his mind. Couldn’t Mark see Johnny’s heart, caught in his throat? “I can’t. Not this time.”

Mark huffed loudly and whirled back around, storming out the door with his shoulders around his ears. He took care not to let the door slam, because at the end of the day, he was still the Mark Lee Johnny had known for fifteen years – the considerate boy, kind and goofy with impeccable manners, the favorite of every parent in the neighborhood.

Johnny was so in love with him his throat hurt.

… 

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get his feet working, but Johnny returned to dance practice in a haze. He might as well have skipped, for all he was getting done. After the fourth time they had to re-start because Johnny had missed a cue and fallen out of formation, tripping everyone else up, Taeyong called a two-minute break to yell at Johnny.

“What the hell is going on with you?!” Taeyong whisper-shouted, getting very close to Johnny’s face. Other members drifted awkwardly around them, some more obvious about their eavesdropping than others. “You were great this morning, what the fuck happened?”

“Sorry, Yong,” Johnny said, swallowing. He felt vaguely dizzy. He wasn’t sure if he was actually inhabiting his body right now. The room didn’t feel quite real. The fluorescent light was a bit swimmy. “Sorry. I’ll pull it together, I swear.”

“You better,” Taeyong threatened, but his thick eyebrows furrowed in concern. “But Johnny, I’m actually – did something happen? You’re never like this. I’m worried.”

“Something… yeah. Something happened.” Johnny was surprised by his own admission. Taeyong clearly was too, leaning back slightly, huge eyes blinking up at Johnny in shock. When had the last time Johnny admitted to needing help? To not feeling well? Was he so focused on keeping his emotions locked up inside him, safely under control, that he’d closed off to other people?

Fuck. Johnny couldn’t be thinking like this. The two minutes were nearly up.

“Do you need the rest of the day off?” Taeyong asked, even more concerned now. He touched the back of his hand to Johnny’s forehead, checking for a temperature. Johnny weakly rolled his eyes, batting away Taeyong’s hand. “You never miss practice. I’m sure they’d let you have it.”

Johnny tugged at his hair, then winced hard. His recently-bleached roots were more sensitive than usual. He sighed, observing Taeyong’s face. His hair was silver and visibly crispy at the ends without the multitude of styling products, and the bags under his eyes weren’t very pronounced, but they were dark. Taeyong was in the middle of comeback promotions, and he still had to show up to these full-group rehearsals to make sure they were all ready for the end of year shows. Taeyong might say it was fine for Johnny to miss an afternoon, but Johnny knew the truth. He knew the career he had chosen. It wasn’t fine. It was coming down to the wire, now. They couldn’t be missing a body.

“Nah, Yongie, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” Johnny smiled unconvincingly at their leader. Taeyong raised a judgmental eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“I am going to worry about you,” Taeyong told him dryly, but concern laced every word. He patted Johnny on the shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “But I’ll trust you if you say you can handle it. We’re talking about it tonight, though.”

“Okay,” Johnny conceded. Taeyong looked a bit taken aback by how easily Johnny had folded, but straightened up and gave him a nod. He made to pull away, about to call the members back to their starting places. Johnny bit his lip. “Hey.” Taeyong turned back around, tilting his head at Johnny curiously. “Can I have a hug?”

He had an armful of Taeyong before he could even finish the sentence. “Of course!” Taeyong told him emphatically, muffled into Johnny’s shoulder. “Of course you can, hyung.” Johnny closed his eyes and squeezed him back, fighting very hard against the prickle of tears. He took a deep breath and nodded to himself, chin bumping off Taeyong’s head.

“Okay, thanks. I needed that.” Johnny pulled away, clapping Taeyong on the bicep. This time, his smile felt a bit more sincere. “My head is back in the game, I swear.”

“You got this!” Taeyong gave him a double thumbs up and a toothy grin. 

“I know.”

Johnny would get through practice, and he would focus. Mark wouldn’t want him to fuck this up. Mark would want Johnny to work hard and give his best. And later, when Johnny had cried in the shower and put on his softest pajamas, he would think about other things that Mark wanted. Things that Johnny wanted to give Mark, too. And Johnny would figure out how to fix the mess they’d made. 

He had to.

