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Chenle had a habit of driving too fast over potholes so that Mark sometimes worried the rims of his car would crack. It’s the only reason he had volunteered to drive.

That, and it meant that Mark wouldn’t give in to his urge to stare at Chenle the entirety of the drive, feeling like he was about to crawl out of his skin. Instead, it meant he could give into his impulses every so often,, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Chenle for a brief moment before focusing forward, afraid to drive off the road.

The roads were dark, heavy with fog. So that the windshield fogging up was almost unnoticeable until they passed a lonesome house with its porch light on. Off in the distance though, there seemed to be something glowing, blue gray like maybe the sun had decided to not fully set, wanting to peek out into the night.

Mark had plugged in his phone to the aux, and Frank Ocean sang softly through the car’s speaker. When Mark had picked up Chenle he had been about to change the music, something more upbeat, but Chenle had grinned, had sung the next lyric, just slightly ahead of the music. 

Mark tried not to think about how sometimes listening to his favorite music with Chenle felt like Mark was peeling back his skin, showing Chenle the rawest, ugliest part of himself. Just the thought made his eyes a little watery. He tried not to be transported back to being back in college, listening to Nights on repeat at three a.m. after his first girlfriend had broken up with him by making out with someone else at a party. 

He’d mentioned that once to Chenle, almost instantly regretting it when he did. A little too sincere and true in a way they rarely were. Chenle had hummed, and had asked Mark if White Ferrari would have been a better choice. 

The memory and music made him feel too earnest, too sentimental, but Chenle’s soft voice singing was grounding enough, and Mark was able to sink into the warmth in Chenle’s voice throughout the drive. 

“Do you think,” Chenle starts, pressing his nose against the window to see how far out he could see. They were near the resort, the GPS noting they were less than fifteen minutes away.

“Sometimes,” Mark says when Chenle doesn’t say anything further.

“Sorry,” Chenle sits up, turning towards Mark. He looks extremely eager, bouncing his leg a bit. Mark tries not to crash the car. “Do you think Jeno will be there?”

A laugh bubbles out of Mark, surprised and almost hurt. He knows the answer. “Maybe.”

Mark had booked accommodations for everyone, except Donghyuck and Renjun who had opted to book a small lodge on their own.

“Jeno Lee,” Chenle sighs happily.

“The one that got away?” Mark asks. He considers crashing the car.

“Nah, I think that was Kun Qian in ninth grade.”

“Your camp counselor?”

Chenle takes out his phone. “I bet I can find him on LinkedIn if I try hard enough. You think he’d remember me?”

“So where does Jeno Lee rank?” Mark turns into a narrow street that he’s not sure even qualifies as a street. Definitely too narrow for more than one car. He slows the car down enough, turning on his hazards just in case. The GPS buffers.

Chenle looks up from his phone, glancing at the GPS, and then around. “It’s further down, you’ll hit the main highway, and then it’s off the next exit.”

Mark trusts him, so he continues to drive even if he can barely see. 

Chenle looks down at his phone again, “Jeno Lee would rank third. Although in terms of attainability he should be first.”

“Who’s second?”

“That’s a secret. What about you? Renjun?” He teases.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but his whole body heats up. 

The highway materializes, Mark is careful as he turns off the narrow road, and then towards the entrance ramp. The resort is bright even through the fog, the outside covered in lights leftover from Christmas. The parking lot is full, but Mark manages to squeeze in a spot where the car next to his had encroached across the white line, almost too narrow.

“I should have gotten out,” Chenle murmurs, looking at the looming car next to his window.

“I can pull out?” Mark throws the car in reverse, pulling out just enough for Chenle to get out before maneuvering back into the spot.

It’s a tight squeeze for him to get out, and he’s not sure the car next to him won’t hit him if it tries to leave the parking spot.

Chenle is bouncing from foot to foot, shivering slightly. Mark grabs their stuff from the trunk, Chenle taking his snowboarding gear and two bags, cold fingers brushing against Mark’s. The tip of his nose is bright pink. Mark has the urge to squeeze his cheeks together, kiss his nose until it’s warm.

It’s not until they’re on their way to their room that Chenle must remember their conversation, because he asks, “Wait, what about you? I poured my heart out about my romantic failures. You owe me one. Is it Renjun?”

“Donghyuck will kill me and then you.”

“Renjun wouldn’t let him,” Chenle grins. “Renjun loves me.”

Mark tries to think of a safe option, his mind coming up blank of anyone else other than Chenle. He’d rather talk about his now-dead, schoolboy crush on Renjun than that though. “Maybe Jeno Lee?” He tries to joke, his throat slightly dry.

It must hit the right mark because Chenle shoves past him, grabbing the hotel key card from Mark’s card. “Shut up.” 

Their hotel room is like any other. Chenle claims the bed closest to the window, dumping his bag on the floor. His jacket follows, and then his shoes. He’s quick to slip on the hotel slippers. 

“I was thinking,” he sits on Mark’s bed, and then lays back, making snow angels on the comforter, as Mark hangs up both his and Chenle’s jackets. He resists his own impulse to grab Chenle’s shoes and line them up near the wall. It’s futile, because it’s only a moment before he does, lining them up in a perfect pair by the wall.

Chenle’s sweatpants are tucked into white socks, and he’s wearing a Warriors t-shirt with the neck stretched out. Mark only watches him for a moment before Chenle starts scratching his skin carelessly, pink blooming. 

He doesn’t get to hear Chenle’s plan because Chenle’s phone rings, loud and shrill. Chenle reaches for it, glancing at the screen before his face breaks out into a grin as he answers. Renjun’s voice wafts toward Mark through the phone’s speaker. 

Mark lays next to Chenle and watches Chenle. He can hear bits and pieces but the slight distortion and his abysmal Mandarin language skills means he can’t follow the conversation. 

It’s fine though. Mark finds it doesn’t really matter. It’s enough to watch Chenle, to see how his face is so expressive, reacting to Renjun. His face scrunches up in happiness, smile lines appearing on the corner of his eyes, teeth on full display. 

Mark takes him in, freely and greedily. 

When Mark had first moved to California he had scrolled endlessly through his phone, had tried to think of anyone he knew who he could hit up in an effort to not become a total recluse. Even if the thought of socializing with near strangers made him want to throw up. 

Chenle had reached out to him first though. An Instagram DM in reply to a photo of Mark’s parents at a restaurant Chenle recognized.

Mark had racked his brain for how he knew Chenle, and then remembering a drunken half-hookup at a college party, had thought that maybe Chenle had been hitting on him. It was something, so Mark had replied.

Chenle had not been hitting on him. He’d gushed about the restaurant. Then he’d invited Mark to play basketball, had pushed Mark to join his basketball league, had dragged Mark along to drinks, and introduced him to friends. At first, Mark had found himself resisting, every time he saw Chenle a slight shame of their hookup had overtaken him. But Chenle had somehow slotted Mark into his life so easily. Until they eventually became MarkandChenle and ChenleandMark. So that at a certain point, Mark couldn’t recall a time before Chenle, thinking back on old memories and searching for Chenle.

Mark doesn’t care about skiing or snowboarding. He had always thought of it as an activity for other people, but it’s what Donghyuck had wanted for his bachelor party. Mark hadn’t resisted, had worked with everyone’s schedules, had booked the accommodations, and sent the invites (Renjun had been harder to convince, but they’d compromised and Renjun was having a separate bachelor party in Vegas right after—Donghyuck free). 

Chenle had been stoked about it when Mark had mentioned the trip, he’d jumped into helping organize. It was Chenle’s excitement why Mark found himself strapping his feet into a snowboard, and trying to follow an instructor in learning the basics. Mark felt like maybe he should be taking notes, there was no way he was going to remember any of this later on. 

Chenle had offered to teach him on the bunny slopes, but Mark wanted to at least figure out how to not fall on his face before he tried to snowboard in front of Chenle. (He’d learned that lesson with surfboarding, he’d somehow sprained his wrist and his toe without ever managing to stand on the board.) Plus, Chenle had looked so excited just at the thought of hitting the slopes that Mark couldn’t ask him to hang behind. 

He almost had though, when he saw Chenle run after Jeno, wrapping an arm around him as they headed towards the lifts.

“Make sure you’re paying attention when you’re out there, and most importantly have fun,” the instructor smiles, clapping her hands. Mark looks around him, watching as the other beginners clap, although there’s a few that look just as lost as Mark. 

Mark follows the class, he considers turning back and just heading into the lodge. Mark hangs back a bit, with the last of the stragglers, when he feels a heavy weight on his back. He stumbles forward, trying to stay upright, but then there’s strong arms righting him again, and a loud giggle in his ear. Jeno is right next to Mark, grinning. 

“Sorry,” Chenle sounds happy and breathless when Mark manages to regain his senses. “Did I scare you?”

“Of course not,” Mark manages, but he still feels slightly winded. Chenle is draped off his back, his feet dragging behind in the snow. Carrying Chenle and his gear is difficult, so Mark drops the rented gear, reaching up to squeeze Chenle’s wrist. 

Earlier in the day, Mark had rolled out of bed to find Chenle gone and half a dozen messages from their friends agreeing to get breakfast together and hit the slopes. When he had stumbled down, it had only been Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Chenle left, and Mark had been happy to slide into a chair next to Chenle. He’d been happy to eat some dry toast and runny eggs as Chenle scratched at his scalp almost thoughtlessly, absorbed in conversation with Jaemin and Donghyuck about the slopes.

It had been nice until Jeno had stumbled into the dining area, his hair sleep-rumpled in a way that made Chenle and Jaemin both tease him. Chenle had patted the seat next to him eagerly, and Jeno had responded in kind, sliding into the seat and pulling his hood up. 

