Seungcheol had thought returning to the orchard would be time alone to get his head on straight and regroup. Having Junhui and Jeonghan there was more convenient from a practical point of view, since work needed to be done and some of it couldn’t be managed by one person alone. But as the first few days passed, he slowly reconciled to the idea that he didn’t need the solitude. Having people around, whose welfare relied on him, was probably a good thing. It kept him from spiralling or going off track.
Despite getting Jeonghan sturdy footwear, Seungcheol ended up leaving him to work indoors. It made sense to have someone making their living conditions better. Plus, Jeonghan was a far better cook than he was, even if the omega’s breadth of knowledge when it came to food didn’t extend that far. Since it was still getting cold at night, Junhui and Jeonghan stayed in the living room with the fire while Seungcheol slept in the kitchen next to the old stove. The first thing he and Junhui did every morning was chop firewood. Then the three of them ate breakfast together before splitting up to start work. Seungcheol and Junhui had cleared the yard and moved on to the outbuildings, going shed by shed. Jeonghan spent most of the morning indoors, though Seungcheol spotted him out and about sometimes, getting some fresh air.
He and Junhui were on their second attempt to get the generators working.
“We need a smaller wrench to get this bolt off. There’s nothing in the toolbox,” Junhui said, crawling out from under the generator, covered in grime and sweat.
“You know, I was using it on the grate by the side of the house earlier. Probably forgot to put it back in the toolbox. I’ll go get it. You take a break.”
They’d been working flat out since breakfast, and the shed was warm, the air close. They could both do with a breather.
As Seungcheol rounded the side of the house, his eyes peeled for the glint of the metal wrench, he spotted Jeonghan at the edge of the trees, an apple in hand. The omega took a large bite just as Seungcheol called out, “Hey, wait.”
Jeonghan startled at the sound of his voice, jumping and spinning around to face him. Then his hand went to his throat, and he gagged. Or tried to. Seungcheol hurried toward him as the omega’s other hand grabbed at his throat. His mouth was open, but there was no sound coming out. Fuck.
He was choking.
“Hold on, Jeonghan. I’ve got you.”
The omega shied away from his hands, but Seungcheol didn’t have time to deal with his skittishness. He was already turning blue. Moving around behind him, he slid his arms around Jeonghan’s stomach, clenched one hand into a fist and pressed it just above Jeonghan’s navel. He grasped the fist with his other hand and pressed in and up with a sharp jab, almost lifting the omega off his feet. He did it a second time, and a third, before Jeonghan coughed and the piece of apple dislodged, landing in the undergrowth at their feet.
Jeonghan dragged in a long breath of air, a near sob, and then another. Seungcheol patted him on the back, waiting until he was sure the omega was okay before stepping back and giving him some space.
“That was a close one, Snow White.”
Jeonghan didn’t react to his words, still recovering. He bent over at the waist, struggling to catch his breath.
“Just take your time,” Seungcheol told him. When he reached out to pat Jeonghan on the back again, the omega shifted out of reach.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I wasn’t stealing. It was… it was already on the ground.”
Seungcheol glanced at the bruised apple with the bite mark that Jeonghan had dropped in the dirt.
“You were hungry.”
Jeonghan slowly straightened, aiming a frightened look his way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind if it was already on the ground.”
Seungcheol rubbed at his temple, feeling a dull throb there as he tried to make sense of that.
“But you’re not eating much at meals. If you’re hungry, why aren’t you filling up then?”
Since he’d left Jeonghan to handle the food, he’d seen the omega eat barely half of what they ate. He’d assumed he was eating smaller meals more often, but now he suspected differently.
“I haven’t earned it.”
Seungcheol stared at him, folding his arms. “Run that by me again. The agreement was you work for me, and I feed you.”
“But I don’t do a lot. Junhui does so much more. I do half as much as he does, on a good day.”
He was starting to understand Jeonghan’s logic, twisted though it was.
“You do half as much work, so you get half as much food? Is that how it goes?”
