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“Say, Jeonghan,” Joshua looks at him, anxiety written all over his face. Jeonghan turns fully towards him. Frown pulls at his features. He’s never seen the younger this uneasy before and he feels his stomach churn. “Do you… Do you have feelings for Cheol?”
There’s a slight hesitation, a breath taken that suggests he wants to say more but ends up closing his mouth instead.
Joshua of course doesn’t have to say the whole thing because he knows Jeonghan loves him in a way that can no longer be considered platonic. And Jeonghan knows he knows.
He’s not so sure, however, that Joshua knows about Seungcheol. And he knows Seungcheol doesn’t know about his feelings because Jeonghan knows about Joshua’s feelings. Just as well as he knows that Seungcheol has feelings for both him and Joshua, and that Joshua has feelings for both him and Seungcheol. And since the situation has become like this, he’s tried his best to keep the status quo.
The question feels like being stabbed into both heart and back. He doesn’t want to lose what they have, or at least wants to salvage as much of it as he can. Jeonghan’s not sure Seungcheol would get over him getting together with Joshua, nor is he sure Joshua would hang around them if Jeonghan started dating Seungcheol. Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he’s long since considered the possibilities because it’s inevitable that the fragile equilibrium of dancing around each other would shatter one day.
However, Joshua’s question throws him off balance.
Why ask? Jeonghan’s mind races, trying to decipher Joshua’s intentions.
One - Joshua knows about his feelings towards Seungcheol and is asking because it makes him insecure. He might be planning to ask the eldest out and this is his way of asking Jeonghan to back off.
Two - Joshua knows and is trying to do something about it, trying to make Jeonghan panic and say no so that he’d have an excuse to ask Jeonghan out. Though that might be just wishful thinking on his part.
Three - Joshua doesn’t know and is innocently asking for approval.
Maybe he’s missing something. But it’s late, his heart is trying to beat out of his chest, his ears are ringing and the world is blurry around the edges.
No matter what he’s going to say, he’s doomed.
Jeonghan feels like he’s going to be sick. His palms are sweaty. He feels like he’s going to throw up. Like he can’t breathe in enough air. But he thought about this. He knew the end of it all would come one day. He just hasn’t expected to be cornered like this or to have any say in the outcome.
“Cheol?” Jeonghan scoffs, “All the feelings I have is he still owes me ten bucks from our last bet.”
He’ll throw up. Or choke. Or something.
Saying this is the safest option, though. One that won’t hurt anyone except for him. And as long as everyone else remains safe and unharmed, he can live with that. He knows he can bottle up his feelings better than both Joshua and Seungcheol. He can remain content staying in their orbit if not by their sides. It’s for the best, or so he tells himself.
Joshua looks at him strangely. He watches him for a long time, so long that Jeonghan thinks he can see right through him. If he can, he doesn’t say anything.
Joshua shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath. Then he changes the topic to something less heavy but the tension doesn’t leave his body for the rest of the night. Jeonghan still sees it in his shoulders, feels it in the muscles of his back when they embrace while saying goodbye.
Jeonghan never figured out what it was that Joshua whispered to himself that day. The conversation still haunts him many years later, every sleepless night, every moment he lets himself be undistracted from his thoughts for too long.
He wonders if things would be different if he heard Joshua clearly that day.
❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 🎕 ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜
Jeonghan wakes up with a start. He doesn’t get a second to sit up and gather his surroundings before he’s dashing to the other side of the room to the bin in the corner through vertigo so strong he thinks he’ll pass out before he makes it.
He does, pulling the bin to his chest just in time. He starts heaving, his entire body covered in cold sweat. He feels the unnatural moistness of his throat, his mouth filling with saliva, he coughs, he sobs. The scent of flowers is getting stronger. The floral taste rises to the base of his tongue.
It’s over soon. The sight is not pretty. Trash covered by disgusting, wet flowers mixed with saliva. Blood is a new development.
He runs his hands over his face. He doesn’t know when he started crying for real, not just his body’s reaction to throwing up what could be a decent bouquet, but he wipes the tears away roughly. Then he slaps his cheeks a few times. He has to get a grip. This isn’t unexpected. This has been a long time coming. He doesn’t want to be late.
No matter how many times he rinses his mouth and even after he brushes his teeth, he can’t get the floral aftertaste tainted with iron out of his tongue. Standing in the shower, the splashes on the floor remind him of the blue petals in his bin. He needs to remember to take it out when he leaves. It should make him feel better to return to a tidy room. It won’t help him, but he should feel better.
He keeps staring at the half-empty trash bag the whole time he’s dressing up so not forgetting shouldn’t be an issue.
When it’s time to actually take the bag out, it hits him again. Blood. So the disease has spread this much already. The clock’s always been ticking but now he can hear it. He remembers the sight of the bloody mess and feels both panicked and calm.
In the end, he spaces out for long enough to be late. He takes the trash out anyway.
That cafe is busy but the staff can keep up. He can tell because of the buzz of people carrying trays, taking orders, a steady flow of customers getting their to-gos entering and leaving before too much of a line is able to form. He’s asked if he has a reservation. He almost made it in time.
Seungcheol and Joshua are already waiting at a table that he’s led too. He ignores the tightness in his chest and burning behind his eyelids to count all the glassware he can see. There’s a water pitcher on the table, three full glasses set down, one waiting for him in front of the empty seat.
“I love when a place is adequately staffed,” he sighs once it’s just the tree of them.
“I love when people are on time,” Joshua counters, a dramatic sigh falling from his lips.
He’s using the lip balm he recommended, Jeonghan notices. One that looks almost identical to the one that got discontinued years ago that Joshua adored. The light tint makes Joshua’s lips look extremely inviting. The faint scent of strawberries makes it better - or worse.
Definitely worse, considering how ticklish Jeonghan’s throat suddenly feels.
“I am on time,” Jeonghan defends himself, “They’re still serving brunch.”
“It’s seven minutes, love,” Seungcheol takes his side, his hand on top of Joshua’s, “And it’s pretty early.”
The younger hums, eventually giving in when Jeonghan offers to pay. It may be his turn anyway, but apparently an empty gesture will be enough.
“Are you okay, though?” Seungcheol turns attention towards him once more, “You look tired.”
He is tired. Just not in a way that sleep could fix. Although it’s not like he sleeps well anyway.
“Neighbour decided to start renovating his place the moment sun came up,” he shrugs, “I couldn’t fall asleep after that.”
“Again?” Joshua huffs, annoyed on his behalf.
Maybe Jeonghan is lucky that the only time his neighbour actually was kind of inconsiderate was the one time Joshua stayed over some months ago, having fought with drunk Seungcheol about something silly that his intoxicated boyfriend wouldn’t let go.
Naturally it’s almost unheard of for either of them to sleep over at his place. It is kind of improper considering their past, he supposes, though he stays over at theirs semi-regularly whenever they invite him over. He misses the sleepovers they used to have when they were younger, though, all of them tangled together and snuggling to whoever was closest.
“Doesn’t matter,” he just waves it off, “It’s really rare so I won’t make a fuss.”
“The place we told you about last week is still available if it gets worse,” Seungcheol teases.
Yeah. The place they told him about. The flat right across the hall from theirs. Jeonghan thinks if he was more of a masochist he would jump at the offer. Currently though, he still has enough wisdom to know that this move might be the final straw for his already failing system. Even though it might be too late for him anyway - should he just do it? It won’t matter much. Maybe he could at least see them more often before he goes for good.
“Did you check the menu?” Joshua asks, his eyes on the girl coming over to take their orders.
He hasn’t, which doesn’t matter because he’ll just have what the two are having. And he’ll say it’s to make it easier for the staff - which might be true - and he’ll pretend it’s not so that he feels included. Sometimes he likes to torment himself like that.
At some point life begins to feel like a neverending loop.
More precisely: whenever he’s supposed to meet Seungcheol and Joshua.
He can handle pretty fine whenever he’s not meeting them. He does wonder if he’d be doing better if they weren’t texting all day long, but they’ve always done. Breaking that habit now would make them concerned and it might do more damage than good to Jeonghan as well, so he doesn’t entertain the idea.
