Ship/Member: Choi Seungcheol/Yoon Jeonghan/Joshua Hong Major Tags: MCD but not main characters, Mentions of illness and grief Additional Tags: post enlistment, canon!verse, somewhere in the multiverse where joshua alone might not have renew the contract extension Permission to remix: Yes
im so sorry op if i wasnt doing any justice to the prompt but i hope you like it
✨
The restaurant is exactly how Joshua remembered it from five years back. The halmeoni greets him; remembers him with the way she smacks his back in familiarity. He laughs alongside her loud persona though masking how weak she has become — she used to be able to topple Joshua with one smack and have always remarked to him to eat more, that she would feed him until he becomes stronger. Joshua does not miss how boney her hands have become, and that her frame has turned smaller than what he remembers of her. Despite the calluses of her hands, he’s held warmly, reminding him of his own mother.
"They're waiting for you right by the corner spot. You three always hang out there," the old lady smiles warmly as she pats his back one last time before heading to the kitchen.
Joshua makes his way to the spot, and finds two familiar figures waving and smiling at him.
“Shua! You made it,” the oldest of the group smiles. If halmeoni had the smile of the sun, the Seungcheol was the god of the sun himself. His presence welcomes Joshua with warmth despite it being summer in Seoul right now.
“Hey, it’s been a while,” Joshua speaks slowly and settles in the vacant seat. “Seungcheol. Jeonghan.” The two names roll out of Joshua’s tongue so foreignly that he’s reminded of the time when he first came to Korea and had to use his bare minimal Korean as a trainee. It’s been years since Joshua had gone home to California, that he feels like the same foreigner who had left everything to chase his dream in Seoul back in 2015.
“Have you been well?” Jeonghan asks, already setting the cutleries before him, and cutting the meat that was grilled prior to his arrival, just the way Joshua likes it — slim, with little to no fats.
Joshua looks at the latter, looking no different from his handsome and angelic self years back. Jeonghan’s hair is similar to when he had the hair length from their Ready to Love days, except his hair colour is tame, no longer fiery red. If Seungcheol was the god of sun then Jeonghan would be the god of moon; calm, serene, and quiet. He had always been unpredictable to Joshua, even more so now after years of lost communications.
“I’m good, I just. I just came back last week.”
The air is awkward, which is a given when Joshua hasn’t spoken to his closest friend (are they even close now?) for over the years of their absence. Or his.
Hansol, whom out of the few Joshua had still kept in contact with, tells him from time to time that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol misses him dearly. It’s evident when Joshua wakes up, and it’s night time in Korea that he likes an Instagram upload from both Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s profile where they posted each other sharing a mug of beer upon the ending of their enlistment.
(“We’re enlisting together, Joshuji.” Jeonghan confesses to him one night when it was just the three of them drinking out on the dorm balcony. The younger members have all fallen asleep, and Seungcheol had invited the trio to drink, to which neither of them didn’t reject.
“We’re hoping you could be there with us,” Seungcheol invites.
But it was a time where Joshua had too much on his plate. With news of his mother being on chemo, enlisting with his two friends wasn’t the right option. He knew he would miss out much, when all he had talked about in interviews years back, before this ‘talk’, was that despite his American citizenship, he would have loved to enlist with Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Because every moment without them would only mean he could yearn.)
“You know, you didn’t betray us. If that is why you were avoiding us years back,” Seungcheol calls out.
Joshua could smell that the oldest among the three had a few beers in; being the alcoholic of the group, and although Seungcheol isn’t lightweight, he is blunt.
Jeonghan hums in agreement.
“We miss you, Joshua. And it took you this long to sit and have a meal with us… why?” Seungcheol asks, now looking at Joshua.
The foreign man could feel his throat run dry with the way Seungcheol looked at him. Strong, passionate… yet afraid. Joshua throws a look at Jeonghan, as an excuse to look elsewhere, but he’s only given a shrug as a response.
“You know how he is,” Jeonghan remarks, before sighing. “But he’s right. We miss you… and if you don’t feel the same as before, we understand.”
