Chapter Text
When the wedding invitation finally arrives, Joshua snaps a photo and texts it to Jeonghan.
Jeonghan calls him an hour later while Joshua is in the middle of packing for his upcoming trip to LA. He picks up with a distracted, “Yeah?”
“Hey,” Jeonghan says, the soft mumble of the TV in the background. “Glad it didn’t get lost in the mail.”
“Mm, it looks great. I like the gold and lavender.” Joshua flicks between two white shirts, nearly identical but for a few details. Something about the one with blue-accented cuffs reminds him of the old days — younger, feverish, exhausting days — so he selects the other one instead. “But now that I think about it… couldn’t you just RSVP for me?”
“If you don’t want to come to the wedding, just tell me now so I can hire an impersonator to replace you.”
Joshua scoffs. “As if your sister would notice me missing.”
“Of course she would.” Jeonghan sounds affronted. “It was her decision to invite all the members. She still thinks you’re nice, and she wants you there, so you’ll be there.”
When things first started getting serious between Nara and her fiancé Youngcho, the worst of Jeonghan’s older-brother-lizard-brain instincts had kicked in. He had been pitiful for a while, alternatively sulking and brooding, inviting the guys out to late-night soccer games that quickly devolved into one-sided dodgeball.
Years passed, and all those instincts have transformed into a singular drive to protect the couple’s future happiness. One wrong word so close to the wedding and Jeonghan might finally commit murder.
Joshua takes too long to reply.
“Hong Jisoo…” Jeonghan says darkly.
“Sorry, dropped something.” Jeonghan can probably hear the grin in his voice, but Joshua doesn’t care. He’ll be out of the country soon enough. “I’ll RSVP online, but tell her I can’t wait to be there, and to call me if she needs anything.”
“She already has a big brother,” Jeonghan gripes. “Stop trying to steal my spot.”
Joshua laughs. “Steal? I wouldn’t dare.”
Jeonghan fake laughs with him. “Good.”
Joshua hears quiet rustling on the other end and imagines Jeonghan shifting on the couch, wrapped up in the fluffy throw blanket that he keeps there for naps. Now that’s something Joshua has considered stealing.
“Are you done packing?” Jeonghan asks with a soft sniffle.
“Pretty much.” Joshua steps out of the walk-in closet to survey his bedroom. His leather duffel is always half-packed for travel (old habits), and there are two suitcases stuffed with souvenirs in the living room. Satisfied, he sits down on his bed and puts his phone to his other ear.
“When’s your flight?”
“10 p.m.” He prefers to sleep through most of it. “Why, you want to see me off?”
“Didn’t you know? I booked the seat next to you.” Jeonghan is joking, but the thought makes something twinge in Joshua’s chest. It might be nostalgia. “I do miss your mom’s cooking though.”
That brings Joshua back to the present. “Really?” His mom makes health-boosted versions of everything. She may be a doctor, but Joshua is pretty sure some of those ingredients are being used in truly novel ways.
“Really. There’s nothing else like it.”
“Well, you’re not wrong about that… You know you can visit any time. My mom would be happy to see you.”
“She would,” Jeonghan agrees shamelessly. “She told me I could have your room.”
“Stop trying to steal my spot.”
“Steal? I wouldn’t dare.” Oh, Joshua can definitely hear the grin in Jeonghan’s voice. “We can share.”
There’s no such thing as sharing with Jeonghan, Joshua thinks. Everything he touches has a way of becoming his. “Forget it. You can have my room and my parents. In exchange, I’ll take care of all your property in Korea. Seungkwan said your beach house in Jeju is coming along great.”
“Sure. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours. I’ve always lived by that motto.”
“I know,” Joshua says. “Me too.”
Suddenly, it feels like it’s been forever since he’s seen Jeonghan’s face. Jeonghan’s house is a 10-minute drive from Hannam-dong. Joshua could pick up some groceries on the way and get there just in time for dinner.
Instead, Joshua straightens the wooden music box on his bedside drawer, a rare gift from Jeonghan for Joshua’s 30th birthday — the first gift he received after Jeonghan had been discharged from the military. (When Joshua asked what had gotten into him, Jeonghan’s only explanation was, It reminded me of you.)
Joshua unlatches it. Inside is a single carved rose, reflected in the mirror inside the lid.
“A wedding is so much work,” Jeonghan confesses suddenly. “I get why people elope now.”
“You would think that.”
“I’m just saying, it doesn’t sound too bad to run away and announce my marriage over group text if it means I never have to speak to another florist again.”
“What if your fiancé wants a wedding?” Joshua knows the answer.
“Then I guess I’d have to suck it up.” A pause. “Do you want a wedding?”
“You know I do.”
“Just making sure.”