Mark couldn’t even be mad when Chenle’s fingers had disappeared from his scalp, had instead rested on Jeno’s back, rubbing it gently. He couldn’t be mad, not when Chenle had smiled softly, his dimple visible enough that Mark had wanted to reach over and poke it. 

It’s the same smile Chenle gives him now as he says, “We’re hitting the bunny slopes with you.”

“Oh,” Mark murmurs, the urge to refuse on his tongue. “I don’t think I’m even ready to hit the bunny slopes.”

“Lucky for you I’m the best teacher. Right, Jeno?” Chenle teases. Mark doesn’t miss the way Jeno’s cheeks are light pink, eyes into crescents as he smiles. It feels a bit private, like Mark is intruding or missed out on an inside joke.

“I might be unteachable.”

It gets the exact reaction he was looking for, Chenle whining loudly in his ear, humbly bragging about his skills. 

“I’ll believe you,” Mark says, only when Chenle pinches his arm playfully, begging him to agree.

“Good,” Chenle disentangles himself, and moves towards Jeno, linking arms. “Now pick up your board.”

The bunny slopes are filled with people. Mark spots his instructor near the edge talking to some parents. Mark waves at her, just in case she had noticed his absence. She waves back. It seems like the other people in the class are just practicing around as well, so he doesn’t feel bad about having ditched class. 

“Who is that?” Chenle asks, leaning towards Mark so that his lips almost brush against Mark’s ear. Mark takes a step back.

“My instructor.”

“Oh,” Chenle straightens out. “Thought you had met a girl in class or something.” Mark tries to think of how to respond to that when Chenle grins. “Okay, show us your skills.” 

Jeno and Chenle both watch as Mark sits on the ground and straps his feet in. It’s a bit of a struggle to get up, but Jeno reaches over to pull him up before Chenle smacks his hand away, muttering something about not impeding the learning process. After that Mark’s mind goes blank. 

Jeno gets on his own board much quicker than Mark did, and then pushes off, zig zagging down the slope in a way that feels unfair. 

“I can’t do that,” Mark says, looking at Chenle.

“No one is asking you to.” Although it feels a bit like Chenle is asking him. Still, Mark pushes off slowly in the way Jeno had. He’s much slower, a little unbalanced, and his movements are stilted line but he gets to the bottom of the little slope. He wraps his arms around Jeno before he crashes into him. Jeno holds him, steady arms wrapping around him. 

“That was great,” Chenle comes running after him. “You have to tilt your body more to change directions and do the heel side stop so you don’t crash into people.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” Mark pretends like his whole weight isn’t resting on Jeno. 

“What did your instructor teach you?” But Chenle is already moving towards him, pulling Mark off Jeno and dragging him back to the start.

Chenle grabs Mark and starts moving and positioning his body, he’s forceful about it. It’s to Mark's detriment because he’s sure he won’t remember anything Chenle is saying. His body burns with Chenle’s touch. He feels himself blushing as he imagines Chenle moving him around in other situations–in bed, naked, taking what he wants. 

“Got it?”

“Sure.” Mark hopes Jeno is at the bottom again to catch him.

His second time is only marginally better, his third marginally worse, because he falls back. His fourth, fifth, and sixth time are the same.  He has to lick his wounds a bit before trying again, so he begs off, unstrapping himself and standing a bit to the side. His ankle hurts and he rolls it as he watches Chenle and Jeno mess around instead. 

Mark had met Jeno through Jaemin, and he had met Jaemin through Jaemin’s casual hookups with Donghyuck (and friendship, Donghyuck insisted) before Renjun. There had been a period of time where Jaemin hadn’t been around (and by extension Jeno), but those feelings had been resolved. This was all peripheral to him though, things Mark only caught on to after the fact, only once Donghyuck could recall these issues with laughter. All that to say, that even if there’s overlap in their friend groups, Mark hasn’t spent a ton of time with Jeno. From what he knows, neither has Chenle. Yet, there’s an ease between them. A soft, fond look in Jeno’s eyes that seems slightly familiar to Mark. 

Chenle is clingy in the same way he is with most people, but Jeno seems to melt into it, going pliant in Chenle’s hold. Agreeing easily when Chenle jumps on him, tries to go down the slight slope before they topple over, both laughing gleefully. They try again and again, until Jeno is able to keep enough balance to snowboard down the hill with Chenle on his back, Chenle laughing and burying his face in Jeno’s neck.

Mark tries to smile, and then looks away, before Chenle can catch the way his cheeks are tight, the fact his smile is more a grimace. 

I wish I knew you when I was like a kid, or like in high school, Mark had once said to Chenle, laying on Chenle’s floor, high enough that it didn’t seem like it would matter if he was being cheesy and corny. 

Chenle had laughed, loud and bright but not mean, and had rolled over on his bed, burying his head in the pillow and muffling his laughs. Mark had waited him out, thinking that the weed was particularly good, playing with the baggie stating the strain Blue Dream. Everything had felt just right, Chenle was laughing and Mark’s whole body was tingling in a soft way.

I was a bit of a suck up in high school. You would have hated me. Chenle had managed to say between giggles, raising his head and extending his neck, asking for another hit. 

Mark didn’t think that was possible, still he had giggled along with Chenle, his chest tight as he had leaned over and placed the blunt between Chenle’s lips. Had stared at the column of Chenle’s neck and imagined sinking his teeth in, marking him until everyone knew.

It had crashed into him then, the fact that he had feelings for Chenle. Like seemed childish, but love hadn’t occurred to him at the time; it was more of an eternal fondness, an urge to stay near Chenle no matter what. 

It’s the same thoughts he’s having now, as he watches Chenle light the pipe and hold it out to Jeno. Renjun and Donghyuck’s lodge had a large deck with a firepit. They had stretched out around the deck, the whole group of them, lazing around on the outdoor seating. 

On their way over, Chenle had giggled, had stretched out his palm to show Mark his pipe and a baggie of weed. Mark had sat with Chenle in his car when they had arrived, letting Chenle hotbox it, until Jeno and Donghyuck had knocked on the window; Donghyuck rolling his eyes and inviting them out back.

Chenle’s ears are half-hidden behind his dyed blonde hair, but they’re bright red. Mark sits on his hands so he doesn’t reach over and touch them. He wants to press his cold fingers to Chenle’s skin, see if the skin turns white under his touch, see if Chenle turns to him and looks at him with even an ounce of the fondness Mark feels.

This time, the word love does come to him. It’s not exactly a realization that he’s in love with Chenle, he’s known that. He knows that the squeezing in his chest is just that, it’s his heart begging for love and not early on-set heart disease like Mark hoped.

Jeno takes a hit, coughing, and Mark is quick, reaching a hand behind Chenle to pat Jeno’s back as kindly as he can.

Jeno reaches for the water bottle at his feet, and Mark’s hand falls, resting behind Chenle. Chenle is leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs. Mark allows himself to touch, tracing where he imagines Chenle’s spine to be, wishing he could push his fingers against his pale skin and trace each vertebrae.  

Chenle lets out a hit, holding the pipe haphazardly and Mark reaches for it with his other hand, scooting ever so slightly closer, so that their thighs press together. Chenle hands him the pipe and bright yellow lighter, his skin is just as cold as Mark’s. 

Jeno slides off the bench, sitting closer to the firepit, and leaning back against Chenle’s shins. If Mark didn’t know Chenle so well, he would have missed the small upturn of Chenle’s mouth, the glimmer of hesitancy before he tangled his hands in Jeno’s hair, scratching the scalp.

Mark feels his stomach turn, takes another hit. It’s too much, his lungs burn and tears spring to his eyes.

Jeno leans back, eyes closed. Mark wishes he could reach forward, tangle his own fingers with Chenle’s in Jeno’s hair instead of touching Chenle through the padding in his parka. He wonders if Chenle can even feel it. 

Mark takes another hit, the smoke still burning in his lungs, and wonders what Chenle would do if Mark ever voiced any of his revelations out loud, if he ever managed to say I love you.

Chenle is giggling along with Jaemin, hanging off his back and talking to Donghyuck. Mark is too far away to hear what they’re saying.

Jeno is next to Mark, slumped against his shoulder and nodding absently to something Renjun is saying. Or maybe not absently, maybe he’s catching on to every word. 

Jeno smells like weed, and something deep and fresh; the weight of him against Mark is nice, even if his arm is falling asleep. Jeno’s skin is completely smooth, Mark has the urge to run his fingers over his nose, or along his jaw. So he pretends it’s the weed, when he reaches over and does so. Jeno’s jaw twitches, and Mark presses harder against the muscle.

Renjun says something and turns around to go talk to Jisung, rolling his eyes at Mark.

“Hey,” Jeno murmurs, looking up at Mark. He smiles, eyes crinkling. His voice is raspy, and thick, like he’s struggling to speak.

“Hey,” Mark says. His own tongue feels too large for his mouth. Jeno’s top lip is shaped like a bow, Mark thinks about Chenle and traces it in his mind. Jeno must notice because his mouth falls into an o-shape, sticking out his tongue quickly before grinning. “Sorry.”

“Are you high?” Jeno asks.

“Yeah, why.”

“Checking.” Jeno smiles slightly. He curls back into Mark’s side, turning away. Mark lets him, slouching down on the bench so Jeno can lean against him better. Chenle is explaining something, hands out-stretched in the way he does. Jaemin is nodding along. Mark chews on his bottom lip. 

“Chenle is really nice.” Jeno says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.”

“Wait, no. Not nice,” Jeno starts, then trails off.

“What do you mean?” Mark says after a while when Jeno doesn’t say anything. 

“Hm,” Jeno murmurs. “Does your body feel like really light?”

