Chapter Text
As the time for the end of their break comes to a close and the more that he’s running out of time to confront his grandmother about the properties, the more that he seems to have disconnected from that altogether and stuck with the avoidant patterns that he always ran to when he was uncomfortable and anxious. Three days before they were set to drive back to Seoul, Yein invited them to their farmhouse for an entire day and Jeonghan jumped on the opportunity right away. A day at a farm with people he really liked and farm animals was tons better than peering out the window and seeing his aunts glaring at him or trying to pry into their business.
Yebin’s farmhouse was just a few minutes away from their wedding venue but was situated higher than the rest of the nearby houses. They did have a few neighbors but they were quite some distance away. Far enough that they couldn’t peer into their home but not too far that they wouldn’t hear them in case of emergencies. A friendly distance. Their two-story house had a barn behind it, a chicken coop at the front, and some herding animals roaming lazily around.
“Jeonghan!” Yebin ran out her porch with a huge smile on her face and a child in her arms. While she reached out to hug him her child reached out, too, although it seemed like she was reaching for someone else. “Oh!” His cousin smiled in amusement as Yein insisted on being taken into Seungcheol’s arms. “She didn’t forget uncle.”
“Can I take her?” Seungcheol asked in the softest voice possible just as Yebin was already handing her own daughter to him, a little relieved by the weight off.
“Every single day she’s heavier, I swear.” She sounded apologetic as the baby started pulling at Seungcheol’s shirt.
Right at that moment, he gasped in surprise and stepped away just to reveal a little duckling who followed after him. “Oh, hello little duckling.” He greeted, face red. The duck let out the tiniest quack ever and Seungcheol cooed, bending down to pet her little beak. The little duckling quacked repeatedly, and when he stood up again and backed away, the small duck followed after him.
Jeonghan watched all this in amusement. Yein continued to pull at everything she could pull while the duck followed him around, quacking. “We have a crowd favorite.” He teased.
“What,” he smiled. “They’re both so cute but I can’t concentrate.”
“Here, I’ll help,” he offered, bending down. “Duckie. Duckie, come here.”
“Her name isn’t duckie.”
“How would you possibly know that?” He looked at Yebin. “What’s the duck’s name?”
“We haven’t named any one of them, they’re ducklings. This one keeps on straying away from her family though and wanders around all day ever since she’s old enough to be away from Mama Duck.”
“Can she be Nabi?” Seungcheol suggested. “Because she’s free flying, you know.”
“So you name your dog after potatoes and now a duckling ‘ butterfly’ ?”
“Well, I can!”
Jeonghan picked the duckling up gently and cradled her as if she was a baby. He just wanted to put the duckling on his shoulder like he did when he was young but he had a feeling that the rich, sheltered boy who just knows ducks from the books he’s read would panic and would never let him put it anywhere except his arms.
“Feeling safe, Nabi?” He asked.
Quack!
“Oh, she answers.” He cooed.
“What do the both of you want to do today? We can feed the chickens, we can pick tangerines, too. And oh! Jeonghan we’re milking some cows today, you still know how to do that?”
“If you remind me how to, maybe I can,” he remembered the cows being his favorite when he was young. He usually preferred those types, cows, horses, buffaloes, those that usually are farm hands over poultry and domesticated animals. “Cheol, you wanna join?”
With Yein in his arms, Nabi the duckling quacking at him, and the goat staring up at him, Seungcheol looks like an animal whisperer of some sort. “Can Nabi and Yein come?”
“They can but you need to make sure Yein doesn’t touch anything,” she nodded, walking off in her boots and her hat to shield her from the sun. “Come inside first, you two eat something, I’ll go and get you two some boots. I think some here will fit you.”
Entering the wide, sunny living room, Yein wiggled in Seungcheol’s arms, prompting him to put her down which made her dash off to one corner with her toys. They were welcomed by some familiar faces that they met during the wedding, inviting them over to the table. It was so lively, people were talking over each other in multiple pleasant conversations, some playing with children while convincing them to eat vegetables, filled with laughter and joy.
“Come in, boys!” Yebin’s mother-in-law was first to usher them in, immediately taking out plates and bowls. “I have pajeon here.”
He thought the family was just open, warm, too welcoming, and also a little bit noisy at the wedding just because they were all plastered off their brains. Turns out they were just like that.