Joshua stares at the music box.
Lately, when they talk, he can’t shake the feeling that they’re rehashing the same conversation — asking questions they don’t need to ask just to hear the answer confirmed, like a positive feedback loop.
“I refuse to help plan your future wedding,” Joshua says, “but if you need help with Nara’s wedding, I’m here.”
“No, you’ll be in LA—”
“You know what I mean—"
“—gone for a month—”
“I have a phone!”
“—a phone you never check!”
“I’ll check it! Jeez.” Joshua shakes his head. “We sound like grandpas.”
“Don’t you ever worry that we’ve spent too much of our lives joking about being old, and once we’re actually old we’ll have nothing left to joke about?”
“Oh, come on. We can make fun of all the children.”
“How mean,” Jeonghan says as he laughs.
A week passes in LA before Joshua unearths the grimy, old guitar deep inside his bedroom closet. It twangs sadly when he strums it.
The next thing he knows, he’s driving his dad’s car to Sam’s Music to pick up a new pack of strings. He ends up chatting with an employee, who recommends a cleaning cloth and a bottle of lemon oil, too.
By late morning, the guitar has been wiped down, restringed, and tuned. His mom finds him sitting in his desk chair, trying to remember the riff from ‘She Will Be Loved.’
“Wow,” she says in the doorway. She’s in one of the long flowy shirts she likes to wear around the house on her days off, her hair freshly permed. “I haven’t seen that thing in twenty years.”
“Me neither,” Joshua says.
She stands and listens for a moment. “Are you practicing for something?”
“No. I just remembered it was there.”
“And here I thought you were practicing for Nara’s wedding.”
Joshua cringes. “Absolutely not.” SEVENTEEN has performed at plenty of weddings — it’s just a part of being in the industry — but Joshua hasn’t picked up a guitar in at least two years. He’s more than rusty.
His mom comes to his own defense, which is sweet. “Why not? I think it would be…” She switches to English. “Very romantic. Like the mariachi.”
“Nuh-uh,” Joshua says. “Not me.” In Korean, he continues, “If Nara doesn’t kick me out after hearing me play, then Jihoon will.”
His mom tsks. “That’s what practicing is for. Is Jeonghan preparing something?”
Joshua pauses his playing and blinks at her. “I thought he was your best friend. He didn’t tell you?”
“We had more pressing things to talk about.” She smiles mysteriously. “I think he should sing something.”
Joshua looks down again and runs through familiar chords. “I don’t think he will.” Jeonghan wouldn’t volunteer to be the center of attention, least of all on his sister’s big day. He’ll probably be too busy finding a secluded corner to furtively dry his eyes. “He’s preparing a speech though.”
“Ah, right, of course he is. He’ll do great then. He’s good at that.”
Joshua snorts. “At talking? Yeah.”
“That’s why he’s my best friend.” She winks and turns to pad down the hall. “Your dad will meet us for lunch in an hour, by the way.”
“‘Kay,” Joshua answers absently.
It’s past 11 and sunlight is streaming through his bedroom window, warming the floorboards and making the varnish on his old guitar flash and gleam. Dust motes float lazily past.
Out of nowhere, Joshua hears Jeonghan’s voice, as if he’s lying right there on Joshua’s bed, humming to himself.
When they were still living in the dorms, there were certain members Jeonghan sought to do activities with. Eat, explore, take walks outside when the mood struck. Others, Jeonghan sought for quiet. He’d lie down on Joshua’s bed, each of them minding their half. Sometimes Jeonghan would scoot up against the pillows to watch whatever Joshua was watching on his laptop. There weren’t always subtitles available, but Jeonghan watched anyway, piping up with a comment whenever Joshua thought he might have fallen asleep.
And sometimes Jeonghan would lay there in his PJs, singing softly while he fiddled with the bracelets that he wore specifically to be fiddled with. Seven times out of ten, it was a random song of random genre that had been stuck in Jeonghan’s head all day. The remaining three times, it was an unnamed melody that had also been stuck in Jeonghan’s head all day.
The voice in Joshua’s bedroom is humming something new. Joshua listens to it for a while, before he starts to strum.
“The housing market is looking up,” his dad says casually at lunch.
Joshua is hunting for the last piece of pork in his ramen broth. “I heard on the news.”
“Right. So, what do you think about investing in some more real estate?”
Confused, Joshua looks up at his dad, still decked out in his neon sweat-wicking hiking outfit from this morning. “It’s not a bad idea. But the Incheon condo is doing pretty well, and I was thinking of renovating…” He trails off when his parents exchange a look. “What, what is it?”
His mom takes pity on them both. “Your dad is talking about getting a place here, in California,” she explains.