“It’s cause you’re like laying on top of me.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“You’re high,” Chenle stands in front of them, hands on his hips. 

Jeno blinks up at him, smiling. Chenle’s hands fall away, his face melting into fondness.

“My puppy and my–” 

Mark blinks up at Chenle, waits. 

“My Mark,” Chenle finishes, ruffling Mark’s hair and squeezing Mark’s cheek hard. 

“I’m your puppy?” Jeno asks, almost affronted. Mark feels the same. 

Chenle sits on the arm of the bench next to Mark, ignoring Jeno’s comment. “Donghyuck was helping me come up with a plan to meet Steph Curry.”

“Do you like him?” Jeno says, finally sitting up to look at Chenle. 

Chenle sputters, “Donghyuck? He’s getting married.” Chenle glances beyond them, at Renjun. 

“I meant this Steph guy.”

“Oh,” Chenle laughs. “Yeah, duh.”

Jeno slumps against Mark, knocking the wind out of him. 

“Wait, how are you gonna meet him?” Jeno sits up slightly, his elbow digging into Mark’s side by accident. 

“First,” Chenle says. “I have to move to San Francisco and get season passes. Then, I need to start going to enough games that he recognizes me as a big fan, you know. Then, once he recognizes me, I’m going to–”

“Who is this guy?” Jeno asks. “Why would you move?”

“He’s a basketball player.” Mark cuts in.

“He’s not just a basketball player,” Chenle interrupts, saying basketball player like it’s a dirty word.

“Of course,” Mark concedes.

“He’s my–” Chenle starts, a dreamy smile on his face before he cuts off, and clears his throat.

“What was the rest of your plan?” Mark asks before he gets jealous of Steph Curry. 

Chenle blinks at him, “Now I can’t remember.”

“Who is it again?” Jeno asks. 

Chenle stands and moves to sit next to Jeno. He grabs Jeno’s hands and shakes them lightly. “You not knowing Steph Curry is killing me.”

“I know Steph Curry,” Jeno frowns, still stumbling over his words. “I think I’m a little high.”

Chenle laughs, “Yeah. Are you having fun?”

“I think so,” Jeno says, cuddling further into Mark’s side, Mark wraps an arm around him.

“Are you a good puppy?” Chenle asks, tickling under Jeno’s chin, cooing. Jeno lets him.

Mark shifts, dragging Jeno slightly away. 

“Is Mark comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Jeno murmurs. 

Mark watches as Chenle’s face scrunches up in happiness, his eyes crinkled, teeth on full display. He leans towards Jeno, ruffling his hair. “Cute.” He sits back slightly, reaching into his parka’s pocket, and pulling out a bag with two pre-rolls. Mark watches as he takes out one and the same bright yellow plastic lighter. His fingers are pink, nails bitten down. 

Chenle takes a hit, and then hands it to Mark, Jeno pouting between them as Chenle ignores him.

Chenle notices because he laughs. Mark shouldn’t smoke, he’s too high already, and there’s a slight paranoia creeping in at the edges of his consciousness. Still, he puts the joint to his lips and takes a hip as Chenle wraps an arm around Jeno’s neck and brings him close, whispering something. Mark blows the smoke away from the two of them.

“Here,” he murmurs, handing the joint back to Chenle. 

Chenle takes a hit, holding the joint in his hand as if it were a cigarette, hanging haphazardly from his fingers, as he looks around. 

Jeno slouches down so he can lean his head against Chenle’s shoulder, his leg hooks around Mark’s ankle. “Do the thing.”

Chenle looks down at him, takes another hit, and then says, just soft enough for the three of them.. “Lean up,” his fingers lift Jeno’s chin slightly and then Chenle leans forward, taking one quick hit before coming even closer, blowing smoke into Jeno’s mouth. Their lips don’t touch, but Jeno goes slack, eyes fluttering close.

Chenle moves away and pushes delicately on Jeno’s jaw, so his mouth closes, willing Jeno to hold the smoke in. It escapes through Jeno’s nose, and then his mouth as Chenle leans back. Jeno falls back on Mark, looking up at him and blinking. “You next?”

Mark shakes his head just once, wraps an arm around Jeno. Jeno’s eyes are half-lidded. “It’s okay.” Chenle watches them, eyes sharp. He takes another hit. Mark wants to say something, wants to pull Chenle apart bit by bit and understand him. 

Before he can try to formulate his thoughts further than pure desire, Renjun sits next to Chenle, speaking softly in Mandarin, and taking Chenle’s joint from him. Jeno settles further into Mark’s side, murmuring soft words Mark can’t understand.

Anxiety is still playing at the edges of Mark’s brain, a deep buzzing that sounds a lot like Chenle will never love you.

Chenle takes off his gray beanie, shaking out his hair like he’s a puppy. He sheds his layers one by one, piling them up on the seat next to him. Black parka, bright blue-green fleece, the cashmere gloves Mark had gifted him right before this trip, matching Mark’s own.

He always somehow looks like he just rolled out of bed, and he’s no different now. His hair is a mess, he’s wearing a t-shirt over a tight, black long-sleeve, so that the t-shirt clings in parts. Mark finds him endlessly endearing.

“Jeno asked me about you,” Chenle says, slumping on the seat next to him, and grabbing Mark’s hot chocolate and taking a small sip. Then a larger one when he confirms he likes it. 

Mark had been answering some e-mails for work, had begged off from snowboarding, preferring to spend time alone in the main room of the resort.

“About me?” Mark trails the movement of Chenle’s throat and then looks out the window.

“He thought we were dating.” Mark does look at Chenle then, who is resting his chin in his hands and looking at Mark expectedly. 

“Us?” Mark pretends his voice doesn’t squeak.

Chenle either doesn’t hear or pretends not to, too caught up in whatever conversation he had with Jeno. “He was all like how long have you and Mark known each other? And I was like, since college–because that’s true, technically. And I said we had reconnected when you moved and he was all like second chance romance or some other bullshit. Maybe I shouldn’t have said reconnected, though?” Chenle’’s too caught up in remembering, stuttering and tripping over his words. “I didn’t even get to set the record straight because the stupid lift let us out, and then he was way faster than me, Mark. You should have seen him. I’m sure he could be like a professional or something. Like in the Olympics. It was kind of insane, actually. But when I got down—and I mean I’m not slow but there was this dad with his daughter, and it was cute don’t get me wrong, but there’s a bunny slope for a reason.”

Chenle reaches for Mark’s hot chocolate again, but doesn’t take a sip. “So when I got down he was already with Donghyuck and saying how cute we were. Like together.”

“You and Jeno?”

“Us!” His voice is too loud considering they're indoors, but Chenle doesn’t care or notice, taking a drink of Mark’s hot chocolate. “Donghyuck was playing into it too—saying we were an old married couple and how my mom says you’re her son-in-law.”

“That’s crazy,” Mark says because he doesn’t know what else to say. On more than one occasion they’d gotten the old married couple comparison, Chenle himself had used it. 

Chenle slumps over as if his body was made out of water. “Also all my muscles hurt. It feels like I rolled down the mountain.”

“I thought I saw a bundle rolling down.”

Chenle scowls. He takes another sip of Mark’s hot chocolate. “Anyway, I think Jeno might be stupid. And Donghyuck better pray I don’t object at his wedding.”

“What? I don’t think they do that at weddings anymore.”

“I tried to tell him, but Donghyuck kept contradicting me, so now Jeno thinks I’m like bethrottled to you.”

“Bethrored,” Mark corrects, a bit absently. 

“Sure,” Chenle says. 

“Throttled is a bit violent.” Mark pictures the opposite, caressing Chenle’s neck, pressing into the space behind his ear, the spot that he knows makes Chenle squirm and laugh. He gives into his impulse, caressing the back of Chenle’s neck in what he hopes is a friendly manner. 

“How am I supposed to fuck Jeno on this trip if he thinks I’m like married?”

Mark pretends his stomach doesn’t burn. “Tell him we have an open relationship.”

“Extremely open,” Chenle swallows the last of Mark’s hot chocolate.

Mark is a little bit drunk. The larger group of them had all had dinner together, and some of them had opted to do a night ski run. Jeno had gone to the slopes, but Chenle had said he was too tipsy and Mark had been secretly pleased. Johnny and Doyoung had sat with them in the sitting room, all four sharing more than enough bottles of wine.

Chenle is wrapped up in his comforter, and his lips are still red from the wine. Mark hesitates only once before crawling into bed with Chenle. 

“It’s cold,” Mark murmurs, his legs tangling with Chenle’s. 

“You’re cold,” Chenle mutters, turning so he’s facing Mark.

Mark stares at him for a moment, words he can’t say stuck in his throat. Instead of saying something he might regret, he turns around, and pushes back into Chenle. “I’ll be the little spoon.”

Chenle’s laugh is close to his ear, and a hand wraps around Mark’s middle. It’s only a moment before Chenle sneaks a hand up and under Mark’s shirt. Mark jumps and Chenle laughs.

He tries to settle into it, but Chenle’s hand can’t be still, trailing up and down his torso, pinky nail scratching against his chest, so that Mark’s whole body feels like a livewire, his dick stirring in interest. 

It’s when Chenle’s fingers stray too far, nail digging just under his waistband, and then up to tweak a nipple, laughing loud in Mark’s ear that Mark turns around, grabbing Chenle and turning him around forcefully. Chenle’s ticklish and he laughs even harder, his body curling in on itself. 

He settles down though once Mark wraps an arm around him, cuddling into his back, and burying his face into Chenle’s hair. It still slightly smells like smoke and weed from the day before and Mark can’t help but smile. “Did you shower?” It’s maybe not the best topic of conversation to prevent all the blood rushing to his dick. 

