Chapter Text
TWO WEEKS PASSED.
Now, the rains welcomed them every morning and bid goodnight to them every night, and in the afternoons when the clouds had retired for a while, it was sweltering with humidity.
It was one such day, and Seungcheol’s head was throbbing due to some reason he couldn’t place. He hadn’t slept well the last couple days; heat, discomfort and some unknown anxiety looping together to form some monster that kept him from falling asleep when he needed to. As such, he was a lot more irritable today than he was most days, as he sorted through the correspondence to the Physicians’ Office.
Ever since he’d started taking on patients, his correspondence grew - a variety of his patients would write him letters of how they were doing if they couldn’t meet him personally, owing to their timings not matching due to Seungcheol either being at his clinic, or with the Emperor. Seungcheol would read through them, and advise back through letter. It wasn’t the most efficient method in his books, not did he really prefer this in comparison to actually seeing the patient and examining them with his own two eyes than rely on what they were saying, but considering how bust even the most menial worker got busy in the Court, Seungcheol couldn’t blame anyone - something was better than nothing.
“It’s actually pretty efficient,” Jihoon said. Jihoon, and the others too, maintained their own correspondences, which were much more extensive than Seungcheol’s. “We don’t lost anyone to follow-up because of job constrictions, and we’ve got a paper trail of everything. It makes it easier for documentation when audits come.”
Seungcheol carefully wrote out what he wanted each of his patients to do, and sealed them into envelopes, stamped with the Physicians’ Office’s insignia. It would then be sent to the Communications Office, and dispersed accordingly. While this job didn’t take up much of his time on most days, today, the stack was bigger than he’d expected.
Finally, as he reached the end of the stack, he saw one note that made him pause.
Hello, Seungcheol.
Seungcheol frowned, inspecting the paper both ways, trying to look for who wrote it, but the paper truly only carried those two words in neat handwriting. Seungcheol quickly sifted through the notes he’d gotten to see if the handwriting matched, but didn’t find any. Also, he noted how everyone actually addressed him as ‘Imperial Physician’, never by his name, not even ‘Physician Choi’. While Seungcheol liked to think that he wasn’t a very prideful person, this annoyed him - he was the Imperial Physician! People knew his name, but his title was the one that was supposed to be used!
And judging by how there was no correspondence for this (and how it arrived here without that either, he didn’t know), this was clearly a prank of some sort. Annoyed, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the trash, getting back into answering the rest of his mail.
*
“Seungcheol!” Jisoo grinned as Seungcheol made his way towards the Statistician, sitting on their bench where they’d exchanged countless days and memories from their childhood up until now. Seungcheol tried to return the smile, he really did, but he saw that the Royal Chancellor was already there, and Jisoo had that slight blush he now started getting every time the Chancellor was around already colouring his cheeks, which meant he’d been there a while.
Seungcheol didn’t consider himself jealous. He wanted to think was the opposite of that, always happy and grateful for all things good that came his way, and others. Jisoo especially, deserved this the most. Someone out there that made him realise how truly special he was. At least, that was what he tried telling himself as he tried to ease the narrowing of his eyes as he approached them.
He bowed to the Royal Chancellor, who returned it.
“Hello, Royal Chancellor, Imperial Statistician,” Seungcheol said, reverting to the formal way of addressing as he saw the Chancellor there, too. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Nonsense, Jaewon hyung knows we meet here everyday,” Jisoo cut in. “And you can be less formal around hyung, Seungcheol-ah.”
Seungcheol only nodded curtly, not saying anything else as the Chancellor smiled a little at him.
“Sit, sit!” Jisoo moved closer to Jaewon, making space for Seungcheol. Seungcheol cut a small glance at the Chancellor, who only shrugged, and Seungcheol nodded, sitting down.
“I have to apologise to you, Seungcheol-nim,” the Chancellor said, “I understand that this time of the day is when the both of you spend time together. But I’ve been whisking the Young Lord Hong away every chance I got, and, well, they clashed a lot with your timings for each other . . .”
Seungcheol only kept quiet, as Jisoo looked at him sideways, a small apologetic smile playing on his lips. He’d heard snippets of it from Jisoo, the pretty places Jaewon whisked him away to into the city in that one or two hours he got for himself in the day - markets filled with glittering gemstones and silk clothing, a museum that was being built that stored all of their grand history, and once, they had even stayed much longer, and they had seen the sun setting and the stars climbing into the sky.
