Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The ocean stretched endlessly, a liquid mirror reflecting the soft, golden hues of the sun dipping lower into the horizon. Donghyuck stood at the yacht's stern, his hands gripping the railing loosely. The voices of his family arguing over the latest business deal had faded to a dull hum, and he let out a deep sigh.

Vacations were supposed to be relaxing. The vast expanse of the sea should’ve brought him peace, but he couldn’t shake the tension that followed him everywhere when his family was involved. They never stopped working—not even here, on this luxurious yacht where most people would give anything to simply bask in the serenity of the waves.

The water churned below him, the sound both hypnotic and slightly unnerving. He wasn’t particularly fond of the sea—well, of swimming in it, anyway. His childhood was filled with lessons in academics, etiquette, and how to manage a sprawling empire, leaving little room for hobbies like swimming.

The waves were becoming more unpredictable now, each one smacking against the hull of the yacht with increasing force. The sudden lurch of the boat caught Donghyuck off guard. His grip faltered. The railing felt slick under his palm.

Before he could regain his balance, another wave struck.

His gasp was swallowed by the roar of the ocean as his feet left the deck. The world blurred—a sharp rush of air, a splash, and then cold, suffocating water engulfed him.

Panic seized him instantly. He flailed, arms slicing through water that felt like it was pulling him deeper instead of helping him rise. His head broke the surface briefly, but the taste of salt water filled his mouth as he sputtered for air, only to sink again.

This is it, he thought, terror clawing at his chest.

“Stay still!”

The voice was sharp, commanding, and oddly reassuring. Through his panic, Donghyuck caught a glimpse of someone standing at the edge of the deck.

Mark Lee.

The co-captain had been something of a silent presence since the start of their trip. He wasn’t much older than Donghyuck and had an air of calm competence about him. Donghyuck hadn’t interacted with him much, but right now, that calm felt like a lifeline.

“I’m throwing the buoy!” Mark shouted, already tossing the bright orange ring toward him.

Donghyuck tried to grab it, but his flailing arms did little to help him stay above the water. The effort was wasted. He was sinking again, his lungs burning as he fought to surface.

“Hold on!”

Donghyuck barely registered the sound of a splash before he felt strong arms wrapping around him. The pressure was firm but careful, and despite his terror, he instinctively clung to the body that had come to his rescue.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Mark said, his voice close to Donghyuck’s ear. “Stop fighting me. I’ll keep you up.”

For a moment, Donghyuck’s flailing lessened as he latched onto Mark, trembling. Mark’s voice was steady, an anchor in the chaos, and Donghyuck could do nothing but trust him.

But as Mark scanned the water, his stomach sank. The yacht was already a distant silhouette on the horizon, growing smaller with each passing second.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Donghyuck didn’t miss the tension in Mark’s voice. His head shot up, eyes wide with fear. “What?”

Mark hesitated. “The boat’s… far,” he admitted, keeping his voice as calm as he could.

“How far?”

Mark pressed his lips into a thin line. “Far enough that they haven’t noticed us yet.”

Donghyuck froze, his grip tightening around Mark. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Mark replied grimly. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. We just need to stay calm.”

The water around them was vast and unnervingly still now that the yacht’s wake was gone. Donghyuck swallowed hard, his fear of the water crashing down on him all over again. “I can’t swim,” he said shakily, as though Mark hadn’t already figured that out.

“I noticed,” Mark said dryly, though there was a hint of humor in his tone. “Good thing you’ve got me, huh?”

Donghyuck blinked at him, stunned. Of all the things to say in this situation, Mark had somehow chosen to joke.

“Not funny,” he muttered, though his trembling lips betrayed him.

Mark’s expression softened. “We’ll get through this, okay? Just stick with me.”

As the horizon swallowed the yacht completely, Donghyuck had no choice but to nod.

---

The ocean seemed vast and endless, stretching in every direction, with no sight of the yacht or land. Donghyuck clung to Mark like his life depended on it—because, quite literally, it did. His heart was racing, his breath coming in shallow gasps that did little to calm him.

“I hate the water,” Donghyuck muttered through chattering teeth. “I really, really hate the water.”