“Yeah,” Chenle mutters, voice muffled. “You should hit the slopes with me tomorrow.” 

“I think I’ve had my fill of snowboarding.” It’s a boner-killer if there ever was one. 

Chenle gasps, wiggles against him attempting to turn around but Mark holds on to him tightly. He closes his eyes just as tight, and thinks of snowboarding and falling down the mountain. “I can teach you,” Chenle whines.

Despite himself, Mark cuddles further into Chenle, taking in a deep breath of the smoke in his hair. “Maybe.”

Chenle sighs happily. “I miss my daughter.”

“Our daughter.”

“Your sister.”

“Is Yizhuo taking care of her?”

“Yeah. She’s gonna drop her off at the daycare, you’re still good to pick her up, right?” Chenle is heading to Vegas with Renjun. Yizhuo is also supposed to meet them, along with some of their other friends. 

“Of course,” Mark noses down Chenle’s hair, buries his nose in Chenle’s neck. He smells sweet, like condensed milk. Mark presses his lips against Chenle’s skin.

“Should I FaceTime her?” Chenle stretches away from Mark, reaching towards his phone resting on the small table between their beds. Mark splays his hand against Chenle’s stomach, feeling it rise and fall. 

He doesn’t have time to wonder if he pushed too far, because Chenle falls back against him, cuddles further against him. They’re close together, and Mark’s dick is interested, almost half-hard just from being this close to Chenle. Mark buries his face in Chenle’s neck again, listening as Chenle calls Yizhuo, greets her. The only word he catches is Daegal and then Chenle is cooing, making soft noises at his phone. Mark sits up then, balancing on his elbow to look at the screen. 

Daegal’s laying on her bed in the living room, she whimpers softly at the screen. 

“Do you think she recognizes me?” Mark murmurs, voice soft in Chenle’s ear. 

Yizhuo comes back on screen, grinning at them. She winks. “Small hotel room.”

Chenle responds in Mandarin and then demands Daegal get back on the screen. 

Yizhuo gets closer to the screen instead. “Are you drunk?”

“Obviously.” Chenle pouts. “Put Daegal back on screen.”

“No,” Yizhuo says. “Is Renjun there?”

“No. It’s our hotel room. Renjun is wherever.”

Yizhuo rolls her eyes. “Mark.”

Mark digs his chin into Chenle’s shoulder to see the screen more clearly. Mark feels something twist deep inside of him, he wishes he could trail kisses against Chenle’s skin. 

“Put Daegal back on,” Chenle says again, cutting Yizhuo from whatever she’s about to say.

“Here,” Yizhuo places her phone against something, so that they’re leveled with Daegal. “Watch her.”

“Finally,” Chenle says, cooing softly at Daegal. Mark settles back, closing his eyes. He hears Chenle talk to Daegal, and then what he imagines is Chenle and Yizhuo in Mandarin. He lets the timber of Chenle’s voice lull him to sleep.

“Oh,” Jeno laughs, his shoulders shaking, eyes turning into two crescents. Mark understands Chenle because Jeno is quite pretty. In another life, Mark thinks; although, if he’s honest, he can’t imagine a life where Chenle isn’t it for him.

It’s what he’s been thinking all day. He’d woken up tangled with Chenle, both of them sweaty. Chenle’s leg over Mark’s thigh, Chenle’s dick pressed into his hip, Mark’s hands pressed against Chenle’s back under his t-shirt. Chenle had pulled away first, murmuring about a headache. Mark hadn’t been hungover, and so he’d pushed a water bottle to Chenle and some ibuprofen before taking a shower. He’d touched himself then, coming against the tiles with his fist in his mouth. 

They’d had a late breakfast with Johnny and Doyoung, who held hands under the table the whole time. Then on the slopes, he had let Chenle lead him down, had let Chenle move his body every which way, and talk a mile a minute; the whole time thinking how nice it all was. How much he would like to live in that moment forever, even if he hated snowboarding and his fingers felt frozen enough that he was worried about frostbite. They’d spent the whole day together, just like that. 

By dinner, Mark’s body was aching, but there was a deep satisfaction in Mark’s bones. He had never felt so sure about Chenle. He wanted to probe Chenle, to see if Chenle had ever thought of him as more than just Mark. Had ever thought of them as MarkandChenle and not just Mark and Chenle. He wanted to know if Chenle ever thought of that night at the frat house. He wanted to know if Chenle had ever touched himself and thought of Mark.

They’d all gone to dinner together, had gotten sufficiently tipsy enough that they’d all agreed to rally enough to crowd into the already crowded hotel bar, the closest thing to a club the town had. It was packed with guests and visitors wearing large coats, melted snow and spilled beer underfoot so that the floor felt unsteady despite Mark having drank water all night. Mark had stuck to Chenle’s side, like the moon orbiting a planet, and Chenle had been happy to tug him along, both of them looking for Jeno.

Jeno had been happy to be cornered, his eyes bright and cheery. They’re bright and cheery now, maybe more so because Chenle had explained and over-emphasized the Mark and just friends while hinting that they should all hang out again back home and go surfing. Mark had cut in once, suggesting basketball instead, but Chenle had turned to Jeno, face serious and asked if he was any good. Had stuck to surfing when Jeno had shook his head no.

“I really thought you guys were doing the whole we like your vibe looking for a third kind of thing,” Jeno laughs. He’s nursing a drink that at some point might have been a vodka lemonade, but now was mostly melted ice.

Chenle turns pink.

Jeno goes on, still smiling. “I thought maybe when we smoked together and I nearly coughed out a lung, I had maybe missed my shot.”

Mark doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he hopes it’s neutral. Chenle’s mouth is slightly open. 

Jeno looks at Mark, then. “And when Mark didn’t want to shotgun, I for sure thought I had killed any chance.”

“Oh,” Chenle manages to say, his voice breaking slightly. “Wait, are you propositioning us?”

“Well, does it count if I thought you were propositioning me?” Jeno looks between them, and then makes eye contact with Mark again. There’s something in his eyes Mark can’t exactly place. It makes Mark feel a bit like a bug under a microscope. Mark looks away. Chenle is staring at Jeno and peeling a hangnail on his pinky with his teeth. “I thought it would be hot?”

“We’re not actually together,” Chenle manages to speak for both of them again, his hand dropping from his mouth.

Jeno shrugs, takes a sip of his drink. “It was just an idea.”

The bar is crowded and someone bumps into Chenle from behind, Mark reaches for him as he stumbles slightly, a hand on his back to steady him before it drops back to his side. Chenle’s hand finds Mark’s wrist, squeezing it, nails digging into the soft skin. Jeno grins confidently, trailing the movement. Mark’s stomach drops. 

He’s speaking before he knows what he wants to say, “That–that sounds fun.” His voice cracks at the first word and it takes a moment for Mark’s brain to catch up to what he’s said.

Immediately, he considers taking it back. Except he doesn’t want to take it back, not really. The thought of Chenle and Jeno sleeping together makes him want to jump into the ocean. If they’re going to hook up, then Mark would rather he be there too. It’s masochistic maybe, but there’s something even more pathetic about the thought of Chenle and Jeno together while Mark is alone and aware that they’re together. 

Chenle fixes him with a sharp gaze, but Jeno is smiling, seemingly relieved. “Good.” 

Jeno turns towards their group of friends, or well Donghyuck and Jaemin who are at a nearby table. Everyone else is spread throughout the bar, absorbed in their own conversations. But Donghyuck and Jaemin are wrapped up in what seems to be an intense conversation but Mark knows it is probably just a product of their dramatic expressions. “I’m sharing a room with Jisung, so unless you all want to have a foursome–”

Mark cuts him off, “Our room.” Jeno is bad enough. He’s not about to give Jisung the opportunity to fuck Chenle. 

Jeno looks at Chenle who has been quiet this whole time. There’s some sort of question on the tip of his tongue, but he seems to reconsider, biting his bottom lip. He looks at Mark again. “I’ll meet you both in like fifteen minutes, yeah? Room 408?”

Mark nods, tries not to think of why Jeno would know their room number unless Chenle had told him at some point, with some unknown intent. Jeno smiles softly, all coyness gone, as he nods and walks off.  

It’s not until Jeno disappears into the crowd that Mark steps away from Chenle. It seems to trigger Chenle awake because he looks at Mark then. “Did—?”

“I can—” If Mark said he was about to offer to step out, pretend he’s sick, pretend to sleep, he would be lying. 

Mark waits for Chenle to say something. Chenle waits for a moment as well, the silence hanging between them. “Jesus Christ,” he finally mutters, grabbing Mark’s hand and dragging him out of the hotel bar instead.

Mark stays quiet, following Chenle. Chenle doesn’t say anything else, but he also doesn’t let Mark’s wrist go. Not until they reach their room and Chenle lets go of him. Mark is surprised to see that his skin hasn’t been branded by Chenle’s touch. 

Chenle stumbles into the room, throwing off his shoes. His bed is still unmade from the morning, but Mark’s bed is pristine, and Chenle sits there, staring out blankly at the wall.

Mark didn’t think this through. 

He tries to find his voice, “I can leave? Pretend I–” The only thing that comes to mind is that they pretend he fell down the stairs, which is stupid. 

Chenle doesn’t answer, and Mark’s voice trails off.

“Chenle?” Mark says, sitting on Chenle’s unmade bed.

“Have you ever had a threesome?” Chenle asks, finally looking at Mark.

Mark can feel himself blushing. “No.” He could count the number of people he’s slept with on one hand—and Chenle is one of them, if drunken handjobs count. 

Mark hopes they count.

