Chapter Text
Joshua hasn’t been home in three days. He confessed his love for Seungcheol and then ran, and Seungcheol would worry if he wasn’t so occupied with Yoonah’s first tooth and her subsequent crying at all hours of the day. He can’t help but be a little pissed off. He’s been a completely single parent for the past 72 hours, and hasn’t received so much as a text from Joshua telling him that he’s safe, that he’s okay, that he’s somewhere that isn’t lying dead in an alleyway. He didn’t even have the opportunity to tell Joshua that he loves him back. Joshua got the words out and then bolted like the hounds of hell were nipping at his ankles. Seungcheol has barely slept in three days, and there’s a petty little voice in the back of his head hoping that Joshua is just as miserable.
From: Mingyu
11:43am
- He’s with me and Minghao
- He’s miserable, but he’s safe. Don’t worry.
It makes Seungcheol feel a little bit better, but he’s still pissed that it took three days to hear anything from Joshua, and he’s not even hearing it from Joshua himself.
To: Mingyu
11:45am
- okay
He can’t even bring himself to demand that Joshua come back home right this instant. He knows in his heart that if Joshua wanted to be here, he’d be here.
From: Lit(erature) Boys
11:50am
Jeonghan
- Mingyu texted me. I’m coming over
Wonwoo
- ditto. you need sleep cheol
- i have baby teething rings and jen’s french toast
To: Lit(erature) Boys
11:54am
- the door’s unlocked.
Yoonah’s been crying on his chest for the past hour, and Seungcheol wants to join her. When she finally cries herself to sleep, he can feel his eyes closing against his will, the silence coaxing him into a nap with the only good thing in his life splayed out on his chest.
-----
“I’ll put Yoonah in her crib, you start the dishes.”
“Why do I have to start the dishes? I’m the maternal one, here.”
“Just do it, Jeonghan. Don’t wake him up.”
Seungcheol groans, raising a hand to rub his eyes that feel like they’ve been glued shut. He sits up, ignoring the protests of every muscle in his body that’s telling him to go back to sleep.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Wonwoo says. He has Yoonah tucked into the crook of his neck, and she’s sleeping more peacefully than she’s ever done in her entire life.
“Yeah,” Seungcheol grumbles out, his voice sounding like he hasn’t spoken in years. “Wonwoo wins the maternal competition.”
“Morning, daddy.” Jeonghan coos from the kitchen. Wonwoo disappears into Seungcheol’s room, taking Yoonah with him.
Seungcheol groans again. “Do not.”
Jeonghan laughs. “Sorry. Forgot that’s reserved for Joshua.” He says, and Seungcheol glares.
Wonwoo reappears, without Yoonah attached to his body this time. He fluffs Seungcheol’s hair with an ice cold hand, and it makes Seungcheol miss the permanent warmth of Joshua’s body. He wonders what Joshua’s doing right now. Is he catching up on sleep? Is he calling in sick from work? Are Mingyu and Minghao taking care of him?
“Hannie, I’m taking this one out for a smoke. Keep an ear out for Yoonah and maybe try to clean the living room?” Wonwoo instructs. He drags Seungcheol off of the couch, throwing a jacket at him and shrugging on his own.
“God, why me?” Jeonghan cries, and Seungcheol has to laugh at that. It’s maybe the closest he’s felt to normal since Joshua left, and he’s grateful for it.
There’s a shared, comfortable silence between Seungcheol and Wonwoo as they step out into cold night. Seungcheol can tell that Wonwoo’s waiting for him to speak first, it’s how he’s always been, but it’s what Seungcheol appreciates about him the most. Silences are never awkward with Wonwoo, even if they do last for extended periods of time. It’s almost like talking isn’t necessary, but the thought of Wonwoo knowing exactly what’s going on in Seungcheol’s head without having to hear it scares him, so he leaves the thought where it is. The privilege of knowing Seungcheol’s every thought and intention belongs to Joshua alone.
“I miss him,” He says as Wonwoo passes him a cigarette. He’s already run through the pack that Joshua gave him, even though it’s only been a week and he promised that he wouldn’t get addicted again.
Wonwoo lights Seungcheol’s smoke, then his own, and then takes a drag before he even looks like he’s considering answering.
“I love him,” Seungcheol says before Wonwoo can get there. “Is it really unhealthy for me to feel like I can’t live without him?”
Wonwoo laughs, puffs of smoke trailing from his lips with every chuckle. “You can live without Joshua, Cheol. You’re doing it right now. But it’s better when he’s here, isn’t it?” Wonwoo says, and Seungcheol hates that he just understands, hates that Wonwoo can’t even pretend to be mad at Joshua for his sake.
“What if I’m only a good dad because of him?” It’s barely a whisper, but Wonwoo still hears it.
“Seungcheol Choi, you are an amazing father,” Wonwoo snaps. Seungcheol pretends that the intensity of Wonwoo’s gaze isn’t burning a hole into the side of his head. “It was bound to happen eventually, okay? You were living in each other’s pockets for eight years before you lived together. You need to figure out who you are without Joshua before you fuck yourself up, and who you are is a good person, a good friend, and an even better father.”
Seungcheol presses his cigarette to his lips, but he doesn’t draw. He’s resisting the urge to chew on the filter like he would a straw or the end of a pencil, but he doesn’t want a mouth full of paper and tobacco.
Wonwoo speaks again, and Seungcheol can tell that he’s getting frustrated. “Look, I get it. You spread yourself too thin and your emotional support person is gone, but you’re forgetting that you have an entire support system in me, Jen, Jeonghan, and your parents. Hell, Joshua’s parents would probably drop everything and come over right now if you told them what happened. I mean, this obviously runs deeper than what happened with Shua if you think you’re a fucking failure of a dad after three days alone, but that’s besides the point. The point is: you’re not going through this alone. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll be here.”