“I can tell,” Mark said, his voice steady but tinged with exertion as he treaded water to keep them both afloat. “Good news is, I’m here. Bad news is, we’re gonna be here for a while unless we come up with a plan.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened in panic. “What do you mean a while? They’ll come back for us, right? They’ll notice we’re gone.”

Mark hesitated. The truth was, on a yacht that size, people often assumed others were off exploring some corner of the ship. It could be hours before anyone realized Donghyuck was missing—and even longer before they noticed he wasn’t just hiding.

“They’ll notice eventually,” Mark said, though he didn’t add eventually might not be soon enough.

“Eventually?” Donghyuck repeated, his voice rising. “Mark, are you serious right now?”

“Hey.” Mark’s tone turned firmer, grounding. “Freaking out won’t help. We’re fine right now. Let’s focus on staying that way.”

Donghyuck swallowed hard, biting back another wave of panic. “You’re way too calm for someone who just got stranded in the middle of the ocean.”

Mark’s lips quirked up in a faint smile. “One of us has to be, don’t you think?”

Donghyuck stared at him for a moment, incredulous, before a soft, nervous laugh escaped him. It felt absurd to laugh when they were quite literally stranded at sea, but something about Mark’s calmness was infectious.

“Okay,” Donghyuck said shakily. “Okay. What do we do?”

Mark adjusted his grip, making sure Donghyuck was secure. “First, we stay afloat. Second, we hope the yacht realizes we’re missing. Third, if they don’t, we figure out a way to get to shore.”

Donghyuck’s laugh this time was sharp and humorless. “And how exactly are we supposed to find the shore, Mark? Do you have a map hidden somewhere in your swim trunks?”

Mark chuckled softly. “No, but I’ve got a good sense of direction. Worst-case scenario, we follow the currents and hope for the best.”

“That’s your plan? Hope for the best?”

“Would you rather I lie to you?”

Donghyuck opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Fair point,” he muttered.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as the two floated in silence. Donghyuck clung to Mark’s neck, trying not to think about the endless depths beneath them or the sharp chill of the water seeping into his bones.

“You okay?” Mark asked after a while, his voice softer now.

“Not really,” Donghyuck admitted. “I’m cold. I’m tired. And I’m terrified something’s going to eat us.”

Mark tightened his hold slightly, the gesture protective. “Nothing’s going to eat us. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that,” Donghyuck said, his voice trembling.

“You’re right, I can’t,” Mark said lightly, “but I’m saying it anyway. Makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

Donghyuck stared at him, his lips twitching despite himself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Mark said, grinning now. “But at least I’m keeping your mind off things.”

Donghyuck let out a long sigh, resting his head against Mark’s shoulder. “You’re exhausting.”

Mark laughed softly. “I get that a lot.”

The sky above them began to shift, the vibrant hues of the sunset deepening into shades of purple and navy. The first stars began to peek through the fading light, their faint glow reflecting off the rippling water.

Donghyuck shivered, his body trembling against Mark’s. “I don’t think I can do this for much longer.”

Mark’s expression turned serious. “You’re doing fine, Donghyuck. I’ve got you.”

The use of his name caught Donghyuck off guard. There was something comforting about hearing it, even in the middle of this nightmare.

“You know, for a co-captain, you’re pretty good at babysitting,” Donghyuck muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.

Mark chuckled. “And for a rich kid, you’re pretty good at surviving.”

Donghyuck looked up at him, his brow furrowed. “This isn’t exactly surviving, Mark. I’m just… not drowning.”

“Same thing,” Mark said with a shrug.

Donghyuck huffed out a weak laugh, but it quickly faded as another thought struck him. “What if the yacht doesn’t come back? What if—”

“They will,” Mark interrupted firmly. “And if they don’t, we’ll figure it out. I’m not letting anything happen to you, okay?”

Donghyuck looked at him, his chest tightening. There was something in Mark’s voice—something unwavering and sure—that made him believe him, even if only for a moment.

“Okay,” Donghyuck said softly.

The ocean stretched around them, vast and unrelenting, but for now, Donghyuck let himself trust the man holding him.

Chapter Text

The silence between them settled like a fragile truce. The water lapped gently against their bodies, no longer hostile but still intimidating in its endlessness. Donghyuck’s shivering had grown more frequent, his body trembling with a mixture of cold and exhaustion.

