Chapter Text
Hoseok wasn’t going to check his phone. If his boyfriend had waited this long to text him, then he could stand to wait a while longer for a response.
Hoseok was in his hometown Gwangju for summer break, staying at his parents’ house. He’d spent most of the summer holed up in his room (emerging only when his mother nagged him), studying English and feeling sorry for himself. It was difficult to focus on studying when he was obsessively checking his phone. His boyfriend Yoongi had never been much of a texter. Hoseok had thought that might change when they were living in different cities, but it hadn’t. Hoseok would text throughout the day, and Yoongi wouldn’t reply until late in the evening. Even then, he wouldn’t want to text, preferring a phone call. But Hoseok couldn’t talk on the phone with his parents in the next room. So Yoongi would wish him good night, saying they’d try again the next day.
Last week, Hoseok had resolved to wait for Yoongi to reach out. He was tired of always being the one to initiate. He wondered if Yoongi would notice the difference. If Yoongi had, he never mentioned it. He didn’t text Hoseok until late at night, and he always kept things brief. One night, Yoongi hadn’t reached out at all.
Hoseok was in no mood to be social. He’d stay in his bed for the rest of summer break if he could. But four of his high school friends were in town, and they wanted to meet up. His closest friend Jinyoung — the only other male Omega in their friend group — was studying abroad in Australia, so he wasn’t going to be there. Without Jinyoung there, Hoseok would’ve been perfectly content not going at all. But he had no polite excuse not to go, and so he went.
They’d started the night at Mimiwon, a Korean restaurant known for serving the best yukjeon in Gwangju. Most of dinner had been spent congratulating Mijoo on her engagement, admiring the luxury handbag she’d received as a gift, and listening to her recount the story of how her boyfriend had romantically proposed to her by the Han River. After dinner, they made their way to a pub for chicken and beer. They’d debated going somewhere more upscale to celebrate. But Mijoo declared she was in the mood for chimaek, and that was that.
Hoseok wasn’t going to check his phone. But he was a few drinks in, and his resolve had weakened considerably.
Impromptu team dinner tonight. Chat later? Hope you’re having a good time with your friends.
Before Hoseok even had time to process, his phone was snatched out of his hand by Youngji. He attempted to grab it back from her, but she resisted. A few drinks in, and all propriety had seemingly gone out the window. She scrolled through his messages, her eyes widening.
“Your chat is so dry! Is he too cheap to buy the emojis? Or too much of a proud Alpha to use them?”
They’d established a group chat to stay in touch, so every one of them knew that Hoseok was as fond of using emojis now as he had been back in high school. When he started dating Yoongi, he’d been excited to have a reason to buy the packs designated for couples. But Yoongi’s messages were always short and simple, to the point. Hoseok’s cutesy emojis and affection-filled messages seemed childish in comparison. Not to mention that using the Omega version of an emoji pack wasn’t all that fun when his boyfriend wasn’t using the counterpart Alpha version. Gradually, Hoseok had toned it down, altering his own texting habits to better match his boyfriend’s.
“They’re just not his style.” And that was okay. Even though Yoongi didn’t come across as a loving boyfriend over text, he took care of Hoseok in other ways.
Youngji gasped, continuing to scroll through his phone. “You don’t even say I love you?”
It was times like these when Hoseok was grateful for scent blockers. He didn’t need everyone in the restaurant to know how angry he was that Youngji was intruding on something so private. Instead, he maintained a placid smile as he wrested the phone from her hand, reminding himself that she was drunk. He put his phone back in his purse, not bothering to send a reply. It wasn’t like Yoongi would read it anytime soon, regardless.
“He’s a foreigner, isn’t he?” Hyojung asked, like that explained everything. “What was his confession like?”
“Actually, I was the one to confess.”
Hoseok didn’t think there was anything wrong with that — he wouldn’t have been ashamed to admit it if he’d been confident that Yoongi felt the same way about him. But he wasn’t confident in that, and now they were all looking at him with a mixture of incredulity and pity. It had been bad enough when he’d told them he’d been dating Yoongi for six months. Everyone had glanced meaningfully at his bare ring finger, and he had to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by it. Even Seulgi wore a ring, and she’d only been in a relationship for sixty-eight days. If his cheeks weren’t already red from the alcohol, they were certainly burning red from embarrassment. Excruciatingly, the table was pin-drop silent, until Seulgi chimed in.
