Hi, I'm Choi Yeonjun. I'm looking for my older brother, Choi Jimin. He was born in 1995 in Gyeongsang. He's an omega. He attended Gyeongsang Arts High School. He left home in 2008 when I was nine, and I haven't heard from him since. Here's the most recent photo I have of him. He's a kid here but maybe you can see a resemblance to someone you know. Please let me know if you have any information about him.

Yeonjun peers at the post, and it stares back. It's unlikely that Jimin's friends are scrolling through missing persons subreddits in their spare time, but he's spent the past six hours drawing up blanks. Yeonjun honestly thought it would have been a little easier to find Jimin, once he started looking. Step 1: Type Jimin's name into Naver. Step 2: Click on one of the first results. Step 3: Find Jimin. But there are a million Choi Jimins out there, and none of them look anything like his brother.

He can tell Soobin's surprised that Yeonjun's never even looked up Jimin's name before this. This whole search may be a path to a dead-end end, but Yeonjun's ashamed he's never walked down it before. He never even put in any effort for the older brother he used to play at the creek with. Yeonjun used to write plays for them to perform in their living room, and Jimin would fully commit to each role despite being old enough to be embarrassed by that sort of thing. If Yeonjun had a bad dream, Jimin let him sleep in his bed, before he was an omega.

Soobin has a lot of questions that could lead somewhere, if only Yeonjun had any answers. Who were his school friends? Who might have helped him? Did he finish high school? How were his grades? What were his career interests? Would he have stuck with them?

Naver search: Choi Jimin dancer. Choi Jimin dance. Choi Jimin modern dance. Choi Jimin Gyeongsang Arts High School. Nothing.

After hours of failure, Soobin tells him, "Don't get discouraged."

"I wasn't."

"Okay. I'm just saying, don't give up."

Yeah, he knows that's how he looks to Soobin and Beomgyu. Like a person who always gives up.

"I wasn't going to. He's my brother. I know that I did before, but..."

"No, you didn't. You were eleven. What were you supposed to do?"

They're sitting on Yeonjun's couch in their boxers, knees knocking against knees and laptops burning on their thighs. It's late, past midnight, and Juwon is in Osaka for a two-day business trip. Soobin probably came over expecting sex, but Yeonjun put him to work, and now their eyes burn and necks ache from hunching over keyboards, searching hard and finding nothing.

Yeonjun could have looked Jimin up on his own, he knows that. But if he finds something horrible, he needs someone to hold his hand.

"This would all be a lot easier if your parents didn't hate him so much for leaving," Soobin says.

"If they didn't hate him, he wouldn't have left," Yeonjun says. He can admit that to himself now; his parents chased Jimin away.

Soobin massages the base of Yeonjun's skull. "Let's go to sleep. Wherever Jimin is, he'll still be there tomorrow."

Yeonjun doesn't take Soobin into his and Juwon's bed. That feels like crossing the line. So their feet dangle over the edge of the couch, Soobin drapes over him like a weighted blanket. He likes when Soobin lays atop him like this, with his face buried in the crook of Yeonjun's neck, curled up like he's smaller than Yeonjun. It may not be real, but pretending can be enough.

In the morning, Yeonjun takes a hot shower and scrubs himself until his skin is glowing pink. When Juwon returns the following evening, Soobin's long gone, but his scent lingers in the apartment.

"It's Soobin's scent on the couch, right?" Juwon's voice crawls from the living room into the laundry room.

"He studied here and took a nap on the couch," Yeonjun says, throwing the contents of Juwon's suitcase into the washer.

"He's here a lot."

Juwon's footsteps get louder, but Yeonjun doesn't turn around to look at him. Normal rinse, heavy duty, delicates. Normal rinse, heavy duty, delicates. The machine beeps at Yeonjun every time he cycles through the settings. Has it always been so vocal?

"I don't..." Juwon sighs. "I don't have anything to worry about, right?"

Yeonjun turns around. "With Soobin?"

Juwon nods. He gnaws at his bottom lip with his little snaggle-tooth. A gelled section of his hair sticks out straight to the side.

"No. Of course not."

"I mean, he's attractive. Are you attracted to him?"

"I haven't thought about him in that way, alpha," Yeonjun says. "He's kind of babyish."

