Chapter Text
"I'm not sure about this," Seungcheol says for the umpteenth time.
“Shut up,” Joshua replies with a teasing tone. “You already agreed, no take-backs.”
“Remind me why I’m doing this again…” He stares out the window of his office, trying to come up with a plan to get out of this. He can't, however, find an answer in the orange hue that bleeds into a beautiful pinkish tone in the sky outside. Someone more poetically inclined may be able to come up with accurate names or describe his view better. Seungcheol can’t; he’s terrible with colors, but even he knows that artful display means the sun is coming up.
Fuck.
“Because you need an assistant or you’ll continue to have absolutely no work-life balance and your kids will end up with huge daddy-issues,” Joshua jokes.
Seungcheol doesn’t find it funny. He removes his phone from his ear and glares at it, as if his friend could actually see his face all the way from L.A. “I know I need an assistant.” He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t necessarily need to be–”
“Cheol,” Joshua says with a sigh. “Please, okay? You’re doing this for me.”
The older man frowns. “Why does it feel like, ever since we met, I’m always doing things for you?” He’d known Joshua ever since his last year of high school. He’d been sent to a boarding school in the States for his ‘mistakes’—because kicking him out of the country was obviously the solution. Joshua had been there for a while, and as soon as he saw the other alpha, he forced him to be his friend. Needless to say, Cheol feels like he’s spent his entire life trying to keep his best friend out of trouble and being only moderately successful.
Even though Joshua always travels back and forth between America and Korea, they’ve remained close over the years. When his older sister died 7 years ago, Joshua dropped everything to take care of him, and he would always be beyond grateful for his actions. Perhaps that is why he’s doing him this favor.
“I don’t know, that seems like a ‘you' problem,” Joshua teases, but after a quiet moment, he says, “I–you’re a dad, and an older brother as well, you know how it feels when—” he sighs. “I’m just worried about him.”
“But you’re not his older brother, much less his dad.” He is trying really hard not to convey how much he dislikes this idea.
When Joshua contacted him last week with a favor, he never expected it to be related to his family. His friend barely talks about his parents, but he knows he has a complicated relationship with them. His siblings, however? He talks about them every day, about how much he misses them, how he's worried about them, about what he knows they're up to.
Cheol knew he had two brothers. The youngest, Seonghwa, was an angel. He was quiet, calm, and very hardworking; he was always there for everyone else. He wasn’t problematic. The worst incident he’d heard of was when he presented as an omega and was apparently getting harassed by a few dense classmates.
Seungcheol heard about Seonghwa all the time, and finally met him when the alpha graduated and returned to Korea to study.
He knew Hwa; he liked Hwa.
But even though he’d much prefer to, he wasn’t hiring Hwa.
“You don’t get it.” Joshua’s frustrated tone catches him off guard. “You have siblings, but Hannie is so much more. Having a twin is different; he’s like a part of my soul. And I’m really worried about him.”
Seungcheol resisted the need to remind him that he’d always been worried about him, and with good reason. Jeonghan was, to put it simply, a menace. Joshua wasn’t very different, to be fair, but Jeonghan was worse.
The twins spoke every day, even though Jeonghan and Seonghwa stayed back with their mother in Korea. And every week, there was something new to worry about. Jeonghan had presented as an omega as well, which was surprising to Cheol, seeing as he got into more fights in a week than some of his alpha friends had in a lifetime. Namely, as a college student, he got into a fight with several of Seonghwa’s high school classmates for disrespecting him.
Seungcheol’s issue with Jeonghan had never been the mistakes he’d made; God knows he wasn’t one to judge. It was the fact that he never got what was coming to him. Every time he got into trouble, he managed to get out unscathed. He always got into fights, but he’d manipulate everyone around him, and everyone believed it wasn’t his fault. He barely studied in high school, always skipped class, and yet he got into SNU with ridiculous ease.
And even when he made questionable decisions, things always magically worked out. Like the time he fell in love with some random alpha and decided to drop out of college to follow him back to his home country, promptly got tired of the poor bastard, and somehow ended up enrolled in Japan’s most prestigious university, and graduating in record time, top of his class.
Which, by the way, “Is he having trouble finding a job?” His tone is evidently incredulous. Because, yes, he didn’t like Jeonghan, but the man was obviously brilliant, and ridiculously charming–without mentioning the obvious fact that, like both of his brothers, he was devastatingly beautiful. From what he’d heard, that man always got what he wanted.
“That’s the thing…” Joshua laughs awkwardly. “He hasn’t really been looking for work.”
Seungcheol almost snorts. “Then where is he getting his money? From you?”
“I don’t know, and that’s what worries me, because Hwa doesn’t know either.” His friend stays quiet for a bit. “I’ve never judged Hannie on any of his life choices, but…there was a period of time where he…” Joshua cuts himself off. “I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes again. I want him to finally find his purpose in life and be happy.”
The older man sighs. “Fine, I’ll give him a chance, but I doubt he’ll show up to the interview tomorrow.”
“Thank you so much, Cheol,” he says, voice filled with gratitude. “And don’t worry about it. He’ll fucking show up, alright.”
After they hang up, he picks up his phone to see he’s got a few texts from the nanny, asking him if he’ll come home. Not when, if. As the sun finally rises, he doesn’t feel the need to answer anymore, and guilt floods him. He can’t keep doing this; his kids deserve better; they deserve a more present father.
He really needs an assistant, and even though he doubts Jeonghan will last the week, he’s willing to give him a shot. He’d only seen Jeonghan in person once—even if he’d heard about him all the time—and he didn’t like him.
Joshua never spoke unkindly about him. He always shared what Jeonghan was doing that week with a light yet exasperated tone, because not even his twin was spared from that man’s web of lies.