… 

Johnny wasn’t going to let another cold war crop up between them. He wasn’t going to let the evidence of Mark’s existence in his life be pushed down until it was mere memory. He wasn’t going to allow Mark’s message thread to sit untouched, he wasn’t going to time his breaks to ignore Mark in the halls, and he wasn’t going to let Mark step back on a plane to Chicago without speaking to Johnny again, flying away not knowing that he had Johnny’s heart packed up in his suitcase. Johnny wasn’t going to run away this time – and he wasn’t going to let Mark run either.

Mark’s tactic of ignoring texts and letting calls ring out to voicemail worked a lot better with 6500 miles between them. Now, Johnny could have someone drive him 5 miles from the company and drop him off at a Pokemon-themed café two blocks from Mark’s place. He smiled wryly to himself as he crossed the intersection to Mark’s apartment building, adjusting his mask and beanie again. Mark couldn’t escape Johnny so easily now, not when he’d brought himself so close. And Mark had brought himself so, so close. Like he was trying to see how near he could get to the flame before it burned him. Johnny remembered a conversation from months ago, when Mark had told him about accepting the internship at SM. You have to know that I’m coming for you. Johnny cursed himself, picking up his pace as he approached Mark’s building. How could he have been so blind?

Johnny faced down the row of buzzers with grim determination, then poked his finger into 209. It took a few long seconds, where Johnny’s stomach roiled with nerves, but then Mark’s voice came crackling over the speaker. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Johnny said, simply. 

Another long silence. “Go away.” 

Mark sounded exhausted, voice managing to sound heavy even through the tinny speaker. Johnny shook his head, setting his jaw beneath his mask. “No. I’m not leaving until you let me in.”

“I’m not opening the door. I told you to give me some space, I’m not ready yet. Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Johnny said stubbornly, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. He shifted on his feet. The late-October air was kind of chilly, but it wasn’t too bad. Johnny could hold out for hours in this. He was from Chicago, goddamnit. 

“Well, I’m not opening it.”

“Well, I’ll just stand here until you do.”

Silence again. Johnny could practically hear Mark’s exasperated groan, even though nothing came through the speaker. Despite himself, his lips twitched.

“It’s not safe for you to stand out there. You’re in the street, Johnny. Does anyone even know you’re here?” Mark’s voice sounded a bit desperate. Johnny shook his head, feeling far more cheerful than he should.

“Nope. And I don’t care, I’m not leaving. I’ll wait.” He rocked on the balls of his feet, staring expectantly at the metal box.

“Oh my God, fine! I’ll buzz you up. Annoying ass.”

Johnny smiled brightly, fighting back the urge to blow a kiss to the buzzer box. “I’ll see you in a minute!”

… 

Mark was in rare form before he even flung his door open.

“What were you thinking?” Mark raged, already in a full-fledged fuss. Johnny hadn’t even gotten his shoe over the threshold. “You idiot! What if a saesang had seen you out there, huh? You didn’t have any security! Johnny, oh my God, you could’ve gotten hurt! What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I needed to talk to you.” Johnny finally got through the doorway and toed both his boots off, looking significantly at Mark. Mark flushed bright red, staring down at the ground. His feet were in socks, blue with black toes and heels, and he was wearing pajama bottoms still. Johnny’s heart clenched. “And it had to be somewhere you couldn’t run away from me.”

“I haven’t been running away from you,” Mark muttered, like a filthy little liar. Johnny raised his eyebrow. Mark stared determinedly at a spot on the wall over Johnny’s shoulder. “We had work, Johnny.”

“Okay,” Johnny snorted, slinging his coat from his shoulders and hanging it over Mark’s on one of their two hooks. “So ‘work’ is why you haven’t responded to my texts in two days? Or answered any of my calls?”

“I’ve been busy.” Mark was still avoiding Johnny’s eyes. Johnny couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, so have I. But this is important, so I’m making time for it. Is your roommate home?”

Mark shook his head silently, and exhaled heavily through his nose. “No, he’s got a shift. Well…come on, then.” 