“It's not a bad idea,” Joshua repeats lightly, sensing where the conversation is going. “Why, is there a place you have your eye on?”
His mom raises her eyebrows at his dad, who clears his throat. “Your mom and I… we were thinking about how you could get your own place here. So you can stay however long you want. You’re a man now, you know, we know you need your space.”
Pretty sure I’ve been a man for a while now, Joshua is about to say, but his mom comes to the rescue again.
“In case you want to spend more time in the States, Jisoo. We thought you’d be more comfortable in your own house.”
“Are you kicking me out?” Joshua jokes after an awkward beat.
His dad scoffs as his mom chides, “Of course not. Home is always home. We just don’t want that to stop you from spending more time in LA, if that’s what you want.”
Joshua carefully sets down his chopsticks. “Do you want me to spend more time in LA?”
It’s funny how 19-year-old Joshua would’ve jumped at the opportunity. Now, all that comes to mind is a memory from a few years ago of Jeonghan showing up at Joshua’s then-new place with soju and dakbal for a surprise housewarming, giddily describing how his car had slid back down the hill because of the snow.
Joshua’s mom gives him a reassuring smile. She’s always been better than his dad at reading him.
“You’re our son. We’ll always want to see you more,” she says. “That doesn’t mean we want you to do everything we want. If you don’t mind traveling back and forth, then we don’t mind.”
“Your mom is right,” his dad adds helpfully.
“She always is.” Joshua smiles in return. “I’ll keep it in mind. For now, though… I think I like how things are.”
“Okay. We’re happy as long as you’re happy.”
I’m happy, Joshua thinks to himself, as a test. It feels true.
Joshua is deep in the espresso machine aisle at Best Buy when Jeonghan calls.
“What is it?”
“Are you busy?” Jeonghan asks.
“Nope. Just shopping for your sister’s wedding gift.” Jeonghan had been the one to suggest the espresso machine. Apparently, Nara and Youngcho are becoming quite the caffeine fanatics.
“Are your parents with you?”
“Mom. She’s getting a new phone.”
“Finally. I’ll have to ask for a picture.”
An elderly couple comes over to browse so Joshua sidles over to the blenders for some privacy. Not like they’d understand Korean, but it’s the principle of the thing. “I’ll send you one.”
“It’s fine, I’m already—”
“I’ll send you the picture,” Joshua insists as he pretends to read about stainless-steel blades and variable speed control. “I need to wean her off you. What do you guys talk about anyway?”
Jeonghan laughs delightfully. “You, of course.”
Joshua rubs the spot between his eyebrows. A new habit he’s picked up ever since he noticed the frown lines there. “Haven’t you exhausted the topic?”
“Oh, you know, we talk about this and that, and once we’ve covered everything, we go back and talk about it all over again.” The old couple is still by the coffee machines, so Joshua decides to wander around a bit as Jeonghan goes on. “Your mom is the only person I can talk to about your embarrassing stories. You want me to find someone else to tell?”
“Why are you calling me again?”
“Ah — Seokmin wants you to bring back some beef jerky snacks.”
“…And why can’t Seokmin ask me himself?”
“Because this is a bulk order. Buy me some too.”
Joshua is a 36-year-old man, and therefore doesn’t roll his eyes in public. “Alright. Anything else?”
“One of those espresso machines would be nice. Or I don’t know, surprise me?”
“How about a—” Joshua squints at a box on the sale shelf “—facial massager?”
“A what now?”
The device could pass for a VR headset, but the illustration on the box shows a person wearing it in bed. Joshua translates out loud, “Facial massager. ‘Helps reduce stress and dark circles.’ Hey, that’s exactly what you need.”
“What? I’m not stressed. And I don’t have dark circles!”
“Are you sure?” Joshua checks his watch. “Isn’t it 2AM in Seoul right now?”
There’s a prolonged scuffling noise, and then Joshua’s phone buzzes with a message. It’s a selfie of Jeonghan grinning with too many teeth.
“Did you get it?” Jeonghan asks, just as Joshua asks, “Did you get a haircut?”
“Oh, yes, it was poking my eyes.”
“Looks good.”
“Thank you, but you’re really missing the point here.”
Joshua realizes he hadn’t paid attention to Jeonghan’s dark circles at all. He pivots. “You know, wasn’t the point of this call beef jerky? You could’ve texted me.”
“And wait for you to reply two weeks later?”
“I’m not that bad. Anyway, I told you I’d check my phone.”
“You didn’t promise.”
“I promise.”
“Okay. How about you dye your hair purple if you break it?”
Joshua can sense Jeonghan avoiding the subject. He plays along for now. “Sure. I’ll even do the worm at the wedding.”
“I like that idea. How about a reward if you keep the promise?”