Alcohol or no alcohol, all of them seem to have more than the usual amount of energy normal people had. That, or both of them just never had families that worked this way. Both have managed alone for so long; one with the overbearing parents who didn’t care what he had to go through to get to the place they wanted him to be in, one didn’t care what happened to him in any shape or form. Neither knew what to do when faced by a huge, supportive crowd.
They watched in awe as they were invited inside the family’s intimate moment, eating their pajeon and kimchi jeon happily. Yein was entertained by her smaller cousins, filling the house with bright laughter and sharp giggling. “Hey, I heard you two are helping out with the milking.”
“They are,” Yebin came back with two boots. One blue and one purple. “Jeonghan has been good with them since we were little.”
“I keep on forgetting you’re from around here, too,” Yebin’s husband Jiyoung chuckled. “I keep thinking about you two as the city boys.”
That made Jeonghan snort. “Oh, Seungcheol is, for sure. He’s even attached to the farm animals. He named the little duck Nabi.” Seungcheol sat there, wide eyed, wondering why there was a huge reaction and why eight people started talking to him all at once why getting attached to the farm animals wasn’t such a good idea. He looked like a little child seeing the world for the first time. Surprised, mostly confused, and a little terrified.
“We don’t eat them all.”
“Especially the ducks.”
“It will only break your heart when you have to… you know… cook them.”
Seungcheol sat there, frozen. “You eat the ducks?”
Jeonghan saw the exact moment everyone in the room softened and honestly, pitied the city boy. You can hear their brains go oh, honey while they desperately attempt to steer the conversation away from the topic of livestock.
“During colder seasons, root crops survive harsher weathers so that’s when we plant potatoes, carrots, taro, and such,” the change of topic was a little abrupt but Seungcheol’s brain was an information sponge, trained by the years when he was forced to absorb everything conveyed to him, and he immediately adjusted to the shift and accepted the new information.
After the long breakfast, the group collectively moved away from the table and like clockwork, everyone went to their own morning tasks, dispersing effectively, promising to meet at dinner time.
“Boys, you join for dinner, okay? We’re going to have a bonfire tonight!” Yebin’s uncles-in-law waved goodbye as they headed for the other side of the village.
“Aren’t they coming back for lunch? Are they going far?” Seungcheol asked Yebin.
“Not really. They’re going to the rice fields; we’re a little behind on weeding it and spraying insecticide so we have to finish all the paddies by the end of the day so they’re eating out there.”
Jeonghan clipped his rapidly-growing hair back as they walked towards the barn. “Remember the thing we did when we chased birds away?”
“Yeah?”
“That one has been weeded and sprayed so now they just have to let it grow and not let birds get to them,” he explained. “If they finish weeding and spraying by today they can start waiting in a few days.”
Seungcheol nodded in understanding. He has always been a very quick learner. Sometimes you can almost see the gears turning in his brain.
One of the things Jeonghan noticed, however, was that Seungcheol often overcalculates.
It’s the thing that must have been carried over by years of rigorous studying. He has also mentioned that his parents give out instructions, give out goals, but are rarely specific. He has grown up trying to gauge the reactions of people around him, carefully analyzing situations—he thinks a little too much. He’s a little overthinker. He isn’t Jeonghan who feels and acts, no thoughts, brain empty. He’s not Jeonghan who’s toeing the line of impulsiveness and recklessness.
Seungcheol is often right, though.
But it’s not going to be long before he’s going to be wrong.
--
For a sheltered city boy, Seungcheol was surprisingly adept with farm work. A little queasy by the subject of animals for food but as long as the topic wasn’t discussed, he was fine. He had a little difficulty getting the milk collectors to stick to the udders perfectly at first but he eventually got the gist of it and managed to collect a whole bottle for himself.
“You can keep that,” Yebin offered as soon as they were done.
“Oh no,” he declined, smiling. “I don’t think I’ll be up for milk much from now on.”
Yebin laughed. A clear ha-ha-ha that was one octave below her speaking tone. Just like Jeonghan’s.
A tiny quack broke through the small space of silence and Jeonghan looked towards tiny Nabi who had followed Seungcheol through the entire day.
“At this point I think you’re gonna have to keep her.”