The omega gave a hesitant nod. “Otherwise, there’ll be a debt.”
This was the clothes all over again.
“That’s not how this works, Jeonghan. It’s not about work done, it’s about effort. You put in the effort; you get to eat your fill. You won’t eat as much as Junhui, but I’d like to see you try.”
He could see Jeonghan was hesitant to believe him, distrustful. Not for the first time, he wondered who had made him that way.
“How about this? I’ll take over the dishing up for now. I’ll make sure you get what you earned, and you don’t have to worry about being in my debt.”
“I’m already in your debt,” the omega murmured. “The clothes, the food…”
“Paid in full by three days of cooking and cleaning. If you don’t believe me, we’ll get a pen and paper out after dinner, do the math on it. I’m telling you, you’ll come out in the black.”
Seungcheol would fudge the numbers to make it so, if it gave the omega some peace of mind.
“Now, as for the apples.” He picked the half-eaten apple off the ground. “This is a crab apple. They’re sour and good for cooking, but not for eating. They’ll give you a stomach ache. I’ll show you sweet ones you can eat. Not too many, though, or your stomach won’t be happy either way.”
He started walking, tossing the apple into the compost wheelbarrow. Jeonghan followed him slowly, hanging back a little.
“Why are you so nice?”
“I’m not that nice.” He glanced back at the omega. “It’s easier, most of the time. And what would I gain from being mean?”
“Most people are only nice when they want things. But you don’t want anything.”
The suspicion was back, and Seungcheol wondered if there was a way to tackle it once and for all.
“I want a whole lot. Didn’t you just spend the morning scrubbing bathrooms?”
“But you don’t want anything I don’t want to give.”
Seungcheol let his eyes close, forcing down his anger so that Jeonghan wouldn’t see it, wouldn’t be scared by it. Opening them again, he turned to face the omega, hands by his sides, loose and open. No threat here.
“Has someone forced you to give them something you didn’t want to?”
Jeonghan bit his lip, watching Seungcheol uneasily. “They tried.”
“There are bastards like that in all walks of life, Jeonghan. Bullies who don’t want to take no for an answer. It’s not always easy to stand up to them. But that’s what big brothers are for.”
When he smiled at Jeonghan, the omega smiled tentatively back at him. He suspected that he’d guessed right—Junhui had gotten Jeonghan out of a bad situation, and that’s why they’d ended up out in the middle of nowhere, hiding from the world.
They walked side by side through the shade of the trees until Seungcheol spotted what he was looking for. “These ones here. Small but sweet. The birds like them too, though, so you may have a fight on your hands.”
He spotted one that had a nice red flush to its green skin, stretching up to pick it. It came off easily in his hand, and he offered it to Jeonghan with a flourish. “See what you think of that.”
The omega took it, rubbing at it with his sleeve. He peeked back up at Seungcheol, and Seungcheol gave his most encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”
Jeonghan took a bite, the crunch audible, and made a happy sound. He munched and swallowed. “It’s so juicy.”
“How an apple should be. You like the taste?”
The omega nodded enthusiastically.
“Great. Now you know where to find them. Like I said, too many and your stomach will not thank you. I speak from experience. Ate far more than I should have, so many times as a kid.” He grinned at Jeonghan. “I was a slow learner.”
“Thanks,” Jeonghan offered, taking another bite.
“Come on, let’s go for a ramble. There’s a brook around here, usually something to see this time of year.”
Junhui was a closed book when it came to pretty much any topic except the work at hand. Seungcheol was hoping he’d have better luck with Jeonghan. The omega wasn’t a chatterbox by any means, but he tended to answer when Junhui kept silent. He wanted to talk; maybe he was just scared to.
“How well do you remember being here before? That was over a decade ago, wasn’t it?” He knew it was longer, but he figured since they’d already talked about it, that it was a safe place to start.
“Almost fourteen years. I was six then. I’m nearly twenty now.”