If Joshua had not felt the guilt rising from before, he definitely feels it now. Jeonghan has always been the moral compass and mediator out of the three of them. Even if it had sounded out of goodwill, Joshua feels so small when he’s told that it’s okay to take advantage of their kindness and patience. They should be mad, perhaps even scream at him for being radio silent the past five years. Hell, they were released from enlistment two years back and yet, Joshua wasn’t there to send them off and he wasn’t there to receive them home. His home.
“I was afraid,” Joshua confesses.
Seungcheol raises his eyebrow, while Jeonghan reaches out for Joshua’s hand that was resting on the table. There’s a slight hesitation in Jeonghan’s touch, which is rather unlikely for someone as confident as he is yet Joshua feels the shaky hand pressed against his own firmly.
The youngest of three breathes in, taking a deep breath and exclaims after what seems to be forever. “I was afraid of losing the two of you, as I did with my mother. She’s… gone. Been gone for a while,”
“You don’t have to—” Seungcheol reaches out for Joshua’s other hand. It’s always been like this, just like back when his father called him to inform Joshua of his mother's critical condition, and how both Seungcheol and Jeonghan had assured him that everything will be alright, except it didn’t. But he could never blame them because they had no control of the way the world moves, and how fate could be ugly and unforgiving to Joshua.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jeonghan says first to break the silence, now having moved from where he had sat with Seungcheol and deposits himself next to Joshua. The eldest does the same and Joshua is now sandwiched between the two.
“I’m sorry, I should have reached out. But I was in a slump, and then. Just one day, I realized I could lose you two, and I just. I just didn’t want to go through grief again.” Joshua does his best to bite back the tears from falling.
“Don’t be sorry, we’re here now. And we won’t leave you, even if you begged for it, yeah?” Seungcheol comforts him and clings to Joshua even as he would have done every time someone needed him. Sometimes Joshua believed that when the eldest hanged onto someone, it felt like Seungcheol needed them more than he was needed. And he would like to believe that Seungcheol needs him as much as Joshua does for him.
“We’re here.” Jeonghan assures him, and unlike Seungcheol’s intimate affection, he settles on holding Joshua’s hand, intertwining their fingers with confidence this time, squeezing his palm. This is Jeonghan’s way of saying, ‘I’m here.’
Joshua thinks he could learn to love these two again if they would have him in their life.
[FILL] serving shots of grief and warmth
Major Tags: MCD but not main characters, Mentions of illness and grief
Additional Tags: post enlistment, canon!verse, somewhere in the multiverse where joshua alone might not have renew the contract extension
Permission to remix: Yes
im so sorry op if i wasnt doing any justice to the prompt but i hope you like it
✨
The restaurant is exactly how Joshua remembered it from five years back. The halmeoni greets him; remembers him with the way she smacks his back in familiarity. He laughs alongside her loud persona though masking how weak she has become — she used to be able to topple Joshua with one smack and have always remarked to him to eat more, that she would feed him until he becomes stronger. Joshua does not miss how boney her hands have become, and that her frame has turned smaller than what he remembers of her. Despite the calluses of her hands, he’s held warmly, reminding him of his own mother.
"They're waiting for you right by the corner spot. You three always hang out there," the old lady smiles warmly as she pats his back one last time before heading to the kitchen.
Joshua makes his way to the spot, and finds two familiar figures waving and smiling at him.
“Shua! You made it,” the oldest of the group smiles. If halmeoni had the smile of the sun, the Seungcheol was the god of the sun himself. His presence welcomes Joshua with warmth despite it being summer in Seoul right now.
“Hey, it’s been a while,” Joshua speaks slowly and settles in the vacant seat. “Seungcheol. Jeonghan.” The two names roll out of Joshua’s tongue so foreignly that he’s reminded of the time when he first came to Korea and had to use his bare minimal Korean as a trainee. It’s been years since Joshua had gone home to California, that he feels like the same foreigner who had left everything to chase his dream in Seoul back in 2015.
“Have you been well?” Jeonghan asks, already setting the cutleries before him, and cutting the meat that was grilled prior to his arrival, just the way Joshua likes it — slim, with little to no fats.
Joshua looks at the latter, looking no different from his handsome and angelic self years back. Jeonghan’s hair is similar to when he had the hair length from their Ready to Love days, except his hair colour is tame, no longer fiery red. If Seungcheol was the god of sun then Jeonghan would be the god of moon; calm, serene, and quiet. He had always been unpredictable to Joshua, even more so now after years of lost communications.