With an air of defeat, Mark led Johnny back towards that sparse bedroom. The guitar had moved from its stand in the corner. It was laying across the bottom of the mattress, like Mark had been playing and needed to put it down in a rush to get the buzzer. Johnny’s heart ached. He could just see Mark curled up on his bed, swimming in his oversized t-shirt, strumming away while he stared out his window at the shitty view of the building next door. He wondered what songs Mark had been playing. Were they heartbreak anthems? Love songs? Were they covers, or was Mark writing originals? Johnny ached to ask him. He wanted to know everything about Mark, every little corner of his soul, every silly habit, every fear and insecurity, and all his brightest parts, his prides and joys and jokes and friendships. Johnny didn’t just want Mark to be his constant, anymore. He wanted all of Mark, all the time. He wanted to know Mark as he really was, not as he used to be. Not just the visage of Mark that Mark thought Johnny wanted to know. Johnny thought Mark might want that, too. He hoped.

“Dude.” Mark’s voice cut through his reverie. It was painfully measured, like Mark was putting effort into imitating his normal cadence. “Not to be, like, rude, but. You said you wanted to talk, but you’ve just been staring at my bed for a minute…?”

Johnny blinked and turned his head sharply to look at Mark. His curved eyebrows were puzzled, hands shoved deep in his pajama pockets. Johnny smiled sheepishly. “Staring at your guitar, actually, but. Yeah. Um, sorry. I do wanna talk.”

“Before you say anything–” Words left Mark’s mouth in a rush, tumbling over each other like rocks in a river. “I know I kind of overreacted the other day. Like, I know. And I know I’ve been a dick with ghosting you, but I’m just like, super fucking embarrassed dude.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed–”

“There kinda is, though? Like, I just dumped my feelings all over you and got mad because you don’t reciprocate them which is like, a douchey thing to do, and I’m sorry. I know that’s immature. I swear, I’m gonna get over it and we can go back to normal, hyung. I’m trying really hard.”

“Please don’t try.”

Mark looked distressed, socked toe digging into his cheap carpeting, shoulders coming up around his ears. “Johnny, I’m really trying my best to be a good friend, but you’re not being very helpful.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Johnny huffed, narrowing his eyes at Mark. He wanted to shake him. “You’re not listening to what I’m trying to tell you.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry that I don’t want to literally hear your rejection.” Mark’s voice was brittle with sarcasm. “I get it, you love me like a friend, you don’t want this to ruin our friendship, whatever. I get it. I’ll get over it, you just gotta give me some time.”

“Will you let me talk?” Johnny asked, exasperated. He planted his hands on his hips and tilted his head, staring Mark down. Mark pressed his lips closed, looking vaguely guilty, but still looking at Johnny with defiant eyes. “Thank you. Jesus. This is what I mean when I say you’re stubborn. You got an idea in your head and it’s not right but you’re so convinced you are that you won’t listen. And I get it, you’re trying to protect yourself. But when you come at the world like that, you end up missing some pretty important shit that’s right in front of your eyes. Trust me. I was trying to protect myself too, and I ended up blinding myself to really important things, and I hurt my friend.” 

Johnny looked at Mark, willing him to feel every emotion tangled up in Johnny’s chest, inextricable from the others. Regret and remorse and fondness and irony and so, so much love. Mark wasn’t blinking, staring directly into Johnny’s eyes like he was in a trance. He swayed slightly on his feet, and Johnny ached to hold him steady. He took a breath. Not right now. In a minute, but Mark had to hear this, first. Mark had to finally hear him. “I hurt my friend, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mark. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what you were trying to tell me. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course,” he choked out, voice scratchy. Johnny exhaled, feeling like an albatross had been lifted from his neck.

“Thank you. But now I really need you to listen to me and hear what I’m trying to tell you. Can you?” Mark looked very young, suddenly, nearly scared, but he managed a nod. Johnny took a deep breath, focusing very hard on Mark’s eyelashes. He felt dizzy with the weight of the words waiting on his tongue. “I’m in love with you, Mark. I love you, and I am in love with you, and I don’t even know how long it’s been like this. I keep thinking about you out there in the world, walking around not knowing how stupid fucking in love with you I am, and it kills me. I haven’t been able to sleep, thinking about you not knowing. So I had to tell you. And I’m not expecting anything, and you don’t owe me anything, but I needed you to know. I love you.”

Mark was in Johnny’s arms before he had the chance to breathe, and his first, desperate inhale was filled with the smell of Mark, his shampoo and the cologne Johnny had bought him two Christmases ago and his fabric softener. Mark squeezed him so tight Johnny made a little wheezing noise, ribs aching. Mark loosened his hold slightly, but he didn’t back up an inch. He compensated by tipping more of his weight forward into Johnny, tucking his face firmly into the crook of Johnny’s neck, cold nose digging into Johnny’s skin.