Chenle flops back on Mark’s bed, his shirt raises slightly, showing the tiniest sliver of skin above the waistband of his sweatpants. They’d gone to a nice restaurant for dinner, and Chenle had been lucky that the Renjun and Donghyuck had been so wrapped up in each other neither had scolded him for wearing sweatpants. Jaemin had though. 

Chenle tugs his shirt down. He groans but doesn’t say anything. 

“Chenle–” Mark is actually going to offer to leave, for real this time, when there’s a knock at their door. Too playful to be anyone but Jeno. 

Chenle rolls over, groaning into the duvet. Mark gets the door. 

In the warm light of the hotel room, Mark is once again struck with how handsome Jeno is. It tears him a bit in half. On one hand, Jeno is beautiful—muscular, with a sweet face, a kind smile, a pretty birthmark under his eye. Anyone would understand why Chenle chases after him. On the other hand, he wonders if this is who Chenle wants. It’s hard not to compare. 

“Are you asleep, Chenle?” Jeno asks, kicking Chenle’s foot gently. “Should Mark and I just fuck?”

“Jesus,” Chenle and Mark say at the same time. Jeno laughs. 

“I’m joking,” he looks around the room. Mark is sure that their hotel room looks the same as Jisung and Jeno’s. Jeno must notice that only one bed is clearly slept-in, but he doesn’t mention it. 

Chenle sits up, Jeno sits next to him on Mark’s bed, leaning back on his palms. His legs are relaxed, open. Mark imagines sinking on his knees between them. He tears his gaze away, instead watching Jeno’s easy expression. He looks between the two of them, and smiles. It’s earnest and kind, too open. Mark turns his head away.

Jeno lets out a soft breath. “Chenle-yah,” Mark hears the bed creak slightly and he watches as Jeno pushes Chenle back, crawling on to his lap, caging him in against the mattress. “Chenle.” Chenle wraps his arms limply around Jeno’s waist.

Mark moves ever so slightly, just so he can see better, can watch Chenle closer. He sees then Jeno’s hands snaking up Chenle’s shirt.

“Chenle, do you want to kiss me?”

Chenle makes the smallest noise from the back of his throat. Mark sits shakily down on Chenle’s bed, closer to Jeno and Chenle than before, watching them carefully. Jeno leans down and kisses Chenle’s neck, pulls down the collar of Chenle’s t-shirt and licks his clavicle, before kissing back up. Chenle turns his head, giving Jeno more room to kiss his neck, his eyes meeting Mark’s. Mark feels his insides burn as Chenle’s eyes flutter close. Mark wishes he could kiss away Jeno’s touch.

Jeno tilts Chenle’s face delicately towards himself, kisses up his jaw, kisses the corner of his lips, and then they’re kissing. Mark wishes he could look away.

Instead, he gives in, watches the way their bodies seem to melt together. Trails the way Jeno touches Chenle’s torso, rucks up his t-shirt so it’s bunched above his chest, his fingers running up and down Chenle’s side, playing with his nipple. He catches each of Chenle’s noises, high and whiny, needy. He catches the way Chenle grips on to Jeno’s waist, catches the way Chenle’s hips twitch up, seeking friction.

He misses then Jeno pulling away, calling for him, so that when he realizes, Jeno is smirking at him and Chenle is staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s forgotten Mark was in the room.

“Aren’t you coming?” Jeno asks again. He looks less affected than Chenle, smirking at Mark.

Mark should excuse himself, instead he finds himself moving towards his own bed, kneeling near them. Jeno doesn’t wait, a hand cupping the back of Mark’s head and bringing him close. He must still be touching Chenle, because Chenle gasps under them, a small moan floating towards Mark.

Unlike with Chenle, Jeno doesn’t tease him, pressing their lips together almost instantly. Mark forgets to close his eyes at first, and he can’t help but look at Chenle. Chenle’s eyes are wide, pupils blown out, yet focused on them. 

Jeno bites Marks bottom lip harshly and Mark tears his eyes away, eyes shutting close and kissing Jeno with fervor. 

Jeno is objectively a good kisser. His lips are soft and taste like cherry chapstick, and his bottom lip is plump enough for Mark to scrape his teeth against. But Mark can’t fall into it, not with Chenle below them, his soft whimpers indescribably loud in Mark’s ears.

Jeno pulls away and then leans down, bringing Mark along so that he’s practically pressed against Chenle as Jeno kisses Chenle. It’s all tongue and teeth, harsh enough that Chenle’s hands reach out, gripping the back of Jeno’s hair and Mark’s t-shirt. 

Chenle whines into the kiss, and Mark can’t help but notice how Jeno smiles into it, self-assured. He pulls off just a bit, enough to reach for Mark, grab Mark’s palm and press it against Chenle’s cock. Chenle’s mouth falls open, eyes rolling back as Mark applies soft pressure, his touch light. 

And then Chenle is dragging Jeno down, kissing him. Jeno gives in for a moment, and then pulls away, and Chenle chases after him, his hips suddenly moving up, pressing against Mark’s palm, a broken moan leaving his mouth. Jeno pushes him down with one hand, swatting Mark’s hand away. “Slow, baby.” Mark doesn’t know if Jeno’s talking to Chenle or himself. He’s about to resume his movements, eager to touch Chenle when Jeno lays back, pulling Mark closer to him by the collar, so that Mark’s body is hovering over Chenle’s again. Jeno kisses Mark once, lips closed, and then turns Mark’s head towards Chenle.

Chenle stares up at him with wide eyes.

Mark only hesitates a moment before he swings a leg over Chenle, taking Jeno’s spot and straddling him. Their faces are too close.

Mark kisses him.

Chenle’s lips are chapped, and he tastes like whiskey. He kisses Mark back hesitantly. He lets Mark take the lead, and Mark tries not to think about how he’s too eager to push into Chenle, their teeth hitting awkwardly before Mark finds a rhythm with it, before he can feel Chenle melt into it.

Kissing Chenle feels natural, simple, like they should be doing this all the time. Their bodies are pressed together, and Mark takes, trailing his hands all over Chenle’s body. His skin is covered in goosebumps, and Mark tries to soothe it, running his hands up and down until Chenle’s skin burns. Chenle’s cock pushes against Mark’s, and Mark gives, grinding against him, not caring that the denim of Mark’s jeans is harsh or that his belt digs uncomfortably into his skin. Nothing matters so long as Chenle keeps grinding up, whining high in his throat and Mark kisses him.

It’s a shock then when Chenle pushes him away, sitting up quickly.

Mark stumbles off Chenle, and Chenle crawls off the bed. Jeno sits up quickly; Mark still feels like the room is spinning on an axis.

“Chenle?” Jeno asks. His calm demeanor is a sharp contrast to how Mark feels inside, and to the clear, frantic energy that Chenle is exhibiting.

“I don’t think I want—I don’t like—this was a mistake. This. Threesome.” He manages to choke out. His lips are bright red, bottom lip shiny with spit. Mark wants to kiss him again.

“Okay,” Jeno is saying, tone still calm. Mark tries to focus, to understand. He wants to reach for Chenle, to wrap his arms around his frame and continue to kiss him until he can’t breathe.

“Sorry, this is so–”

“Hey, Chenle, it’s fine, really.” Jeno shrugs, and then reaches for Mark’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “It’s okay, right, Mark?”

“Sure, totally,” he manages, although he’s not sure he gets it. He wants Chenle back in bed, wants Chenle’s weight on top of him, wants to kiss him again and again. “Are you coming back?”

Chenle furrows his eyebrows, then sits down on the floor, bringing his knees up and resting his chin on them. “Sorry, I just.” 

“Are you just not into threesomes?” Jeno lays on Mark’s bed, facing Chenle, his feet swinging up. 

Mark feels dizzy. “Wait, is–” Mark chokes out. Is it me on the tip of his tongue. Mark tries to meet Chenle’s eyes, but Chenle avoids his eyes. 

“I think,” he pauses, fingers digging into his shins. “I just didn’t think this through.”

Jeno nods, “No harm, no foul.” He looks around the room. “It’s okay, really,” he says again when it’s clear Chenle’s trying to apologize again. “Sorry to have been presumptuous but I really thought I was going to stay over, and told Jisung and I think he took someone to our room.”

“You can stay,” Chenle murmurs, finally standing up. He sits gingerly on his unmade bed. His lips are red, and he chews on the bottom one thoughtfully. 

An awkward silence settles over the room. It’s Chenle that finally breaks it. “I’m gonna get ready for bed, then.” 

Jeno follows his lead, then finally, Mark. So by the time he’s done brushing his teeth in the bathroom, the lights in the room are out and Jeno and Chenle are sleeping soundly in the same bed Mark and Chenle had occupied the night before.

Chenle is tight around Mark, his sharp fingernails digging into Mark’s arms. Mark can feel his orgasm approaching, and he speeds up his movements, trying to get Chenle to come before he does.

“Fuck, baby.” Mark can’t tell if it’s him or Chenle over the roaring in his ears. Chenle whines, reaching for his cock, leaking against his stomach.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Chenle falls against him, panting into Mark’s neck, mouth open. Mark continues his thrusts, fucking up into Chenle, bouncing him on his lap. “So fucking pretty, baby, all mine.”

Chenle moans, hands burning against Mark’s skin. Mark wraps an arm around Chenle’s waist, steadying them and grabs Chenle's hair, tugging his head back. Chenle can’t meet Mark’s eyes, his eyes rolling back in bliss, mouth open. There’s a trail of spit on his bottom lip, and Mark pulls him close, kisses him.

Mark is close, his thrusts slightly erratic, even as he aims for Chenle’s prostate. “Wanna come, baby?” Mark flips them, so that Chenle falls on his back, splayed under Mark. His eyes are wide, hand still around his cock. Mark hooks a hand under Chenle’s thigh, lifting his leg so that Mark can slide in with more ease. Their skin sticking together. 