Even as he tries to get his breathing under control, he doesn’t think there’s anything he should do differently. It’s too late. And thinking about it as he hugs the trash bin in the corner of his bedroom again, Jeonghan doesn’t think he’d do anything differently even if he could restart his whole life.
He’d still push that kid off a swing after the boy stuck his tongue out at him. He’d still wink at the new kid on the block after beating him at the one-on-one soccer match they had because they were the only ones allowed to stay out that late.
He wouldn’t change a thing. He’d fall in love with them again.
He looks down at his trembling hands. Some petals have fallen into his lap and he picks them one by one. It’s annoying. They’re tiny, baby blue things. Purple, technically. The blood ruins them. Joshua would like them, he’d appreciate the color. All Jeonghan can somewhat find a positive association in is that the name of the flowers remains true.
They haven’t forgotten him.
His phone rings. It startles him. His knees buckle when he tries to stand so he crawls on all fours back towards his bed and pulls himself up, accepting the call without checking the caller’s id. He set this ringtone for only two people anyway.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Seungcheol teases, the static not enough to mask the smile in his voice, “Time to get up. The movie starts at ten.”
“I’ll be there! Who do you take me for?” he fires back without missing a beat.
“Wait, you were actually up already?” the voice sounds both impressed and concerned, “Did you not sleep well again?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. He feels another wave of painful nausea that’s not really nausea rising up his throat. Not helping.
“I just know how much time I need to get ready,” he shrugs even though Seungcheol can’t see, “Anyway, gotta run and shower. Bye.”
He hangs up and hopes he sounded playful enough while he throws himself to hug the bin again. It feels like he’s coughing out thorns. The metallic taste is strong enough to hide the floral notes, there’s more crimson coating the blossoms than before.
The wise thing to do would be to bail on them. The wiser thing would be going to the hospital and getting checked out. If for no other reason than to know how much time he has left.
Jeonghan does neither. Instead he gives himself enough time to feel out if the symptoms are going to let up or not. He knows it will make him late but really, taking Seungcheol’s and Joshua’s teasing and complaints is much, much, better than spilling all feelings - quite literally - in front of them.
When he feels like his insides have settled for now, he gets up and goes about his going out routine. He doesn’t forget to take the supplements that are said to help people suffering from the same condition as him. He doesn’t doubt they’re a scam, so maybe he can’t hope for the placebo effect either but today he really needs them to work.
Arriving only fifteen minutes late, Jeonghan thinks they really should consider it as him being basically on time. Joshua gives him an unimpressed look while Seungcheol smirks like he’s won something. Jeonghan slides into the free seat next to Joshua and reminds them both that he didn’t miss any of the actual movie, seeing as the commercials are just ending.
“What are you going to drink and eat?” Joshua challenges.
“Joshuji, don’t be like that,” Jeonghan gives him a lazy smile, tilting his head in a very practiced manner so some of the longer strands of his hair fall around his face, “I’ll help you with yours, of course. I’m taking care of your health.”
“Focus on yourself first,” Seungcheol whines - earning a sharp shush from a person behind him, so he continues in a lower voice, “You look so pale. Are you okay?”
It caught him off guard, he admits. Still, Jeonghan thinks he recovers quickly.
“It’s just the blue light - you know it makes me look horrible,” Jeonghan dismisses his concern, keeping his voice down despite not hearing himself over his own heartbeat, leaning back in his chair.
He did notice he looks, well, not like himself. Sickly for sure, but the weather’s been pretty bad this week, so he can totally lie and say it’s just a beginning flu or something. At least it seems that so far the garden blooming secretly in his chest could remain dormant.
And it does, for the whole first movie. There’s two more to go in the marathon they’re to watch today. The cinema has a special rerun event of some old series Seungcheol always raves about. He already made them watch it before, long time ago, but good movies don’t stop being good. And it makes him happy. Jeonghan’s just glad he was invited too.
During the short break, Jeonghan gets himself a bottle of cold water, acting like he doesn’t see the way Seungcheol gives Joshua the heart eyes. Or the quick kiss they share, murmuring love yous against each other’s lips.
Jeonghan wishes he found the sight so disgusting he’d want to vomit the contents of his stomach instead of his chest.
It gets worse. Not like he didn’t know it will, and truly he doesn’t mind. But it hurts. Both on a physical and emotional level. If at least the movie was sad and he could pretend to pathetically choke up. Instead he tries his best to pretend like he doesn’t feel like his lungs are being torn apart. It’d ruin the mood.
The lovebirds next to him aren’t as subtle as they probably think - as Seungcheol thinks. Jeonghan knows Joshua is more aware of all their little touches and interactions. Between the two of them, Joshua will have no illusions that there’s a chance someone wouldn’t notice his boyfriend cuddling up to him in the darkness of the theatre.
Jeonghan wishes it was him. Joshua could have Seungcheol when the blanket of darkness covers them and he’s more comfortable with public affection, Jeonghan could let him cling to him when the sun beams on them. He’d, naturally, include Joshua too whenever there wouldn’t be too many people around. To tease him, to reassure him that he doesn’t matter to him any less.
Currently, however, Jeonghan can only rise up from his seat and provide no explanation as to why he badly pretends not to rush towards the bathroom. He almost makes it. Well, makes it to the sink if not inside the stall. That’s good enough. It would be great even if it wasn’t for the guy who first asks if he’s alright and then, when Jeonghan nods while blood and baby blue petals pour out of his mouth, gives him a look full of pity.
Jeonghan makes up an excuse later, something about the popcorn disagreeing with his breakfast. Seungcheol and Joshua don’t seem to buy it, but it must be at least somewhat plausible since they don’t prod further.
One and a half more movies to go. Jeonghan’s chest feels lighter for now. He wonders if it can last, though.
Wonders if he can make it when Joshua’s hand guides his head to rest on his shoulder. He can only close his eyes for a moment and pray the nausea away.
Once the cinema part of their hang out is done, Jeonghan expects to grab something to eat with them but the moment he starts towards the food court, the two behind him clear their throats. He turns and gives them a questioning look.
“Are you sure that’s a smart idea?” Joshua asks him in a tone that answers his question, “You looked like you were about to die earlier.”
At least it suggests that he looks better now. That’s an improvement, even if he feels just as shitty as before.
“Yeah, maybe we should skip lunch here,” Seungcheol backs him up.
They’re both right, of course. So naturally Jeonghan disagrees.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” he gives them his sweetest pout, “I’m so hungry.”
They watch him for a second, then exchange a look and sigh.
“Whatever,” Joshua shrugs, “Don’t blame us if you shit yourself on the way home.”
Jeonghan would actually love to shit himself on the way home if it meant getting rid of the roots spreading through his body. But alas.
At least they don’t make a scene and just step forward, their arms around his shoulders and waist as they lead him forward. He wants to tell them he’s fine and can walk on his own, but it feels too nice. The petals tickle in his throat but he can swallow them back for now.
They split in the end, each getting their own meal at different places, though Seungcheol trails after him for a long time. It’s as endearing as it is frustrating and unhelpful. Jeonghan has long since realized it’s not butterflies that he feels in his stomach. Just the flowers turning his insides into an overgrown garden.
Somehow the eldest has still more trivia and little details to share about the movies they’ve just seen. Jeonghan bets he finds it as adorable as Joshua does, only somehow he feels like he shouldn’t. It hurts. It makes him hurt. The nausea comes and goes in waves that he manages to keep under control. For now. He realizes it’s only a matter of time but he’s going to enjoy every minute he has left.
Every sarcastic remark. Every wide-eyed in anger Joshua he can get. Every cherry red and whining Seungcheol. Every bump of their feet or knees under the small table because surely they couldn’t have picked a bigger one. It was Joshua’s call, though. He’s blameless in this.
By the time he heads to his car, leaving Seungcheol and Joshua to get into their own, Jeonghan is completely drained.
It must’ve been obvious enough seeing as the two kept offering to drive him, one his personal chauffeur and the other driving his car to his place. Jeonghan politely declined. Maybe too politely. But again, they did not push. They often don’t, usually they don’t. They know him too well, well enough to know pressure makes him clam up. He hopes they’ll understand if this time he keeps his secrets close.