"I know I know we don't spend as much time together as we would like."

"What does that have to do with Soobin?"

"Maybe you get lonely."

Yeonjun does get lonely, but he's not going to throw his whole life away because of that. Once he has a baby, he won't be lonely anymore. That feeling will be replaced with something more permanent.

Yeonjun leans back against the washer, and he must accidentally touch a button because it beeps again. "I don't hold your work schedule against you. And Soobin is just a little brother."

"Okay." Juwon slumps against the wall like a deflated balloon. Yeonjun doesn't need to ask what it was like in Osaka. He should have cleaned the couch thoroughly after Soobin left, but he didn't think it was necessary because there's technically nothing wrong with Soobin sitting on the couch. Still, Juwon should feel safe in his home, given how he feels outside of it.

Yeonjun squeezes Juwon's arms. "You're my alpha. Mine."

Juwon smiles, tight-lipped, but doesn't meet his eyes.

"You're all I need," Yeonjun says. He's gotten so good at lying. He even does it to himself.

***

Yeonjun checks his post for comments every day, but there's nothing. Not even any upvotes. He doesn't understand how Jimin has managed to disappear so thoroughly. How can one erase his own existence, not only to his family, but to everyone?

Soobin keeps looking, too. He promises to call Yeonjun with news, but there isn't any, so he just calls him every day to say there's nothing.

"Do you think it's possible that he's..." Soobin asks on one of these late night phone calls, after Juwon has gone to sleep.They could talk in the day, when Juwon is at work, but his search for Jimin somehow feels just as unruly as their affair. They need the cover of darkness to speak of it.

"I've thought about it." Before they started searching, Yeonjun was worried that Jimin was dead. A one-night-stand gone wrong seemed so likely — he could have gone home with the wrong guy after the wrong number of drinks. There are so many stories like that — omegas who live and die as sluts. But twenty-somethings rarely die quietly, and that type of story would have found its way back to Yeonjun's family, dripping with shame.

"But I think we would have found an obituary or something by now," Yeonjun says.

"Yeah, that makes sense. I just don't get how we can't find anything. Do you think we should hire a P.I. or something?"

Yeonjun laughs. "With Juwon's money? He'd ask questions."

"Would it be so bad for him to know?"

"I don't exactly think he'd take it badly, but he'd be confused and I don't really feel like explaining it."

Yeonjun scoops Narae's litter box while waiting for Soobin's answer.

"Your relationship with him is sort of hard for me to understand," Soobin says. "Do you guys love each other?"
"Yeah, of course," Yeonjun says. The person that Juwon married may be something Yeonjun consciously made himself into, but it's still him. There are parts of himself that he doesn't reveal to Juwon, but aren't all relationships like that, to some extent? Juwon is like him, too. He didn't discover himself; he created himself, carefully molding the clay of his life into the correct shape. That's just discipline. "We're married, of course we love each other."

"Then... what are we doing, hyung?"
"Do we have to talk about it?"
Soobin sighs. "I try to be patient with you, but this is hurting me."

"I'm sorry," Yeonjun whispers. "I'm just really confused about my life right now. I don't know if I'm happy."

"How can you not know? You're unhappy."

"You're the only person who doesn't expect anything of me," Yeonjun says.

Soobin goes quiet for a moment or two. "That's true. I really don't."

***

The next morning, Yeonjun's leaning over the counter, the bitter scent of espresso filling the room as the machine completes its noisy job, when Juwon calls out, "Where are my suits?"

Yeonjun marches to the closet, only to find the section for Juwon's work clothes empty.

"Shit," Yeonjun says, beelining for the laundry room. In the washing machine, damp and slightly mildewed, sits the last load of laundry. It's been in there for two days.

"Fuck, Yeonjun," Juwon says, just centimeters behind him. "You didn't dry it?"

Yeonjun whips around. "I forgot. I'm sorry."

"What am I supposed to wear?" Juwon asks, eyes wild, hands in his hair. "I have to give a presentation today! I told you!"
"Um," Yeonjun says, reaching for the contents of the laundry hamper: Juwon's suit from yesterday, wrinkled and covered in cat fur.

"I can't wear that! It looks like shit. That stupid fucking cat gets her fur everywhere!"