Chenle arches off the bed, his orgasm hitting him.

He twitches under Mark, whining even as Mark continues. His orgasm is right there, and Mark speeds up chasing his release. “Mine, mine, mine, say it, baby. You’re mine.”

Mark wakes up, startled, his orgasm ripped away. His body is covered in a thin layer of sweat. He rolls over in bed, facing Chenle’s bed. He can only make out the silhouette of them. Mark buries his face in his pillow, holds his breath and counts to ten, trying to suffocate.

Mark had been half-drunk when he met Chenle. He didn’t remember when they had actually met, who had introduced them, but one moment Mark had looked up and Chenle had been there.

Chenle was friendly, talking a mile a minute, and wearing a Warriors jersey over a white t-shirt that somehow looked slept-on even if Mark could only really see the sleeves and the collar. Chenle’s hair had been dyed a blonde that badly needed purple shampoo. He had been carrying a bottle of blue Gatorade with him, the color diluted, clearly mixed with alcohol. He had handed the bottle to Mark, only mentioning off-hand that it was Everclear when Mark had taken a sip.  

It had barely stung, and Mark remembered looking at the bottle waiting for it to burn. Chenle had taken it back, had taken a swig and then continued talking about the basketball game from the day before. 

Mark hadn’t remembered how it had happened. And in the time he’s been friends with Chenle, he’s never asked. He remembered the important parts and that’s all that mattered.

He remembered Chenle’s mouth open, tongue out, waiting for box wine to spill into his mouth. A guy taller than both of them holding it up, cheering and laughing, one hand on the back of Chenle’s neck supporting him. The touch too close to a caress, gentle in a way that had made Mark’s mouth run dry.

He remembers the red wine spilling into Chenle’s mouth, little rivets falling down his chin. 

He remembers Chenle turning to him as if in slow motion, grinning at him. How he had looked vampiric, the wine the color of blood coating his teeth. The wine spilling down his neck and on to his shirt, staining the collar.

Mark remembers pushing Chenle into the bathroom, pulling Chenle’s jersey and then his t-shirt off and running the white fabric under the sink. You can’t let these set. He remembers saying although he knew nothing about laundering and Chenle had pointed out it was just a white t-shirt, the tag cut out and a small hole in the back of the collar.

Mark had scrubbed at it furiously, until the stain had turned pink. Chenle had shivered in the bathroom, shirtless, jersey in hand, and had watched.

Mark had looked at Chenle, at his red-stained mouth and his thin frame and had pressed against him, had pushed him against the door and kissed him. It was a desire Mark hadn’t felt before. He didn’t know if he liked boys, but he decided it didn’t matter. Decided he could spiral about it later. 

Chenle’s mouth was open and warm and he kept making soft noises that settled deep within Mark. They had spurred him further so that he remembers running his fingers up Chenle’s bare chest, digging his fingers into Chenle’s ribs almost violently. Until Chenle had gasped, sharp and high in pain and shoved his hands away.

Still he took more, kissed Chenle until every touch felt soft and sweet, like they weren’t in a bathroom at a frat house. He had been too inexperienced to be coy about anything, had pushed Chenle’s sweatpants down with fervor, exposing pale thighs and light blue boxers.

He remembers it as if he were watching from above. His hand shaking as it snaked inside Chenle’s boxers, had touched him without looking at him, too scared to put a name to what they were doing. What Mark was doing.

Now, Mark knows it was probably a shitty handjob. It was rough and dry, and the angle was awkward, movements limited by fabric. But Mark can still remember the whimpers that fell out Chenle’s mouth, so quiet compared to his fast, boisterous talking.

His own hard-on had been ignored. In his frenzied desire, all that mattered was making sure Chenle felt good. Making sure the sounds of pleasure didn’t stop. Watching Chenle’s face break apart, his whole body shaking. Getting used to the weight of someone else’s dick in Mark’s palm. 

At the edge of it all, Mark had been trying to place how he felt about it. In the moment, he had already been thinking about it as if it were in the past. Whether he would give in to the shame later. Whether he would be able to determine whether the nausea was from the alcohol or what he was  doing. 

Chenle had come without any real warning, his fingers tugging painfully at Mark’s hair, back arching away from the door. His chest was heaving, a pale pink. 

His come was all over Mark’s hand and Mark remembered licking between his fingers. Trying to decide if he liked it. 

He remembered later too, throwing up at home, the taste of blue Gatorade and come coating his mouth.   

Chenle’s been ignoring him.

Well, no. Not really.

He’s been giving Mark the cold shoulder which is somehow worse. Mark asks if he should take another class, hoping Chenle will volunteer to be his teacher again but all he says is if you want. Mark asks what he’s planning to do and Chenle says snowboard. Mark asks if they can plan to meet for lunch and Chenle says I’m not very hungry even though it’s nine in the morning and Mark figures he’ll have to eat at some point. It’s worse than being ignored. Chenle is all cold responses that Mark knows Chenle wants Mark to pretend are normal.

He skips the class, instead opting again to stay in the main sitting area. He watches as Chenle bounds off with Johnny, Doyoung, Jeno, and Donghyuck. His arm is around Jeno, walking too close.

He’s still there, hours later, absorbed in a book when Jisung slides into the seat next to Mark. “Hey.”

Renjun sits next to Jisung. They’re both carrying coffees. Jisung’s lid on his cup isn’t on properly and it splashes onto the table. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Hey,” Mark says. He’s surprised his voice is thick.

“So, Jeno, huh?” Jisung takes a noisy sip of his coffee, slurping from the rim before tightening the lid.

Mark glances at Renjun. Of course Jisung knows. Jeno told him, Jeno told them he’d told Jisung. But if Renjun knows, then Donghyuck knows, and then it's only a matter of time before all their friends know about their feeble attempts at a threesome.

He tests the waters. Lies. “What do you mean?”

He feels a bit bad when Jisung’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Huh? He said he was gonna fuck—”

“Okay, yes.” Mark cuts in, waving a hand in front of Jisung. “Jesus. What happened to hey good morning, how are you?”

Jisung frowns, “I literally just said that?”

“Hey counts?” Renjun says. Mark still can’t meet his eyes.

Once upon a time, when Jaemin and Donghyuck would still hook up on occasion, when Chenle had introduced Mark to Renjun days before Renjun and Donghyuck had met (and for weeks after), Mark had harbored a crush on Renjun. Renjun was sweet, careful and thoughtful with his actions and his words, even if sometimes he was just a little mean. He was pretty too, small enough that Mark had felt the need to wrap his arms around him, see if he felt steady or flighty. That crush had been shot when Donghyuck and Renjun had met, and then fizzled out eventually, maybe forcefully when it was evident Donghyuck and Renjun were crazy about one another. Mark had never voiced those feelings out loud, but Chenle’s comment from earlier in the week comes back to mind as Renjun sits across from him and make Mark burn in shame. He wonders if he was ever very secretive about it.

“The good morning was implied.” Jisung whines, then looks at Mark. “So, how was it?”

“I didn’t—”

“Did Chenle and Jeno kick you out?” Jisung asks. “I knew there was something going on between them.”

“You think there’s something going on between them?” Mark does look at Renjun then, waiting for him to weigh in. He’s been friends with Chenle longer. Renjun shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. It’s as good as a yes.

Jisung sighs. “I really wanted to know if Jeno was any good at—”

“Really, Jisung?” Renjun asks.

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Good at what?”

“Sucking dick.”

Renjun and Mark are silent, Mark is sure his face is bright red.

“Is it a crime to be curious?” Jisung crosses his arms.

“Well I wouldn’t know if he was good at… anything. We didn't sleep together. We just—slept.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Jisung pats him on the shoulder. “Well, not to me obviously. My dick works fine. I did—”

“You guys got cold feet?” Renjun’s looking at him as if he’s trying to figure something out.

Mark nods. “There’s nothing wrong with my dick.”

“Sure,” Jisung placates.

“I’m serious. We were—” kissing sounds lame suddenly, juvenile, like they hadn’t even tried. But he doesn’t want to divulge any other details, how solid and real Chenle had felt below him, the little noises he made as Mark grinded against him.. “It’s just–” Mark re-routes. “Have you guys ever had a threesome?”

“Are you asking if we’d be down to have a threesome? Because I’d be down,” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows, then laughs. “But seriously, no.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Renjun asks, slapping his arm.

“Cabin fever. I swear I’m going stir-crazy here.” Jisung says, as if he were just waiting for someone to ask. His tone is whiny. “Doesn’t this place remind you guys of The Shining?”

“No?” Mark says.

Renjun ignores Jisung, rolling his eyes. “I have.” He holds out a hand before either Jisung or Mark can cut in with questions. “Jaemin, Hyuck, and I.”

“Wow.” Mark needs to tell Chenle. “Was it weird?”

Renjun closes his eyes, seemingly considering how much to tell. “No, it was fine.” Apparently the answer is: say nothing.

“C’mon,” Jisung begs. “Give us something.”

Mark is about to join in, happy with the distraction when Donghyuck slides into the seat next to Renjun. He’s in snow pants and a large parka that gives him a childish look. He takes Renjun’s coffee. Mark looks around the sitting area, spots Chenle and Jeno near the entrance, near the coffee bar.

Chenle’s eyes meet Mark’s across the way for half a second before he looks away, hands on Jeno’s arms. Mark’s eyes follow him until they leave.

Donghyuck is talking about the slopes, and Mark latches on. “I’ll come with,” he says when Donghyuck gets up to leave. 

Donghyuck looks Mark up and down. “You’re wearing jeans.”