His phone vibrates with a notification as soon as he starts the car. Then another.
Joshua.
Remember - if you shit yourself, we did warn you.
Seriously though… Are you alright?
Ding. Another message.
Hey… Are you really okay? Are you eating enough?
Seungcheol.
Are they texting instead of talking to each other? Texting him personally too, instead of opting for their group chat. Jeonghan resists the temptation to call them out, although that might reassure them more, all things considered. Instead he responds to them individually as well, phrasing his reassurances in slightly different ways. Maybe it’ll seem less fake and lazy if he does. He hopes so anyway.
Before he can pull out of his spot, he feels it. The tickling, the burning, his eyes watering. He pulls out the plastic bag that he never bothered to pick up after it slid under the passenger's seat and finally finds use for it.
There’s blot clots. Which is concerning, considering they haven’t been there that morning. Maybe he really should head to the hospital first. Or maybe he should give the supplements a few more shots. Jeonghan settles on flipping a coin but, interrupted by another wave of dry heaving, he never sees the outcome.
So he allows himself a couple of minutes for the trembling and shaking to stop before he starts the car again and drives home.
Maybe a long, long nap in his cozy bed will fix him.
Jeonghan always knew he’s lucky.
His illustrations got featured in a popular magazine soon after he started posting them online, once he finally mustered the courage to share his art with the world after years of keeping them hidden away in a drawer, so to speak. He’s always heard it was all his talent but he knew better. In this industry, it’s really more about luck than talent. And connections, if you have any.
Right now he thanks the stars again that there’s no need for him to commute to work, sit in a stuffy office, or really meet people because he’d for sure traumatise some kids on the streets if they saw him.
He splashes some cold water on his face and takes a long look at himself in the mirror. His sunken eyes, his hollow cheeks, his pale complexion. If he makes it to Halloween, he can just throw on some fancy clothes and call himself a vampire. If he has that long.
He’s become familiar with the tremor in his hands. Though he still hates to see it while he dries his hands and picks up the cup of tea he took with himself to the bathroom for some reason. He sets it next to his tablet next, where it belongs, on the strawberry-like coaster that Joshua knitted for him some time again. Knitted? Is that the right word - he can’t remember, not like it’s important since his friend already moved on to different hobbies.
Instead of worrying about the impact on his work, Jeonghan makes the most of his unsteady hands. Although his usual, and most popular, creations are full of color and flowy strokes, his darker, messy sketch-like illustrations get enough attention and commissions to sustain him for a while. So he takes the pen in his hand and starts working on a piece with a deadline that’s by no means urgent, but who knows if he would be able to meet it if he doesn’t get to it now.
His moody thoughts, fortunately, help him get into the flow as well. It’s quite therapeutic, he thinks, to get all his fears and anxieties out through art. It makes it easy to focus.
Until his phone lights up with a video call request, that is.
Seungcheol. Great.
He accepts, sees Joshua in the picture as well. Great.
“Hey, how have you been?” Joshua chirps. His happiness sounds about as real as the lego plants on his table look. “You ghosted us yesterday.”
Shit. Did he? He tries to remember, but lately his memory’s been getting foggy. And so he gives them a long hum while he sneakily opens their group chat and there it is - unanswered, sad little invite for late night ramyeon.
“Sorry, I must’ve opened it half-asleep and forgot,” Jeonghan chuckles. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened. Nothing too out of the ordinary.
They don’t buy it. Joshua’s eyes narrow and Seungcheol’s expression hardens.
“Han-ah,” Seungcheol says, carefully, hesitantly, because he knows Jeonghan hates it when they talk like this, “What’s going on?”
And damn, he does hate it. He hates the concern. He hates relying on someone, even though he’s really much weaker than he shows to the world. And especially when it’s Joshua and Seungcheol. They always see through him and it makes him feel even worse. It makes him angry too. Because this time he can’t tell them what’s wrong.
“Nothing,” Jeonghan insists, petulantly, “It’s just the weather getting to me. You know how I get when it’s freezing one day and scorching the next.”
“We do,” Joshua acknowledges, “So we also know when that’s not it.”
He bites the inside of his cheek. He needs to do better.
“I’m really fine,” he tries again. Softer, quieter. Vulnerable. The type of tone you use when you’re not really fine but need someone to believe you are. But then they don’t ignore the facts and reach out their hand to save you. Only this isn’t some kind of heart wrenching drama and he really only needs them to understand he can get through this alone. At least until he can’t, and then it’ll be too late anyway.
“Hannie,” Seungcheol whispers.
“Cheollie,” Jeonghan smiles, doesn’t allow the corner of his lips to wobble, “Just- give me a bit more time, yeah?”
“We’re just worried,” Joshua reminds him, just as quietly, as if speaking too loud would cause Jeonghan to flinch and run away like a scared rabbit, “We love you. You know that.”
That… isn’t really the thing to say. He feels the pang in his heart and the tears in his eyes, but he masks it by pretending to choke on spit and drinking some tea. He needs to wash down the petals. Better to upset his stomach than to spill it all out in front of them. Then he pretends to cough the tea out into the bucket under the table.
He needed to start keeping plenty of those all around the place.
Above his heaving, he can hear Joshua and Seungcheol calling his name. They sound concerned, reasonably so. They’re always so reasonably concerned. It pisses him off. Like this isn’t all their- It’s not. Of course it’s not. He sighs.
How could he ever tell them?
He rises from under the table and he knows he looks like death when he fans his face and babbles about getting old and fragile, defeated by a few drops of water going down the wrong pipe.
“Jeonghan-” Joshua starts but then locks eyes with Jeonghan through the camera.
It stops him right in his tracks, Seungcheol straightens next to him, both leaning closer as if witnessing something supernatural. But it’s just Jeonghan. Just Jeonghan looking at Joshua with pleading eyes. The same look he gave him when Joshua found him on his doorstep, crying over the guy Joshua told him was no good. The same look he gave him years before that, when Joshua caught him sneaking around with another guy with a bad reputation.
Has he always been trying to self-destruct before his feelings for them got him?
Joshua exhales, slowly, through his nose before slumping in his chair. Seungcheol bites his lip, watching Jeonghan’s face with an unreadable look.
“We’re here, always,” Joshua mumbles, “It’s not just empty words.”
Jeonghan breathes a small sigh of relief, so small he barely notices. To be honest, he doesn’t know if it’s truly relief or just satisfaction of winning again. But what is he winning?
“I know,” he nods, “And I love you both too. Sorry I’m difficult.”
“A week,” Seungcheol grumbles, so resolute and clear that it cuts through the air and makes Jeonghan jump, “A week and then we’re doing an intervention.”
“Sooner than that if you ever don’t respond within two hours or ghost us again,” Joshua quickly backs him up.
He smiles despite himself. There’s defeat in his voice when he hums in agreement. “Got it. Anyway, I should get back to work.”
To work. And to pouring out the mess he made before the rusty smell of blood and decaying flowers makes him throw up for real.
“Can you please promise us you’ll go see a doctor?” Seungcheol interrupts him before he can end the call. Jeonghan feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Please?” Joshua adds.
Jeonghan doesn’t want to cry in front of them. He won’t cry in front of them.
“I’ve done that already,” he somehow manages to push back the moisture in his eyes and give them a smile that’s more genuine than it’s been in probably weeks, “I got the meds, they should start working any day now. I really just didn’t want to worry you.”
It seems to be doing the exact opposite, but before Joshua can lay into him about it, Seungcheol stops him. They both look defeated.
“Five days,” Joshua murmurs, “I don’t care if I have to pay for the ER visit.”
Jeonghan chuckles, weakly.
“Got it,” he whispers.
He doesn’t manage another smile before he hangs up.
They say you see your life flash before your eyes while you’re dying.
But Jeonghan wants to ask - does it happen all at once? Or slowly over time? Lately he’s been too nostalgic. The guys tease him for it too, almost as much as they seem relieved by seeing Jeonghan smile and laugh more. He can’t help it. He remembers the good times. The bad times too, but he’s never been one to linger on those too much.