“If you’re done with your dramatic monologue,” Seungcheol sighs, pretending that he isn’t on the verge of tears. Wonwoo chuckles again, and Seungcheol doubts that his brave face is believable. His voice sounds watery to his own ears. “You don’t have to do all of this, Wonwoo.”
“I kinda have to, since I’m the good friend here.” Wonwoo scoffs. “Shit-hole friend is inside probably napping with your baby instead of cleaning your apartment like I told him to. I am expecting an uncle of the year mug from Yoonah for Christmas, by the way.”
That earns him a laugh. “I’ll be sure to let her know,” Seungcheol says, and before Wonwoo can consider this conversation finished and snub out his cigarette so he can go back inside, Seungcheol adds a quiet, “Thank you.”
Wonwoo acknowledges him with a nod and a flick of his cigarette.
-----
Yoonah is babbling to Wonwoo on the couch. She’s bouncing in Wonwoo’s lap and tugging at his t-shirt, and all Wonwoo can do is look at her fondly and laugh. The baby advil Seungcheol gave her seems to be doing it’s job, keeping the teething pain out of her mind so she can focus on being the happy, energetic baby that she usually is while Seungcheol focuses on getting dinner ready. His mouth is watering at the thought of the beef and broccoli that he’s preparing, even if the raw meat on his cutting board is slightly unappetizing.
“Yeah, your daddy is kinda dumb. Couldn’t have said it better myself. You’re so smart, princess,” Wonwoo says, his voice three pitches higher than normal.
Seungcheol’s jaw drops. “Don’t listen to a word he says, Yoonah. Uncle Wonwoo’s just jealous ‘cause you’re so cute and I have you all to myself.”
“Well,” Jeonghan cuts in from where he’s slumped over in his chair at Seungcheol’s kitchen island. He’s been on his feet for the past few hours cleaning up after Seungcheol’s three day depression mess while Wonwoo and Seungcheol have been cooing over Yoonah. He kind of feels bad about it. Kind of.
“As much as I’d love to hang out with this precious angel all day, I have a date in approximately twenty minutes.” Jeonghan says.
Seungcheol has never been more shocked in his life. “Sorry, but who the fuck wants to date you?”
In all the years he’s known Jeonghan he’s never known anyone to be tolerant enough of his personality — other than the handful of people that they call mutual friends — to ask him out, or stay with him long enough to count as something serious.
“Rude,” Jeonghan shouts at the same time as Wonwoo says, “Jihoon.”
“No,” Seungcheol gasps. “You’re planning on tainting my Jihoonie?”
Jihoon is Seungcheol’s friend. Seungcheol’s. And he’s the last person on this whole planet that Seungcheol ever expected to be into the deceptively attractive demon currently sitting in his kitchen. Seungcheol doesn’t even know when they would’ve crossed paths. As far as he knows, Jihoon keeps very much to himself, only leaving the house to see someone that he actually knows.
“It’s only our third date, Seungcheol, relax,” Jeonghan says. Wonwoo holds Yoonah tighter to his chest, preparing for the outburst that he knows is coming. Seungcheol has always been akin to an alpha wolf or a mama bear — fatally protective.
“Third?!”
“Cheol,” Wonwoo starts. “Please don’t rip his head off. I actually appreciate his company sometimes.”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes, pretending that he doesn’t know that he’s being incredibly immature. “Oh please, I’m surprised Jihoon hasn’t ripped his head off by now, he’s a grumpy, old man. Two dates? Fucking world record,” He mutters with a shake of his head. Jeonghan just laughs.
“Language, Cheol. There’s a baby present,” Wonwoo scolds, and Seungcheol really can’t believe the hypocrisy coming out of his best friend’s mouth.
Wonwoo is undoubtedly the worst influence in his life, and he has been for the entirety of their friendship. Smoking, drinking, swearing. All of that came from Wonwoo. God, Seungcheol is lucky that he’s even still alive to parent his daughter right now. How he hasn’t keeled over from liver failure or chronic bronchitis is anyone’s guess. That goes for both of them.
“Pot calling the kettle black, much?” Seungcheol retorts as he grabs bowls from the cabinets. The food is ready, and he knows that Wonwoo isn’t going to be getting up to make himself a plate anytime soon. Might as well bring the food to him.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re both terrible,” Jeonghan bats his hand in Wonwoo’s direction. He stands up as Seungcheol takes a seat on the couch, placing two full bowls on the coffee table. Yoonah is passed out in Wonwoo’s lap, a small hand curled around one of Wonwoo’s fingers.
“God, she’s getting so big.” Seungcheol doesn’t even know if he can remember her being as small as she was when he first got her. He knows she was small, but now when he thinks of Yoonah he just thinks of how big she is now at 10 months old. She’s two months short of her first year, and the thought makes Seungcheol want to cry.
Jeonghan is toeing on his shoes and shrugging on his jacket. Wonwoo is strategically balancing a bowl on one knee, trying to eat with one hand while he holds a sleeping baby in the other. Seungcheol sinks back into the couch, marvelling at how a few hours could take him from being a despondent lump to staring fondly at two of his best friends. This would be better with Joshua.
“I’m heading out. See you tomorrow, daddy,” Jeonghan calls out over his shoulder as he swings the door open. “I’ll give Jihoon your love.”
Seungcheol grabs one of the decorative couch pillows and chucks it at his retreating figure. They’re not called throw pillows for nothing.
The thought crosses Seungcheol’s mind that maybe he can do this himself. He’s not truly alone, he’s never truly been alone with friends like his, but maybe he’s still just as good of a father by himself as he is with someone else.