“I’ll change,” Mark is already gathering his stuff. Donghyuck sits back down.

Mark is quick to change, grabbing his rented gear. Thankfully, Donghyuck is still waiting for him downstairs, and they head out together towards the slopes. Mark swallows roughly, he’s nervous. He shares as much with Donghyuck. 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck gets on the ski lift and so does Mark. “Can you even snowboard?”

The answer is no. He’s pretty sure the little he managed to learn the other day is gone too. Plus, in his rush to change Mark had slipped on Chenle’s snow pants, and they’re digging uncomfortably into his waist. Mark shakes his head.

“You’re dumb.” Donghyuck offers, unbothered.

It’s an understatement. It’s painfully embarrassing to go down the slope. Mark manages to stay upright enough to make it halfway down the slope, before he falls unceremoniously on his ass. He manages to crawl to the side, and then rights himself up again. He repeats this over and over. Managing to snowboard down a few yards before falling again, righting himself, before falling yet again.

Donghyuck is waiting for him at the bottom of the slope. He frowns, “That was painful to watch.” 

“It was more painful for me, asshole.” He manages a weak punch on Donghyuck’s arm. Donghyuck doesn’t even flinch, but Mark hits one of the zippers on Donghyuck’s jacket and pain shoots up his fingers. 

Despite knowing better, Mark follows Donghyuck back to the ski lift. There’s no way to learn if he doesn’t keep trying.

“Hyuck,” Jeno calls, he’s windswept and smiling and standing near Jaemin who has a camera aimed at Chenle posed by some large trees. “Mark.”

Chenle doesn’t acknowledge them, face tilted and following Jaemin’s direction. 

Hyuck wraps an arm around Jeno’s shoulders. “Race to the bottom?”

“Yeah,” Jeno nods, waving at them all before they head off to be taken up.

Mark considers following them, but his legs hurt and he’d rather stay near Chenle. 

Jaemin continues giving direction and Chenle follows. Mark takes the opportunity to watch him, until he feels the knife twist and twist more, bile rising in his throat. 

“That’s good,” Jaemin says, he’s winding back his roll. “My perfect model, I owe you.”

Chenle nods, “No worries.” He glances at Mark.

“Ok, well there’s a hot chocolate calling my name.” Jaemin glances between the two of them. He grins and Mark wonders if Jaemin knows about the failed threesome. He bounds off without another word. 

“You should be on the bunny slopes.” Chenle frowns at him. 

“I just snowboarded down that one,” Mark points somewhere behind them.

Chenle looks him up and down. “Why are you wearing my pants?”

“Sorry,” Mark says. 

Chenle shrugs, and then starts walking towards the lifts. Mark follows even though he doesn’t really want to crawl down the mountain again.

Chenle gets in the lift, and Mark follows. 

“Am I being weird?” Chenle asks once they’re off the ground.

“Yeah.” Mark says. “Am I being weird?”

“Maybe.” Chenle looks out the lift. Mark does too but all the white makes him dizzy. The mountain melting together with the sky. Mark closes his eyes, his stomach rolling. “No you’re not,” Chenle says. “I am. Are you into Jeno?” Mark’s eyes shoot open. “Because I’m maybe a little jealous and a little weird because it feels like you’re into Jeno.”

“I’m not.”

Chenle stares at Mark. “Because you looked really into it. Like at the end when we were um—before it ended. Or like at the end. You just looked um, disappointed.” Chenle is light pink. “And I just think that’s a little unfair because it was supposed to be about me.”

“It was about you!” Mark hardly even remembers Jeno. All his thoughts are Chenle, Chenle, Chenle.

But Chenle keeps talking. “Not me, like about me.” He’s still blushing. “Like me with Jeno. But you seemed really into kissing Jeno and into the whole thing.”

“I was—” Mark considers telling Chenle. Then he considers falling off the ski lift and to his inevitable death. “I’m sorry.”

Chenle looks at him. “Because I was into Jeno first.”

“Okay,” Mark nods.

“And it’s unfair if you were into him.”

“I’m not into him.” Mark says, picturing Jeno, trying to recall how it felt to kiss him. 

Chenle looks out the ski lift again. Mark takes the moment to trace his profile. His lips are chapped. 

Chenle licks his lips nervously, tongue darting out. “It’s okay if you think he’s hot or whatever.”

“Okay.”

Chenle’s eyes lock with his. “Because he is. But you shouldn’t have sex with him.”

Mark doesn’t point out that they were all going to have sex.

“I won’t, I’m sorry.”

“Promise.” Chenle pushes.

Mark nods, sticks out his gloved pinky for Chenle to hook with his own, Chenle does. “Promise.”

Chenle lets out a shaky breath, his face finally breaking into a smile. “Good. Now, let’s get off this mountain and head to the bunny slopes, yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” Mark whispers in the dark. They’re leaving in the morning, already the larger group had splintered off. Johnny and Doyoung had left earlier in the day, as had Jaemin. Mark is heading back home tomorrow and driving Donghyuck back, and a smaller group of them is driving to Vegas for Renjun’s bachelor party—Chenle included. 

He’s not sure what’s compelling him to speak, other than he’s starting to picture Chenle slip from his fingers and he’s scared. Arguably, not the best reason to act. 

Yet. He can’t help himself; there’s been something sitting inside his body for too long, and he’s scared it’s rotting inside of him.

He’s not sure Chenle is going to respond, but he does, his voice thick with sleep, floating towards Mark. “What?”

“When did you realize you liked boys?” Mark’s arm is falling asleep, a dead weight at his side, squeezed between his body and the mattress. But he doesn’t move, instead he holds his breath.

Chenle moves, the mattress’ springs creak. Mark is scared he’s going to turn on the light on the nightstand. It stays dark. “Boys,” he repeats as if trying to place the word. “In ninth grade.”

“Kun Qian?”

Chenle laughs, a real laugh, like Mark’s comment had surprised him. “No, not Kun.” He’s quiet for a bit, and then says. “I don’t know if I realized it was a thing, it was just.” He trails off again, and Mark knows he’s trying to not just bulldoze through a response, that he’s thinking about how to formulate his response. Mark waits, tries to flex his fingers so his arm wakes up. “When I was in ninth grade I had a crush on this girl, Taylor. She was cute, it was just a little crush. But I had the same feelings about her older brother? He was cute too. Kenny. I guess at the time I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

Mark hums. 

“I still don’t.”

Mark hums again, except it sounds a bit strangled.

He waits for it.

And waits.

But Chenle doesn’t speak. So Mark says, “Will you ask about mine?”

“Do you like guys?”

“Are you asking?” Mark asks. Chenle’s inflection is more like he doesn’t believe Mark does like guys. 

“Sure, yes.”

“Chenle.” They’ve never talked about this, and he feels a bit desperate asking. It feels a bit like a knife twisting inside of him that Chenle doesn’t already know. That it wouldn’t be obvious that Mark is into guys—as if kissing Chenle (and Jeno), as if hooking up with Chenle meant nothing. He wants to ask, push on that, ask Chenle what it means then. But he bites his tongue instead and tries to dispel the ringing in his ears, tries to blink back the wetness in his eyes. Focuses on Chenle’s soft breathing. 

“When did you realize you were–” Chenle stumbles, and Mark fills in the blank. Bisexual. Gay. Pan. Queer. Whatever. “Into guys?”

“Junior year of college.” He says, voice soft enough that he hopes Chenle doesn’t catch the shakiness in it. 

He waits, determined not to speak until Chenle acknowledges his response. 

The silence hangs heavy between them and Mark is scared Chenle had drifted off to sleep, but Chenle’s voice is just as soft, kind. “Oh.”

“Late?” Mark asks. He’s asking for easiness, for teasing, he wants the heaviness to lift.

Chenle must get it, because his voice is just as kind, but with a hesitantly playful tone, “A little.”

“I was a little high, a little drunk at a party. And there was this… guy.” 

“Sure,” Chenle encourages. 

Mark can picture him nodding. He can picture his perfectly dyed blonde hair, can picture the brassy blonde he used to have. He breathes in through his nose, holds it, releases it. “I don’t remember how, or even, why. I just remember this–this little freshman offering me Everclear.” Mark hopes Chenle can’t hear that he’s crying, he hopes that Chenle is kind enough to pretend he isn’t. “I think something just gripped me, took over me. Like I. And I thought I wanted. I wanted to touch you so badly.”

“M–” Chenle starts, soft.

“I don’t know if it was you-–or if something ugly had always been inside of me, waiting. But I still do.”

“Not ugly.” Chenle whispers. 

“I still do, Chenle.”

“Mark.” 

Mark expects Chenle to crawl into bed with him, wants Chenle’s fingers around his wrist, his nails digging in.

He doesn’t though, and that feels like it’s own type of heartbreak.

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

Chenle doesn’t say anything for so long Mark starts to drift off, his tears dry on his face. 

“Tell me again,” Chenle finally says, voice sure and steady, loud in the stillness of the room.

“I lo–”

“Not now. Not now,” Chenle cuts in. “Tell me when you’re sure.”

He does, but he understands what Chenle means. He knows that if they take this step, if Mark manages to say I love you there’s no going back.

And then, because he’s masochistic, “Do you?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m sure.”

Chenle is gone in the morning. It shouldn’t be surprising, it had been the plan anyway, but it is. Mark had hoped Chenle would have shaken him awake to say goodbye. 

Half of Chenle’s luggage and all his snowboarding gear is sitting by the door, clean and tidy, waiting for Mark to lug it back home. It’s at least a promise that Chenle won’t disappear from his life. That, and the fact he’s meant to pick up Daegal from her daycare tomorrow morning.