He’s not angry. Not at all. He doesn’t blame Joshua or Seungcheol, not for the baby blue flowers turning him into a moving greenhouse, not for their obliviousness as to what’s the real issue going on. How could they know?
He started to make peace with it. He’s been fortunate, he had a good life. He’s met them and he’s been allowed to be with them until the end - what more could he ask for? Really, this is good enough. And they seem set for the future too, so that’s a relief.
Joshua seems to hope that sharing good news will keep Jeonghan happy, which in turn will help him recover faster. And it does help in many ways. Jeonghan wants to believe they’ll buy the new, bigger apartment they found. Seungcheol seems to really like it, and the gym in the complex. They should be busy with the move, busy enough for it to take their mind off Jeonghan.
It reminds him of when they were moving in together. That was the only time in their shared history that they’ve barely talked, even if they still texted on a daily basis. And they made it up to him afterwards, though there really was no reason for them to do that.
It’s bittersweet to think about now, but he wants to remember as much as he can while he still can.
The only memory he doesn’t allow himself to really relive is the one of their fall out that almost cost them their friendship. The drunken night when he yelled at them for what felt like hours, listing every little thing that made them unloveable. Of course he’s over his silly childhood crush on Joshua. Of course he’s uncomfortable with Seungcheol’s feelings towards him.
It happened after the first time Jeonghan spotted the pale blue blossoms on his pillow after a bad coughing fit.
He doesn’t remember what he said. Knowing it happened is enough to make him feel like he should go die in a ditch somewhere. Their wide eyes overflowing with tears without a word. The confusion and hurt etched onto their faces.
Why didn’t he choose a different path? He wonders. Wonders, looking back at the shy smiles they’ve all exchanged at some point - after Seungcheol and Joshua got together. Remembering how Seungcheol’s hand would sometimes brush against his like an offering. Feeling the ghost of Joshua’s lips on his cheek when he got cream on his skin eating one of the cupcakes the younger made. Did it mean something?
They’ve never quite gone back to how things were before the two became an item, understandably. But over time they got really close. Does that mean something?
Well, Jeonghan’s always been skittish and they’ve always been kind. Too kind. And too observant. It scared him then and it scares him now. Perhaps if they watch him too closely, they’ll see he’s not enough. He really isn’t. Not before and not after what he’s done that night.
Jeonghan doesn’t know how they could’ve forgiven him.
He grovelled. He grovelled hard. Of course he did.
Honestly, thinking as objectively as he can, though he has nothing but disgust for himself and his words and actions in that situation, he did what he could to fix it, to make up for it, to prove himself and prove that those words he said were lies.
Their friendship made a comeback, somehow, in many ways it became stronger too. Their bond was mended, but neither of the two would’ve ever thought again that Jeonghan could be interested in them. There simply was no way, as much as it hurts him. And he’s accepted that. He’s made peace with that.
Still he wants to ask. For no reason other than his own pride, or perhaps closure. Yet Jeonghan knows he’s a coward and he never will ask. He knows he’s the kind of person that gives up rather than try something risky, at least when it comes to matters of the heart. He’d rather keep Joshua and Seungcheol safe and happy than be honest. What if Seungcheol settled for Joshua? What if Joshua settled for Seungcheol? He knows that’s not the case. Anyone who knows them can see it. But he also wants to be wanted, by nobody but them.
So naturally his biggest worry is, what if they don’t care for Jeonghan anymore? They say the worst they can say is no but this is the kind of no that Jeonghan knows he’d never recover from.
Anyway, there was that railway park they used to hang out in when they were in high school- And he’s pulling out his phone to reminisce with them. Even if it’s 1am and they were probably already asleep.
They listen. And they chuckle along and feed into his old man ramblings about the good old times for another hour before someone, who really knows, falls asleep. Maybe it was Jeonghan himself. Who knows. He wakes up on his fluffy rug, phone in his hand and a screenshot of his face, sleeping with his mouth hanging open, set as the background of their group chat.
He sends them a couple of embarrassing pics he has of them in retaliation.
Then it’s time for the usual coughing out of his lungs and violent sobbing to be spared from this torture.
His time is running out. He can feel it. There is a strange sense of peace that comes with the inevitable. Like Jeonghan is cocooned in the storm of baby blue petals littering almost every surface of his home. The blood he makes an effort to clean up. To the flowers he got too attached. When he’s gone, they’ll remain, the proof that he loved to the point of suffering. Maybe an apology? He hopes Seungcheol and Joshua could accept them as that but he doubts it.
Twirling the perfectly formed little blossom between his fingers, he gets lost in memories once more. The blue reminds him of the summer sky. No place in particular. Just a collage of all the times the three of them walked side by side, laughing, talking, in silence, running, with purpose, lost, wandering. The sky will remember them as three even after there’s only two.
Jeonghan feels his phone vibrate next to him but he makes no effort to pick it up. He doubts he could; lately the small device has grown too heavy. Was it selfish that he left no note? No last, dramatic phone call? Will that hurt them more? Jeonghan doesn’t think so. They have the keys to his apartment anyway, he doesn’t doubt they’ll come here. They’ll see the flowers, hopefully dried and not disgusting decaying mush. He should’ve thought about that more. His mind has been foggy for weeks, though.
Ambulance siren.
He thinks it’s too quick. He hopes he didn’t ruin someone else’s chance at survival by calling for help. Truly he didn’t want to. He thought he could get to the hospital himself. He couldn’t - his body doesn’t listen to him. He waited for too long. And now his only chance is… what exactly? Death, he supposes. But then it’d be a waste to bother the doctors. He wants to live. If he can. He’s not exactly sure how, but if he makes it to the hospital he might learn more about his options.
They could remove the flowers, maybe. Jeonghan is hesitant to believe in that, considering how long and wild they’ve been growing inside his body. And considering how innately interwoven his life is with Joshua’s and Seungcheol’s. Even if the meadow inside of him could be removed, would he want it too? He’s not sure. His feelings towards them are such a big part of him, after all. What would be left of him if his love was gone?
The front door creaks.
He left it unlocked, wisely, to make it easier for himself or whoever would come to find him. The siren still howls through the street. It doesn’t sound like a lullaby but his body seems to accept it as that. Like it’s giving up at the thought of help being near.
He hears heavy steps. His eyes fall closed slowly. The pressure and discomfort in his chest rises. Fortunately he doesn’t feel much of it.
And then there’s voices. Hands turning him over. Something… Something and then darkness.
Is he floating or is he sinking? His sense of direction is off. Either way, Jeonghan doesn’t like this submerged feeling. Like he’s cocooned in something he shouldn’t be, somewhere he doesn’t belong. His body is heavy but light at the edges. Unfocused, a smudged sketch. The air he breathes feels too sharp and clean, too clinical, robbed of everything that makes up the air he should be breathing.
The thought occurs to him that he should try moving. It’s slight at first, what he’s able to do. A twitch to his fingers that feel far away, like his arms are stretching into eternity. But it’s still his body, no matter how foreign it feels. How light or heavy, or empty. It’s time to wake up.
Jeonghan opens his eyes to a white ceiling. It takes him a moment to recognize his surroundings, to realize he doesn’t exist in an endless bubble of white. When he tries to move his arm again, he finds that he can’t. Something is holding him down. Someone is preventing him from moving.
“What were you thinking?”
It takes him a moment to recognize the voice. First of all because he’s barely conscious, second of all because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Joshua - the always gentle, calm, steady Joshua - this angry. He clears his throat, frowns because it feels like it’s filled with sand. He hears a sigh before his bed is being adjusted into a position where he’s sitting up without moving a muscle. A glass of cool water is pressed to his lips next. Jeonghan drinks obediently, perfectly pliant under Joshua’s gaze. He notes how cold the younger’s hand is, gripping his chin with gentleness he doesn’t deserve. He nods when he’s drunk enough.
“Do you want to die?”
Right now? No. No, definitely not. Maybe? No. Not while Joshua is looking at least. And not while it doesn’t hurt. Before? He can’t really say.