“That’s how a modern Omega does it.” Seulgi said it so casually, too. She’d never had a problem with expressing her opinions. “I knew after the first date, so I didn’t see any point in waiting for her to ask.” Although she’d been the first to confess, her girlfriend Joohyun had returned the gesture with an elaborate confession on their third date, cementing their relationship. Seulgi pulled out her phone to show off the photos from both confessions. While everyone else’s attention was occupied, she winked at Hoseok, a well-meaning smile on her face.
Hoseok supposed he was meant to feel grateful. Yet he only felt upset that he’d been so transparent.
Hoseok had bowed out early, to much complaining. But he’d put in a good showing, enough to be polite. He was nowhere near drunk enough to subject himself to being stuck in a tiny noraebang with the four of them. He might have liked to drink himself into oblivion, but not when he had to return home to his parents at the end of the night.
Finally back home, Hoseok exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief. He stepped out of his flats, a mild wave of dizziness washing over him as he bent down to pick them up and place them in the shoe cabinet. His father had gone out drinking with his former colleagues — and he was still out, if his house slippers by the door were any indication. Hoseok’s grandmother had traveled to Pyeongchang with a group of friends to escape the summer heat, meaning his mother was the only one in the house. He could hear faint noise coming from the television in the living room, so he headed out there to greet her.
She jumped up as soon as she saw him, urging him to go wash up while she prepared some fruit for them. When he came back out to the living room, his mother was seated at the table, a plate of freshly sliced chamoe in front of her. He had naively hoped that he could zone out while she finished the drama she had been watching. But the television screen was black, and his mother was staring at him expectantly, her eyes suspiciously bright. He slowly sat down beside her, feeling wary. It wasn’t until he’d taken a bite of melon that she spoke, confirming his suspicions.
“When you get back to Seoul, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said those words. The closer Hoseok got to graduation, the more she tried to set him up on blind dates. Now that he was closing in on his last year of university, she was relentless.
“His name is Choi Doyun. A plastic surgeon. He recently opened his own practice. Already making 220 million won a year. And he’s an SNU graduate himself, so you won’t have to worry about him feeling inferior. Not like that one Alpha.”
An established doctor operating a private practice. That would put him in his thirties, at the very least. If she wasn’t offering up his age, then he must be fairly old. Hoseok didn’t mind dating someone older. His Yoongi hyung was three years his senior. But Hoseok did have his limits. Not to mention that he was, technically, already dating someone — even if it didn’t feel much like dating.
Hoseok took another bite of chamoe, chewing slowly as he contemplated how to get out of this. His boyfriend would have been the most logical excuse, but not when their relationship was still casual. Hoseok wasn’t even sure how long Yoongi was planning to stay in South Korea.
“I’ve been looking into internships.” Abroad, though he didn’t need her fussing about that right now. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. “I’ll likely be delaying graduation by another semester or two. It isn’t the right time for me to be thinking about marriage.”
“You’ll be too busy to think about it once you start working. Better to find a good partner now, while you’re still young. If you marry this Alpha, there won’t be as much pressure on you to find a job. You could focus on raising your kids.”
Hoseok sighed inwardly, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It would take a lot more alcohol for him to forget his manners in front of his mother.
“Eomma. I’m really tired.”
She frowned, taking his face in her hands and examining it closely.
“Have you been sleeping poorly? No wonder your skin is looking so dull.”
She abruptly stood up and disappeared into her room. When she returned a few minutes later, she thrusted a small bottle into his hands. It was some kind of serum — made with ginseng and snail mucin, according to the label. She must’ve gotten it as a promotional sample.
“If it works, Eomma will buy more for you. And you’ll have to take some back for your hyung. Make sure he takes better care of himself.” She sighed. “He’ll never get pregnant at this rate.” She went into the kitchen, muttering something about mugwort. She’d been talking a lot about “warming the womb” recently, and she’d sent his hyung a steamer that he’d never used. As far as Hoseok knew, Seokjin wasn’t even trying to get pregnant. But he’d been married for four years, and apparently their mother thought that was too long to be married without a child. If it distracted her from matchmaking, then that was fine with Hoseok. She eventually settled back in to watch her drama, rich doctor momentarily forgotten. He kept her company a while longer, retreating to his room once his father had returned home.
Hoseok climbed into bed and pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up the dark room. No new messages. Yoongi hadn’t been concerned that Hoseok had read his message without replying. He probably hadn’t even noticed. Eyes welling with tears, Hoseok typed out a quick Good night before shutting off his phone. But he opened their chat again a moment later — he couldn’t help following up with Get home safely. Yoongi still had his heart, after all. But Hoseok couldn’t be sure that he’d ever had Yoongi’s heart in the first place.