“I’m good, I just. I just came back last week.”
The air is awkward, which is a given when Joshua hasn’t spoken to his closest friend (are they even close now?) for over the years of their absence. Or his.
Hansol, whom out of the few Joshua had still kept in contact with, tells him from time to time that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol misses him dearly. It’s evident when Joshua wakes up, and it’s night time in Korea that he likes an Instagram upload from both Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s profile where they posted each other sharing a mug of beer upon the ending of their enlistment.
(“We’re enlisting together, Joshuji.” Jeonghan confesses to him one night when it was just the three of them drinking out on the dorm balcony. The younger members have all fallen asleep, and Seungcheol had invited the trio to drink, to which neither of them didn’t reject.
“We’re hoping you could be there with us,” Seungcheol invites.
But it was a time where Joshua had too much on his plate. With news of his mother being on chemo, enlisting with his two friends wasn’t the right option. He knew he would miss out much, when all he had talked about in interviews years back, before this ‘talk’, was that despite his American citizenship, he would have loved to enlist with Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Because every moment without them would only mean he could yearn.)
“You know, you didn’t betray us. If that is why you were avoiding us years back,” Seungcheol calls out.
Joshua could smell that the oldest among the three had a few beers in; being the alcoholic of the group, and although Seungcheol isn’t lightweight, he is blunt.
Jeonghan hums in agreement.
“We miss you, Joshua. And it took you this long to sit and have a meal with us… why?” Seungcheol asks, now looking at Joshua.
The foreign man could feel his throat run dry with the way Seungcheol looked at him. Strong, passionate… yet afraid. Joshua throws a look at Jeonghan, as an excuse to look elsewhere, but he’s only given a shrug as a response.
“You know how he is,” Jeonghan remarks, before sighing. “But he’s right. We miss you… and if you don’t feel the same as before, we understand.”
If Joshua had not felt the guilt rising from before, he definitely feels it now. Jeonghan has always been the moral compass and mediator out of the three of them. Even if it had sounded out of goodwill, Joshua feels so small when he’s told that it’s okay to take advantage of their kindness and patience. They should be mad, perhaps even scream at him for being radio silent the past five years. Hell, they were released from enlistment two years back and yet, Joshua wasn’t there to send them off and he wasn’t there to receive them home. His home.
“I was afraid,” Joshua confesses.
Seungcheol raises his eyebrow, while Jeonghan reaches out for Joshua’s hand that was resting on the table. There’s a slight hesitation in Jeonghan’s touch, which is rather unlikely for someone as confident as he is yet Joshua feels the shaky hand pressed against his own firmly.
The youngest of three breathes in, taking a deep breath and exclaims after what seems to be forever. “I was afraid of losing the two of you, as I did with my mother. She’s… gone. Been gone for a while,”
“You don’t have to—” Seungcheol reaches out for Joshua’s other hand. It’s always been like this, just like back when his father called him to inform Joshua of his mother's critical condition, and how both Seungcheol and Jeonghan had assured him that everything will be alright, except it didn’t. But he could never blame them because they had no control of the way the world moves, and how fate could be ugly and unforgiving to Joshua.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jeonghan says first to break the silence, now having moved from where he had sat with Seungcheol and deposits himself next to Joshua. The eldest does the same and Joshua is now sandwiched between the two.
“I’m sorry, I should have reached out. But I was in a slump, and then. Just one day, I realized I could lose you two, and I just. I just didn’t want to go through grief again.” Joshua does his best to bite back the tears from falling.
“Don’t be sorry, we’re here now. And we won’t leave you, even if you begged for it, yeah?” Seungcheol comforts him and clings to Joshua even as he would have done every time someone needed him. Sometimes Joshua believed that when the eldest hanged onto someone, it felt like Seungcheol needed them more than he was needed. And he would like to believe that Seungcheol needs him as much as Joshua does for him.
“We’re here.” Jeonghan assures him, and unlike Seungcheol’s intimate affection, he settles on holding Joshua’s hand, intertwining their fingers with confidence this time, squeezing his palm. This is Jeonghan’s way of saying, ‘I’m here.’
Joshua thinks he could learn to love these two again if they would have him in their life.
It should've been different. But it isn't.