“How did you find me?” he asks instead, voice like nails on chalkboard, “How did you find out?”
“We’re your emergency contacts,” Joshua deadpans.
Oh. Oh.
“Shit,” he groans.
“Yeah,” Joshua rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest.
He looks… angry. Yes. Definitely angry. But his eyes are glazed over, glassy. Red at the corners. Joshua’s anger only makes him look more vulnerable, more than Jeonghan thinks he himself looks. And that’s to say something with him sitting in a hospital bed, hooked to some beeping devices and an iv drip, in a hospital gown that’s too big for him. He licks his lips, fiddling with his fingers.
He feels tired. So, so tired.
“I’m sorry,” he says. What else is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do?
Looking anywhere but Joshua’s face, he spots Joshua’s boyfriend. Seungcheol is sitting by the other side of the bed, in a very uncomfortable looking chair, his head resting on his arms crossed on the bed. His cheeks are crusty with dried tears, hair messy like he’s been running his hands through it over and over again.
Joshua hums. Jeonghan looks down at his lap again. He turns the hospital bracelet around his wrist.
“I… I didn’t want you to find out,” he whispers, “I didn’t think it was this bad.”
A lie. But with some luck, Joshua won’t know. Think, sure. But he won’t know.
“You wanted it to happen,” Joshua says, no doubt in his voice, pure bite, “You were ready to die instead of just fucking talking to anyone.”
He turns towards him again so quickly that Jeonghan raises his gaze. Suddenly he is six again. Being scolded in front of the classroom for a prank he thought would only hurt him if it went wrong.
“Did you even stop and think about me? About Cheol? Your fucking friends and family?” Joshua’s voice is barely above whisper, cracking and cold like ice. It stabs Jeonghan with every syllable spoken.
“I didn’t think much,” Jeonghan confesses, quietly, just enough to be called speech but so quiet he wonders if Joshua would hear, “It hurt so bad. I just wanted it to end.”
Joshua swallows heavily and turns away again. Jeonghan wants to beg him to look at him. This feels too much like a rejection.
“Great,” Joshua scoffs. For a second it looks like he’ll get up and walk away. Jeonghan knows he isn’t strong enough to stop him, to reach for him, and he finds it scares him more than collapsing, more than feeling his lungs fill with petals, more than his life blacking out into nothingness.
“Please don’t go,” he pleads, urgently. His voice breaks when he tries to speak again. His eyes water. His vision blurs and all he cares about is seeing Joshua and what he’s gonna do. He hears another sigh. Something cold grips his hand.
“I’m here,” Joshua says, all fight gone from his voice, “I’m here.”
They sit in silence for a while, Joshua’s thumb stroking the back of his hand. Jeonghan’s trying to get the unshed tears under control. Then he hears sniffling that’s not his. He looks up with wide eyes, just in time to see the moment Joshua breaks.
“Do you have any idea-” his voice gives out. Joshua takes a deep breath, then lets it all out, takes another moment to collect himself despite the tears streaming down his cheeks and sobs wrecking his body, “Do you have any idea how many times we’ve asked that of you in the past three days?”
Now it’s Jeonghan’s time to look away, look down in shame. Tears burn his skin. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He was gone. Almost. He was very far away. It scares him, deep down, and at the same time he feels a strange sense of elation. Like he could do anything, survive anything - except the two men in front of him. They will forever remain his kryptonite, he figures.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, helplessly. He tries to look at the man doubled over next to him but all he sees is water.
“You could just tell us,” Joshua almost begs, “We’d… I don’t know. We’d help you. We’d do anything-”
“It’s you,” Jeonghan finally breathes out. What’s the point in hiding it anymore? The flowers in his chest will kill him soon anyway. As much as he appreciates them being here, he figures it’s not exactly helping his condition. So he does the reasonable, responsible thing. The thing he should’ve done a long time ago. “Both of you.”
He doesn’t look at Joshua. He can’t. So he instead watches as his own hand moves, slowly, shakily, and combs through Seungcheol’s hair. He doesn’t wake up, yet he leans into Jeonghan’s touch with a soft, small whimper-like sound. It makes him smile.
Is that a wise thing to do? Right after confessing to Seungcheol’s boyfriend? Right in front of the man? He doesn’t know. But he feels Joshua won’t be too upset, given the circumstances. He’s always been too kind, he won’t yell at a dying man.
“What was I supposed to do?” Jeonghan continues, humorlessly despite the smile, “Break you up? That wouldn’t help.”
“It has to be both of you or there’s no point,” he sighs, “It’s pointless, Shua. Everything is. I’m happy for you. Both of you. I’ve always been. It’s just… Yeah. A bad coincidence. It’s nobody’s fault.”
He clears his throat. It’s killing him. He feels the phantom pain of the petals blooming, replacing any hope he ever felt. Yet there’s still time, he thinks. The doctors have surely done something that would give him some time. Hopefully enough to get his things in order. Hopefully enough to get through to Joshua and Seungcheol, to make sure they don’t feel guilty. Is it selfish that he wants them to feel a little sad when he’s not around anymore? Not all the time. Just sometimes, when silence falls between them, he wishes at least one of them would remember him.
“What?” Joshua hisses. It’s probably not meant to sound so harsh, but after all that crying, he must be struggling to breathe. Jeonghan shrugs.
“I can’t help it,” he hums, “I tried. Really, it’s not-”
He’s yanked up. It hurts. Joshua’s fists are clenched around the collar of his hospital gown. The stiff fabric cuts into the back of his neck. Seungcheol gets startled awake by the jolt of Jeonghan’s body.
“-shua?” he grumbles, confused, then his expression shifts and he looks mortified, “Jeonghan?! What are you doing, Shua?”
Seungcheol’s crying too. He can hear it. And Jeonghan hates himself because that’s the last thing he’s ever wanted to do - to make either of them cry. Joshua’s tears fall down on his face too as the youngest chokes on sobs. His grip tightens and tightens, Jeonghan worries the bones in Joshua’s hands will crack. He feels helpless. What can he do? He doesn’t want them to cry, doesn’t want them to feel guilty. It’s not their fault his heart has a will of its own.
It’s just always been them.
A cruel twist of fate. Nobody’s at fault here.
“What’s going on, Shua?” Seungcheol begs, weakly gripping Joshua’s elbow, then barely brushing against Jeonghan’s body like he wants to lift him up but he gives up and tries calming Joshua again, like he’s scared Joshua will snap Jeonghan’s neck.
“This idiot-” Joshua sniffs, “This selfish jerk.”
He sobs and Jeonghan wants to wipe those tears away but he’s too weak. His tears fall too. How can he make this better?
“He, Cheol he almost died,” Joshua’s voice sounds nothing like him. It sounds too weak, like music playing out of a broken speaker. Like the contacts between Joshua and his vocal cords are frayed. Yet Jeonghan has to keep listening to this grief distorted version of Joshua, “He’d rather die than be with us.”
Jeonghan frowns. His head starts shaking from side to side without him realizing. That’s not it. That’s not it. He’s literally dying because he can’t be with them. He’d give up anything for the chance, for a world where it could be real. But it’s not here.
“What?” Seungcheol looks from Joshua to Jeonghan. Just as lost as Jeonghan is.
“It’s us,” Joshua says flatly. Jeonghan falls back onto the bed with a thud that resonates through his hollow body. Joshua falls back into the chair, his head in his hands. He’s pulling on his hair. “It’s us.”
Seungcheol, who previously tried to assess whether Jeonghan is alright, deflates, sags back into his seat as well. He stares blankly ahead. Jeonghan is utterly and completely lost. This is the scariest scene he’s ever seen. Scarier than death, than the pain. The silence stretches on, only broken by the hospital room ambience that he tunes out.
“Is it true?” Seungcheol asks. Without feeling, like a ghost asking an empty room.
Jeonghan thinks that maybe if he stays quiet for long enough, that will be an answer too. But then he thinks that perhaps they’ve both experienced enough of his silence to last a lifetime in the past days.
“Yeah,” he swallows, almost choking on a lump in his throat, “It is.”
“Why?”