Juwon's never yelled at him like this before. Sure, he's gotten angry, made snide remarks, but he's never raised his voice. Yeonjun's suddenly aware of Juwon's size, the strength in his hands.

"I'll fix it. Go drink your coffee."

"Oh my god," Juwon says. "How hard is it to do the laundry? Seriously, are you stupid? How could you forget about this?"

Yeonjun shakes his head, laying the clothes flat on the counter and spraying wrinkle release spray all over them. He peeks at Juwon, who wears an expression of fear and anger, clawing at his own collarbone.

"It's going to be okay," Yeonjun says, his voice wobbly. "Go drink your coffee, I'll figure this out."

But Juwon doesn't move. Instead, he watches Yeonjun like a sports game his team is losing, and spits, "What you do isn't difficult! Even an idiot can remember to do the laundry. I work my ass off every day at work, and all you need to do is is the fucking laundry, and you can't even do that."

"I'm sorry." Yeonjun doesn't look up from his work, from his shaky hands. He doesn't have much time to figure this out.

"You're too busy hanging out with your new friends to do the one thing I need you to do."

He doesn't just expect Yeonjun to do one thing. He expects Yeonjun to cook his meals, to keep the house clean, to take care of the "stupid cat," to contact both of their families, to make his doctors appointments, to plan their dates, to try out new recipes, to maintain his appearance, to remind him of his schedule, to get close to his coworkers and friends' omegas, to entertain guests whenever they show up unannounced, to never get angry. And, yes, to do the laundry.

But Yeonjun gets it. He messed up.

When the wrinkles are pretty much gone, Yeonjun hands the suit to Juwon. "Put it on."

Juwon shakes his head but follows the instructions. "It's literally covered in cat fur."

"I know," Yeonjun says, grabbing the lint roller. He runs it up and down Juwon's body, so fast and rough it's probably a bit painful, until the fur is gone. Then, he sprays fabric fragrance over the suit. "Okay, you're good to go. I'll put your coffee in a tumbler."

Juwon releases a shaky breath. "Okay."

Juwon leaves shortly after, trembling as he turns the doorknob. Yeonjun feels bad for him, mostly. He doesn't need to get angry because he knows Juwon didn't mean to be cruel. He never means it — but Yeonjun is safe to snap at, he'll always forgive. That's what Yeonjun's mom says, anyway. And he really shouldn't have forgotten the laundry, especially on such an important day. What was the presentation about again?

He expects Juwon to apologize, and Juwon does. Just a few hours later, Juwon texts him, I'm sorry for being an asshole this morning.I shouldn't have yelled at you.

Both of them give apologies and forgiveness easily. It's okay. I'm sorry about the laundry. Good luck on your presentation

Juwon replies, It's already done. Moments later, Don't cook tonight, I'll bring something home.

Yeonjun knows he doesn't have to get angry at Juwon, but it's not enough, not being angry. The adrenaline from the morning sticks around longer than necessary, morphs into guilt and anxiety. He can't believe he forgot the laundry, forgot about such an important day for Juwon. His only job is to take care of Juwon, and he totally forgot about it. How could he be such a bad omega, when it's the one thing he's supposed to be good at?

He wishes Juwon would at least let him make dinner. He'd make something special for him, try to make up for his failure. Instead, Juwon comes home at seven, hands full of take-out boxes from Yeonjun's favorite restaurants.

He drops them on the floor near their front door and pulls Yeonjun into a hug, burying his face in Yeonjun's neck. His scent is soured, like rotten fruit.

"I'm sorry," Juwon says. "I can't believe I acted like that."

"It's okay," Yeonjun says, rubbing Juwon's back. He didn't expect Juwon to feel so guilty about this. "I'm not angry."

"It's not okay. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I don't want to be that type of alpha. I just—" He straightens up. "I got so nervous about work. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"I shouldn't have forgotten the laundry. You're already stressed, and I added to that."

"It's okay. Everyone forgets things sometimes. I hate—" Juwon sniffs. "I hate what my stupid fucking boss turns me into. I used to be nice before I worked for him."

Yeonjun smiles, but it's a little forced. "You're still nice. You're my sweetie. How was your presentation?" He takes the food to the table, Juwon trailing behind him like a puppy.