“Hey,” Mark said softly, his tone cutting through the quiet. “Try to keep talking to me. It’ll help keep your mind off the cold.”

Donghyuck let out a tired laugh. “What do you want me to say? I don’t exactly have a list of ocean facts ready.”

“Tell me about yourself,” Mark suggested.

“Seriously?” Donghyuck asked, raising a skeptical brow.

“Yeah. We’ve got time.” Mark’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Unless you’d rather sit here and think about how cold you are.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes but took the bait. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” Mark said. “Where are you from? What do you do when you’re not stuck in the middle of the ocean?”

Donghyuck sighed, his head resting against Mark’s shoulder again. “I’m from Seoul. My family’s… well, I guess you know who they are. Big business, endless meetings, arguments over profits. That kind of thing.”

Mark nodded, though Donghyuck couldn’t see it. “I figured as much. You looked pretty done with their conversation earlier.”

“I was done,” Donghyuck muttered. “I hate it. All of it. The constant pressure, the expectations… It’s suffocating.”

Mark’s grip on him shifted slightly, his hold still firm but gentle. “And you? What do you want to do?”

The question caught Donghyuck off guard. “I… don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. “No one’s ever really asked me that before.”

Mark’s brow furrowed. “No one?”

Donghyuck shook his head. “Not seriously. It’s always been about what’s expected of me, not what I want.”

“Well,” Mark said, his voice light but earnest, “you’ve got time to figure it out. I mean, you survived falling off a yacht. That’s gotta count for something.”

Donghyuck snorted, the sound unrefined but genuine. “I guess so.”

“What about hobbies?” Mark pressed. “Anything you do for fun?”

“Does avoiding my family count?” Donghyuck asked, smirking faintly.

Mark laughed, the sound warm and reassuring. “Not exactly.”

“Well,” Donghyuck said, his tone softening, “I like music. Singing, mostly. But it’s not something I’ve ever had time to take seriously.”

Mark tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Singing, huh? You any good?”

“I’m amazing,” Donghyuck said with mock confidence, a smile tugging at his lips.

Mark grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, each word a distraction from the cold and the growing fatigue. Donghyuck found himself oddly at ease, despite their dire situation.

But as the sky darkened further, the reality of their predicament crept back in. The yacht was nowhere to be seen, and the chill of the water was becoming harder to ignore.

“How long do you think we can stay like this?” Donghyuck asked quietly, his voice trembling.

Mark’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to lie, but the truth wasn’t exactly comforting. “A while, if we have to. But I’m hoping we won’t need to.”

Donghyuck nodded, his grip on Mark tightening slightly. “You know, for a stranger, you’re weirdly reassuring.”

Mark chuckled. “And for someone who hates the water, you’re handling this better than I expected.”

“Barely,” Donghyuck muttered.

The current shifted slightly, carrying them in a new direction. Mark adjusted his hold on Donghyuck, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the yacht.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Donghyuck asked again, his voice quieter this time.

“I do,” Mark said firmly. “Your family might argue a lot, but I don’t think they’d leave you behind.”

Donghyuck didn’t respond right away. The idea of his family noticing his absence felt both comforting and distant.

“They’re probably too busy fighting to even realize I’m gone,” he said bitterly.

Mark’s expression softened. “They’ll notice,” he said. “And when they do, they’ll turn around. You’ll see.”

Donghyuck wanted to believe him, but the exhaustion creeping into his limbs made it hard to hold onto hope.

“Mark,” he said after a long pause, his voice barely audible.

“Yeah?”

“If… if we don’t make it out of this—”

“We will,” Mark interrupted firmly.

“But if we don’t,” Donghyuck pressed, his eyes meeting Mark’s, “thank you. For saving me.”

Mark stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled, small but genuine.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Just stay with me, Donghyuck. That’s all I need you to do.”

The sincerity in Mark’s voice was enough to quiet Donghyuck’s fears, if only for a little while.

As the night deepened, the stars above them shining brighter than ever, Donghyuck let himself trust the man who had jumped into the ocean without hesitation.

---

The night was darker now, with the moon casting faint silver light across the rippling water. The stars above felt infinite, stark against the pitch-black sky. It would’ve been breathtaking if Donghyuck weren’t preoccupied with staying alive.