Now it’s apparently Seungcheol’s turn to be angry, angry and fragile - more fragile and on the verge of breaking precisely because of that anger. And Jeonghan wishes he could do something, anything. But even talking takes so much out of him.
“I didn’t choose it,” Jeonghan laughs. It makes him cry harder. He really didn’t. If given the chance, though, he thinks he would choose them anyway.
“Why not tell us?” Seungcheol is on his knees. Jeonghan shakes his head, his hands reach to do something but Seungcheol just softly takes them in his. Can he see Jeonghan? Jeonghan sure doesn’t see him over the cascading tears.
“You’re dating, Cheol,” Jeonghan sniffles, “Shua, too. You’re dating. How could I-”
“Because we want you too,” Joshua whimpers.
And Jeonghan still can’t see clearly. And Seungcheol lets go of his hand, lets Joshua take it while he grips the other tighter, pressing his forehead against the back of Jeonghan’s hand like a man praying.
“When did we ever not want you?” Joshua intertwines their fingers. What’s softer - his voice or his touch, Jeonghan can’t tell.
The room falls speechless again, filled with sniffles and broken gasps. Like a group of survivors amidst debris of a ruined world. Jeonghan’s chest feels tight, yet at the same time it feels like something has dislodged itself inside his ribcage.
Lips touch the back of his hand. Then each of his knuckles. Then his other palm is pressed against a wet cheek, lips leaving a wet mark against his palm next. Neither of them seems to want to let go but how is Jeonghan supposed to see, then? How is he supposed to get rid of the tears that won’t stop coming.
“Are you-”
“No,” Seungcheol murmurs against his wrist, his lips having trailed up his hand.
“Do you think we’d joke about this?” Joshua scolds him, without any fire, without hurt or disappointment. It sounds more like a snip of garden shears.
Jeonghan swallows, sniffles, tries to stop the snot from dripping down from his nose but he can’t. He really doesn’t want to look more pathetic than he already does. But his hands are full and he cares more about not letting go than his image.
“Here, let me help,” Joshua smiles. He can hear it in his voice. And next there’s a tissue rubbing at his nose and helping him blow it.
It’s awkward. It’s a little embarrassing, but his hands stay safe and sound in theirs.
“I hate you,” Seungcheol suddenly says.
That’s the first thing Jeonghan finally sees - the eldest of them looking worse than he’s ever seen him through their decades long history. Face red, eyes red, lips red from being bitten raw. He’s still crying like a baby, even as he wipes Jeonghan’s tears before wiping his own.
“I hate you too,” Joshua reminds him next.
Jeonghan laughs, his head hanging low. Not the best move. As if his head wasn’t already spinning, his mind reeling, vertigo rips into his body. The moment he whines in pain, he’s gently pushed back, the bed lowered back down.
“Are you okay?” Seungcheol is already fussing over him, cupping his cheek to make Jeonghan look at him.
He doesn’t let go of his hand.
Jeonghan nods.
“We should let him sleep some more,” Joshua says, running a hand through Jeonghan’s hair.
If he keeps doing that, Jeonghan might be more willing to succumb to sleep. Even if he doesn’t get much say in it.
“Don’t want to,” he murmurs, “Not now that-”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Seungcheol stops him, a desperate edge in his voice.
“As long as you’re not abandoning us either,” Joshua adds softly.
Jeonghan shakes his head. It takes only a moment before he slips away from the world, temporarily.
By the time Jeonghan is cleared to leave the hospital, he can no longer return to his old place.
Not necessarily because of any issues regarding the apartment itself but because of circumstances far scarier and serious.
Seungcheol helps him into the car despite Jeonghan’s insisting he’s fine and doesn’t need anyone hovering around him. He can’t so much as sigh before Seungcheol also buckles his seatbelt for him, Joshua chuckling behind the wheel while he waits for his boyfriend to get in too.
Jeonghan is still embarrassed. So much so that he pretends to fall asleep five minutes into the ride. It doesn’t help exactly. He can feel their gazes on him, no doubt worried he might double over any second and start throwing up flowers again. The doctor said he should be fine, that he should recover if things go well - giving all three of them both exasperated and somehow understanding look - but it doesn’t seem to be enough for the two.
They haven’t really talked about it after the day he woke up. It. Them. Jeonghan thinks it’s his fault. He’s painfully aware of the fact that whenever the mood seemed to shift or either of them seemed just a little too nervous to speak up, he bristles and shuts down before a single word can be spoken. At some point, they must’ve just given up.
As guilty as he feels, also feels relieved. He’s not really sure how to proceed now. What is he supposed to do? What do they want him to do?
How can you just confess your love to someone when you’re already in a happy and stable relationship? Are they messing with him? Jeonghan would be willing to believe they have no idea the disease doesn’t go away just because the other person confesses if it wasn’t for Joshua being weirdly obsessed with it at some point and Seungcheol romanticising the shit out of it in high school.
Maybe they forgot. He wants to believe they did, but they both care about him way too much for that to be a plausible theory.
At least he gets so lost in thought that when Seungcheol squeezes his shoulder to wake him up, he does startle like he was really sleeping. He’s too dazed to unbuckle his seatbelt before the older can do it for him, so that leaves pouting to express how offended he is as the only thing for him to do. It gets worse when Joshua opens the door for him.
“You really don’t need to-”
Words die in his throat when he avoids looking at Joshua and instead looks straight ahead to where his building should be. Except it’s not. He frowns.
“Where are we?” he abandons his plan and meets Joshua’s eyes.
“Home,” the younger grins, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
Jeonghan turns to look at Seungcheol while he rounds the car and comes to stand next to Joshua, wrapping an arm around his waist as if to support him.
“What he said,” Seungcheol smiles, sheepishly, “We’re home. You just need to come in.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have leaned into the weak, frail just-out-of-hospital character. He’s too emotionally drained for this. His head is spinning and his chest feels tight. Maybe he should’ve talked to them because he has no idea what this means. They must be concerned for him, they definitely are. Do they want him to stay with them so they can take care of him for the time being? But after everything, they must realize that would be a horrible idea, right?
“What do you mean?” he asks with a sigh. And perhaps some of the fear he feels bleeds into his voice because their demeanor changes too.
“Hey, Han,” Joshua now wears a matching frown as he reaches for Jeonghan’s hand. He lets him take it. “Calm down.”
Joshua’s hand is warm. Somehow it always is. Jeonghan’s seen Joshua being cold many times but whenever they touched, even in the middle of those freezing winters, he always felt warm.
Except for the hospital.
“Just trust us,” Seungcheol asks, quietly, and Jeonghan’s never been good at telling them no.
And so he does - under the condition he gets to carry his bag on his own. He tries not to fixate too much on how Joshua refuses to let go of his hand or Seungcheol’s palm against the small of his back as they lead him inside the building, then the elevator and finally to a door.
It’s plain, no doormat in front of it, no sign of wear. Just a door. Yet somehow it feels like it’s about to change Jeonghan’s life, a feeling he can’t explain or properly describe.
“Pay attention,” Joshua squeezes his hand, bringing his attention to his other hand pushing in the code while murmuring the sequence under his breath. Seungcheol opens the door for them.
And turns out, Jeonghan’s feeling was right.
There’s no big fuss. No dramatic, tearful conversations.
It starts with Joshua kissing his cheek, his lips whispering a welcome home against his skin before doing the same to Seungcheol. It starts with Seungcheol making him jump when he hugs him from behind and holds him while they wait for the water to finish boiling.
None of those actions are unprecedented per se; Seungcheol’s always been clingy, Joshua’s always been playful with him. But they feel different now. Jeonghan finds himself freezing and his chest tightening, yet no petals spill from his lips. Maybe it’s just whatever the doctors gave him working.
That first night they sleep on the couch.
Some movie is playing in the background while Joshua scrolls through the catalogue of a furniture store, Jeonghan’s head on his shoulder. He’s pressed against Joshua’s side because Seungcheol is pressed against his back and he just somehow ended up sandwiched between them.
Again, not the first time, but usually at least two of them would be tipsy or drunk or bored beyond reason. Usually it doesn’t feel this calculated and it doesn’t last this long.