“I don’t think Jeonghan’s going to be okay with that,” he frowned, hesitating.
I sure won’t be, he thought. He was sure about that.
“Is that okay?” Seungcheol looked up at him with his starry eyes and blinked with his long, dark lashes and he suddenly wasn’t so sure about that.
“We live in the city,” his voice came out softer than he had intended. “And she has a Mama Duck. Right, noona?” He turned to her for help. He wasn’t so strong when he was giving him puppy eyes.
“She’s an independent duckling,” she held her hands up, as if she wanted nothing to do with that conversation. “She separated as soon as she turned two months old. That’s your discussion to make.”
Seungcheol frowned, worrying his bottom lip. “I’ll take care of her completely,” he promised. “Just like I do with Kkuma.”
“That’s because she hates me.”
“She doesn’t!” he insisted, but he backed down eventually. “Okay, she kinda does. But Nabi will require less maintenance.”
He was going to give in, but he knew Seungcheol might regret that decision eventually. “She’ll get lonely, she’d be alone. And Kkuma might hurt her. Yebin, tell him.”
“You have a dog?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Oh yeah, it’s better to keep them away from animals that aren’t used to them. Our dogs here are used to other animals running around so they’re fine. Your dog might not react nicely.”
And as Jeonghan expected, Seungcheol easily backed down in the face of more information. “Oh, that’s fine,” his frown was so cute Jeonghan couldn’t help but reach over to squish his face together.
His soft cheeks bundled up under his insistent squishing. “So cute,” he cooed, which only made Seungcheol frown deepen. “Awwwe, baby, I’m so sorry.” Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled him into a hug.
“It’s fine,” he grumbled as his face was forced against Jeonghan’s shoulder.
“I’ll make sure they won’t cook her and we can visit her again someday, okay?”
Seungcheol lifted his head and squinted at him. With his pinky finger up, he glared at him. “Promise me.”
Jeonghan laughed even more and locked their pinkies together. “I promise. And Yebin promises!”
“I promise! No Nabi’s will be cooked. I’ll make her Yein’s playmate.” That seemed to improve his mood and he grinned widely.
The best thing about Seungcheol is that he looks like he can deck you in the fucking mouth if you so much as threaten anyone he loves, which he really probably can, but he’s also the cutest, babiest person that Jeonghan knows. Even though he’d insist he wasn’t a cute baby.
Jeonghan still had an arm around his neck and he took that as a chance to pull him back into a hug. Seungcheol took his own opportunity to pull him in and as he was stronger, he immediately had the upper hand, flushing Jeonghan against his shoulder. They were in a little battle of who could hug the other tighter. Jeonghan wasn’t sure why he kept on fighting, Seungcheol was twenty times stronger than he was.
Eventually, he relaxed against his arms and buried his face against his neck. “I’m sorry we couldn’t keep her,” he whispered against it.
“That’s fine,” he hugged him tighter, completely enveloping Jeonghan. “It’s not healthy for her anyway. I have these thoughts now that I can take care of her completely but when exam seasons roll in…”
“You won’t even be able to take care of yourself.” It was Jeonghan’s turn to frown.
“Exactly.”
“I’ll make sure your little duckling lives a long and happy life,” he sighed. “For my sweet-hearted, darling Seungcheol, anything can be done.”
Seungcheol hugged him tighter, which he returned eagerly. “I’m a fully grown man, and you’re making me feel like a fairy princess,” he chuckled.
“Well, do you like it?”
There was a beat of silence before he started giggling. “Hell yeah, I do.”
--
It was Jeonghan’s turn to be pampered when night came and his mortal enemy showed up again. “It’s so cold,” he complained, teeth rattling.
Seungcheol was already wrapping a blanket around him before he even finished his sentence.
They prepared a campfire where they all gathered around for some barbecue and grilling pork belly. Yebin was inside putting her daughter to sleep but there was nothing awkward about the company they were left with. Drunk uncles trying their best not to burn their food and aunties who were on the verge of disowning their husbands–nothing could go wrong, really.
“It’s not that cold,” Seungcheol insisted even though he was busy wrapping Jeonghan with as many blankets as possible. Eventually he looked like a butterfly that couldn’t break through. “We sleep with the air conditioner on blast every night, how are you okay?”