Mark’s arms remained strong and steady around him, even though Donghyuck could tell he must be growing tired. The man’s endurance was impressive, and Donghyuck hated that he felt so helpless, clinging to him like dead weight.

“You should let me go,” Donghyuck whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle splashing of the waves.

Mark’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

“You’re going to get tired,” Donghyuck said, avoiding his gaze. “You can’t keep holding onto me like this. It’s not fair.”

Mark let out a sharp breath, his grip tightening just slightly. “Let me get this straight,” he said, his tone edged with frustration. “You want me to just... let you drown? That’s your solution?”

Donghyuck’s throat tightened. “I’m just saying—”

“Don’t,” Mark interrupted firmly, his voice low but resolute. “Don’t say it. I didn’t jump into the ocean to save you just to give up now. So stop talking like that.”

The finality in his tone left no room for argument. Donghyuck blinked, surprised by the sudden fierceness.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “But you’re being stubborn.”

“Better stubborn than dead,” Mark replied, his words softening at the end.

Silence fell between them again, broken only by the sound of the waves and Donghyuck’s occasional shivering. Despite the chill, Mark seemed unshakable, his steady breaths and firm hold a lifeline in the vast, empty sea.

“You know,” Donghyuck said after a while, his voice trembling less now, “you don’t really seem like a co-captain.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re too calm,” Donghyuck explained. “Like... ridiculously calm. Who jumps into the ocean without hesitation and then acts like it’s no big deal?”

Mark chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “Occupational hazard, I guess. You get used to staying level-headed when things go wrong.”

Donghyuck tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his tired eyes. “So, what’s your deal? Why’d you become a co-captain?”

Mark hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to answer. “I like the sea,” he said simply. “Always have. There’s something about being out here—away from everything—that feels... freeing.”

Donghyuck snorted. “Freezing, more like.”

Mark laughed, the sound cutting through the tension. “That too, sometimes.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt less heavy. Donghyuck found himself watching Mark’s face, illuminated faintly by the moonlight. There was a steadiness to him that Donghyuck couldn’t help but admire, a quiet strength that made him feel a little less afraid.

“You’re a strange guy,” Donghyuck said eventually, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Mark glanced down at him, his own smile soft but teasing. “Coming from the guy who fell off a yacht, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes, but the humor eased some of the tension in his chest.

As the hours stretched on, the cold seeped deeper into their bones. Mark adjusted his hold on Donghyuck, shifting to keep them both afloat as the waves grew slightly rougher.

“Hey,” Donghyuck said suddenly, his voice quieter now. “Do you think anyone’s looking for us yet?”

Mark hesitated, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “They’ll notice eventually,” he said, his voice steady. “people don’t just go missing without someone raising an alarm.”

Donghyuck nodded, though doubt still gnawed at him. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on Mark’s warmth instead of the endless expanse of water around them.

“Mark?” he said after a long pause.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck murmured.

“For what?”

“For not letting go.”

Mark’s arms tightened around him slightly, his voice soft but firm. “I won’t. Not ever.”

The words settled something deep within Donghyuck, a flicker of warmth in the cold, dark night.

As they drifted under the endless sky, Donghyuck let himself believe—if only for a moment—that they might just make it through this together.

Chapter Text

The ocean’s stillness was deceptive, a vast, quiet expanse that belied the struggle for survival it demanded of the two stranded souls. The moon hung heavy in the sky now, casting a pale glow over the water. The chill of the night bit sharply at Donghyuck’s skin, his trembling worsening as the hours dragged on.

“Donghyuck,” Mark said softly, his voice tinged with concern. “You’re shaking too much.”

“I’m f-fine,” Donghyuck stammered, though his teeth chattered violently, betraying his words. His head was still resting on Mark’s shoulder, his entire body practically molded to Mark’s side. Yet even their proximity wasn’t enough to stave off the biting cold.

“You’re not fine,” Mark countered, his tone firmer now. He shifted his grip on Donghyuck, his movements careful but deliberate. “We need to do something about this. You’re going to go hypothermic.”

“What… what are we supposed to do?” Donghyuck asked weakly, his voice almost a whisper.