Usually Jeonghan’s not aware of Seungcheol’s heartbeat or Joshua leaning his head against Jeonghan’s when he’s thinking about what the best color for their bathroom shelves would be. And they wouldn’t be asking Jeonghan for his opinion - and he wouldn’t give serious answers.
They finalized paperwork for the apartment the day Jeonghan collapsed, he learns, so they’ve moved and unpacked only the bare necessities. Joshua hums something about it being a good thing because at least now they all get to start from square one.
The realization slowly starts to dawn on Jeonghan that it doesn’t matter if he won’t talk because messy feelings aside, Seungcheol and Joshua are probably the only two people he’d let control his life because they’d do a better job than he himself would. And apparently, right now they’ve decided to pick up the pieces he broke himself into.
Jeonghan ends up sleeping between them, too afraid to move as if he could break whatever spell compelled them to stick by him despite his self-destructive decisions. They’re a mess of intertwined limbs and desperate clinging to each other. In other words: they’re perfect, and Jeonghan sleeps through the night for the first time in what feels like forever.
A few days later Seungcheol tries to prove something to someone by building their new bed by himself. Having insisted that professionals do it and then being disregarded by Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan spend the time unpacking Jeonghan’s things in his room.
The air is a little tense. Jeonghan might’ve joined, hesitantly, the process of picking the bed Seungcheol is now building and the mattress that’s still rolled up and vacuum-packed, but he asked to have the spare room for himself. At least for the time being.
Which neither of them had an issue with. The plan for the future - though is it really a plan if they had no say in their feelings - is as clear as it is unspoken. Navigating their new reality will be a challenge, however, and all things considered it’s perfectly reasonable that Jeonghan would want space first. Joshua seemed relieved when he joked about Jeonghan making it very clear how afraid he is to ruin his and Seungcheol’s relationship and Jeonghan laughed, albeit a little sheepishly, and teased him back.
The issue really isn’t Jeonghan wanting a room for himself. It’s which room he picked and Joshua’s stubbornness. They gave up on trying to persuade Seungcheol he doesn’t need to prove himself to them by putting the bed together with his own hands, he similarly gave up on interfering with their little argument about the room.
Because Joshua’s plan for what is now Jeonghan’s room was to be a guest room and he wanted Jeonghan to take the other room and later on, if things go well, they’d change it into an office. He didn’t want Jeonghan to ever feel like a guest in their home - his home, Joshua emphasized. Which wasn’t the case for Jeonghan, who really just preferred the lighting in this one over the other.
Their spats never last long and at least nothing changed about that. Joshua apologizes for being sensitive, Jeonghan teases him with a glint in his eyes that’s pure warmth and affection, nothing to spark another argument.
In the end, unlike Seungcheol, they figure it out.
They’re not back to normal, but they’re getting there. In many ways, they’ve been through worse. Building, nurturing a relationship is definitely better than the few times they fought and they were all anxiously checking their phones every few seconds for a message or a call that just wasn’t coming, unsure if this silence is how their decades-long history ends.
Jeonghan is slowly getting used to being included in their affection. He accepts it a little too eagerly if he’s honest, but that’s only for him to know and for them to have a hunch about when they catch him off guard. Which isn’t hard, to be fair. After everything, after what he’s done to himself over the past years and months and most of all the few final weeks, Jeonghan can’t shake off the feeling that things will go south.
He persuaded himself he’ll ruin what Seungcheol and Joshua have and be grateful they decided to remain friends with him at all and that he needs to be fine with the crumbs he’s given. Though it was just him being cruel to himself.
Because their new normal is not that far from how they’ve been when they were all single, through their mutual messy three way crushes on one another, even when Seungcheol and Joshua finally got together. Jeonghan always used to joke that he’s not a third wheel but a spare tire. Deep down he’s always been afraid to be shut out. And now that he gets exactly what he wants, he feels even more paranoid.
It’s already a miracle he gets to live at all - is it really alright for him to get Joshua and Seungcheol too? He tenses up at every loving gentle touch, at every soft press of lips against his skin, before he relaxes.
A few weeks in, however, his worries tend to linger in his mind as he washes up and tries to fall asleep only to be melted away in the morning.
Sometimes he wakes up first. He turns on the tv and listens to the news while he makes himself coffee and zones out, looking out of the window. About an hour later he makes two cups of coffee and a cup of tea for himself, just in time to hear steps shuffling into the living room and Seungcheol changing the channel while Joshua greets Jeonghan with a smile and pats his head, stroking down his back and leaving his hand at the base of his spine. Seungcheol joins them soon, hugging him until his coffee is ready.
Sometimes Joshua wakes up first and if he’s in a good mood, that’s Jeonghan’s favorite way to wake up. Because as soon as he steps out of his room, there’s quiet music to be heard and closer to the kitchen, the sound turns into humming accompanying the radio. If there’s time and he feels like it, Joshua likes to cook in the morning and fresh homemade breakfast from a beautiful man is among Jeonghan’s top ten favorite things. And as a cherry on top, Joshua always tells him to go wake up Seungcheol while he plates the food. Sleepy, clingy men with raspy voices and messy, fluffy hair easily make it into the top ten too.
Seungcheol sometimes doesn’t sleep and greets them in the morning looking like a tortured artist. The coffee is ready, however, and there's soothing background music that failed to put him to sleep still playing. He feels too nauseous to eat with them but never fails to watch them with glazed over eyes that make Jeonghan shy now that he’s on the receiving end of that saccharine look. Seungcheol’s remedy of choice is, naturally, lying down with his head in one of their laps. He doesn’t always fall asleep like that but whenever he does, both Jeonghan and Joshua exchange a proud look.
It feels natural. And maybe that’s why he’s finally able to talk about it. Or maybe it’s because it’s Joshua and Seungcheol, the two people who really know him. There’s no drama. Just a simple talk about expectations, feelings, and setting rules. It feels like any other conversation they’ve ever had like this - late night bleeding into early morning, table full of empty cans and half-eaten snacks. Only this time it’s just sodas.
Some things have to be talked about sober. The courage has to come from willingness to work for something, not liquor.
When the time comes, Jeonghan doesn’t renew the lease on his apartment.
And then one day Jeonghan doesn’t wake up in his bed. He opens his eyes to see sleeping Joshua and Seungcheol. Mostly Seungcheol, Joshua’s face is hidden in his shoulder, but it changes nothing on the click Jeonghan all but actually feels in his brain. Although snuggled against his boyfriend, Joshua’s hand rests on Jeonghan’s waist. And Jeonghan’s head rests on Seungcheol’s bicep. They look peaceful, beautiful. And among the mess of innocent and less so thoughts Jeonghan suddenly realizes he thinks of them as his.
Which means he doesn’t bring it up until another month or so later after ruminating on it day and night to the point of near insanity, no matter how frequent him sleeping in their - their - bedroom has become.
“We know,” Joshua hums at Jeonghan’s sputtered announcement.
It just sort of ripped out of his chest without permission, shattering the comfortable silence of their morning like a hammer thrown against a glass panel. Joshua is still munching on the cereal in his mouth, Seungcheol takes another sip of his coffee.
“You’re ours too,” he then smiles, satisfied and proud, like he’s won a bet Jeonghan had no idea about.
“How did you know?” he deflates with relief.
“It’s been pretty long now,” Seungcheol says, careful and hesitant. Something remains unsaid and Jeonghan can’t figure out what is it.
“We haven’t seen any flowers scattered around,” Joshua helps him out, even quieter than Seungcheol’s been.
Jeonghan chuckles, in disbelief, in awe at forgetting about that himself. Though he supposed it is that kind of memory he’d like to repress remembering.
“So what I hear is you think I don’t buy you enough flowers,” he sighs dramatically, “I better work on that.”
They don’t push him. It is too fresh for them too. All of them know they’ll have to unpack it one day, but for now they’re happy enough and Jeonghan is healthy. That’s all that matters.
“As long as they’re not blue,” Seungcheol grumbles.
“I’ll keep the blue for the bow then,” Jeonghan promises, earning himself two matching glares.