“Makes Junhui, what, twenty-two?”
“Almost.” There was a beat before Jeonghan asked, “How old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty-six soon.” Some days, he felt older. A lot older. That was what you got when responsibility landed on your shoulders.
“I could make a cake,” Jeonghan suggested brightly. “Maybe an apple pie?”
Seungcheol laughed. “You’re a regular little homemaker, aren’t you?”
Jeonghan flushed and looked almost pleased. But then it was like a shutter coming down, his smile vanishing, his face paling. Ouch, he’d touched on a sore spot. He tried to salvage the conversation.
“So, cooking, cleaning, baking. Anything else you have a talent for I should know about?”
Jeonghan shook his head, still avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze.
“Well, what about things you like to do? Hobbies, interests? Me, I’m partial to loud rock music when I’m in the right mood. Indian food. And when I’ve got a long journey ahead of me, and I’m not behind the wheel, I like a good mystery novel to keep me going.”
Jeonghan seemed to be mulling the question over. Probably deciding whether it was safe to share, rather than having trouble with the answer.
“I like to sing,” he admitted softly. “But not when anyone can hear me.”
“No? Hiding your light under a bushel, huh?”
“Dad says I sound like cats yowling.”
It was the first mention Jeonghan had made of anyone other than Junhui. Seungcheol carefully didn’t react.
“You can’t be that bad. I speak from experience. In school, the choirmaster told my dad I sounded like nails on sandpaper. Couldn’t hold a tune to save my life. But I was a trier. Turned up every year, despite how much he tried to discourage me.”
Jeonghan giggled softly at that.
“I read, too,” he offered. “Romance novels. Dad says they’re trashy.”
“My dad called reading fiction a waste of time. I don’t think he got the whole point of escapism. But then again, he was a military man through and through. If there wasn’t a practical purpose to it, or it didn’t build character, he couldn’t see any point.”
Jeonghan nodded. “My dad’s like that. ‘An omega’s place is in the kitchen, not the library. The only math you need is for the grocery store.’”
His voice deepened in imitation of his, presumably alpha, father.
Seungcheol snorted. “Sounds enlightened. I’d say your dad and my dad would get on like a house on fire.”
They reached the brook, the water meandering lazily by. Seungcheol started searching around.
“What are you looking for?”
“Ducks. There’s usually a few pairs nesting around here this time of year. See, over there.” He spotted a female mallard in the tall rushes and pointed her out to Jeonghan.
“They get plenty of food from the insects and such, but they’re quite partial to some oats if you want to try feeding them. Should be some ducklings soon, too.”
Jeonghan seemed like the kind of person who’d like baby animals. Seungcheol dimly recalled that he’d been almost inseparable from the barn cats when he’d been at the orchard last time. Sure enough, the omega perked up at the mention of ducklings, peering at their surroundings more closely.
“It’s a little early for them. Like I said, give it another week or so.”
“Will we still be here then?” Jeonghan asked, his tone tentative.
“I’d say a month or two, easily. We might even weather the whole summer, depending on how much work we decide to take on. I’m not exactly in a rush.”
“Why not?” Jeonghan watched him with curiosity. “Don’t you have family to get back to? Or a job?”
“No, no family. There’s a job waiting for me when I’m ready for it. And a new place to live. A chance to start over.”
The military liked shunting him around, leaving him with the feeling he’d never settle anywhere, never grow roots.
That was the burden of leadership—you didn’t have the luxury of getting attached. But after his last disastrous mission, he welcomed the chance to wipe the slate clean, to forget.
“You won’t make a home here, in the orchard?” Jeonghan wondered.
“Hard to start fresh when you’ve taken a step into the past, isn’t it?”
Jeonghan shrugged, lifting his head to peer up at the trees and the sky. “Being here was the happiest I’ve ever been. I wish we could have stayed.”
As a kid, Seungcheol had felt exactly the same. His dad had a lot to answer for. And so, it seemed, did Jeonghan’s.