Mark looked around, his gaze darting over the endless water. There was no land in sight, no debris to cling to, nothing but the dark expanse stretching in every direction. He exhaled through his nose, frustration simmering just beneath his calm exterior.

“We need to share more body heat,” Mark said eventually, his voice quieter now.

Donghyuck’s head lifted slightly, his eyes wide despite his exhaustion. “What?”

Mark’s gaze met his, steady and sincere. “It’s the only way. You’re freezing, and I can’t keep you warm like this. We need to be closer.”

Donghyuck’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. He knew Mark was right—he could feel the cold seeping deeper into his bones, threatening to pull him under in a way even the ocean hadn’t.

“O-okay,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.

Mark didn’t hesitate. His arms tightened around Donghyuck, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed flush against each other. The cold water between them made the contact almost unbearable at first, but gradually, Donghyuck felt a faint warmth radiating from Mark’s skin.

“Relax,” Mark murmured, his breath brushing against Donghyuck’s ear. “You’re too tense. Let me hold you.”

Donghyuck’s heart was racing now, though not entirely from the cold. There was something disarming about the way Mark spoke, the way his hands rested firmly on Donghyuck’s back as if to shield him from the world.

“This is ridiculous,” Donghyuck muttered, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Mark chuckled softly. “Probably, but it’s working.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable, filled with the sound of their breathing and the gentle lapping of the waves. Donghyuck closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth slowly spreading through his body.

But then Mark shifted slightly, his hand brushing against Donghyuck’s cheek. The touch was unintentional at first, but it lingered, the rough pads of Mark’s fingers a stark contrast to Donghyuck’s chilled skin.

“Your face is freezing,” Mark murmured, his tone softer now.

Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Mark’s gaze. There was an intensity there, something unreadable but magnetic.

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck whispered, though his voice wavered.

Mark’s thumb grazed his cheek, a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down Donghyuck’s spine for an entirely different reason. “You don’t look fine,” Mark said quietly.

The space between them felt impossibly small now, their faces inches apart. Donghyuck’s breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears. He didn’t know if it was the cold or the sheer exhaustion that made him lean in slightly, but the next thing he knew, Mark’s forehead was resting against his.

“Donghyuck,” Mark said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Donghyuck swallowed hard, his eyes searching Mark’s. “What?”

“Just… stay still,” Mark said, his breath ghosting over Donghyuck’s lips.

And then it happened. Slowly, cautiously, Mark closed the gap between them, his lips brushing against Donghyuck’s in a tentative kiss. It wasn’t forceful or hurried—just a soft, lingering touch that spoke of both hesitation and need.

Donghyuck froze at first, his mind reeling. But then, almost instinctively, he tilted his head slightly, pressing into the kiss with a quiet desperation he didn’t fully understand.

The kiss deepened just a fraction, Mark’s hand sliding up to cradle the back of Donghyuck’s head. The warmth between them was undeniable now, cutting through the cold in a way that felt almost surreal.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads still resting together.

“Was that… necessary for survival?” Donghyuck asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Mark chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against Donghyuck’s temple. “Maybe not. But it didn’t hurt, did it?”

Donghyuck huffed out a shaky laugh, his cheeks flushing despite the cold. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still freezing,” Mark replied, his tone light but affectionate.

Donghyuck didn’t argue this time. Instead, he let himself relax against Mark, the warmth of the kiss lingering between them as they floated together in the vast, unrelenting sea.

---

The cold was relentless, wrapping around them like an unyielding grip even as they clung to each other for warmth. Donghyuck's head rested against Mark’s shoulder, his breaths shallow but steady. The kiss lingered in the back of his mind, a fleeting warmth amid the icy void that threatened to consume them both.

"How long do you think we've been out here?" Donghyuck asked softly, his voice hoarse.

Mark tightened his hold on him, his fingers grazing over Donghyuck’s back in a subtle, soothing motion. "Too long," he replied, his voice steady but laced with exhaustion. "But someone will find us. We just have to hang on."

The certainty in Mark's tone was a fragile thread of hope, but Donghyuck clung to it anyway. The ocean stretched endlessly around them, a vast, indifferent expanse that swallowed sound and time alike. Every now and then, the faint roar of the waves in the distance made his heart race, but it was always just the water—nothing else.

