Best of You [ChanCheol] ✔

09

Not wanting to be tugged along and appear as if he were forced to be here (yeah, they got looks from some of the people here), Chan pulled him back and hooked their arms.

They stood in front of penguin habitat. Seungcheol read random facts out loud (something he's been doing all day) which Chan thought to be adorable. He'd change his voice depending on which sea animal they were looking at. When they went to feed the dolphins, he adjusted his voice into a higher pitch while with the penguins, he made his voice deeper. Not once did Chan look away, despite the odd looks they got.

The sharks were a whole other thing. Maybe Chan freaked out (he hadn't been paying attention and only noticed when he turned around.) Seungcheol found it amusing, but he pulled Chan closer, a chuckle slipping out of his mouth as he assured him it was okay. They left the area almost immediately, trading it for one of the rooms where the lighting wasn't as bright; the room was darker and in the tanks were different sea creatures—all of them glowing. He became mesmerized. Seungcheol asked for his phone and took a picture; Chan did the same a moment later and they stayed for a little while before making their way out as the room slowly filled with more and more people.

Seungcheol turns to him. "Let's go to the turtles," he suggests eagerly, already moving on ahead. Chan took his time catching up; by the time he has, Seungcheol is already reading off the chart, shifting his voice to sound like an old man. A woman looks over at them, her face pulled up in distaste, but Seungcheol doesn't notice. Nor does Chan, really, as Seungcheol continues reading and he's laughing. A full on belly aching laugh escapes him; he's half crouched over, arms clutching at his stomach. He's almost on his knees though he desperately tries to compose himself.

A hand stretches out, and without glancing up, he accepts it.

"It's getting late," Seungcheol says. He's looking at Chan fondly.

"Feed them before we go," Chan suggests. He hasn't forgotten how excited Seungcheol was about feeding the animals; turtles especially. The last thing he wanted was for him to not have this chance. Seungcheol seems to have the same idea as he walks up to one of the employees and accepts the food items to feed the turtles. His lips quirk into a slight smile as he quietly watches them. Seeming at ease which puts Chan at ease.

With that, they leave to catch the bus. Seungcheol stays quiet, but he doesn't miss the look on his face. Chan slides into the two seater, taking the window seat while Seungcheol takes the aisle seat; it's practically empty except for one person right in front and three people near the back. Chan turns his gaze out the window.

"Our dad left when I was still a kid," he starts. Fists clenching, he presses them into his lap. "Mom got sick when we were both still in school and our dad didn't care. We wanted him here, but all he offered was money. He didn't come to the funeral either," he murmurs and he doesn't have to look to know that Seungcheol is listening. "He offered to take care of us after she passed, but Jihoon declined. Said he had it under control. Which is fine; he wasn't there before and we were fine so we didn't need him then." He pushes past the lump in his throat, clenching his hands tighter.

An arm wraps around his shoulder, but he doesn't look up. He doesn't think he will anytime soon.

"And you're fine without him now," Seungcheol finishes.

"We are."

"Do you guys still speak to him?" He asks softly. The arm around him squeezes tightly. He leans in.

"On big holidays." He releases a breath.

"You'll be okay."

Chan closes his eyes. "I know," he whispers.

Chan walks Seungcheol through reception and they part ways. When he gets home, Jihoon is on the couch. There's no Minghao today (or at least not yet.) He murmurs a greeting as he heads into his room and quietly shuts the door. As he slumps onto the bed, the door creaks open quietly and it dips under Jihoon's weight.

"Channie?" His hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing gently in a comforting manner.

Chan releases a shaky breath, his chest aching and the lump in his throat only getting harder to swallow away. He's barely able to breathe, no matter how many times he begs himself to keep it together; he's on the brink of tears.

"Chan—"

"Why doesn't he care?" Chan whispers. Jihoon's hand stiffens.

"Who?"

"Dad," Chan chokes out softly. "Why doesn't he care? How is it that he never cared," he sobs out, voice breaking as the tears fall against his will. He can feel Jihoon's hand slide along his back until he's claiming Chan in a hug, pulling him over onto his lap and stroking at his hair.

He doesn't know why he's crying about this now; he's had years to cry over it and yet somehow, one conversation with Seungcheol has him bursting like a waterfall. He shouldn't feel this way, should have been over it by now. They were fine without him and they always have been. And yet—

The sound of the front door shutting echoes through the house, but Chan barely flinches. He grips onto Jihoon like a child, even as Minghao knocks, head poking in in that silent manner of his. There's shifting and he hears the door close, but Jihoon hasn't left. He holds on tighter.

His phone blares through the room, startling him awake. (He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. And a quick glance around the room alerts him that he's alone again.)

"Hello?" He murmurs into the phone, sounding half-asleep, even to himself.

"Did I wake you?"

"Sort of," he replies, completely unfazed that it's Seungcheol.

"Oh, sorry." He pauses. "Are you okay?"

Chan closes his eyes. With a deep sigh, he murmurs, "Sort of."