“It was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, Seungcheol-ah,” Jisoo had sighed dreamily. “Hyung just . . . wanted me to slow down and appreciate the world, you know? And so he took me there. Said it was where he’d always wanted to . . .” and Jisoo trailed off, not wanting to share more, his face flushing.
That was the day Seungcheol and Jisoo were supposed to talk about something important, Seungcheol honestly couldn’t remember, but he’d remembered being so angry at Jisoo, that he’d went to Jeonghan with that same angry face, and only when the Emperor had asked him what was wrong, id he have the general sense to school his face and pretend like things were fine - Seungcheol barely knew what happened between the both of them, and he really didn’t want to be the one that brought up more fire.
But Seungcheol was Seungcheol, and Jeon Jaewon was the Royal Chancellor. So he just nodded, mustered a small smile. “Not at all, Royal Chancellor,” he said. “Jisoo tells me wonderful things about you, I’m glad you delight in each other’s company.”
He smiled. “The Young Lord Hong is too kind.”
Jisoo slapped Jaewon’s hand lightly, grinning lightly. “Hyung, stop pretending to be prim and proper, it’s just Seungcheol! You were calling me something else entirely before he showed up, weren’t you?”
At this, Seungcheol was surprised to see the Chancellor look away, as though he was . . . embarrassed. “Jisoo, love!” He hiss-whispered, as though he wanted only Jisoo to hear, as though Seungcheol wasn’t sitting right beside him.
‘Love’, huh.
Jaewon stood up then, as though he suddenly remembered something. “Imperial Physician, Young Lord Hong, I have some work I need to attend to. Once again, I deeply apologise for impinging onto your time with each other, I know how special your friendship with each other is. I’ve moved my schedule around, it won’t happen again, Imperial Physician! The both of you, have a good chat!”
Then, he leaned down, and Seungcheol made it a point to look away as Jaewon pressed a kiss to Jisoo’s forehead. “Bye, love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then, Jisoo turned to Seungcheol as though nothing happened.
“Hello, Seungcheol.”
“Hi, Jisoo.”
Seungcheol kept the bite away from his voice - he knew he did - but Jisoo had caught it anyway.
“You’re upset.”
It wasn’t a question, not a challenge. It was simply an observation.
But still, Seungcheol tried to deny it. “I’m not, Jisoo-ya, I’m just tired . . .”
“You’re tired, but also upset. With me.”
Well, there was no escaping it, then.
“Don’t you think you’re going a little too fast with the Chancellor?” Seungcheol asked, though he knew that wasn’t what his problem was, it was that it felt like Jisoo didn’t care about him all that much anymore. “I mean-”
“He makes it feel like it’s right,” Jisoo cut him off. “I know, some rational part of me is telling me that it isn’t right for me to behave this way, but . . . he makes me feel seen. Wanted. And it’s been a damn long time since I felt that way.”
Seungcheol had partly expected that, if he was being honest, but it still felt strange to be hearing it.
“The last time, it was certainly different,” Jisoo said. “We were nothing more than boys, and we had our boyish whims. But now, we’re adults, and we treat each other that way. The respect, the gifts, everything. I . . . I don’t know if I needed it, but it certainly makes me feel less alone, being seen the way Jaewon hyung sees me. And to you, it might seem like I’m rushing things, but I’ve known him all my life, Seungcheol. And he’s known me all of his, too. So the progression seems right to me, the way I think it does for him.”
Seungcheol nodded, feeling slightly idiotic at having jumped at Jisoo with this. “Well, I think I was annoyed that you weren’t spending time with me, more than this,” he said. “It’s just . . . I’ve gotten so used to seeing you and talking to you everyday that it feels . . . I don’t know, it feels off.”
This was when Jisoo’s face finally softened. “I know, I get it too. You know, the first time it happened, I was too flustered to tell Jaewon hyung why I seemed uncomfortable, and he was nervous because he was wondering if he did something wrong, but I told him finally, that night we were watching the stars. After that, he really, really tried not to imping on our time, and even when he did, he seemed very apologetic.”
Then, Jisoo turned to him fully, a small smile. “You know, you never said anything about it, that I thought I was the only one feeling this way. But then I should have realised that you would have suppressed whatever you were feeling anyway.”
Seungcheol tried to deny it, but it was the truth, and he really wouldn’t win there, not with Jisoo.
“How’s your earring, by the way?” Jisoo asked, quickly changing the topic. Jisoo had been among the last people to see the piercing, and Seungcheol could swear he saw a flash of recognition across his face, but he didn’t say anything else and had nodded, smiling, as Seungcheol told him how he’d gotten his ear pierced for Jeonghan’s earring when he was drunk.