Donghyuck shivered violently, his body jerking slightly against Mark's. "I... I can't feel my fingers anymore," he murmured, his voice trembling.

Mark shifted slightly, adjusting their positions to hold Donghyuck even closer. He reached for one of Donghyuck’s hands and rubbed it gently between his palms, the friction sending faint tingles of sensation through Donghyuck’s numbed skin. "You're not giving up on me," Mark said firmly, his gaze locking onto Donghyuck's.

"I wasn't planning to," Donghyuck replied weakly, though the corners of his lips lifted faintly.

The distant sound of a low hum interrupted their exchange. At first, it was faint, blending into the background noise of the waves. But then it grew louder, more distinct—a rhythmic chopping sound that sent a jolt through Mark's chest.

"Wait," Mark whispered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon.

Donghyuck stirred, his head lifting slightly. "What is it?"

"Helicopter," Mark said, his voice tight with restrained urgency.

Donghyuck's heart leapt in his chest. He turned his head toward the sound, squinting against the faint light beginning to break over the horizon. The rhythmic hum grew louder, and soon, the faint silhouette of a search-and-rescue helicopter came into view, its spotlight sweeping over the dark waters.

Mark’s heart pounded, but his hold on Donghyuck remained steady. "They're looking for us. We need to get their attention."

"How?" Donghyuck asked, his voice trembling with both cold and fear.

Mark clenched his jaw. Letting go of Donghyuck wasn’t an option—his grip was the only thing keeping Donghyuck afloat. He scanned their immediate surroundings, the saltwater stinging his eyes, and his breath hitched when the helicopter’s spotlight swept perilously close to them but didn’t stop.

"Hold onto me tighter," Mark said.

Donghyuck’s arms clung around Mark’s neck, his strength fading but his determination still intact. Mark shifted slightly, one arm keeping Donghyuck secure while he used his free hand to splash the water around them. It was a desperate move, but the splashes disrupted the otherwise still water, creating ripples that caught faint glimmers of the searchlight.

"Over here!" Mark shouted, his voice hoarse but filled with urgency. He repeated the action, splashing harder, his voice cutting through the cold air. "We're here! Look this way!"

The spotlight paused, then swung back toward them. Relief surged through Mark as the beam of light fixed on their position. The rhythmic hum of the helicopter grew louder as it descended, the sound of its rotors slicing through the frigid air.

"They see us," Mark murmured, his voice cracking slightly with emotion.

Donghyuck’s head drooped against Mark's shoulder, his voice faint but filled with relief. "Finally..."

The rescue diver descended moments later, cutting through the waves with practiced ease. "Hold on!" the man shouted, his voice calm yet commanding.

Mark felt the diver's strong hands on his shoulder, followed by the faint click of a harness being secured around Donghyuck. "He's hypothermic," Mark said quickly, his words clipped with urgency. "Be careful with him."

"We’ve got him," the diver assured, signaling to the helicopter above.

As Donghyuck was hoisted up, his fingers clung weakly to Mark’s arm, his gaze heavy with exhaustion but still searching for Mark’s. Mark reached up, his hand brushing against Donghyuck’s before the rescue diver urged him to release.

When it was Mark’s turn to be lifted, the cold seemed to seep deeper into his bones, but his eyes never left Donghyuck. The moment he was pulled into the cabin, he crawled toward him, his hands trembling as they found Donghyuck’s.

"You did it," Donghyuck murmured, his lips pale but curved into the faintest of smiles.

Mark shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. "No. We did it."

Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered closed, his body finally surrendering to the exhaustion. Mark’s hand tightened around his, his thumb brushing faintly over Donghyuck’s icy skin.

The helicopter roared through the sky, carrying them toward safety. But even as warmth and light surrounded them, Mark’s focus remained on the man beside him—on the quiet strength that had kept them both afloat and the fragile connection that had emerged amidst the chaos.

For now, they were alive. And that was enough.

Chapter Text

The days following the rescue blurred together like fragments of a dream. Mark remembered the rush of the hospital—doctors hovering, questions piling up, and Donghyuck being wheeled away before Mark could even register what was happening.