Mark has a late check-out, but he doesn’t sleep in. Instead he sits in the main sitting room and watches the slopes waiting for Donghyuck, and chews on his fingernails checking Chenle’s location fanatically.

Donghyuck comes in closer to noon, Jeno on his heels. Donghyuck’s hair is messy, flat in the back and standing up on one side, his cheeks red. He’s grinning, clearly happy. He falls back on the couch, pulling Jeno down with him. “Jeno was kind enough to stay behind and ski with me, so is it okay if he heads back with us?”

Jeno offers Mark a sheepish smile. “Jisung left this morning. Coerced by Renjun to go to Vegas.”

Mark doesn’t know what to do with that information, or what he’s supposed to say other than yes, so he says it, nodding. Honestly, he’d been hoping to never see Jeno again. 

“Great,” Donghyuck grins, clapping his hands once and pushing off the couch. “We’re gonna change and then we can go.”

Despite Mark’s hesitations, the drive is nice. Donghyuck controls the aux even though he opted to sit in the back, body across all three seats. But he plays songs they all seem to know, and he’s nice enough to keep the conversation going, bouncing from topic to topic. The slopes, their friends, Renjun, the wedding. 

They stop at a gas station, their choice of fast food all around. It’s unnecessary. Mark has enough gas and they’re not too far from home, but Donghyuck whines that a road trip is nothing without greasy food and snacks. Mark doesn’t point out it’s less of a road trip and more of a long drive. 

As soon as Mark comes back with enough French fries for them to share and three sodas, Donghyuck gets a call from Renjun. Mark can only half catch what Renjun is yelling about—something or other about a vendor cancelling, and Donghyuck is quick to slip out of the car to handle whatever it is, muttering soft platitudes to Renjun that make Mark feel like he’s intruding. 

Donghyuck is still making those calls, walking along a thin strip of grass at the edge of the lot, smoking a cigarette. 

It’s a little awkward for Mark with Jeno alone in the car. But he focuses on eating. They hadn’t talked about their almost threesome, and Mark didn’t want to, but Mark figures he should probably practice honesty instead of letting everything fester. Plus, it seems unlikely that his wish of never seeing Jeno again would ever come true.

“We never talked about the other night.”

Jeno chews on his food, leaning back against the car seat. “We still don’t have to.”

“Oh. Cool. Yeah.” Mark lets out a small sigh of relief. 

Jeno giggles, he blinks at Mark, slow and languid. He’s too pretty. Mark swallows around the lump in his throat, Chenle and Jeno make an enviable pair. “You know I asked Chenle out.”

“What? When?” Mark sees everything slip from his hands like sand. He pictures third wheeling JenoandChenle. Pictures becoming Mark and Chenle. But then he recalls the happiness on Chenle’s face when Jeno had carried him on his back, the giggles he’d let out at the mention of Jeno. “I mean, that’s great,” he lies. He checks his phone. He’s surprised Chenle hadn’t mentioned it yet. It feels like something he would have mentioned even if he was a little… mad? Upset? Unsure with the footing of their friendship? 

It seems a bit cruel that this would have happened after Mark finally confessed—or tried to confess. It seems a bit unfair that Chenle wouldn’t mention it.

“It was last summer, maybe June?” Jeno goes on, cutting through Mark’s thoughts. Instantly, Mark feels his chest loosen. “He was with Jisung, we went surfing. I got his number. We talked like all summer. And I don’t know, he’s cute isn’t he?”

Mark remembers. Chenle had gone to the beach just once last summer. He’d whined to Mark for weeks about his sunburn, laying on Mark’s couch, covered in aloe vera gel with the air conditioning blasting. He hadn’t mentioned Jeno then, hadn’t mentioned talking to Jeno.

Mark isn’t expecting Jeno to actually be looking for an answer, but Jeno waits, silence looming. Mark nods, clearing his throat before mumbling, “Yeah.”

“He’s cute, he’s fun, but he’s in love with you.”

“He’s not.” 

Jeno pops another fry in his mouth. He shrugs, “Whatever. Believe it, don’t. I saw you both that night. But I’m just saying, I’ve tried.”

“Okay.” Mark is still having difficulty with visions of JenoandChenle.

“I’m just saying.”

“I know.” His soda is too sweet, it makes his teeth ache. “He’s not–” Mark considers confessing everything to Jeno, get a different perspective on his conversation with Chenle. But then thinks that might be in poor taste.

Jeno sighs, long and tired, “Not to be pushy here, but like if by Hyuck’s wedding you’re not together, I am going to steal him.”

Mark looks at Jeno and considers punching him, his hands curling into fists. He’s sure Jeno could easily beat him up though. Jeno grins as if reading his thoughts, it’s too mischievous. “And if you’re ever looking for a third.”

Mark feels his body deflate. “Fuck you.” There’s no bite to it. He’s smiling.

“Yes, please. I’ve been trying.”

Donghyuck is not smiling when Mark takes the wrong exit on the highway, tapping the glass and offering to re-route them.

Donghyuck taps the glass again, angrily when Mark explains they’re going to Vegas. A quick trip. He just has something to clear up with Chenle.

Donghyuck screams then, loud. Jeno laughs, rolls down the window and sticks his head out and copies Donghyuck’s scream. He falls back on the seat and laughs, hair windswept and eyes happy.

It’s seconds before Donghyuck is leaning over the seat, wrapping an arm around Jeno and pretending to choke him. Jeno giggles even as Donghyuck threatens to take Jeno hostage if Mark doesn’t release him.

Mark slows the car down enough to pull over to the side of the highway, “Get out then.”

“Fuck you,” Donghyuck says, they’re in the middle of nowhere. “Just drive.” Mark does.

“It’s for love,” Jeno sings from the front seat. 

“Shut up, you just want to fuck them both.”

“Well, yeah,” Jeno shrugs.

Donghyuck sits back sulkily and changes the music. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you.” He chants, so that it all blends together. Mark glances at him in the rearview mirror. 

“Hyuck.”

“Of course I want you to be happy. I just think you can be happy when Chenle comes back. Or when I’m not in the car.”

“It’ll be quick,” Mark says.

“Nothing about this trip is quick!” Donghyuck yells. He screams again. Mark and Jeno wait. “Okay. Fine.”

When he starts chain smoking in Mark’s backseat, Mark doesn’t say anything. 

Mark’s shoulders are tense when they crawl into Vegas and on to the strip. He circles the strip once, suddenly overcome with nerves. He’s about to circle the strip again when Jeno gives him a sharp enough look to have Mark pull as close as he can to the curb. He throws on the hazards and hands the keys to Jeno. “Drive around the block, I’m just going to tell Chenle real quick. I’ll be back.”

“We are not just dri—” but Mark slams the car door and cuts Donghyuck off.

The only thing he knows is that Chenle is with Jisung at a roulette table (Donghyuck had refused to bother Renjun but Jeno had no qualms about bugging Jisung and making sure they were in the casino upon Mark’s arrival.) Luck must be on his side, because they’re easy to find. Chenle’s voice carries, loud and excited.

Jisung and Chenle are turned away from him, both absorbed in the game. But Yizhuo is also there, turned away from the table and she pins her gaze on Mark instantly, narrowing her eyes as he approaches.

She winks at him, a smile overtaking her face. 

Mark nods at her in greeting and then taps Chenle’s shoulder. Chenle turns, his mouth already forming a question before his eyes meet Mark’s. He frowns, almost comically, eyebrows furrowed. 

“What are you–”

Mark drags him lightly away, so that the others around the table can’t hear.

“Have you won anything?” He eyes the slot machines. He’s never gambled, it seems pointless—a hopeless try at luck. But he thinks he might start. 

“I was about to,” Chenle points to the roulette table. He’s playing along, allowing Mark to pretend for a moment longer.

“Do you want to play?” Mark has forgotten his wallet in the car. 

Chenle presses the button on the slot machine. “Sure.”

“I left my wallet in the car—? I can go—get it?”

Chenle blinks at him. Then blinks again. Waits.

Mark clears his throat. “I should have said I’m sure–” There’s instant recognition in Chenle’s face. It’s so different in the artificial lights of the casino than it was in the dark, and Mark wishes he had taken the leap earlier, that Chenle had reached for the lamp on the bedside table, that he could have seen Chenle when he said it the first time. So he clears his throat again, smiles softly, and takes Chenle’s face in his hands. He needs to make sure Chenle knows. No hesitation behind his words. “I’m sure. I love you.”

Chenle’s mouth opens, but Mark kisses him instead, soft and chaste. He whispers against his lips, “I know.”

“But–”

“Tell me when you’re sure.”

Chenle kisses him then, deeper, satiating whatever is inside of Mark. He feels a sudden lightness in his chest, as Chenle whispers, “I will.”

Mark lets him go then. “I should go, then.”

It can’t have been more than ten minutes since he stepped out of his car. Twelve tops.

Chenle grabs his hand. “Stay.”

“I have all your snowboard stuff.” And Jeno and Donghyuck are in the car.

“You can put it in my room. Jisung won’t mind.”

“Jeno and Donghyuck—”

Chenle’s eyes grow wide with understanding before his face breaks into a smile. He copies Mark then, grabbing his face and squeezing before kissing him. It’s different this time, with enough intent behind it that Mark starts to calculate how he can take more time off from work to stay with Chenle. 

He wonders if Donghyuck would actually kill him if he takes Chenle upstairs. He wants an hour or two more with Chenle, wants to show him everything he hasn’t been able to show him before.  

He pulls away, Chenle chasing his lips. “I love you,” Mark says again, and again. He wants to say it a thousand times over, wants to walk around the casino and tell every single person that he loves Chenle. “I love you.” 

Chenle kisses him.