Joshua spots his mom waving at him a few aisles away. He starts to walk over, slowly. “I’m kind of curious what you’d offer me, but no. I don’t want you to think I’m only keeping my promise because I want the reward.”
“It’s fine, Shuji, you don’t have an image to maintain anymore. No one will judge you for wanting a reward.”
“It sounds like you want to give me a reward.”
“I’m feeling generous today. You should think carefully about what you want.”
“I want you to dye your hair purple and do the worm,” Joshua replies immediately.
“Haha, I refuse. Think of something else.”
“That’s what I want though.”
“Think of something else. My generosity has its limits.”
“That’s disappointing.” Joshua taps his mom’s shoulder and mouths, Finished? She nods and, together, they head back towards the espresso machines. It gets his brain back on track. “Okay, beef jerky and a promise. Anything else?”
“Mm, that’s all for now.”
Right. “Again, you can text me next time.”
“That’ll be up to you,” Jeonghan says loftily. “Also, don’t forget to RSVP. Bye.”
Joshua has barely finished saying, “Bye,” before the line goes dead. He frowns at his phone.
“Jeonghan-ie?” his mom asks.
Joshua looks up from the screen, which had already gone black. “Huh? Oh, yeah.”
“What did he say?”
Joshua shakes his head. “A bunch of nonsense.”
She chuckles. A second later, she has her new phone out, snapping a photo of his face.
“Whoa. What was that for?”
“Just testing out my new camera,” she says sweetly, as if she’s not sending it to Jeonghan right then and there.
Saturday morning, Joshua is enjoying a stroll through Larchmont in a linen shirt, shorts, and loafers, his tablet tucked inside a brown leather satchel (a gift from Myungho). It’s his “casual yachting with the chaebols” outfit, according to Seungkwan. All Joshua knows is that he feels good wearing it.
He settles down at a café with outdoor seating and orders a croissant and almond milk latte. While he waits, he finds the photo he’d taken of the wedding invitation and pulls up the RSVP page on his tablet.
He fills in his name and phone number, confirms his attendance. He hovers over ‘Number of Guests.’
A notification from Vernon interrupts his thoughts. It’s a picture of a movie poster, followed by two words: worth watching
Joshua sends a thumbs up. After a moment of deliberation, he adds, did u rsvp for the wedding yet
His latte and croissant arrive before Vernon responds with: just now lol
Joshua’s fingers twitch over the keyboard. lol. nobody’s bringing a +1 right?
prob not, Vernon says.
Joshua feels… relieved, which is odd. What had he been expecting? Over half of the guys have partners to bring, but they rarely attend events where bringing a partner is even an option. It makes more sense to stick with the precedent and avoid any potential gossip — although if Jeonghan has his way, there will be enough security at Nara’s wedding to rival the Blue House.
Joshua fills in the rest of the RSVP page for a guest of one and hits ‘Submit’.
Later that afternoon, he gets a text from Jeonghan: beef jerky next
And because Joshua had promised to respond, he replies with a long string of emojis depicting Jeonghan dying his hair purple and doing the worm in front of his entire extended family.
“Wait, that’s it?” Jeonghan said as the credits started to roll for 500 Days of Summer. “He meets a new girl and forgets about his first love?”
“I think it’s like a…” Joshua forgot how to say ‘metaphor’ in Korean, so he wracked his brain for a synonym. “A creative way to show what relationships are like. He falls in love with Summer and moves on to Autumn, and so on. You know, it’s life.”
“This guy falls in love way too easily. I could like someone on the surface, but I think it would take me at least 500 days to even think about love.”
Joshua was quiet. They rarely spoke about relationships, and on the rare occasion they did, Jeonghan broached the topic. It always gave Joshua this strange feeling, like someone had suddenly turned the light on.
“I don’t know,” Joshua said, closing the movie tab. “Feelings are unpredictable like that.”
Jeonghan tucked a lock of overlong hair behind his ear. “Speaking from experience?”
Joshua half shrugged.
Jeonghan settled deeper into the pillows, his hair tickling the sliver of skin right where Joshua’s short sleeve ended and his bare arm began. He was silent for a very long minute and Joshua struggled to keep his breathing and heartbeat steady, in case Jeonghan could hear it.
“It would probably take me 5,000 days,” Jeonghan finally said. “I’m slow like that. But once I get there, I think I would stay a very long time.”
“How long?” It came out so quietly Joshua wasn’t sure Jeonghan heard him. But he always did.
“A very, very, very long time.”
“Won’t they get sick of you?”
Jeonghan huffed. “Then I’ll come crawling back to you. Happy?”
“Hm…”
Joshua took too long to reply. The spot where Jeonghan pinched Joshua’s arm would still be there the next morning.