“You’re warm,” Jeonghan smiled. “Sometimes I do wake up but that’s fine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s your comfortable sleeping temperature, and you always sleep so soundly. I can’t wake you up.”
“I have my own room, you can just tell me to leave so you can sleep in peace,” he complained while he scooped a new bowl of soup for Jeonghan.
Jeonghan considered for a minute, it felt like he was gearing for a long answer and Seungcheol merely waited patiently, but all he said was, “No.”
Seungcheol's smile grew. He did try to keep it contained to a tiny smirk or something similar but he wasn’t able to stop his lips from extending into a huge, pleased grin. He looked up the stars and reveled at how many there were. Seoul did have stars at night but not nearly this many, it was so clear he could see why they twinkle and he could see the entire world turn all over them. It was wonderful to forget everything about themselves and their lives.
What did he usually do during breaks? He wondered where his friends were. Considering Wonwoo hadn’t made a single peep, either reassured him that everything was probably fine back home. Otherwise, Wonwoo would have snitched right away.
How did he usually act? At that moment, he had no idea. He was acting according to what he assessed was right, and also what felt right. He has never been the type of person who considers what he feels before acting, because usually, he doesn't feel comfortable trusting his gut because it has been wrong many times before, anyway. But here, it felt like there was nothing to use his brain for. All they had to do was walk around the countryside, inhaling fresh air, taking care of livestock, and enjoying each other’s company. Nothing was complicated, no school work nor grades to worry about, and most of all, no mom and dad breathing insistently on his neck.
It was the clearest his mind has ever been in a long, long time.
“Jeonghan, Seungcheol, darlings,” Yebin’s mother-in-law, who drunkenly hung around them both during the wedding gave them crushing, heart-wrenchingly warm, mom hugs. “How are you two?”
“This one’s already getting ready for classes,” Jeonghan pointed his thumb at Seungcheol who stayed up late the night before to organize his study schedule in his digital planner.
“Awwwwww,” she cooed before giving Seungcheol another hug before guiding him to a seat. “Darling, you know nothing about your assigned readings, yet. All that does is make you worried and anxious. It’s good to prepare,” she smoothed a strand of hair that stood out of Seungcheol’s head. “But it's good not to cramp your brain up with too many worries. It takes up the space for your actual lessons. And you need that space, don’t you?”
Jeonghan watched as a soft, unreadable look took over Seungcheol’s expression. “I do.”
“Just a little gentle reminder,” she reassured. “My sons are just like you. Growing up on a farm,” she paused to accept a bowl of soup and handed one for each of them. “Eat. You don’t have to respond to me, just listen.” She motioned for the two boys as she grabbed another seat to sit in between them. “You two remind me so much of my sons. One of them, the older one, Joohyung, grew up during a very difficult time for the family. His father left me, you see, and I’ve had to work at the farm alone, too stubborn to ask for my family’s help, and I’ve had to leave him in the care of other village women while I worked the farm. When he was old enough to take care of himself, he did. I left him food on the table in the morning, and came back late afternoon. He handled himself well. But no child should ever be left alone like that,” she sighed. “I hope you don’t mind, Jeonghan, but Yebin has told me of your situation.”
“I don’t mind.” He answered meekly.
“Sometimes, children don’t get the parents they deserve,” she kept a comforting hand on his back the entire time while Jeonghan held back tears and chomped on his stew, instead. “And it’s not your fault.” That sent a sharp pain in his chest, and he felt winded. Such simple words to hit him right where it hurts.
“We often have to spend so much of our time working to heal from things we had no hand in causing,” she picked up a stick and poked the fire in front of them while they collectively stared at the dancing flames. “We work so hard just so we can keep on going, and going, and going, just to meet someone who would finally make you feel like everything might not be healed, but you’re alright to live with old scars.”
“Happiness stems from contentment,” Seungcheol quoted on the top of his head like it was nothing.
“Is that a quote?”
“Non-verbatim,” Seungcheol shrugged. “But yes. Dalai Lama.”