“I love you,” Mark croaked. Johnny felt Mark’s breath damp on his skin, felt his Adam’s apple bob against his own neck. “I love you, I love you. I love you so much, oh my God. Fuck. Is this real?”

Johnny laughed wetly, suddenly on the verge of crying. “It’s real, Markie.”

“Jeez-us. I love you. Oh wow, I can’t believe it, dude. Holy shit.” 

Johnny couldn’t stand not having Mark completely wrapped around him right this instant. Wrapping his arms tight around Mark’s slim waist and pulling him even closer, Johnny fell back against the wall, no longer able to support Mark on his own. He was too overwhelmed. All those snarled-up emotions, with nowhere else to go, had fucking overflowed and manifested as tears, of all things. Johnny buried his face in Mark’s hair, curly strands soaking up the drops before they could touch Mark’s skin. 

“I love you,” he sniffed, voice scratchy. Mark looked up, seagull brows coming together in adorable confusion as he regarded Johnny’s face, baffled.

“Dude, are you – are you crying?” he asked, disbelieving. Johnny scoffed, although it sounded too snotty to really have an impact, and pinched at Mark’s side. Mark yelped, squirming in Johnny’s hold, but he didn’t let him wriggle away. He hooked an ankle around Mark’s, trapping their legs together and entwining them even further.

“Shut up,” Johnny groused, but his heart wasn’t in it. Mark’s face softened, an unbearably sweet smile taking over his little mouth.

“I love you.”

“Okay, you can keep talking,” Johnny granted. Mark giggled squeakily, tucking his head into Johnny’s sternum and rubbing, like a very affectionate headbutt. Johnny rested his hand atop his head, digging his fingers in to scratch against Mark’s scalp. He wished he had another set of arms that could hold this camera. Johnny would give anything to capture this moment, bottle it up and keep it safe forever. He couldn’t, though. All he could do was live in it, fully and completely. And he was. Cupping Mark’s face in his hand, Johnny looked down at him. He knew he was sporting an unbearably sappy expression, but Mark pressed that sharp cheekbone further into Johnny’s palm, seeking out the skinship, and Johnny’s heart melted into a puddle. “I love you, too.”

…

Kissing Mark was a revelation. Mark’s lips were thin and chapped, but so soft between Johnny’s. He was nippy, and Johnny’s mouth was going to bruise, and he couldn’t be happier. Johnny planted kisses along the line of Mark’s cheekbone, marveling at how the sharpness felt so smooth under his mouth. When Johnny sucked a bruise into the delicate skin behind Mark’s ear, Mark moaned so low Johnny felt it in his fucking teeth. He pulled back slightly and gazed down at Mark, amazed. Mark squirmed under the scrutiny, cheeks pinking up, but Johnny couldn’t look away. He couldn’t even pretend not to be gawking at Mark laid out underneath him, looking like a treasure on a shitty mattress and cheap quilt.

Johnny had – never done this before. He hadn’t ever really wanted to do this before.

It was hard enough to hook up with women as an idol, let alone men. There was all the secrecy; mutually assured destruction or NDAs. And the total lack of privacy; roommates and managers down the hall. Earlier this year, when Johnny had fully accepted that he was attracted to men with his release still sticky over his fist and Mark’s face swimming in his mind, he hadn’t ever really planned on doing anything about it. Not even with Mark. Actually, Johnny had tried very, very hard not to think about doing something about it with Mark. Mark lived half a world away, mainly existing to Johnny as a voice through a phone or face on a screen, not a physical body. And besides that, Mark had everything going for him. He was hot and at college, already successful, smart and kind and driven; the perfect boyfriend. Mark probably had dozens of options, options who would hold his hand in public and sleep in his bed every night and take him home to their parents and proudly show him off on their Instagram because look, they had snagged Mark Lee, and wasn’t he such a catch?

Johnny would never be able to do any of that. Not any time this decade, at least. Mark could have someone who loved him fully and loved him in public and loved him in person. In his darkest moments, Johnny wondered: Why would Mark even want Johnny? It had seemed ridiculous, then, to consider the possibility that Mark liked him back. Johnny hadn’t even dared consider that Mark loved him.