(He does keep his promise. And since the flowers are a gift, the two can’t get too mad at him. What they can and end up doing, though, is ask to be comforted with kisses. Jeonghan obliges a little too fast.)
Looking back, Jeonghan realizes how much he worried about jealousy. Himself being jealous of them, the two being jealous once they start dating Jeonghan too and suddenly they’ll have to share each other’s attention with a third guy. But strangely, it just never happened.
No doubt because Joshua made it a rule to talk. Because Jeonghan started working on communicating. Because Seungcheol had to work twice as hard on not keeping his overthinking to himself.
And of course it’s not like their friendship with Jeonghan wasn’t kind of borderline before. Maybe not that much has changed. Feelings were simply given freedom to run free.
As Jeonghan ponders it now, he can only sigh and smile. He was stupid. But the flow of life seems to have brought him to where he always belonged in the end, despite his best efforts to make the journey as hard as possible.
There’s not a hint of jealousy inside him when he wakes up to the sight of Seungcheol and Joshua sharing a kiss above where he’s squeezed between them. He can only purr and snuggle closer into Joshua’s bare chest, granting Seungcheol access to his neck. He shivers when he actually takes advantage of it, when Joshua’s thumb brushes along his hip bone and his lip press gentle kisses to the top of his head. He’s getting used to this. As much as to sharing a boyfriend with Joshua and the possibilities that allows.
It only takes their eyes meeting and a split second of time and it’s Seungcheol who’s on his back, Jeonghan and Joshua hovering above him, and he’s helpless. His eyes sparkling and wide, lips pulled into a pout, his touch soft and loving. He’s the pinnacle of devotion. How could they not spoil him when they know how much their boyfriend craves being adored and in the center of their attention and affection?
“I’m putting the bed up for sale,” Jeonghan announces one evening, scrolling through his gallery as he sits cross-legged on the sofa, “And some other furniture. I think the table’s good, though.”
Seungcheol hands him his mug, a rare find at the very back of a discount section shelf - a match for the two mugs they already owned. He bends down to kiss Jeonghan’s cheek and gets distracted looking at the photos.
“I think the closet can go too,” he wonders aloud, “Shua, do you think we can make some space for Jeonghan’s things?”
Being called, Joshua quickly finishes loading the dishwasher and joins them. It still makes his heart pick up the pace when he sees them like this - together, domestic and openly in love.
Seungcheol’s habit of playing with Jeonghan’s hair is stronger than before, even if the man himself remains oblivious to it.
“Maybe,” Joshua shrugs, “If we can all give up some things.”
Jeonghan teased them soon after moving in that the walk-in closet in the master bedroom was why they bought this place and not the other one they were considering. Now he can see the appeal - and wonders again if this was their plan all along, regardless of the disease they didn’t know of.
From the bits and pieces Seungcheol and Joshua let slip, he thinks it was an unspoken thing between them. So he doesn’t push, just like they give him space to open up when he feels like it.
So Jeonghan goes ahead and clicks post. It feels freeing, like he’s leaving something heavy behind.
Finally he puts the phone away and sips his drink. Seungcheol comes to sit next to him, Joshua already occupying his other side. He tries to catch up with the drama running on the tv but he never cared for it to begin with - Seungcheol’s recaps are everything he needs.
“Sooo…” Joshua says after a few minutes.
He smiles into his mug. From the corner of his eye he sees his other boyfriend fidgeting nervously. He sets the mug down.
“So?” Jeonghan teases, too happy and content not to, “I thought you said it’s our bedroom. Don’t go back on your word now.”
“No, that’s not-” Seungcheol starts and stops immediately when Jeonghan turns to him. He sighs, not upset but fond. That’s just how Jeonghan’s always been.
“Are you sure?” Joshua asks, smiling a little.
“Don’t I basically live there anyway at this point?” Jeonghan scoffs, even though he’s not as calm as he hopes to seem. It’s not a big deal, he tells himself. And maybe it really is not. Sure feels like it, though.
“Hmm, I guess,” Joshua hums, stretching an arm behind Jeonghan’s shoulders.
“It feels like you’re really moving in with us,” Seungcheol purrs, “Finally.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. But he supposes that’s it, why it feels like such a significant step. Even though they already share an apartment and live together, letting go of having his own room does carry a certain finality to it.
It brings back memories too, good and bad. A whole life of them.
“It’s always been you,” Jeonghan whispers, clearing his throat, “There was never anyone else I had feelings for.”
They move closer, Seungcheol takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, Joshua’s arm slides from the back of the couch to wrap around Jeonghan’s shoulders.
“The same goes for us,” Joshua confesses as he places his free hand on Jeonghan’s knee, “At least for me. I wish I had said something sooner.”
“You tried,” Jeonghan chuckles, “At least I think you did.”
“I should’ve been clearer about it,” the younger sighs, “But I was afraid.”
From the way Seungcheol watches them, Jeonghan has a feeling Joshua told him everything. Now or before this whole mess happened, he can’t tell.
“I’m sorry,” he swallows uneasily, “I always thought if me and Shua kept giving you hints you’d try your luck.”
Jeonghan laughs, Seungcheol has to laugh too.
“I don’t know why I thought that,” he shakes his head, “You’re not like that. It must’ve been just more confusing for you.”
“I was grateful,” Jeonghan corrects him, “I thought it was the best I could get. I was stupid too. We just always toed the line between friendship and more. I think I forgot. I was too concerned about not becoming a homewrecker that I didn’t think about anything else.”
Joshua runs his hand through his hair.
“I can’t believe we never realized,” he groans, his voice wavers, “There were so many signs but we thought there was no way.”
“Did…” Jeonghan bites his tongue but decides to ask anyway, “Did you ever suffer from it too?”
They shake their heads. Which isn’t surprising but Jeonghan still sighs in relief. Though maybe if either of them got it instead of him, maybe things would turn out like this sooner. Nobody would have to end up on their deathbed.
“We’ve always known you love us,” Seungcheol finally cracks a smile, “We never felt like our feelings are unrequited.”
“Even after…” Jeonghan winces just thinking about his outburst.
“Yeah,” Joshua huffs, “It’d work better if we didn’t already know how fast you run away from feelings that scare you. We figured you needed time.”
Jeonghan elbows his ribs, without much force because at the end of the day Joshua is right. It’s his own fault for being so transparent.
“I’ve always known you still feel something for me too,” Jeonghan admits, embarrassed, “I just believed it was more of a nostalgia for the first love type of feeling.”
“How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?” Joshua looks ready to punch him. So Jeonghan leans in and kisses him. The younger melts into him immediately, only stopped from pulling him close by Seungcheol wrapping himself around Jeonghan.
“We love you,” he pouts at him, demanding the comfort of Jeonghan’s attention as well.
“And I love you, Cheollie,” he chuckles before allowing himself to be kissed, then turning back to his other boyfriend, “And I love you, Shua.”
“Love you too,” Joshua murmurs as he wraps his arms around them both, “So don’t scare us again.”
Jeonghan shakes his head. He grabs them both, pushing and pulling them to fall with him into a pile on the couch, pressing Joshua into the cushions.
They don’t fight or try to stop him. They settle into the new position more comfortably, Jeonghan lying on top of Joshua, Seungcheol pulling them closer to his chest as he lies next to them with Joshua using his arm as a pillow.
Seungcheol starts the episode from the beginning despite knowing it’s pointless. Despite knowing his mischievous boyfriends will tease him for staring at them instead of the tv. He bets this time they’ll know all about the events of the episode and for once catch him up to speed instead of the other way around.
Joshua will. And then Jeonghan will make stuff up and Joshua will play along.
Watching the couple on the screen embark on some quest, Jeonghan’s mind is already racing with possibilities.
Possibilities for their upcoming vacation. The first one they’ll spend together like this. And possibilities for Christmas. Valentine’s Day. The whole future in front of them.
He can’t focus on fantasy when life is so good. When Joshua’s heart is racing under his ear as much as his own heart is. When Seungcheol seemingly can’t stay still, always pulling them closer, always touching them, his lips always kissing whatever part of their bodies they find.
He closes his eyes.
This feels right. This is where he belongs.
Like a flower finally taking root on a meadow.