“Strange to give only one earring, isn’t it?” He’d asked, but said nothing about it after that, only inquiring about how it was healing every now and then.
“It’s alright, the pain’s very, very slight now, only when I sleep on it.”
Jisoo nodded, and they quickly fell away to their normal conversation, and Seungcheol could swear some of his pent-up anger and frustration fell away.
*
Jeonghan apparently grew out his hair every year, starting three months before his birthday.
It was peculiar, Seungcheol had thought, but Jeonghan was full of little peculiarities, as he was beginning to realise. He loved sweet things, but ate something sour right before he popped a sweet into his mouth because ‘it was sweeter that way’. He would do exactly twenty-seven pushups when asked to, no more, no less. He switched hands when writing for a long period, and his handwriting was almost the same with both his hands. When he thought no one was watching, he rubbed against the scent glands on his neck and wrists, even with the scent-blockers on, as though it helped him relax.
As such, his hair, which was usually short the way most Alphas kept it, began to grow out, and today, a small lick of it curled under his ear, and he tucked the other side away, as he watched Seungcheol enter his room.
“Hello, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan smiled. “Hello, I was waiting for you.”
“Whatever for?”
Jeonghan shrugged. “I don’t know, really. It’s just, I’m having a free moment after two gruelling weeks finally, and I realised that I didn’t see you all that much the last few days.”
That had been true. As the manifesto had spread across the Empire, it had received love the magnitude no one could imagine - especially from Omegas.
That had been something to witness - usually, Omegas made it a point not to make themselves too public: it was just the way of the world. This was prevalent in rural area, but that was not to say that it wasn’t in cities, either. But now, Omegas had taken to streets and public places, finally empowered enough to voice their own emotion, their own voices and demands.
And gifts had poured into the Palace - gifts from Omegas of all standings, from the Capital City’s richest priests and priestesses showing Jeonghan with blessed items, to the poorest farmers sending some of their grain, Jeonghan had received, and continued to receive, boundless love from every Omega - and by extension, every member of their family that had wanted better for them - that had felt seen by Jeonghan.
But it came up with its own set of problems.
On the third day post announcement, the Omegas had all poured into the streets of the capital’s bustling square, and it had almost led to a stampede, with a young boy severely injured. Many of Jeonghan’s quiet enemies in Court had taken this as an opportunity to be loud, and tell him in several different ways that this was why Omegas needed to stay home, stay away from public, where they could get hurt or use the protection laws Jeonghan had made for them.
It was not just that, of course. They started picking the most idiotic reasons known to man about why Jeonghan’s manifesto was no good - Seungcheol had heard one of these arguments in part one day, and had literally rolled his eyes when one Alpha confidently proclaimed that ‘it wasn’t wise of the Emperor to invest so much time, effort and money into the elderly, because they were going to die, anyway’.
Seungcheol had rolled his eyes, and simply walked out after he was done giving Jeonghan his medicine.
But Jeonghan had no such option. He had to listen to every single one of the reasons, note them down, and methodically tear them apart. As expected, it really did suck a lot out of a person, and Jeonghan was no exception, as he returned each night (because these extended well past evening, on most days), looking more worse for the wear than he did the day prior, his files getting thicker by the day, his shoulders drooping more and more. He made no opposition as Seungcheol gave him his medicine and went away, telling him to sleep well, that he needed it.
Today, atleast, Jeonghan looked a bit clear-eyed, as he motioned Seungcheol to sit across him. A file lay open on front of him, but Jeonghan looked all too happy to close it as Seungcheol sat across him.
“Tough couple of days?” Seungcheol asked, though he knew the answer.
“I’d do the challenges all over again.”
Seungcheol whistled lowly, and dug around in his bag to find the medicine for Jeonghan.
“Well, seeing as how you’ve been working a lot more, I thought you were tired, so I made you this tonic.” It was very green, and Jeonghan’s face soured immediately. “It’ll help you sleep better and make you feel refreshed upon waking up. I thought you might want to try it, seeing as these meetings seem nowhere close to ending.”
“I suppose I’ll try,” Jeonghan said, and Seungcheol handed him the bottle, their fingers brushing in the slightest. “But no promises if I’ll continue to take it.”
“It’s good for you!”
“So’s meditation, but you don’t see me doing that, do you?”
“Well, maybe you should.”
Jeonghan raised a brow, a corner of his mouth quirking up. “I don’t think my mind can be quiet enough for that.”