They had saved his life. That was the mantra Mark kept repeating to himself as he lay in the sterile hospital room, staring at the ceiling. But the empty chair beside his bed gnawed at him. He hadn’t seen Donghyuck since they were pulled from the freezing ocean.

Mark had asked about him, pleaded with the nurses for updates, but confidentiality and the chaos of their recovery kept him in the dark. He wasn’t even sure where Donghyuck was now. The thought of not seeing him again—or worse, that he might still be suffering—haunted Mark.

Four days passed. Four long, agonizing days where Mark replayed the kiss, the touch of Donghyuck’s trembling hands on his skin, and the weight of his head on Mark’s shoulder in the icy water. He had never felt something so raw, so real.

And then, on the fifth day, Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He called in a favor from one of the hospital staff, practically begging for a way to find Donghyuck.

---

Mark stood outside the modest apartment he had been directed to, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. It was stupid to feel this nervous—he had faced life-or-death situations more times than he could count—but the thought of seeing Donghyuck again, of confronting everything they had been through, sent a rush of adrenaline through him.

He knocked. Once. Twice.

The door opened.

There he was. Donghyuck.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Donghyuck looked thinner, his face pale and framed by soft, unruly hair that made him look even more vulnerable. His eyes widened, brimming with an emotion Mark couldn’t quite place.

“Mark...” Donghyuck’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, but it carried the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

Mark didn’t respond—not with words. He couldn’t. Instead, he surged forward, his hands finding Donghyuck’s face as their lips crashed together in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Donghyuck gasped, stumbling slightly as Mark pressed him against the doorframe. Their mouths moved hungrily, desperately, as if making up for the days they had been apart. Mark’s fingers tangled in Donghyuck’s hair, his grip firm yet careful, while Donghyuck clutched at Mark’s jacket, pulling him impossibly closer.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a release, a confession, and a plea all at once.

When Mark pulled back for air, his breathing ragged, his forehead rested against Donghyuck’s. “I—I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Every second since that day, I—”

Donghyuck silenced him with another kiss, this one slower but no less intense. His hands slid up Mark’s chest, his touch softening as the heat between them melted into something more tender.

“I thought about you too,” Donghyuck murmured between kisses, his voice trembling with emotion. “You wouldn’t leave my mind. I didn’t want you to.”

Mark’s thumb brushed over Donghyuck’s cheek as their lips parted, his gaze searching Donghyuck’s face. “You scared the hell out of me out there,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You didn’t,” Donghyuck replied softly, his fingers tightening on Mark’s jacket. “You saved me. You kept me alive.”

Mark shook his head, his lips ghosting over Donghyuck’s once more. “We saved each other.”

Donghyuck smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made Mark’s chest ache. “Maybe we did.”

Mark guided them inside, closing the door behind him as they moved further into the apartment. The frantic urgency that had driven their first kiss faded into something more intimate. Mark’s hands roamed Donghyuck’s waist, his touch firm yet reverent, while Donghyuck’s arms looped around Mark’s neck, pulling him down into another kiss that deepened with every passing second.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads pressed together once more, Donghyuck broke the silence with a soft laugh. “This is insane, isn’t it?”

Mark chuckled, his breath warm against Donghyuck’s skin. “Completely.”

Donghyuck’s smile softened, his gaze holding Mark’s with a quiet intensity. “But it doesn’t feel wrong. Not even a little.”

Mark’s fingers brushed over Donghyuck’s jaw, his expression earnest. “It doesn’t. And it won’t.”

They sank onto the couch, their hands still tangled together as the conversation shifted to quieter tones. They talked about the rescue, about the days they had spent apart, and the unspoken feelings that had simmered between them since the moment they were stranded together.

Mark’s voice softened as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against Donghyuck’s temple. “I don’t know what this is between us, but I know I don’t want to lose it. Or you.”

Donghyuck’s fingers tightened around Mark’s, his smile warm despite the tears that glimmered in his eyes. “Me neither. I want to see where this goes, Mark. With you.”

Mark pulled Donghyuck closer, his arms wrapping around him in a protective embrace. For the first time in days, the tension in his chest eased, replaced by a quiet certainty.

As the evening stretched on, they stayed like that—wrapped in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling as the world outside faded into the background.