Juwon groans. "Not good."

"What happened?"
Juwon puts his head down on the table. "They're just so fucking harsh."

Yeonjun sits down at the chair next to him, tries to lift Juwon to rest against him, but Juwon resists him.

"I'm sorry, baby," Yeonjun says. There's not much else he can say. He's only met Juwon's boss once, when he forced alcohol down both of their throats after showing up at their house without an invitation. And his other colleague, bringing his wife to a sushi restaurant even though she couldn't eat fish and mocking Juwon's lunch boxes. And that's how they act in polite company.

Juwon's back starts to tremble, and Yeonjun realizes why Juwon wouldn't sit up.

"Come here, baby, it's okay to cry. Come on."
If Yeonjun hadn't stressed Juwon out in the morning, would the presentation have gone better? Would Juwon be crying right now?

"Come on," Yeonjun says, and Juwon finally complies, leaning against Yeonjun and crying into his shoulder.

"I feel like I'm not good at anything. At work I fuck everything up. And now I'm not even nice to you."

"You're nice to me, you just had one bad morning. Nobody is nice all the time."

Juwon keeps crying, silent tremors in his chest.

"Tell me what's going on at work," Yeonjun whispers.

Juwon sits up, his expression changing to something venomous. "It's just such fucking bullshit. Every fucking day, they tell me I'm stupid, I'm lazy, they wouldn't have hired me if they knew I would be so lazy. But they never give me a written warning, or even tell me specifically what I'm doing wrong. I stay hours late every fucking night, but if they come to my desk when I happen to be in the bathroom, they say I'm slacking off and I'm just pretending to work. I'm not supposed to go home before my boss, and honestly, sometimes I feel like he's staying late just to fuck wtih me. It's not like he's doing anything, because he gives me his fucking work, on top of my own, and then gets mad at me when it's not finished on time — how could it be finished on time? I'm trying to do a job for two people! And then when I ask about a promotion, he says I'm not qualified, as if I haven't already been doing all the work that the promotion would entail!"

By the end of Juwon's rant, his face has turned red and his hair is a mess from tugging at it. He breathes unevenly, his words catching in his throat, and his tears fall hot and angry. Yeonjun's never seen Juwon like this — unhinged. He's only ever seen Juwon cry once, and he was so drunk he doesn't remember it.

It was one of the things that attracted Yeonjun to Juwon — his unshakeable composure, so unlike other alphas. Even angry, Juwon could control himself. But since he started working for this company, he's changed like a sponge — his calm squeezed out, anxiety flooding in.

Yeonjun cups Juwon's cheek. "Baby... maybe you should think about quitting."

Juwon hiccups, shakes his head. "How can I do that? I'm your husband. I'll be a father. I can't just be unemployed."

"You can take a little break, decompress, then find something else."

"Jungkook did that. When he applied to other jobs, they called to ask about him. His boss was pissed that he quit, so he told him he was an awful employee, even though he did a good job. Anywhere I could go, it would be a downgrade."

"Maybe we could handle something with a lower salary. This isn't worth it."

"No, we need the money."

"What if... What if I got a job, too?" Yeonjun ventures. He's not sure what he's qualified for, but it might be good for him to have some goals of his own.

Juwon's face crumples. "I don't want you to have to do that. Especially since we want to have a baby soon."

"We could wait a little bit to have a baby. I could go on birth control. There's no rush."

Juwon slumps forward, sobbing again. Yeonjun pulls him closer, rubbing his back.

"It's okay, alpha. We can figure something out."

Juwon shakes his head. "When we got married, I promised I'd provide for you and our babies. Not make you get a job and put off having a baby just because someone's a little bit mean to me. I just want... I just want to be a good alpha."

"You are a good alpha. My perfect alpha," Yeonjun whispers. "I don't want you to go through this for me."

"I just have to stick it out until I get a promotion. Then things will get better."

"Don't do this for me," Yeonjun says. "Please don't."

"People make sacrifices for their family, right? This is my sacrifice. It'll be worth it."

Yeonjun swallows his guilt, squeezes his husband harder. "I love you," he says, tears in his eyes. He really does. It's their life together that he doesn't love.