  Johnny had done everything to avoid thinking about Mark in any sort of romantic light. He’d been too ashamed to even consider him in a sexual one. Johnny told himself he didn’t need that, anyways. Why place his bets on a daydream? Johnny had good sex, and loved the girls in the relationships he had been in. He could keep going on as he had been for the rest of his life and be perfectly happy. Why risk everything, when he could be content without it?

But Johnny had never gotten Mark Lee pinned to a bed before. He wasn’t going to be content without this, now. 

Not without at least, like, putting his hands under Mark’s shirt first.

“Can I…?” Johnny asked, trying to swallow down the hesitant edge that had laced the words. Mark blinked up at him, looking nearly dazed. He actually shook his head a little to clear his gaze.

“Oh! Uh, yeah dude, sure. Whatever you want,” Mark assured him, and reached down to the hem of his shirt to pull it off. It got caught around his chin, because of course it did, and Johnny helped lift Mark’s back a bit and pop the collar off over his head. Mark’s hair was a fluffy mess, and he was bright red, and Johnny was so damned charmed. He drank up miles of skin greedily, dotted with moles and hair growing in on Mark’s chest, down his belly. He ran his hands up and down Mark’s body, trying desperately to map all of it out. Johnny wanted to touch him until this no longer felt new anymore, until the landscape of Mark’s body was more familiar than his own.

Mark made a noise beneath him, one that sounded more like a wounded seal than anything and definitely should not have made heat pool in Johnny’s gut, and grabbed at Johnny’s shoulders. Mark pulled him back down, licking into his mouth without any shyness, eating at Johnny’s mouth like he could subsist on that alone. Johnny didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually, his vision started to go spotty. They hadn’t breathed for a fucking minute. Johnny felt like they were racing towards something, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to find out what.

“Can we–” Johnny tore his mouth away from Mark’s, gasping for air. Mark made an unhappy little noise, straining forwards to press another kiss to Johnny’s lips. He allowed it for a moment, unable to reject Mark’s affection. When it really became necessary to breathe, though, Johnny held Mark’s head a firm four inches away from his face, fingers wound tight in his hair. Mark pouted down at him, even as they both panted, ribcages heaving. Johnny felt his heart physically ache – although that might have been the oxygen deprivation. “Hold it,” Johnny said sternly, biting his cheek against a goofy smile. Mark huffed a sigh, but nodded slightly. “Can we…I really like this. But can we, I don’t know. Just do this? For right now?”

“What, kissing?” Mark’s seagull brows came down over his eyes, furrowing together. Johnny nodded, searching his eyes. His pupils were blown out, but the crinkles at the corners softened. A galaxy of stars reflected in Mark’s eyes as he gazed down at Johnny, gentle smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah, ‘course, Johnny. No rush.”

“Thanks,” Johnny croaked, and humiliatingly, felt a blush spread over his the bridge of his nose, creeping over his cheeks and down his neck. He rubbed his hands over Mark’s sides, trying to cool himself off. Shockingly, it didn’t work as intended. Mark’s abs twitched under his thumbs, and Johnny swallowed heavily. He heaved himself up off Mark’s body, flopping onto his back. He stared unseeingly at the ceiling.“Fuck. You’re really hot, Markie.”

“Jeeeesus,” Mark groaned, diving down to hide his face in the pillow. The curls of his hair brushed against Johnny’s jaw, tickling him. “Oh my God, dude, you can’t say stuff like that. I’m gonna die.”

“Imagine how I feel,” Johnny muttered, tracing his fingertips up the dent of Mark’s spine. He had an inverted one, curving inwards instead of bumping out. Johnny wanted to press him down into the mattress and kiss every mole that speckled his back.

Mark sighed, rolling off where he’d half-sprawled over Johnny onto his side. He tugged Johnny with him, trying to pull him over and become a pancake beneath him. Johnny went willingly, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Mark.

“Hi,” he whispered, smiling like a dork. Mark smiled back for a second, just a goofy. He wrapped his hands around the back of Johnny’s neck, pouting when Johnny kept his weight on his elbows, off of Mark.

Mark made a disappointed little sound, tugging at Johnny’s neck. “Get down here, hyung.”