“Yeah, I think you’d overthink, too.” Seungcheol laughed as Jeonghan frowned.
“You’re supposed to say that you think I can do it, Seungcheol. That’s what a good friend does.”
“Does a good friend lie to their good friend?”
“Yes, if it’s good for the other!”
“Well, I still don’t think you’d be able to do it,” Seungcheol said.
Jeonghan sighed. “The day you learn to lie, that’s when you’ll become a true courtier. I think I’ve told you this before too.”
“Only once every week.”
“And you still don’t listen to your Emperor.”
“Why do you want me to lie so badly, huh? Is it bad to be honest?”
“It is sometimes!”
Seungcheol sighed, knowing he had no other answer to give the Emperor - even if he did, he’d only be shot down again.
A small but comfortable silence enveloped them, and Jeonghan opened the bottle of the tonic Seungcheol had made him, his face souring as he smelled it.
“Just drink it without smelling!” Seungcheol insisted.
“It smells pungent!” Jeonghan complained, but downed it nonetheless, gagging as it went. Seungcheol couldn’t stop the small smile forming his face as Jeonghan frowned, making faces and shaking his head violently. “Yuck! I’m never drinking that again!”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Excuse me?! What makes you think you’re calling the shots?”
“Um, maybe the fact that I’m your Physician?”
Jeonghan frowned, pushing the strand of hair that had fallen free. “You keep abusing that power.”
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, amused, but didn’t say anything else. Jeonghan reached for the water nearby, and Seungcheol saw that Jeonghan’s scent gland, from even under the transparent patch, looked swollen, which could only mean that it was producing pheromones well, unlike the almost atrophic stage it had been in the first time he’d examined them, months prior.
These days, conversations about Jeonghan’s health were not pointed interviews the way they had been earlier, but Seungcheol had managed to find a system for them that worked - he tried to normalise it first, giving Jeonghan an overview of what it was like for him, and then for his brothers, and some of his patients. Every time Jeonghan showed a sign of not knowing what Seungcheol was talking about, he’d explain it as though he’d wanted to, not because he thought Jeonghan needed it.
It had been a month since Jeonghan had last vomited at night, and much longer during the day. He could sleep the whole night burrowed in his own pheromones, which were now taking up a characteristic scent that Jeonghan could recognise as cherries, a foreign fruit he’d eaten as a child and had liked ever since. He still couldn’t get himself to look in the mirror without looking away, but day by day, he managed to look at himself for longer.
That last part, Seungcheol would never understand. He knew about the extent of how personal demons could haunt you, had been haunted by them at the beginning of his career, helped his brothers and patients fight them on a daily basis. He knew demons were unique to an individual, and Jeonghan was somehow secretly the most insecure about his Omega status still, and took that out on his physical appearance, the one thing that he knew had altered from when he’d been a wiry, lean boy, to now, with the classic Omega traits slowly but surely creeping in. He still hid them away in Court under his thick cloak and loose clothes, but sometimes, on days like this, when he retired early, he’d change to simpler clothes, and Seungcheol could see his wider hips, the altered fat distribution, the soft curve of his features.
Jeonghan was ethereal. He used to think that it was the way all royals were, because the Sixteenth Yoon Emperor was no short of a looker, and portraits of the prior Emperors and their family members suggested the same, but Jeonghan was . . . different. All that, and more. There was no other word for him. It pained Seungcheol to think that he still couldn’t see himself the way Seungcheol saw him. Strong, beautiful, unbreakable in a Court of people that wanted nothing more to do than break him.
Another stand of hair fell away from behind Jeonghan’s ear as he tipped his head back, drinking deeply, the line of his throat bobbing with every gulp he took.
He had a sudden urge to reach forward and tuck the hair behind Jeonghan’s ears, as he set the bottle aside,
Just then, a wave of heat passed through Seungcheol, and he could feel beads of sweat forming across his forehead, and on the inside of his shirt, and it felt like everything fell into place at once for him.
Oh, so that was why he was feeling all irritable and restless the past two to three days.
Damn it, it should have struck him earlier! How many times had he not gone through this before? He was no longer a blushing teenager!
“Say, Jeonghan,” he said, as he wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. “I might not be able to come to work a few days. I’ll write to Jihoon to keep your medicine ready, that’s okay, right?”
“And what came up so suddenly?” Jeonghan asked, his voice teasing. “Is the rain making you feel dull and sleepy, wanting to stay at home?”
“No.” Another wave of heat passed through Seungcheol again, and his voice came out strained this time. “I’m in pre-rut.”
* * *