Donghyuck woke with a start, the unfamiliar ceiling spinning above him like a slow-moving storm. His skin prickled with cold awareness—naked, exposed, and aching. A dull throb pulsed through his back and his ass—sharp reminders of last night’s chaos.

His eyes darted around the unfamiliar room—sterile walls, soft shadows pooling in corners, and clothes strewn carelessly like fragments of his scattered mind. One sock lay abandoned near the door, his shirt draped over a chair like a forgotten memory, pants crumpled beside the bed. But his underwear? Nowhere to be seen.

Shit. His voice barely a whisper, the word slipped out like a secret curse as panic teased the edges of his breath.

Then—a door creaked open.

Not the front door. The bathroom.

His heart pounded against ribs like a frantic prisoner.

The door swung wide, and there he was—Mark. Shirtless, hair tousled and wild as if the night itself had tangled in it. The sight should have sent shockwaves through Hyuck’s system, but what caught him was the softness in Mark’s eyes—the way they widened, catching the raw vulnerability that cracked his armor.

Mark’s steps were quick, urgent, closing the distance until he enveloped Hyuck in a fierce, trembling embrace.

“Hyuck... calm down. Shh. You’re safe,” Mark murmured, voice thick with something like guilt, maybe regret, maybe hope. Fingers traced soothing circles along his back, a silent promise against the chaos inside.

Slowly, Hyuck’s arms curled around Mark’s waist, clinging like a lifeline, his sobs quieting into fragile breaths.

When the storm inside calmed enough to speak, Hyuck’s voice trembled. “Why?”

Mark’s throat tightened. He couldn’t answer—not with truth, not with lies. Not with anything that could stitch the shattered pieces back together.

“I don’t know.”

Hyuck’s hands trembled, pulling back just enough to look into those haunted eyes. “You know what happened. You know how I react. Why?”

Tears spilled anew, jagged and raw, as Mark pulled him close again, whispering, “I know, Hyuckie. I know how much it hurt you. I wish I could explain, but I was drunk. I can’t remember everything.”

Hyuck’s voice cracked as he faced him fully. “Why did you have to cheat?”

Mark’s chest tightened, eyes pleading for forgiveness that felt impossible to give.

“I thought you loved me.” Hyuck’s voice was fragile, shattering. “You know I get attached too fast. What we had... I thought it would last forever. I loved you so much.”

Mark swallowed, words raw. “It was my dad, Hyuckie. He didn’t want me dating a guy. Said I’d fall for a girl, have kids I made myself. I haven’t found anyone like that yet. And… I didn’t really cheat. A kiss on the cheek—like you gave your classmates all the time. You should’ve trusted me.”

Hyuck’s shoulders shook. “Then why didn’t you fight for us? If you loved me as much as you said… why aren’t we married by now?”

His head bowed, a fragile weight in the room.

Mark’s voice softened. “...What if we try again?”

The words hung, fragile as glass.

Hyuck’s head snapped up, eyes wide—hope and fear colliding in a breathless moment.

“Mark...”

“Just hear me out,” Mark urged. “I never wanted to leave you. It was never my intention to break you. After I left, you were the only thing on my mind. Maybe fate—God—wanted us to be together. That’s why we’re here.”

Hyuck’s breath hitched. “I don’t know.”

Mark reached out, fingers trembling, searching his face for any sign. “Do you still love me?”

Hyuck’s eyes blinked wide, heart pounding. He wanted to say no, wanted to protect the fragile pieces of himself. But that man—his first love, the only one—held his heart in his gaze.

“I just—”

Mark pressed gently, voice soft as a prayer. “Do you still love me?”

A tear slipped down Hyuck’s cheek, the truth spilling out like fragile light.

“I do.”

That was all it took.

Mark’s lips crashed against his, hungry and desperate, sparking fires long thought dead. The air between them hummed electric—like high school all over again but deeper, rawer.

“I love you too,” Mark breathed against his mouth.

Hyuck’s heart shattered and rebuilt itself all at once.

But then, a whisper of doubt.

“But I don’t want to be with you...”