“Don’t wanna squish you, baby,” Johnny chuckled, pressing a consoling kiss to Mark’s cheekbone. He lowered himself anyways, letting his torso blanket Mark’s, shifting sideways to keep the worst of his weight off Mark’s lungs. Mark huffed.

“Want to be squished,” he complained, squirming closer to Johnny’s body. He breathed out a laugh, trying to be subtle about smelling Mark’s hair. “Dude, are you sniffing me?” Busted.

“Shhh,” Johnny shushed him, shifting more of his weight onto Mark. He made a slight wheezing noise, like a balloon deflating. “Lemme have the moment.”

“Sniff away,” Mark told him, clearly amused. His hand drifted up from Johnny’s nape to push through his hair, fingertips gently rubbing at Johnny’s scalp. He was so careful about the extensions. Johnny sighed, pushing his head into the petting.

“Feels nice.”

“Bro, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. Your hair lately…fuck. You’ve been killing me.”

Johnny wrinkled his nose. “Can you not call me bro when we’re literally cuddling?”

Mark laughed, a half-snort that creaked and broke, too loud for the quiet of the room. Johnny hid his smile in Mark’s hair. “You knew exactly what you were getting into with me, hyung. You can’t act like you’re surprised when you’ve known me this long.”

“Yeah,” Johnny admitted, conceding easily. His eyes drifted shut, and he let himself drift between dreaming and waking. His breathing synchronized with Mark’s, slow and steady.

Johnny didn’t know how he and Mark were going to make this work. He didn’t know if they would last, or if this would all come crumbling down around their ears. He didn’t know what they would do when Mark’s semester ended, when he flew back across an ocean to Chicago. He didn’t know what the future might hold. Right now, Johnny wasn’t thinking about any that. Johnny thought instead about how warm he was, how Mark fit so perfectly against his body, how his cheeks ached from smiling so much.

Living in the moment was pretty great. Even if this wasn’t forever, it was good right now. Johnny tightened his arms around Mark, soaking in his soft puffs of breath that washed over Johnny’s cheek with every exhale. He was going to fight for this. Johnny had kept Mark close for years; he wasn’t going to let him go easily. And Mark wouldn’t let go of Johnny, either. After all, they’d always been willing to put in the extra work for each other.

[2009]

Mark was curled up on the end of Johnny’s mattress, so tiny he managed to fit despite the messy piles of clothes threatening to overflow onto the floor.

“I’m gonna miss you, hyung,” Mark sniffed, chin propped on his knees. He was staring at Johnny’s open suitcase, determinedly avoiding his eyes. Mark was ten now; just starting to get too big for big feelings.

Johnny smiled at him, ruffling his hair as he walked past, grabbing a bundle of semi-folded clothes off his bed. “Don’t worry bud, I’ll be home by the time school starts up again.”

“Yeah.” Mark’s mouth screwed up, an adorable little scowl. “But you’ll miss the whole summer.”

“Aw, Markles,” Johnny cooed, grinning mischievously at him. “You’re gonna be so busy this summer. Didn’t your parents sign you up for swim team and extra guitar lessons? You won’t even gonna notice I’m gone.”

“I will,” Mark insisted sullenly, pulling his knees in tighter to his chest. Johnny ignored his pouting, re-folding his clothes to make them all fit, shoving his socks down into a corner. He could hear their parents downstairs, muffled through the floor, laughing raucously about some story or another. After a minute, Mark broke the silence again. His voice was tentative, cutting cautiously through the quiet air of Johnny’s bedroom. “Hyung… you’re coming back, right? You’re gonna come home?”

Johnny felt something twinge in his chest. As he dropped the clothes he’d been handling, Johnny was struck with the reminder of five-year-old Mark Lee on his first day of kindergarten. Brave, but seeking Johnny’s reassurance anyways. He stood up from the floor, kicking a stray pair of acid-wash jeans aside.

“Don’t worry, Markie,” Johnny assured him, sitting down heavily on the mattress. He knocked their shoulders together, getting Mark to look him in the eyes. “I’m coming home in September. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’re gonna be friends forever.”

Mark gazed at him, eyes huge in his tiny face, shining with something between fear and hope. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

… 

We could call it even

Even though I’m leaving

And I’ll be yours for the weekend .

fin.