She nodded, a contemplative smile on her face. “But sometimes we do find ourselves in situations where we don’t know when to heal ourselves,” she threw another soft look in Seungcheol’s direction. “When we’re still in a situation when people we love are still hurting us and we don’t know where to go… how do you heal when new wounds show up each day?” When she paused, it was exactly quiet, since conversations went on all around them, but the three of them said nothing, letting the last question sink in. “I may have gone on a roundabout just to say then if you find people who are alright with your wounds and scars, who’s patient enough to face them all with you, and is alright that you might never get rid of them… then recognize that you’ve been given a once in a lifetime chance that other people aren’t even offered. And you cherish them with all the loving intentions you have in your heart.”
–
With her words sticking with them throughout the night, the two spent most of the night sticking to each other, wrapped in blankets and huddled together. At some point, Jeonghan rested his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder before reaching for his hand. He squeezed it, as firmly as he could without hurting him.
Around the bonfire, they sang songs, and told funny stories while food kept getting passed around. Seungcheol’s mood was up and he kept on laughing as he made friends with Yebin’s father-in-law who was, honestly, a little dorky. Not a lot of people enjoyed his dad jokes and seldom laughed even though he’s always so adorably enthusiastic with his delivery. But of course, that didn’t matter to Choi Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol who seemed to have state-of-the-art ability for people-pleasing. He kept on cackling at his jokes, quite realistically, although Jeonghan could hear that one little quirk that told him Seungcheol was faking them. He even kept asking him to tell him more, and as the night grew, he had officially become Uncle Song’s favorite person in the world.
Jeonghan didn’t make that up, Uncle Song drunkenly announced while he wobbled on top of a wooden bench. Seungcheol looked very flattered by that and looked genuinely excited.
It was spectacular to witness.
As the night grew deeper and some of the older people had gone back to bed, Seungcheol decided to take a walk around a small cliffside overlooking the river. He just stood there, watching as the current flowed gently on and on and on, trying to go back to not thinking about anything.
Jeonghan noticed he had been gone for quite a while and decided to follow in the direction he was heading when he left. It was really cold but Jeonghan decided to leave his blanket, anyway. Shivering, he walked for a while, watching his feet. Two motorcycles owned by Yebin’s new relatives passed and asked him where he was headed. He had no idea where Seungcheol was. “Did you see my boyfriend?” It surprised him how easily the label rolled off his tongue, even if it was untrue. They pointed him towards the direction of the little cliffside that once had a church on it.
He kept on walking until he spotted him by the cliffside, just standing and staring. Jeonghan walked towards him, the sound of crushing grass surely alerting Seungcheol but he made no move to acknowledge it. “Seungcheol?”
Finally. He turned. “Hi,” he smiled. Instinctively reaching out to wrap Jeonghan in his arms. “It’s so cold out here, you should have stayed near the fire.”
“I was worried about you,” he admitted, both arms coming up to wrap around Seungcheol’s waist. “You were gone for a while.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he pulled back a little to look at Jeonghan. His nose and cheeks were red, so he looked like a little Christmas ornament. “Do you want to go back now?”
At that moment, he saw his pain in Seungcheol. For days after his parents had let him down yet again, Seungcheol had been barely hanging on, seemingly only held by the distraction Jeonghan has offered, and after a night of drunken, a little too close to home advice from drunk duck herders, he had finally seemed to have been pushed to tears again.
They were at opposite points in the line of parental issues–one completely neglected and the other suffocated and controlled–they both had gaping spaces in them where fundamental love should be.
It should have been that love and support that you get from your family that sets your foundation catapulting you into facing the rest of the harsh world but Jeonghan and Seungcheol, they had none of those. They were thrown in blind, without a hand to hold, without a guiding voice. All they have is themselves for so long.
And Seungcheol, dear Seungcheol is so kind-hearted, so quick and open to feel. All those years, how much must have it hurt?
Hot tears sprung up his eyes but he held them back, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. He reached behind himself to take Seungcheol’s hand in his, then pressed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. “You have me now.”
“Hmm?”
“No matter what happens…” he made that statement float, not just for Seungcheol but for himself, too. He will take this promise to heart, he is committing, he is sure that no matter what happens, “I will be here for you.”
Seungcheol froze for a moment like he does when he’s about to start thinking, but the moment didn’t last very long and suddenly, he was cupping Jeonghan’s face in his hands. Leaning forward, he guided Jeonghan’s face to tilt towards him and pressed their lips together.
This time he doesn’t want to think.